Heart of a fiend works in mysterious ways

💋Kiss Attack💋

Day 4!

Today with some templates for our MC‘s!

Let her shine with the help of Caleb‘s Birthday Pose! But she get‘s the spotlight on her own!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ🐦‍⬛*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ🐟*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧: *✧

It almost sounded paradoxical but Rafayel despised summer.

The sweat pearling on skin, the clothes trapping the heat and the scorching sun that made the air too heavy to breathe even after it set… he loathed it all. 

When the weather warmed up, all Rafayel craved to do was drawing the curtains close, turning on the fans and soaking in the bathtub for hours. He didn’t have the strength to hold a paint brush and his frying brain couldn't think of anything to draw. So he put his phone in do not disturb mode after sending a text to Thomas and prevented any kind of persuasion his agent might have attempted to make him do any work.

The cool water lazily lapped at his skin as Rafayel lay in the tub, dozing off for a bit. He couldn’t help himself, the constant buzzing of the fans paired with the seasonal tiredness lulled him into a state of relaxation.

But it didn’t last long.

The echo of the door getting unlocked stirred him awake, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as he heard footsteps walking in the main room. Reluctantly, he stepped out of the tub and reached out to wrap a towel around his waist.

Droplets of water ran down his bare torso and some even hit the floor, but Rafayel was too preoccupied to find out who had just barged into his place to mind.

“Ah, it’s cooler here…”

“Hurry up! Get some ice-packs from the fridge-”

His feet came to a halt at the doorstep and he blinked in surprise to see Luke and Kieran fretting around while Sylus held a bundle of wet towels in one hand and his phone on the other.

“What are all you doing here?”

His question made Kieran stop mid-action from removing his mask and Luke stilled with his hand outstretched towards the doorknob of the kitchen. While Sylus let out a heavy sigh and tapped at his phone screen before pocketing it.

“You didn’t answer my call,” he said, crimson meeting indigo as their gazes locked.

Rafayel briefly glanced around as he realised that he didn’t even remember where he had left his phone, and then he crossed his arms, frowning at Sylus.

“So you just barged in?” He tried to play the offended part but his cheeks flushed pink when Sylus held up the keys of the MO Art Studio he had handed himself.

With an embarrassed gesture of his hand, Rafayel gave the twins permission to make themselves at home while he stepped closer to Sylus. He avoided looking up and seeing the amused smirk tugging at his boyfriend’s lips, and he diverted his attention to the bundle of towels in his arms instead. Curiously, he reached out and tugged at the hem to discover Mephisto -hot metal at the touch and electronic eyes half-closed.

“We’re looking for shelter from the heat,” Sylus explained, his voice low and gentler than before.

The N109 Zone wasn't built with comfort in mind. Concrete, metal and endless machinery trapped heat and the air shimmered above rooftops. It wasn’t like the Onychinus Base wasn’t equipped with a technological system of ventilation... but it was getting almost claustrophobic staying there and when Mephisto's temperature regulators started acting up, Sylus gave in and listened to the twins’ pleas to go somewhere else cooler.

“But I didn’t show up empty-handed to take advantage of my boyfriend’s generosity…”

That made Rafayel lift his gaze and follow Sylus’ nod to see a wide, heavy-looking cool bag beside the foot of the sofa.

“I bought the fancy strawberries-and-cream ice cream you like very much,” Sylus leaned down and whispered close to his ear just to see Rafayel fight back a happy smile.

After a pause, he tilted his head to the side and let the tip of his nose deliberately brush against Sylus’ one just to tease him back.

“Alright, you can stay over.”

A chorus of thanks came from the twins as they put a big bowl full of ice in the middle of the coffee-table and took Mephisto from their boss’ arms to carefully put it in there, perched atop damp towels to cool down.

“I’m going to grab some fresh clothes for you to change in,” Rafayel offered as he took Sylus’ free hand in his, their fingers locking together, and receiving a gentle squeeze in return. 

He led the way towards the bedroom and once they were out the twins’ sight, Sylus tugged him close and captured him in a hug. His chest pressed against Rafayel’s bare back, unbothered by the fact that his clothes were getting wet, and he nuzzled his nose against the purple, wavy locks still damp from the bath.

“Smells good…” Sylus’ lips brushed against his temple, leaving a soft kiss there.

Rafayel chuckled in amusement at the affectionate display and leaned back against him, a hand reaching to cup his jawline tenderly. “Would you like to refresh yourself…?”

“Would you join me…?”

“Shameless,” Rafayel scoffed at the suggestion, even if his heart skipped a beat at the temptation. 

He wouldn’t ever risk being indecent with Sylus when the twins were just a few rooms away… after all, Luke and Kieran were just beginning to look up at him with the same admiration they reserved towards their boss.

Freeing himself from the embrace, Rafayel kissed his jawline and then stepped back patting his shoulder. Sylus grumbled in discontent but understood the silent message and went into the bathroom to take a cold shower.

After a while, they were all lounging in the living room together.

The twins sat on the armchairs eating popsicles and wearing light, fresh clothes that were completely different from their usual dark attire... but at least they looked comfortable now.

A more active Mephisto was nesting atop damp towels on the coffee table, while Sylus rested on the sofa with one arm draped over the backrest and a spoon on the other hand.

Beside him, there was Rafayel happily eating his strawberries-and-cream ice cream and scolding his boyfriend every time he tried to steal some too.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ🐦‍⬛✧🐦‍⬛✧🐦‍⬛✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧: *✧: *✧: 

I recently got Rafayel's “Fish’s Devotion” call, and right on time the weather is getting hot where I live too. Since I loathe the summer heat just as much as our dear fishie, I got inspired to write this small crowfish oneshot! 🙃

The idea came to me while I was sitting in the car, the sun making the inside feel like hell fires, and I thought… would the N109 Zone be cooler during summer? Or since it’s a place where there are no norms or regards for pollution and contamination, would it be actually way hotter than Linkon City?

I imagined Sylus flinch when Mephisto tries to perch on his shoulder like usual because due to its metallic body, the bird would be scorching hot- or worse! The heat would make the poor Mephie malfunction and see it would break Sylus’ heart, so he decides to listen to the twins’ pleas to go somewhere cooler to rest and… voilà!

Everybody is at Mo Art Studio. Rafayel is dumbfounded, both from the heat and the fact that his place is crowded all of a sudden, but of course he let them stay over and survive the heatwave together.

It was such a sweet, domestic picture in my head that I wanted to share it with you.

I hope you enjoy this headcanon of mine. 🥰

[Taglist: @thehyperfixationgirly ... ]

Not in for the reason most would immediately think, but because you have a habit of dancing when you enjoy it.

The first time he noticed, the two of you were at a newer restaurant and, under the din of conversation, he could hear a radio playing. He chalked it up to you subconsciously hearing the beat.

The second time was when the two of you stopped for homemade gelato, but again, there was music. A lively little band playing at the bar next door's back patio.

With a shrug, and a grin, you were too cute when it happened, it fell to the back of his mind.

Sylus finally caught on when the next time he saw it, his chef had made you one of your favorite comfort meals. There was no music, nothing that could even be mistaken as any type of beat, and yet you wiggled back and forth on the stool as it was placed in front of you.

Added some arm motions after taking a bite.

He had laughed, the light kind that pulls your attention instantly. You had asked him what was funny, and he just said, "You."

You cocked your head, confused, and he shook his, feeding you a line about getting the fanciest grilled cheese in all of the N109 Zone and Linkon.

It quickly turned into a private game, one he enjoyed greatly for two reasons. The first was that he was able to spend time with you, which made anything palatable. The second was the excuse to dress you up and take you out.

Now, not everything the two of you ate was high end - Micheline star rated. Sometimes he would indulge your whims on to go to some place a co-worker had mentioned off handed that you wanted to try.

What he realized quickly, however, was that whatever version of the dance escaped you was a fairly accurate indicator of the food.

You nearly always had a little shimmy when the plate was set before you, especially if it was visually appealing.

From there, after the first bite, it would range. If it was alright, you bounced your head. If it was good, a shoulder shimmy would make it's way out. The next level was a full body shake that he could only describe as a mini twist, but on a minute scale. As if a puppy was wagging it's tail.

But he knew it was delicious when your hands joined the fray. Sometimes the pumped the air right in front of you. Sometimes it was a little wider, out to the sides, while your whole body bounced back and forth.

If that dance slipped out, he would mark down the restaurant as one to return to later.

You had caught him once, staring, waiting for you to take your first bite. Sylus had been doing that for a while, leaning forward, fork in hand, but nothing moved to his mouth until after you had fully taken yours.

You had teased him - asking if he was using you to test for poison, and he had snorted and shook his head, taking a bite to subtly encourage you to eat what was in front of you.

Sylus wasn't even sure you consciously realized you were doing it or if it was because you were comfortable with him you didn't care that you did.

Misdsummer Apple

┃Note: It was originally a request, but Tumblr doesn't want to post it in reply

┃tags: pre-relationship, Zayne is fool in love

"Zayne, look! Our train has arrived."you grabbed his hand and ran towards the station. It started pouring not so long ago and your clothes were already soaked, hair damp from heavy rain.

You boarded the train,bought your tickets and took the first available seats. The warmth of the train enveloped you. "I'm glad we made it on time. You'd catch a cold if we stayed in the rain any longer."he said and brush a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Here."he took off his coat and covered you with it. " Zayne, this way you will end up with a cold."you shook your head. "I am resistant to these types of circumstances, don't worry."you chuckled, keeping the coat because he wouldn't take it back anyway. You sat comfortably in the soft seat and the train set off.

You were still a few hours away from home,raindrops were running down the window when you decided to occupy the time somehow. Zayne's attention was caught by the latest article about the heart diseases, so you took your headphones out of your bag and turned on one of those ASMR videos to help you fall asleep. And it actually did. Less than half an hour had passed and you were asleep, wrapped in his coat.

caleb: midsummer apple has landed!🍎✨ ohmylord the bottle is so pretty; it matches his eyes.🥹❤️✨

I have checked the drabbles that I did over May, and I feel I can continue few of them in a shorter/longer stories (or at least try my best to do so - live might get hectic)

So from all of those, I have selected few I want to do for now, but might need your help to choose which one to start with.

So here is a poll with the ones I selected. Please note there is a Xavi in there, I am not the strongest Xavi writer, but I will try my best, because the concept is too cute/scary to pass lolol (I tempted myself)

Please look at them before voting yea? :)

Caleb = Day 24 - Guard

Xavier = Day 23 - Meet or Day 21 - Friend

Rafayel = Day 30 - Rival

Sylus = Day 31 - Dragon or Day 20 - Paper

I am sorry but as much as I would love to continue Zayne's office au, he is as elusive as Xavier when it comes to me writing him, to the point I wouldn't be happy with it. (maybe later or with a sweet bribery)

Enjoy a story of goddess falling for someone who is out of reach until their paths cross again. All she ever wanted is to help and defy the puppeteer behind it all just to meet an end... But what is death for a goddess if another start? Music choice from this part: Do I wanna know - Arctic Monkeys Or open a full playlist that I was listening to on Spotify - here Warnings: bad humor, mentions of death, violence, a bit of Raf myths (I am not sure if all of them got in or not)

We have a choice at the end here :)

The unheard words seemed to latch into his brain. Resting in between the subconscious and conscious, like an itch that you cannot fully reach. It was irritating, but more than that, it lulled him into a state of calm, contentment, acceptance. 

The picture that greeted him from the floor after he smashed most of his studio's space didn’t faze him, did not fuel his desperation like it did when he came back yesterday after falling apart. 

He could now gather the pieces. Get the glass out of the way, not cutting his feet like the day before. It was weird — in the same way that overgrown ruins in the middle of nowhere are peculiar. The helplessness of the morning seemed distant. He was still sad; it’s not like the calmness stripped him of his feelings, but it didn’t make him collapse on the sofa, staring at the ceiling for hours without end. 

Next morning, just like the storm, this feeling was gone. His heart aching once again for something, someone he will not have — not in this life. He started to believe that not in any of them. 

It was a week later that he saw the woman who did something. He just did not, yet, know what. 

“Miss Writer, how nice to see you!” he smiled, standing behind her the moment she stepped into the small bohemian café. Yes, he knew, and yes, he was waiting. 

“Mister Painter,” she turned, not expecting him; she almost jumped hearing his voice. No wonder really — this place was well hidden in an alleyway that was far from main streets, far away from what he would seek out. “What a surprise to see you.” A hint of distress didn’t escape him — her hand tightening on an old book she had. 

“Fate must have pulled some strings! This place was recommended to me,” — he would play it casually — “so here I am.” He pointed with an open hand to the counter. “And you are my savior. I was stuck, but you walked in with the confidence of a regular. Any recommendations? My treat.” His gaze shifted to the menu board with various drinks, but when her gaze followed, he focused on her. 

Her guard was back up. 

“They have a mean dirty chai if you want a mix of both worlds.” The book went back to her bag, her face not turning from the board. Posture relaxing, like the book had secrets and hiding it made it safe. 

He paid for their drinks and led her to a table where he made himself comfortable before she came in. The drink was surprisingly good, and he allowed the silence to stretch. 

“What was Miss Writer reading?” he smiled, resting his head on his hand, leaning just enough to close the short distance provided by the table. 

“Just some research material,” her gaze weaved to the side before leaning back, putting a bigger gap between them. A push for a pull like waves. The expectant silence made her laugh — a small sound. “Lemurian stories, or really scraps that I could find,” she didn’t look at him playing with a cup in her hands. There was hesitation in her voice, a flicker that told him much more than the answer. He had done his homework already. Last week was a hunt for information, after all. 

“Did my dramatic revelation inspire you to look into the Lemurians' heart predicament?” 

She tilted her head from side to side, not fully confirming. Just like that, he swapped the topic, mentioning thousands of shells after the storm. The atmosphere was slowly relaxing.

Next time they met was during an author’s meet-and-greet, hosted by one of the smaller branches of popular bookstores. She was, once again, surprised to see him — her ears turning pinkish when he walked over, making quite the stir just by appearing at the event. He only realized because of her reaction; maybe it was the hushed voices, maybe it was the way he held her book. Who cares about the reactions of the landbreathers! 

“I cannot wait to read this one. I must say, I am impressed — writing multiple stories at the same time? Quite a chaotic mind,” he mused, handing her the book. This time, a story of a seer and a herbalist. 

“Tsunami,” she started taking her own work, hesitating before signing it with a few lines resembling a dragon’s head. 

“I remember,“ he was watching her movement carefully, leaning close when she was giving him the book back. Eyes locked on her. “Cannot wait for the Lemurian,” he started, watching as she wanted to make an excuse, just to back off a bit. Like he would allow it, his hand holding her wrist in place. “And the sacrifice to the sea god.” He let her go, watching as her eyes rounded, a momentary panic setting in them. 

Now he was sure she saw her face before.

He waved almost sweetly walking away. 

Sometimes to catch a fish you have to stir the surface. 

You fully understood the meaning of getting a heart attack from something unexpected. The pounding in your chest did not get lighter when Mika pulled you aside. This was too specific. The flash in his eyes told you that he knew. But how much did he know? 

You were in a bar — N109 zone at its finest. Information was not easy to find, if you wanted to dig into Ever and potentially Astra. You were sure he was one of the main players at this stage. A small deal was closing your late-evening endeavours: a file to be collected at a later stage. 

What else could a girl want? 

She would not want to see the person she was trying to avoid. Oh no, that was certain. But here you were — heading to the exit, only to stop like a deer. Not in headlights, maybe, but in dimmed lights. 

A glass in his hand raised to you, and a smile. This was not the usual one, either. 

You nodded and tried your best to choose a different route out — only for him to smoothly, like swimming between the crowd, block your way. 

“(Y/N)”, a quick movement and his hand was on the small of your back, guiding you. “You look stunning today, but I would never take you for a person visiting this place.” His voice was singsongy, on the verge of something you heard before — trouble. 

Your mind spinned, ideas emerging one after another on how to slip away.

“The duality of a woman,” you said, trying to match his smile. You could not lose your face now — the seller was still eyeing you from the seat near the bar.

A low chuckle answered.

“A dangerous one. What gave you the idea you could really buy something from that person? Do you have a secret death wish?” He looked back, his eyes locking with the seller — just to drop his smile. A warning was sent. 

“Looking where I am… there is a high chance,” you answered, inching away — only for his hand to grab your waist and pull you closer. 

“Well then, maybe a walk will help with such a wish.” 

You had a feeling it might actually make it true. You nodded. All things considered, you still had options.

Said options presented themselves when Rafayel was stopped by someone — a distraction — and you were able to slip, if you could call it a slipping. He knew; it was hard not to. He looked over at you as you were walking out of the bar. 

You spotted him getting out of the building as you were reaching your car. His eyes flashed a warning: Don’t.

A little lazy cuddling with our beloved fishie because I miss him and would love to just be in his arms right now and doing exactly nothing 🥺

“It’s nice, to lounge on the sofa.” Rafayel sighs into your hair and lazily stretches underneath you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

You decided to cuddle at home, taking his huge sofa in the spacious main living room to good use. The sun throws matching hues through the windows, and you relax into his chest, your head finding a comfortable place on his shoulder. And with a slight rub of your nose along the cool skin at his throat you answer “Mhmm. It was a tough day. Staying at home and let the world be the world for once is a nice change of pace.”

Right now, your painfully exhausted, and you asked your Lemurian boyfriend to not go out for once. He also had a day full of painting, and planning and preparing his next lecture at Linkon University.

“Then let’s just rest here, Cutie. After all, you have the best and comfiest pillow here.” he grins and places a kiss at the top of your head, before closing his eyes and humming a little content tune into the serenity of his place. The waves outside a nice harmony to his song.

You also close your eyes, and let your senses overruled by Rafayel. His scent that invades your nostrils, the steady heartbeat that thrums in his chest, his warm breath that glides over your cheeks and the humming that surrounds your ears.

Post Title: We Improved This Blog. You’re Welcome.

Luke: Okay, first of all—why is his password still the same?

Kieran: Because no one is supposed to be reckless enough to try it twice.

Luke: And yet. Here we are. Thriving.

Update Log (Since Our Last Visit):

Sylus changed his password.

It took us four minutes to guess the new one.

He added a lock screen.

It did not help.

Kieran: To be fair, you did brute-force that one.

Luke: “Brute-force” is such an aggressive term. I prefer creative persistence.

Today’s Investigation: Does Sylus Have Feelings?

Luke: Controversial topic, I know.

Kieran: We have gathered evidence. Exhibit A: He paused mid-sentence yesterday. For no reason.

Luke: There was a reason.

Kieran: There was a person.

Luke: There was a very specific person. Exhibit B: He checked his phone. Put it down. Picked it back up again. Three times.

Kieran: Four.

Luke: Right. Four. My mistake. Exhibit C: He almost smiled.

Luke: I saw it.

Kieran: You imagined it.

Luke: I DID NOT IMAGINE IT.

Important Announcement:

If you are the person this is about—

Yes. You.

Don’t look behind you.

Kieran: Why would you say that?

Luke: Because now they will.

Final Notes Before We Are Inevitably Hunted Down:

Sylus is aware of more than he says.

Sylus ignores more than he should.

Sylus cares more than he admits.

Kieran: …That one might get us killed.

Luke: Worth it.

[…sound of a door opening]

Kieran: He doesn’t knock.

Luke: He never knocks.

LAST MESSAGE:

If this post disappears, we regret nothing.

Luke: Okay, maybe a little.

Kieran: No, we don’t.

MC climbing Sylus's back when he sleeps on his stomach and nuzzling the back of his head, earning a soft huff and and a sleepy smile

MC randomly making biscuits on Sylus's chest or stomach (his cake is not spared either)

MC arguing with Mephie but the instinct kicks in and she starts chasing the poor mechanical crow around the base, Sylus trying to stiffle a laugh

MC fighting demons at work trying not to chase the red dot on the hologram, because that all she focused on while the Captain spoke.

MC purring because of Sylus's soft and tender touch or when he pats her head

MC hissing when other cats approach Sylus

MC sleeping a little more than usual