What Does It Say About Me That They Are Both One Of My Favorites In Each Game

beautiful work💥💥💥

Imagine drawing more anaxa, wouldnt it be great 🤞

pick your poison‼️‼️

reblogs are appreciated here 💥 💥

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙧. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙧. 𝘼𝙣𝙖𝙭𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙨.

bruh hsr players really cant handle characters that dont act like lifelong friends with us😭😭 hating on Aglaea and ruan mei is diabolical

this fandom gotta read more books and then the lore istg

I love you for making anaxa crazy like he really is, like girl, i get angry when people write him normal, or 'soft for you' or just plain lovesick yandere. These are not defining this man this man has already some shit going on in his head and that shit would get worse if he was in love

We love crazy anaxa with no reedemable things🥰😍😍🥰

Awhh 😭

Each to their own, I suppose. My brain kind of just connected it as —

He neither reveres nor fears the “Gods” of Amphoreus.

He doesn't hesitate even a little bit in literally selling his soul for his crazy experiments. Even talks about it casually (and very proudly).

Suspiciously chill all the time.

Understands the way humans tick very well and is quite emotionally intelligent himself. It'd seem like he prefers the logical course of action most of the time, but doesn't seem to stubbornly adhere to one extreme.

A very “the ends justify the means” type of guy.

Conclusion : he's scary, even more so than Phainon and Mydei combined.

𝘼𝙉𝘼𝙓𝘼 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙋𝙑: "𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚"

MAY CERCES BLESS YOUR ANAXA PULLS!✨💚🌿

flame spirit yada yada needs to go BRING THE PINK LESBIAN!!

Aughfjgkgg I love pink characters… Can she come faster

they should kiss NOW

Aughhhhg revexa my beloved doomed queers

@merlucide bc you luv revexa :33

if I get E1 anaxa its revexa oneshot

If a miracle happens and I somehow get E2 Anaxa I’ll draw revexa kissing🥀🥀

GRGRGRGR I LOVE YOUR YAN! ANAXA FIC SO MUCHH!!!!! i can feel his desperation through the screen bcs of your writing style!!

but i'm curious. what would happen if we were too late to undo the binding curse? i'm mainly interested in how it would affect anaxa's behavior. would he become a lot more shameless towards reader? concerninly more devoted to reader? or something.

anyway have a great day! love all of your fics!

Ty for sending me your rq. At first, I thought of Anaxa easily surpassing his master but then it'll be no fun. Turns out the final version impressed many of you so I think: okay, this should have an au.

Yandere!Anaxa x Mage!Reader

Artist: gumi_min08 on X

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It finally succeeded. He felt it, so did you. The way his magic wove into yours, not forcefully, but willingly. Anaxa watched you with reverence, eyes filled with something far deeper than mere obsession.

“You trained me” he murmured, brushing gloved fingers over your sleeve, his touch featherlight, almost hesitant. “You shaped me into what I am.”

His fingers curled, as if he wanted to grip you, hold you close, but he didn’t dare. “My magic is yours now. My strength, my will, all of it belongs to you.”

His lips curled slightly, his next words dripping with dark devotion.

“You could break me if you wanted to.”

Your fingers twitched, magic crackling between your palms. And he shuddered. Not in pain, but in rapture.

Your breath stayed even, your control unshaken. “You think binding yourself to me will make me yours?”

Anaxa exhaled sharply.

“No.” His eyes gleamed under the dim torchlight, his voice dropping lower, almost desperate. “But it makes me yours.”

Your magic flared in response. You could feel him. His pulse, his emotions, the way his body ached for your command. You had the power here.

You tilted your chin up, gazing at him with unreadable calm. “You’ve made a mistake, Anaxa.”

His breath hitched, but his smirk remained, a twisted sort of satisfaction flickering in his gaze. “Have I?”

You stepped forward. Your fingers barely brushed against his chest, magic sparking from the touch, his magic trembling in response to yours. His muscles tensed, his entire body waiting.

“Then command me” he murmured, voice raw, filled with something dangerous. “Make me regret it.”

The challenge hung between you, thick and heavy.

You smiled.

A bold challenge. A reckless dare. And oh, how he meant it.

Anaxa didn’t blink as your magic surged, testing the connection between you. You could feel it, his pulse, his hunger, his unwavering devotion. His magic intertwined with yours, raw and unfamiliar, a force you weren’t used to wielding.

It wasn’t submission. It was offering. A dangerous gift, and he knew exactly what he had given you.

You could break him.

You could undo him.

And he would thank you for it.

“Follow me.”

Anaxa inhaled sharply, as if the words alone had power over him. His entire body tensed, not in hesitation, but in satisfaction. He lived for this.

The royal summons arrived sooner than expected.

A minor disturbance near the border, nothing that required the kingdom’s full force, but enough to demand your attention.

It was a test. The king wanted to see how you handled matters now that you had bound Anaxa to you. Anaxa, to his credit, remained composed during the meeting, standing slightly behind you, his presence looming. You were given the task. It wasn’t difficult, but the moment you stepped outside the castle, you felt it.

His magic, tethered to yours.

A second presence in your veins, pulsing with raw, dangerous energy.

It was unnatural. Unfamiliar. Not yours.

And yet… It listened.

It shifted at your will, reacting to your command, awkward at first, but soon it settled. You were adapting to it so quick.

And Anaxa? He noticed.

The mission had been simple. You completed it with ease, your control over Anaxa’s magic growing more refined, more effortless. He watched you the entire time.

And now, back in the tower, his composure had begun to slip.

“You’re getting used to it” he murmured as he leaned against your desk, his eyes half-lidded, watching the way your fingers traced the edges of a spellbook.

You didn’t look up. “Of course I am.”

A low hum. “How does it feel?”

You turned a page idly, not missing the way he inched closer.

“Like something I could destroy you with.”

Anaxa exhaled. He stepped behind you, gloved fingers brushing over your wrist. His touch was deliberate, slow. Affectionate.

“Then do it” he murmured, voice dangerously soft.

You didn’t pull away. You could feel his warmth, his obsession, the way his magic curled around yours, binding, craving.

It would be so easy to push him away. But you didn’t.

Instead, you turned slightly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. Anaxa’s breath hitched. Because you were looking at him differently now.

Not with disgust.

Not with hatred.

But with power.

And he had never loved you more.

You could feel it growing inside you.

Anaxa’s power was never simply magic, but something ancient, raw, instinctual. His people had once been warriors, feared across the lands for their overwhelming might. Magic was in their blood, in their bones. They were not mere spellcasters, they were forces of nature, walking calamities.

And now, their magic pulsed in your veins.

Even as you wielded it with more ease, even as your spells became sharper, more devastating, you refused to keep it.

This power was never meant to be yours.

Anaxa would never willingly let go. You knew that. So you did not ask.

You simply brewed the potion, hidden among the vials of restoratives and calming tonics he trusted you to make.

He drank it without suspicion, sitting at your desk, fingers idly tracing the fabric of your sleeve as he watched you read.

“You keep getting stronger” he murmured, as if in awe.

You hummed in response, letting him thread his fingers with yours. Letting him enjoy this moment.

He didn’t notice the way his eyelids grew heavy.

Didn’t realize what you had done until his grip on your hand weakened, his breathing slowing.

“…Master?”

You stood as his body slumped forward, catching him before he collapsed entirely.

His eyes, those burning, devoted eyes—looked up at you, hazy with betrayal. And yet, even as unconsciousness pulled him under, his fingers twitched, reaching for you. You didn’t let him.

You laid him down gently, brushing a stray lock of silver from his face.

“Rest, Anaxa.”

And then, you left.

The Magic Fall—a place where magic pooled in its purest form, untouched by mortal hands.

Few dared to go there.

You had no choice.

Your steps were swift, your mind sharp. The moment you arrived, the energy of the fall pulsed around you, responding to your presence. It knew you. And it knew the power that did not belong.

You knelt before the shimmering pool, closing your eyes, reaching inward, searching for the foreign magic buried inside you.

It fought back. It had settled too deeply, woven into your very being, not just a borrowed force but a claimed one.

And in that moment, you realized something.

This wasn’t a mere binding. Anaxa had given himself to you completely. There was no longer a clear line between your magic and his. If you wanted to remove it, you would have to break something fundamental within yourself.

And as you hesitated, just for a fraction of a second—

A hand gripped your wrist.

Your breath stilled.

You turned your head, slowly.

He was there.

Awake.

Watching you.

Those eyes no longer hazy, no longer vulnerable—but sharp. Unyielding.

He should still be unconscious. The potion should have lasted hours.

Anaxa’s grip tightened, but not painfully.

“You tried to leave me behind.”

His voice was steady, low. Unforgiving.

You did not answer. Because you knew what you had done. The words hung between you, thick with quiet anger, quiet devotion.

Anaxa’s grip on your wrist was firm. His magic pulsed against yours, reacting to your emotions, your hesitation.

You kept your face neutral. Unshaken.

“Let go, Anaxa.”

His fingers only tightened, slow and deliberate, but not forceful. Not yet. “No.” His voice was steady, unwavering.

You exhaled slowly, glancing at the shimmering magic pool beneath you. “I won’t ask again.”

A slow smirk curled on his lips, but his eyes were anything but amused.“Then don’t.”

He pulled. And before you could react, before you could stop him, he stepped into the pool with you. Magic surged around you both, light swallowing the world whole. The magic fall was alive. It wrapped around your bodies, seeking, searching, demanding answers. Your body trembled as the magic within you pulsed violently, tangled in Anaxa’s essence, reacting as if it had always belonged.

No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You had come here to remove him.

Instead, the pool was accepting him. Accepting you together.

Anaxa’s fingers laced through yours, his magic intertwining too naturally.

You snapped your head toward him. “What did you do?”

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something deep, all-consuming.

“I belong to you.” His voice was soft, reverent, worshipful.

The spell was not something you could simply undo. Not something to sever without consequence. It was no longer just a spell. It had become a foundation. A part of you and him. The magic fall itself recognized it. The water around you pulsed, ripples of golden energy reacting to the bond, not rejecting it, but strengthening it.

Your stomach turned cold.

This place....this pure, ancient magic...should have erased him from you. Instead, it was solidifying him in you. There would be no breaking this. Not without breaking yourself.

Anaxa had known all along. That was why he hadn’t fought the potion. Why he hadn’t tried to stop you before. Because he knew you would fail.

His other hand rose slowly, fingertips brushing your cheek.

You should have slapped him away.

Should have burned him with your magic.

Should have done something.

Instead, you stared at him- trapped in the realization that this man had given himself to you in a way that could never be undone.

Anaxa’s smirk softened into something too tender, too dangerous.

“You can’t get rid of me, Master.”

His lips brushed against your knuckles, breath warm against your skin.

“And even if you could…”

His fingers curled against yours. “You wouldn’t.”

You couldn’t deny it. That part of him that got woven to you affected you greatly. Your life is now his too. But will he get the upper hand? You shall let time decides.

Everytime Scaramouche/Wanderer is depicted as a fuckboy an angel FUCKING EXPLODES AND DROWNS IN ITS OWN GUTS

DOJT ELT EM RNEMWAR THIS MAN.

Im gnawing at the bars of enclosure

(hsr gameplay leaks!)

slldsşşsşdsşdşşdlfsşşfşslfşdlfğslfsğlfşslfsşgksşldlflsşdşşdşfğsşd.

@sweet-comatose

pro tip: drink water