adrisqueaks

[adrisqueaks]

restless nights.

you get into an argument and they become restless without you by their side.

angst with comfort. apologies for any ooc moments and stubborn mc/reader.

sylus

"I'm not taking you with me."

His words left no room for anymore rebuttals. No matter how persistent you got and what reasoning you gave, Sylus continues to reject your request to join him for the upcoming Onychinus mission.

He's never had a problem with you tagging along before, so why now? You've learned from Luke and Kieran that Sylus will be dealing with one of the most dangerous men they'd ever met, so you wanted to support him. When you brought the topic up to him, all he said was that the setting will be too much for you.

You reassured him that you can handle anything, being a hunter who's familiar with the messiest, most vile types of environment, but regardless of your reasonings, he fully intends to go to this mission alone.

"Okay."

The moment he watched you calmly closed the door on your way out of the room, Sylus knew he fucked up.

You avoided him all afternoon, and it didn't take long for loneliness to strike him hard.

He hated the silence.

Knowing you're under the same roof and yet you're deliberately ignoring him... he'd much rather have you screaming at him.

Sylus remained at his working station to continue modifying a weapon that he'd recently purchased; however, his distracted state prevented him from making progress.

The face you made before walking away from him keeps haunting him.

The disappointment in your eyes made his chest unbearably tight.

He tried to push the uncomfortable feeling away, telling himself that his response to you is for the best, but it didn't work at all.

It was difficult to concentrate on anything else.

He wondered what you were up to.

What if you decide to leave because you can't stand to be near him?

Just imagining you rush out of the house while angry caused Sylus' hands to become unsteady and accidentally crossed some wires that weren't supposed to touch.

And so, the weapon sparked and caught on fire.

"...great."

He decided to move on to boxing, hoping to release some anger — not at you, but for his enemies that he'll be seeing for the upcoming mission. If they weren't so... filthy and gruesome, he wouldn't have to worry about keeping you away from them.

After two minutes of hitting the punching bag, Sylus' eyes started to repeatedly glance towards the entrance of the gym, checking to see if a certain someone would walk in for their weekly boxing lessons.

Your boxing gloves are in the usual place, untouched. He recalled the day when you two bought it while shopping: you were so excited about using it, you woke him up early just so you could start boxing while wearing them.

But now, you won't even step in the gym because he made you upset.

Suddenly, Sylus was no longer in the mood to box.

You didn't join him for dinner.

He wasn't surprised, though he felt another pang at his chest when he sat down on the empty dinning table.

He learned from Luke and Kieran that you had already eaten a little earlier while ranting to Mephisto, who was your only companion for supper.

The crow gave him a questioning look as he flew by and parched on the empty chair next to him, where you usually sit.

"I know. I'm working on it."

Sylus went to his bedroom, hoping that you don't run away and that you hear him out.

But when he opened the door, a cold breeze hit him along with a lonely feeling. The room is empty, and you're nowhere to be found.

He knew you're still somewhere in the house; otherwise, Mephisto would've told him already that you'd left. You staying means he's not totally screwed — not yet, at least.

The only other place he thought to check is the room where you used to sleep in, before your relationship became official.

And sure enough, after calming down his nervous, hitched breath, Sylus knocked on the door.

No response, but the room is unlocked.

He dared to take a peak inside and immediately softened at the sight of you sleeping on the bed. His feet acted before his mind and walked up towards your side.

He sat down on the mattress and his eyes slowly traced the ravishing features of your face that he missed, despite the argument being only just several hours ago.

He yearned to touch you, just for a second, to feel your warmth and softness. His right hand carefully reached towards your face, knuckles aiming to brush against your cheek.

But then, you opened your eyes.

Sylus froze for a moment, waiting for you to tell him to leave and stay away from him, but instead, you just blinked at him with curiosity and a hint of amusement.

"What are you doing?"

"...caught me redhanded." he chuckles. "I was looking at you. Because you wouldn't let me do it while you were awake. Sorry to disturb your peaceful sleep."

You watched his hand that was about to touch your face slowly retract, and you wanted to grab it and embrace it.

"...who said I was sleeping peacefully?"

Sylus looks at you with confusion.

"It's hard for me to sleep whenever we have arguments." you murmured, sitting up slowly so you can look at him properly. "I wanted to see you, but..."

You were sulking all afternoon.

You grew tired of arguing with him and thought you'd eventually find the right words to tell him later on, once you've calmed down.

"Me too." Sylus slowly reached for your hand, almost afraid that you'd pull away, though he relaxed once you intertwined your fingers with his. "Let me tell you why I'm against you accompanying me for this mission."

He told you about the shady people he'll be visiting. They are nasty criminals who have done unforgivable things to people, and everything about them is just disgusting — physically and figuratively.

As much as he wanted your company and assistance, Sylus doesn't want them setting their filthy eyes on you. He doesn't want them to know about your existence at all.

Mostly, he doesn't want to waste your time and energy on people like them. He knows you're strong enough to be by his side and help him take them down, just as you have done a few times before, but he'd much rather keep you away from their dirty hands.

"I understand now." You tightened your grip on his hand. "And still.... I want to go with you."

Though his brows furrowed as a silent reply, he stayed quiet and allowed you to fully let out everything you want to say.

"I appreciate your concern for me, truly. But ever since the twins told me about them, that they're dangerous and full of dirty tricks, I can't help but worry.

You're strong and you definitely don't need me, but still... I asked to go with you because I want to support you, just like how you sometimes help me out with my missions."

Sylus was met with the familiar look of persistence and determination in your eyes and realized he was never going to win this argument.

You've always been stubborn.

But that's just one of the reasons why he's so infauted with you.

You win.

"I should have known better than to try to leave you out of something like this." he sighs in defeat, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.

You grinned at his tone. "It'll be fine. And fun — maybe. If not, then I'll suffer with you."

He clicked his tongue and poked your forehead. "Fine. But before we go, you have to prove to me that you're capable of fighting them."

"Hmm? Prove to you, how?"

"You'll have to join me in the boxing ring tomorrow, kitten."

You gasped and your eyes lit up. "My gloves! I've abandoned them! Let's go boxing right now!"

"...weren't you just about to sleep?"

"No way! I wanna hit something now! Come on!"

Sylus allowed himself to be dragged out of the room and brought back to the gym, where the boxing ring awaits.

Unlike earlier, the gym appears to be warmer and much more lively.

At last, Sylus can breathe easily.

zayne

Getting scolded by your lover was not how you were expecting your trip to the hospital to go.

He never raised his voice, but the coldness in his tone was what struck you in the chest.

He reprimanded you for being too reckless and careless at work, stating that you need to pay more attention to your surroundings and not throw yourself in danger at any chance you get.

Maybe you caught him in a bad mood, or maybe he was fed up with all the times that he has to see you with injuries. Either way, you didn't feel like being around him for a while.

Later that night, you fell asleep earlier than usual and missed a call from Zayne. You knew you probably should've called him back once you woke up in the morning, but the memory of him scolding you like a child made you throw your phone aside and momentarily avoid him.

Zayne is wide awake and his eyes are glued to the screen of his phone.

For once, he doesn't have work to keep him up late at night. Instead, you're the reason why he's unable to sleep.

You haven't been returning his texts and calls.

He knew you're upset because of what he did at the hospital. He shouldn't have spoken to you like that. You were already hurt. The last thing you needed was for him to give you a lecture over something you don't have much control over.

Zayne wanted to apologize to you.

He considered going to your apartment so he can properly give his sincere apology, but with the way you've been deflecting his attempts to communicate, he figured you wanted some space from him.

It's understandable that you'd feel that way, but still, Zayne can't ignore the aching in his chest. The other side of the bed feels colder than usual, and the silence of his house was uncomfortable.

You should've been next to him, resting your head on his chest while showing him funny memes and videos of cats after playing silly games on your phone, then you'd randomly come across an interesting article that would be your discussion until the two of you fall asleep.

This time, all he can do is keep checking his phone, just in case you decide to text or call him, and he'd answer in a heartbeat.

He wanted to hear your voice just so knows that everything is going to be okay, and that he doesn't need to worry about the possibility of losing you. Unfortunately, he wasn't granted that wish.

He eventually fell asleep with his phone on hand resting on the empty side of the bed.

Zayne was right.

You really are careless.

Showing up at the hospital twice in a week, just two days after your previous visit, is embarrassing at this point. You admit that your mind wasn't as awake and alert as it should've been, and so you've landed yourself another injury while fighting a Wanderer.

You did your best to hide from Zayne.

In fact, you tried going to a different hospital but Tara dropped you off here and fled instantly, so you have no choice but to go in with your slightly injured shoulder.

It just so happens that Doctor Greyson was the one that treated you, as he was the only one currently available.

You thought you'd be able to leave without seeing Zayne at all, but Greyson was unaware of your current situation so he informed him that he just finished fixing you up and you should be free to leave now.

Zayne just finished a long surgery, but once Greyson passed such valuable information to him, he rushed to your assigned room.

He caught you just as you were about to step out.

"Ah!" You put a hand over your racing heart. "You scared me!"

"Sorry." Zayne paused for a moment. "May I ask you to join me in my office?"

Your stomach shifted anxiously. "Sure..." The walk to the location was filled with nothing but awkward silence, which hurt to think about because it's Zayne.

That's the man whom you love more than anything else.

The last thing you want with him is an uncomfortable silence.

At the very least, you were able to gather your courage to own up to your mistakes.

Once he closed the door...

"I'm sorry!"

Zayne was caught off-guard.

"What?"

"You're right. I've been careless lately." Your shoulders sagged as you accepted defeat. "Like my injury today could've been avoided if only I was a little more cautious. I really do need to work on it better. I'm sorry for ignoring your texts and calls. I know you're just looking out for me."

Zayne let out a breath of relief.

He failed to stop himself from pulling you into his arms, so tight that you let out a gasp, though you didn't complain so he didn't release you just yet.

He desperately needed to hold you.

He was afraid that you might not want to see him anymore because of the way he had spoken to you, but it seems he'd gotten a chance to correct himself.

"I'm sorry for talking to you so coldy." He backed away just a small distance so he could look you in the eyes, though his hands remained locked on your elbows. "There are much better ways to express my concerns for you. I won't make the same mistake again. But also..."

He took your left hand and kissed the back of it. "Please don't ever try to hide your injuries from me whenever you do get hurt."

"Ah...." you wondered how he found out you were trying to hide from him today. "Sorry. I won't."

Zayne smiled and kissed your forehead.

"I'll accept your apology, on one condition...."

"What?"

"You have to spend the night and the whole weekend with me now. To make up for the times when you weren't by my side."

caleb

"I did it to protect you."

"And now, the fleet has all the access to the information that I was supposed to get. But yes. I was so fortunate that The Colonel came to my rescue. Thanks."

Caleb sighs as you shut the door and locked yourself in your own room of his house in Safehaven.

It's true that he interfered with your mission and you failed to do what you were sent for, but the man you were interrogating was equipped with a weapon that could've left you permamently injured.

What was he supposed to do?

He wasn't going to just watch and wait for you to get hurt.

The man just happened to be a common enemy of the fleet and the hunters association, and it seems that you've crossed paths for a race on whoever could capture him first.

While you technically reached him first, Caleb was the one that took him away and had him in captive with the fleet.

He figured he could just find that man and get the information you need, though it seems your mission was time sensitive and you were supposed to report to the association by tonight.

While he feels bad about you failing to accomplish your mission, he doesn't regret barging in to stop the enemy from hurting you.

His priority has always been you and it will always be you.

Everything that he's ever done is to protect you, even if you're against it. That's why this isn't the first time you've fought.

Ever since you were younger, you'd sometimes get mad at him for doing something that was intended to keep you out of harm's way.

It's nothing new.

Still, no matter how many times it happens, Caleb will always hate the feeling of you being upset with him.

He especially cannot stand it when you pretend he doesn't exist. He'd rather you hit him as hard as you can than act as if you don't see him. Otherwise, what other purpose does he have, if not to provide for you and be by your side?

Caleb made dinner for two, but he's the only one in the dinning room, sitting across an empty chair. It's dead silent aside from the noise of the flying vehicles roaming around outside his house.

He already put food in your plate and filled you a glass of juice, just in case you give in to his attempt to lure you out with the delicious smell of tonight's meal.

Caleb took his time eating. He had sent you texts, with lots of stickers, telling you that dinner is ready and that you can come out of your room now, though not a single message had gotten a reply.

His eyes would constantly dart to your closed door, hoping that it would open and you'd stubbornly come out with a pout on your face, just like what you always do ever since you were little.

He wasn't so lucky tonight.

But that doesn't mean he'll let you starve. You can be mad at him, but at the very least, be angry with a full stomach.

Caleb picked up your plate and drink and set it down on the floor right outside your room.

"Pip-squeak." He knocked a couple of times. "It's fine if you don't want to see me. You don't have to forgive me, but please eat something before you sleep. I'll leave the food outside the door."

He paused for a moment, as an apology almost slipped out of his tongue, though he wants to do it properly when you're face-to-face, so he will wait for a better time.

"Goodnight."

Afterwards, Caleb took a long bath before going to bed. You two had plans to watch movies tonight after your mission, but that was definitely not going to happen now. He had no idea things would end like how it did, and now he's staring at a wall feeling empty.

Around midnight, you quietly stepped out of your room. You brought the dirty, empty dishes back in the kitchen so you can wash them and return them in the storage.

Five steps in the dark kitchen and you almost drop the fragile items on your hands.

There's something lurking in the shadows.

"Ah!"

Your right hand swung up to hit the figure that started to walk towards you, ready to hit them with the plate.

The object was caught easily and snatched right out off your fingers. The light switch clicked and soon your eyes had been greeted by bright white light.

And you learned that the figure that had been bathing in darkness is none other than Caleb, who looked just as freaked out as you.

"Why are you still awake?!" you screeched, putting a hand over your pounding heart. "Why are you out here just standing in the dark like some demon?!"

"I wasn't standing in darkness. I was sitting." he huffs, putting the plate on the counter table. "And I should be asking you the same thing, Pip-squeak. Why are you awake?!"

His eyes suddenly widened and his shoulders stiffened.

"You're...not gonna leave, are you?"

He looked like a sad, kicked puppy that made you feel like a super villain.

"No, I'm not leaving." you replied softly, taking a step closer to him after setting down the empty glass of juice on the counter table. "I was just going to wash these... dinner was delicious.... by the way..."

Caleb let out a sigh of relief before a smile came to his face. "I'm glad you liked it. If you still have room in your stomach, wanna go for dessert? I still have some of the ice cream that you bought last time."

Your eyes lit up at the mention of the sweet dessert. "Yes!"

As the two of you enjoyed the ice cream, Caleb took the opportunity to talk about what happened.

"I'll admit that I don't regret interferring with your work to save you from getting hurt." he started slowly, watching you just in case your mood flips again. "But I am sorry for getting you in trouble."

You shook your head. "I'm over it now, but... you have to remember that I'm also capable of dealing with dangerous guys. I may get hurt, but it's part of my job. You don't have to jump out and save me every time, even though I appreciate it and you, every time."

Caleb sighs, recalling you repeating similar words to him before.

He really does jump out of nowhere to save you a lot — in fact, anytime he can, he does it.

"You're right. I know you've gotten strong, Pip-squeak." he grinned, patting your head. "I'll be sure to remember it. But also, you have to remember... worrying about you is part of my job. That'll never change, even if you become the greatest superhero of the deepspace."

"Heh."

You can't help but laugh because it's true.

That is just how Caleb is.

And it's one of the things that you love about him, despite all the times he pissed you off by being over protective.

"If I become the greatest superhero of Deepspace, will you bring me more ice cream?"

Caleb laughs at your empty bowl. "All you have to do is ask and I shall obey, Pip-squeak."

Once drowsiness finally hit you, you returned to bed and this time, Caleb made sure to cling to you the entire time.

rafayel

You'd been extremely busy for almost two weeks because of a big, intricate mission. It left you very little time to rest, and absolutely no time to go out with your lover.

But once you finally got some freedom, the first thing you did was give him a call, asking him out for lunch.

"It's okay, Miss Bodyguard. You don't have to see me if you don't want to. I know you've been really busy to make any time for me."

Maybe he was just joking or being dramatic as usual, but something about his tone rubbed you the wrong way.

"Okay then. Bye."

The moment the call ended, Rafayel wanted to throw his phone at the wall.

Why did he say that?

He'll admit that he has been sulking, disappointed that he hasn't seen you for days; however, he knows it's not your fault. You're just doing your job, after all.

His mood hasn't been the best lately, and he ended up saying the wrong thing to you. Now, he scared you away from him even more.

He wanted to see you and apologize, but you sounded quite mad and he's certain you don't want to see him at the moment, so it's probably best to leave you alone for now.

Thomas entered the studio and almost tripped over a paintbrush on the floor. The place is even messier than before.

He found Rafayel lying on the couch, wide wake and staring at the ceiling.

"Your studio's getting way too messy. Maybe you should clean up a little."

"It's fine. No one's going to come over anyways."

Thomas was quick to notice his dispirited tone. Rafayel already seemed lonely last week, but this time his mood seems worse.

Another proof of that is the lack of progress on the paintings.

"You haven't started anything new yet?"

"I haven't had any inspiration."

The one hint that Thomas got about what was bringing Rafayel down is the yellow bird plushie right next to him, who he may or may not have been talking to.

"So, it's your Miss Hunter, isn't it?"

It's happened a couple of times before. You two have gotten into arguments before and it usually ends in the same way, with Rafayel sulking like this. This time, it might've lasted longer than usual.

"I don't know what happened, but I suggest seeing her and talking it out."

"I know that. But if she doesn't want to see me.... what if she starts screaming and hitting me when I'm there?"

Or worse, you tell him you hate him.

His stomach tightened with discomfort just by thinking about it.

Thomas chuckles lightly. "So what? You can take it, can't you? Then again, she is a hunter.... and she could kill you...."

Rafayel frowned and froze for a moment.

Then, he suddenly rolls over and drops to the floor before jumping to his feet. "Thomas, you're a genius!" he exclaims, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him vigorously. "I don't care if she stabs me with her sword! I'd survive. but... if I go on another day withour seeing her, I might actually die for real..."

"Hh — sure, I guess..."

"I'm gonna go see her now!"

Thomas watched as he started to scramble and sprint out of the room. "Wait, you should clean up first before — "

"Ow! Who put this paint brush here?!"

You opened the door and Rafayel immediately shields his face with his hands, as if to protect himself from you.

"....I don't know what's going on but I'm a little offended."

You wanted to laugh but you reminded yourself that you're still mad at him.

Or at least, you were.

The moment Rafayel showed up at your doorstep, all you want to do is hug him.

"If you're gonna stab me, do it quickly but at least wait until I say sorry first so it doesn't sound like I'm using my last, dying breath to make it up to you. I mean, I would do that too if I must, but I'd prefer if I don't sound pathetic and gross."

"...what?"

Rafayel pulled himself together and held both of your hands.

"I'm sorry for what I said. I promise I didn't mean it at all. I just missed you a lot and... I.... I might've been...a little grumpy because of it... but I still shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I'm really sorry."

You softened and held his hands tighter. "I'm sorry too, for snapping so fast and running away. I also wasn't in the best mood."

Rafayel didn't waste another second before pulling you into his arms.

"Let's not do that again. It's stupid and silly and boring."

"Agreed."

He buried his face against your neck and held you tighter for a little longer while your fingers brush his hair from the back.

Rafayel took a moment to feel your warmth.

You're here, right in front of him, after days that felt like months.

Letting you go will be extremely difficult.

"Miss Bodyguard...."

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna come to my house? Reddie misses you...

"Just Reddie?"

"...well, I missed you way more, but you can spare him five minutes of attention. But that's it. The rest of your time is mine."

xavier

For your latest mission, Jenna paired you up with a new hunter that just joined your team. She said she wanted him to learn from you, so he became your temporary partner.

Xavier wasn't quite happy with the captain's decision.

Jenna never said he couldn't join you, right? The new guy can keep following you, but that doesn't mean he has to be alone with you.

Fast forward to the end of the mission, Xavier had been so focused on making sure the new guy keeps a fair distance from you, and the newbie almost got hurt.

You took responsibility and jumped in at the very last moment to save him, leaving you with a minor scratch on your left arm. Nonetheless, the mission was a success.

You confronted Xavier afterwards. You didn't care at all about the scratch, but you were more concerned with him letting his jealousy get in the way of the mission.

Captain Jenna scolded him about not following orders. Although she never specified that he couldn't join you, he still messed with the plan that the team discussed early on. Luckily, he's not deeply in trouble: he'd only been warned not to do it again.

You mostly repeated what Jenna said, but you also told Xavier that he shouldn't have gone out of his way to physically keep your temporary partner away from you, and that you wished he trusted you a little more, especially in a professional environment.

Xavier was unable to come up with a response and like always, whenever he's jealous, dark clouds appeared all around him as he sulks.

You didn't feel like cradling him at the moment, mostly because you felt tired from the mission, and you needed to cool your ahead after all that happened.

You went straight to your apartment after work. Soon after taking a shower, you landed on your bed and welcomed a nap.

Xavier anxiously paces back and forth in his apartment.

He knows you're sleeping because of the fitness watch app that you both use. He decided that he'll wait until you wake up before apologizing, so at the mean time, he's practicing in his head what he'll be saying to you.

You two rarely have arguments because he'd learned to be more straightforward with his thoughts and feelings, but when jealousy comes into play, he still struggles to contain himself. He's working on it, but he's having quite a slow progress.

He'll admit that he might have gone a little overboard today, and he hated that his actions led to you getting hurt, even if it's just a scratch. If only he hadn't gotten in the way.

"...I'm going now."

Unable to wait any longer, Xavier teleports out of his apartment and appears on your balcony — it's become a habit of his.

He found you sleeping on the couch of your living room.

Xavier walked up to you quietly and covered your body with the throw bunched up by your feet. He knelt down on the carpeted floor and admired your features.

He knew he shouldn't get jealous so easily, but how could he not?

He's so deeply in love with you, he can't help but act irrationally sometimes.

But even more, he despises whenever you're upset with him and because of him, so he knows he can't keep behaving drastically all the time whenever another person who shows an ounce of admiration for you comes around.

"You smell like burnt cookies."

Xavier snapped out of his thoughts only to realize that you had woken up.

He took a whiff of his white hoodie and confirmed your observation. "I tried to make you some cookies to make up for earlier but I got distracted and forgot about them...."

And by distracted, he means pacing back and forth across the kitchen while writing his apology speech in his head.

"Pfftt.."

Xavier scratched the back of his head while you laughed loudly. His eyes lit up at the sight of your joy on your face.

"I'm sorry about your cookies." he sighs. "And I'm sorry for acting the way I did earlier. I promise I'll... try not to get jealous..."

You laughed again, this time softer as you leaned forward to brush his hair with your fingers. "The truth is, I don't mind that you get jealous sometimes. Even I get jealous too."

"Really?"

"Really."

He never notices you secretly being bitter whenever someone is clearly attracted to him, though you never act out on your jealousy because he always reassures you that he only has eyes for you.

"It's normal to get jealous." you told him. "But next time.... just make sure not to step out of line and get yourself or anyone innocent in trouble."

Xavier nodded and kissed the palm of your hand that had been combing his hair. "I promise I'll be more responsible from now on."

You smiled and pecked his nose.

"The smell of cookies really got me. Wanna try again? I'll help you this time."

"I'd like that. But first...." he rested his face onto your lap. "Can we just stay like this for a little while? I think I need to recharge."

Your hand returns to combing his soft hair. "Of course."

[adrisqueaks]

my babyyyy! 😣 look at him sulking and pouting😭🤍

full credit to artist: @fishbone0306 on X!

[adrisqueaks]

people don't talk enough about how fucking funny it is that bruce can sub in his kids as batman when he's too busy. like can you imagine it from the league's perspective? imagine you have this really mysterious, geniusly scary guy that you know next to nothing about, never cracks a smile and yet always comes out on top, and one day he shows up to a league meeting and there's just something... off. about him.

you can't pin it down because he's literally acting exactly the same as usual and there's no reason to think there's anything wrong, but maybe he shifted in his seat one to many times, or he looked just a tad bit too bored during green lantern's case review, but something's just... odd. so you quietly ask superman after the meeting if anything's up with the bat bcs you know those two are closer and also clark can hear heartbeats so if something's wrong surely he'll pick it up? and without hesitation he leans over to you and mumbles 'yeah batman was busy, that's his 17 yr old son. he's a crime lord and kills people sometimes though so we're not allowed to let him into the weapons department.' and then walks away like it's normal.

like the whiplash the league must go through every time they realise that no, this is not their fearless dark and brooding leader, this is in fact one of his dipshit kids being forced to sub in bcs the real batman broke an ankle, is incredible.

wonder woman: so that's my proposed plan, what are your thoughts batman?

batman: hn. i think that- *voice raising two octaves* oh shit hold on my phones buzzing

the league:

batman, answering the phone and immediately dropping the Bat Posture™: what do you mean- aw come on little wing that's not fair! but- no, NO DON'T YOU DARE TELL ALFRED I'LL BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU- IM SORRY OK I'LL BUY YOU MORE- *catches sight of the league watching him, baffled* *stiffens* ok listen i promise to replace them but i gotta go, please show me mercy iloveyoubye *hangs up*

the league:

batman:

batman: *coughs awkwardly*

superman: *sighs*

batman, to superman: ...red hood found out i ate his chocolate pretzels-

superman, shaking his head: just... just stop.

the flash: so this isn't batman either, is it?

wonder woman: if this one's also a criminal im losing my mind.

superman, tiredly: no no, this one isn't a criminal. this one's actually a cop.

batman: *sinks down in his seat* b's gonna kill me

green lantern, mystified: where does he keep GETTING you all from!?

'batman' dick, who made a pact with jason to Always Fuck With Bruce Whenever The Opportunity Arises: batman is a whore.

they think they've finally sussed out all 2 of batman's kids and then one day during a meeting 'batman' ends up on a 30 minute rant about different hacking methods this tech villain could be using that results in him half way through a sentence breaking off to say '-oh uncle clark could you pass me that pen- thanks, anyway so-' and then five minutes after that when the league have all been exchanging incredulous looks he finally freezes and is like. SHIT.

wonder woman: you're different from the other two, aren't you?

batman: maybe i am maybe i'm not, you can't prove it.

wonder woman:

green lantern: so like, are you new or have you just managed to avoid sub duty up until now?

superman, coughing: actually, this is this ones ninth occasion of replacing batman. you've just never realised before.

the league:

batman: yeah actually the other two are kinda mad i lasted longer than them...

the flash: how the fuck does he keep getting kids with the exact same build as him!??!?

'batman' tim, spent 20 minutes padding the suit out so he would look the part, still mad that bruce keeps palming WE work off on him: oh he forces us to take steroids for it.

the league, concerned:

superman, pinching the bridge of his nose: now come on red robin-

batman, fully tearing up and looking distraught: PLEASE uncle clark, it HURTS, you can't keep COVERING FOR HIM!

superman, frantically to the league: this one lies.

bonus

the league, squinting at batman:

the league: ...

superman: *head in his hands, too disappointed to do anything*

the league: *silently exchanging looks, wondering if anybody's brave enough to say anything*

duke as batman, fully aware this is fucking stupid but jason and tim fell on the floor laughing when dick came up with the idea and frankly, he wanted to see if anybody would have to guts to call him out: so, are we all ready to start the meeting?

[adrisqueaks]

sometimes i remember there’s no second season of julie and the phantoms and then i get filled with an uncontrollable rage

[adrisqueaks]

Me, as a stressed college student everyday

[adrisqueaks]

I love it so much! It’s just exquisite 🥹

⸝⸝ ꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃. 🫧ㆍ₊⊹

✦ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ;; rafayel x gn!reader ✦ 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 ;; fluff, pure fluff and brainrots, not fully coherent thoughts ✦ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 ;; 0.7k ✦ 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 ;; obsessed and thinking about husband rafayel 24/7 - so a little filler drabble while i finish up the zayne oneshot and before i go to bed. enjoy my seashells <3 (currently can't add my yellows - i'll edit the format tomorrow)

✦ 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘦 (𝘧𝘪𝘤/𝘩𝘤𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯!!) ♡.

⟢ husband! rafayel who makes sure there's always a place for you to sit or lay down on when you're in the room watching him paint

⟢ husband! rafayel who smears paint on your cheeks while you're sleeping, only to feel bad and paint a small sunset or ocean or sunrise or the sky or anything, really, across your cheeks

⟢ husband! rafayel who will trace miscellaneous shapes on your collarbones and shoulders - connecting every freckle and mole

⟢ husband! rafayel who looks at your stretch marks and kisses them gently, tracing every curve and smiling up at you, stopping to only tell you how much they look like stardust

⟢ husband! rafayel who would cave when you give him puppy eyes and a pout - he's weak for you, he knows

⟢ husband! rafayel who once reserved a whole restaurant because he remembered you saying you don't like eating in front of a lot of people, just so you would be comfy on your date night

⟢ husband! rafayel who would collect seashells everyday as he walks on the beach with you, telling you stories about his adventures when he was a little kid in lemurian waters; placing them in a tiny jar that he gives to you - and his grin is so blinding and hug so warm and kiss so tender when he sees it on your desk and in your bag.

⟢ husband! rafayel who thinks you look exceptionally pretty in pearls, but he thinks you're ethereal when you're in his bed, curled up around him, bed hair and sour breath and all

⟢ husband! rafayel who grew fond of cats because of how much you love them - who fell in love with the way you looked and loved cats, and could never think of cats as harmful ever again (especially when you look at them like how you look at him)

⟢ husband! rafayel who buys you dresses upon dresses, if only to see you wear them and spin around like the disney princess you deserved to be but couldn't affort to be

⟢ husband! rafayel introducing you to little fishies during a swim in the ocean, calling you his wife and watching with awe as the fishes boop your nose and circle you two, guiding you both through the waters to the prettiest coral reef ever

⟢ husband! rafayel who lets you see his silvery scars from fighting for his kingdom, letting you trace them even though he flinches from the memories - only soothed by your fingertips and gentle kisses to his skin, your calloused thumbs wiping away falling tears

⟢ husband! rafayel dedicating a whole exhibit with every painting of everything you've ever loved and liked, with the centerpiece as both of you dancing at the banquet, with the words "for my ocean" as its caption

⟢ husband! rafayel who has never thought of having kids until he took one look at you with your nephew, and decided he wanted some then and there

⟢ husband! rafayel who brings you trinkets and tidbits from wherever he travels to, be it in Linkon or overseas, because every little thing reminds him of you (he'd rather live with your memory and you by his side than have to lose you again)

⟢ husband! rafayel that would not let you go anywhere without him - he knows you can defend yourself, but he wants to be able to see you and touch you just in case; he likes protecting you (if only to make up for all the time that he wasn't there to protect you - could you blame him? he wanted you to forget, he was sure you would)

⟢ husband! rafayel that would cook for you when you return home from work, shit-faced and weak, wobbly, exhausted legs - who would feed you and hold you close as your words slurred, a fond smile on his face as he squished your cheeks, watching you fall asleep, your features so beautifully calm and peaceful

⟢ husband! rafayel who never wants to see you cry, but would sit there on the bathroom floor at 5am, wiping your tears away when memories of you both together centuries ago flooded your mind, his heart aching as he watched you cry over not remembering him when it really was his fault

⟢ husband! rafayel who would hold your hair back when you didn't like the way it felt, tying it up into a bun and decorating it with little seashell clips so you felt pretty

⟢ husband! rafayel who would see his child hold a paintbrush, painting a very wonky looking apple and sing with glee - who would frame the apple painting and title it "[child's name]'s first painting"

⟢ husband! rafayel who would tell his child how wonderful of a mother you are, spinning the baby around before he tucks the baby onto his hips, holding her close

⟢ husband! rafayel who would rest his forehead against yours at least 5 times a day, loving the peace and love that radiates from you, seeping into him and soothing his bones, a quick kiss on your lips sealed the deal

⟢ husband! rafayel who always tells you that he's glad to finally be yours, to kiss you and hold you close

⟢ husband! rafayel who looks at you like you hung the moon and stars when you tell him you love him

⟢ husband! rafayel who is just so happy you come home to him everyday

♡. head empty only husband rafayel.

✧˖°. header creds ;; @editshan <𝟑

♡₊˚ 🪼・ copyright @scribeofnight all rights reserved ;; do not copy, steal, plagarize, reword or repost to other platforms without proper permission || all credits to original owners and creators of the characters from the media + pictures that are not my own.

[adrisqueaks]

I loved it so much

zayne: a doctor's companion

+ summary: A certain healthcare companion finds its way into Linkon City, and a particular doctor is about to discover what it means to say ba-la-la-la-lah.

+ tags: established relationship, baymax (big hero 6), fluff, canon-complaint, one-shot, medical terms, phone call, gender neutral reader mentioned, mostly zayne's POV, first meetings

+ word count: 1829 | (ao3)

+ a/n: inspired by this tweet! also i just love baymax a lot and i think him and zayne would be a cute duo thank you ; including the stanford article i read for the surgery mentioned here! (not necessary for understanding though) (also if i get any med stuff wrong apologies i did my best! i was a girl in stem but not Stem yk)

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

Zayne was sure he had slept well the night before. Had his full eight hours, breakfast accomplished and a handful of kisses from his partner before heading out in his pristine, white coat. The drive to work was the same scenery of Linkon City rushing past, soon parked in his designated lot and tracing a familiar path towards Akso Hospital’s entrance.

So, even with such a practiced routine, how did he end up here? 

“I will scan you now. Please remain in place, Dr. Zayne.”

Zayne raises a hand in an effort to dissuade his unforeseen guest. “That won't be necessary.” But his rejection, in turn, was rejected itself—his brows narrowed at the losing notion.

“But it is. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion.” The robot calmly states, reflecting a similar monotone diction to the doctor. “I was alerted to the need of medical attention,” he continues, plush footsteps along the hardwood floor squeaking as he approaches the seated doctor. "When you said 'Oof.' So, I am here."

That singular oof traced back to the faint murmur under Zayne's breath just minutes ago when pushing through the growing crowd of peering eyes at Baymax's unprecedented presence. An unusual sight for everyday work life, the mysterious yet kind robot drew in the attention of incoming patients and passersby who happened to catch a glimpse. Zayne’s opportune timing and arrival to work hurriedly whisked away the looming inflatable as crowds huddled in growing excitement, geeking and gossiping alike. Most of his efforts thus far were put into escorting the curiously soft giant through the pristine halls and past the doorway of his office without garnering further unwarranted attention.

And currently, Zayne found himself subjected to a consultation by said robot.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?” Baymax inquires. A chart of faces ranging in emotion and color flash over his chest in display. At the highest end stood a red expression painted in anguish, and to the lowest was a green facade of serenity.

Quickly, Zayne plainly states his number to mirror his current state. “Zero.”

Baymax stares him down with the abyss of his rather blank eyes wordlessly after receiving the response. In mere seconds, a pixelated, monotone hum with a hint of warmth made its way to Zayne’s ears. “Scan complete. You have sustained no recent injuries. However, your cortisol and neurotransmitter levels indicate that you are experiencing stress.”

No, really? Zayne’s brows and posture straightened then, removing his glasses and setting them aside. He echoes the conclusion, pushing down the unspoken remark with a bite of his tongue. “Stress? Is that so?”

Baymax nods, holding up a singular finger as he continues to reveal his findings. “This can be attributed to, for example, overconsumption of sugary foods or work overload. Have you had any of these two things recently?”

Zayne’s lips purse in thought, remembering the new maple syrup you had doused his pancakes in over an hour ago. ‘I picked this up during an overseas mission and thought you might like it,’ you explained to him, drawing an intricately sticky pattern of hearts atop his breakfast. It was still just syrup—not so much a difference in flavor to a regular one you could find at the nearby supermarket—but he was grateful for the gift nonetheless as he indulged in the sweet treat with you.

“Sugar, yes. Nothing wrong with it when done in moderation.”

Sure, he had a sweet tooth. But had been doing well to maintain a healthy intake of sugary pieces, lest he wanted another round of your ‘scoldings’ and an appointment to the neighboring orthodontist again.

With a slight sigh, he clasps his hands together over the expanse of his desk and continues. As for workload? He was almost always caught up in it, whether it were hands-on procedures or consultations. Today was no exception to the rule.

“And I do have work, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

“I see. May I make a suggestion?” Baymax asks.

Zayne gives him a curt signal of acknowledgement. “You may.”

“I can assist you with said workload. I am equipped with several modules and sensors that will be of use.”

Zayne contemplates for a moment, curious to the veracity of such a claim. Well, when one forms a hypothesis, the best way to test out the theory was through a designed experiment; and he was ready to do just that. “Alright. Give me just a moment.”

With a couple of speedy taps, Zayne pulls up a recent patient file and gestures for Baymax to approach. As the airy robot bounces into place beside him, Zayne points towards a diagram, a series of numbers and waves indicating observational data. “Here. Based on what you see, can you tell me what surgery this patient underwent?”

Baymax follows the trail of red lines, analyzing quickly in succession. “Their ECG fluctuations are affected by the noraderaline administrations over time. This line,” Baymax points to a blue parallel. “Indicates the oxygen levels throughout the surgery duration.” Calmly, he turns to blink at Zayne. “Diagnosis? The patient underwent a coronary artery bypass grafting procedure.”

Zayne nodded. Each detail was right on par, much to his surprise. “I’m impressed. Your creator must have put a lot of great effort into you.”

“He did. He was wonderful.” Baymax gives a thumbs up in return. “Am I to take it that I have passed your test?”

So he knew, even without having to say anything. “You have,” Zayne confirms with a small smile.

“Here.” Baymax raises his fingers and curls them into a fist, waiting for Zayne to meet him halfway. Slowly, Zayne does just that, meeting the soft plush before it was pulled away and sealed with a robotic tune.

“Ba-la-la-la-lah.”

“Bah… What now?”

“We have completed our first task together. This warrants a celebratory fist bump.” Baymax returns his enclosed fist towards the confused doctor once more. “You must also say it while our fists connect.”

Not finding it in himself to disagree, Zayne repeats the actions from before and adds on with an unsure, “Ba-la-lah.” Slightly strange, though it held a tinge of endearment that reminded him of a certain someone; he suddenly didn’t mind it as much then, shaking his head to himself.

It satisfied Baymax all the same, hand wiggling away before a sound disrupts the next file to be displayed. Zayne’s phone rings then, a custom set of notes indicating there was only one special caller. Your name flashed on his screen, buzzing in patience as his gaze flicked between that and Baymax.

“Do you mind if I take this?”

Baymax blinks. “I do not mind.”

“Thank you.”

With a swipe, Zayne presses his phone to the cup of his ear, voice softening to answer your call. “Good morning. Are you heading out now?”

“Morning! How did you know?” 

Zayne could make out the rustling of keys with the pattern of your footsteps, a light yet amused scoff from him trickling into the receiver. Even if it weren’t for the traces of noise, you usually left around this time and always texted him a new emoji without missing a day, so of course he knew. You followed up almost immediately with another answer to support your stance. 

“New mission just came in, and it happens to be near Akso, so we’ll be seeing each other again pretty soon.”

“Oh?” His brow quirks at the idea. “What requires you to be in the area, exactly?” Zayne’s hazel hues instinctively settle on the black pools of Baymax’s blink, already knowing the answer that you proceeded to relay.

“There was a… Wanderer sighted?” Even over the phone, your voice relayed doubt amidst a warm crackling sound. “Well it’s not exactly one…allegedly. But rather something big, round and white? Tara said it looked like a walking marshmallow,” you chuckled. Well, it’s not like you were wrong, Zayne confirms with another glance. “Either way, it’s caused an uproar and the Association is sending me to check it out. I’m assuming you already know what it is?”

“I do.” Baymax tilts his head, pointing a finger to himself in quiet curiosity. Zayne raises his own to his mouth, indicating for a secret to be kept as he muses into the call. “And no, not a Wanderer. Stop by my office when you get here and you’ll see.”

“I’ll be there in 15 if traffic is kind to me,” you chirped in reply. He could make out the humming of your motorcycle come to life, indicating the start of your journey. “See you then! Love you.”

“Alright. Love you too. Be safe.”

As the call came to an end, Zayne shifted his gaze to the even shiftier companion before him. Though Baymax couldn’t necessarily smile, the doctor could feel it radiating off of its plush form as he lifted a familiar finger.

“Your pulse and heart rate have quickened greatly. The rate went from 87 beats per minute to 102 in about ten seconds.” Baymax pauses, and a screen with infographics begins to luminate across his chest once more. “Symptoms may include, but are not limited to, your pituitary glands—“

“I’m aware of how hearts work.” Zayne gestures around to their environment, the glimmer of his name tag reflecting the morning sun filtering through the tall windows. “And… everything else.”

He was a cardiac surgeon, first and foremost. His efforts and contributions have earned him plenty of accolades in the field, a testament to his brilliance and especially at a younger age in comparison to his medical peers. But second to none was he also your partner—naturally, his heart would’ve soared regardless. He was aware of the source of his increased palpitations.

“You are also smiling,” Baymax comments. “Does this person make you happy?”

Zayne freezes then, unbeknownst of how the edges of his lips were curled into a gentle grin. His lips almost straighten then, fingertips brushing over them in thought. He lets out a resounding hum in confirmation, looking away bashfully for a brief moment. “Very much so.”

“That is good. Having someone who makes you ‘happy’ will improve your quality of life.” As if sending him his seal of approval, Baymax gives an affirmative fist of encouragement. No sooner did a wrapped lollipop appear between said fist, and he held it towards Zayne in offering. “Here, have a lollipop.”

“Thank you.” Zayne takes the candy in acceptance, wrapper crinkling in removal before a taste of winterberry spreads across his tongue. “Shall we go through another file until a certain someone comes barging in?”

He could already imagine how your grand entrance would play out, and this time, knowingly smiles to himself at the thought.

With an enthusiastic nod, Baymax takes a nearby chair and places it beside Zayne’s own. Deflating slightly to fit the mold, he puffs up once more in preparation.

“I am ready. Let’s work together, Dr. Zayne.”

[adrisqueaks]

crushing with hyunjin !

content. stray kids hyunjin, gn!reader, headcanons — fluff.

warning. none

wordcount. 580

a/n. as requested ♡ here's the continuation of the crushing series! hyune's turn. tell me who you would like to read about next in this series :o)

WOULD HE CRUSH FIRST ?

probably, yes! we all know how fond of the concept and idea of romance hyunjin is. he definitely is the type to romanticize every interaction you both have from the very moment he meets you. he might take a while to come around to talk to you one on one and develop both real interest and attraction because of how shy he is. but there is no doubt that he would be the first out of you two to form a real crush. he is a bit embarrassed to admit it to himself at first, but he will get around to it. just give him a few days.

HOW HE WOULD ACT.

hyunjin is quite good at concealing his feelings. you would not be able to tell that he is treating you in a way slightly different than he does other people. hyunjin however, is hyper aware of the little attentions he gives you. would it be the way he is always listening to you in a group setting over any other person talking at the same time or how he remembers every single story you have ever told him despite his forgetfulness, it flies right over your head. but, hyunjin very well knows why he is acting this way.

having a crush drives him insane. hyunjin would stay up at night, wondering whether his feelings were mutual. he would recount the time you spent together that same day and ponder whether the way you smiled at him after he told that one joke was any different than the one you gave to felix.

WOULD HE MAKE THE FIRST MOVE ?

yes, hyunjin would. but only if he was certain that you liked him back. after a while and talking it over with his friends ( mostly changbin and jisung ), hyunjin would come to the conclusion that you liked him at least as much as he liked you. of course, he would never be 100% sure but there would be signs. it was mostly the way you always somehow ended up just the two of you when going out with friends that comforted him in the idea that his crush might be mutual. and so, he would ask you out.

if it turned out that he felt like you did not like him back however, hyunjin would never confess and neither would he ever try anything. hyunjin would rather save you the discomfort of having to reject him and save himself the shame that came with it.

MISCELLANEOUS

when he has a crush, hyunjin cannot stop talking about it to his friends. of course, he would not jump to it the moment he meets someone he could be interested in but rather waits to feel any kind of real-ish feelings to let everyone know about them. hyunjin might ask for advice or people's opinions on the things he noticed about you and the blossoming frendship you were building.

hyunjin mopes around when he ends up overthinking and convincing himself that you would never like him the same way. crushes are serious to him, he is not the type to like multiple people at the same time. instead, he would devote his attention to one person at a time. he might also be a bit jealous, but would actively work against it.

taglist. @aeinzzzketchup @hyunverse — let me know if you would like to be added / removed.

© myjisung. please do not copy, translate, repost or claim my work as your own.

[adrisqueaks]

Thanks, I’m almost crying

I NEED some angst+comfort with Zayne PLEASE. It could be anything, the reader being run over in front of him, him being stressed about work and being mean to the reader... Literally anything

This was my first request, so thank you so much! I started this last night with a cup of tea and an "I'm sure I can manage some angst for Zayne, why not?" sort of attitude, and it culminated with me evil laughing to myself at 3am. Enjoy I guess? 😭

Reserved

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You've been looking forward to this dinner with Zayne for a week, but it seems he has other priorities.

Genre: angst, SO MUCH angst (but sshhhh... we save it with some comfort... 👀)

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, fluff, uses of y/n, reader is feeling neglected, Zayne gets a tiny bit mean

| Word count: 1.2k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Zayne… c’mon. Let’s go.”

You feel like a child, whining for what feels like the hundredth time in the last half hour, but you’ve little else left to do. You’re perched on Zayne’s desk, having long ago lost respect for the sanctity of his workspace, and you pout as you stare down at the phone in your palm. The screen is lit up by a reminder you’d set a week ago: Reservation. The Cerulean. 8 o’clock.

It’s 8:25, and you’ve snoozed it five times already— each time more pointedly than the last.

“Just a minute,” Zayne mumbles.

“You said that an hour ago!”

The man hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t look up from his computer. His face is bathed in the ghoulish light of the screen, his glasses shining as he dips his head— just a fraction— to glance at the paperwork spread before him. You give him his minute: let second after second tick by, though you mark each one with an idle tap on the desk’s cold surface.

A murmur: “Stop that, please.” His patience is thinning too.

You’re feeling petty, because you’ve been listening to the patter of his keyboard forever and it’s driving you insane. You purse your lips and tap louder. One second. Tap. Two seconds. Tap. Three. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Stop it.” Zayne’s hand catches yours, his grip soft, but his face stern.

And he still won’t look at you.

He releases your hand, and his dutiful fingers are back to their post, pattering away. With a huff, you come away from his desk, stalking past him to the window, where you fold your arms and study the barren street below. The view is obscured by the dark and the drops of rain that carve hazy trails down the glass. You can just about make out a couple, emerging from the hospital’s entrance. No uniforms. A patient and their other half, and they’re leaning on each-other— no— pushing each-other, competing for the cover of an umbrella that’s much too small. They’re laughing, you think.

Your chest aches.

“Zayne,” you press.

His chair rolls back, wheels harsh on the floor, and he’s standing, logging out of his computer with a final, few clacks. “I’m done,” he snaps, but his tone says otherwise. He tugs his coat from the back of his chair. “We can go.”

…

You sit on the edge of the wet pavement, rain seeping from your hair and soaking the fabric of your clothes. You should be cold, but you’re not. You’re nothing. Your eyes are cast downwards and all you see is grey, though it’s illuminated by an orange glow.

Behind you, light bleeds through the windows of a busy restaurant. Zayne is still in there, playing diplomat. Playing doctor: always trying to fix things.

Your phone buzzes, and you slip it from its home in your coat pocket. There’s a message: having fun? Then another: ur welcome, miss bodyguard.

Rafayel. He knows a guy who knows the guy who owns this place, so you’d called in a favour. You and Zayne had been drowning in work for a week: him, overwhelmed by new patients at the hospital, and you, out hunting the wanderers that had put them there. Linkon is getting worse. Everything is getting worse, and you just wanted one, single night for yourself.

Well, not just yourself.

The monotonous drum of the rain breaks to the creak of an opening door, but you don’t react. “Y/N?” Zayne sounds far away. “Where did you— Y/N!?”

Footsteps echo on the pavement behind you, splitting puddles, and the orange light is gone. You’re trapped by a shadow that’s talking, speaking your name, but you pretend you can’t hear it. Let him say it a hundred times. A thousand; you can wait.

“Just a minute,” you lilt, your voice dripping spite.

You’re going to sit here for an hour.

“Y/N…” The doctor is oh so patient. “Please get up. You’ll catch a cold if you—”

“Good!” you spit, rounding on him. “Then why don’t I check myself into the hospital? Maybe then you’ll actually think about me once in a while!”

Zayne is towering over you: a small, wet, pathetic little thing, but you still make him draw back. His virescent eyes are wide, his lips parted ever so slightly. He almost always knows what to say, but this is an exception.

After a long moment, he moves around you. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit at your side.

“Do you have any idea,” you start, staring out across the slick road, “how selfish you make me feel? How much I hate myself when I… when I ask you to…”

The confession catches in your throat. It hurts, but you force it out anyway:

“What you do is so important, Zayne. You’re saving lives. You’re giving people back to their families, their loved ones, and you’re amazing for that. I think you’re amazing for that. But I miss you. It feels like I have to share you with the rest of the world, and I know I have no right to ask it, but sometimes? Sometimes I just… want you to be mine.”

You’re looking down, now. Hugging your knees— burying your face, so he won’t see you cry. There’s rain and salt in your mouth, and you wish he would say something. Anything. 

You have to wait a few seconds, but then you feel it: something heavy being draped over your shoulders. His coat. Then his arm is around you, drawing you close, closer, until you’re nestled against his chest.

“You have every right to ask,” he soothes, his tone so warm when it’s compensating for the rest of him. “I am yours, Y/N. I will always be yours.”

“But your work—”

“Can wait,” he finishes for you. “I know I forget that sometimes. And I’m sorry. But you?”

He lifts your chin, gazing down at you with something you can only describe as adoration.

“There is nothing in this world more important to me than you.”

Your heart flutters at the words and the feathery touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away a tear. It’s futile in a downpour, but it still makes you smile. Rain is spattering on your forehead, some dripping from his now-soaked hair, and you laugh as he tries to dry your face with his sleeve.

“You’re important to me, too,” you manage between chuckles, “and I’m sorry, too.” Your cheeks are flushed, even in the cold. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“No.” A statement: not up for debate. Zayne untangles your limbs from his as he helps you stand. “We have a reservation.”

“We had a reservation. They gave away our table, Zayne.”

“Did they?”

There’s a hint of smugness. “Wait… what did you—”

He nods at the restaurant, and you follow his glistening gaze to where a waiter is holding the door— a menu clutched above his head, shielding him from the rain. He’s looking back at you. Waiting.

“Rafayel isn’t the only one with friends in high places,” Zayne smiles, leaning down to speak into your ear, and it makes you shiver. “The head chef is a friend of mine. I saved his brother’s life, you know.”

[adrisqueaks]

This is so incredibly well done 😍. Thank you author!!!

Hey, a fluff scenario for cuddling with Rafayel? Thank you 🐡✨

This one really got away from me ahaha, whoops. There's also a moment where my fine art degree really leaps out, so look forward to that, everyone. My first time writing for Raf - thank you anon!!

Perspective

Rafayel x Reader 🎨

Summary: You've spent two hours preparing a meal for Rafayel, and he has absolutely no intention of sitting down to it.

Genre: fluff fluff FLUFF!

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, cuddling, kisses, lots of intimacy tbh (soft, not spicy!)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Thirty minutes. You and Thomas had spent thirty minutes on the phone trying to figure out where your boyfriend actually was. Half an hour of he’s not with you? and no, I thought he was with you!— back and forth, like a metronome, and it wasn’t exactly the first time, either.

You’re seasoned investigators at this point: called constantly out of retirement for one last job you swear you’re too old for, and yet you know is never going to really be the last. You’ve already got matching t-shirts printed for the tortured agent’s next birthday: ‘Special Unit: Find Rafayel.’ (He won’t find it half as funny as you do.)

Neither of you had heard from the artist since Tuesday, and— it being Friday— he was either in his studio, painting, or definitely dead. It fell within your jurisdiction to find out, so you’d driven here two hours ago, texting Thomas upon arriving:

He's alive!! 🥳🥳🥳

You’re less excited about it now.

Stood at Rafayel’s kitchen island, you lay out the last of the buffet you’ve prepared to try to entice him away from his art. It’s worked in the past: has seen him sniff the air and follow his stomach to whatever you were cooking, like a stubborn stray cat.

“C’mon, Raf,” you call out, because he’s not taking the bait. “Food’s getting cold.”

“Not hungry!”

Your fists ball around the cutlery you’re setting down on the marble; he’s not eaten for three days. You glance up at him across the open space of his home, taking a deep breath through your nose as you watch him scrawl away at his painting. Somewhere in your mind, Thomas is speaking. This is what you signed up for, remember?

Reluctantly, you cross between the rooms, folding your arms as you come up behind Rafayel. “Raf,” you insist again, “come and sit down. Please? You need to eat something.”

“I’m fiiiiiine.” His paintbrush drags viridian over the lower third of his piece.

“You’re not fine,” you huff, and he doesn’t respond. “Rafayel.”

“Rafayel?” he mimics with a chuckle. “You’re mad.”

He’s ‘Rafayel’ in only two types of circumstance: when he’s making you really, really happy, or he’s making you consider the career-leap between bodyguard and assassin. It’s an extraordinarily thin line, and he just loves walking the tightrope.

“I’m not mad, just worried. Can’t you come eat with me? Your painting isn’t going anywhere.”

“It’s not,” he agrees, smoothing out a stroke of paint, “but what about my inspiration?”

“That’ll be waiting for you, too.”

“You think?” His lips curve as he pensively pokes at them with the wooden end of his brush. “I guess you did spend a lot of time cooking, huh? And if you’re really that worried, then…” He spins around with wide eyes. An epiphany. “Feed it to me?”

You stare back, unmoved by the puppy-like expression. He looks cute, yeah, but you’re not falling for it again. This is exactly how he looked earlier, when you’d convinced him to at least accept a glass of water. You’d almost drowned him in your subsequent efforts to actually get it down his throat.

Rafayel mixes three colours on his palette as you relive the ordeal. Like the once-white of his shirt, it’s awash with vibrant greens and blues, some fresh, some days-old. He pauses when he’s done, but you can tell he’s itching to get back to the canvas. “Give me, like… half an hour?” he estimates. The number’s been plucked from thin air. “The food’s gonna be delicious, even if it’s cold. You made it!”

“Raf, I—”

“And how can I even enjoy it if I’m racing to get back here? I wanna savour it, y’know? And anyway…” he trails off, his attention drawn by something above.

“Yeah?” you prompt, glancing upwards. There’s nothing there.

His gaze snaps back. “Sorry, the ceiling was doing something weird. But yeah, anyway, it’s not like you have to— I mean, it’s not like I’m going to— wait. What were we talking about again?”

Not much surprises you these days, but your mouth is still agape. Enough is enough. “Put the paintbrush down. You’re done.”

He nonchalantly returns to the painting. “I’m really not, though.”

You narrow your eyes. Reassess. “You were right about the ceiling.”

“Yeah?” He looks up.

You snatch the paintbrush. “Ha!”

He blinks blankly at you and your eagerly-clutched trophy, unfazed by the moment of triumph. “Cute trick,” he shrugs. He runs a finger across the palette and applies the new colour to the painting with a quick sweep. “What’s next, Miss Bodyguard? You gonna cut off my ha— ow, ow, ow! Hey! Take it easy!”

You’re pinching his ear, dragging him wordlessly to the kitchen, because you're out of things to say.

“Fine. Fine!” he groans as he tries to keep up with you. You release him and he straightens, his face pink, but not as pink as his ear. “You win! Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

You stop dead in your tracks, then turn with a look so cold he couldn’t melt it with all of his fire.

“I mean— ahaha,” he laughs nervously, rubbing his neck. “It smells amazing, cutie. You’re amazing. I can’t wait.”

…

Rafayel sits back on his stool, still staring at his painting. The mood is different from earlier. There’s no more restlessness or impatience; he isn’t in a rush. He’s humming a soft song you’re almost certain you’ve heard before, but you can’t quite place the melody. It’s pretty, though: the sort of tune one might recall from a childhood music box, or maybe even a dream.

There’s a clink as you stack two finished plates. Then another. And another.

“Don’t,” Rafayel says quietly, catching your hand before you can collect the plate nearest to him. “I’ll do it later— promise. Sit with me?”

You were never going to say no, but his hands are on your hips before you can say yes, and he’s turning you gently— pulling you up onto his lap. You smile as his arms wrap around you, keeping you from slipping, and he’s warm as you relax back against him.

“What do you think?” he asks, staring out over your shoulder.

Your gaze follows his to the painting, still waiting for him. “It’s okay.”

“Oh yeah?” You can feel him chuckle before it reaches your ears.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a smile, shifting to face him as much as you can. “Kinda pales in comparison to my favourite masterpiece. This one,” you poke two fingers to his chest. “Right… about—” they walk higher, “—here!”

You boop his nose and he immediately scoffs, his face going red. “Sheesh,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eyes. “That was lame.”

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not!”

He squirms as you laugh and try to touch his cheeks; they’re going to feel hot, and he’s a sore loser. His hands don’t manage to capture yours, so they settle for finding your hips again, swivelling you around until you’re trapped by his embrace. You’re both one misjudged move away from toppling to the floor, so you let him keep his victory. What’s left of his dignity, too.  

Your laughter rescinds like a tide, but the quiet is far from empty.

“C’mon,” Raf tries again. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, nudging your head, urging you to look forward. His hair is feather-soft on your skin, and he peppers chaste kisses along the line of your jaw. “Tell me. What do you see?”  

You hum contentedly. “A painting.” You’re not thinking about it at all; your eyes are closed.

“And?”

“A plant. A sofa. Some curtains,” you recall.

“You know what I meant,” he grins against you.

You lean back with a sigh, no longer supporting your own weight, but sinking into him with trust and begrudging compliance. It’s not bad, as surrenders go. He gives you a squeeze of encouragement and your head rolls back, stopping at his shoulder. His breath is skirting over your cheek, just barely.

You open your eyes and really look at the painting.

“It’s beautiful, Raf,” you murmur. It is; it was always going to be. “Everything you do is beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, “I know.” But he wants more. “Does it make you think of something, maybe? Anything?”

There’s no right or specific answer. This isn’t remotely your field of expertise, and you’re oceans apart sometimes, so he has to outstretch a hand. Two viewpoints. Two sides of a coin; you never should have seen each-other.

Your life is hunting monsters, and his is finding beauty in a world where they exist. It’s not what you see, it’s how you see it. Crimson to him is a sunset; to you it’s blood.  

Something in you aches as your eyes roam over his latest work. He won’t tell you what it’s meant to be, not really: that’s a private understanding between him and the canvas, his heart and every stroke of paint. Does it make you think of something? Though the marks are fixed, they’re somehow fluid. The emerald tones are marred by shadows, as though something’s lurking beneath the surface, but there are traces of white, too. Light: shimmering.

“Reflections,” you finally answer. “Scattered to anonymity by a now turbulent lake. They belonged to something else, once, but they’ve taken a new shape— a restless and ever-changing identity— and no-one knows what it is, let alone what it was.”

With a satisfied smile, you close your eyes. That ought to keep him quiet for a minute.

Sure enough, Rafayel is silent. You don’t have to see his crystalline eyes to know they’re set on the painting, soaking it in with a new perspective. His favourite perspective: yours.

You have never been strangers to each-other. Two sides of a coin are still the same coin.

With a light laugh of surprise, he plants a kiss on your shoulder. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me.” He’s nuzzling into you again. “I know I can be—”

“A pain in the ass?”

He laughs louder. “I was gonna say eccentric.”

“Oh…” You draw air through your teeth. “Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

Your voice is humourless, your face plain. It lasts all of two seconds, and then the charade is falling to pieces; he’s nibbling at your ear, your neck, and it tickles mercilessly. You giggle, but you don’t try to escape. The punishment fits the crime, and who are you to deny him his justice?

You’re quickly running out of breath, so Rafayel ceases his assault, letting you get it back. “Can I look at you now?” you ask.

He clicks his tongue. “I’ll allow it.”

You shift and he lifts you a little— helping you twist around to face him. He smiles fondly as he links his hands behind you, stopping you from falling as you lean back to enjoy the view. It’s the best kind of smile: one that reaches his eyes and makes them sparkle, like the water in the painting, but infinitely more pretty.

You want to feel that smile on your lips, so you lean in and kiss him.

It’s tender and perfect and when you’re done, you snuggle closer, wrapping your arms around him and nestling like you’ll be staying there for a while. You can hear his heart, and though a part of it is in his painting, the rest is with you. Always with you.

“Shouldn’t you get back to your work?” you ask as you think of it, smiling into his shirt. He won’t— not tonight.

“Nah,” he says, running his fingers through your hair. “It can wait.”

[adrisqueaks]

This is so sweet 😭😭😭

rafayel: an artist's nails

+ summary: It’s been a while since your last nail endeavor, and you seek out your creative lover to fill in the missing details once again.

+ tags: established relationship, fluff, silly rafayel, kisses, light banter, one shot, gender neutral reader

+ word count: 1048

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

“Again?” He looks down at you from the impressive height of his ladder, palette and brush paused in mid motion. The canvas stretching his wall had streaks of pale blue, contrasting the rich sapphire that lay underneath them. Another masterpiece in the making, and you’ve caught him at a somewhat opportune time to air out your proposal.

“Please? I promise it’ll be the last time!” You gave him your best pout, hands clasped together in a pseudo prayer.

“That’s what you said two weeks ago, my love.” Rafayel shakes his head.

“Ra—fa—yel!” You called out, purposefully stringing his vowels in a way that he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to.

“Okay, okay. Give me a moment, yeah?”

Leaving his instruments behind, he descends from the perch of his ladder. Dusting off his hands on the edge of his slacks, he straightens his posture towards you with a few strides. Arms crossed over his chest, the warmth of coral and cooled blue examined your presence up close. “You don’t seem injured. Mission went well?”

“It did! But that’s not what I’m here for.” You flash your hands towards him, wiggling the tips of your fingers for dramatic effect. “Look at how much they’ve grown! They’re begging for a new design, and only one curated by Linkon City’s best painter could do the job.”

The bed of coral acrylic was slowly pushing past your natural nail, unflattering to the eye and no longer holding the fresh sheen it once had. It was long overdue for a retouch, and you trusted your boyfriend’s talented eye to decorate your fingers once more.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he half-heartedly remarks, but takes your hands into his own regardless. His fine fingers delicately trace over the rounded edges of your acrylics, tilting them alongside his head to capture their finish in the warm lighting of his art studio. “Hm… They are longer than before, I’ll give you that.”

An internal score in your mind was being kept, and you just landed your first point. “Exactly. So, I was thinking for the next design—“

“Woah, excuse you.” His fingers intertwined with yours, passing his warmth into your palms. He tugs you closer, hands closed like the prayer you presented just moments ago. Rafayel quirks a brow as he continues.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

You paused, a blink of confusion crossing your face. “…Am I?”

The plush of his lips puff out like a fish, awaiting your realization. Ah. You had to pay the kiss toll first—how could you forget?

You met his pout halfway, lightly pressing a kiss to pay your dues forward. Rafayel quickly chases your leaning figure, peppering a second, and then a third, to the lips curling into a faint smile at his antics and he mirrored yours all the same.

“Okay—Raf—Mm!”

He swallowed your interruptions with ones of his own, a barrage of straight smooches fluttering over your mouth. Only after the nth kiss did he finally part, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles with a hum in satisfaction.

“Payment accepted.” Rafayel lowered your hands, only to gently tug them in the direction of his desk.

Pieces of sketch paper and paints, pencils and more laid across the surface as you approached. He lets go momentarily, pulling out a chair and swiping away some tabletop space, before patting on the cushion in invitation.

“Alright, why don’t we start sketching out your ideas, yeah? Let’s see if we can make this new set better than the last.”

…

No sooner than a week later did you return to Mo Art Studio, feeling particularly energized as you practically skipped into his living space.

“Ah, you’re back.”

Rafayel called out to you before you had the chance to speak, swiping another shade of cerulean over the canvas. He looks over his shoulder, eyes twinkling at your appearance and brow upturned in curiosity. “You seem like you’re in a good mood. Did you get them done today?”

You nodded, waving him down with an equally bright expression. “Take a break! I want you to admire your masterpiece.” With an outstretched hand, you await his descending figure in a similar sense of deja vu.

“Yeah? You’re already here though,” Rafayel teases, taking hold of your invitation in turn. “But alrighty. Let’s go.”

Natural habits led your bodies to walk past the floor to ceiling entrance and into the sands hugging his estate. Seagulls chirp overhead as the fragrance of salty seas sting your nose, welcoming in the warmth of sunshine and ocean views all around.

“Maybe the crab from last week is still around,” you mention. “I think it was this way—Ah!”

Rafayel snickers at your enthusiasm, but paused you short of your wandering in an effort to pull you closer to him. He raises your combined hands outwards, turning them in every direction as he observes the new design.

Speckles of pale white and faint pink hugged the tip of your nail, pearly effects blending into the azure gradient that filled the rest of the space. Light traces of a circle or two resemble bubbles, a key seashell charm on your pinky finger and an exclusive Lemurian insignia resembling the bond over his heart were all littered across the set.

He nods in approval, and you could practically see the sharp rise of his shoulders in pride as he spoke. “Ah, they turned out really good this time. I wonder whooo designed them.”

You lean into his playful stance, pressing a kiss to his cheek and watching as his skin flushes in an adoring rouge. “Thank you, my love. Next time, we should do your nails too!”

“Yeah? I don’t know if I want to have another pot with steam drawn by you again,” he retorts, laughing as you lightly pushed his shoulder.

You raised your voice in self-defense, offering him a scolding glare. “Hey! I told you it was a steamed fish. Steamed fish! You of all people should know that well!”

Your voices faded away as you left your footsteps in the sand, the low tides pushing to support the harmony of your banter as the sun slowly settled. Safe to say, you wouldn’t be letting go of these nails blessed by the ocean anytime soon.

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

a/n: hi hi, thank you for reading this far! eek this is my first time posting like this to tumblr, i'm not too familiar with it so please forgive me for any mistakes (⸝⸝⸝- ᴗ -⸝⸝⸝ ;) i hope my short but sweet little headcanon does rafmc some justice! the idea came to me randomly while angst writing (hhhh) so here we are c:

[adrisqueaks]

Luke and Kieran are child of divorce! They would totally make full fledged plans to bring them together again 😂

When MC gets mad at Sylus, she threatens to leave and take the kids with her, the kids being Luke and Kieran.

[adrisqueaks]

Rafayel Gets A Cat...? Pt. 1 [Rafayel x Cat!Reader]

Oh, dear lord, this was Rafayel's biggest nightmare. It wasn't that MC cheated on him with their stupid teammate, or that stick-up-his-ass doctor, or even that criminal! This was the worst possible scenario. MC turned into a cat—not a cat-hybrid where Rafayel could ignore the ears and tail, but a fully fledged cat. MC had turn into a tiny cat, who barely even reached Rafayel's shin. Rafayel was currently hiding behind his couch, trembling as he thought about all the people he has wronged in his life, all the seafood that he's eaten that could've been his enemy's beloved pet or a loved one. What could Rafayel have done for his beloved bodyguard to become a wretched cat?!

Meow! Rafayel instinctually shuttered as he heard that ear grating meow come out of that thing's mouth, grabbing a paintbrush and pointing it at Cat!MC as though they were a wanderer — an enemy. "G-get away, you... you're not my bodyguard anymore, you're a beast! Don't get any closer!"

It was still unclear as to why Rafayel was utterly terrified when it came to cats, but for a Lemurian as strong as Rafayel, it must have been horrifying.

Cat!Mc, still being MC, just in a cat body, decided that this was the perfect time to toy with Rafayel. It was going to be revenge for all those times where Rafayel ordered them around to do meaningless tasks that wouldn't even benefit Rafayel at the crack ass of dawn, all the way to dusk. Cat!Mc took a couple backward steps, keeping eye-contact with Rafayel, who also backed up to keep his distance away from the cat, but his heart sank when his back hit the wall of the studio,. He began trying to reason with Cat!MC, pathetically, might I add.

"B-bodyguard, come on now.. let's try to be civil... you're still my bodyguard in that ugly cat bo— AH!" The mighty Lemurian's anguished cries echoed through the studio.

Cat!MC had a smug look on their cat face as they pounced on Rafayel, making to purr extra loud, rubbing their cute little face all over Rafayel's neck, chest, and face. This was torture for Rafayel, he immediately collapsed, his fell onto the floor with his eyes completely clenched shut, seemingly accepting death right at this instance.

This was torture for Rafayel, he immediately collapsed, his fell onto the floor with his eyes completely clenched shut, seemingly accepting death right at this instance. Rafayel was praying to whatever Lemurian Deity was out there right now to save him from his beloved cat-turned bodyguard, a way out, anything. He truly thought he was being punished for whatever sins he has committed thoughout his entire lifetime. Rafayel started begging underneath his breath for forgiveness, "Please, please, please, please, please. I'm sorry, I just want my bodyguard back." By this point, Rafayel's been rambling about how sorry he was and how much his bodyguard meant to him for a whole hour, his eyes all teary, thinking that it would always be like this. His beloved bodyguard... a cat. Cat!MC's cute little ears dropped as they noticed that their joke wasn't a joke to Rafayel. Even though they both did not know how to turn MC back to normal, Cat!MC felt bad for the fact that they taunted Rafayel in the first place, knowing his aversion to cats. Cat!MC stopped purring loudly, giving Rafayel one last lick on the cheek as an apology before settling down in Rafayel's lap, letting out a tiny meow as an apology as they curled up into a small ball. Rafayel stopped trembling after awhile, trying to come to terms that if he couldn't figure out a solution to all of this, his beloved would forever be a cat. He didn't know what to do. Rafayel didn't know what to think. This was still his bodyguard after all, the one who he cherishes the most. With a trembling arm, Rafayel reached out and he tried to push down his fears, petting Cat!MC's tiny head, letting out a small murmur, his voice was unsteady, he was reminding himself again and again that this was still his bodyguard. "L-let's... go get you some tuna, bodyguard." Cat!MC nuzzled their head against Rafayel's hand, happy that Rafayel still loved them, even in the form of Rafayel's greatest fear; a cat.

A/N: A multi-part Rafayel series in the makings. Not proofread. This is just self-indulgent and silly. If you like otome games, including Love and Deepspace, you should join Linkon Lounge! A discord server that's LGBTQ+ friendly (only serving those who are 18+) where we all can share our interests, talk to roleplaying bots (Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, and Sylus), and have fun game, movie, and stream nights where we stream games and/or cards that we pulled that others want to see. It would be super fun to have you as a member of our server. Click here to join Linkon Lounge!

Masterlist

[adrisqueaks]

Rafayel is so dramatic, I love him

“We Still On For Tomorrow?”

LADS Men responding to “We still on for tomorrow” and plot twist it’s your wedding day.

Zayne

MC: We still hanging out tomorrow?

Zayne: Hanging out?

MC: yea you know meeting up

Zayne: Ah I see this is one of your little pranks yes we’re still “hanging out” tomorrow

MC: Okay what are you wearing?

Zayne: A navy blue suit

MC: ooouu fancy should i wear a dress?

Zayne: Yes preferably white

MC: I’ll look like somebody’s bride

Zayne: My beautiful bride

Rafayel

MC: We still on for tomorrow?

Rafayel: Are we? 🤨

MC: Don’t answer my question with a question

Rafayel: Is this a trick question? Are you going to be a runaway bride? I will scream moan and throw up

MC: I’ll be there you drama king calm down

Rafayel: What are the signs of a heart attack?

MC: You’re not having a heart attack

Rafayel: Maybe it’s organ failure

MC: oh yeah? Which organ?

Rafayel: All of em’

Xavier

MC: We still hanging out tomorrow?

Xavier: Are you playing another trick on me? Are you getting cold feet?

MC: I’m asking you a simple question

Xavier: I’m worried

MC: Yes or no?

Xavier: Are you mad at me because I ripped your Astro Penguin plushie?

MC: You what….

Xavier: Yes we’re still hanging out I’ll be the handsome guy in the white suit waiting for my gorgeous breathtaking understanding bride

Sylus

MC: We still on for tomorrow?

Sylus:No I have to make a rain check sorry sweetie

MC: the fuck?

Sylus: Urgent meeting for a rare protocore

MC: A protocore is more important than our WEDDING???

Sylus: Nothing is more important than you

MC: ….

Sylus: Your little tricks aren’t so funny when they’re directed at you huh?

MC: I was about to start crying….

Sylus: We still on for tomorrow?

MC: …..yes

[adrisqueaks]

This man 😭

My head’s full of domestic life with Zayne, especially husband!Zayne who would be the sweetest, most attentive husband ever.

Husband!Zayne who’d pack you lunch for work if his schedule allows (which is almost never, but he makes time anyway). Despite your protests, telling him that he’s already got too much on his plate, he’d still hand you a bag full of healthy snacks for you to bring to work if he can’t cook, anyway.

Husband!Zayne who slides you a plate of freshly sliced fruit as you work on things at home, before joining you, himself. You’d feed each other some as he peels you oranges and apples.

Husband!Zayne who makes time to pick you up from work to drive or walk you home. Often, he has your favorite fruit slushie in hand. But he always has a fresh boquet of your favorite flowers in hand.

Husband!Zayne who makes you hot tea and a hot pack for when your period comes. He’d help you through excruciating bouts of cramps and wouldn’t hesitate to take a day off from his job if you said so. He also has a stash of sweets reserved especially for this week, knowing full well how your cravings for sweets increase tenfold.

Husband!Zayne who lets you know that he doesn’t mind not having children when you both find out that you could not bear children or that you would have a higher risk than normal of dying during childbirth. He would love you all the same, and would even be open to adopting (child or pet, he’ll love them just the same, because he’s raising them with you).

Just Husband!Zayne who makes you feel loved each and every day. Who’d support you through every stage of your life as your closest friend, confidant, and partner.

[adrisqueaks]

When You're Sick- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

genre: fluff fluff

a/n: only wrote this because i was sick for a couple of days heh (':

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

You two were on a mission together but you noticed as the day goes by your movement has become weaker and slower. Xavier also notices that and asks if you were okay but you reassured him you were okay and brushed it off. As you both finished the mission, your headache was increasingly getting worse and your vision felt blurry. The last thing you saw was Xavier running up to you before your eyes fluttered shut.

He would carry you home and is extremely worried about your health. He just doesn't want to lose you even if it could be the smallest thing.

You would wake up to this man checking your temperature and constantly making sure you're comfortable. He would be fluffing your pillows and making sure you have plenty of blankets.

He would have accidentally bought too much medicine because he didn't know what sickness you had. His search history would be filled with how to make you feel better or what to get you.

If you were tired of being in your bed, he would carry you to the couch so you both could watch shows or movies together. He would nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck and you would freak out because you don't want to get him sick. He would reassure you and say he'll be okay.

Would have food delivered to your home so he doesn't leave your side. He would make sure the food is healthy and nutritious so you can feel better soon. He would blow the food if it was too hot and feed it to you.

Zayne:

You would cancel on him the day before your date because you felt sick and then you would find him a couple hours later outside your door with a plastic bag of medicine and goodies for you.

You knew he had work the whole night but he explained that he called off sick to take care of you. He would lecture you on being careless about your health and explain what's best to do on how to get better. He's naturally concerned when you're sick and although you can't tell from his expression, you can tell from what he does through his actions.

He would prepare you yummy and healthy meals that provide you nutrients and vitamins for a swift recovery. Would give you little praises after each bite you take and once you're finished with your food.

He would make sure that you take your daily medications and medicines. He would even give you a small treat after you take your medicine to get rid of the nasty aftertaste. He would insist on hand feeding you meals and would lecture you on how it would save your energy on recovering.

When you're sleepy, he'll place a cold washcloth on your forehead and brush any stray hairs in the way. He'll gently rub your cheek, to reassure you that he's still there while you're still asleep. Before he would change the washcloth, he would give you a kiss on the forehead before applying a new one. Since he's busy, he'll leave the medicine on the bedside table when he has to leave early in the morning. Would leave little sticky notes or put a reminder on your phone to take your medicine when he has to go back to work.

Rafayel:

He was away for a collaboration event for a couple days but you two would call and text each other to make up the missing time in person. Until you texted him that you felt sick and didn't respond for a couple hours to a day. This man was worried sick about you and he would be pacing around in his room trying to call you but it would end up right into voicemail. So when you wake up with one of the worst headaches ever, you open your phone to find many notifications all from Rafayel.

When he returns home early from the event, he'll be noticeably pouty and explain that he came back home early because he was genuinely worried something might have happened to you. You'll apologize and promise you'll make it up to him.

He would usher you back to bed and is quick to get you a drink and tuck you back in if you were cold. If you needed anything he would get it right away. He would stay close to you so he can hear you ask for anything.

Would not let you do anything other than rest. Will literally feed you with his own two hands to help you get better immediately but will playfully complain that his hand would hurt . He would get worried when you would cringe from the taste of the medicine. Lowkey worried that maybe someone is trying to assassinate you so he tries a teeny bit of your medicine and he would also cringe from it. Would try to find a better tasting medicine for you and when he doesn't, he makes sure you take a sweet treat after. He'll lowkey joke about the face you make after you take the medicine.

He would have you rest on his chest as he tells you about his trip to the event. He would get worried when you didn't respond but he looks down to see your cheek pressed against his chest and your soft snores matches the steady beat of his heart makes him relax and in awe.

Would get sick because he's all over you. Just because your sick just gives him more of a reason to be closer to you! He would get really pouty and offended if you would refuse to kiss him or give him any physical touch because you were worried he would get sick. Still would sneak kisses on your forehead or the top of your head.

Sylus:

It was the weekend and you didn't have any work. You woke up with a headache but you paid no mind to it. You tried to do your daily chores but as the minutes go by, you start to feel worse. You laid back down on your bed and pull up your phone to text Sylus but your eyes fluttered shut.

You wake up from loud noises in your home and you slowly peek out of you room with the stinging pain in your head, only to find where the noises were coming from only to find Sylus in your kitchen.

"Ah your awake. I was worried you were going to sleep the whole day." He says, putting some medicine in your cabinet. You would ask him why he came in and he would show you the keyboard smash texts you sent him before you knocked out on your bed. He also would mention that Mephisto would notice your slow movements and alerted Sylus right away. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." He apologizes that he had business to take care of but he brought medicine and other things that he think would help you feel better.

Seeing you in a weak state, he would get to work. He is observant and attentive to your body language. If you show any signs of discomfort he would be quick to soothe you and rub comforting shapes on your back whenever you feel nauseous.

He would carry you back to bed, preparing you fresh blankets, feeding you medicine and food. Would do anything and everything to ensure that you're feeling okay. He ignores your protest that he should also take a break but he continues to stay by your side when you wake up and when you fall asleep.

He would grab everything and anything you need so you don't have to lift a finger at all even if you say you can do it yourself. He just wants to make the whole process easy as possible for you.

[adrisqueaks]

Rafayel is as dramatic as ever 😂

Love and Deepspace men's reactions when they hear a little kid say he'll marry you when he grows up 🥺

ZAYNE

❄️ “In that case, we're rivals now.”

❄️ Pats the kid's head, encourages the challenge and shakes his hand in the name of healthy sportsmanship.

❄️ He will initiate mini challenges with the kid— lets see who can bring more flowers for you, who can make you laugh first..if the kid has evol Zayne even challenges the kid, saying lets see who can make a better gift for you using their evol..You'd laugh and enjoy all the love and attention.

❄️ He will also instill good habits in the kid. “You won't grow up if you don't eat green veggies. And if you don't grow up, kid, then how will you marry her?”

❄️ Its all good because deep down Zayne’s heart will always belong to you, and he knows that you will always be his.

XAVIER

⭐ To Xavier, it's adorable that the kid wants to marry you. It's only natural. Who wouldn't want to marry someone as kind, strong, loving and protective as you?

⭐ But he will also subtly assert himself and let down the kid. He'll sneak a hand around your waist and pull you closer, making sure the kid is watching as he does so.

⭐ “She’ll already be taken by the time you grow up.” He'd state, causing your cheeks to heat up at the implications.

⭐ He'll also reassure the kid by saying that the kid might find someone truly meant for him by the time he's at that age.. someone who would be a lot like you but unique in their own way, and would love the kid..just as you and Xavier love each other.

RAFAYEL

🌊 Probably rolls his eyes and acts unbothered cause..PFFFFT! It won't happen. And that's cause he.. he will..cause he will marry— ahhh! even the thought of it makes him blush.

🌊 But then he'll notice you giving a lot of attention to this kid. You'll rub the kid's head, calling him adorable and peck his cheek for anything nice he does. And Rafayel would feel the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head. He'd be very jealous..of a kid at that!

🌊 “I’m also nice, aren't I?” Rafayel would point at himself. You won't understand the sudden question but nod anyways to sate his ego. Unfortunately, that won't be enough. He'll ask you to rub his head as well cause if the kid gets your affection, then he deserves it too. You sigh but do rub his head too. You also find it ridiculous because..HE'S LITERALLY YOUR BOYFRIEND AND YOU BOTH LOVE EACH OTHER.

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