a-yciecat

[a-yciecat]

So..., this is a thing! I asked some friends, and by majority rule, Satan wins!

Heyyy, more writing! Which fic ideas would you guys like the most? I'm tagging my moots @ze-melon-lord and @grievetheliving3311

[a-yciecat]

Am I late on this

[a-yciecat]

Don't follow

[a-yciecat]

He's so stoopid I love him

[a-yciecat]

Heyyy, more writing! Which fic ideas would you guys like the most? I'm tagging my moots @ze-melon-lord and @grievetheliving3311

[a-yciecat]

I want baby in my tummy

[a-yciecat]

My Dad!Raf fic, as promised☺️

No Harm Done

cw// fem!reader(referred to as wife, mama, mother, etc), tooth rotting fluff, toy/bubble gun, some injury(soap in eyes and falling on soapy floor >:)), FLUFFFFF

wc; 1355 | proofread by the lovely @grievetheliving3311 | I'm calling the daughter Pearl bc I saw hc about Raf's first daughter being named Pearl and couldn't help myself☺️

A little girl really, absolutely, couldn't possibly do that much harm. Right? At least, that's what you assumed Rafayel must have been thinking when he gave your 5-year-old daughter a bubble gun.

You were simply sitting at the desk you had managed to cram into the bedroom, when you moved in with Rafayel. The desk was simple, wooden, not too tall, and not too short. Your laptop was propped comfortably in the rough middle of the desk, and there were various messy drawings, small paintings, and files scattered amongst the rest of your stationary. Your chair was soft, with a backrest that barely passed your head, and armrests at the perfect height. Not to mention how warm it was from the advancing dusk that infiltrated your pretty, white, curtains.

You weren't doing anything in particular, just scrolling on social media after a long day at work. You thought your husband was painting in his studio, letting your dear little gremlin run around and play. Yeah, you thought. Although, once you heard two sets of giggles, it became increasingly clear that you were wrong.

You decide to believe that Rafayel simply took a break to play with your daughter, and go back to what you were doing, when…

“Mama! Put yer hands where I can see ‘em!” The little girl bursts in with a huge grin on her face.

You can't help but smile as well, at the sight, until you see what she's holding.

It's hard to see in the dim, dusk lighting, but it looks somewhat like the weapon you use for work! Reasonably panicked, you quickly stand, and rush over to her.

“Sweetheart, where did you-” Relieved to suddenly find it isn't actually your gun, you wonder where she got a bubble gun from… Or rather, who.

“Baby, did Papa give you this?” You ask softly, tapping your index finger on the semi-hexagonal shape of bubble wands on the end of the ‘barrel’.

Pearl lets out an excited ‘mhm!’, and you can see where she previously lost one of her back teeth purely from how big she's smiling. It's kind of somber to see how fast your little girl is growing up, but, nevertheless, you have a culprit to catch.

You think for a moment…, how to scare your husband? Hmm… Aha!

“Do you wanna sneak up on Papa?” You propose, already preparing to let your little troublemaker climb onto your shoulders.

She beams, “Can we!?” Her eyes absolutely light up like the sea you swear is hidden in them.

You smile warmly, “We can,” You turn her around so you can pick her up and plop her on your shoulders.

Slowly, you stand up, a smirk playing on your lips. You secure the dear girl by gently holding her ankles, slowly creeping down the hallway. Quietly(though not quiet enough), you giggle, but Pearl playfully shushes you, and rests against the top of your head.

She holds the bubble gun so that your head acts as a stand for it. Your little shrimp giggles, gasping afterwards as if she'll shush herself.

Once you reach the end of the hallway, you hug the wall, scanning the living room-turned-art studio for your husband. You can hear the ticking of Rafayel’s analog clock, and the soft classical music he has playing.

Eventually, you find the chance to sneak up on him. Watching as he sits on a low stool to work on a smaller painting, you begin to creep forward with a big grin on your face. Slowly, once you might as well be breathing down his neck, you trail your right hand from your daughter's ankle and jolt! Rafayel’s shoulder with it.

“Hands up, Papa!” Your baby girl giggles.

Thinking nothing could happen, little Pearl pulls the trigger of her toy… just as her father yelps and turns around to face you…

“Oh! Raf, are you okay!?” You quickly, and gently, place the new culprit on the nearby couch.

You hurry back over to your husband, but…, you underestimate how slippery your daughter's earlier playtime has made the floor. You slip, clattering to your butt, right next to where Rafayel is wincing on his knees.

You can't hold back your laughter, but Pearl breaks first. She's giggling and writhing on the couch, while you and Rafayel begin to double over in laughter instead of pain. You're pretty sure the soap bubbles are making his eyes water, and despite the sting, and the soapy-salty tears on his cheeks, it's obvious his two guppies are his favorite people in the world. But you do have a mess or two to clean now…

Your daughter gasps loudly, “Mama! Papa! It got painted!”

The two of you look over in confusion, laughing when you see the tiny bit of paint that got on the toy. You look back at each other and your hand reaches out to brush some bubbles away from Rafayel's cheeks.

“Thank you, Treasure,” He smiles.

You had always liked the nickname. Though he wasn’t a pirate or anything, being the God of the Sea was close enough for you.

With a content sigh, you plant a chaste kiss to your husband’s lips, sneakily ruffling his perfect hair, “Let’s get all this cleaned up, yeah?”

You help Rafayel to his feet, moving to snatch your daughter up onto your hip. You guide Rafayel to the bathroom, letting him wash his eyes as you wander to the kitchen to take care of Pearl’s dilemma.

Kissing her forehead, you set the small girl down on the counter beside the sink. You start humming a soft tune, the one you always hum to help your mischievous guppies fall asleep. You turn on the faucet. She hands you the bubble gun, smiling giddily at the thought of it being cleaned.

You run the spot of paint under the warm water, figuring it'll get the paint off faster than cold water can. Pearl watches, mesmerized by the water whirlpooling in the drain as her father quietly approaches.

Much to your surprise, Rafayel gets his revenge. Sneaking up to hug you from behind, he lets the remaining water on his face drip down your nape. Out of surprise, you jump and end up letting go of the bubble gun. It hits the bottom of the sink, knocking the soap cartridge loose. You giggle obliviously, turning your head to receive another innocent kiss, as your beloved wipes away a few drops of water from your neck.

“Mama, look!” Pearl squeals, pointing at the sink.

And that's when you notice the sink is filling with bubbles, all thanks to the warm water and loose bubble cartridge. You let out a surprised yelp, quickly turning off the water.

“Oh…, Raf, ‘m sorry; lemme-”

“No, let me,” He interrupts, “You go lay down with Pearl.”

With a sigh, you wrap your husband in a grateful hug. Lifting your daughter into your arms, with a small ‘c’mon, sweet-pea', you wander back down to her bedroom.

After putting her into her favorite mermaid pajamas, you shuffle off to yours and Rafayel's bedroom. You lay down with her, humming as the two of you cuddle up under the huge blanket.

Without much effort, you both drift off as quickly as all this fun unfolded. Like a typical little kid, Pearl snores softly in your hold, safe in her mother's embrace. Rafayel’s pillow is soft beneath your cheek, justifying your habit of stealing his half of the bed.

Soon he comes back, figuring he could watch a movie with his wife and daughter, only to find you both out cold… on his pillow.

He sighs, shaking his head with a soft smile. He climbs into bed to face you, one arm sliding under you to rest your head on his toned-yet-cushy bicep. Rafayel wraps his other arm over your waist, trapping Pearl between your chests, rubbing your back while your mini-me curls up against her parents’ chests like a baby shrimp.

With the messes cleaned, and a happy sleeping family, the night goes off without a hitch; your dreams intertwining and your smiles softer than the pillows beneath you.

© a-yciecat

Fandoms and No-No's for requests!

[a-yciecat]

The Rafayel fic is done! I'll be posting it this afternoon, sorry for the long wait everyone!💜💜💜

@grievetheliving3311

[a-yciecat]

I'm like halfway done and I am SO excited to share it with you guys!

I have this one friend who absolutely loves Rafayel. Would you guys like it if I wrote a fluff fic about girl dad!Rafayel's and your daughter where he gave her a bubble gun and all chaos ensued?

[a-yciecat]

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[a-yciecat]

is this a safe space to say i dont care if fedex is hiring? i dont care if sitting at home verifying orders? good pay 2025? i dont care. and i wont care in five posts either.

[a-yciecat]

bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements

[a-yciecat]

It's official! I'm writing Dad Raf!!!

I have this one friend who absolutely loves Rafayel. Would you guys like it if I wrote a fluff fic about girl dad!Rafayel's and your daughter where he gave her a bubble gun and all chaos ensued?

[a-yciecat]

I saw this poster at school today and I just feel it represents by current state both literally and figuratively...

[a-yciecat]

Maybe i don't need someone to lie and tell me I'm pretty but rather to agree that I am ugly and say that they still love me anyways.

[a-yciecat]

I have this one friend who absolutely loves Rafayel. Would you guys like it if I wrote a fluff fic about girl dad!Rafayel's and your daughter where he gave her a bubble gun and all chaos ensued?

[a-yciecat]

A snippet of my book since you guys asked for more info! <3 @ze-melon-lord

For context, the setting is supposed to be similar to the Hellenistic Era of Ancient Greece, in a Caveat-like theatre(If you like my writing, and want to see more, PLS send me asks, the fandoms I write for and Nono's are pinned on my page)

Warnings// Depictions of gore and violence, guns and swords, minor cliffhanger if you squint

DO NOT repost w/out using the button on the post or claim as your own, you will be blocked and reported. All rights ARE reserved

Chapter One; Loyalty is Only Obsession

“Ms. Serafina? Ma’am, are you ready?” A young voice spoke up from the darkness of a corner. A dark, private, cavea-like seating area.

“Indeed, I should like to see the show begin…,” A heavenly deep voice responded, “Maybe this one will be different?”

On the guards’ ends, they passed a small cue down to the stage before replacing themselves behind the Goddess’s chair, “Ladies and gentlemen, let the show… begin!”

A disarming smile displayed on the Woman's lips, Her slender hand leaning softly against Her cheek. As She shifted Her hands, the off-shoulder sleeves on Her velvety black dress— garnished with silk roses—, wrinkled and slid ever so slightly up Her arms.

 A messily beautiful display of tricks and twists went on at the infant stage below. The dear, dejected Serafina just couldn’t be satisfied by pulling rabbits out of hats, anymore. Of course, She couldn’t control that She was like this, She had simply existed for just… so long.

Some sorrowful display cast over Her smile whilst staring upon what the people thought Her upbringing had been, “This is all wrong…!”

“Would you like me to inform them?” A fit, armored, young woman knelt beside Her Grace.

“Absolutely not, Anthea; I would rather they not know than they be aware and revolt… Ignorance is bliss, afterall,” She kept Her stern facade through Her disgust.

“As you wish, My Liege,” The soldier of sorts returned to her post in the corner, armor clanking softly against itself.

The show continued, seemingly harmless. No one in the theatre nearly had the chance to catch the barrel of a gun in an actress’s boot. An evil grin consistently mistaken for one of enjoyment.

“and now…,” The man from earlier announced an hour since the start, “Let the beginning of the end commence!”

“Haah, finally…; this one was starting to bore me more than some of the others have… And I thought it would be different,” Serafina, ever the infamous one for never giving up pride, therefore, even when a show appalled Her, She stayed.

“You know, it would be a shame if-,” The lights went out, accompanied by the ping of a bullet ringing through the air — the result of Her own foolishness. 

A deep chuckle slipped from Her mouth, “Oh, is it going to be interesting, afterall? Save the best for last, I suppose.”

“No, Miss, I-I don’t think that is part of the show,” Ethaan called, across from Anthea.

“Not part of the show? So you believe it may be an attack?”

“It is possible, yes,” He adjusted his glasses as if they had miraculously slid down his nose, which they were too tight to do.

“Then should we not evacuate the Lady?” Anthea protested.

“Err…” A small stutter sounded from the boy.

“If I am not in any immediate danger then what is the point?” Serafina stood up, turning around to face the two guards with a perky chuckle, “If it comes down to, then you shall fight.”

“If it is your order, My Lady,” Ethaan hesitantly obeyed, nodding as he turned and looked to his colleague.

The Woman placed a hand on the chair’s armrest from where she stood beside it. The young soldiers exchanged glances; they had only met fairly recently, though they figured they got along just fine.

“We can make that-” Bullets split the mount of one last burning candle, hurling flames towards the ground.

“Well, this means we fight?” Ethaan adjusted his glasses once more, the nerves shaking his fingertips.

“It does. Lady Serafina, please get back.” Anthea stood her ground, moving slightly in front of her superior.

 With the Goddess safely behind Her guards, they readied themselves. Combat may be approaching.

“Where is it coming from? Do you think it is one person or multiple?” Her trusted guards quickly questioned the Lady.

“The first shot sounded like it came from the stage, when the lights went out. And if the one from just now managed to hit our only light left… then it had to of also come from the stage; so, it is at least one of the actors.” Serafina always had such an unnatural sense of hearing. Quite convenient, yes…

Stampeding footsteps raced up the stairs, just so happening to stop in front of their target —There were two of them.

The five of them only needed the slivers of moonlight, seeping in through scream-soaked curtains, to spot each other’s silhouettes. Second by second, breath by labored breath, the anticipation of who would move first—or even breathe first.

Ethaan and Anthea were too slow, the attackers too fast. The darkness blinded Serafina. How unfortunate, She just can’t see in the dark.

Pew, one bullet shot was all it took. Where was it going? To the Goddess? To the guards? The latter. Who? Anthea; she pushed her partner away, taking the bullet to her own abdomen. Wait…, a second shot? So quickly? Did they both have guns?

Ethaan didn’t risk it, he lunged at the anonymous—too late… He landed his blade in a shoulder, yes, but The Lady had already taken the blow.

Her senses had failed Her. She had only been hit in Her right eye, communication was still possible; unless it had gone too deep?

“Ms. Serafina!” Ethaan called out, watching as his boss dropped to Her knees.

She kept silent, still, and silent.

The only audible thing being the labored breaths of the others.

Panicked, the attackers left. Was that it? They thought the bullet took Serafina’s life; so, that was it? How awfully pathetic.

“They’re gone now; please tell me you’re alive, Milady!”

“Yes, I am fine. I only dropped, so they would leave. Though, My eye is definitely going to be blinded; the shrapnel got in it.” She paused, looking at the frightened boy, “Is Anthea alive?”

A withered, “Yes…” sounded from the ground, Anthea lay there, broken and defeated.

“Come now, we shall get you the medical attention you require; we can’t have My best in centuries dying on Me, now, can we?” Serafina carefully cradled the maimed maiden in Her arms, “You aren't injured, as well, are you Ethaan?”

He shook his head, thankfully in good physical health. Yes, physical, at the very least. Had anyone more been injured She wouldn’t have known what to do with Herself. She already didn’t know what to do with Herself; this whole moment felt oddly evocative, almost as if this had maybe happened to Her before. But it hadn’t, it couldn’t have! Or could it. Had it?

© a-yciecat