#what would raffi do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

snowballseal · 3 months ago

Text

Them as supernatural creatures (LaDS)

Summary: This is my take on what supernatural creature each guy would be. They're pretty long, and either a fic where reader discovers what they are or a domestic moment they share together.

Rafayel - kitsune

Zayne - vampire

Xavier - guardian angel

Sylus - demon

Word Count: all roughly 1500 words

Note: These honestly came out soooo much longer than I expected. I might add a fic for Caleb, cause honestly, I'm really warming up to him. What supernatural creature should he be?

I'll probably come back and edit later, so let me know if you catch any mistakes!

---

Rafayel / Kitsune

“Rafayel…” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?! They deserved it,” Rafayel defends himself as he flops down onto the couch.

“That doesn’t mean you can screw with people whenever you want,” you chastise softly and sit next to him, “You’re supposed to keep your identity a secret.”

Rafayel gives you a pout. Letting out a dramatic huff, he falls over into your lap, stretching out lazily instead of giving you any kind of response. You bite back a laugh, his weight pressing you into the couch, effectively trapping you as he makes himself comfortable. It takes everything in you to not give in to his usual cute tactics, the concern gripping your chest not quite letting go.

“Seriously, Raffie, it could be dangerous,” you continue, worry seeping into your voice.

“It’s fiiine,” he sighs, ocean eyes glinting up at you with amusement, “You worry too much, cutie. You wouldn’t even know if I hadn’t told you.”

“Still-”

“Nope, no more worrying,” he cuts you off quickly, reaching up to pinch both your cheek with a teasing, cheshire grin, “Miss Bodyguard is off duty now. This spirit wants his girlfriend to cuddle with him.”

Swatting at his hands, you can feel a blush creeping up your neck. Sometimes it still surprises you how care-free he is, like nothing could ever touch him. Which maybe he’s right. And you know he’s never going to stop his antics. Still, you worry. It’s a part of your nature, wanting to protect people, especially the ones you love, especially him.

But Rafayel is persistent, coaxing you to relax with playful touches and banter. He knows exactly how to unwind you, and how to rile you up, every button, every nerve. You feel almost powerless to resist, to hold onto your lingering doubts. And it’s not even his powers, it’s just Rafayel, your Rafayel.

And of course you give in. With a weak sigh, you settle into the couch, your fingers finding their way into his curls to calm what’s left of your frazzled nerves. Rafayel hums, low and content, his eyes flickering shut as he arches up into your touch like a cat.

“Do you want to stop hiding your ears?” You ask quietly, something warm and tender winding through your ribs.

Rafayel lets out another low rumble, eyes opening a fraction to look up at you suspiciously, “You know, sometimes I wonder if you like my ears more than you like me. That wouldn’t be true, now would it, cutie?”

“Of course not,” you tease, ruffling his hair, “I just want you to be comfortable.”

“Mhm, sure.” A small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips, because of course he knows that you do truly love him for him, but the fox does love his games.

It’s almost unnoticeable, the way he dismisses his transformation magic. Every time you can’t help but watch, fully enraptured by the change. A pair of soft ears flicker up from his hair, as if they were simply hiding in his curls the whole time. And his tails. You blink, and suddenly they appear, fluffy and plush, the same color as his hair. They curl around you, as if seeking out your warmth, the same way Rafayel turns to nuzzle into your stomach. The spirit gives a happy rumble when you rub his ears, pressing impossibly closer.

“You have no idea how irritating it is to hide them all the time.” His voice comes out muffled by your sweater, his ears flicking back before pressing to your fingers again. “I imagine it’s how you humans feel when you wear itchy clothes.”

“That doesn’t sound fun,” you agree, “I’m glad you don’t have to hide them around me anymore.”

“You’re the first human I’ve allowed to see my true form in a long time, ya know.”

Your heart flutters a little at that. It’s a fact you’re well aware of, and one you try to never take for granted. It had taken a long time for Rafayel to share this with you.

Ever since you met in the park, you knew something was different about him. He was beautiful, after all. More beautiful than you thought a person could be. And there was always something about his smile, something that set you on edge but also drew you in. The mischievous glint in his eyes never wavering, the almost unnatural grace he moves with, even the way he talks, as if he remembers times long gone by.

It all clicked when he finally told you. When he showed you his true form. A fox spirit. Everything made complete sense, but also no sense at all in that moment. First, you couldn’t comprehend it. Wanderers, yes, those you could wrap your head around. Mystical fox spirits? No. No, that took a few days to really settle in.

Still, it was Rafayel. It was always Rafayel. And the moment he came to you after those few days of distance, tentative and quiet in a way you had never witnessed from the artist, you made your decision.

A life without him wasn’t possible. Not for you. Not with how you had fallen in love with him.

“So, tell me again why you tricked those guys into thinking a bear was chasing them?” You ask, tone fond as you continue to rub the soft fur on his ears.

Rafayel huffs, rolling on his back to meet your gaze more easily. The swirling colors of his eyes gleam with that familiar mischief, his canines flashing sharply in a dangerous grin, “They were hunting for sport, so I showed them what it’s like to be hunted.”

He really is scary sometimes, you think to yourself, biting back a smile.

“I’m sure they’ll think twice about hunting in your woods again.”

“They better,” he snips, “If I catch them again I’ll send a real bear after them.”

“I’m sure the forest thinks you’re quite a good guardian, mister fox spirit,” you tease, ruffling his hair fondly.

Rafayel suddenly shifts, and in the blink of an eye he’s leaning over you, his arms braced against the couch on either side of your head. You freeze, eyes going wide as you look up at him, pulse racing in your ears. The fox spirit leans down, nose brushing yours, that same dangerous smile pulling at his lips.

“And what do you think, miss hunter?” He asks, breath warm against your lips.

A lump forms in your throat, making it hard to speak, to even breathe with him this close. And Rafayel can tell, his eyes narrowing with amusement. He lifts one hand, fingers tracing delicately along your cheek so you feel the faint edge of his claws.

“What? Fox got your tongue?” He all but taunts, leaning closer. His eyes slowly trail down to your lips, his grin widening. “I could show you what that really feels like if you want.”

…

Heat flares across your cheeks. You gape at him, shock mixing with embarrassment mixing with something you don’t want to admit to. Did he just say what you think he did?

Rafayel keeps his cool facade for only a few more seconds before he cracks, bursting into a fit of laughter. You stare at him, blinking wildly, brain slowly catching up with it all. And then you’re shoving him.

“Rafayel!” You squeak, and he only laughs harder, which in turn, makes you more flustered. “You’re such a- I can’t believe you! God, you’re insufferable.”

The artist catches your hands when you go to hit him again, his ocean eyes crinkling along the edges. Snickering softly, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your angry pout.

“Sorry, my bride,” he hums unapologetically against your lips, pressing a scattering of chaste kisses along your pink cheeks. “It felt like the best way to change the subject.”

“My lover is such a sadist,” you grumble, trying to turn away from him. It’s difficult to keep pouting when he showers you in such soft affection. “My poor heart can’t take this, you know.”

Rafayel cups your face, drawing you back to face him so he can press another kiss to your lips, this one tender and gentle and slow. And just like before, you’re powerless to resist him. Your fingers brush against his neck as you return the kiss, letting the warmth of his touch wash over you. Everything about him is so addicting, so enthralling, like you could get lost and never find your way out. It almost scares you, how much you’re willing to lose for this man.

Eventually Rafayel draws away, if only to let you catch your breath, still teasing you, “Now do you forgive me, cutie?”

“Hmm, I guess so,” you sigh, pretending to be appeased. Your fingers trail innocently up into his hair, until you’re close enough to give his fluffy ear a playful pinch. Rafayel squawks and pulls away, giving you the most dramatic look of betrayal. Grinning, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, “Okay, now I definitely do.”

Rafayel whines, reaching up to rub his ear, “Who’s the sadist now?”

“Watch it, or I might just pull your tail.”

“Okay, okay, we’re even…Now can we cuddle?”

---

Zayne / Vampire

You’ve known Zayne practically your whole life. Well, all of your life that you can remember, at least. He’s always been something constant, if not distant at times. And while you never assumed you knew everything about the doctor, you thought you knew more than most.

That is, until you wander into his office one day to find him passed out on the floor.

“Zayne?” You freeze in the doorway to his office, eyes blowing wide.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t show a single sign of life. Fear sinks deep into your bones, wraps around your lungs like a noose. And then your legs are moving. Your shoes desperately try to grip the tile as you dash across the room, panic dulling the throb in your knees as you drop to the ground beside him.

Pulse. You need to check his pulse. And his breathing.

Hands shaking, you press your fingers below his jaw, only to inhale sharply at the shock of how cold his skin is. Like ice. Too cold. No one should be this cold. And you can’t find a pulse. You skim your fingers down his neck, looking, looking, but still nothing.

Leaning over the still doctor, you press your ear to his chest and wait. Your lungs start to ache from how you desperately hold your breath, but it’s nothing compared to the terror gripping your heart. Because you hear nothing. Nothing at all.

You draw back, lips parting, ready to call out for someone, anyone.

Until a hand clamps firmly over your mouth.

A surprised scream escapes you, muffled by cold fingers, as you find yourself flipped, a hand holding the back of your head to prevent it from hitting the ground. Chest heaving, you draw a fist back, ready to fight back against your attacker, only to freeze when your eyes meet a pair of hazel ones.

Zayne.

Relief washes over you. Quickly followed by confusion. You quickly push his hand away, brow knitting together.

“What the hell, Zayne?” You bark, pushing yourself onto your elbows.

The doctor quickly backs away, resting back on his haunches. You take a moment to look him over, worry still clinging to your bones. He’s pale, somehow more pale than usual at least. Dark shadows rest under his eyes, which appear almost bleary as he gazes back at you. He looks exhausted.

Dead, even.

“You weren’t breathing,” you whisper, getting to your knees so you can check his temperature again. “Your heart wasn’t beating. I checked. What happened? How are you awake right now?”

Zayne grimaces, flinching away from your touch, and you freeze.

A deafening silence fills the office. It’s an odd stand-off, you staring him down, confusion burning behind your gaze, while he does everything he can to avoid it. For a split second, though, you see something you’ve never seen in the doctor. Uncertainty.

“Zayne?” You call again, voice going soft, “Talk to me. Please.”

Zayne hesitates, seemingly debating in his head before he speaks, his voice a low rasp, “I apologize for scaring you. That must have been startling to walk in on.”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, slowly making your way closer to him, “I’m more concerned about you right now. You were dead. At least, I thought you were. So what happened?”

Another beat of silence.

“I must have lost consciousness from exhaustion. I haven’t slept much the past few days,” he tries, but even to your ears, it sounds like a weak excuse.

“Zayne, your heart wasn’t beating. You-” You press a hand to his chest, perhaps to prove a point, perhaps to knock some sense into him. To do something.

Except his heart still isn’t beating.

You're paralyzed. Eyes locked on his chest. Confusion creeps over you, like tendrils of ice spreading through your chest. Sharp. Suffocating. This isn’t right. This can’t be real. It can’t.

Zayne lets out another sigh, this one resigned and tired. Like he’s finally given up. His cold fingers gently cover yours. He draws your hand away from his chest, though he never lets go of it.

“I suppose there’s no hiding it anymore,” he murmurs, voice stiff, like how he speaks when he’s working. “Come, let’s sit on the couch. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable there.”

You don’t say a word as he helps you to your feet. You can’t. Your tongue feels like a dead weight in your mouth. And even if you could talk, you don’t know what you would say. A million questions rush through your head, so blurred that you can’t pick out a single one, except-

“What are you?”

It echoes in your head raucously as you take a tentative seat on the couch. Zayne’s lips press into a tight line, and he clears his throat.

“That depends. There are many names for my condition.” His leg bounces ever so slightly as he continues, eyes still not meeting yours. “Though I suppose the most common term is vampirism.”

Vampirism.

You blink.

And blink and blink.

Vampire. He’s a vampire.

A vampire?

“Those aren’t real,” you immediately breathe out, mind racing.

A humorless smile pulls at the doctor’s lips, “I assure you, it is. I’ve suffered from the symptoms for as long as I can remember.”

A vampire. He’s a vampire. Your childhood best friend is a vampire.

“How did I not notice?” You all but squeak, examining him with this new information.

Sure, he’s pale, but Zayne’s always been pale. And it’s not like he avoids the sun. Aren’t vampires supposed to be weak to the sun or something? Plus, he’s aging, isn’t he? A million new questions race through your mind.

“Wait, do you have fangs?!”

Before you can stop yourself, you’re touching his face, basically making him open his mouth. Zayne startles, brow raising at your brazenness, but he does nothing to stop you. At first, his teeth look normal, the only thing worth noting being the excellent care he’s given them. But then you notice it. His canines seem to sharpen, just a touch longer than they should be.

And that’s all the proof you need.

“You’re a vampire,” you breathe, fingers settling along his jaw.

Zayne watches you carefully, waiting for some kind of reaction. Horror. Fear. Anger. All of those would be appropriate. But you don’t show any of them. Instead, you look at him with a mixture of disbelief and…curiosity?

Brow knitting together, Zayne reaches up to touch your wrist, just to check your pulse to make sure you haven’t gone into some sort of shock. Your pulse is steady though, if not a little accelerated.

“You’re not…frightened? Of me?” He asks slowly, confusion gleaming in the depths of his eyes.

You shake your head, a smile threatening to break out across your features, “No, Zayne, I’m not scared of you. I probably should be, but hey, I fight wanderers for a living. Do I have a lot of questions? Yes. But if you’ve really been like this since we were young, that means you’re not going to suddenly do something to me now, right?”

Your lack of concern should be worrying, but Zayne finds the tension is his shoulders slowly dripping away. Of course you would surprise him like this. You’ve always been too trusting, in his opinion, though he’s not about to correct you now.

“So, do you drink blood? I’m guessing you don’t hurt people, considering how strictly you follow your oath.” Head tilting, you give him a questioning look, eyes wide and almost innocent in their curiosity. “So where do you get it from? Blood bags? I’ve read that in a few books. Or animals? I’ve read that, too. How accurate are all those stories?”

“I could answer your questions if you slow down,” Zayne murmurs, fighting an amused smile. “I assure you, we have plenty of time.”

You flush, biting off the rest of your questions. Right. You’re not really giving him an opportunity to answer, are you? So where do you start?

“What is your first question?” The doctor prompts, thumb brushing calmly over your pulse.

“Hmm. The blood question. Do you have to drink it?”

“Yes,” he answers, though his voice rings with distaste, “I have to consume some form of blood every few months to keep my senses about me. I’ve perhaps waited too long this time.”

“Do you need some right now?” You press, brow furrowing.

Zayne hesitates. His lips pinch together again, a sign you recognize.

“No.”

“Liar. That’s why you passed out,” you accuse, though you keep your voice somewhat gentle.

He says nothing for a long moment, a mixture of guilt and discomfort crossing his features. Sighing softly, you give his cheek a light pinch.

“Zaaayne.”

“I’ve tolerated longer periods than this between feedings,” he murmurs, trying to sound dismissive, though you can hear the exhaustion creeping back into his voice, “My body must simply be enduring higher levels of stress due to the season. As long as I rest more, I’ll be fine until my next supply arrives.”

“Oooor,” you hum, hesitating only a moment before you offer, “You can draw some of my blood. Just enough to get you through till then. We know it’s clean since you always run so many tests on it, so that shouldn’t be a concern right?”

Zayne blinks in surprise. Even if you were taking this all well, he certainly wasn’t expecting you to make such an offer. But you meet his gaze, unwavering, expectant, mind already made up.

If his heart were beating, he’s sure it would stutter.

While he hates his condition, hates what he has to do to appease it, he can’t deny that the smell of your blood has always been tempting to him. Cloyingly sweet, like the sweetest dessert.

He should say no. He should just endure, as he always has.

But the determination in your eyes makes him waver. And Zayne is a weak man when it comes to anything related to you.

“It’s not advisable…” He starts, jaw tightening.

You perk up, not actually expecting him to consider it. It was a crazy idea after all, but you want to help. You hate the idea of him suffering by choice when you can do something about it.

“But…?”

“But I am not completely opposed to the idea,” he concedes, almost looking ashamed.

“Good,” you chirp, a smile lighting up your face as you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Then let’s get to work, doctor.”

God, you would be the death of him.

Well, if he were fully alive, that is.

---

Xavier / Angel

“How is it that you seem to find danger wherever you go?” Xavier murmurs, voice as even as ever, yet cradling a hint of exasperation.

Biting back a smile, you keep your attention focused on his fingers. They work with a practiced precision to bandage the laceration on your arm, adept from the years of dressing your wounds. It has become a near weekly occurrence because of your work. Getting hurt is an unfortunate side effect of being a hunter.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so reckless if I didn’t have such a sweet angel to take care of me afterwards,” you hum, tone bordering on teasing.

Xavier’s ears flush a soft pink, his wings ruffling in some kind of indignation, which only makes your smile stretch wider. He’s always so easy to fluster, and his wings give him away every time. It makes you want to tease him even more, but when you go to do exactly that, all that escapes you is a low hiss when he swipes a pad of alcohol across another of your cuts.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his thumb brushing tenderly along your knuckles.

“S’okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath, “Just stings. I hate the shallow ones more than the actual cuts, you know?”

Xavier gives a low hum, neither agreeing or disagreeing. You’re sure he would prefer you avoid all physical injury, but that is an argument the angel lost a long time ago, not long after you first met. And what a day that was.

Xavier came into your life in a flash of light. Literally.

You remember the day with quite a bit fondness despite how horrible it was. Everything had gone wrong that day. Exams were kicking your butt, as was training for the Association. To say you were down in the dumps was an understatement, which is why you had been out in the woods, trying to enjoy a bit of silence.

That is, of course, when a wanderer decided to appear.

You did your best to handle it, but you were still just in training at the time, and it was clear you were outmatched. Things would have taken a turn for the worse if Xavier hadn’t shown up.

All you really remember is seeing a blinding light, almost like a flashbang, and then there he was. Ethereal, face set with stone-cold focus, hair silvery white like a star, but most striking were the large wings stretching from his shoulders, impossibly white, the edge of each feather glinting like a knife. With a flourish of his sword, he clashed with the wanderer, killing it in seconds.

In that moment, you were convinced you were dead. That made a lot more sense than what you were seeing, after all - an angel. Sure, he didn’t have the halo, but what else could he be? And how could you be seeing an angel if you weren’t dead?

It took him kneeling down in front of you, eyes sharp with concern as he scanned your entire body for injuries, for you to realize you were, in fact, not dead. And that’s when the questions started.

“Who are you?”

“What are you?

“Where did you come from?”

Xavier being Xavier, he danced around each answer. And you being you, you didn’t relent until you got the answers you wanted.

Not only is he an angel, he’s a guardian angel, and you’ve become his charge. And since he revealed himself to you, he can’t go back to his realm without getting in serious trouble.

That’s how you ended up here, with an angel as your roommate. What else were you supposed to do with him? The man was like a lost puppy with wings. Sure, he can take down a wanderer like it’s nothing, but ask him to work a toaster and he’ll sit there for about an hour just staring at the thing. You couldn’t leave him to fend for himself.

And it was the best decision of your life, really. Not only has he become your best friend, but maybe something more.

“I do wish you would stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger,” Xavier rumbles suddenly, pouting a little bit as he examines your now bandaged hand.

“It’s not unnecessary,” you chime softly, slipping your hand from his to poke his cheek playfully. Satisfaction curls in your chest at the blush that spreads across his beautiful features, his pout only growing cuter. “If I don’t put myself in danger, then other people will, and then innocent people can get hurt.”

“Being so selfless could get you killed,” he sighs, rising to his feet, wings flaring behind him.

Your eyes follow him, steady and warm, head craning up to hold his gaze, “I’m perfectly capable of staying alive, Xavier. And if I’m ever in trouble, I know you’ll be there to help me.”

The angel huffs. You’re not wrong, as much as he’d like to argue. What was once just a job to him, a responsibility, is now something more, something carved deep into his soul. Every fiber of his being longs to keep you safe, even if it means breaking every rule he once followed. Even if it means he must fall some day.

Ignoring that thought, Xavier settles onto the bed next to you, letting out a heavy sigh as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. His hair brushes your neck, soft and ticklish, drawing a light giggle from you as you curl your arms around his shoulders.

“You really shouldn’t worry so much, starlight.”

“You make it incredibly difficult not to,” he grumbles, voice low and muffled, “I just want to keep you safe…”

“Hmm, such a sweet angel,” you hum and card your fingers through the feathers at the base of his wings.

Xavier holds back a shiver, his body arching into your delicate touch. His wings have always been sensitive, especially when you’re the one touching them. You don’t miss the way his blush spreads down his neck, or the way his wings instinctively curl around you, as if they can block out the rest of the world, as if to make a space just for the two of you. The smile that pulls at your lips is overwhelmingly fond, just like your touch.

You love the feeling of his feathers under your fingers. At first glance, they look almost sharp, but they’re surprisingly soft, downy and warm to the touch. Without thinking, you trail your fingers along the curve of his wing and fix any out of place feathers with the utmost of care. Xavier lets out another, shaky sigh, his eyes flickering shut.

It’s a soft moment. Everything else is muted, the only sound being that of your steady breath and his lazy, content hums. Xavier nuzzles even closer to you, his body impossibly warm, his weight too much for you to support. A giggle escapes you as you lean back onto the bed, the angel settling on top of you without an ounce of shame in his expression.

“I swear, sometimes I wonder if you’re actually a cat disguised as an angel, “ you tease, reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips. He leans into your palm without hesitation.

“Being a cat wouldn’t be so bad,” he murmurs, as if he’s given the idea some thought before. “I’d get to sleep all day and eat whenever I want instead of chasing a certain, reckless hunter around.”

He nips at your finger lightly, but your smile doesn’t waver.

“I think you’d get bored eventually.”

“Is that so?”

“Yah. I think you enjoy chasing me around, you just don’t want to admit it,” you chirp, tilting your head innocently, “And you’d miss me horribly, don’t you think?”

Xavier hums, turning his face to nuzzle into your palm. His lips brush your skin, a whisper of some kind of promise, making your heart flutter unevenly.

“I suppose I would…and would you miss me?” His eyes flicker back to you, narrowed, an undeniable spark of affection kindled in their blue depths.

You both know the answer.

“I’d miss you more than anything, angel.” Leaning forward, you press a kiss to his cheek. “I can’t imagine life without you.”

A hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “Then, I guess I’ll have to stay by your side.”

“You better.”

“Of course, my lady.”

---

Sylus / Demon

“What does your real form look like?”

You perch on the edge of his bed, feet kicking in the air as you watch Sylus get ready for whatever meeting he’s about to go to. Something to do with one of the other head crime bosses in the N109 Zone, you’re sure. One certainly down on their luck and looking to make a deal.

Sylus glances at you through the mirror, long fingers slowing as he fixes his cufflinks. His eyes bore into you, glinting with something violent, something vicious and bloody that should unsettle you to your core, but you don’t flinch, you don’t even blink.

Such a brave kitten, the demon thinks, amusement curling his lips.

“Curious, sweetie?”

The smile he gives you is sharp, too sharp, and your skin prickles with an instinctive kind of unease. It’s something you’ve grown used to, the way your body reacts to him. Like a lamb cornered by a wolf, everything screaming at you to run, yet you chose to stay cornered. Choose to trust the teeth pressing so gently to your throat, violence and desire so perfectly restrained to keep you safe.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you chime, head tilting ever so slightly. “I just…want to understand you better, you know?”

Sylus hums and turns his focus back to straightening his cuffs, “Is that so? Aren’t you scared of what I might look like?”

“No.” Your answer is quick, unwavering, and Sylus perks a brow.

A brave kitten indeed. He’s almost impressed. The rumors about him are none too kind, and yet here you are, seeking the truth. Without knowing what the truth means.

Giving himself one last look in the mirror, the demon turns to you. He studies you for a long moment, gaze dark, pensive, intense in a way that makes your breath hitch. His eyes darken, something predatory glinting in their cardinal depths. You look at him so innocently, as if you’re not staring down the devil himself, as if you know he’d never hurt you. It makes him want to ruin you, to see that pretty blush stain your skin all over, just to curb the morbid desire burning in his chest.

But you are right, he’d never hurt you. You’re too pure, too good. So he lets himself be soft, to the best of his ability at least.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors,” he murmurs eventually.

His shoes barely make a noise as he slowly approaches you. Each step is measured, confident, like he always is, and each step makes your heart flutter a little more. You’re all but holding your breath as Sylus comes to stand in front of you. His fingers, calloused and rough from a life of violence, graze your jaw so tenderly, drawing your face up to his.

“Are you sure you can handle it, sweetie?” He asks, voice almost taunting, though his features remain soft, unassuming.

Still unwavering in your decision, you nod, “I want to know you, Sylus. All of you.”

He holds your gaze for another long moment, as if he’s trying to read your soul. Which he very well could be, you realize. But when you look into his eyes, what you see isn’t his usual smug composure. Instead, you see a flicker in hesitation. Uncertainty. And it makes your heart ache.

Lifting a hand, you carefully cover the one Sylus holds against your cheek. You lean into the warmth of his touch, a gentle smile pulling at your lips, “You won’t scare me away, Sylus. I promise.”

So perceptive. Sylus gives a low chuckle, shaking his head, “You really aren’t like most humans, sweetheart. Most wouldn’t want to know me even in this form.”

“Well that’s their loss,” you hum, eyes crinkling up at him, “But that means I get you all to myself, so I can’t feel too bad for them.”

“My, what a selfish little kitten I have.” His thumb brushes lovingly over your cheek as his expression turns more serious. “If you want to see my true form, all you have to do is ask. Your desires are mine to fulfill, and I will do so with pleasure.”

“I want to see it, Sylus,” you repeat, “I want to see you.”

“Alright.” He draws back, that wicked smile returning, “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you, kitten.”

You watch, enraptured, as he rolls his shoulders, tendrils of dark smoke curling around his body. It envelopes him completely and the air in the room grows tense, fizzling with a static that has the hair on your arms standing on end. The lights flicker, plunging the room in darkness for a split second.

And when they come back on, you have to swallow down a gasp.

Because there he is. You’re not sure exactly what you were expecting. You had heard the rumors, the whispers about the monster that haunts the N109 Zone, but this somehow seems different from everything you’ve heard.

Smoldering eyes, sharp and cat-like now, stare you down with an apprehensive gleam. A pair of dark horns curl from his silvery hair. Veins of the same color curl around his neck and down his forearms like webs, the skin of his hands bleeding pitch black. His fingers look more like claws, glinting dangerously in the dim light of the room. Your eyes catch on the tail waving behind him, the spade-tip just as sharp. And the wings. They unfurl slightly, ink-like feathers brushing the floor.

What’s most shocking though, is his size. He stands almost a foot taller, his already imposing stature now threatening. The air shivers around his form, and you can feel that familiar, foreboding sensation creeping up your spine.

But the only thought running through your head is that he’s beautiful. Beautiful like a storm. Devastating and destructive, yet you can’t tear your eyes away. And you just want to be closer.

“Are you scared, kitten?” His voice rumbles with an almost imperceptible dissonance, a hint of concern beneath his tone.

You blink, gaze snapping back up to his, “No, of course not, Sy.”

The tension seems to fall away from his shoulders at that, but he still doesn’t dare move, like he’s still worried you might run away. So you, in a bout of confidence, push off the bed and walk right up to him. Sylus watches you carefully, expression reserved.

“Can I?” You ask, keeping your tone soft as you brush your fingers against the back of his hand. You look up at him questioningly, and Sylus relents, allowing you to take his hand in yours. Your touch is unbearably soft and curious, trailing along the dark tendrils marking his skin. “Does any of it hurt? To change, I mean. Are you comfortable in this form?”

“I used to spend more time in this form,” he hums, tail flicking back and forth, “but to do business in the N109 Zone, one must be able to live in the shadows without being noticed. This form did not benefit me, so I took the form of a human to…blend in, one might say. Humans are more willing to make a deal when they believe they’re on equal ground.”

“That makes sense, but it didn’t answer my question.” You pout, tapping his hand. “Does it hurt to switch between the two?”

A small grin pulls at Sylus’ lips, revealing a sharp set of fangs, his eyes narrowing in amusement, “No, sweetie, it doesn’t.”

“Good.” You nod and brush your thumb over his knuckles. “Then I want you to take whatever form you’re more comfortable in when it’s just the two of you.”

Surprise flickers across his face, barely noticeable, but you catch it. Sylus covers it up quickly, his smile turning mischievous, “I didn’t expect you to be so comfortable with this. Does my kitten have a soft spot for monsters?”

“Maybe,” you hum, stretching up to curl your hands around his neck despite how much taller he is than you now.

Sylus relents once more, leaning down so you don’t have to balance on the tips of your toes, even though he finds it quite cute. His hands rest tentatively against your waist, his fingers nearly interlinking at the small of your back. The size difference makes you bite the inside of your cheek, heat creeping up your neck.

Pushing the thought away, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, humming happily, “You’re not a monster, though. I think you actually look quite…charming like this.”

The demon huffs out a laugh, his forehead coming to rest against yours, “Whatever you say, sweetheart. I’ll be whatever you want, as long as it makes you happy.”

“You make me happy, Sylus.”

“Well then, I suppose this arrangement will benefit us both greatly.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips, “I suppose it will.”

---

I felt most of my choices were pretty expected, but let me know if you guys think they'd be other supernatural creatures! And Happy almost Halloween!

532 notes · View notes

every-moment-a-different-sound · 2 months ago

Text

Cameo submitted by @shadowflame84, @tragedy-machine, @idliketobeatree,

@sapphic-corgi, @shaylogic, @tw0-ravens, @qwanderer, and me! We sent in:

Hi from the Dead Gay Detectives server, we really loved your amazing work on DBD, and really appreciate and support you both!

Here are our asks, but we understand if you can't answer all of them:

What movie remake would you like to be cast together? Could be any character gender and age/any movie ever

If Edwin & Charles weren't detectives, what other projects/fields would they want to engage with & how would it work?

Could you pull out the most modern Edwin & Charles outfits out of your closets & share your thoughts on their fashion?

Thank you so much for doing cameos and we hope you guys had fun this week! Lots of love to Raffy and Luna!

#gameoden #jayden revri #george rexstrew #dead boy detectives #dbda

190 notes · View notes

astracora · 3 days ago

Text

Turning Point - Part 4

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability, Xavier Anecdote and Lightseeker Myth mentions.

Word Count: 4584

Written: 7th January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. This one was rough for a lot of reasons. Also I think about how Xavier is the only confirmed character to watch MC die in his arms, way more than I should. So I feel like guilt is an emotion he would have to contend with the most. I'm also beyond heartbroken we didn't get him sobbing or reacting in game. Also I wrote like, so many side things while I was trying to work this bit out. But I've also gone back to chapter 3 to change the timeframe for Raffy's exhibit, so I can write out the chapter for him properly. (chapter? part?)

Now Playing: Starlight, by STARSET

Masterlist AO3

<- Previous Next ->

Xavier can't focus, he knows Nero is talking to him. If he had to make a guess, he knows the topic… he just can't make himself hear it.

He doesn't dislike Nero, and while he couldn't care less about the topic of Lumiere, least of all when you talk about him, he normally listens. Because Nero likes Xavier, and is comfortable talking to him, and has zero interest in flirting with you.

It's a low threshold… he's aware he's a selfish creature. If the new companions he'd acquired weren't willing to die for you too, he probably would have less patience for them. Even if sometimes they do press on the edges of his tolerance.

It's probably part of his punishment…

For not being there.

For letting you get hurt.

"Xavier?"

"Xaviiiiiier?"

"Hey!"

His nose is held, and he jolts upright, looking forwards with wide eyes at Tara and Nero who are frowning.

"Are you alright?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bore you."

He shakes his head, trying to clear what you've dubbed his 'storm cloud', "Just tired."

Tired. Angry. Hurting. He let you down, and now you're suffering even more.

He thinks about the you he left behind, the future he turned his back on. He thinks about the throne, and the ship he chartered.

He thinks about every life he's taken to protect yours. All the blood on his hands.

With all of his vigilance, all of his love, it took moments to almost lose you. Again.

"You should head home, we don't have any missions, and you'll just fall asleep again." Tara laughs, pushing a paper bag towards him, "And take this back for them, alright?"

He's about to do so, when he sees documents on Nero's desk. Sketches of prosthetic arms, augmented with wanderer designs. "What are you doing?"

Nero jumps, shoving the paper back but too slowly, Xavier picks it up to peer at it. Alongside the sketches are notes.

'Adjust the metal casing so it can be used as an emergency shield.' 'Nerve transmitters that work from the brain, requires less input from residual limb.' 'Bioorganic materials from wanderers reduce rejection rate?' 'Will they want patterns? Or something more skin-like?'

He looks at Nero, from all the notes, even some he can't read because the handwriting is quick and frantic, "What's this?"

The man in question looks down, his glasses almost falling off his nose, "I was talking to some of the other hunters who have a prosthetic. or lost a limb."

"I was doing the talking, Nero was taking notes."

He nods, looking a little more backed up with Tara next to him, "I wanted to find out what they could have used more when they started working again. Ways I could help them." He blinks then, looking startled, "They're coming back right?"

Tara looks at Xavier too, and he feels like he's under a microscope, because her face has changed. Fear lurking in frantic eyes.

"They will." He affirms, because you're aiming to, and he knows you don't give up. You'll stumble, trip, fall and bleed… but you'll get up and start running again.

He thinks about the you he left behind, and the you now.

Scarred and angry, aching at the edges. He thinks of the laughter when you finish a mission, fist bumping him with glee. The photos he has of you where you're smiling. Even if you don't smile as wide as Tara does, even if the scars tug at your lips. He thinks about your eyes, glittering with mischief, as you steal something off his desk.

When you can't stop laughing when you ask to try his light blade, flashing teeth like a cat. Heated cheeks but amused. He shares a blush, but he wishes you wouldn't tease.

You're different, with overlaps in parts.

He misses your smile.

"Nero, can you help me with something?"

—-

When he gets back to the apartment building, the moon high in the sky, he wants to see you straight away… but his hunter uniform is dirty, and he wants to relax. Release the strain of the day. So he stops off, changes, and sees some of the doctor's clothes next to his bed.

He's not sure what made him offer his apartment as a secondary place to stay. He's not sure if it was the relief in your eyes when you saw them all there the next morning, or the guilt that he wasn't enough alone to protect you.

Regardless, he made a choice. Even though only the doctor seems to use it. Rafayel prefers to sleep on the floor, if he sleeps at all with his projects, Sylus drifts in and out like a ghost… he only stays when he stays next to you.

He finds himself sleeping against your bed when you do, when he's not fighting. Trying to chase out the guilt with his sword.

As he makes his way back to your apartment, he sees a note on the fridge.

Plate in fridge, reheat it.

With a sketch of a round crow… he thinks it's wearing a neck ruff?

"Courtesy of kitten," The voice is even, and he sees Sylus at the kitchen table. Prosthetic in hand, as he goes through motions they all know. Cleaning and tending to it. "The crow, that is. The food is me. An extra plate is easy."

Xavier would question the intelligence of eating food made by a criminal, but if he trusts Sylus' food in your hands, he doesn't fear it in his own. "Thanks." He doesn't want to think too hard about this. About the state of things. The people around him that he never would have met without you.

He fractures at the idea that he can't be enough to protect you.

He'll eat it later, when guilt doesn't turn his stomach.

"If you're going to check in on them, do it quietly." Sylus doesn't look up at him, content to ease leather with careful hands and cloth, "They finally got to sleep."

He bristles a little, at being told to be careful with you, eyes narrowing and cold, but it is not received. The man even has the nerve to begin humming, low and under his breath. Out of tune. Xavier doesn't think he's ever met another man so impossibly unbothered by the world around him.

The words are ignored, received with a huff, and he walks past, towards your bedroom. You're alone today, no Rafayel lay on the bed with you, sketching, no Zayne, reading in the dark, as you sleep. You are curled around a large plushie of a narwhal, arm clutching it to your chest as you mutter through your dreams.

It is a relief to see the steady movement of your breathing. Though he still does not settle down until he places a hand on your cheek, feeling the exhale. You're alive, you're here, and you're under his hands.

The guilt calms down, as he reminds himself of that.

Instead of going back out to eat, Xavier settles down on the floor, back pressed to the bed, cheek on the mattress. Watching you. It is one of the few times he is relieved for his ease of sleep. So he can drift off, watching you live.

—----

The next morning, he places a cup of coffee next to your bedside table, and gives a nod to Sylus who has been reading one of your books, before returning to the Hunter's Association. He comes face to face with an excited Nero.

He almost takes a step back. Very nearly turns around and walks out, before he remembers he asked for something, "Xavier!"

Tara is following close behind, hiding her laughter behind her hand, "He's been waiting by the door for you."

"Three people responded that they're interested in talking to you. They're also happy to have notes taken, so I can help."

He wasn't sure he'd hear anything this quickly, he supposes he shouldn't be that surprised. Nero fixates on something, just as much as you do. His fixation tends to come in bursts of problem solving, yours comes in biting and tearing and clawing to the solution.

"Alright, let's go."

Jenna gives him time to talk, and he walks with Nero to a room where the three people are sat, chatting between themselves.

They still, and watch as he hesitates. An older man chuckles at him, waving his one hand, "Sit down, lad. We don't bite."

It moves his feet, into a chair, but not his mouth. He needs to move forwards, but he's not sure how.

What can he say? How can he help you? What words are there to help you move forwards?

He thinks about the trembling in your body, the tears that won't fall in your eyes. He is stuck. Xavier is stuck, like he's holding you under a meteor shower again. Shaking you.

Begging. For something.

A miracle.

"Nero already told us about your partner." A woman speaks, she sports a flexible keel prosthesis, "Not that we don't know about UNICORNs, you lot don't half make some noise." Her voice is cool, level, but she has a small smile. Warm eyes.

It eases him. "I wanted-"

"To ask questions right, lad? I can talk for hours for you."

So he lets them, as he listens. The old man works in analytics, collating information for the Association. He was born without his hand. Tried prosthetics, none took, he didn't want to keep trying.

"I accepted it straight away, my husband stood beside me. There are problems, but we work through them."

The young female hunter is from one of the Beta teams. Lost her foot in a fight with a wyrm, saved her partner in the process.

"I thought I'd accepted it, took the prosthetic training, everything went well. It was two years later, when I woke up one day, burst into tears. Couldn't stop." She fidgets, toying with her fingers for a moment, before straightening up, "Sometimes I still get sad, like I'm finally processing it, but normally it's just another day. It's a tool, not part of me, but it gave me most of my independence back. So even when I'm sad, I hold to that."

The third hunter twirls a pen around their prosthetic fingers, they're an arctic hunter, in the area for training. There's a large scar down their eye, and they don't react visually to the others, but leans forward to speak. They don't reveal how they gained their prosthetic.

"Didn't accept it, not for a long time. Woke up everyday angry, got reckless. Almost died." They exhale, deep, slow, tired, "Sometimes I'm still angry, but I'm still a fighter. I can still help my squad. So it's worth it. Took me longer to get around to using it than most, I dragged my feet, didn't want to learn for ages. It was my partner that got me moving, came to check in on me. Called me a fool, 'one life, idiot, keep living it'. So I did."

"It's hard sometimes, but people handle it differently."

Xavier sits and listens, they give tips on coming back to working as a hunter, they share everything he could even think to ask. Warm and ready, and understanding. They ask to meet you when you're back, tease him about his name and yours.

You're one of Jenna's best for a reason. Those hunter's reels certainly get watched a lot.

He tries not to think about the advertisements he's had to star in, either alongside you or alone. He's just relieved he doesn't get recognised as Lumiere.

That conversation would be even longer.

Hunters live a job at risk, he's aware of that… he can't stop thinking about it.

"Kid." He looks up, wants to correct the man, decides against it, "It's alright to be struggling, worrying about your partner. They're not gone though. Don't sit in the past. Get help yourself, but remember to share with them. Let that partner of yours know how you feel, they'll feel less isolated."

His shoulders jump, the chill in his back. He's been fatalising. Acting like you're broken when he knows that's what you're fearing. Thinking of you like you're gone, when you're right in front of him.

Stuck in the past…

Guilt and pain and worry making him think about you like he'll lose you if he stops.

You're alive, and you're moving forwards, and he needs to as well. With you. "Thank you." This thanks, he thinks, feels more honest. Like he's not biting his tongue to say it.

When Xavier returns home, he doesn't mind the plate left in the fridge for him.

He doesn't mind that the most wanted man of Philos is chuckling with your head in his lap, because he joins you on the sofa, and listens to you tell them about your sessions.

He has to remember you're capable of protecting yourself, you've always wanted to stand equal. Protecting others, as much as they protect you. Stubborn, and proud, to a fault sometimes.

As you smile, small and crooked at him, he offers you the notes he and Nero finished compiling.

You read them, eyes wide, and glimmering, before wrapping your arm around his neck.

"Thank you Xavier."

It's good to not be alone, he thinks. It's been far too long. Too many he's had to lose… That he's forgotten how to reach out, how to even take a hand, let alone stop himself from holding too tight out of fear.

He doesn't want to forget your future.

Even when Sylus smirks, calls him a little knightling, and he debates if you really need a support system that includes the criminal.

—----

Progress is steady. You struggle, and you stumble. But you remember the laughter in the kitchen and the beast dropping off your back to curl about your ankle.

You think about the notes handed to you by Xavier, carefully recorded accounts of acknowledgment, support… life.

You think about Tara, Simone and Nero. How much you want to get back to standing alongside them.

You think about gentle hands taking care of you in the bathroom while you shivered, and warm meals with arguing voices.

You think about Caleb. What he'd say if he were with you.

And you take one step at a time.

When you are not in front of Doctor Rin, clinging far too tightly to whoever's hand is turning bone white in your grip, you are practicing at home.

She's asked you what your goal was, the point you're aiming for.

It is easier, she reminds you, to have something to achieve.

It's an easy question, you want to be back in the field again, you want to make your life mean something. You want to fight alongside the people you trust, and not leave them to flounder alone.

When you are a hunter again, and taking on missions, that's when you'll have achieved your goal. You tell her, hand in a fist.

Her smile overlaps with Gran's, the day you'd told her and Caleb you got into the academy. You think about the way he'd poked you in the forehead, then ruffled your hair, 'Way ta go pipsqueak.'

You think he'd be pulling your hand, running forwards, if he were here. Just like he pulled you forwards everytime you got injured in a fight. Just like he pulled when you wanted to give up.

The memory keeps you from stopping.

Over the course of weeks, you set yourself challenges.

It starts with challenging yourself to hold your prosthetic.

It's not as heavy as you think it should be. The logical part of your brain reminds you that it's built for hunters specifically, and is replacing your arm.

It's that logical part of your brain that stops you from throwing it away from you. It is a tool, you tell yourself. Something that will ensure you can still be a hunter. That eventually, at the end of this, you will be able to go back to doing what you should be doing. Using your life to help others. No matter how short it is.

Some days it feels like it burns you when you place your hand on it. Those days, you leave your room, and sit by Rafayel as he paints. Watching him work, seeing the world he sees.

You ask him questions about his work, even though part of you worries you'll disturb him. He never indicates you are, answering you happily. You think he's happy to share, you hope he is. You're happy to listen.

One day you see his open sketchbook.

For a second, you see a sketch of you, worn and tired… but alive. Your body scarred, but you tremble to see yourself looking like art on his page.

You close the book, placing it back by his canvas, and go back to the prosthetic. To try again.

You learn to wear it, for short periods of time a day, to build up to throughout the day.

You start off, managing twenty minutes, before you have to rip the thing off. Relieved when Zayne catches your hand, stopping you from doing any damage to it. Before he helps you ease yourself out.

The straps are easy to adjust with one hand, but when you want it off, it feels as though you are on fire. Tearing at clothing melting into your skin.

He sits next to you and massages your residual limb, fingers easing hair from your face, tracing lines on your cheek. The fire in your body settles at the cool touch of his hands, and you settle again.

Later, you try again. When it burns, you remember the ice of Zayne's touch, and keep going.

The next stage is to clean it. You learn the motions, you study how to do it. Sat in the living room, tools to your side, figuring out how best to do it with one hand.

There are days when you drop the tools. Trying hard not to sob as they tumble to the floor. Choking back tears as your hand doesn't work the way you want it too. As you fail to follow the steps correctly. As you spill leather conditioner on the table, or the carpet.

In those moments, someone will join you at your side. Sylus will pull the tools away, and sit next to you, running through the motions he's been learning as he's watched you. Overtime, it becomes routine. He masters the steps before you do, assisting you, cleaning out the inner socket alongside as you gently clean the leather straps. Other times, Xavier, hesitant and unsure about touching your prosthetic, joins you. Head in your lap. You speak the steps out loud, running through them so he can learn them with you. The next time, he does it himself, calm and kind and warm. Smiling at you as he does so.

Everyday is a day to take your medication, your wounds are healing well, and with the care of those around you, you are coming away with scars, but no longer bleeding through bandages.

The final challenge is the practice, the movement and the acquainting yourself with the movement of your limb.

You sit in the hospital room you can't stand, hand anchored in Sylus', who has joined you for today. It is another day, and the weight of walking through corridors has eased somewhat. You know the passage of time means things become easier, you're used to that. The flow, the adjustment. The steps forward, and stumbles back.

Your heart has given you some experience in this.

Doctor Rin greets you easily, awaiting your arrival. As soon as she sees you, she smiles. It is that same warm smile that makes the ghosts lurk at your shoulders. It is an exhale to steady you, before you return it with a half smile. Hard enough to offer expressions, without the added grief pulling you back.

It passes easier than you expect. An introduction to the exercises you need to practice, information about not forcing yourself until you hurt. To take breaks and come back to it, if you fail five times, stop. Try again later.

To practice every day. It is a skill you have to learn. Not unlike when you were learning to use your weapons, struggling to learn how to aim. Falling down everytime you swung a claymore.

It is simple things. Can you open and close your new hand? Can you rotate your wrist?

It is a mountain, one you are scared to try to climb.

There is the stable hand in yours, a man who chuckles at you as you look at him, seeking out something in molten eyes. You don't like being weak in front of Sylus, despite him offering you the space to be yourself. It is a long standing fear.

You are more scared to be alone, however, so you turn back to the doctor.

You remind yourself of boxing training with Sylus, who teases you when you don't punch fast enough, but takes you in earnest. Rights your stance. Watches you practice. Praises you for improvement.

Challenges you to be better.

This is another tool you can use, something to enable you to fight again. To stand by him and fight again.

So you follow the doctor's instructions. It is an almost unconscious feeling. She has explained how the transmitters work, but you don't want to think about it too much. Understanding is something, you need it to be instinctual. If it's not, you won't be able to fight again.

Still, you feel yourself overextend. Overcompensate movement where it was once easy. The hand stares back at you as you watch it, and you try to remember what you used to do. Extend. Feel where the muscles should tense along your shoulder. Close. Open.

It reacts, but it is slow. Metal fingers steadily opening, closing. You try to twist your wrist, but it doesn't move the way you want. Frustration builds. You try again. You feel your shoulder twitch but nothing happens.

Your teeth grit, and you try again.

"Kitten." The voice calls you back, a firm grip takes your chin, turning your head to focus on his molten eyes again. There is a twinkle in there, his normally ever present smirk has evened out. Serious but calming. You watch the red of his eyes swirl, and you feel him smooth his thumb across your cheek. "Don't chase your tail, take a deep breath, try again."

He pushes you forwards. Always. Testing your limits, watching you grow.

You think about ways you'd trained your body to fight, ways you made yourself stronger. Running with Zayne, practicing with the blade with Xavier, maneuvers with Rafayel, strength training with Sylus. You are not going to stop until you learn how to use this.

Until you achieve that goal.

This time, when you try, it comes a little easier, as you calm yourself down. Heart settling into a steady rhythm and you watch the hand move. Twisting the wrist, opening and closing it. Pride settles in your chest, as you grin at it. Relief and satisfaction, that you haven't failed. You turn and you twist and watch in awe.

The fingers open a little quicker, you practice moving them but the individual movements are sluggish, and you try to pick things up, but you drop them more than you hold them.

When Sylus nudges you with his shoulder, smirking at you, you take on the pride in his eyes, and you keep moving forwards.

You hit a wall when you have to stretch it out properly, bending the elbow joint, but you settle.

You take the challenge.

It is a mountain you will learn to climb.

You learned how to be a hunter, you can learn this.

As you walk home with Sylus, twisting the arm despite your fatigue, he chuckles, "You look like you've received a new toy. You're like this when I get you a new gun."

You sniff at him, poking him with the metal hand, though its clumsy and more of a full hand than a finger. Marvelling at the feeling of heat from him that comes through the prosthetic. "You just wait, soon I'll be swinging a sword again."

He pauses, looking at you, and then laughs. A chuckle that shakes his hand in yours, and then pulls you in to flick your forehead, "Alright Kitten, let's get you there."

The exercises continue at home, you move into the kitchen while Sylus cooks, to practice with a ball. The more you do it, the easier it gets to learn the motions. Every new thing you try, however, is a hurdle you feel sick to overcome.

Sometimes the movement refuses to do as you want. So you remove it, and try not to cry, try not to drown, and find a distraction.

When you try to pick up a cup, you watch in horror as you drop it, smashing it across the floor. Sylus pulls you away from the fragments, soothing the upset, over breaking something. Over failing. Over being this.

After that you stick to things that won't break, won't hurt you. It still aches when you drop something, when you fail. You're never alone in the pain for too long, there is always a constant, someone there to keep you from spiralling.

The more they catch you, the less you need catching. Until you pick up a cup, and you laugh. Pride brimming. An achievement, no broken shards. A tool you are learning to use.

Later, when you're tired, but relieved, you sit at the kitchen table as Sylus sings along to a song in your playlist as he cooks, there is no Rafayel to argue with, so he seems far calmer. Happy. He always seems happy when he sings.

"Sy?"

He hums, looking back at you. His smiles are often more warm eyes than movement of his mouth, quirks and twitches. "What's wrong Kitten?"

You hesitate, thinking about how many days you've seen him stood at the counter, preparing food for you, and the others. It is guilt on your shoulders, but it is also relief and thankfulness. He is a warm presence, always answering the phone when you need him. "Can I help?"

He shrugs, "Sure, come and stir." So you join him, it is not a hard task, but you feel a little more like you're here. Helping.

Living and not existing. The creature at your ankle stirs and purrs, eased and happy.

You haven't heard it settle in such a long time.

"Thank you." You speak, staring into the pot, watching the swirling at the end of your spatula.

The man stands next to you and shrugs, unbothered, "Not a problem, kitten. I've told you, ask, demand, request. You can be greedy with me." He reaches over and flicks your forehead, before tapping your nose. "I'm always here for you. Even if you do let our food burn."

You panic as the heat bubbles over, and quickly turn it down, and he simply laughs at you. So you elbow him in the side, and revel in the way his laugh blossoms harder.

When you eat with everyone that evening, you help ladle out food, and set the table. You don't run away to the darkness of your room, and you add the laughter around you to your collection of reasons to keep moving.

70 notes · View notes

instant-delusions · 11 months ago

Note

OH MY GOSH are you a rafayel lover too 😭 i swear, i love him so much! and im happy that l&ds comnunity is growing here that a new ff of raffy is posted everyday when i refresh the tags! im glad u seem enthusiastic to accept requests 😔 my raffy brainrot is so bad i need my fix!

can i request? we know rafayel has some sort of "abandonment issues" and we know where it stems from and how it manifests (where he says mc can do what they want as long as they come back to him or let him know what they're doing 😭) and imagine that mc GENUINELY forgets bc she's tired from all the work as a hunter, and when she meets raffy again, he's quiet and she's trying to prod a word out of him but he won't budge cuz he's hurt 😭 and u can go on from there! aargh i love hurt/comfort so much.

happy valentines!! (in advance) 😔🎊🎂

YES rafa is my babygirl. my muse. my glubglubglub. my everything. HE'S SUPER RELATABLE TOO ??? HELP my abandonment issues are literally the same, I'm almost offended 😭😭💔 tysm for the request & happy early valentinesss 💓💓💓

ʟᴏ$ᴇʀ=ʟ♡ᴠᴇʀ !

rafayel x reader

cw: burn-out like symptoms, wounds/blood, arguing, cursing, hurt & comfort

𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧𓇼

6:00 a.m., you skimmed over rafayel's last message and told yourself to reply later - of course, as fate does, a super strong wanderer appeared which occupied you for an excruciating, multiple hour long fight. it was night when you returned home, stripping off your uniform and throwing your gun on the kitchen counter. You barely made it to bed, soaking your sheets in a bit of blood before completely passing out.

it was noon when you woke up again and evening when you were done with your report and bandaging your wound. finally, you were able to check your phone, and it doomed on you. rafayel's message stayed unreplied. you scrolled down his other three texts.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

11am rafa: are u ok?

12am rafa: (y/n), can I come over?

1pm: are u serious? not this again.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

you furrowed your eyebrows in regret, but exhaled painfully right after. your wound opened again.

you were forced on another, quicker mission that night, but it still left you exhausted, your former wound nagging at you still. once again you came home late, passed out, and woke up around noon. opening your phone, there were no new messages.

quickly, you pressed the call button and were shocked to find the artist wasn't picking up.

𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧𓇼

5:00 pm y/n: hey, sry rafayel. work has been a lot lately.

5:01 pm y/n: I'm rlly sorry

𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧𓇼

wincing, you sat down, your heart beating anxiously for some reason. 'what if this is it? I broke his promise. there's no reason for him to stay. it's fair, but I need him around. because...'

because you like him. it's selfish, you want him around although you barely fill his needs. suddenly, a very familiar dark cloud forms in your stomach and you feel depressed. deeming another relationship ruined by your work, you open social media to drown out the silence.

several hours passed until a knock at your door ripped you out your daze. quickly, you got up and open it. "rafayel." you say, his name coming out almost like a sigh of relief before you could register it. he was dressed in his white shirt, and white pants adorned with an intricate silver belt - he looked put together as always. you, on the other hand, were in an oversized tee, messy hair and deep eyebags with chapped lips. "hi." he simply greeted, making his way into your apartment.

you followed him, breathing anxiously at his unreadable aura. "listen, rafayel - I'm sorry, I wanted to reply and text you but.."

"you forgot." he replied, crossing his arms. there was a look of hurt and disappointment in his face. "it's not that simple." you argued, breathing in to continue, but he emotionally cut you off. "it is, though. (y/n), if you'd like me enough, a simple task like keeping me updated would be easy."

"rafayel. I like you, I like you a lot but..." you breathed in deeply, the harshness of his words getting to you enough to make your eyes teary. defeated, you sat down on your couch, burying your face in your hands. "these past days have been a lot, I could barely take care of myself and most of the time I was either fighting, passed out or tending to my wounds..." you trailed off weakly - due to your eyes being covered, you couldn't see rafayel's eyebrows raising in shock at your reaction, his arms slowly sinking.

"I swear if I'd have a normal life, I'd text you regularly, but it's not." slowly, you raise your head to meet his eyes - yours were puffy and red, tears streamed down your face. rafayel stayed silent, waiting for you to continue.

"it'd be selfish of me to wish for you to stick by me while i don't fulfill your needs, i know i'm not a good...friend. I try to do my best, rafa. you mean a lot to me, but i understand if you want to leave. you deserve someone better."

at this point, tears were streaming down your face freely, and soft sobs escaped your throat. rafayel lowered his gaze, afraid he'd sink to his knees and beg for forgiveness instead. after a while, he sat next to you, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours and brushing his thumb across your hand as he watched your body move with your sobs. "(Y/N), there is not a single part of you that is selfish."

gently, he holds your cheek and makes you look at him. his hand remains there as he continues talking.

"rather, it is me who is selfish. i crave your attention and validation, and feel hurt if i don't receive it. i'm sorry for being petty, i should've come over sooner. and..."

rafayel moves his hand to wipe away your tears and softly kisses your forehead, he smiles as he hears you breathe out softly.

"i could never bring it over my heart to part from you."

you gaze into his rich, magenta eyes and feel your heartstrings pull towards him. it's as if there were a bridge between your chests. closing your eyes, you feel your love for him blooming in the valleys of your bloodstream and bubbling out of your skin, and it weirdly feels as old as millenia, as if you'd known this love all your life, and all the lives you lived before.

"i'm glad." you smiled wobbly, "i feel the same." with a sigh, you leaned your head on his shoulder and let your body relax.

"i dunno how to feel about you calling us 'friends', though."

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #lads #rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #lads rafayel x reader #love and deepspace rafayel x reader

331 notes · View notes

yandere-fics · 4 months ago

Text

♡ You Try To Break Up With Raphael ♡

You were fed up with Raffie's coddling, it wasn't that you particularly enjoyed mingling with the others at court, you had expressed your distaste for it on several occasions but having her stop you entirely was a completely separate matter, just because the mingling could annoy you at times did not mean you wanted to stop doing it at all and it certainly did not give her the right to confine you to her estate and refuse to invite anyone over or allow you to go visit anyone else, this was not what you agreed to when she asked if she could court you and to you this just proved marriage with her would be a nightmare that you wanted no part in and so you packed your bags, preparing to tell her you were breaking up with her the next day, sure she might be allowed to restrict your movements while you were a couple but as soon as you left her she would have no right to meddle in your affairs and you would be free to attend all the crappy parties you wished, even if they were crappy, they were YOUR crappy parties and you missed that.

"Sunflower? Why have you packed? Do you wish to go on vacation, you seem overly packed for that though, you really should have let me pack for you-" You cut her off as she entered your room, that was the other thing about her that you had grown quite sick of, she never allowed you to do anything on your own, she did everything for you and treated you as if you were above doing things for yourself, made it very hard to be in a relationship with her when despite being the most important member of the royal advisor council, she acted like she was so far beneath you. Really she had no pride as a noble, bowing before you when you weren't even her wife yet.

"Raffie, I'm leaving, I'm breaking up with you." Her face fell, tears streaming down her face more than normal, the third thing you didn't like about her, she cried for everything. She cried because you stubbed your toe and she hadn't been able to stop it, cried because you graciously allowed her to sleep in your bed with you, cried because you did something just so beautifully, you couldn't do anything without her crying, it was frustrating.

"S-sunflower, no you c-can't leave, those filthy pests don't deserve you! I can't let you leave! J-just stay in your room until y-you've calmed down. I'll be back tonight with gifts, no one let my sunflower out!" She ran out of your room, slamming and locking the door behind her as if giving you time to cool down would make you want to leave her any less or as if some gifts would convince you to stay when all you really wanted was a bit more freedom. Well it looked like you wouldn't be getting your freedom anytime soon.

#yandere oc #yandere lesbian #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere scenarios #my oc raphael

76 notes · View notes

ghoastixx · 6 months ago

Note

you know the episode French Mistake? What if Dean and Sam get sent to the real world and find out their sister is dating someone else in the cast? Like Misha? Idk I just came up with this

The French Mistake

synopsis above

Notes: I literally LOVE episodes that I just get to copy the show and throw little old us in. It's so fun to write. I loved writing the mystery spot one, hoping this one is just as fun.

Author's note: Wasn't sure if you wanted the reader to be transported with sam and dean or not, but for the sake of this being more interesting to read and not just an episode of Supernatural, you get to teleport too. Made the reader Gender Neutral. R/N stands for "real name"

Warning: Spoilers for the end of The Godfather. Cas (Misha Collins) x reader kind of?????????)

For the sake of legality, I do not own the universe, plot, or characters of Supernatural. I am a mere fanficiton author.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a nice afternoon..quiet..not a hunt for once.. a minute to breathe. You were sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Bobby. Dean was at the table, Bobby out and about. Sam walked into the room.

"Where's Bobby?"

"Supply run," You yawned, responding to your brother Sam.

"In this?" Ah yes, the disaster you were in. You had almost forgotten. A shame you hadn't. Dean turned to look at your brother,

"Yeah, man's a hero. We were officially out of hunter's helper." The alcohol had run dry.

"Hello Winchester's. You've seen 'The Godfather' right?" A voice that didn't belong to any of you pulled you away from the dry conversation.

"Balthazar."

"You know the end, where Micheal Corleone sends his men to kill his enemies in one big, bloody swoop?" Balthazar was now messing with things. Pouring salt into a bowl on one of Bobby's desks. You sat up, ultimately confused as your brothers were seething.

"Hey!' Dean yelled,

"'Dead Sea Brine.' Good, good, good. You know, Moe Green gets it in the eye, and Don Cueno gets it in the revolving door?" what was even happening.

"I said 'hey!'"

"You did. Twice. Good for you." Balthazar started going through the fridge. "Blood of lamb.. beer, cold pizza, blood of lamb- yes! blood of lamb!"

You perked up, "Why are you talking about 'The Godfather?'"

"Because we're in it- right now, tonight. And in the role of Micheal Corleone- the archangel Raphael!"

"You mind telling us what you mean?" Dean barked

"no, no, no, no, no, no no." You rolled your eyes. "Yes. Bone of a lesser saint. This vertebra will do very nicely. You're Mr.Singer does keep a beautiful pantry." You looked down at the contents of Bobby's drawer which was now on the floor.

"Raphael is after you?" Dean asked. Sam was awfully quiet."

"Raphael is after all of us." He corrected, ""You see. he's consolidated his strength, and now he's on the move."

"And where's Cas?" Sam finally asked, which grabbed your attention. You missed the angel. He was your friend.

"Oh, Cassie? He is deep, deep underground. So, good old Raffy put out a hit list on every Samaritan who helped our dear Cas- including both of you. And so much more importantly, me. See, he wants to draw Cas out into the open." This made you frown. The thought of Cas having basically ruined his life.

"And you expect us just to believe you?" Sam asked, "Oh. Don't. You'll go where I throw you either way."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean was defensive and Sam was tense. You were trying to piece everything together.

"That's all the time we have Winchesters." He opened his jacket to reveal a wound.. he was bleeding pretty badly. You jumped up to retrieve the first aid kit, or more so what was left of it. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

There was some commotion behind you before there was a blinding light and the words that would ring through your ears "RUN." You were shoved through a window with your brothers.

When you opened your eyes it was so bright.. "Cut!" Suddenly there were people helping you up. Dean and Sam were also up and looked equally as confused. You looked over to see someone patting Dean's ass which made you cringe. You looked around. it looked like a t.v set of Bobby's house.

"Jared, Jensen, R/N! Outstanding! That was just great!" The Winchesters all looked at each other with shared confusion which made others around you giggle.

"'Supernatural,' scene one echo, take one. Tail slate. Marker!"

"What happened," Sam muttered, looking around.

"No angels?" You mumble

"No angels." Dean confirms. "I think."

There were people arguing about a scene, about how they 'jumped through the window.'

"What is even happening," You ask out loud,

"No idea." Sam replies. Dean picks up a piece of "window" which is really just fake. The other people keep arguing.

"Jared! Three minutes, okay!" Someone grabbed Sam by the hand, dragging him away.

"Jensen! There you are, let's get you in the chair." Someone drags Dean away.

"R/N," A voice came from behind one of the cameras. A man in a cardigan and a t-shirt underneath. He came up to you, smiling wide. "that was a really good shot, honey. Whenever everyone was reminiscing on Cas? Real heart tugger."

"Cas..?" This man looked so much like..well. A normal Castiel.

"yeah- are you feeling okay? Did you hit your head during the stunt?" You then spotted Sam.

"Uh- I have to go!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dude, they put freakin' makeup on us! Those Bastards!" Dean complained, practically clawing at his skin.

"Look, I think I know what this is,"

"Okay. What?"

"It itches-"

"It's a T.V. show-" As Sam and Dean pondered, you couldn't help but glance at the "normal Cas" that was talking to one of the guys.. this was.. awful.

"We- we landed in some dimension where you're Jensen Ackles." He pointed at Dean. "You're R/N" He points at you. "And I'm Jared Padalecki,"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The three exited the studio, you looked around in awe as Dean spotted the car.

"Oh, hey. Least my baby made it." You looked over to witness someone flinging mud onto it and the pained look on your brother's face.

"Hey. Hey! What-" There are three more impalas. "I'm gonna be sick. I want to go home. I feel like this whole place is bad-touching me." You nod in agreement as Sam agrees.

"yeah, I know. Me too. So, what do you think? Cas?"

You perk up, "Oh! I talked to a guy who looked like him earlier." You start to look around,

"So he's run his ass away from heaven here?" Dean spots him.

"cas? Cas! Hey, Cas! Oh, thank god. What is all this, huh? W-what did Balthazar do to us?"

The man you spoke to earlier approached, he looks stern. Like the Castiel you know. It made something in your chest tighten. "To keep you out of Virgil's reach, he's cast you into an alternate reality, a universe similar to ours in most aspects yet dramatically different in others."

"Like- like Bizarro earth, right? Except instead of having Bizarro Superman, we get this clown factory." The Cas looks a little confused.

"Um...Yeah, well...Anyway, no time to explain. Do you have the key?" You tilt your head, but Sam pulls out a key.

"So, uh, what does this thing do, anyways?"

"It opens a room."

"What's in this room?" You ask

"Every weapon Balthazar stole from heaven."

"he gave it to us?" Dean asks, almost hesitantly.

"To keep it safe until I could reach you. With those weapons, I have a chance to rally my forces."

You sigh relief, "Oh. Okay. good. Yeah, so now.. uh, what's the deal with all this T.V. crap?" Sam asks, a bit annoyed.

"pardon?" The Cas's brow furrows

"Yeah. Amen, Padaleski." You nod as Dean says this.

"Uh, 'Lecki'" Sam corrects.

"What?" Dean mutters,

"Lecki. Pretty sure."

The Cas pulled out a packet of papers, "Man. Did they put out new pages?" He mutters.

"New what?"

"I mean, is this some kind of cosmic joke?" You ask the Cas who looks up at you with an almost hurt expression.

"yeah, 'cause if it is, it's stupid and we don't get it." Dean backed you up. Sam agreed.

"Are you guys okay?" The Castiel imposter asked. Dean grabbed the supposed script from him, flipping through it.

"Give me that. What is- these are words in a script. This isn't Cas." You chest tightens again as hope drains from your face.

"Dude, look at him." Sam mumbles as the imposter unbuttons his shirt, wearing a graphic t-shirt underneath it.

"You guys want to run lines, or..?"

Dean reads the script. "His name's Misha..Misha?"

"Oh wow.."

"Just great-" The imposter looks at you again, he's only looking at you with these mixed expressions of deeper confusion. Dean continues rambling.

"Misha? Jensen? R/N? Whats up with the names around here?" As soon as Dean says this, "Misha" laughs a bit.

"You guys! You really punked me! Im totally gonna tweet this one." He pulls out a phone.

"What's a tweet," You whisper-ask Sam as "Misha" starts to read out loud.

"Hola mishamigos. J-squared...got me good."

"I just want to dig my finger in my brain and scratch until we're back in Kansas."

All three Winchesters begin to walk away before "Misha" yells. "Hold on, R/N! Are you still on for dinner tonight!?" You feel your cheeks start to red a bit as Dean and Sam look at you.

"Er- might have to reschedule-" You yell back as you turn away and quickly leave.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You all huddled into "Jensen Ackles" trailer. He had awful taste.. you all began to do research on yourselves. Jensen and Jared are interesting. Models and TV stars. They get to you.

"R/N.. Says here that you.. you were an actor. Also-" Sam looks up, glancing at Dean and then back at you. "You're also dating a Misha Collins." Your jaw drops.

"No way! Fake Cas!?" Dean exclaims, "That's probably why he asked you about dinner-" You bury your face in your hands. Sam clears his throat.

"Y/N, is there something you have to tell us..?"

"No!"

As Dean and Sam continue to talk about how they could possibly get out of here, you take the computer.. looking at pictures of you and Misha.. you two look happy together.. your chest tightens again.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were all losing hope as everything you tried was failing. All the ingredients Balthazar had used were now rubber.. the Impala was a prop.. nothing was working. So now you were trying to figure out what to do next.

"Me? Yes. um. I- I'll just tag along with uh-" Dean stuttered around. Misha and a crew member where standing in front of you.

"Jared."

"Jared...Jared here."

"Huh- since when are you guys talking?" The crew member asks as Misha looks at you,

"So..busy tonight?" You bite the frown that wants to crawl onto your face. You would like to have dinner with him, but you cannot just abandon your brothers for a man you don't even know.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Gonna work with Jared and..Jensen."

"I didn't know you guys were getting along again."

"Ah- you know...the way we are.."

"Well, call me if you need me to come get you," He kissed your cheek before leaving. You glanced at Sam and Dean as your face was red.

"I'll kill him." Dean muttered.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turns out Jared is filthy rich and is dating Ruby of all people. She seems a bit surprised to see you and Dean in the mansion. Saying neither of you have ever been there. She seems.. defensive. You all hole up in the library of the mansion and order stuff you need. The next day, you all go to the set of Bobby's house with a solution in mind and get permission to have the set cleared for a few hours.

When you and Sam show up to see cameras, you almost wanna vomit as Dean looks sheepishly away. He did not infect get the set cleared and the Misha guy was back. So.. you all have to do a little bit of acting. You're all awful at it.

Hours seemed to have passed and the Misha guy is still "tweeting" whatever that is. Then the day is over and you're all sent away again.. That was after you all attacked what you thought was Virgil.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the experience was all hazy to you. The Misha guy had ended up taking you back to your trailer and giving you some pills and that was all you really remembered. Sam and dean tried to explain how you got back, but it didn't make much sense to you. Not that you cared much anymore. There were more important things to focus on!

But Dean and Sam never let go the Misha guy, insisting something was going on between you and Castiel. You insisted there wasn't...

But..maybe the next time you saw Castiel..maybe you could pretend he was the Misha guy for just a minute longer.

(I'm sorry this ended so abruptly and lame. I worked on this for two hours and honestly didn't know how to finish it I'm sorry!!!)

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #spn #castiel x reader #castiel

71 notes · View notes

hpowellsmith · 26 days ago

Note

I'm head over heels for all the lovely characters you've written (especially Denario. Love him to death) thank you so much for bringing them to existence 💞💞 If you don't mind me asking, what does the HB and RA cast feel about PDA?

I'm so pleased, thank you so much! Honor Bound and Royal Affairs casts on PDA below:

Royal Affairs:

Asher: bashful but very into it

Beaumont: not into it unless it's discreet or restrained eg they prefer holding hands to long hugs or kisses in public

Dominique: enjoys it, will drape themself over their friends and loved ones at any opportunity

Hyacinthe: likes it if it's not too over-the-top - hugs, light kisses etc is OK, feels self-conscious with more involved kisses in front of others

Javi: depends on the situation, but hugs in public or something like backrubs or hair-stroking in semi-public is good

Trevelyan: they enjoy it, especially if someone might be shocked or tut at them

Honor Bound:

Denario: enjoys it, will happily make out, intensely sexy dance, or go under clothes in public

Fiore: is sort of into it depending who might be watching - they don't want to be embarrassed by someone saying something. Would kiss in public but doesn't generally want to go to the level where someone would cough meaningfully at them

Matia: has a high baseline for affection so is casually affectionate unless asked otherwise (arm around shoulders, cheek-kiss, etc); would happily make out or get more intense if the situation was right for it in public

Raffi: likes to be physically close with someone they're romancing so will sit close, lean, invite a romantic partner to put their legs over their lap, etc; will kiss or make out in public; would absolutely do more intense public stuff

Savarel: they like holding hands or hugging, or casual touch but probably wouldn't think of kissing in public other than as a greeting/goodbye unless it was an unusual situation

Varenn: does not enjoy it because it feels vulnerable, but they would give smouldering looks when in public

#interactive fiction #choice of games #honor bound

26 notes · View notes

yelenasdiary · 1 year ago

Text

Until Then

Pairing: Florence Pugh X Fem! Reader.

Summary: Attending Toby’s concert in Oxford you also go the chance to meet Florence.

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: mentions of a hangover.

Type: Fluff

Author Comments: This is a request from my old blog!

Excited was an understatement when your boss approved a couple of days off for the concert you had already brought tickets too, enough if he said no, you would’ve called in sick anyways. You’d been a fan of Toby Sebastian’s ever since Florence would post some of his music on her Instagram story. You were also clearly a huge fan of Florence Pugh’s acting. The concert was on a Thursday night, so you’d requested to have Thursday, Friday, and Saturday off from work to really enjoy your time. Wednesday night you packed your things and got ready for the train ride to Oxford early Thursday morning.

You’d heard around on social media that Toby & Florence’s dad owned a café in Oxford and you wanted to check it out once your train arrived you checked into the hotel that was a few blocks away from the club Toby was playing at then you made your way to Café Coco for some brunch. The café was slightly packed with younger people, some were taking photos of the wall which confused you slightly until you were able to see that Florence had written a message and signed it. “Table for 1?” the waiter greeted you as you took in the beauty of the café. “Yes please” you smiled as he then directed you to a table outside in the sun, he gave you a menu and told you the specials for the day before telling you he’d be back in a moment to take your order.

You ordered a Full English Breakfast and a hot chocolate. “We’ll get that out to you as shortly” the waiter smile as he took the menu back and wrote down your order on the little notepad. “Thank you, are you guys usually this busy?” you asked. “Yes and no, the owner’s son is playing the club down the road so that would explain the younger people taking photos of the wall inside” he gave a soft laugh before walking away. You flicked through social media as you waited for your order, you saw that Raffie had posted on her story that she as going to the show tonight, you weren’t surprised as it is her older brother. Toby had also posted about getting ready for tonight’s show which made you even more excited. Your attention was taken away from your phone when you heard a group of young adult’s squeal with excitement.

Looking up from your phone you saw a familiar face throw a soft smile at you when your eyes met. Your heart sunk as your mind froze. Florence was here, surrounded but a small group of young adults asking for photos and autographs. You gave her a soft smile back before her attention turned to the calling of her name. Were you dreaming or was this real? You thought to yourself before the waiter placed the plate of food in front of you. “Starstruck are we?” the waiter smiled as he noticed you had looked like you’d just seen a ghost. You blushed with a smile before looking up to the waiter, “I- n-…yeah” you finally admitted. The younger male chuckled, “you should go say hi, Flo super cool, we love her!” he placed your cutlery on the table and walked away. As much as you’d love to get up and say hi, you didn’t want to bother her and seeing as she already had a fair few people wanting her attention you decided to take that little smile, she sent your way as a blessing and dug into your brunch.

You’d been enjoying your night as Toby performed all your favourite songs, you sang along and sueded to the music, you were a in the 3rd row from the stage, you made sure to take plenty of photos and videos for your memories. As Toby was performing you couldn’t help but people in front of you whispering and pointing to your right. You turned your attention as you saw Florence feeling the vibes of the show, singing and dancing. Her attention was purely watching her brother doing what he loves, she had you in an awe moment.

Before the show ended, Toby had Raffie and Florence join him on stage to sing with him. The crowd loved it as much as you did. Midnight was such a vibey song for you, a song you’d listened too most mornings while getting ready for the day or whenever you were in the bath having a relaxing evening. You made sure to film that whole performance so you could always go back and watch one of your newly found memories.

After the show you decided to end to the afterparty, now with the hopes to say hi to Florence. Your nerves were strong as you saw her standing around some fans, taking photos, laughing with them, and hugging them. You knew if you had come with friends, you wouldn’t be this nervous just to say hello but being by yourself the room looked way to packed for you to process. You ordered a drink from the bar and found a spot to sit while you talked yourself up to go meet Flo.

“Hey there!” you heard a thick British accent break you from your thoughts. Looking up to see Florence smiling at you, her eyes sparkled with the dimed lights, “Hello” you smiled back at her. “I just wanted to pop over and say how much I love your outfit!” she complemented. “Really? Wow, thank you!” you replied completed stoked that she even noticed you with people surrounding her. “Did you enjoy the show?” she asked, slowly taking the seat across from you. “I did, thank you! Toby is amazing and so were you and Raffie! I’m so glad I came! Although I am sad it’s over” you chuckled a little at the end. “Over? It’s just starting!” Florence winked jokingly, “were you at coco this afternoon?” she questioned. “Coco?”, “the Café” she replied as you came to the realisation of what she was talking about. “Oh yes! I was” you laughed slightly, “it’s a lovely café” you added before smiling at her again. “It really is! I take it your from out of town?”, “I am! I’m just here until Saturday” you replied while looking at the necklace she had on. “Well I hope you enjoy your stay” Florence smiled back at you while she noticed your attention on her necklace.

“Do you like dragonflies?” she added. Quickly turning your attention back to her green eyes you nodded lightly, “I do, I think they’re really pretty and unique”. “Here, you should have this then” she spoke as she reached behind her neck and undid the latch. “Oh no, I couldn’t” you insisted, “how about you keep it and when we meet again you can return it?” she looked at you with a gently but loving smile, placing the golden necklace in your hand. “No, really, I can’t do that, I mean…. this is such a once in a lifetime moment for me” you replied, handing the necklace back. “Please, take it. Maybe in 10 years we meet again, until then, it is yours” she spoke, refusing to take the necklace. “What’s your name?” she added, “Y/n” you replied. “Well, Y/n, until we meet again, please keep the necklace” she smiled before getting up from her seat. “Thank you, you really didn’t have to do that” you smiled at her. “Have a wonderful night” she spoke as she walked past, tapping you on the shoulder.

Later that night as you laid in bed, dangling the necklace in front of you, you couldn’t believe the events that took place tonight. You met Toby, Raffie and Florence! You questioned why Florence was so insisted that you keep her necklace, maybe she liked the fact you didn’t crowd her or maybe she saw how much you liked the little pendant. Did she mean what she said? Could you meet her again in 10 years or so? Was fate that good, that strong? The thoughts kept you awake for hours, slowly making you more and more tired, soon drifting off to sleep wondering why Florence spent the time she did with you.

The following morning you decided to go back to Café Coco for breakfast, this time you ordered a breakfast tea and an omelette before making your way around the city doing some sight-seeing and shopping. “Back again I see” the waiter from yesterday smiled to you as he placed your tea in front of you, “what can I say? That food was banging!” you replied with a smile. “I’m glad to hear that” he chuckled, “your food shouldn’t be too much longer, yell out if there is anything else you need” he added before placing a bottle of water on the table. “Thank you” you said as he walked away. The café wasn’t as crowd as yesterday, in fact it was sort of peaceful how quiet it was currently. You sipped on your tea as you flicked through the news articles on your phone as the city slowly became louder and louder with the chitter chatter of by passers.

“Please tell me that’s tea and not coffee” you heard a voice over you, you looked up and were to surprise to see Florence standing there with a smile. “It’s only right to have a tea this early in the morning” you smiled back to her. “I totally agree, tea all day every day” she joked, causing you both to chuckle. “Is this seat taken?” she asked “please, be my guest” you replied with your hand out, gesturing her to sit. “How was the rest of your night last night? No hangover?” Florence asked as she sat down across from you once again. You tried to hide the blush that washed over you, here she was, sitting across from you, the green in her eyes shined through as the sun hit her face just at the perfect angle. Proud of yourself for not completely freaking out over the fact Florence was willingly wanting to have more than a 20 second encounter with you. “I had a great night, I didn’t drink that much but I think if I were here with friends than the story would be completely different” you replied, “Oh you’re here alone?” she questioned. “Yeah, none of my friends were able to score the day off work to come to the show last night so I came alone, although it’s not that bad, I can relax and do some sight-seeing without feeling like I’m boring them” you let out a soft chuckle.

“Oh no no no! I can’t let you see the city of Oxford by yourself!” Florence replied, “let me take you around, it’ll be fun, I can show you the real oxford and not whatever google says you need to see! What do you think?” she asked excitingly. “I don’t see why you!” you replied giving her another smile. “Perfect, we’ll have breakfast and head off”.

You almost forgot about the deal from last night, “oh before I forget! Here you go” you spoke as you pulled out the golden dragonfly necklace from your purse and handed it to Florence. “You said, until we meet again that I could keep this. Well, here we are, meeting again” you added as she slightly tilted her head and smiled. “Keep it, I think it might be the perfect story for the future” she spoke, leaving you confused on her comment. “Are you sure?” you asked, “of course, and if you don’t enjoy your time today then I’ll allow you to give it back” she explained just as the waiter came back with your food.

*Huge time jump*

“Darling! Dinner is ready” your wife called from the kitchen, “I’ll be there in a moment” you spoke back as you freshened up in the bathroom. You stood looking at yourself in the mirror for a moment as you fiddled with the necklace you wore daily, reminiscing on the day Florence made the comment of the necklace being the perfect story for the future. “Babe we’re waiting!” you heard your wife call once more. You smiled before you left the bathroom and made your way downstairs to the dining room. “Mumma look! We made spaghetti!” your daughter ran to you with her arms out. “It smells amazing” you smiled as you picked her up and placed her on your hip, “is everything okay my love?” Florence turned to you as she placed a bowl of salad on the table, “everything is perfect” you smiled before giving her a soft kiss, “ewwww” your daughter cringed at the scene causing you and Florence you chuckle.

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #fanfiction

184 notes · View notes