It was hard to choose, since I’ve been reading the ones other people have asked for and they’re reaaally good, and I didn’t want to request something that ended up being the same qwq.
So in the end, I decided on this: Whump #4 and Fluff #8 with Rafayel.
I want to see that man traumatized and crying, I want emotional aftermath, I want to see the consequences of actions and events, I want angst, I want hurt/comfort—and then I want him to be comforted by his dear Miss Bodyguard (bonus points if she also takes the chance to share a bit of her own trauma), because here in LaDS everyone’s got repressed trauma.
Thank you so much!!
I am always happy to write Rafayel whump for you! ^_^ I hope you enjoy this, thanks so much for sending in a request! <3
(Contains spoilers for Rafayel's Submerged Eclipse myth)
~~~~~~~
Rafayel wasn’t usually one to be affected by media, in fact, most stories he found boring or lacking in inspiration. But when his beautiful Hunter girlfriend had asked him to have a date night with her to watch this movie her coworker Tara had recommended, he couldn’t say no—especially since she would be staying over after and she had the weekend off.
He hadn’t expected the movie to end with the heroine sacrificing herself for her lover.
It was just a stupid movie. It was honestly so melodramatic and, in his opinion, the acting wasn’t even the best, but it put a pit in his stomach, leaving his snarky commentary to trail off during the last bit, as the Hunter beside him sniffled. He was glad for the dim lighting of the theater hiding his expression, giving him enough time to collect himself into some semblance before they left.
“What did you think?” she asked as they left the theater.
Rafayel attempted an indifferent sigh. “It was okay, I guess?”
“You didn’t think the ending was touching? Like, heartbreaking, yeah, but also bittersweet.”
He felt his stomach twist again. “It was stupid,” he said, a bit more bitingly than he had intended. “It’s not romantic to sacrifice yourself for someone. Because the person who’s left behind has to live with that for the rest of their life. Alone. If you really loved someone you’d let the world burn down for them.”
She looked at him with a frown, seeming surprised that he was so passionate about it.
“Okay, so you didn’t like it, that’s alright,” she said and took his hand in hers. “Thanks for coming with me anyway.”
He forced a smile, but it still felt hard to breathe as he squeezed her hand.
He thought he could forget it, could simply move on that night and enjoy the free time they had to make dinner together and play some silly games before bed, but Rafayel felt the long dormant ache coming back like a re-opened wound.
Even she seemed to see it, asking him if he was okay.
And he mustered a smile and poked her cheek. “Of course, cutie, just pretty tired. Thomas has been working me hard aaallll week.”
She seemed to buy it because she leaned in to kiss his nose. “You know, I’m pretty tired too. Why don’t we go to bed? Then we can get up early and go out to the beach to watch the sunrise.”
The sick ache returned, but he swallowed it down and nodded in agreement.
He’d hoped that he could let sleep wash away the ache, but he should have known better. He should have realized there was no escape from those memories that had haunted him for so long, through multiple lifetimes.
As sleep took him, he was right back there in the ocean, the sunrise dancing across the waves, hot against his back. Her hands closing around his, as she commanded him via their bond, forcing the dagger to manifest.
He watched in horror, as realization set in, watched as she turned the dagger toward herself. He fought to stop her, to defy the oath, but her hands guided his own forward, plunging the dagger into her heart.
He felt the pain through his own heart, clasped her to his chest as she faded away, nothing but seafoam, nothing left of his beloved bride.
His blood pounded through his ears like the clash of the waves as he jolted from sleep, her name caught in his throat, tears on his cheeks.
He gasped for breath, disoriented as he looked around the dark bedroom, reaching out.
The other side of the bed was cold. She wasn’t there.
Panic ripped him apart as he sat up, searching in the darkness, scrambling in the sheets, shouting her name. This wasn’t right, she was supposed to be here. She was supposed to be with him.
“Rafayel! What’s wrong?!”
He spun, and saw her standing there by the bed, illuminated in the moonlight, a look of concern on her face. She held a glass of water, her hair messy from sleep, wearing her cute fish patterned pajamas she kept as his place.
Rafayel lunged forward and yanked her to him in a panicked, crushing embrace.
“Hey! Aahh—”
The water spilled on the floor, but he didn’t care. She was warm, solid, and alive. Her familiar scent caught in his nose, soothing him as he buried his face in her neck.
“Rafayel.” Concern tinted her voice as she let her hands rest on his back. “What’s going on?”
“Don’t leave me,” he croaked, holding her tighter. “Please never leave me.”
Despite his inability to articulate in that moment, she seemed to see what he needed. She set the empty glass on the side table and pulled him back onto the bed, holding him close as he shook, the tears still sliding down his cheeks as he fought to pull himself back to the present.
“Did you have a nightmare?” she finally asked when he had calmed down. Her fingers carded through his hair, thumbs brushing away his tears, but the tension wasn’t leaving him.
“Would you ever choose to leave me?” he asked.
She pulled back a little so she could look him in the eye. “What? Of course not. Not forever.”
“And what if you had no choice—or, what if you had to choose between me and everyone else?”
“That’s not a fair decision without context, but I would never leave you on purpose, Rafayel.”
“Promise,” he said firmly, taking her hand and pressing it to his chest, right over the place his bond mark rested. “Promise you’ll never force me to let you go.” Again, he added silently.
“Rafayel, this nightmare…it’s not just from the movie, is it?”
He didn’t know what to say. How could he even explain all of this to her? It was too much even for him, most of the time.
“Hey,” she said and cupped his face in her hands, lowering her forehead to touch his. “Whatever happened between us in the past—whatever I may have forgotten—right now, I’m here with you, and I have no intention of going anywhere.”
“You have to promise me,” he insisted, pulling her closer.
She cupped his chin and met his eyes. “I promise to Rafayel that I will not leave him.”
He let out a shuddering breath and leaned forward to give her a soft kiss, savoring the taste of her.
When they pulled away she leaned back on the pillows, letting him rest against her.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he murmured.
She shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m not a stranger to nightmares. Especially ones that force you to relive all the things you never want to remember.”
He rubbed her hip soothingly, pulling her closer. “I guess we both have things we need to live with,” he said.
“It’s unfortunately part of the human experience,” she said with a wry smile, finding his hand and twining their fingers together. “But…we have each other, here and now. And I don’t plan on changing that any time soon.”
He took a shuddering breath, begging that would be the case, that something wouldn’t inevitably show up and rip them apart again.
“Rafayel?”
He looked up to meet her eyes in the darkness.
He sighed and brought their clasped hands to his lips, kissing them. “You’re right. Sometimes we need to remember to live in the moment, yeah?”
She wrapped her arms around him again and tugged him closer, tucking his head under her chin. “Feeling a little better now?”
He hummed, nuzzling closer to her. “As long as I have you, I’m always okay.”
Hiiiii leo buddy (because my bday is in August too 😁 rawr). Thanks for giving in your/our bday month, it's very sweet. Here's my request: Spicy #10 with zayne. Scenario: Mc dresses up as a sexy nurse for Halloween and surprises him in his home office while he's dealing with reports. She something like this.."ready for your check-up Dr 😉?"- while holding up a candy syringe with sweet jello in it.
(Imagine that's your hand 😄. Happy early or belated bday)
Ahh! Happy Birthday to you too!!! Thanks for the cute prompt, I hope you enjoy this ^_^
(Requests are open through the end of August! if you want to send an ask, you can see how to do that HERE)
~~~~~~~
I had just finished putting my outfit together and texted Tara that I was going to be leaving soon. I stepped in front of the mirror and took a quick picture to send to her.
What do you think?
Her reply came quickly
OMG you look so cute! And what does your doctor boyfriend have to say about it?
I smirked to myself, as I replied:
Gonna surprise him right now.
Oh, well, I won’t be surprised if you’re late then!
I rolled my eyes but tucked my phone into my purse as I checked my hair again, making sure the tiny little nurse’s cap was in place. I had tried to get Zayne to come to the Halloween party Tara was throwing. My vision had been Mad Doctor Zayne and his Nurse but he’d said he had to finish work before an early shift tomorrow so I was going solo. Even now, he was still at his computer in his office, typing away at reports.
I sighed, but grabbed the little bag of candy I’d put together for him as a work treat. He’d been working too hard lately, and I’d hoped he might take a moment to unwind, even though I knew parties weren’t his favorite thing.
It wasn’t like I was going to let him get away without having any fun, though. I still had a few tricks up my sleeve as well as treats.
I reached into the bag and pulled out one of the little jelly-filled syringes Yvonne had given me earlier as part of the hospital’s trick-or-treat party they put on for the kids. Feeling mischievous, I tucked it into my cleavage and left the bedroom before headed down the hall to Zayne’s office.
I could hear him typing away on his laptop as I opened the door and peeked in.
“Zayne, I’m about to head out,” I called.
He didn’t even bother to look up. “Have a good time. Let me know when you’re on your way home.”
Oh, that wasn’t going to do.
I pushed the door open fully and entered the room, hands on my hips. “ ‘Have a good time’? That’s it?”
He finally looked up and his brain looked like it short-circuited for a brief moment. He pulled his glasses down his nose and took me in as I stood there in the rather skimpy nurse’s dress with the addition of thigh-highs and heels. His ears instantly turned red.
“That’s…what you’re wearing?” he asked hesitantly. “It’s not very…accurate.”
“It’s not supposed to be accurate, silly, it’s supposed to be cute and sexy,” I chided, walking over to sit on the side of his desk, crossing my legs and pointedly nudging his thigh with my toe. “What do you think, doctor?”
He swallowed. “You look very good in it,” he said carefully.
I smiled coyly. “That’s very kind of you to say, Mr. Zayne, but a patient shouldn’t flirt with his nurse.”
Zayne raised an eyebrow, amusement flicking across his face. “Oh, so I’m your patient now?”
I nodded. “Yes, I hear you haven’t been taking very good care of yourself or getting much rest. Your girlfriend is very worried about you.”
“Is she?” he said, pushing back from the desk slightly to look up at me. “And what do you propose as treatment for my ailment, nurse?”
“I can hardly prescribe anything without having taken a closer look,” I teased, happy he was taking a break to play along. I shifted to sit in his lap, taking his face between my hands as I made my ‘examination’. “Hmm…your eyes have some very dark circles,” I said, tracing a finger under one of them. “Definitely a sign of exhaustion. Do you have trouble sleeping, sir?”
“Occasionally, yes,” he replied.
“I see,” I smirked. “Are you aware that…vigorous…exercise before bed helps you sleep?”
Zayne’s ears burned again and he cleared his throat. “I have heard that, yes.”
“Massage is also an option as something a little less…energetic.”
He cleared his throat. I slid my hand down to the jumping pulse on his neck.
“Why, Mr. Zayne, your pulse is so fast? Are you nervous? Or are you…excited?”
He huffed and reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a stethoscope. “Why don’t you check it more thoroughly?”
I grinned and put the stethoscope in my ears before unbuttoning a couple more buttons on Zayne’s shirt. His breathing hitched as I slid my hand inside and placed the bell over his heart.
I could clearly hear the fluctuations in his heartbeat and breathing, fascinated by the reaction Zayne was having. His hands came up to rest, one of my hip, the other on my thigh, squeezing a little as I pulled the stethoscope away.
“Have you decided on your prognosis?” he asked, voice a little husky.
I pretended to consider, keeping my face serious. “I think you are suffering from a very dangerous disease, Mr. Zayne.”
“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow. “That is unfortunate news.”
I smiled at him. “Luckily there is a treatment.” I pulled the candy syringe out from between my boobs and held it up for him. “Will you be good and take your medicine for me?”
Zayne huffed a fond laugh, shaking his head, but he complied, opening his mouth.
I administered the ‘medicine’ and barely let him swallow before I ducked in for a kiss.
Zayne’s grip on me tightened, pulling me closer until I was pressed against his chest. I plucked his glasses off as they bumped against my nose and Zayne groaned softly as he deepened the kiss. His tongue teased at my mouth, tasting like the overly sweet strawberry jelly.
I shifted to straddle him, pressing him back in the chair as one hand tangled in my hair, the other teasing the garter just under my skirt, threading his fingers under it.
When we finally pulled away, breathless, and my outfit more than a little in disarray, Zayne smiled, chest still heaving and pulse much quicker than it had been before. We both hesitated and I glanced half-heartedly at the clock, wondering just how late I could politely be.
Zayne gave a fond chuckle and patted my hip. “Have fun at the party, darling,” he said.
I hesitated but realized he also had work to finish and started to stand up. “Thanks. I’ll call you when I’m on my way home, but you better be finished with your work by then,” I chided.
“I will endeavor to do my best,” he promised, keeping me standing between his legs for a moment longer. “But I must say…it would be remiss of you to not finish your patient’s treatment when you return.”
I leaned down to give him one more kiss. “Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Zayne. I have every intention of administering your final treatment when I get home.”
He caught my wrist as I made to leave and gave me a small smirk. “Keep the outfit.”
I flushed, grinning to myself as I promised I would.
Hey @queenraikichi94 ! (I'm answering this on my sideblog because this is where I post spicier content) but hope you enjoy this!
I felt like date night with Sylus must include a car chase and a gunfight XD
(Requests are only open for a couple more days! (until September 1st) if you want to send an ask, you can see how to do that HERE)
~~~~~~~
It had started out as a regular date night. Sylus had picked her up in a beautiful classic car she had never seen before, and tucked her hand into his elbow as he led her into the restaurant, disguising the fact that she wobbled a little in her heels. She couldn’t remember the last time she had worn a pair of heels—maybe never? But Sylus had simply laughed fondly.
“You look beautiful,” he told her sincerely and she knew her face was instantly red.
She’d been so busy at the LCBI since Sylus had rigged the mayoral election, it seemed like new protocols for dealing with the Praedators were being established every day, giving her and her fellow Enforcers even more work to do. And giving her and Sylus very little time to spend together after confessing their feelings.
But though the dinner had been elegant—and delicious—and it was nice to act like a normal couple for once, the night had inevitably ended on a more violent note.
No sooner had they left the restaurant, then Sylus had received a call. He replied curtly before tucking the phone back into his pocket and turning to her with a familiar glint in his eye.
“Sorry, sweetie, but it looks like there’s trouble. Do you want me to take you home?”
She scoffed. “Not a chance.”
Sylus’s smirk curled the corner of his mouth as he opened the small trunk on the car which was packed with guns and ammo. “You sure it won’t ruin your delicate Enforcer sensibilities?”
She grabbed a pistol and started loading it. “I think I’ll manage.”
Sylus reached into the back of the car and plucked out a pair of combat boots in her size, holding them up for her. “You drive.”
Not long after, they were racing through the streets. She kept her foot firmly on the gas, her hands on the wheel and gearshift precise. Sylus, once again dressed in his leather Praedator outfit, watched the mirrors to gauge their pursuers.
“Keep going,” Sylus said, as he opened the window and leaned out.
“But you—”
“I can keep steady, just keep driving. Don’t hold back.”
That was all she needed to hear, letting Sylus’s training take over as she slammed her foot into the gas, shifted the car and grabbed the hand break as she expertly sent them around the corner.
Sylus shot, hitting the lead car’s tires, which forced the next two in pursuit to swerve in order to not run into it.
She effortlessly tossed him another gun so he wouldn’t have to reload.
“I’ll lead them down to the river,” she said.
Sylus nodded, taking several more shots to keep them on their toes before he handed the pistol back to her and reached under the seat for a rifle he had stowed there. “Time for the main event.”
He stretched up, opening the sunroof.
“Keep her steady,” he instructed, bracing his knee on the seat and pulling out a rifle, steadying it against his shoulder as she kept the car fixed on its path down the long stretch of road, adrenaline pounding in her veins.
Before Sylus could take a shot, however, she caught sight of one of their pursuers barreling toward them from a side street.
“Sylus, hold on!” she shouted as she swerved to avoid collision.
Sylus grunted as he was thrown against the roof of the car. But though the other car hadn’t crashed into them, one of their pursuers had tossed something out the window.
It hit the side of the car and exploded into smoke, briefly blinding her as it coated the windshield.
But that was the least of their worries as she caught the familiar scent.
Frenzy enhancer…
“Sylus!” she cried, hearing him cough, growling.
The gun fired and the pursuing car skidded away, crashing into a power pole and flipping over.
She scrambled for her purse where she had some suppressants, but Sylus was already crawling out of the sunroof.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Keep going, I’ll be back.”
She felt his boots hit the roof before he leapt off. She glanced at him in the rearview mirror as he stood in the center of the road and lowered his rifle at the oncoming cars.
She made her decision, perfecting another hand break turn in an empty intersection and circling back toward Sylus just as he took out one of the other cars.
She picked up the gun from her lap and leaned out the window shooting through the windshield of the other one. It swerved and the two crashed together.
She could see just one more car in the distance and skidded to a halt beside Sylus. “Get in.”
He wrenched the door open and climbed into the seat as she sped on her way toward the river.
Sylus’s breathing was labored, the glint of frenzy in his eyes.
“How bad?” she asked.
“Didn’t breathe a lot of it,” he gritted out, hands clenched around his gun.
She glanced behind them and made sure the car was still following closely. “You ready to end this?”
Sylus re-loaded his gun and grinned wildly. “Hell, sweetie, you know how to show me a good time.”
She laughed, heart pounding as she slammed her foot into the gas and watched the speedometer climbing, climbing…
The car was in fast pursuit, following so closely, they wouldn’t be able to see anything else in front of them but taillights.
She watched the barrier for the river getting closer and closer, then at the last possible second, she finally turned, tires screeching like tortured souls.
The pursuing car had no chance. They slammed through the barrier and went directly into the river below.
She finally slowed down, coming to a stop, panting as her body sang with exhilaration.
“Holy shit.”
She got out of the car to glance over at the sinking vehicle, watching the burst of bubbles as it slid under the surface.
“Guess that’s it then,” she said, turning back.
Sylus was out of the car too, chest heaving with unsteady breaths.
“The suppressors,” she breathed, before he caught her, hemming her in against the car as he trapped her between his arms.
“Sylus—”
“Shh,” he growled, leaning in to breathe in her scent, nuzzling against her neck. His teeth grazed her skin, making her shiver. “Will you run from me, little bird?”
She was still high on adrenaline, and though Sylus was obviously frenzied, he seemed to be in control of himself. She felt her own fever take hold as he nipped at her bare shoulder, playing with the strap on her dress.
“No,” she replied simply.
That was all he needed to hear. He picked her up effortlessly and opened the back of the car, tossing her inside.
She pressed against the opposite door as Sylus crowed in, a growling purr deep in his throat as he leaned in to catch her mouth in a hungry kiss.
His teeth nipped at her lower lip and she tugged on his hair, pulling back briefly to bite at the join of his neck and shoulder.
Sylus groaned and yanked her under him, looming over her as his calloused hand caressed her throat, gentle despite the frenzy burning through his body.
“You’re so perfect,” he whispered huskily, sliding his hand down her body, pausing as he started to slide it under her dress, even in this state, asking permission.
She yanked him closer, capturing his mouth in another kiss as she wrapped her legs around him, locking the heavy boots against his ass.
“Don’t hold back,” she insisted, a little breathless.
Sylus growled, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Sweetie, with you, I couldn’t even if I tried.”
For the Love and Deepspace ficlet requests, could I request Rafayel whump #5 (captured) and spicy (tied up)? It doesn't even have to be spicy, I just wanna read about that boy being bound and gagged. It'd be nice to have the MC come in to rescue him, but I'll leave what happens up to you.
Of course there will be a rescue ^_^ Always love writing Rafayel in Distress, I hope you enjoy <3
(Requests are open through the end of August! if you want to send an ask, you can see how to do that HERE)
~~~~~~~
It had been two—no, three?—days that Rafayel had been kept in this dark room. He honestly didn’t know, had no way to mark the time, and it didn’t help that his head was constantly spinning from the drug they gave him to suppress his Evol. They were all too diligent with his doses too. Every time he felt like it might be leaving his system, they would give him another dose. Otherwise, he would have been able to burn through the ropes that held him by now.
As it was, he’d been bound hand and foot the entire time, his limbs numb and rubbed raw from his constant struggling.
He was really going to have to talk to Thomas about event invitations from now on. None of this would have happened if his supposedly well-meaning manager hadn’t insisted he attend a gallery he’d been invited to as a special guest. Special guest his ass—they’d lured him in with obviously nefarious reasons, showed off Lemurian artifacts and then taken him captive. Okay, maybe Rafayel had been a little dumb to follow someone into a private room, but he hadn’t expected them to have Evol suppressing drugs that they had used on him the second his back was turned.
If only his Miss Bodyguard had been able to attend with him, this never would have happened. But she had been away on a mission for the Association.
Just thinking of her brought an ache of longing to Rafayel’s heart. He wanted to see her more than anything. Was she worried? He was sure she would know he was missing by now, she would have been the first one Thomas called. Was she tearing the city apart looking for him? Would she find him before his captors enacted whatever plan they had for him?
So far, they hadn’t done much more than drug him and keep him locked up. He was only allowed up once a day to use the bathroom when his gag was also removed so he could drink water.
None of it was enough though. He was dying for a drink—for a bath. His skin was drying out, dehydration mixed with the drug making his head ache horribly. The cloth gag was like sandpaper against his tongue, drying his mouth out even more. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so annoying when he had first been captured, causing his captors to gag him constantly. But it wasn’t like he was just going to go down without a fight.
He caught the sound of footsteps outside his door and tensed as the lock was disengaged.
He squinted against the sudden light as the door was opened, two of his captors entering the room with a third man he hadn’t seen before. He wore an expensive suit, shiny shoes stopping a couple feet from where Rafayel lay, helpless.
“This is the Lemurian?” the man asked skeptically. “He doesn’t look like much.”
“We have him drugged at the moment so he can’t cause trouble, but I promise you he’s the genuine article.”
“Hm, I’ll be the judge of that,” the man muttered. “Can you pull him out into the light?”
Rafayel’s captors stepped in the grab his arms, dragging him out of the room and into a parlor, throwing him onto a couch.
Rafayel’s heartbeat picked up as the man in the suit approached him, pulling something out of his pocket—a small vial which he unstoppered.
“If he really is Lemurian, this will let us know.”
He pushed the vial under Rafayel’s nose and the artist instantly recoiled, moaning against his gag. The smell was so familiar, surging through him, causing him to lose himself.
He could feel his scales appearing, it got harder and harder to breathe.
“Well, would you look at that,” the man in the suit muttered, reaching out for Rafayel’s collar, pulling it open to reveal the shimmering scales on his skin. Rafayel tried to squirm away but the man simply ripped his shirt fully open.
Rafayel grunted in protest, glowering up at the man as his hand slid down Rafayel’s bare chest, groping at the scales on his ribs.
Rafayel brought his bound legs up, kicking at him.
The man stepped back with a chuckle. “You’re right, he’s the genuine article, all right. I’ll take him.”
Rafayel’s eyes went wide and he shouted a protest muffled by his gag as he watched the man sign a check and hand it over to his captors.
“I’ll have my man pull the car around,” the man in the suit said casually as he reached down again to mockingly stroke Rafayel’s cheek. “You’re going to be a nice addition to my collection, little fish.”
Rafayel swore at him past his gag, panic setting in. Another man came in and simply picked Rafayel up, throwing him over his shoulder as the man in the suit followed them out of the house toward a car.
“Trunk will be fine, I think,” the man said.
Rafayel felt the panic rise further as he was dumped into the trunk, squirming as much as he could before the trunk was closed, leaving him in pitch darkness.
He fought for breath, the gag making it extremely difficult. He couldn’t panic, he had to stay calm. Whatever was coming—and he was sure it wouldn’t be good—he needed to stay calm, he couldn’t lose himself now. His Hunter was still out there somewhere, and he had no doubt that she would find him.
The car started moving, and Rafayel made an extra effort to escape the ropes, trying to find anything remotely sharp in the truck. He only managed to make his wrists bleed, and instead started to kick at the trunk. If he could kick out a taillight, maybe someone would see.
The car suddenly slammed to a halt, sending him flying against the side of the trunk with bruising force.
Rafayel grunted, shaking his aching head as he heard voices from the front of the car.
“What the hell? Did that idiot just stop in the middle of the road?”
“They’ve been trying to get around us for the past mile and this is what they do?”
“Hey, what the hell is happening—drive! Go!”
There was a loud bang and the car lurched to the side as if something had struck it. Rafayel let out a sharp cry, again tossed around in the back, but the impact seemed to have been to the front of the car.
He lay there, frantic to know what was happening, until he heard a voice.
“I’m checking the trunk! Make sure they can’t get out.”
Miss Bodyguard.
Rafayel didn’t know if he was hallucinating or not, but the trunk was suddenly yanked open, light pouring in and blinding him.
He heard a gasp. “Rafayel!”
He blinked his eyes open as hands found him, pulling him toward the light, cupping his face, instantly working to remove the gag.
“Cutie,” he managed to croak as the fabric left his mouth, blinking up at her, vision blurry.
Her eyes grew damp as she hauled him into her arms, holding him tight. “You idiot! How dare you worry me like that!?”
He leaned against her, exhausted, relieved. She only pulled away briefly to pull out a knife, cutting the ropes around his ankles and wrists.
“Can you stand?”
“I…don’t know,” he said truthfully.
She helped him try, guiding him over the side of the trunk. He didn’t have far to go, thankfully, wobbling with his arm around her shoulders, feet numb as she helped him into the back of a van.
“Yes, Talia, we have him, he’s fine.”
Rafayel saw Thomas giving him a relieved look, standing off to one side on the phone.
His Miss Bodyguard helped him into the back of the van and he laid against the seats as she gathered his hands in hers, already reaching for a first aid kit to start tending his raw wrists.
“What did those bastards do to you? How long have you been tied up? Your hands are swollen…”
Rafayel suddenly leaned forward and kissed her, stopping her worried questions, her hands stilling in his.
“It’s all good now that I’m back with you,” he said with a sigh, nuzzling her cheek. “Please just…hold me right now?”
She abandoned the first aid kit and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. Rafayel sank against her with a sigh, taking in her familiar scent, finally feeling himself calm down.
All right, for the fic request thing, how aboooooout
"Nightmare" and "Stay With Me" for Catch-22 Rafayel?
Always happy to do Catch-22 AU! Hope you enjoy ^_^
(Just a few more hours to get a request in! I will be closing them at midnight PST (august31-september1st) If you want to send an ask, you can see how to do that HERE)
~~~~~~~
For the most part, living with Rafayel wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Even though he had led to us getting calls from my landlord after making a pile of captured Praedators on my balcony, I couldn’t deny that the rewards for those bounties were good—good enough to pay said landlord three months in advance, which left him a little more congenial.
Rafayel was actually pretty low maintenance too. As long as I had honeydew yogurt drinks stocked up, he was happy.
Even now, he had fallen asleep on the couch after dinner, likely exhausted from another round of weapons testing the LCBI had forced him to do that day.
I stood there watching him sleep for a few minutes. He looked innocent curled up on the couch, more like a stray cat than the SSS-Class Praedator he was. I stared at the scrapes and bruises visible on his face and hands and felt anger well in my chest as it always did when I watched him fight for his life during the tests. If only I could get him out of there—if only I could get both of us out of there, but I knew it wasn’t that simple.
I grabbed the throw from the back of the couch and spread it over him. He snuffled a little in his sleep, cuddling into the blanket. I couldn’t help a small, sad smile as I turned the light off and went to bed.
It didn’t take me long to fall asleep. I, too, was exhausted and my body had taught itself to get rest when it could. But even so, something woke me in the middle of the night.
I sat up, disoriented, as I tried to figure out what had woken me up.
It was then I heard a strangled cry, followed by a whimper.
I instinctively reached for my gun as I got out of bed to investigate. Had Rafayel gone out to hunt Praedators again? I’d told him not to bring them back to the apartment…
Frustrated, I yanked open my bedroom door to see what was going on out in the rest of the apartment, but I didn’t see a pile of Praedators on the floor again. There was just Rafayel, illuminated by the dim moonlight coming in from the window. He was tossing and turning on the couch, the blanket tangling around him.
“Rafayel?” I called, putting my gun away before I approached.
“St-stop,” he whimpered, hands coming up as if to shield himself. “D-don’t, please…”
I was torn, unsure of whether I should wake him or not, not entirely sure how he would react, but the crumpled look of pain and anguish on his face changed my mind. I leaned over him, grabbing one of his hands.
“Rafayel, it’s okay. It’s just a dream.”
He startled, freezing under my touch, cowering away from me as soon as his eyes opened, bright in the darkness.
I quickly reached over to turn on the lamp. Rafayel turned away, cringing at the sudden brightness, but he quickly blinked, finally looking up at me with recognition.
“Hey…you okay?” I asked hesitantly.
He looked around the room, his breathing still a little quick, a sheen of sweat on his brow. I headed into the kitchen to get him something to drink, giving him a moment to adjust.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said quietly as I returned to his side and handed him the glass of water, his hand shaking just slightly as he took it.
I took a seat on the coffee table, reaching out to help untangle him from the blanket. He seemed strangely docile as I did, a confused frown pinching his brow.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I finally asked.
He was silent, contemplating. As the stretch of silence continued I didn’t expect him to reply, but he finally opened his mouth and said, “I don’t remember anything from before I became…this. Before I became a…killing machine.”
I paused, folding my hands in my lap as I listened. “It had to have been a traumatic experience,” I assured him.
He shook his head, the furrow deepening. “But I…I dream things sometimes. I remember…getting attacked—I think I remember, anyway. I can never hold on to the memories after I wake up, but I remember feeling terrified and alone.”
My heart broke at the simple way he admitted it.
“I don’t like feeling like that,” he said. “I don’t even remember if I had anyone before. I don’t know if they died or abandoned me after I was turned.”
The ache grew. From what I had been able to find out about Rafayel’s past he hadn’t had any living relations even before the Praedator outbreak. But thinking about him being alone back then with no one to care that he was turned outside of the people who were fans of his opera work was…devastating to say the least.
I reached out and took the undrunk glass of water away from him, taking his hand. Rafayel surprised me by clinging desperately to me, looking up with a forlorn, wide-eyed expression.
“Will you leave me someday? Will you abandon me too, Miss Enforcer?”
My throat closed, making it hard to reply. I swallowed and shook my head. “No, of course not. I’m stuck with you, remember?”
The teasing fell flat and his grip tightened.
“What can I do for you, Rafayel?” I asked softly.
He looked away. “Stay with me?”
I was slightly surprised at his request. But I found that I really didn’t want to leave him alone tonight anyway. I silently shifted to the couch, using the other half of the throw to put over my lap. I reached for the remote and turned the television on for some background noise.
Rafayel scooted over to my side and leaned against my shoulder. I froze at first, but as his weight rested heaver and heaver against me, eyelids drooping, I tucked an arm around him and pulled him closer.
I had no idea what the future held for either of us—probably nothing good. But tonight, I promised to keep the nightmares at bay.
Do you remember in the cat butler event how the boys' evol was kinda removed due to the cat curse? Also how MC and Sylus went on a mission while he was still under the curse?
Well, could I get a whump #5 (captured) and #9 (stay with me) please?
I've actually been wanting to do a whumpy story related to Sylus's card so thank you for this XD Hope you enjoy!
(Requests are open through the end of August! if you want to send an ask, you can see how to do that HERE)
~~~~~~~
Sylus’s brow furrowed as he made his way toward Snowy Owl’s lounge. Normally missions wouldn’t bother him at all, especially one so cut and dried, but with his mischievous kitten’s plan having been more successful than he had expected, he was apparently now the ‘property’ of this elusive black-market dealer they were after. On top of that, he couldn’t currently use his Evol which was admittedly unnerving him more than he wanted to admit—especially since he was playing the bait.
Still, he trusted his Miss Hunter to get her job done and come to his rescue before things got too crazy. If he had to distract Snowy Owl for a few minutes by letting her fondle his ears then he supposed he would have to endure.
He knocked on the door to the lounge, straightening up as he waited.
The door was soon opened by a plain-clothes bodyguard who checked him for weapons before stepping aside to let him in.
“Ah, there you are.”
Sylus glanced up at the person he assumed was Snowy Owl. She was a middle-aged woman, still wearing her evening dress from dinner as she sat on the couch in the lounge, a glass of wine lazily held between her fingers.
She lifted her other hand and crooked her finger to beckon Sylus over. “Come here.”
He moved, and stopped a few feet in front of her, bowing politely. “My lady, I am at your service.”
She sat up straighter, her eyes roaming him in appreciation before pointing to the ground. “Kneel.”
Sylus bristled slightly but obediently knelt at her feet—a position the leader of Onychinus was not at all familiar with. Snowy Owl set her glass aside and snapped to her bodyguard who brought over a flat box, which he opened for her. She smiled as she pulled out an ornate collar, studded with rubies.
“This will make sure you cannot leave my side from now on,” she said, fixing it around his neck just a little too tightly to be comfortable. Sylus set his jaw. “What is your name?”
“Sylus, my lady,” he replied.
“Hmm, I’m not entirely fond of it. I’ll have to think of something more suited to you.”
“Whatever my lady wishes,” he replied with a glint in his eye, making to stand up again, but she caught his collar, stopping him.
“Stay, kitty, I didn’t say you could leave.” She leaned forward and ran a hand through his hair.
Sylus instinctively pinned his ears back in distaste, but her fingers found them anyway, caressing the delicate appendages.
“They are just as delightful as I imagined,” she said, a little breathless, bringing up her other hand to fondle the other, squeezing his ears almost painfully.
Sylus grunted and made to pull away before her grip tightened, making him stop as pain shot through his sensitive ears.
“No, stay still and let me enjoy myself,” she said in a low, no-nonsense voice, hauling him forward so that he nearly fell against her knees. “I don’t know how lenient your previous mistress was, but from now on, you will come when I call, do as I ask, and indulge me when I want, understand?”
Sylus’s tail thrashed in annoyance as he forced a dangerous smile. “Of course, my lady.”
She hummed, eyes narrowing. “You must be a little nervous, I understand. I can allow some time to adjust to your new environment and mistress.”
She reached for a cat toy that had been sitting on the couch, and teased the feathers across his face. The action was not so different from the little ‘rehearsal’ he had endured earlier but an oddly alluring smell came from the toy. Sylus’s nostrils flared and Snowy Owl brought it to his face, swiping it under his nose.
“Mm, my lady…” he mumbled trying to pull away, alarm bells going off in his head, telling him he shouldn’t inhale.
“It’s just some catnip,” she told him. “It will help you calm down.”
He shook his head, and caught her wrist, just barely remembering not to squeeze too hard. “My lady, I assure you I am quite at ease,” he said tightly, as he forced a smile.
She smirked, tickling his chin annoyingly with the feathers. “Hmm, well, if that’s the case then you’ll be good and allow me to play with your ears some more.”
It was obviously an order, making Sylus bristle further, but he had to buy time and keep her distracted. He forced his ears to unpin from his head and perk up invitingly, inclining his head toward Snowy Owl’s waiting hand.
The feeling of her fingers in his hair and on his ears made his skin prickle, an unpleasant tingle going down his spine. But he endured, letting her coo over him as if he were nothing but a housecat.
“You’re much more well-trained than I thought,” she commented. “I assumed you would be a little harder to tame, especially with a new mistress, but you’re quite docile.”
Sylus’s eyes narrowed as he smiled, the look undeniable dangerous, but before Snowy Owl could comment, another plain-clothes bodyguard entered the room and hurried over to her with an apology.
“My lady, I just got word from the staff that someone was seen entering your room. Did you send someone for something?”
Snowy Owl sat up straighter and Sylus froze, instantly alert.
“No, I did not—ah…what are you doing?”
Sylus took the opportunity to grab her hand and nuzzle it in an attempted distraction. He looked up at her from half-closed eyes, ears twitching.
“Don’t stop, my lady,” he purred.
But he saw her face change instantly and knew he had made a mistake. Her fingers bit into one ear, yanking it so his head was forced down. Sylus grunted.
“Did that little wench send you here as a distraction?” she demanded.
Sylus growled and swiftly extricated himself, making to stand up.
Snowy Owl was ready though. She grabbed his collar to yank him back and forced a handkerchief over his nose and mouth.
Sylus tried to pull away but the handkerchief bore a more intense version of the scent from the cat wand. It seemed to be soaked in catnip oil.
He was forced to inhale, feeling the fuzzy dizziness overcome him.
He swayed, collapsing completely to his hands and knees before he sucked in a breath, attempting to clear his head. How was some herb affecting him so badly? This cat curse really had weakened him.
Sylus pushed himself up, turning to the door. He didn’t know if his Hunter had finished her mission or not but he was not about to let her get caught unawares.
“Stop him.”
Before Sylus could make it halfway, he was halted by the bodyguards. He swung, landing several heavy blows even in his discombobulated condition, but they pulled collapsible batons from their coats and forced him down with several well-placed blows, a final one to the back of his head finishing him.
Sylus rolled onto his back, head pounding, blinking blearily upward to see Snowy Owl looming over him. He snarled, trying to roll away as she crouched and hooked a leash to his collar, tugging so hard she nearly strangled him.
“Come. Bad cats get punished. It seems you do need some taming after all.”
She forced Sylus back over to the couch, where he had no choice but to rest against her knees, panting, his head swam from the catnip and the blow he had endured.
He had never felt this weak before and it was sickening. He could only watch helplessly as the bodyguards made their way out of the lounge. But without the ability to use his Evol there wasn’t much he could do.
Come on, sweetie, he pleaded. Get out of there.
Sylus gritted his teeth as a hand gripped his chin and wrenched his head back so he was forced to look at Snowy Owl’s smug face.
“Look how helpless you are to resist,” she cooed with a sadistic glint in her eye. “I’m going to have fun breaking you in. Soon you’ll be my good, obedient cat.”
She held his leash tightly as her other hand found his ears again, tugging and squeezing unpleasantly. He knew he wanted to struggle, but for some reason every inhibition he had was meaningless. He was disgusted that the catnip was affecting him so badly.
The door opened and Snowy Owl called out, “Well? Did you find the little thief?”
Her voice trailed off though, and Sylus rolled his head over to see, with relief, that his Miss Hunter was standing there with a strange spray bottle in her hand.
His lips opened to say her name, but Snowy Owl tightened her grip on his leash and constricted his breathing, choking him. Fury washed over her features.
“You little bitch,” she snarled.
His brave Hunter stepped forward, fury in her eyes. “Let him go.”
Snowy Owl laughed, standing up to face her. “I bought him fair and square, remember? Or did you not get what you came for?”
A scoff came from the other woman. “You really think you can handle him? You have no idea how to tame my butler.”
Sylus couldn’t help a small smirk.
Snowy Owl gave her a patronizing look. “Care to enlighten me?”
There wouldn’t be any enlightening, however, because a Hunter’s aim was always true, and this time was no different. A fine spray shot from the can she was holding into Snowy Owl’s face and the woman dropped almost instantly.
The Hunter wasted no time, running to Sylus, kneeling in front of him and quickly freeing him from the collar.
“Sylus? Are you alright? What did she do to you?”
To her shock, the large man simply grabbed her and pulled her tightly to him. His tail wrapped around her waist as he leaned back against the couch, breathing in her scent as his face rested in the crook of her neck.
“Sy?” she asked softly.
“Stay with me,” he murmured simply.
He didn’t have to admit that he was feeling so incredibly not like himself in that moment, that he was struggling, dizzy, didn’t trust his own actions. His body too loose, too unpredictable, too slow. She already knew that, and wasn’t about to leave him alone.
Her fingers threaded through his hair before gently scratching at the bases of his ears. Unlike with Snowy Owl, the action calmed him and he let out a hum that was very nearly a purr.
The Hunter settled more comfortably against him, letting him know that he was secure.
“Don’t worry about anything right now,” she told him. “I’ll take care of it all until you’re back to yourself.”
He nuzzled into her neck, feeling a little less dizzy as he closed his eyes, embracing the fuzzy feeling for the moment, knowing that it was okay to let his guard down around this Hunter alone.
Hello dear Lady Wallace, happy birthday!! I hope you have a wonderful birthday whenever it is! Thank you for all the amazing fics you write and share and feeding all your readers sooo well especially on YOUR birthday. Could I please request Xavier getting fluff #8 and any whump prompt you want? I'm so weak for long comforting hugs 💗 Tysm!!!💕💕 I hope you get all the birthday gifts and happiness you deserve!
Thank you! I had a great month <3
For the whump prompt I decided to choose 'nightmare' Hope you enjoy some angsty Xavi getting hugs ^_^
~~~~~~~
Xavier was usually a pretty heavy sleeper. Once he was out, he was out, and if he got his arms around you, well, you were probably going to be stuck like that until he woke up. She had learned that the hard way, when Xavier had made both of them late for work on more than one occasion, but it was kind of cute and endearing and she could never be too mad at him. Honestly, sometimes, she wished she had the ability to sleep anywhere at any time like he did. It would make sleepless nights like these so much easier.
She had somehow managed to escape Xavier’s clutches that night, but had woken up after only three hours of sleep, wide awake, thinking about everything she needed to do that week. Work had been exhausting lately. There seemed to be so many missions back to back, and she had an annual test coming up too that she was stressing over even though she knew she had studied thoroughly for it.
And she hadn’t been alone; Xavier had been doing way too many solo missions again, leaving early, and coming back far too late at night, if he even made it back before dawn. This was one of the first nights in the last couple weeks that they’d been able to have dinner together and actually got to hang out and catch up on some shows. Even then, Xavier had been nodding off into the second episode and she had insisted they go to bed, which may have been a mistake, because she had been so much more comfortable cuddled up with him on the couch earlier than she was now.
Frustrated at the inability to reclaim her earlier exhaustion, she finally threw the covers back and got up, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water.
She heard Xavier shift behind her and glanced back to see he had rolled into the middle of the bed with a little grunt.
She shook her head as she left the door slightly ajar, finishing her journey to the kitchen. She decided to make a cup of chamomile tea instead and sat down on the couch with it, scrolling through her phone to look over the exam questions, hoping it would make her drowsy.
She started to hear noises from the bedroom and glanced up briefly, wondering if Xavier had woken up as well, maybe realizing she was gone. She wondered if she should make him a cup of tea too, when he heard a slightly strangled sound as if Xavier were in pain.
Frowning, she stood up, remembering one night he’d been sleep walking to the bathroom and stubbed his toe, leaving her to have to guide him in the proper direction.
There was a thud and she hurried into the room, half expecting to see Xavier on the floor, but he was actually still in bed. He seemed to have knocked some books off of his side table.
“Xavier?”
He was sprawled on his back in the middle of the bed, chest heaving, hands clenched in the sheets.
“N-no,” he moaned. “Please…”
He was having a nightmare, she realized, stomach flipping in sympathy. She moved toward the bed, reaching out to try and soothe him.
“Not…again…I won’t…let you…take her…”
She froze, a frown furrowing her brow. She quickly flipped the bedside lamp on, casting a cozy glow over the room, finally illuminating Xavier’s face.
It was crumpled in obvious distress, sweat dampening his forehead, sticking his bangs to his skin. One hand clutched in the tangled blankets as the other tugged at the collar of his sweatshirt as if it were strangling him.
Worry washed over her as she could see the vague outline of the suppressant collar around his throat. Was it causing his distress or…?
A strangled, desperate cry escaped him as he suddenly reached out, her name on his lips.
She couldn’t stand seeing him like this. She caught his hand and climbed onto the bed, gripping his shoulder as she gave him a firm shake.
“Xavier! Wake up.”
His chest heaved in a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering.
“It’s okay, Xavier, I’m here,” she said, kissing his hand as she stroked his hair. “Come back to me.”
He tilted his head toward her voice and his eyes finally blinked open, the usual cerulean bright with fading panic.
He croaked her name and she smiled at him. “Hey, it was just a nightmare. You’re okay.”
He didn’t look okay as he swallowed and glanced around the room, seeming to put things together before landing on her, his hand shifting to hold onto hers tightly.
“Let me get you something to drink,” she said.
He seemed reluctant to let her go, but she was quick getting a glass of water and sat on the side of the bed as she gave it to him.
He drank shakily, throat bobbing before he set the glass aside.
“Better?” she asked.
He shrugged. He seemed really rattled still, like he wasn’t quite back yet.
“That seemed like a pretty bad nightmare,” she probed, shifting closer to sit at his side. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
The answer was blunt, and she fought the urge to press. She didn’t like seeing him like this, especially when she didn’t know the reason.
“It doesn’t matter, it was in the…past,” Xavier said carefully. “I’m not going to let the past repeat itself.”
“That doesn’t mean it can’t still hurt,” she told him.
His face crumpled briefly and she turned to him, unable to resist another second. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.
His breath hitched at first, then he let out a shuddering exhale and went limp against her, arms wrapped tightly around her waist.
She held him for a long time, rocking him, rubbing his back, stroking his hair, squeezing him in a secure embrace until he stopped shaking and his breathing steadied against her neck.
“I may not know what you dreamed,” she said, “and you never have to talk about it, but just know that I’ll always be here to help you through it. Whatever happens in your dreams, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
His arms tightened around her, holding her impossibly closer. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t seem able to in that moment and that was okay. She knew she would be there if he ever felt ready to open up.
She shifted them both down onto the pillows, releasing him briefly to pull the blanket over them. Xavier exhaled slowly, nuzzling against her as she bent to kiss his closed eyelids.
“It’s okay, Xavier, I’ll chase the nasty nightmares away.”
A small smile tugged at his lips as he kissed her jaw. “Yeah, I know you will.”
Hello, and happy birthday month! 🥳🎉 (and day for when it is to come :) ) I'd like to request a ficlet if u have the time, for Rafayel with the prompts #6 from fluff and #6 from whump so it's the perfect balace hehe (but don't be shy on the whump!). For the collapse I was thinking about Raf really not taking care of himself (aka not sleeping and eating properly for some time, and getting sick? Or just generally feeling shit and refusing to acknowledge) so MC comes to the rescue to force him to relax. I want to see more overworked Raf in this fandom 🩷 (thank you!!)
You guys have been feeding me some good Raf prompts! Hope you enjoy <3
(tw for unintentional overdose on cold medecine)
(Requests are open through the end of August! if you want to send an ask, you can see how to do that HERE)
~~~~~~~~
Worry gnawed at me as I made my way toward Mo Art Studio, easily opening up the gate Rafayel never bothered to lock.
Thomas’s words from his phone call earlier repeated in my head:
“I haven’t seen him for two weeks. He blew off the meeting we were supposed to have about a new exposition two days ago and he’s refused to pick up his phone. I’d go myself but I literally don’t have time—besides, I’m sure he’d be more receptive to you.”
It wasn’t so odd for Rafayel to ignore Thomas, but it was odd that he hadn’t so much as sent me a text or a picture or even shared a silly video like he usually would. I hoped something wasn’t really wrong.
As I got to the front door, I didn’t even bother knocking, just went inside. “Rafayel?”
“In here.”
The sound of his voice put me at ease a little—that was until I actually saw him.
The studio was, to put it mildly, a manic disaster area. Half dried canvases sat willy-nilly across the room, loose papers with sketches swept across the floor. Paints and pigments were everywhere and sitting on the floor in the middle of them, bent over a canvas with a paintbrush in hand, was Rafayel.
He had paint covering his hands and forearms, some smudged on his face, more speckled on his bare feet. His eyes were bright and his complexion was wan as if he hadn’t slept for several days.
“Cutie, you’re just in time,” he said excitedly as he looked up at me. “I’ve been in a creative treasure trove! It’s been amazing! I haven’t felt this much passion for my projects for a long time.”
As I drew closer I could see stark red splotches on his cheeks—not paint, but potentially a fever, and dark purple bruising under his eyes.
“Rafayel, are you okay? When was the last time you slept?”
“I don’t need to sleep! My art fuels me.”
I reached out to press my hand to his head. “You have a fever!”
“I know,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t worry I took medicine for it. Made me feel reeeally good right now.”
I glanced over to the coffee table with trepidation, seeing a package of cold medicine, a couple pills rolling on the table. “Raf…how many did you take?”
“I don’t know, three or four,” he said casually, still glued to the painting in front of him, making purposeful strokes here and there.
I couldn’t be certain but I thought his hands were shaking.
“Rafayel, you need to take a break,” I said firmly, putting a hand on his shoulder “You’re sick and you look awful. Come on, please come have some water at least.”
“Cutie, I’m fine, I’m almost done, just—there!”
He climbed to his feet and held the canvas out, setting it on the easel. “What do you…think?”
He swayed, and turned even more pale as his face instantly fell, blinking rapidly. “I…I don’t…”
I hurried forward just in time for him to collapse. I caught him before he could fall to the floor.
“Rafayel!”
He lolled in my arms, feet not cooperating, and I hurriedly half-carried him over to the couch, laying him down.
He moaned, reaching up to cover his eyes. “Head…spinning…”
“Yeah, I imagine,” I said, adjusting him more comfortably, propping his feet up to make him feel less faint. “Stay there.”
I hurried to his medicine cabinet and grabbed a thermometer and wet a washcloth as well.
He thankfully hadn’t moved by the time I got back and I knelt beside the couch and put the cloth over his head. “Open your mouth.”
He groaned but dutifully complied, allowing me to slide the thermometer under his tongue. Once it beeped I was not happy to see the result.
“Well, Mister, you just earned yourself bed rest with that temperature.”
“But I’m fine, really!” he said, trying to sit up again. “I-I still need to finish my paintings—”
I pushed him back down. “No. You’re going to bed. Now.”
I looked around at the random open bags of chips and other snack foods lying around. “When was the last time you ate actual food?”
“Seaweed snacks are food,” Rafayel murmured.
I scowled at him and reached down to help him up. “Alright, come on, I’ll help you to your room.”
I let him lean on me as we made it upstairs. I led him to the bathroom first and helped him to clean all the paint off before dressing him in pajamas. Rafayel pouted the whole time, even though he could barely stay upright without swaying, continuously leaning against my shoulder even though he still protested that he was fine.
I finally tucked him into bed. “Be a good fishie and stay there while I get some stuff for you.”
He huffed and I hurried down to the kitchen, rummaging through everything to see what he had that might be halfway nutritious. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much, so I quickly put in a grocery order and hurried out to my car where I had some extra electrolyte drink powders that I kept for missions.
I mixed some for Rafayel and sat on his bedside to try and get him to drink.
He was starting to look more miserable by the second.
“My head hurts,” he moaned. “I feel sick…ugh.”
“That’s probably the fever, dehydration, lack of sleep,” I listed off the consequences of his actions. “Here, let me help you sit up and drink this.”
He groaned and leaned against my shoulder as I sat him up, helping him drink the water.
He only took a few sips though before he turned away, covering his mouth. “N-no, I’m gonna get sick.”
“It will help, just try to get a little more into your system.”
He pushed my hand away though. “No…my stomach really hurts, I can’t…”
Clammy sweat had appeared on his brow and I started to feel worried. Maybe I should take him to the hospital instead.
“Alright. Just take deep breaths.” I lowered him back down and cooled him off with the cloth again as he seemed to settle a little.
“Raf…you really need to take better care of yourself,” I said gently, troubled by just how bad off he was.
He looked up at me with remorse, blinking slowly. “I’m sorry. I just…don’t always notice these things.”
“I know,” I sighed, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead, reminded of how warm he was. “Just take it slow, okay? A little at a time.”
Rafayel let out a small whimper but sipped at the drink until I let him have a break, gently rubbing his aching tummy to soothe him as we let the liquid settle.
“You didn’t even read the package on the damn pills.” I muttered. “No wonder your stomach hurts.”
He whined a little. “Whatever was in them gave me a really great streak of inspiration though.”
“That’s not an excuse!” I snapped, suddenly furious. Rafayel flinched as I grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? What if you’d passed out—alone? How long would you have been there before I came over to check on you?”
His lips trembled a little and he looked away.
“You’re right,” he finally said. “I don’t take good care of myself. I don’t remember when I last slept or ate anything that wasn’t coffee or chips. I—I just couldn’t stop. I wanted to take advantage of the inspiration when I had it. I haven’t felt like that in a long time and…”
I sighed, stroking his hair back. “It’s partly my fault for not checking in sooner too. I should have known something was wrong earlier.”
He nuzzled into my hand, closing his eyes. “I’ll try to be better about my self-awareness, and self-care.”
I smiled softly and leaned down to kiss him gently. I held up his hand, showing him how shaky it was. “See? You can’t even paint right now anyway.”
He sighed, seeming to sink lower into the bed. “Yeah, I get it. But…I’m just afraid that when I get out of this bed again, all my inspiration will be gone.”
“If it is, I’ll help you find new inspiration,” I told him kindly. “But before that, you’re going to rest, eat, and let me take care of you. I’m going to spend the next few days teaching you about self-care.”
“Hmm, I guess it doesn’t sound too bad,” Rafayel hummed. “I suppose I can endure it.”
I smiled back and picked up the drink bottle again. “Drink a little more for me?”
He sighed. “You are a drill sergeant about self-care though, aren’t you?”
“Only because I want you to be at your best as soon as possible.”
