Could you do hc's for the boys where MC is like. Later for dinner or something but before the bois can go and see what's up, MC sends them a text that's like
"Yea I'm gonna be late for dinner. Not sure how late, but I'll be there. I've been trynna find a way out of my room for like 20 minutes, but there's this very big bug between me and the door, and every time I move, it moves. When it flies its wings make this whirring noise akin to some vassal horror. We're locked at a stalemate, I'm at every disadvantage, and I wholeheartedly believe the bug is aware of this."
(I don't hate bugs or anything but this sounds so funny in my head)
BUGGED AND BELATED
PAIRING: Love and Deepspace men x gn!reader
SYNOPSIS: You're trapped in your room, locked in a silent battle with a bug that’s far too aware of your fear. Every move you make, it counters. Every escape plan, foiled. Dinner will have to wait—this thing might actually win.
A/N: Thank you for the request. Hope you enjoy!
You were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago. Twenty. For a date. With a man you had just started seeing—a man you actually liked, which was rare enough to be considered a cosmic event. You wanted to make a good impression. Show up on time, looking effortlessly stunning, exuding charm and mystery. Just like the diva you were.
Instead, you were crouched behind a chair like a soldier in enemy territory, locked in a silent battle with a creature that had no business being this menacing.
The bug sat there, unmoving, yet radiating pure malice. To be honest, you couldn’t even tell what species it belonged to—somewhere between a beetle and a winged nightmare—but what you did know was that this thing was an opponent of the highest caliber. Every time you so much as shifted toward the door, it twitched, its wings lifting just enough to emit that sinister, high-pitched whirrrr.
And like a rational, fearless adult, you responded by screeching and diving right back into hiding.
This was a hostage situation. A Mexican standoff where only one of you had the advantage—and it sure as hell wasn’t you. The bug had taken control of the room, standing guard like a tiny, exoskeletal bouncer blocking your exit. If it had arms, you were certain they’d be crossed. Maybe even holding a clipboard with your name on the Do Not Pass list.
To be fair, you weren’t afraid of it, not exactly. It’s not like you thought it would launch an aerial assault and drag you into the vents. No, this was something worse. This was the principle of the matter. You were bigger. You were (presumably) smarter. You had evolved beyond your primal ancestors who once feared such creatures. And yet, here you were—hiding. Defeated. Outplayed by something a fraction of your size with the IQ of a rock.
It was a battle of wits, and the bug was winning.
You were moments away from accepting your fate, contemplating whether it was time to draft a farewell message to society—“Tell my date I died bravely in combat”—when your phone rang.
Loud. Sharp. Invasive.
The bug moved.
And so did you—by nearly launching yourself out of your own skin.
Xavier
You glanced at your phone, still flicking your eyes toward the bug every few seconds, refusing to trust the little menace. It had already robbed you of your dignity—you weren’t about to let it rob you of your life, too.
The screen lit up with a message from Xavier.
"You could've just told me if you didn’t want to meet today. I could be asleep right now instead of waiting 20 minutes for my date, who didn’t show up 😔👎"
You groaned, slapping a hand to your forehead. Great. Just great. His text was clearly teasing, but the guilt still hit like a truck. Xavier was sweet, kind, patient—all things you did not deserve while currently cowering behind a chair, engaged in psychological warfare with a bug.
You shot a death glare at your opponent.
The bug, as if personally insulted, spread its wings again with a menacing whirrr, as if to say "Do something about it, coward."
You squeaked and pressed yourself further into hiding. The sheer audacity of this thing.
Frustration bubbled in your chest, so overwhelming it almost made you want to cry. This was it. The bug had won. You were defeated.
Desperate, you called Xavier. He picked up on the second ring.
"Bug!" you shrieked—because apparently, that was the only thing your panic-ridden brain could muster.
Unfortunately, your enemy took offense to your attempt at reinforcements.
With an unholy BZZZZZZT, it lunged.
You screamed and made a break for it, sprinting toward the bathroom like your life depended on it—which, at this point, it probably did. You barely managed to lock the door before stuffing a towel under the gap to ensure the beast wouldn’t crawl its way in.
From the other end of the phone, Xavier’s voice came through, laced with concern. "Y/N?"
"Xavier! There’s a murderous bug in my apartment! It wants me dead! Oh my god—I'm too young to die!" you wailed, slapping your thigh in frustration.
Which, in hindsight, was a mistake.
"Ow."
You winced, rubbing the sore spot like an idiot.
There was a pause on the line before Xavier simply said, "I'll be there in a second."
You barely had time to process that before the call ended.
Outside, you could still hear the bug, hovering around like a tiny, winged executioner.
"Stupid bug," you muttered under your breath, arms crossed, sulking in your self-imposed exile.
A minute passed. Then—a knock on the bathroom door.
"Y/N?"
You practically leapt up, flinging the door open. Your eyes darted around the room, scanning for any signs of your sworn enemy before finally landing on Xavier.
“…Did you get rid of it?” you asked, breathless.
He simply nodded, expression unreadable.
For a moment, you could only stare at him—your knight in shining armor. And then, overcome with relief, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck like a lifeline.
"My savior!!" you cried, rocking the both of you side to side, your gratitude radiating off you in waves. For extra effect, you even pressed a dramatic kiss to his cheek before pulling back, hands settling on his shoulders.
Xavier was visibly flustered, the tips of his ears burning red. But there was also something else in his expression—a quiet, barely-contained laugh.
And then he did laugh. A soft chuckle, amused and way too smug for your liking.
He reached out, smoothing down your slightly disheveled hair. "You're adorable when you're terrified."
"Don't you dare laugh at me," you pouted, though the small smile on your lips betrayed you. "You don’t understand how bloodthirsty that thing was."
"Mm, sure," he mused, eyes gleaming. "But now that I’ve saved your life, and considering you did ditch me tonight…" He tilted his head, a mischievous smirk playing at his lips. "You’ll need to make it up to me."
You narrowed your eyes. "I’m going to kick you."
"Okay, okay—" He held his hands up in surrender, still grinning.
…You did end up baking his favorite cookies as a thank-you, though.
Zayne
You snatched up your phone with the urgency of someone fleeing an inferno.
“Is something the matter? We were supposed to meet 20 minutes ago,” Zayne’s voice was impossibly calm, though you could hear a hint of something softer underneath—a trace of disappointment, perhaps, that you weren’t there.
“Help!!! Me!!!” you wailed into the phone, your eyes fixed on the fiend in front of you. It was perched in the doorway like a guardian of doom. A creature so vile, it made your pulse quicken with panic.
You swore it was mocking you.
“Where are you? I’ll be there in five minutes,” Zayne responded, his tone laced with concern that might’ve been heartwarming if you weren’t currently engaged in a life-or-death standoff with an insect that seemed capable of understanding the emotional depths of human suffering.
“In my apartment... There’s a bug. It’s holding me hostage, Zayne, I’m not kidding. I can’t get out,” you explained, backing away slowly as the bug twitched. The sheer audacity of this tiny creature to hold you prisoner in your own home had you flabbergasted.
You could almost hear Zayne’s sigh through the phone, a mixture of concern and, dare you say it, disbelief. You could practically picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, probably contemplating the universe's cruel sense of humor. Was this how living a life by your side would look like?
“…I’ll be there in five minutes.”
You tried to wait. You really did. You took a deep breath, lifted a pillow, and threw it at the bug. It fluttered back, as if taunting you, and your confidence plummeted faster than the falling stock market. Next came the slipper, but that only made it angrier. You briefly entertained the idea of throwing the chair at it—seriously, what was the worst that could happen? But common sense prevailed.
Still, the bug didn’t relent. In fact, it seemed to be toying with you, edging closer with each passing second, its wings fluttering like the harbinger of doom.
And then, like a knight in shining armor—if that knight was slightly irritated and impossibly poised—Zayne entered.
He didn’t knock. He didn’t need to. He knew you’d open the door for him.
The scene he walked into was something straight out of a tragedy, but it lacked the nobility and grandeur. You were cornered like a mouse by a cat. The bug sat there, wings spread in a challenge. You, in your finest cornered-animal panic, clutched the edge of the couch as if it could save you.
Zayne surveyed the situation, his brows knitting in disbelief. The word “seriously” almost visibly hovered over his head. He muttered something to himself under his breath—something along the lines of “A grown adult, reduced to this…” and grabbed the slipper you had unsuccessfully used in your battle. With one deft movement, he swatted the bug dead.
It was over. The monster was slain. You were free.
He turned to you, expression still a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
“Are you… Are you quite finished?” Zayne asked, his voice a low, cultured lilt, tinged with something that could almost be construed as amusement. His gaze flicked to the corner where you’d been backed into, and then back to you, who was now clinging to his arm like your life depended on it.
"Oh, thank God you're here," you sighed, utterly dramatic, “I thought I was going to perish in this apartment, alone and forgotten, just me and the bug in an eternal standoff!” You fluttered your eyelashes at him with all the flair you could muster, trying to inject some levity into the situation, though your chest still heaved in relief.
He blinked, visibly softening, but his voice remained stern, a tad patronizing as he gave your cheek a light pinch.
“You and your antics. Unbelievable,” he sighed, shaking his head. “What on earth possessed you to try and fight the insect with a pillow?”
“It wasn’t my fault!” you huffed, pouting as you gripped his arm tighter. “That thing had too much intelligence—I’m telling you, it was strategic.” You let out a dramatic sigh, as though recounting the tale of a great hero's struggle. “But, I’ll make it up to you. You’re my hero, after all.”
A sudden mischievous gleam flickered in your eyes. “How about I treat you to a massage for those tired, heroic muscles of yours?” you said, raising an eyebrow playfully, leaning in just enough to make your intentions clear.
Zayne raised an eyebrow in return, his lips twitching into a small but unmistakable smile. “A massage, hm? How very… unconventional of you,” he said, the hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “And here I was, expecting a thank you cake or perhaps a trophy for my valiant deeds.”
“I’ll bake you cookies later,” you said with a wink, already turning toward the kitchen. “But right now, I’m focused on making sure you aren’t walking around with tense shoulders from saving me from certain doom.”
Zayne’s smile softened, his eyes glinting with fondness as he crossed his arms. “Well, I suppose there’s no point in disobeying you now, is there?” He reached up and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his voice soft but teasing.
You grinned up at him. “But if that thing ever shows up again…” you glanced at the now-dead bug lying on the floor, “we’re going to need more than just a slipper.”
You smiled to yourself. The bug was defeated, your date was salvaged, and Zayne… well, Zayne was a keeper.
Rafayel
Your phone was practically drowning in notifications from Rafayel. Each ping was more insistent than the last, almost like he thought you were hiding under a rock and couldn't see them.
"Where are you??"
"I've been waiting for you for like, an hour now."
"The audacity. I'm leaving. Fishes would start walking faster than you would get here."
"AND you're not replying."
"I'm this 🤏 close to blocking and reporting you."
You groaned, every word a reminder of how you were literally about to die at the hands—or wings—of a bug. You cursed under your breath and, with all the dignity you could muster, typed back: "House. Bug. Come!!!!!" That was all the energy you could spare before the creature—an absolute demon with wings—flapped them in your direction. Your heart skipped a beat. You dove behind the couch, praying it didn't have night-vision, or a complex plot to kill you slowly.
Your phone pinged again.
And again.
And again.
You didn’t dare check it—no, not while the little monster was hovering like it was plotting your demise. It was a battle of wills now, and you weren’t about to let your phone ruin your chance of survival.
You grabbed the nearest weapon: your expensive perfume. Maybe, just maybe, a spritz of it would do the trick. You aimed it like a champion—but the bug? The bug didn’t even flinch. Instead, it got more aggressive, flapping its wings with a smirk, if bugs had expressions. And the worst part? You just wasted your last drop of your favourite, expensive perfume. A tragedy on all fronts.
With no other options left, you waited for salvation. Where was anyone when you needed them? What kind of sick joke was this? How could you be outsmarted by an insect?
And then, the sound of footsteps. Hallelujah.
It was Rafayel.
You couldn’t decide whether you were filled with relief or utter terror. Was he here to rescue you? Or was he about to bail on you and leave you in a dramatic, bug-induced death scene worthy of a low-budget horror flick?
The door swung open with zero drama—Rafayel just barged in. He saw you, crouched behind the couch, practically whispering to yourself like you were in a hostage situation. His eyes immediately locked onto the bug, and for a second, time stopped.
His mouth opened, and you could practically hear the gears in his head turning before he spoke: “You are so in trouble right now, young lady. I—”
But then, the bug made a dramatic entrance. It flapped its wings in a show of pure, unadulterated confidence, like it knew it had just broken Rafayel's spirit. Rafayel froze, his eyes widening in horror, and within seconds, he was out the door, like a man running from a natural disaster.
“Rafayel! Don’t leave me here, you fish!” You whined, your voice pitched high in a way that made you sound like you were either five years old or on the verge of a mental breakdown. You weren’t sure which one it was.
The bug flapped its wings once more, mocking you. It was taunting you. You were being outwitted by something with a brain smaller than a grain of rice.
“I am not coming in there unless you get rid of this disgusting thing!” Rafayel’s voice came from the safety of the hallway, an unmistakable whiny tone in his words. He was refusing to enter, as if you had just asked him to enter a lion’s den while wearing a steak costume.
“You’re a fish! Don’t fishes eat bugs??” You groaned, still peeking out from behind the couch like a small animal in danger of being eaten alive.
“I have never been more insulted in my entire life,” Rafayel shot back, his voice dripping with melodrama. "Never in my—"
Before he could finish his Oscar-worthy speech, the bug made a beeline straight toward him. It was clearly hunting him now, and if you could hear its evil little thoughts, you were sure it was laughing at him. Rafayel yelped in sheer terror, darting behind the door like a child avoiding a splash of water.
“Take it away from me!!” He whimpered, his voice cracking in an almost comical way. If this were a reality show, this would definitely be the most embarrassing moment of the season.
You rubbed your temples in exasperation. This was fine. Everything was fine. Sure, your dignity was shattered. Sure, Rafayel was now questioning your survival instincts. Sure, you were the one who brought a broom to a battle that required grit and determination. But you were ready. It was time to defeat the beast. You needed to. After all, you couldn't get slain by the monster. you still had the whole Lemuria to repopulate.
“If I die right now,” you muttered to yourself, glaring at the bug like it was the villain in the movie of your life, “just know… I think your cooking’s actually terrible. And I once purposefully placed a brush next to your bed so you would slip on it. And—”
You were cut off by the sound of the bug’s wings buzzing, louder and more threatening than ever.
You grabbed your broom with the determination of a warrior and—without hesitation—charged. You swung it like a sword, taking out all your frustrations in one glorious, wild swipe. The bug was in mid-flight, doing its best to dodge your clumsy strikes, but eventually, victory was yours.
The demon bug, defeated, fluttered weakly out the window, and you stood, panting, broom still held high, like you’d just slain a dragon.
And then—silence.
You turned to Rafayel, still holding the broom like you were the hero of the story, waiting for your applause. But no. Instead, he stood there with his arms crossed, his lips pressed into a disapproving frown.
“You did WHAT?” he asked, the disbelief in his voice thick enough to spread on toast.
And in that moment, you realized—you’d won the battle against the bug. But now, a greater danger awaited you - an angry fish.
Sylus
You barely had time to register the sound of your phone ringing before bam, your door was obliterated like it was made of cardboard.
There stood Sylus, a whirlwind of concern and urgency, his brow furrowed, eyes scanning the room with that signature intensity.
He must’ve assumed you were in immediate danger, and, well... he wasn’t entirely wrong.
You were hiding behind the chair, poking your head out like a startled meerkat, a wave of relief washing over you at the sight of him. Sylus, your towering savior. The person who could fix anything, even the most horrifying of circumstances.
The bug, though? It seemed just as startled as you, its wings twitching nervously as though it could sense Sylus’s unyielding presence in the room. If bugs could feel power, this one was now thoroughly aware of its impending doom.
You almost giggled to yourself. Game over for the bug.
Sylus, meanwhile, stood frozen in the doorway, his gaze shifting between you and the bug with an expression that could only be described as... confusion.
"Kitten, what’s the matter?" His voice had that smooth, no-nonsense tone, but there was a definite edge of concern hidden beneath the sternness.
You pointed dramatically at the bug on the floor, your finger trembling slightly as you did. You could feel your pulse racing, that primal fear creeping back. Sylus’s eyes followed your outstretched arm to the bug, then shifted back to you, his expression unreadable. He took a beat, processing the situation. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he deadpanned:
"You’re not actually serious, are you?"
You couldn’t even muster a comeback. Instead, you whined, ducking further behind the chair as the bug flapped its wings once again, preparing for round two.
"It’s trying to kill me!" You squeaked, clutching the chair as though it were your only line of defense against the monstrous thing that was quite literally the size of your thumb.
Sylus’s gaze lingered on you. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—was it disbelief? Amusement? Maybe a little bit of both. He stood there, dead silent, taking it all in. And then, to your horror, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.
"Sylus, wait!" You squeaked, your voice rising with panic. The bug was closing in! Would your hero really leave you to face your untimely death at the claws—or wings—of this vile creature?
But just as quickly as he’d left, Sylus returned, striding in like the cavalry had just arrived. In one hand, he held a can of bug spray. No grand entrance, no dramatic speeches, just a weapon of mass destruction for your foe.
Without another word, he unleashed the spray like a warrior wielding a sword of justice, a small but fierce hiss filling the air. The bug’s frantic wing-flapping turned into a lazy, defeated flutter as it crumpled into oblivion.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, cautiously peeking from behind the chair, making sure the battle was truly over. The bug was definitely down for the count. You waited another second, just to be sure, then, with all the grace of a startled deer, you leapt from your hiding place and ran straight into Sylus’s arms.
Without missing a beat, you buried your face in his chest, wrapping your arms around him as though he were your personal superhero—because, in this moment, he definitely was.
"Thank you, my hero!" You chimed, looking up at him, your voice a mixture of gratitude and—okay, maybe a little bit of dramatics. But could you blame yourself? It was a near-death experience.
Sylus’s face didn’t shift much, but his lips curled up at the edges in that trademark sly smirk of his. Oh, here it came.
"My, my... Whatever shall I do with you?" His voice was smooth, filled with an undertone of amusement as his hands slid around your waist, pulling you in closer, his presence overwhelming and comforting all at once.
You couldn’t help but giggle, your heart still racing from the excitement of it all. “Whatever you wish, oh my savior.” You batted your lashes dramatically, trying—and failing—to hold back a grin. "But first, let's get this dinner! All this near-death experience made me starving!"
With that, you grabbed his hand and began tugging him toward the door like a child dragging their parent to their favorite amusement park. Sylus followed, his chuckle rumbling through his chest as he matched your pace.
“As you wish, my lady,” he replied, his voice warm and amused.
“Oh, and by the way, you need to replace my door. You did kinda knock it down.” You gestured at the gaping hole in the doorway, now very much ruined by his heroic entrance.
Sylus raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I can just buy you a new house.”
“No,” you said flatly, shaking your head with conviction. “Not a new house. Just the door. And maybe some new furniture to match the hole you made.”
Caleb
You ignored your phone's ringing for now - afraid to move your gaze away from the bug.
You'd tried everything: pillow throws, shoe swats, even a half-hearted attempt at swatting it with a hairbrush. But every time you tried to inch your way to the door, the thing flapped its wings with an eerie, almost taunting precision. You were fairly certain it was actively laughing at you. The worst part? You couldn’t figure out what it even was—was it a cockroach? A beetle? No, it had the terrifying charisma of a tiny dragon.
At this point, your phone was pinging like crazy, full of messages from Caleb.
"Where you at, babe? :P" "You good? 😬" "Okay, I'm seriously starting to get concerned. Did you get abducted by aliens? XD" "Or worse... did you bail on me??"
You groaned, knowing you had to respond. With one eye on the bug (now doing an actual flyby of your head), you typed out a frantic reply: "Bug. Help. Please. I’m literally being held hostage."
The "send" button clicked just as the beast made a bold move toward you, sending you diving behind the couch. You muttered something obscene under your breath, praying to whatever higher power existed that Caleb would get the message.
You heard the front door creak open, and the sound of footsteps entering your apartment. Caleb’s unmistakable voice rang out immediately.
"You alive in there, or did you get eaten by a mutant insect?" His tone was teasing, light, but you could hear the hint of concern buried underneath it.
The moment you saw his face peeking around the corner, you almost burst into tears, then immediately regretted not thinking of this sooner—why hadn't you just called him earlier? This was a disaster.
"There!" You pointed shakily at the bug, now circling you like a demented helicopter, "It’s... it's trying to kill me, Caleb. Please get rid of it before I lose my mind."
He looked at the bug, then back at you, arching an eyebrow. "So, you're telling me this... thing has been keeping you hostage for 20 minutes? I’d say I’m impressed, but also... I’m honestly a little offended you didn’t call me earlier."
You shot him a pleading look. “I didn’t want to bother you! Plus, I thought I could handle it myself, but clearly—" you gestured at the bug dramatically, "—I was wrong."
He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I’ll take care of it. But you owe me one for this. You owe me big time."
As if on cue, the bug lunged towards him, its wings buzzing aggressively.
"Look at this thing, Caleb! It knows I’m weak!" you shouted, half laughing, half panicking. You watched him as he calmly reached for the nearest object—a broom—before striding toward the creature like a true warrior.
"Relax, pipsqueak. I’ve got this." His voice was smooth, dripping with that signature teasing tone, but there was a flicker of protectiveness in his eyes. You knew he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.
With one swift motion, he shooed the bug out of your apartment, making sure it was well and truly gone before turning to you with a satisfied grin.
You practically threw yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Oh my god, Caleb. Thank you. I would’ve died in here if it wasn’t for you.”
He chuckled softly, his lips brushing the top of your head as he held you tight. "You owe me, sweetheart. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. I came here expecting a romantic evening, not to play exterminator." His hand gently ran through your hair, a soft gesture of care that made your heart flutter despite everything.
"I’ll do anything," you said, your voice a little too serious.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Anything? Hm, we might need to revisit that offer later, but for now..." He paused, leaning back to look you over. "I think we can still salvage the evening. After all, we’ve got the whole night ahead of us, right?"
You smirked, playfully brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Yeah, and you’re not getting out of dinner that easily. You still owe me a real date after this."
He laughed, pulling you closer. "Alright, alright. But just so you know, next time, I’m sending you a bug-catching kit as your official starter pack for dating me. You’ve been warned."
You couldn’t help but grin, a weight finally lifting from your shoulders as you found yourself safe in his arms.
"And Caleb," you said, trying to hide a mischievous smile, "You look hot when you move around with a broom."
about the new guy CN fans hate him because he is too tan and too full of muscles apparently and global fans are pissed because they say they were hoping he would be MORE tan and they love how big he is 😭
imagine
kakania tank 100% of dmg dealt to allies instead of 50%
kakania fuel all dmg tanked into empathy instead of taking it herself
the team only lose hp when empathy is maxed
that's enigma
I still can't belives they truly give Adler a bath and force him to shave just for show up... i means he also get an exclusive patch and he is not a limited character...
the fact Adler provides inc might instead of ult might just proves he still has a beef with Ulrich and needs to pretend to be a toxic marrige could just for flirt pretty sure that Ulrich's FUA would still benefit from Adler's inc might but they need turn it everybody else problem anyway
i hope we have an update in the guest room with new dorm room themes, like a street from the roses, a room from savana's palace, a pirata ship for octavinelle, etc i hope book 8 brings new things
ugh we need more manipulative characters that aren’t evil. lie and cheat and steal for a good cause. control every narrative. use narcissism for justice. ruin all of your personal relationships for the good of the mission.
ellievsbear
izzy806
origamiaround
vaporwave
amandla
