Hello hello! Call me Wander or Huntress; and I mostly just reblog things I'm into (like everyone here). I DO occasionally make stuff of my own. Mostly fan-works that is.
two huh's and two lavender heads turn at you. the grin you try so hard to conceal spreads wide anyway. those same sunset eyes and same confused expressions. the smaller guy rests in your lap while the other guy is sitting beside you on the comfort of your couch.
"what that mean, mummy?" kashiel blinks. rafayel nods along too.
"i mean, why your face," you cup kashiel's face, "your eyes, your hair, and oh! your nose too," you gently pinch his little nose, "all the same as daddy?"
"'course i look like daddy! i daddy baby." it's the obvious, sure. bless your baby for his mummy about to bully him.
"and you're not mummy's baby?" you ask, putting a very hurt, sad face. your son's proud face washes away as he panics seeing you pout.
"wha–!! i mummy baby too." determined little thing as he kneels in your lap, facing you with hands on your shoulders to prevent himself from unstable footing. "why you say i no mummy baby?"
"you tell me, kashiel." it's fun to tease kashiel. he's so smart and mischievous. always have something to come up with in any situation. you wonder how this one will turn out.
your husband at the same time has snuggled up at your side. head tilted back on the couch as he watches his wife and son having a conversation. his most favorite thing in the world.
"uh.." kashiel turns to look at daddy for help. rafayel stuck his tongue out instead. never mind!
"uhm.. mummy.. i.." the gears in his brain are working overtime to prove he's just as much as mummy's like he is daddy's. "i kind! mummy kind! that why i mummy baby too."
kashiel carefully observes your face. please mummy smile, please mummy smile and say he's mummy's baby chanting internally.
"oh so daddy's not kind, kashiel?" a voice that's not mummy chirps and intervenes.
kashiel huffs and loops his little arms around mummy's neck, seeking your hug and attention. melting like a puddle when you laugh and kiss his hairline.
"daddy no kind! you eat my donuts."
"excuse you, you already had so many donuts that day and they were going to spoil, mister. someone had to finish it, we don't waste food." rafayel eyes the way kashiel's clinging to you like a damn barnacle. your husband has yet to have his own fill of cuddles today!
"i no care. i mummy baby."
"you are mummy's baby indeed. tomorrow we buy some donuts, okay?" you agree easily, revelling at how your husband turns sulky now. another big baby to deal with here.
one of my favorite things about love and deepspace is its message about the preservation of art.
in xavier's "perfect sunset" memoria, he takes over a second-hand bookstore when his friend had to do something. granted, the hours are odd and seldom do they make a sale (xav's words, not mine), but the fact that somebody in linkon was passionate enough to maintain a bookstore is so beautiful to me. i also love that the book MC finds is a tale that not only reminds her of her youth, but it also drives her blooming friendship with xavier. it displays the message that art & the different interpretations of it is a key catalyst to human connection.
had the second-hand bookstore shut down, the two wouldn't have discussed the book's contents and it wouldn't have led to xavier wanting to borrow it from her 🥹
rafayel's "ivory nightfall" memoria hones this message down perfectly. he refuses to fix a broken sculpture because he believes it's meant to be preserved that way, flaws and all. with this, he disregards how much the sculpture means to the villagers who worship the goddess. only when MC tells him about the meaning behind her broken watch does he realize that it's not about changing an artpiece's "flaws" to fit an ideal image for its admirers. it's about how material things/artpieces hold meanings — hopes, faith, memories — and the determination that people have in order to hold onto those things.
lads has always had impeccable writing, and the way they portray the beauty of art in the game is beautiful. art is a diverse catalyst made to interpret, connect, and feel.
a/n: aww i love whiny raf, i need the fluff after the story line making me cry until the last second bro. ( req by @aliceonice )
requests are opened !
GENRE: FLUFFF
Warnings: dramatic rafayel ofc
Summary: After returning from a two-and-a-half-week mission, you find Rafayel sulking dramatically because he missed you. He drags you on a walk, clings to your hand and arm the entire time, complains about being "abandoned," and acts like a complete brat for attention. Beneath all the teasing and whining, he's simply relieved you're back and wants to make up for the time you were apart.
Word count: 992
‧₊˚ ⏾. ⋅ "Lately, ive been on a roller coaster tryna get a hold of my emotions. But all i know is i need you close."
navigation ‧₊˚ ⏾. ⋅
——•⏾•——
The second you stepped through the apartment door, you knew something was wrong.
It was quiet. Way to quiet.
Normally, Rafayel always had something going on, music playing somewhere, paint scattered across the floor, dramatic complaints echoing from another room because you “abandoned” him for three whole hours (or maybe a week).
But now? Nothing, just silence that ate up the room.
You barely had time to set your bag down before a voice rang out from the living room.
“So you do remember where I live.”
There he was, in all his glory.
Rafayel lounged dramatically across the couch, one arm hanging over the edge while the other rested against his forehead like he was moments from death itself. His purple hair was slightly messy, and despite the casual position, his eyes were locked onto you the second you entered.
An accusing and very offended fishie was now up to you to deal with.
You stared at him for a moment. “Hi to you too.”
He scoffed loudly.
“Oh, now she says hello,” he muttered. “Interesting.”
You had to bite back a smile already.
The mission had lasted nearly two and a half weeks. Far longer than expected, and communication had been spotty the entire time. You knew Rafayel hated it, he probably hated you.
Not that he’d ever admit it normally.
But he was making it painfully obvious right now.
You slipped your shoes off near the door. “You survived, I see.”
“Barely, I was like a fish out of water.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Cutie, I'm an artist,” he replied immediately, sitting up slightly. “Drama is part of the job description.” A wrinkle between his brows appeared when he furrowed them.
“There it is,” you sighed. “I missed that.” A small smile was shown on your face, his dramatic speech and the bickering was something you missed.
The words slipped out naturally.
But the second they did, Rafayel’s expression shifted. The bratty attitude cracked for half a second, something softer and smiley flickering underneath it.
Then he crossed his arms and looked away.
“Well,” he huffed, “you certainly didn’t act like you missed me.”
You blinked. “Raf—”
“Two weeks and a half weeks,” he interrupted, holding up three fingers accusingly. “Do you know how long that is? You were gone for a long time.”
Something about the way he said it made your chest ache and you whined. “I’m back now.”
He stared at you for another second before abruptly standing and grabbing your wrist.
“Come on.”
Your mouth was agape for a moment due to the unexpected tug of your wrist. “Where?”
“We’re going out.”
You stared at him. “Rafayel, I’ve been traveling for weeks.”
“Yes, and now you owe me attention.”
“I owe you?” You gasped like you were in a stage play.
“Yes.” He nodded seriously. “A ridiculous amount, actually.”
You laughed despite your exhaustion. “You’re unbelievable.”
——•⏾•——
The walk started normally.
First, you walked along the shoreline while the evening breeze rolled in from the water, the city lights reflecting against the waves in soft streaks of gold.
Rafayel held your hand the entire time. Not casually at all. He clung to it like it was his last day on the face of earth.
Both hands wrapped around yours like if he let go, you might vanish again.
At one point, you tried adjusting your sleeve with your free hand and felt him immediately tighten his grip.
You glanced sideways. “…Are you scared I’m going to run away?”
“Yes.”
You snorted.
“I’m serious,” he muttered, moving even closer until your shoulders bumped together. “You swam away once already.”
“I was on a mission.”
“You abandoned me.” he frowns.
“I did not abandon you.”
“Hmph.”
“You’re being a brat.”
Rafayel ignored you completely, instead lifting your joined hands dramatically to his chest.
“You know,” he sighed, “my suffering has permanently altered me.”
You shook your head, smiling helplessly. That should’ve been enough affection for one evening.
Apparently it wasn’t enough for him.
Because five minutes later, Rafayel suddenly stopped in the middle of the walkway and wrapped himself around your arm. Completely engulfing you into his embrace
“Rafayel.”
“No.” It was in the form of a whine like he knew you were gonna tell him to let go.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“I know enough.”
You tried walking again and immediately realized he was making no effort to move independently.
“You’re making me drag you.” You groan, purposely acting like he was dragging you down.
“Yes, I know.” He smiled into the crook of your neck.
“You’re impossible.”
Then you felt a sharp pain in your now exposed shoulder.
He bit you, like an hangry (hungry and angry) fish.
You winch and sigh dramatically. “Ow, Raf! People are staring.”
“Good.” Rafayel rested his chin on your shoulder now, still attached to your arm as you slowly continued walking.
“You smell different,” he muttered suddenly.
You blinked. “What?”
“You smell like outside.”
“I was outside—”
“—For too long,” he cut you off.
You laughed again, and Rafayel’s expression immediately softened at the sound.
“There it is,” he said quietly, looking at you properly now. “You haven’t laughed at me in weeks.”
“That’s because you weren’t there.” You frown, a sneaky smile snuck through.
“Exactly. Terrible for your health.” He poked a finger in between your eyebrows.
Your head fell back a little when he pushed his finger into that spot. “You’re so dramatic.”
“You missed it.”
You opened your mouth to deny it but ended up closed it again.
Because you had missed it. You missed him.
Rafayel noticed your silence immediately and looked unbearably pleased with himself.
“I knew it.” He broke a big grin.
You whined, with a fake-upset expression, “Don’t start.”
“You missed me.” He tilted his head to catch your eyes when you looked away.
“A little.”
“A little?” he repeated in offense. “After all my suffering?”
You rolled your eyes. “Fine. I missed you.”
Despite your banter, he stood up properly and took your hand in one gentle motion. Like finally hearing that you missed him settled something restless in him.
Rafayel, fluff, holding hands, pre-established relationship, short
When Rafayel takes your hand into his for the first time, doing it so nonchalantly in a display of “maybe we are more than friends” as he leads the way through a crowd, you think your soul might be leaving your body.
His hand is so warm, you think to yourself. Is simply getting your hand held supposed to make your heart beat this fast?
You stare at your hand in his in a suspended disbelief, racking your brain to decipher what does it mean when, as if he knows what you are thinking, his hand shifts and he slides his fingers between yours, intertwining them fully.
Inside your head, you let out a not-human-sounding screech of incoherent mess as you feel heat instantly rise to your face.
It is unfair how smooth that was.
“It’s so effortless to you…” you mumble aloud.
Was it a complaint? Maybe. The two of you always have these little unspoken, unserious competitions going on, and hands down, he is currently winning this one by a landslide.
“Effortless?” You hear him softly chuckle in front of you. “That’s only what it looks like, cutie.”
You lift your eyes from your connected hands to the broad of his back, and then you look up just a little higher.
His ears are scorching red.
Partially driven purely by morbid curiosity, you reach up to touch them.
“Hey!” He spins around as if your hand burned him, though he doesn’t let go of your hand, inevitably showing you that his face is bright red. The back of his free hand is hovering over his face, trying to hide his flustered expression.
He cannot possibly be any cuter.
“Well… it's nice to know I am not the only one.”
He gathers himself just enough to refocus and look at your equally blushing face.
“…Cutie, you will be the death of me.”
---
masterlist
My haul so far @wanderinghuntress - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
jacobvanloon
germansingergirl
2087
origamiaround
theartofmadeline
stormborns
discoholicmusic
tangentwithtanner
