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#love and deepspace links

mysticheroine · 15 days

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haikyuu, jjk, l&ds, tokarev, demon slayer — twitter porn links

a/n: literally just some links that remind me of certain anime men... if i have time i might do a part 2 tbh..

edit: haikyuu ver.

— link

NANAMI, zayne

— link

draken, nanami, uzui

— link

toji, ushijima, uzui, TAIJU, draken, SOUTH

— link

baji, kenma, xavier, choso?, KAZUTORA, TENDOU, geto

— link

kenma

— link

choso

— link

toji, SUNA, sukuna, osamu, sanemi, iwaizumi, uzui

— link

toji, tsukishima, zayne

— link

SUKUNA, TOJI, GETO, ran, wakasa

— link

RAFAYEL, hinata, yamaguchi, choso, oikawa (teehee), chifuyu

— link

hinata, yamaguchi, rafayel, choso, oikawa, chifuyu

— link

MITSUYA....., akaashi.

— link

DRAKEN, nanami, osamu, iwaizumi, uzui

— link

nanami, rindou, ran, mitsuya

— link

satosugu

— link

ran & rindou

— link

osasuna, bokuroo

— link

SATOSUGU, ran & rindou, iwaoi

— link

satosugu, atsusuna, iwaoi

#jjk links #haikyuu links #demon slayer links #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen links #haikyuu smut #demon slayer smut #love & deepspace smut #love & deepspace links #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace links #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers links

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ao3-anonymous · 4 days

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Fastest Growing Fandoms on AO3 This Week (04/22/2024)

Every week I pull data on how many fics are in each fandom and compare to the previous week, then calculate the percentage increase to determine fastest growing fandoms. Since this naturally skews towards smaller fandoms, I have included the same data filtered to Over 1k, 5k, & 10k fics.

Overall:

Over 1,000 Fics:

Over 5,000 Fics:

Over 10,000 Fics:

Source: AO3 Fandom Dashboard

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dawnbreakersgaze · 22 days

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The blood sacrifice has been made

@zaynesaurora and @rose-tinted-kalopsia It's done! I've spent the day having fun with this one ♡♡ hopefully yall enjoy lol

Image drawn based off the piece with Xavier that I maybe hyperfixated on, written by Pheonix that you can find here

Tumblr sucks so the full piece below the cut is still heavily edited, but you can find the link to the original piece in full glory below

Did I go overboard with the stickers? Yeah probably. Did Tumblr hate this post twice already? YuP.

So I've got a lot of opinions on this after working on it for like 10 hours now (yes, I'm super slow these days, blame my hands 😭) and the big one is how much trust Xavier would have in you to let you do this to him. I mean the poor man has some kind of device around his neck already that is harming him, and he has a dialog or two in the Cafe about being careful with his neck if you mess around with it. But like with all kink- trust and communication are paramount.

Xavier is someone who's had to be in control pretty much his entire life. He was born into it via royalty, he took it up again when founding the Backtrackers, and then it never really let up after that. With all that in mind, I think Xav would actually really enjoy the moments of getting to completely let go of responsibility that the sub life offers. Now I'm not saying he'd fully embrace it and never go back, but rather that the appeal of letting someone else hold all the responsibility for a while would definitely find purchase in him from time to time.

I hope you two (and any other lovely heathens that made it this far lol) enjoyed this piece! You can find the unstickerer piece on my g-drive here, feel free to save it and use as you wish 😊🤭

#remember kids- practice your adult time safely! always insure you know how to properly know how to use your gear and inspect it frequently #tw: choking #lnds #love and deepspace #l&ds #xavier #art of kay #if you have issues with the link feel free to message me for it :)#im tempted to do companion pieces for the other 3 dudes now this was too fun

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avengers-rule103 · 2 months

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i've asked this before, i'm gonna ask it again, is there anywhere i can read the anecdotes from the game outside of the game? everything about them in game hurts my eyes to read. i'm an avid reader irl, i can read pretty fast, but trying to read 10 of those small pages in-game took me an embarrassingly long time and also gave me a horrible headache. i wanna read them. i wanna get those stories. but i do not wanna put myself through that headache again.

#love and deepspace #they hurt my eyes and head real fucking bad #i go cross eyed trying to read them #it fuckin hurts #i'm genuinely asking #any advice or links or whateve #would be appreciated

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just-a-normal-crow · 7 days

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… perhaps you did see something in the dark, but now it’s gone. and whatever it was, all it left behind are a handful of black feathers and the lingering feeling you were being watched.

… investigate?

#((the link redirects to the rules and info. please take a look before interacting.))#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rp #lnd #lnds #lads #lndrp #gimmick blog #lnd sylus #love and deepspace sylus

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beneathashadytree · 3 days

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ABOUT TO GIVE BIRTH! - TEXTING THE LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN

Warnings : mentions of pregnancy and birth, panicking, reader is AFAB!

Genre : syrupy sweet fluff <3

Additional notes : Anon your brain is SO big for requesting this. Also I couldn’t post for the past few days cause Tumblr links weren’t working, sorry lovies 💔

Tip jar!

Masterlist

Taglist: @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @mushriiin @flurrina @reika-desu @randomidk-123 @tikitsune @cofijelli @roll-of-royces @loveyoutoodeep @belovedof @obiwanmcprobie @hawtlineblingz @kalatipunan @eurekazz @bifedebruxa @thescribeswife @mysticangel123 @xenasolos @jvnluvr @dann-acalle @rosariymchapter @rin-sv14 @yololesgo @an-ever-angry-bi @semi-orangeapple @lavanderbliss @myturnwhen @winterlvod @carsonology @vash-yuu

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 28 days

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≡;-꒰ 𝐋&𝐃𝐒 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑨𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒕 (𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕)

╰┈➤ ❝ headcanon series | l&ds boys + side characters | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

general tags : afab!reader, vaginal sex, foreplay, dirty talk, cursing, variety of kinks, aftercare, etc. (template here for your reference!)

an : more self-indulgence from yours truly, ft. extra characters i don't usually write ! (aka the extent of roxie's love for side characters...) (also i'd need more than 30 tags to include all their names help)

nsfw a-z headcanons with the love and deepspace cast 🤍 [1/7 done!]

ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ ᰔ : link

xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ ᰔ : link

ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ ᰔ : link

ᴊᴇʀᴇᴍɪᴀʜ ᰔ : link

ᴄᴀʟᴇʙ ᰔ : link

ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀꜱ ᰔ : link

ᴊᴇɴɴᴀ ᰔ : link

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

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aeyumicore · 2 months

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☾ .⭒˚ welcome to aeyumi's brain ⋆.˚ ☾

⋆.˚ ☾ about me: she/her. 24. asian american writer.

☾ .⭒˚ writing for: currently only writing for love and deepspace. may branch out in the future!

⋆.˚ ☾ favorite fandoms: jjk, lads, tot, bg3, hsr

☾ .⭒˚ thirsts for:

✦ lads: mostly zayne, but def all of them

✦ jjk: gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, toji fushiguro (yeah basically every penis in the show)

✦ tot: luke and marius

✦ bg3: astarion and halsin

✦ hsr: jing yuan, blade, dan heng

⋆.˚ ☾ links: x | ao3

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾

⋆.˚ ☾ masterlist ☾ .⭒˚

last updated: march 20, 2024

✦ zayne

✧ heart within reach - 5.6k words - smut

✧ what's mine - 10.7k words - smut

✧ business trip - 6.7k words - smut

✧ valentine's day headcannons - 800 words - fluff

✦ xavier

✧ she can't come to the phone right now - 3.1k words - smut

✧ heartstring symphony - 10.1k words - smut

✧ valentine's day headcannons - 800 words - fluff

✦ rafayel

✧ the sixth of march (rafayel birthday special) - 5.09k words - smut

✧ your fragrance - 10.4k words - smut

✧ valentine's day headcannons - 800 words - fluff

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loveyjelly · 3 months

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Love and Deepspace Boys - Highschool AU headcanons

Zayne

Straight A student

Studies a lot and has good time management.

Invites you to study at the library or at his place when there are exams coming up.

Competes in Science Olympiad tournaments and gets shy every time you show up to one of the events.

Waits outside your classroom until your last class is done and walks home with you.

After a study session, you would usually check his bookshelf and try to read one of his books. He would lay his head on your lap and ask you to read the book to him. He lets the sound of your voice slowly soothe him to a peaceful sleep.

Xavier

Doesn't try hard but still gets good grades.

Sneaks off to go to a convenience store and get some snacks.

Buys the snacks you like as an excuse to go to your classroom and give it to you.

Isn't really part of any clubs, he likes to go home after classes are over.

Stays on calls with you when you pull an all-nighter but he ends up falling asleep every time.

He guides your head to his shoulders whenever he notices that you fell asleep while on the bus ride home. Sometimes your hand would brush up against his and while you were asleep and unaware he would link his pinky with yours, careful not to get caught.

Rafayel

Ran for student council as a dare and won.

Lets you stay in the student council room with him if the library or cafeteria is too crowded.

Surprisingly involved in planning school events and designing most of the banners and pamphlets.

He would always ask you for help every time there's a school event, at this point the student council members consider you as one of them too.

Always uses the excuse "I need a model for my art assignment" so you can pose for him and he could stare at you.

You visited him when he got sick and he loved being pampered by you so much that if he could make himself sick, he would do it once a week if it meant you'd spend your late afternoons with him every time.

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader

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syneilesis · 4 months

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[fic] if only for a moment

if only for a moment

Love and Deepspace | Rafayel (Qi Yu) x Main-Character!Reader | T | 3.6k words | ao3 link (with correct formatting)

Rafayel waits. And waits. And waits.

A/N: Another LaD fic!! This time it's Rafayel. Several elements of this fic are inspired by and loosely based on his story anecdotes and bond story, plus that Deep Sea card line backdrop. So more spoilers in this one, I'm afraid. I think you need to be aware of them in order to follow the flow of the fic. But if not, here's what you need to know: basically Rafayel accepts a visiting professorship at the University of Linkon to reunite with the MC/you. And the prose poetry interspersed are loosely situated in the Deep Sea card lineup setting (you can search in YouTube for the scenes. This one is a brief glimpse of the scene). That princess/knight(??) dynamic is yum yum.

If possible, please read the version on AO3. I formatted the prose poems there as if they're really prose poetry, so I'd appreciate it if you check that out. (Though there isn't too much difference between the formatting here and there, I did make the effort of coding a little 🥺)

Anyhoo, hope you enjoy, and I am sO STOKED FOR THE OFFICIAL RELEASE. rip my wallet 💸😭

JUST LOOK AT THIS MAN AND BELIEVE

There’s a type of berry in a distant land that produces a rare shade of ink that matches the color of your eyes. It takes a hundred of them to create the right hue and volume for the art that he wants to make. It comes to him in a dream: endless desert, then fireworks of verdant sparks that coalesce into stem, leaf, and, finally, fruit. Rafayel remembers that land, so much different from the iridescent blue of ocean underwater, and the acrid gold of the barren desert. His mouth filled with the succulent sweetness of the dream, the lingering sandpaper roughness of the berries on his fingers. He already knows the name of the artwork even before he’s begun—Waiting, Missing. The ache in his bones gaining form, an intangible thing taking flesh.

Under the ocean surface, time is muted, a deafening thickness that surrounds you with its ambiguity. On land, however, it is linear, and fast, and in a matter of blinks, Rafayel’s visiting professorship nearly wraps up.

He’s only glimpsed you once or twice. Thrice at most. The university is big, but not big enough to warrant a dearth of fateful encounters. The first time he saw you it was at a coffee shop: walking along with your friends outside, your voice mellifluous and festive wafting through the trellis of the café entrance. You were talking about him—well, about Lemuria to be specific, but these days any talk of Lemuria inevitably draws in his name.

He’s committed your schedule to memory, and yet it just seems impossible to capture a moment with you. Even just a brush of shoulders, or of sleeves—an asymptote of contact. Just navigating around your orbit, but never truly meeting.

What would it be like—finally talking to you? You in front of him, face to face? Rafayel imagines the ache of waiting fading into the background until it’s completely gone. He yearns for that feeling, the release of it. A conclusion—or maybe even a beginning.

i. take my hand, he told you under the glow of the lustrous moon, the only source of light that contoured the secretive valleys of his face. i want to show your highness something. there was a country, he said, beyond the undulating monochrome of the desert, blanketed by lush trees and shrubberies and flowers that buildings were made in betwixt and around them—a nation of trailing and winding architecture, a marriage of the natural and the manmade. you wanted to ask why he’d planned on taking you there, and the only answer you got was a curt turn of his head and the profile of a masked man layered by shadows and distance. it would have been nice, you thought, if the moon poured light upon his hooded gaze.

Eventually he begins to frequent the café. Twice a week at first—he doesn’t want to come off strong right away, of course—and then making his way up until he’s hanging out there more than his own studio. He schedules his visits around your classes, always during the ones when the probability of you dropping by the café is high and he can ‘coincidentally’ be around the same area. It’s gotten to a point that Thomas calls him out on it, and nags at him to focus more on his painting. The next exhibit is immediately after his visiting professorship after all.

“From where I’m standing,” Thomas says, “you’re not painting at all.”

Rafayel ignores him.

Five minutes later, he says, “Not painting is part of the painting process.”

Thomas rolls his eyes, but he leaves him to it.

At the café, Rafayel attracts curious looks. A few attempt to approach him, but he pretends not to see them. They linger around the periphery, like moths to flame.

And then something happens: the entrance door chimes, and you swan into the coffee shop, earphones and denim overall skirt, the kind of rosy-cheeked image Rafayel finds on teen magazines, wide-eyed and earnest. You fall in line and order when it’s your turn, and your eyes sweep across the packed café searching for a vacant seat until they finally land on him.

Rafayel’s heart stumbles.

Up close, the baby fat on your cheeks still gives you the appearance of being younger than you actually look. You turn a polite smile his way, and his heart stutters again—but this time it is taken as a warning.

“Hi,” you say, tentative. Any hint of recognition absent. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

ii. you're counting the steps of your inevitable parting. you're at the edge of the desert, far away from your home and its familiar scents, oriented towards a direction that promised a future sad memory, the gentle warmth of his hand, the downward denial of his gaze. this longing that grew out of your bones, aching during cold, aching during heat, aching when he looked at you with such tenderness he had to hide it through the sharp tug of your joined hands, the long strides that opened up a lonely distance. intimacy was dangerous, knowing was dangerous, the bowels of his heart like a solitary flower on a high peak. what would you do to such loneliness?

Memory isn't always an infallible thing. The human brain cannot hang on to every moment of your life, though Rafayel wishes it were so. But still—to think that you would forget him, and it hasn’t even been a century. You were like a phantom thief stealing his heart in the night—no recourse, no resolution.

To wait is to be in agony, the burn of yearning locked within the heart. Rafayel has been waiting for a long time, and the only memory scorched in his heart is fire, the blaze and its blinding, all-consuming want.

What would you do to such want?

You have a blurry childhood, Rafayel discovers. After the first Wanderer descended on Earth, the incident strummed your memories like a stringed instrument that tired of the same chord, over and over. It had bothered you at first—not being in control of your own memories—but eventually you had learned to live with it.

“Grandma and Caleb—my childhood friend—helped me through the process,” you tell him, stirring your iced mocha with its straw. “I owe them a lot.”

Eyes cast down, but still the melancholy shadows remain in your expression. Rafayel folds his arms on the table, and leans closer.

Around them only a few people occupy the coffee shop at this time. How fortunate for Rafayel to catch you during your break while every other student is trapped in class lectures.

“There’s no use in dwelling upon what's already happened. Even sharks have to give up when their prey escapes. When you remember, it will be all the more joyous, no?”

The smile you give him is crooked, disbelieving.

“If I remember.”

“You’ll remember.” Because there’s no other choice, for you and for him. Rafayel cannot bear being shelved in the history of your smile and happiness. Waiting can only be endurable if there’s an endpoint.

In his studio, Rafayel begins his next painting.

iii. the berries tasted sweet, with an edge of sourness that clung to the bottom of the tongue. it had the exact shade of your eyes, a detail that rafayel brought up the moment he plucked it from the shrub. raising it to align with your eyes, comparing them with his artist's meticulous gaze. maybe when this is all over, i'll go back here again to extract ink from these berries, and paint a portrait of your highness using these to color your eyes. he never showed you any of his paintings, merely mentioned them in passing, and you constructed a dream of him from the throwaway words that left his covered lips. i'm not used to sitting for so long, you reminded him, and he glanced at you, then at the berry between his fingers. my memory is enough, then handed you the fruit.

In the few weeks of meeting with you Rafayel forgets that his visiting professorship is ending soon and he has to give out his last lecture. Thomas had asked him what his topic would be. At that point Rafayel had no answer. But now he has.

“I’ve been hearing you talk about Lemuria every now and then with your friends.” He props his cheek on his hand, tilting his head slightly and giving you a charming smile. “Interested?”

You blink. “How did you know?”

“Oh, I’ve seen you a couple of times here, and I happened to hear your friends chat about my lecture. Your points were almost accurate, I’m in awe.”

“The visiting professor—that’s you?!”

Rafayel pauses, the slosh of his drink nearly spilling on his frozen hand.

“You didn’t know?”

Sheepish, you say, “Honestly, I didn’t make the connection. Is that why plenty of people have been glaring at me as of late?”

He releases a frustrated sigh, eyes rolling heavenward.

“In any case, my final lecture is on Friday next week. It’s titled “Memory and Meaning in Lemurian Art”. Why don’t you drop by and listen, and you can tell me what you think afterwards.”

You retrieve your bullet journal to check your schedule. It’s colorful, filled with stickers and doodles that Rafayel finds endearing. Then the excited moue on your face drops into a frown, and Rafayel can foresee the next words that will come out of your downturned lips.

“I’m sorry,” you say guiltily, “but I have a major test that day, and I need to get a high score in order to pass the course.”

Rafayel exhales, long and weary, but ultimately shrugs off the apology. “What a shame, but I forgive you. Just don’t fail your exam or else my magnanimity would be all for nothing.”

He calls Thomas that night.

“I’ll disappear for a while once the professorship is over.”

“Hey, wait, what do you me—”

“You’ll be happy to know that this is for my next painting.”

A beat. “Okay … but for how long?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Then he hangs up.

He’s trying, he really does. The lecture ends to a resounding applause, and it’s mechanical how he answers the questions posed by the audience. But he’s trying, he’s trying. There’s no specter of you in the sea of faces in the auditorium. You’re at the other end of the university compound, sweating your way through your exam. He genuinely hopes you’d pass, for your sake.

Thomas had booked his flight to another country, where he’ll traverse to a land that he’d visited many times in his dreams and had woken up with a filmy, sweet-sour tang at the roof of his mouth. He’ll leave the morning after the closing dinner party the faculty has prepared for him. There isn’t time to pack much, and no time to tell you goodbye.

Rafayel guesses that it’s only fair: how would you feel waiting for him at that café, the chair across you empty, only the sunlight pooling from the window as your companion?

iv. parting, somebody once said, is such a sweet sorrow. much like those berries in that ever-green nation, a lingering sourness remained underneath, the sting of it reminding you every now and then. he was already mourned for even before he left. tell me what it's like—the ocean. he was elusive, untouchable in his grief. you'd heard through whispers, the story of his migration, the drowning before the drying, the unwanted journey. grief brought him to you and grief would steal him away from you, you knew, down to the cells of your body and the hopelessness in your blood. —and yet. and yet you wanted to have a taste of it, anyway.

The ever-green land is no longer green, or lush, or alive. Time corroded it into memory, sepia-faded, wizened. Past. The berries he’s searching for don’t grow here anymore. Everything here is empty, barren, helplessly so.

Rafayel hasn’t accounted for such development, but he should have known. Disappointment stings at his chest, and bitterly he turns away and stays at the next town over. At a family-run restaurant situated near the outskirts, he looks over the wide windows, across the highway road, beyond the jagged horizon. The painting won’t be finished, then. Another tragedy, pressed flat next to the forgetting, to the waiting, and his home.

The chef personally serves him his order and, after a shuffle of hesitation, brings up a question.

“Young man, you came from the direction of the old country, yeah?”

Rafayel meets his inquisitive gaze. “Yes, why?”

“It’s been a while since we had someone visiting that place. There’s nothing in there anymore, it’s been that way for years. Why did you go there?”

Rafayel is reluctant to say, but at the guileless set of the older man’s face, he concedes.

“I was looking for berries. The ones native there. They produce a shade that I need for my painting.”

At the mention of the fruit, the chef’s expression lights up. “Oh! I see, I see. You’re in luck, son. We grow them here at the farm. Plenty of those for everyone. How about I give you some? It’s rare meeting someone who still remembers the old country, it’s almost fate. How many did you say you need?”

Fate. Just like the time of your first meeting, as if the universe had gifted you to him. Just like the time of your parting, of your forgetting, of his waiting. Fate as a connection from you to him, red and burning brightly.

He doesn’t want to seem eager, but he knows he’s failed from the way the chef toothily grins at him.

“A hundred or so.”

The chef falters at that, jerking slightly back. But he accepts it with a nod, an avuncular smile making its way across his kind, powdery features.

“That sure is a huge number, but I think we can work something out.”

His painting takes a month to complete, inclusive of the time spent making the ink from the acquired berries. Sometimes, Thomas watches him paint, quiet in the background. His stays usually don’t last—a quick flash that Rafayel nearly misses, or deliberately ignores. But during the final stages of the painting process, Thomas hands him the exhibit details.

“I’m just thankful you’re on time for this one.” He sighs, relieved, then leaves.

Alone, Rafayel creates. Brushstroke after careful brushstroke, each varying by pressure and angle. He lets each layer of paint dry before moving onto the next. The berry ink—the color of your eyes—the solely different element of this painting. Center, central. The focal point. The beating heart. The years and years of waiting and longing. The form and the flesh. Alive.

This, too, is an endpoint.

v. can i see your face, just this once? your hands grazed his mask like a ghost wanting to touch. rafayel stayed still beneath your desirous fingers, observing, waiting, his own fingers twitching towards his dagger. even in the parting he could not let go of this distance. hopeless, hopeless. your highness would get nothing out of seeing my face. he's wrong, his eyes never left your face, and he's wrong. he didn't stop you from your grasping of his mask, and him—finally—bare and beautiful yet a little sad. you're wrong, you said, tracing his slightly parted lips with a trembling finger, you're wrong. it is everything to me.

The gallery is packed. No surprise there. It’s almost boring, in a way. Waiting, Missing hangs at the farthest hall in the floor, special and intimate as it should be. Thomas knows him well; otherwise, Rafayel would have whined at him to hell and back just so he could be granted this demand that is in reality a mandate.

He’s hiding from the throngs of journalists and art critics alike and sequesters himself in a corner that has a clear view of the painting. Loosening his collar and tie, Rafayel breathes and closes his eyes, leans tiredly against the wall. A few more minutes, and he’ll slink out of the building, reputation be damned.

He melts into the shadows whenever somebody passes by. He has neither time nor energy interacting with people today. Watching them through half-mast eyes, Rafayel stays in his secret place and studies with weightless detachment the people looking at the painting.

He’s made a bet with himself about the opinions of his followers and admirers. Who thinks what and why. It makes for great entertainment. The last time, a fresh-faced critic praised Rafayel’s technique as “innovative and a soul-rending reflection of the prodigy’s character.” He had laughed and laughed for hours until he couldn’t breathe any longer.

Another walks by, and before Rafayel retreats further into the corner, he glimpses a familiar gait and a familiar face.

His heartbeat races. He’s never told you that he’s holding an exhibit today. After the professorship Rafayel failed to maintain communication with you, convincing himself that it’s for the best that he protect you from afar that day onwards. It didn’t help that he had to leave as well. At the same time, you never made an effort of reaching out, and Rafayel thought that it was back to square one again, that waiting, that yearning.

But here you are right now, elegantly dressed, like someone gliding out of a dream. Rafayel swallows, his hands shake. You do not have someone else with you, and your eyes are brightly focused on Waiting, Missing, and for a fleeting moment your expression flickers into longing, strange and old and battered and sad, that it compels Rafayel to take a step forward—to you.

“Hey.”

The curious look vanishes; left no traces in your delighted face, as if it wasn’t there in the first place. “Rafayel!” you exclaim. “Long time no see! Congratulations on the exhibit; these are all beautiful.”

Outwardly he smirks, belying the torrential emotions he’s currently going through. He cants his head a little, works his charm on you. “Impressed? No need to hold back your compliments.”

Laughter, prismatic and crystalline. “Yes, yes. Especially this one—Waiting, Missing. What an interesting title. At the center, what paint did you use?”

Ah. Rafayel inhales before answering. “It’s actually ink. I had to make it from a hundred berries. It was a tedious process, but I wouldn’t use anything else. It has to be this, you see.”

“Whoa, no wonder you’d been radio silent all this time. You were creating this masterpiece.”

He hums, afraid that, if he speaks, he’d reveal too much.

“Well …” You throw a playful glance at him. “Shouldn’t we celebrate your success?”

His breath catches. “I—”

Before he manages to finish the sentence, a journalist calls out to him and that summons plenty more, swarming him with no chance of escape. It pushes you out of his peripheral vision, and Rafayel wants to shout your name, but you smile and gesture at him to entertain them first. You mouth, I’ll be back, and wander around other paintings some more.

When he finally succeeds in shaking the journalists off, he seeks you out and stumbles upon you near the exit, where there’s fewer people to pile on him.

“Excellent,” he says, sidling up beside you. You turn to him and smile, and there’s that lightning-flash of something again. For one unbelievably surreal instant, Rafayel thinks that despite your hazy memories, maybe you’d been waiting for him all this time, too.

And that thought emboldens him, moving closer and closer until your bodies almost touch. An asymptote of contact. But this time, he has mustered the courage to close that unbridgeable gap.

Rafayel offers you his hand. “Let’s get out of here?”

You stare at his hand then at his face, his eyes, and a meaningful moment stretches between you and him. But even before the idea of retracting enters his mind, you grab his hand joyfully, grinning ear to ear. His heart warms, full with everything.

You squeeze his hand, ready to go. “Lead the way, then!”

vi. a kiss is a greeting and a goodbye, and rafayel tasted of ferocious tides even if you'd seen them only in dreams. his eyes closed, as though savoring his last moments with you, guarded till the bitter end. would that i could ask you to stay—with me. but he shook his head—a final rejection. maybe in another life. there was nobody to watch you cry, in the after.

Rafayel is working on a new painting—a portrait this time. The model squirms on his couch, obvious about the discomfort of posing for too long. He huffs a laugh to himself, hidden by the canvas strategically placed between them.

“I heard that,” you grumble.

“Shush, you’re breaking my concentration.”

“If that already breaks your focus then I pity the rest of the art community.” A beat, then: “Is it done?”

“Patience, my dear muse. You need endure it a little more.”

“Hmph, fine. But after this you’re treating me to an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

“All right, all right.” He shakes his head, fond. “My muse, so demanding.”

Something sweet touches the edge of his tongue, succulent with a hint of tartness. Like longing. Except now, it’s layered with something new and exciting. Something like a new beginning.

In the far distance, the sea murmurs, lit fire by the setting sun.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #lad rafayel #lad qi yu #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace qi yu #fic #my fic #rafayel x reader #qi yu x reader #lad rafayel x reader #lad qi yu x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace spoilers #it's near midnight again i shall now sleep

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exactlycleverpirate · 2 months

Text

Master Post

For easier navigation, see the links below to my various Love and Deepspace Content. More under the cut. Lots of spoilers throughout.

Also, I am willing to take requests, if you want me to write or post something from the game, theorize about a particular aspect, or request a fic. I will try to write it up as I have time and inspiration. I make no promises though. Rafayel is my favorite (obviously), but I like them all. Just my preference, but I will only write one LI x MC pairings. No poly relationships or OCs for me. I'll consider NSFW requests, but nothing with minors, dubcon, noncon, etc.

Timelines (and related in game content):

Timeline from Xavier's Perspective Part 1 and Part 2.

Old Timeline

Rafayel's Timeline Redux Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7.

Rafayel's Timeline Redux Repost (All in one post)

Proposed Timeline for MC

Trying to Make Sense of Rafayel's Timeline (old)

Love and Deepspace: the Story So Far Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

Journey Seeker

The Necklace

Doctor Bios

Love and Deepspace Prologue

Love and Deepspace Chapter 8 Epilogue

Repeating Pattern