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kaiaelsher · 1 month

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Why is MC of LnD so overlooked?

I've seen so many people calling mc a redflag, hating her even sl*tshames her for things that... wasn't even her fault?

It's not her fault that she is destined to be entwined with three men in her lives? All she did was being kind and then fall for each one of them, MC, too, have never had a choice to begin with, in every universe she always have this heart problem, in every universe somehow the men always knew things more than she does. About her forgetting the men, it's not her fault? She literally never wished to forget any of them. She is an innocent kind soul that was dragged to the mud in every universe she gets to live in.

I'm completely BAFFLED when I saw people starting to call MC a redflag because, are we playing the same game? 😭

How could someone who, despite her mortality in the middle of immortal people, wished for her immortal crush to get what he wanted upon the starfall that only happened once a century, when she couldve wished something for herself instead: is a redflag?

How could someone who is a redflag, accompany and love the cruel and cold foreseer, never leaving his side even as he is dying by his mistake of betraying his God, embracing him, crying for him when he couldn't even do that for himself? How a could a redflag be the warming sun of Zayne's life, that is filled by coldness?

How could someone who is a redflag, willingly gave out her heart to her "slave" so he could save his people when, all her life, she has been thinking the only thing she's lived for was for the kingdom that trapped her inside a suffocating castle? How could this someone who is called a redflag, at the end, willingly abandon the kingdom she wanted to protect just to be with her beloved?

Her sacrifices, loyalty, and suffering is so overlooked that it drives me mad. Just because she is unaware of things doesn't mean she never suffered, just because she is destined to fall in love with different men in different universes doesn't mean she's disloyal, it's clear that in each timeline MC wasn't aware of other men's existence beside her beloved, had she been aware, she would not fall in love with three men like that, but unfortunately, the storyline make her did. And all of you blaming her for this thing is messed up.

#love and deepspace #otome game #dating sim #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel #love and deepspace xavier #xavier #love and deepspace zayne #zayne #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #lnd #lads #love and deepspace mc #main character #yall are so blind it makes me so mad #bye

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kaiaelsher · 2 months

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No bc who told lnd's developer that it was a good idea to make these kind of LORE. They got these teenagers bawl over men who sacrifice their lives for a girl with a heart problem

(It's me, im the teenager)

#love and deepspace #otome game #dating sim #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #rafayel #xavier #zayne #love interests #lnd #lads

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kaiaelsher · 2 months

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LnD MC's actual-biological parents after being a nonexistent creature in almost every universe and lifetimes:

#lnd #lads #love and deepspace #xavier #zayne #rafayel #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #caleb love and deepspace #otome game #dating sim #dating sim game #mobile game #glad caleb and granny is there in the main timeli— BOOM‼️💥

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kaiaelsher · 2 months

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— THE PAIN OF TENDERNESS IS A WOUND OF LOVE.

"in lemurian," rafayel starts, thumb tracing seemingly aimless lines along the back of your palm, "another word for love is derived from the word give."

cw: spoiler for chapter 8-9 of rafayel's "sea of golden sands" myth & "fragrant dream" tender moments ; fluff !!! ; very slight angst ; lemuria lore headcanons ; mentions of god of the sea! + abysswalker! rafayel ; the sea god's bride (spoilers: past life mc/reader) is mentioned so it can be implied that the reader is fem aligned (but the fic itself is written with a gn!reader in mind !)

when RAFAYEL had invited you to a museum exhibition, brandishing two tickets that read “TALES FROM THE DEEP SEA: LEMURIA” between his fingers, you had admittedly worried for him; how unsettling must it be, seeing the ruins of your home displayed in a glass case?

... but for now, rafayel seems fine, with your hand in his, as the two of you stare into a display case. a deteriorated marble stele lays inside, yet even in its current state, you can't help but think that there is something beautiful about it. rafayel zeroed in on the slab the moment the two of you walked into this section of the exhibit, and (before you could look at the other shiny items in the display cabinets) he'd dragged you up and towards it. his free hand comes up to gently graze against the glass, indigo-pink eyes holding that familiar far-away gaze. with no hope of reading the engravings on your own, your gaze instead shifts to the museum label:

THE DIVINE BALLAD Marble marriage stele Reportedly excavated at an unknown island located near Lemuria's ruins As observed in many civilisations around the world, the Lemurians too, recorded joyous ceremonies by means of writing on stone. The inscription upon this stele details the marriage of the Lemurian God of the Sea and his human bride in the form of a ballad, perhaps sung during the celebration of this marriage. Although too eroded to be fully transcribed and translated, what we know of the Lemurian language alludes to a great and sweet love between the divine couple.

lemurian is practically a dead language, so you're not too surprised with being met with nothing. you can't help the sigh that leaves you; "there's no translation..."

“with the way they handled it, there's not much left to read.” rafayel clicks his tongue, huffs. his frustration is warranted, given how many of the artifacts you've seen so far have suffered more damage due to past excavation and transportation processes (as admitted by the museum staff.) "... and what little they could get would be translated wrong."

“mind telling me what it says?”

“like the label says, it's a marriage stele.” his eyes look to the museum plaque, to the slab, and then meet your own. the frustration in his eyes melt away the longer you hold his gaze; "i can tell you all about it later, but for now..." he draws you nearer, hand never letting go of yours, and points at a specific set of faded characters along the engravings.

"in lemurian," rafayel starts, thumb tracing seemingly aimless lines along the back of your palm. "there is a word for love that is derived from the word give. they're not wrong when they call it a 'great and sweet love' or whatever, but it's more than that." you notice the slight pout forming on his lips and seeping into his tone, think it's terribly endearing. "there's no real way to translate it properly, i think, although some languages do get pretty close.”

you hum, consider his words, what little rafayel has told you about this sea god, and look back at the plaque, "i guess the best way to describe it is ... he loved her so profoundly he was willing to give her everything?"

rafayel is a tad quieter, then: "yeah, something like that."

( is it any wonder that the god of the sea gave everything that he ever was —his heart, his domain— to his beloved, when all he has ever known was that to love and to give could be said in the same breath? his elders could judge him, damn him to the abyssal rift for what he'd done to them and their divine ocean, but they had doomed him first by teaching him that love and devotion were one and the same. )

you stare at the characters, trace the loops and hard edges of the letters with your eyes, before breaking the silence that had settled between you two: "can you teach me one day?"

"what, lemurian?" he looks up at you, eyebrow raised. you nod, and he's prompted to continue, "wouldn't it be more useful to learn, i don't know, anything else? a language that'd be more useful when we travel, maybe?"

"you know how to speak enough languages for the both of us." you smile, take both his hands in yours, cheeks growing warm from the words that begin to slip from your lips, "... i just think i'd understand you better if i learnt it."

rafayel stills, blinks, looks at you like you've told him something incredibly profound. there's a beat, and suddenly he's chuckling, his hand leaving your grasp to gently cup your cheek as you have his many times before; "god, you're adorable." he leans in to press butterfly kisses along your temple, "yeah, sure, i'll teach you. we can start tomorrow if you want."

( you know it's what he resorts to when the words won't come any other way. he whispers and mutters to himself, hushed words against your skin that you don't understand—all you know is that his tone is reverent, filled with love and a longing fulfilled. perhaps only an old language can hold the centuries worth of waiting he has endured. )

you can't help the way you beam up at him then (that toothy grin always gets his heart rushing, a million and more words for 'cute' flooding his mind at the sight), and your own hand comes up on top of his. "i'm looking forward to it."

"of course." rafayel grins, starting to lead the both of you away to the next display. "we can start with what's on this slate." and you let him lead you, your hand in his, his thumb draws the same lines onto your skin. ( you learn, later, that it's how you write that word—a love that is the same as to give—with a rafayel that chuckles at your flustered form. )

( and perhaps, in the far off future, you remember the words he teaches you. feel them on the tip of your tongue, in the back of your mind, in a time long lost. the latin "desire" cannot compare to the lemurian "devotion." you place his dagger to your chest: i want to give—i love you. he replies, dooms himself: i give you life—i love you too. )

a/n : happy birthday to rafa, my cutest little fish 💕!!! i've devoted many of my mortal possessions & a lot of my brain power to u <\3 this fic is a lil rough but i just. brainrotted too close to the sun.

for creative notes: obviously there is no actual lemurian script written in the game (only voiced in "journey seeker" and in the tome of the sea god in chapter 8 of rafayel's myth) but i was thinking about how in indonesian translations of the bible, the word for god's love is translated to "mengasihi," which can mean "give" and when used in a sentence it'd be like aku mengasihimu or "i give to you" ... and and just thinking about how every time rafayel has shown his love it is by giving or devoting something to you rather than "taking/desiring" something from you (love in english can be derived from / has the same roots in the latin word for "desire"); how you love him so much at the end of the myth that you are willing to give him the heart, but he loves you far too much too, and gives you life at the cost of his own — agape love. cries. sobs.

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kaiaelsher · 2 months

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Where The Ocean Whispers

Happy Rafayel's Day!

𓇼— The Lemurians use special seashells to transmit messages from their heart to one another. Would you like to try?

𓇼— Soft fluff, birthday fluff, confession

𓇼— Masterlist

𓇼— Request a fic

The waves brought layers of white foam to the shore, erasing the intertwined footprints, sand arches and tiny seashells covering two pairs of bare feet almost touching each other. Then, as if to wash away every worry, the cold water faded, leaving behind nothing except a sense of calm and coolness, with a sense of longing for the next wave. The crimson sun glistened well below the horizon, akin to a priceless ruby gradually sinking to the ocean floor.

"Look over there. The sea is swallowing your sun!”

A long finger of his gestured forward. Your gaze followed as you smiled. He was still reminded of the narrative you told about your childhood when you thought that every night, the sun would sink into the sea and rest.

“Now the whole ocean will be warmed, in red and orange, right?” You replied. That was what he said after hearing your story. He seemed so happy and content that you could still remember it and recite every word.

“Maybe we can't paint the sea the color of the sun,” your voice continued, “But we can do this…”

All of a sudden, you hurled water high with your foot. The cool water reached him, splashing a bit on his white shirt. He rolled his eyes at you.

“So you do enjoy being playful like this?”

He bent down, gathered the entire ocean in his hands then flung it in your direction. Like a very gentle wave, seawater fell on your hair and light garment.

After the celebration was over, he and you raced outside to catch the sunset over the sea, leaving your coats and shoes behind. Both of you were drenched.

"That's not fair!" You gave a loud shout. “Did you do that on purpose?”

With a big chuckle, he answered, "That's what we refer to as the blessing of the sea." You have to accept it all.”

“You are the birthday boy. Here, take it all!”

You kept splashing him with saltwater. He persisted nonetheless. Before long, your entire bodies was soaked.

“That's enough, Rafayel. I give up!”

You surrendered by raising both hands. You felt a bit chilled by the breeze. Rafayel hauled you right up to the shore. You had no idea when he had a big towel ready there. He wrapped it around you.

“Hurry. Dry yourself.”

You obediently did as told. Then you gave him another glance. Water dripped from his dark purple curls, framing his small, flawless face. You couldn't take your eyes off the damp shirt that adhered to his body, exposing lines that made you flush. Rafayel took one look at you and immediately covered himself with both hands.

“I'm aware that my beauty can stun others. But if you keep staring at me like that, it would not be proper anymore."

You hid your embarrassed face behind the cotton towel. With a smile, Rafayel enquired:

"So? Do you want to go back inside?”

You gave him a firm shake of your head. “I want to stay here a little longer.”

Not that Rafayel objected. He accompanied you on your beach stroll. You remained quiet. You did not want to go back partly because you could not bear to see the day ended.

It was Rafayel's birthday. You had carefully prepared for an intimate party, with only a few people from his studio and family members attending. You personally made the cake for him and prepared everything yourself. But your heart was still restless as you kept carrying the feeling that this was not enough. You had yet to give him what he truly needed.

You continued to ponder. Rafayel needed what? He was wealthy and famous. He was exceptionally gifted, and he may have lived an extended lifespan. Giving something to someone who has had everything is impossible. If you could give him your heart, you would do so. In a symbolic sense.

Between you and Rafayel was a feeling without a name.

You started off as merely his reluctant bodyguard, someone to take care of his errands. You were not sure when exactly, but the image of him planted roots in your mind like the way he frequently appeared in front of you, provoking you. He was adorable and obnoxious all at once. Although he posed a threat, being around him gave you a sense of security. But you never, ever dared to speak it aloud. Perhaps you were afraid. You feared that the relationship would fizzle out like sea foam the moment you began seeking to give it a name. You made an effort to suppress that emotion, but it kept returning, much like waves finding their way back to the shore.

"What's off?" Rafayel enquired. He came to a stop. His expression was undoubtedly showing concern.

"I'm alright." You dismissed him with a shake of your head. Your heart raced whenever you were close to him. The feeling of being on cloud nine, at the same time realizing that a bottomless black hole was waiting at your feet made you about to lose your mind. You hated this feeling, yet also addicted to it. Like the way you were addicted to his very existence. Perfect like a dream.

His cool hand was placed on your forehead. He frowned and said:

“It seems your temperature is a bit high.”

You retreated a step, rejecting his touch. It was as if there was poison from his body that would seep into your heart, and you would drive yourself to a slow death if you could not touch him again.

“I'm fine.” With a resolute reply, you took a seat on the sand, a little wet from the waves. “I'm just a little tired… Let me sit here for a bit…”

Rafayel looked at you with a puzzled expression. He was curious to know what else you were planning to do. But you hid your face in the white towel. He sighed.

"I'll go fetch you some exquisite seashells then. Maybe it will make you feel better.”

You gave a little nod, glancing at Rafayel's back as it absorbed the last bit of sunlight on a peaceful day. This scene was a bit familiar, like the first time you had by chance met him on the street.

Rafayel knelt to get something that the waves had just carried. He held it tenderly in his palm, studied it for a moment, and then came over to you.

“Look what I've just found.” A fairly large shell weaved together in shades of orange-red and ivory-white was what he held out in front of you. You had never seen a shell with such a special hue like this before.

"So beautiful!" You exclaimed as Rafayel plopped down next to you on the sand. Your heart raced again as he sat so near.

“You know, the Lemurians often use shells like this to transmit messages to each other.”

He twisted it in his hand to examine it more closely before placing it in your palm.

“Do you want to give it a shot?”

You raised the shell quite a bit. Its hue was nearly identical to that of the horizon's sunset. You said:

“Show me how to do it.”

“Just tell the seashell what you want to say the most right now.”

“Is that all?”

“Yup. That's all. But what you say to it must come from the heart. It will find the person whom you want to send this to, no matter where they are.”

You looked at Rafayel. He appeared so honest, but this story was too much of a fairy tale and not very realistic. You did not know if he was just making this up to tease you. Then again, you once thought the Lemurians never existed. But here he was, sitting next to you.

You put the seashell to your lips, gave him another glance, and then murmured something to it.

Once you were done, you gave it to Rafayel.

“It's yours.”

His lips curled into a dazzling smile, as though he knew you would give it back to him.

“Hmmm.” Rafayel took the shell and leaned it close to his ear. He gestured as if he was concentrating hard to listen. Then he said with disappointment evident on his face: “I don't hear any message.”

"What? How is that possible?" You were impatient.

“Do you want to try again?”

He returned the shell to your hand. This time, you took a deep breath and looked at him while whispering your thoughts.

“Still nothing.” After listening to it for a second time, Rafayel said. “Are you sure you sent the message with all your heart?”

You replied sullenly: "Of course... Maybe since I'm not a Lemurian, I can't make it work."

Rafayel held your hand and put the shell in it. “Try it once more?”

"I doubt that anything will be different this time around." You gazed at the shell in your hand with boredom. “I was just going to… give you one more gift to make your birthday special…”

“My day is already quite special.” Rafayel's bright smile made the distant sunset dim, and suddenly you caught his warmth. “Thank you so much, for organizing a party for me. To be honest, though, I don't like partying as much as going to the sea with you like this."

Listening to his words, you found yourself smiling. You took off the towel that was wrapped around you, letting it fall freely onto the sand. You held the brilliant seashell in your hands, this time determined to let him hear your heart out.

Rafayel nodded and smiled at you as encouragement. You closed your eyes tightly, and lips slightly parted. You had a feeling that it could read my thoughts whether you said them out loud or not.

I really like, really like, really like Rafayel.

I like the way you concentrate when holding a paintbrush, as if the whole world is spread out before your eyes.

I like your terrified look when surrounded by cats.

I like it when you overdo things or act like a drama queen just to get my attention.

I like the bright colors you paint in my sky when it's gray.

I like the way you tease and then comfort me.

I like how your gentle touches are enough to keep me up at night.

I like everything about you.

Maybe, I love you, Rafayel. So much.

The shell was brought towards Rafayel, but halted midway. You wavered. Once he knew your feelings, would he still be by your side? Or would he throw this shell into the ocean along with your heart, letting it dissolve into bubbly white foam?

Rafayel looked at you and smiled. Even though he had laughed many times, you'd never seen him as happy as he was at that moment. There was an increased shine in his eyes, as if pearls were rising to the surface and ready to burst out the corners of his eyes. Happiness. You had never captured such a genuine moment of pure happiness like this.

He took the shell from your hand, but there was no need to listen to it anymore. He leaned closer to you and whispered:

“The words from your heart have been received by the person you wanted to send them to… You have no idea how long he waited just to hear those words… I love you too. So much."

When you felt soft lips touching yours, little did you know; that Lemurian man had heard what you said the first time he put his ear to the shell. He merely wanted to hear it one more time, and another. He wanted to hear you confess being able to confess to you; this day, the day after, and the day after that...

Until the ocean runs dry.

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kaiaelsher · 2 months

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REALREALREALREAL, thank you reader fic writers🙆🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙆🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙆🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙆🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

I swear "x reader" fanfic writers save lives. You feel lonely and touch starved? Get some cuddle content! Everything kinda sucks right now? This character want nothing more than to comfort you! And they do requests, FOR FREE?! They are some of the most creative creators I've seen. I always feel better reading yalls content. Makes me feel less alone. And for the people who are like "that's so cringe," you know what's more cringe? Criticising people having harmless fun.

"x reader" author appreciation!

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kaiaelsher · 2 months

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Shitted twice today and it's only 8 am in the morning i hope it's smelly enough it could summon rafayel's birthday card.

#love and deepspace #otome game #rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #lnd #lads #dating sim #im desperate at this point ok

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kaiaelsher · 2 months

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Love him for that

#he's my babygirl

I've beaten Monster Hunter World twenty four times, watched all seven of my kids enrol into university, run for prime minister and a second term for fun, conquered the seven seas, and found the One Piece in the time that you made me wait. — RAFAYEL, probably.

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kaiaelsher · 2 months

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Guys do you think the reason why Xavier often destroys the protocore he found after he finished the wanderers is bc he's been wandering to search for protocores (for mc's heart) for far too long so when he sees a protocore that's not precious enough/wasn't one he searched for, he just immediately destroy it and it became a habit. 😀

(Translation of this whole post: suffer with me)

#xavier #love and deepspace xavier #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #otome game #mobile game #dating sim #yeah this is quite a headcanon lol #my heart broke for the men there omg

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kaiaelsher · 2 months

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“Soulmate.”

You keep having these little moments of Deja-vu with Rafayel.

Rafayel x Reader

Love and deepspace fan fiction

No warnings.

No use of Y/n. Gender neutral reader. Read in the second person. Established relationship. Shorter fan fiction. Maybe a series?

. . . . . 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 “ coming back to you. “

Recently, something strange has been happening. Especially whenever you’re with your boyfriend, Rafayel. This hasn’t happened before, sure you had gotten vague moments where you swore something had happened before but this was different, it was as if you had experienced it before.

The first time it happened, you were sitting alone in the art studio, laying on your back as you stared up at the book you held above you. You didn’t even notice Rafayel had gotten back until he was hovering over you with a sweet but ridiculous smile, looking very proud of himself as he watched you jump in surprise. You sat up and he pressed a swift kiss to your forehead, “Miss me?” He asked. You paused. This had happened before, your mind had told you.

Now you were sitting in a field, empty other than the plants and yourself. You wore clothes much different than now, almost as if you had time traveled. A book fell into your lap as someone shouted a ‘boo.’ You whipped around and found a man with glittering purple and pink eyes and fluffy purple hair beside you. He was wearing something strange too, a mask over the lower half of his face and clothes as if he were cosplaying some assassin. You sighed softly and shook your head, scolding him, however he shut you up with a swift kiss to your cheek as he asked you, “Did you miss me?”

It didn’t happen just once, either. But after that, it happened more frequently. It was more than confusing, you didn’t even have the words to describe the feeling. It wasn’t only confusing though, sometimes it was pleasant. Like that one time..

You sigh frustratingly as you stare at your drawing, Rafayel chuckling softly from behind you. He rested his chin against your shoulder, “you seem frustrated.” You nodded, explaining that no matter how hard you tried it didn’t come out right. He simply rubbed shapes into your side with his hand, “it’s perfect. And that is a very high compliment coming from the one and only Rafayel.” He gently pulled you into his body as you let go of the drawing pad “take a break. I’m feeling needy.”

Now, you’re in a beautiful library. You sat on a couch, messaging your temple as you looked sternly at your drawing. It was of the masked man. And you felt a chin against your shoulder, arms around your waist, and heard a familiar voice you had memorized, asking you the same questions. “If you keep doing that you’ll get wrinkles.” He commented at your furrowed brows. Your lover gently pulled you back into his chest and you set aside the paper, feeling much too tired to even pretend to fight. He traced imaginary shapes into your back and told you “take a break. Let your oh so brilliant mind rest. I know mine needs to sometimes.”

“You’re thinking very hard about something, aren’t you?” Rafayel called from his easel. You glanced up. He was painting you as he usually did when he needed inspiration. You nodded slightly, and looked at him with furrowed brows. A question lingered at the tip of your tongue but you silenced it. Rafayel put down his brush and walked over, kneeling in front of you, “well? Don’t keep me waiting. Something’s running through your head and it isn’t me, better hurry and tell me what it is before I get jealous.” He joked.

You chuckled faintly and he took your hand in his, pressing it into his hair because he knew how much you loved to play with it when you were thinking about something. You looked into his eyes, searching them. There was no judgement or anything of the sort, only light heartedness and pure adoration for you. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

Rafayel raised a brow and leaned into your hand as it ran through his silky hair. How it was so well maintained, you had no idea. It was like those commercials for shampoo. “Sure.. why?” He now had moved on from playful jokes, he was serious, searching your face for a reason to why you asked such a question.

You hummed softly, nails scratching his scalp lightly as you spoke “do you think that we’re soulmates?” There was a long silence as his eyes gazed off to just beyond you, thinking, so you started to talk again. “It sounds silly, whatever just humor me. I just get this feeling that we are. One of us made the promise to find each other over and over again. I wouldn’t mind it. I like the idea. I don’t know-“ you sighed as you started to realize you were rambling.

Rafayel just smiled at you. A tender, loving smile that lit fireworks within your chest. He nodded slowly, pulling your hand to rest against his cheek “I think we are. If there’s anything we’re here for it’s each other.” He pressed a kiss to your wrist, and it happened again.

Similar circumstances, same answers, different time. Rafayel knelt before you, kissing your wrist before he said “I know we are. I am far too in love and far too stubborn to let you go in any universe.”

“I would always find you.” Rafayel stated sternly. “I will. You will too, won’t you?” He asked.

You laughed, nodding. “Do you even have to ask?”

“Do you promise?” He moved to sit next to you, taking both of your hands in his. You nodded, taking his pinkie finger and wrapping it around yours.

“I promise.” You confirmed, pressing a kiss to your interlocked fingers. He was pleased, clearly. He had a sweet smile and engulfed you in his arms, falling back into the couch as he held onto you like his life depended on it.

“What would you ever do without your devilishly handsome and very talented boyfriend?” He asked. There it was. You laughed, shaking your head.

“We’ll never know, will we?” You asked, cuddling in closer to him. He hummed, content with your answer.

“You’re right. Your brains and my beauty, a perfect match. No one could tell me we weren’t soulmates, were too perfect for each other:” he smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You knew he’d think about this conversation often. He’d send you posts about soulmates and get you little charms that alluded to it, and you would love it. You knew you would. He knew you would too, because he knew you like the back of his hand.

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kaiaelsher · 2 months

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Hot take: Caleb returning as love interest would be weird as fuck.

"But they're not blood-relat-" no.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace video game #otome game #dating sim game #love interest #zayne #xavier #rafayel #caleb #“but they're not blood relat—” no.

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kaiaelsher · 3 months

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-> a/n: first time writing for my lil fishie :’)) pls be nice 2 me xx

Rafayel wants to paint you.

A portrait of his beloved as seen through his Lemurian eyes, something for him to keep and gaze upon on those days when you’re not there in the flesh. Though why you wouldn’t be by his side, he’ll never know, but still - just in case. He’ll never say it aloud but he does yearn for you so terribly when you’re away.

“Sit right… there. Perfect. Now whatever you do, don’t move an inch.”

You huff in annoyance as you hold the simple pose he’s put you in. You’re just glad it’s nothing weird or complex. “Couldn’t you have just used a photo?”

Scoffing, he looks at you from over the top of his easel with a look of mild disgust at the notion. “As if. The colours in photographs aren’t always true to life and I want this to be lifelike.”

“I thought portraits weren’t your thing?” you ask him curiously.

He smirks as he swirls his brush in fresh paint. “That doesn’t mean I can’t paint one, baby.”

There’s a sense of serenity that settles over the two of you as he works. A hushed breeze flutters through the open windows, bringing with it the faint scent of the ocean. His brush swooshes against the canvas with every stroke, and he hums and mumbles to himself as he tilts his head thoughtfully, casting glances at you every so often.

When Rafayel paints, it’s like he turns into a different person. He grows quieter, more pensieve, retreating to a place within himself where his hands are guided by an unknown force, beyond his own conscious thought. Once, he explained it to you and all you could do was blink at him dumbfounded, concluding that it was just one of those ‘artist quirks’. But it’s always interesting to watch him work, an artform in and of itself. His steady, practised hands, the way his wrist flicks with a flourish of the tool in hand, long fingers curled around it elegantly.

Day bleeds into dusk, the hours stretching past you as the sun begins to dip beneath the horizon. Your legs and backside ache from being sat in the same way for such a long period of time and you’re about to open your mouth to complain to your boyfriend but he steps away from his easel and cocks his head to the side in scrutiny of his work. A look of frustration crosses his features as his eyes flick between the canvas and your face.

“... Are you done?” you ask and he nods imperceptibly, his attention split between the painting and your voice.

“Yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

“Hmm. No.”

“Why not?”

Frowning, he folds his arms over his chest. “Because I don’t like it.”

Rising from your seat, you groan quietly as you stretch out your limbs and walk over to him to peer at his creation. To you, it’s faultless, like looking in a mirror. You tell him as much, not quite sure what the problem is. He sighs and runs a hand through his lavender hair, a pout forming on his lips. “It doesn’t look anything like you!”

“Are we looking at the same painting?” you giggle, amused by his little tantrum.

“Apparently not! Come here.” Gently, he tugs you by the bicep to stand beside the painting. “The differences are so obvious!”

To Rafayel, they are. The curves of your cheeks aren’t as endearing, the way your bright smile reaches your sparkling eyes isn’t as captivating, the slope of your nose and the texture of your soft, soft lips are all wrong on the canvas.

And the colours? The ones that are flecked throughout your irises, the ones that thread through your hair and dapple your skin, the shades on the canvas are far removed from reality. It’s nowhere near close enough and it does you no justice. Splodges and strokes of paint cannot hope to carry the life and vibrancy in you.

The sun dips lower, pouring burnished light through the tall windows in his studio, and you squint as a beam of it falls over your eyes. Rafayel looks at you again and the brush in his hand clatters to the floor, a soft, barely audible gasp leaving his lips.

You’re soaked in lavender and roses, burnt oranges and fire and he has never seen anything quite so ethereal. And it’s then that it dawns on him. This is impossible, a truly fruitless endeavour. It’s impossible to capture love within the confines of paint and canvas and pencil when there are times where he can’t even explain the thumping in his heart. How could he pour all of his love into this one piece when there’s oceans upon oceans of it, so deep and undiscovered that he can’t describe it, even with all the colours of the world at his disposal.

Frustration gives way to surrender, and he offers you a handsome, half smile, reaching out to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Never mind,” he says softly, paint-smudged fingertips whispering over the line of your jaw. “I don’t need a painting. I have you. Right before my very eyes.”

#rafayel x reader #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel drabble #you can see me dying in the kitchen #IT'S SO GOOD WHAT #more of him pls im thirsty

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kaiaelsher · 3 months

Text

LOVING THIS FIC OMG😭🫶🏻

in disbelief ⤫

➢ summary requested: in what world has a man like zayne ever been on a date? or, zayne’s coworkers can’t believe that he has a lover

➢ content: zayne x fem!reader; 1564 words; fluff & crack myb; medical drama vibes but not really, i clearly do not know how hospitals work

➢ notes: just to make sure i googled if doctors could date their patients and it said no so we’re not gonna listen to that bc i wanna stay sorta true to canon and bc ur so cool as a hunter and he's ur hot doctor ok enjoy 😉 (some of the characters & references are from his anecdotes & text chats)

Greyson leaves Zayne’s office with a look of shock written all over his face. There was, a smile. A real, legitimate smile on the cardiac surgeon’s face that shouldn’t be there considering the three surgeries during their current fourteen hour shift. Though it was nearing the end, Zayne never did more than sigh when he was off the clock.

“Are you alright, Dr. Greyson?” The head nurse calls out to him from the end of the hall. It seemed that he was leaning against the door for some time now and his reaction was still lingering. “Did something happen?” Greyson shakes his head and walks away from the office, though Nurse Lia follows him as he gestures for her to.

Once they round the corner, he keeps his voice low.

“I think Dr. Zayne has a girlfriend.”

“What? Are you sure?” Nurse Lia then catches her volume too loud so she turns her head around but she didn’t quite check if there was no one else around. She whispers, “Did you figure out who?”

“I knew it!” The two turn their heads to the side to where the supply closet was. There, to their surprise, stood the old janitor who had his arms crossed with the mop placed precariously in its bucket.

“Mr. Kelly…” Nurse Lia says carefully but Greyson only laughs. The janitor shakes his head.

“After being here for years, you get some joy observing how you all change. And I’ve had that assumption for months now.”

“Well, well, it looks like we’re not the only ones noticing some change.”

“Or making a bet,” in steps one of the older residents, Dr. Roland, “my money’s still on that girl from the cafe.” Greyson pats his shoulder as he passes by.

“I think you’re going to lose then—I think it’s his designated hunter.”

“What about that young lady he takes walks with every Thursday.”

“Wow, you really have been on observation duty.”

“Well, whoever it is,” Nurse Lia starts, “we’re not even sure if he has a lover. Those three could just all be friends.” She turns to Greyson, “What did you even see in there that makes you say so.”

Greyson thinks back to what exactly made him so shocked, and he was certain that it wasn’t just the smile.

When he had walked in to bring a file he needed to look over with Zayne, the surgeon was standing near his window looking far off across the buildings. It wasn’t unusual to catch him doing so but what was, was the fact that he hadn’t even heard Greyson come it. His assistant had cleared his throat and he swore that Zayne flinched a little before asking for what he was doing there.

The next action took him by the most surprise. When Greyson begins to leave, Zayne’s phone buzzes on the table and never in his life did Greyson see a man flip it over at the speed of light. And that wasn’t all.

Greyson was already walking towards the door but with one last look over his shoulder to say his goodbyes for the night: there was that smile. A full blown not-a-small-grin smile.

He tells this to Nurse Lia, Janitor Kelly, and Dr. Ronald. They exchange knowing looks.

“Ah,” Mr. Kelly says, “this old man’s seen too much.”

—

Word seems to get around quickly so that the cafeteria is full of going over reports, eating, and talking. And the topic?

Dr. Zayne’s love life.

John the intern sits at one of the tables trying to go over his notes but he can’t help but eavesdrop on the other interns beside him. He wasn’t one to indulge in gossip, since he wasn’t much of a social person, but after being around Dr. Greyson, he kind of rubbed off on him.

“Apparently he’s had a girlfriend all this time?”

“I mean, any one with any personality can, but I can’t see Dr. Zayne of all people being in a relationship with anyone.”

“To be fair, we’ve known him for like four months now.”

Being assigned to the Division of Cardiac Surgery ensures that John sees Dr. Zayne at least once a week whether that be to shadow him during surgeries, nearly feel him watching over his shoulder as he does his own surgeries, and going over cases and file’s in the doctor’s office.

He doesn’t notice anything unusual, though, John chalks it up to the fact that he’s more nervous about making mistakes during work and can barely think about anything but his notes. But his peers seem to be the same amount of stressed and still had time to think about this stuff.

Maybe it was their mental break or something. He could try to join in.

“John,” he freezes at the call of his name. They were all familiar with each other already so in break rooms they just referred to one another with their first names. The one who called on him was another cardiac intern. “Have you noticed anything strange about Dr. Zayne?”

John really thinks about it, but again, his notes. So he shakes his head.

“It would be interesting if there was someone.”

“Why?”

“It’d make him seem less… mean? That’s not really the right word to describe him.” The intern to his left muses. “Human, maybe?”

If you really think about it, Zayne wasn’t a mean person. Sure, he was stoic and calculated, but his actions showed more warmth than one could guess. You just had to get to know him past the rumors. John thinks about that old man.

By coincidence, Dr. Zayne walks in to get some lunch and everyone is suddenly quieter. They watch with hawk-like eyes as he quickly grabs his food. When he turns, there’s a glint of a key that hangs over his white coat pocket.

It’s covered by the face of a cute penguin.

“He definitely has a girlfriend.” An intern says and John can’t help but agree.

—

Doris finds herself exhausted from the recent surgery. She’s been a surgeon for a good chunk of years but one can never say that it doesn’t get tiring. And with a doctor like Zayne, she knew that the patient was in good hands.

The surgery was to place an implantable cardioverter-defibrillator in a man who was at high risk for a cardiac arrest. He had a history of heart problems already and had joked around with everyone that his wife was the main cause for his heart palpitations. The man was a delight to be around and told jokes when he could. Doris thinks back to one particular one that it has her chuckling to herself.

“What’s so funny?” Dr. Greyson walks over to where she’s sitting and she shakes her head. She sees that Dr. Zayne was walking with him as well.

“Thinking about what Mr. Wen told us before his surgery. ‘If you steal someone’s heart, do you get cardiac arrested?’” Doris laughs again despite herself and Greyson, ever the cheerful guy, does the same.

Though, neither would have expected a reaction from the other. Zayne lets out a small chuckle (there was a twinkle in his eyes, Doris could attest) and when the two doctors whip their heads to face him, he turns his own and mutters about needing to finish work in his office.

—

You didn’t think it was too much to wait for him, despite what he says. Two hours wasn’t too bad and if anything, you were able to browse the hospital giftshop to pass the time. Greyson had greeted you out in the waiting room before your appointment and you knew him as Zayne’s assistant. He was a nice guy who held pleasant conversation, but there was a certain tone in his voice that had some ulterior motive. It felt like he was trying to analyze you.

You simply shrugged it off and went about the rest of your wait at that gift shop then.

outside to enjoy the rest of the day before the sun set. Waiting for Zayne wasn’t uncommon, but today was a good day to try the special dinner menu at that cafe you both frequented.

The two hours pass by quickly when you see him exit the hospital doors and his eyes light up upon seeing you sitting down on the stone.

“I told you to wait inside. It’s cold out.”

“It’s 68 degrees.”

“There’s wind.” You smile and shake your head, allowing him to lead the two of you to the parking spaces for his car.

—

The cafe looks like a different type of cozy in the night time with the fairy lights being the only things illuminating the entire building. The dinner menu isn’t too different but it was still new and worth a try.

“Did you like it?” Zayne asks as the bell rings behind him, signaling that another customer has arrived. You nod happily and he reaches over the table to place his right hand over your left. He feels a spread of warmth through his chest at the feeling of metal under his finger.

—

Ronald has the same look on his face Greyson had weeks ago. And all he wanted was to try the new menu.

“Dr. Ronald?” Lia and Greyson were there with him. Mr. Kelly is not too far away. “What—“

He pauses and looks right at them.

“He’s married.”

#love and deepspace #zayne x reader #love and deepspace fluff #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne fluff #fics

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kaiaelsher · 3 months

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—too much of a coward.

: In which, you are the witness of the blooming heliotrope flower, that unfortunately, came to wither. All while you yourself must bury your own blooming flower in the deepest pit of your heart with the soil excuse of a 'friend'.

Cw: short, implied f!reader, reader's feeling is unrequited, Helio loves Medea, took place where Medea and Eros' wedding is coming near, heartbroken Helio, heavy angst (that i hope could hurt you all enough), not proofread, english is not my first language nor the language i mastered so expect grammar errors here and there

A/N: this is my first time actually writing fic (in tumblr) bc i want to keep this fandom alive, bare with me pls.

—————

Helio Niccolo's feelings towards Medea Solon is something everyone is capable of knowing once they see how their dynamic were.

Countable, or, countless night spent twisting themselves together, tangled behind the closed door that no one should know. Yet, it might be the weight of Helio's overwhelming love that filled this world of theirs; the whispered words of Helio and Medea's relationship were scattering all across the Empire of Vasilios.

You know it, too. A bare-eyed witness, even.

You've witnessed how Helio was back then a cheerful, cute little kid with strong idealism of good and bad; shiny like no others can do. That is the exact thing that you adore deeply about him, you witness the stormy event that crumbled Niccolo's castles like a short terrifying nightmare in the embrace of foggy night time, you remember how you desperately call for wake, but unfortunately enough; those are all horrendous reality you two need to face.

Marquess and Marchioness Niccolo —Helio's parents who treats you like their own, even though you're nothing but a friend who had frequent visit since you find nothing to play with at your own home— is gone in a blink of an eye.

You also witness how one of your dearest friend; Sana, is also gone.

As much as you suffered, you can never fathom how the actual victim of this tragedy felt, Helio; who slowly lose the glisten on his eye by the time, who slowly lose his all his expression but the stoic face that the 'you' back then would never be capable of imagining is ever going to be displayed on your bestfriend's face. It is his everyday expression now, to other nobles, to the servants, to you, to all people. All, but Medea.

Despite the feelings that you've been having for him, you decide it's the best to step back, you watch as Helio fall deeper and deeper to the charm of Medea Solon as time passes. You remained steady on your place as his bestfriend, showing no one how you truly felt, even as your heart shattered, you could never utter a single complain.

Because you've always been too much of a coward, you know how it perfectly made sense that someone such as Helio would fall for his very savior. You've always been too much of a coward, you decide to stay quiet, watching how the man you love is also shattered by the very love that kept him alive but would be his only reason to die. In the midst of all those things, the only thing you offer was a refused embrace.

You know how Helio would be shattered, you knew Medea, too. And you know how their relationship would never find a way for more. You know how Medea would always be the type of person who chase for the highest. She now might be soften out by the warm light reflection of Psyche Callista, but 'Medea' and 'stopping' is a word combination you think would never suit each other.

Because Medea is not bound for peace. It's as if her fate has been decided on the very moment of her existence.

Yet, you were not prepared by how bad it would be at the end.

"Heli ..." between the suffocated throat, you called upon the man that decide to drowns himself in the darkness of his chamber. It's been days, days after he visited Medea, you did not know what happen, but Helio's conditon worsen after that.

"It's been days ... please eat at least a little," you can no longer count how many times your whispered plea is uttered, all for him to accept at least a bite of a bread the servants had prepared, even your throat feel so sore right now, "I know you are not in the mood to, but please ... for your well-being-"

"Leave me alone, [Name]."

"No," you shook your head, "Heli, please ... you need to eat, you have only been drinking water these days."

Silence is the answer to your plea, you can feel your heart clenching along with your fingers that tighten its grip on the end of food tray the servants have given you, it's dark and suffocating in this chamber despite it being day time. His butler is not even allowed to enter.

"What am I taking care of myself for?" His voice is finally heard again, "to keep myself alive so that I can witness Duchess' wedding?"

You can not bring yourself to answer.

"The Duchess wanted to part ways, [Name]," he continued, "I am no longer needed, so why would I need to stay alive? Let me rot in this place."

Your heart dropped at his words. Really, Medea said that? Your throat is way too pained to even swallow your own saliva, you can feel the growing ache in the bridge of your nose and the suffocation in your chest that endlessly continue to grow. Even your fingers are now stinging due to you gripping too hard on the end of the food's tray.

You wondered.

Had you been more careful, had you been at least a little bit more witty, Helio wouldn't end up this way, wouldn't it? If only you were brave enough to point out your suspicion towards his uncle back then, wouldn't it not be too late? Had you been more vocal about how you have bad feelings about the previous butler, it would've been way easier to tackle them down. No matter how much you wanted to tell yourself that it was alright, because you were still a kid back then, the louder voice in your head screamed.

But Medea Solon was a kid, too.

Your upper teeth graze itself over your lower lip, you didn't know since when did your vision turned blurry, it can only direct itself on the covered warm food that is slowly turning cold, you ignored the silent grumble in your stomach as you were too busy in preventing even a single sob came out.

"I'm sorry ..." you whispered between your bated breath.

Even though you could not see what Helio's expression is like, you can already feel his gaze that is now directed at you. You have no nerve to see his now messy state, usually neat silver locks of his is now undeniably messy, dark circle under his eyes were not dark enough to cover his beauty.

Even after all years passed, you can not fathom any other beauty beside his. Despite all the men you've dated and spent nights with, Helio somehow never moved his place from being the number one in your heart.

"If you were saying sorry because you pity me-"

"No, it's not," you interrupted, "I apologize, Heli."

There are too many reasons that leads you to apologize to him until you cannot fathom what were you apologizing for. Was it because you are not much of a help for him these past few years? Was it because you are unable to help him right now? Was it because you have the audacity to grow feelings for him yet still being unhelpful? Is it because you, once again, is too much of a coward?

"Had I been more helpful ... you would never end up this way, sorry for being unable to do great things despite being your only friend- sorry for still being weak and made you fear that I will also disappear like everyone else. I am sorry that I cannot assure you enough with my strength like how the Duchess do-"

You should not have cried, you should have been the one who is strong enough to contain Helio's contained tears that you wanted him to pour into you, knowing how he is the one who suffered the most. But here you are, weeping infront of him who does not show a single glistening reflection of tear.

"As shameful as it sounds, I beg you, Heli, please ..." your trembling hand loosen its hold from the tray, showing the reddened line mark on your finger, you placed the tray on the surface of your lap that is clothed with skirt of dress, "just like how you would take care of Medea in her sorrow, let me also take care of you. If you do not think you are still capable of taking care of yourself."

Pathetic, isn't it?

Both of you knew, it was a way of you confessing your love that has been kept hidden throughout all these years. Neither of you can actually confess feeling in a correct way, despite you being the most experienced with love confessions, here you are, unable to utter those three words. Because to the three of you the word "love", should never be said.

Because you're too much of a coward.

—

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kaiaelsher · 3 months

Text

Yes yes, I know Rafayel is a silly, dramatic, goofy, yapping beloved King. BUT HEAR ME OUT, LOOK AT HIM WHEN HE'S SERIOUS OMG?😭😭 I think that side of him is often so overlooked when he's literally so hot when he's being like that?? He's actually so witty, too.

All in all, all i could say is that i would allow him do whatever thing whether it be the most vile, upsetting, horrendous, tulmutrous things to me and all im doing is get on my knees and place my forehead to the ground then thank him repeatedly.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #he's my beloved #chapter 8 omg???#he's so hot #otome game #been rafayel girlie since day 1 #sassy men raise #aughhh

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kaiaelsher · 6 months

Note

CRYING

can u please make a dokja x reader... about 49/51 specifically..... (could be technically a 49 x reader x 51...?) hurt/comfort please since we all need therapy o)-(

Omniscient Reader Viewpoint You Should've Been Greedy

Summary: In which you are a constellation who has supported Kim Dokja from the very beginning, and you (desperately) want to see a happy end.

Pairing: Kim Dokja x F! Reader

Note: Hey Anon, I hope this kind of fits your request! Hopefully this could be a comfort to us depressed readers after finishing ORV.

Readers Unite! We have to protect our little (ugly) squid.

Warning: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE NOVEL, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

★・・・・・・★

“You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

You wish you could scream those words until the world hears you, until “Kim Dokja” believes you.

“He” who has read, planned, fought, and “died” for the world.

He was a reader.

You, who have watched, supported, believed, and “died” for him.

You were a bystander.

You were one of the many constellations that supported Kim Dokja Company until the very end. You who loved them all, and cherished them with your lifeline.

In a world where the lines between existence and oblivion were blurred, you found yourself standing at the crossroads of two fractured souls.

[The constellation ‘The Lady Bathing the Moon’ is watching you with sad eyes]

The 49% and the 51% Kim Dokja, each carrying their own burdens, their own regrets.

The 49% Kim Dokja, fading like the last remnants of a dying star, was a shadow of his former self. His memories, once vivid and precious, were slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. His eyes, once filled with life, were now dull and haunted.

You wanted to hug him, tell him he’s enough.

(You sat by him and cuddled him in your bunny form, hoping he would wake up)

The 51% Kim Dokja, the last vestige of the original, bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was strong, but even the strongest had their breaking points. His facade of resilience hid a profound loneliness that gnawed at his very core.

(You want to find him)

Oh, how you want to reach out, and tell him he’s worth everything.

And then there was you, the bystander, who saw him fracture himself into 2 halves.

You regret, and regret, until you couldn’t anymore.

[The constellation ‘The Lady Bathing the Moon’ is praying to the constellation ‘Demon King of Salvation’]

You no longer wanted to be a bystander.

You who has lost so much of your spark, reached out to Kim Dokja Company and proposed a solution.

[Please let me borrow a bit of your power]

“Why are you working so hard to save him? Didn’t you lose most of your power?” Han Sooyoung asks (bitterly), as she stared at your bunny stuff animal.

Your light flickers, a moment of power surge through your eyes.

[The constellation ‘The Lady Bathing the Moon’ hesitates for an unknown reason]

[I…want to be greedy]

Your voice faded slightly, but your tone remains undoubtedly resolute.

Your response silenced them all, until one stepped forward.

“Here.” Yoo Joonghyuk approached your light, and shook your hand.

“Tch, this guy.” Han Sooyoung rolled her eyes, but also went up to shake your hand. The others looked at one another, and then they smiled (their eyes were as tired as the Moon).

[Thank you]

“Hey! We’re putting our trust in you!”

Another bunny appeared and hopped energetically before it turned towards the sky. It flew far away, brighter than any star out there in the night sky.

They watched, before they left to prepare for a backup plan.

Because they loved Kim Dokja just as much as you.

To them, you were the Lady of the Moon from the Emperor Nebula, and despite everything in the past, they knew you as one of their main pillars of support. They could trust you.

Their power allowed your bunny spirit to run, to fly across space like a comet soaring through the sky. You who searched and searched, until you saw him.

A young teenager sitting in the middle of the train, no longer an adult or a shadow of the person he was.

You went through the doors of the subway car, hopped towards his feet, and headbutted him, hoping to wake him.

“Who…are you?”

You freeze, a feeling of bitterness rises to your throat, but you hold back and smile.

[I am a bunny who likes to fly, who are you?]

“My name is…Kim Dokja.” He says with a hint of recognition, and he slowly wrap his hands around the bunny, surprised at the rabbit’s fluffiness.

Without a word, you rub your head on his hand, offering a lifeline to the memories slipping away. Feeling the warmth, he hugged you (even without knowing why).

“Thank…you.”

(You felt the 49% Kim Dokja move his fingers, ever so slightly)

For the first time, he allowed himself to let go of some of the burdens he had carried for so long. He rested his head on your body, he let out a sigh, a silent acknowledgment.

You could feel the pain radiating from both of them, the silent cries for help that they couldn't put into words.

The subway continued to move as if nothing was wrong.

[Do you want to come with me?]

[I can’t.]

He says without moving, and gently pats your head.

[You can go back for a moment, and I will stay here in your place. The space is my home.]

He pauses briefly at the temptation, but stays firm.

[You’re not a reader]

[I am an observer, but also one who listens. If you go back, you can tell me your stories as if you are praying to the Moon.]

You peeked up, seeing the child’s contemplating face.

You smiled.

[Go child, go to where you belong]

You nudged him with your head, and he saw a bright light from your hand.

The light you and his friends created just for him.

[Don’t hesitate now, they are waiting for you]

When he lowered his head, his eyes showed uncertainty but slight excitement and relief.

[Thank you]

You cup his cheeks with your bunny paws and smile.

[Whenever you feel lonely, the Moon shall bless you every night]

To his surprise, he felt sleepy, comfortable as if he was in someone’s embrace. When he opened his eyes again, he saw your silhouette.

He felt like he saw you before.

[Farewell, Kim Dokja]

Where has he seen you before?

“Kim Dokja!”

He opened his eyes to bright light, blinding him immediately. He shielded himself and heard all sorts of noise around him, some of surprise, tearful, disbelief, relief, and excitement.

“Hyung! How are you feeling?”

“Kim Dokja! You finally woke up. Do you know how worried we were?”

When he finally came to, he saw everyone, and felt tears automatically roll down his cheeks.

“Wait, we need to make sure.” Han Sooyoung walked up to him with her arms crossed.

“What is this emo bastard’s name?” Han Sooyoung pointed to the man who looked like he was going to kill her later.

With a hoarse laugh, Kim Dokja replied, despite trying to wipe away all of his tears. .

“Sunfish Bastard.”

“Kim Dokja.”

“No, I am Yoo Joonghyuk.”

But his smile was so bright.

At that moment, everyone rushed to hug him.

Even in his happiness moment, he felt like he forgot something important?

“Hey, why are you talking to the Moon?”

“I don’t know…I just felt like…there’s always something to say.” He concluded lamely, but he saw Han Sooyoung come to a short realization.

She sat beside him and put two hands together too.

“Fine, I’ll do it with you too.”

(In the distance, a bunny watches as she fades away from Earth)

(At the subway station far far away, you sat in your true form as you listened to old and new stories.)

[Be happy, our dear reader]

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