#rafayel l&ds

[eclipixels]

Sink

Rafayel x Reader

Content: You can't swim, unbeknownst to Rafayel

[2,132 words]

      You never learned how to swim. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to, you just… never did. Somehow, life had just happened, and the skill had never made it onto your list of priorities. Honestly, you were still surprised they let you pass the hunter's exam without it. In hindsight, maybe that should’ve been a red flag.

      What you definitely never expected was to end up dating a Lemurian, whose entire thing was swimming.It had never been a problem before.

      Until now.

      Rafayel had asked you to come with him to one of the small islands off the coast to collect some protocores for his art. At first, you refused, because the last time you agreed to “help” him, you almost died of a headahe caused by yours truly.

      But then he begged.

      And begged.

      And kept begging, his voice slipping into that smug-yet-somehow-irresistible drawl, all while he leaned in close, violet hair brushing against your skin, glowing eyes locked onto yours like he knew you were about to cave.

      And you did.

      Like an idiot.

      And now here you are.

      "Rafayel, is the boat supposed to be filling up with water?" You let out a nervous laugh, watching with growing horror as the canoe sloshed and rocked beneath you, an alarming amount of seawater sloshing in.

      Rafayel, lounging at the other end of the boat like he wasn’t about to sink into the abyss, barely spared the situation a glance.

      "Hm?" He flicked his glowing gaze toward the rising water, then shrugged. "No."

      Your heart stopped.

      "What?" you screeched, gripping the sides of the canoe with white-knuckled panic. "Rafayel, we are literally sinking! Do something!"

      Before he could answer with some careless remark, a rough tide surged against the boat.

      And just like that, the ocean yeeted you both overboard.

      One moment, you were panicking about the water in the boat, and the next, there was no boat at all, just open sea and the horrifying realization that you were now in it.

      You hit the water with a spectacular splash, flailing like a terrified cat thrown into a bathtub. Saltwater rushed up your nose, your limbs twisted in every direction, and for a horrifying second, you had no idea which way was up.

      You never thought your life would end like this, kicking, screaming, and flailing like some sort of demented fish out of water. Except, in this case, you were very much in the water, and very much drowning. Meanwhile, your so-called boyfriend, the ever-unbothered Lemurian prince, stood just a few feet away, knee-deep in the surf, watching your impending demise with all the urgency of a man leisurely deciding what to order for dinner.

      "Rafayel!" you shrieked, voice cracking with desperation as you inhaled a mouthful of saltwater. You choked, sputtering, arms thrashing wildly against the relentless pull of the waves. “I’m dying!”

      Rafayel, in all his infuriating, otherworldly grace, simply tilted his head to the side. His lilac hair fluttered in the sea breeze, glowing bioluminescent markings pulsing faintly along his skin like he had all the time in the world. He regarded you with the same curiosity one might reserve for watching a particularly dumb bird fly into a glass window.

      “Huh,” he mused.

      Huh? The fuck he mean ‘huh’?

      You barely had time to process the sheer audacity of this man before another wave crashed over you, momentarily pulling you under. You surfaced with a spluttering gasp, panic sinking its claws into your chest as you flailed harder. Your limbs felt like dead weight, dragging you down with every second.

      "Help me!” you howled, arms slapping at the water in a way that probably made you look more like a malfunctioning wind-up toy than a person fighting for her life.

      A small, amused smile tugged at his lips, the only betrayal of whatever amusement he was clearly getting out of this. But did he move? No. No, he did not. Instead, he just let out a long, drawn-out sigh—as if you were the inconvenience here. As if your very real, very valid fear of imminent death by drowning was nothing more than an overblown inconvenience to his otherwise peaceful day.

      “You’re making this harder than it has to be, Y/N,” he drawled, finally, finally stepping forward with the air of someone being forced to deal with a particularly persistent child. Then, without even a hint of effort, he reached out, grabbed you by the waist, and lifted you clean out of the water.

      Like. A. Toddler.

      Your arms and legs dangled uselessly for a moment, saltwater dripping from your clothes as you gaped at him in pure, seething betrayal.

      "Oh, now you help," you snapped, regaining your senses enough to latch onto him like a drowning cat, your nails digging into his back with intent.

      “I could have died, Rafayel! Drowned! Gone forever! And what were you doing?” You narrowed your eyes, rage bubbling hotter than the embarrassment coursing through you. “Watching? Enjoying my suffering?”

      Rafayel blinked at you, expression unreadable as his glowing gaze met yours. Then, with the audacity of a man who has never once suffered the consequences of his own actions, he simply said—

      “You should’ve just swum.”

      You stared at him, dumbfounded.

      A moment of silence passed.

      Then, deadpan, voice flat as the calm sea beneath him, you spat, "I can’t swim, you fish brained sea-rat."

      His lips quirked slightly, his expression almost, but not quite, apologetic.

      "That's unfortunate," he murmured, the words dripping with so much faux sympathy that you seriously considered just launching yourself back into the ocean to die out of sheer spite.

      Before you could fully unleash the absolute onslaught of rage simmering within you, the kind of rage only born from near-death experiences and insufferably attractive boyfriends, Rafayel did the most unfair thing imaginable.

      He kissed you.

      Your brain short-circuited.

      One moment, you were poised to yell, to fight, to maybe sink your teeth into his stupidly perfect flesh in revenge, and the next? His lips were on yours, warm and infuriatingly soft, pressing against yours with an ease that suggested he’d been planning this from the start.

      Your entire thought process derailed, skidding off the metaphorical road and crashing straight into the ocean floor.

      You were kissing a prince. A literal sea god. Your fingers twitched against his neck, your breath caught somewhere in your throat, your heart hammering so hard it felt like it was trying to swim away on its own. You barely had time to process the weight of the moment before—

      Splash!

      You hit the water.

      Again.

      "RAFA—BLURBGLH—" You barely got half his name out before you were swallowed whole by the ocean, sinking like an actual rock.

      The moment you resurfaced, coughing, sputtering, and gasping for air, your first thought was murder. You were going to kill him.

      You were—

      Wait.

      You furrowed your brows, blinking through the salty sting in your eyes but there was no salty sting. Something was… off.

      Why weren’t you… drowning?

      Your lungs felt fine. No burning, no struggle, no desperate gasps for air. You instinctively sucked in a breath, expecting to choke, to cough, to die.

      But instead—

      Holy hell.

      You could breathe.

      Underwater.

      Before you could even begin to process the absolute insanity of what was happening, before you could come to terms with the fact that you were somehow breathing underwater, something cold and unfamiliar wrapped around your leg.

      Instant, unfiltered terror shot through you like a bolt of lightning.

      You shrieked, not that it did much good underwater, as bubbles exploded from your mouth in a frantic, garbled mess. Your limbs flailed wildly, your body twisting in every direction, every primal instinct screaming at you to fight before some monstrous sea creature dragged you into the abyss, never to be seen again.

      But then, through the chaos of your own panic, you saw him.

      Rafayel.

      Floating effortlessly below you, utterly unbothered, shoulders shaking as if he was holding back the world's most obnoxious laugh. His bioluminescent markings pulsed with a soft glow, casting eerie, shifting light through the water. His long, violet hair drifted around him like a silk curtain, shimmering in the dim ocean light. And there, wrapped around your leg was his stupid hand.

      This fish-brained, sadistic menace had deliberately scared you for fun.

      You narrowed your eyes so hard you were surprised the water pressure didn’t crush your skull.

      Fury ignited in your chest as you kicked at him, your foot landing against his arm. Not hard enough to actually hurt, but definitely hard enough to make it very clear that you were out for blood.

      “I hate you!” you yelled, or at least, you tried to, but since you were underwater, it mostly just came out as a series of distorted bubbles and aggressive body language.

      Rafayel didn’t even have the decency to look guilty.

      Instead, he grinned, sharp teeth flashing as he tugged you closer, effortlessly dragging you through the water like you weighed nothing.

      "You love me," he said, smug and self-assured, as if the fact was as unchangeable as the tides.

      Your glare burned with the force of a thousand dying stars.

      And yet, despite everything, despite the sheer audacity of this infuriating sea prince, despite the fact that he had literally let you think you were drowning, despite the overwhelming urge to slap him with a wet fish, you couldn’t deny it.

      You did love him.

      Even if he was, without a doubt, the most insufferable, smug, irritatingly beautiful menace to ever exist.

      "Did you seriously think I’d let you die?" Rafayel's voice was calm, but there was something else beneath it. Something ancient, certain. "I've been waiting over a century for you to return to me."

      You barely processed his words as you clung to him, hands fisting into the smooth, iridescent skin of his back. Your whole body was trembling, but whether it was from the cold, the fear, or the sheer insanity of this entire situation, you didn’t know.

      "What?" Your voice trembled. He always said weird, cryptic things like that, but he never explained them. Normally, you would’ve pressed him for answers, but right now, you had bigger concerns. Like, for example, the very real possibility of being crushed by the pressure of the deep sea.

      It was dark down here.

      Rafayel had told you before that life in the deepest depths of the sea had no light. Experiencing it was horrifying.

      You couldn’t see anything.

      The darkness was suffocating, pressing in on all sides like a living thing. You had no sense of direction, no way of knowing what lurked just beyond your reach.

      "How am I able to breathe underwater?" You finally managed to ask.

      Rafayel chuckled, the sound low and amused. "Shouldn’t you know the answer to that, Cutie? You bought that book on understanding Lemurians."

      Your mind raced. That stupid textbook. The one written by a human who had clearly never met an actual Lemurian in their life. Half of the book had been filled with biases and misinformation.

      You shook your head, frustrated. "That book was useless."

      Rafayel came to a stop in front of you. His glowing eyes studied you for a moment before he smiled.

      "Kissing a Lemurian allows you to breathe underwater for a bit," he admitted.

      You stared at him. "Oh."

      That was all you could say. Oh.

      Because what else was there to say? Rafayel had literally shoved you into the ocean with zero context and expected you to just figure it out. You had been drowning and his solution had been to just make out with you instead of, oh, you know, telling you beforehand.

      You opened your mouth, fully prepared to chew him out, but then another shiver wracked your body. "I’m cold. I can’t see."

      Rafayel hummed, and before you could react, he wrapped himself around your waist and pulled you close. You barely had time to gasp before warmth began to seep into your skin. His body heat flared, an obvious sign that he was using his Evol, and within seconds, the chill was melting away.

      Then, in one smooth motion, he raised his hand.

      A flame flickered to life in his palm, glowing a warm, golden-orange. It burned underwater, as if the ocean itself bent to his will. Now that you could see, it wasn’t so bad. It looked kind of beautiful. The fire danced and crackled in defiance of the deep, illuminating his sharp features and casting flickering shadows against his violet hair.

      He looked otherworldly.

      Dangerous. Beautiful. Entirely not human.

      And yet, somehow, despite everything, despite the fact that you were in the darkest, deepest part of the ocean with a smug, possibly unhinged sea prince, you felt safe.

[eclipixels]

Homesick

Rafayel x Reader

Content: For some reason, you can't help but feel connected to Rafayel's paintings of Lemuria

A/N: I wonder if anyone can figure out which quote from my favorite book series I referenced.

[1,026 words]

      "You seem oddly fascinated by all my paintings of the deep blue," Rafayel remarked, his voice carrying from the kitchen as he prepared two cups of coffee. The early sunlight streamed in through the windows of his studio-turned-home, casting a warm glow over everything. The view of the vast ocean beyond the windows made the space feel even more intimate, like the world outside was folded into the room.

      You stood before his collection of ocean paintings, your gaze lingering on the turbulent seascapes. Rafayel had just finished explaining a place called Lemuria, though your mind felt strangely detached from the details.

      "Yeah, it just… looks so familiar," you mumbled, tracing the dark brushstrokes of one of the stormier pieces. Rafayel’s ears perked up at your words.

      "Really? Tell me more."

      You hesitated, the strange pull in your chest growing stronger. "I don’t know. It's like I feel homesick when I look at it. Not that it's my home, but like it’s a place that’s always been a part of me, even though I’ve never been there. Something about it feels like it's taken a part of me, but I don’t know what that part is." You exhaled slowly, your fingers lingering over the canvas. "It’s like this place isn’t mine, but it holds something of mine forever. And for some reason, I feel so angry about it."

      Rafayel’s voice softened as he took in your words. "That’s interesting."

      “Really? How come.” You ask.

      “Because I was thinking of Lemuria when I painted those,” He confessed.

      "Do you miss it?" you inquired, though the moment the words left your mouth, you immediately realized how obvious the answer would be. Of course, he missed it. It was a silly question, but you couldn’t help it.

      He paused for a moment, lost in thought. He had shared a few fragments of it before, describing the place he once called home and his identity as a Lemurian.

      He nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on something beyond the kitchen, a small, wistful smile forming on his lips. You watched him carefully, wondering what was going through his mind in that quiet moment.

      He approached you with two cups in hand, offering one to you before both of you settled near the large glass window. You gazed out at the sparkling sea, the peaceful view stretching endlessly before you. He leaned back, his palms resting on the floor behind him, eyes fixed on you. His gaze was soft and intense as he took you in, just as you were taking in the painting just a few minutes ago. It stung a little whenever he looked at you. A part of him was in you, lodged in a place so deeply familiar to him, a piece of his heart quietly nestled within you. And you didn’t even know it.

      "It's funny," you began, your voice soft, as if revealing a secret you'd been holding onto for a long time. But something in you felt different now, like this was the right moment to finally say it. You felt safe enough, as though he wouldn't laugh at you or call you crazy.

      "Hm?" Rafayel responded, his attention fully on you.

      You took a deep breath, gathering the words that had been lodged in your chest for so long. "It's like… I feel like I’m losing my mind. Like your face has been carved into my heart, and I don’t remember when or why, but the scar is there, and I can’t make it go away. It won’t heal. I can’t get it to fade." You let out a small, nervous laugh, almost expecting him to think you were being ridiculous too. But instead, you were met with a heavy silence.

      When you turned your head at him, the air in the room shifted. Something had fallen to the ground, and the sound was sharp, unexpected. Delicate white beads scattered across the floor, catching the light. That’s when you saw it. The unmistakable glistening in the corner of his eyes—pearls, slowly calcifying as hot tears began to spill over.

      "What's wrong?" you asked, the question barely above a whisper. Your heart twisted in your chest, unsure how to process the raw emotion that seemed to suddenly flood him.

      His eyes were fixed on you now, he didn’t speak immediately, as though weighing the weight of your confession. The steady hum of the sea outside seemed to fade into the background as everything in the room focused on the space between you.

      He didn’t look away. His eyes softened, and you noticed the way his jaw tightened, a sign of restraint—or maybe he was simply processing the vulnerability that had just unfolded in front of him.

      “I've always felt homesick for the longest time.” Rafayel's voice cracked as he spoke, each word heavy with an unspoken weight. He reached his palm out towards your face, gently caressing it before his fingers fell to your chin. “Since you, I haven’t felt that."

      His eyes lingered, not in pity or concern, but with an almost unbearable intensity, as if he was struggling to find the right words. There was an undercurrent to his silence.

      It was almost as if he was afraid that if he spoke, if he let too much slip, it would all crumble—like a fragile house of cards teetering on the edge of collapse. The way he clenched his jaw, the way his fingers twitched nervously at his sides, it all suggested a tension far deeper than the moment you shared. Something inside him was holding back.

      His gaze softened for just a moment, as if he was considering something. But then, with a quiet sigh, he looked away, his eyes dropping to the scattered pearls at his feet. The shift was subtle, but it was there, like a door closing before you could step through it.

      the edge of something deep like a kelp bed. Grief and heartbreak colored his face, but so did love and hope. It was bittersweet. You wondered if he knew something you didn’t. A truth he was keeping locked away behind those sunset eyes, too painful or too dangerous to reveal.