Sobbing Over Fandom • My Dream Men Are All Fictional • nonCanon fangirl • Music • Fanfiction Lover • Smut Writer • Omniromantic Demisexual • 18+ content mdni
• Smut Writer • Multishipper • Whipped for Fictional Men • Rafayel is LOML. Xavier is my dream man. Sylus is my sexy side piece. Zaddy- opp, Zayne can get it. • Love and Deepspace is life • Zutara is the hill I will die on • Min Yoongi is Lil Meow Meow enthusiast • BTS ARMY • 34 yrs old • Sobbing Over Fandom • nonCanon fangirl • Music is life • Fanfiction Lover • Omniromantic Demisexual • In the "if canon broke it, imma fix it" category •
Current obsession is Love and Deepspace.
My Works:
A03
My writings here
I post 18+ content on this blog. MDNI.
If I discover that you are a minor or lying about your age, or if I think that you might be, I will block you. I know that my blog is not standing between adult content and underage people. However, it makes me extremely uncomfortable. I err on the side of science that shows that early exposure to certain mature themes at too early of an age can be detrimental, and I'm not going to willingly participate in that. So that doesn't mean that I have anything against you as a person, but it does mean that I hope that you respect my wishes and do not interact on my page.
You, a human, were accidentally assigned dorms typically reserved for non-human students, and while your roommates are great, they keep trying to get you to reveal your monster form. You wonder who its gonna be harder to explain to, them, or the housing office
How to be the perfect human roommate to a merman 101
Pairing: Rafayel (LnDS) × Reader
A/N: this is a spontaneous attempt at the above prompt and has been lying around forgotten. Figured I would share it just because. Please let me know if anyone wants a part 2 or even better, a more fleshed out version of this blorbo. Enjoy.
🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊🐚🌊
You ask yourself for the umpteenth time why you went ahead and applied for the dorms in your university. What were you thinking?!
So what if you had been struggling to commute to and from your house to your university, so what if it took 6 entire hours of commute per day? You should have sucked it up and gone with it.
But instead, you went ahead and applied for a dorm. And that was the start of your problems.
Problem number one: you had accidentally filled the dorm application form that was assigned for non-human students. Since tension between humans and other mythical species were an all-time high despite the changing times, this was a well-intended separation. Not to mention that non-human students *needed* the privacy and safe space to be in their true forms in their dorms.
Problem number two: your application has been accepted, for some reason. You had hoped that it'd be rejected, but unfortunately not so. The housing officer had assumed you felt too stigmatised to put in your species in the application, and had written "human" since you were some kind of half breed. The truth was that you were in fact one hundred percent human.
Problem number three: you weren't able to refuse the dorm that was assigned to you - dorms once assigned would never be re-assigned, since each dorm would have to be rearranged according to the requirements of the species of the students previously applied, and it simply was too much cost. Plus, this was the very last dorm room available, and you really weren't looking forward to six hours of commute per day.
Problem number four: Rafayel Qi. An art major who was a merman. The dorm you shared with him consisted of a huge indoor pool, where he'd chill for hours, his iridescent blue tail swishing around lazily in the pool.
You had no problem with him, not at all, no. Contrary, he was a decent roommate. He usually kept to himself, didn't bother you much, he did leave a lot of mess yeah but he'd also cook extra for you. You figured cleaning up after him - at least in your shared spaces like living room and dining room - was not that bad a price to pay. And honestly, you could have had worse roommates - like Caleb, for example, who turns into a wolf every full moon. No offense to Caleb, he was the best friend, but he sheds every night when he shifts into wolf, and tears the entire room apart when he transforms. Or it could've been Sylus even, who lives in a literal volcanic cave (not really, his dorm is just designed to look like one). His room always ran hotter than an oven, not to mention he gets highly territorial, which was why you guessed he had no roommates. Compared to other supernatural creatures, a merman was not that much trouble. Rafayel even is particular about his shedding scales, since his kind of merfolk, Lemurians, were very particular about who got to own their scales - even the ones they had shed.
So what exactly was the problem? Simple.
After three months of sharing a dorm, Rafayel had warmed up to you enough to lounge into the living room pool while you were around. To show you his true form, trusting you with him.
And he was expecting the same from you, though he never forced you or made you uncomfortable. But every time you two lounged in the living room, hanging around or talking or even being in each other's company in silence, he would sweetly ask for you to reveal your true form, to trust him with your true appearance. Except you were completely, imperfectly human, and had no supernatural form, and you didn't know how to tell him.
My goal is to fill your Flufftober list with Rafayel😋❣️ (😂😂):
Pushing strands of hair out of face 🤭🤭
Hiiii, welcome back to Flufftober ✨🩷
And I love you for that 💋 (there are still a few slots available 🥺👉🏻👈🏻)
Here is your prompt 🩷
Pushing strands of hair out of a face
(~250 words)
Flufftober list 🦄 general masterlist
Rafayel is focused on finishing a painting, the last for a long-planned exhibition. The late afternoon sun filters through the curtains, softening the rays into soothing hues of bright light.
You watch him work in serenity, the sound of brush strokes on canvas hypnotizing in its rhythm, filling the entire space with peace and productivity.
Until it’s broken, a huff of air disturbs the calming static of his work. And then again, another huff, mindlessly puffed into the air.
A little strand of lush purple hair dares to fall in front of his unique eyes, seemingly annoying him. But it's not enough to break the artistic focus your boyfriend has fallen into.
With an amused and tender smile, you walk up to Rafayel. A little glance towards you, a short soft smile on his plush lips but he keeps painting, determined to finish so you both can hang out the rest of the weekend.
You brush the annoying hair out of his beautiful face with a slow soft stroke, trying not to startle him out of his concentration. Your fingertips ever so slightly touch his smooth skin.
“Better now?” you ask him after you make sure, the persistent strand isn’t bothering him anymore.
“Yeah. Thank you, cutie.” Warm hushed words filled with adoration.
You simply nod, and turn your head towards the painting as the Lemurian sets down the coral brush.
“I’m done now.” and your hand is enveloped with warm long fingers. “I deserve a reward now, for being so hardworking, dont’cha think?” as sunset eyes capture you and a light kiss is placed on the back of your hand that is held with silent devotion.
Content: first time, gentle sex, patient soft!domRafayel, penetration, explicit, kisses, light pain, insecurities
Word count: ~1200
Author's Note: the third story for Spicytober and we’re getting explicit now. Finally, some may think 😂 guess I edged you long enough now 🤭 Enjoy 🩷
Spicytober list 🦄 general masterlist
“Don’t worry, cutie,” Rafayel assured you. Gentle and patient, he strokes your arms, his voice a soothing and tender caress for your anxious mind.
“I’ve got you. We’re going at your pace, yeah?” as he slowly pries open your thighs with his knees to slot himself between them, presenting your most sacred parts bare to him.
You gulp nervously, trembling even a bit as he slips out of his underwear. He is not only big. Rafayel is huge down there. Intimidating so. Not that you ever had seen another man’s dick to really make a comparison. Are they all so big? How does this abomination fit in you?
“Look at my face,” Your Boyfriend demands in a firm but still somehow gentle voice. And with a hesitation that has its roots in your fear, you do. The fire and love consume all of his gaze in the unique eyes, blue like a lively storm at sea and red like the setting sun.
“Heeey…” he whispers, Rafayel’s voice bubbling over with adoration. His slender artist fingers caressing the side of your face, memorizing every curve, worshiping the softness under his fingertips. A harsh contradiction to the tips calloused from years of using them to create various art.
You gulp again, trying to erase the dryness in your mouth. “It’s … Huge,” you stutter out, words nearly swallowed by the fear that threatens to take over your shuddering body.
Rafayel can’t suppress a little smug snicker, carried with male pride, and the red hue in his face deepens. “Well, thank you.” Then calmer, affirming, “There’s no need to be afraid. You were made for me, my beloved sweet Darling. And I’ll make you feel good.” Followed by a loving peck on your swollen lips from all that feverish kissing. “Promise.”
You both had been making out for a while now till you felt ready for the next step. And suddenly you weren’t sure if this was worth it.
“Hey…” comes his hushed call again. Your Lemurian leans his forehead against yours. “Close your eyes. Relaaaax.” and with that, you are eased back, gently forced to lie on your rear and let yourself sink into the softness of his bed. Sheets rustling, and you are blanketed by his warmth and the feel of smooth skin on your heated body.
Rafayel kisses you again, tenderly first. Plush lips dancing along yours to worship, to memorize. But soon it turns hungry and filled with his desire for you, ready to devour you. You return them with favor, the burning ache in your belly back with full force, stronger than before. You feel your abdomen spasm and your thighs closing around the painter’s waist on their own accord.
A little whimper escapes your lover, and his tongue slips between your lips, daring you to an even more passionate dance. Falling in the heat of this, you lose yourself, and you forget about what you wanted to do in the first place. The greed, the blazing flames of wanton raging through you as Rafayel prods carefully at your moistened entrance with the tip of his cock. An unfamiliar feeling, hot and thick but not bad. You tense regardless, suddenly anxious again. Remembering how big he is makes you shut close.
“Shhh,” the Lemurian coos, trying to calm you down. And some of his skilled fingers are between your folds, circling, stroking, and flipping that little sensitive bean so that you welcome him again.
“Aaah,” A helpless moan, causing you to open up. And just like that, his round tip slips in, stretching you deliciously at your entrance. A groan from him is all you hear beside the rushing of blood and your heavy, bumping heart.
You cradle him closer to you, overwhelmed by the need for skin on skin. Anxiety and passion are fighting inside you, and your head gets dizzy.
“You’re … Doing… Great,” he grunts out between heavy pants. Seems like it feels as good as it does to you. It fills you with glee that Rafayel struggles with his own pleasure. Getting a little confidence again, you nibble gently at his earlobe, being hungry for your fishie.
A high-pitched whimper is your reward before he bites your neck tenderly, soothed by restrained passion. “Careful.” A hot breath on your ear. “You’re not aware what you’ll awaken, Cutie.” open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. The left behind wetness creates a cool contrast on your burning skin.
And you giggle, basking in your newfound power over him. It’s giving his length more space to slip in unnoticed, gliding in a few inches until the Lemurian needs to stop by some sort of obstacle. The sudden pain makes you whimper, and you try to stop him from going further.
“Rafayel-” you cry out, clinging to his shoulders like your life depends on it.
Gentle strokes on the back of your hair. “I know, I know.” The artist stills, letting you accommodate to his intrusion and relax again. Rafayel is not fully sheathed yet, and you already feel so full, stretched like his or your fingers could never do. And you just know he’s not even halfway in. It’s visible as you glance down. His pelvis is still so far away from you, his hardness glistening with your arousal in the dim light of the bedroom.
Little kisses at your temple, your cheeks, trailing along your jaw line. “I’m here. I got you, Cutie.” And he’s capturing your lips again, distracting you from the pressure inside your most sacred part. Filling you with butterflies and warmth instead. Loving nothing’s are whispered into your hair, reverent pecks on your face until you giggle helplessly under his devoted attack.
Open-mouthed kisses on your throat and greedy lips find yours in the end.
Whatever held him back is gone, and he works himself in. Bit by bit, Rafayel digs his way gently into your walls until you’re breathless, and he bottoms out before you even realize it.
And then there’s only heat, a burning inferno of desire. And greed. An aching need for more. For something to devour, to consume.
Heavy pants fill the room, and you wiggle helplessly, unaware of how to satiate that blazing want in your core.
Rafayel moans in your ear, shamelessly and full of the same hunger. “Hah… You feel so good.”
Then he turns you to face him, his ocean eyes dark. Rounded and wide, the black pupils are blown out. Filled with something beyond love. “Told you, you’re made for me, yeah?” and he kisses you again. Starving, thirsty like a man searching for an oasis in the desert. Greedy like a god for eternal devotion. And you grant it to him. Eagerly and determined to give everything he demands of you and to take all your god has to offer.
Until he moved.
Slowly, deliberately. Gliding out and sinking in. Stroking your fluttering walls with the velvety steel of his impressive length.
And all coherent thoughts are fleeing you. Leaving you burning in the fires of passion and desire. An all-consuming inferno of need. You lose yourself only to be caught by Rafayel. And united with more than just bodies in heat, with your hearts and souls.
You’re claimed in the most primal way and loved with the endless determination of a God. From now on, you’re ruined for any other man. Only aching for your Sea God, the way he guides you into the Depths of Desire.
Content: male stripping, teasing, suggestive, kissing, established relationship
Word Count: ~2000
Author's Note: The first story for Spicytober! We’re starting with something slow and sensual, not explicit yet. So get yourself warmed up with a Fishie that shows you a special dance 🤭
Masterlist 🦄 Spicytober list
There he stands in the bedroom, your Lemurian, in all his ethereal beauty and divine glory. Rafayel gestures to sit on a wooden chair he pulled over from the vanity table he had set up after you finally moved in months ago.
“Since I lost this bet, be my guest and enjoy the show.” His sunset eyes were filled with a mischievous glint that tells you, your fishie is up to no good.
You do as you’re told, regardless, and move over to sit on that little chair with the elegant, curving backrest as he stands behind it, holding it tight, like the gentleman he is.
“Since you won fair and square, I will dance. But we’re making this my way. No touching until I allow you so, …Miss Bodyguard.” His breath is hot on your neck as he whispers the last words into your ear from behind, igniting the flames of something only the God of the Sea can.
You suppress the urge to squirm in the seat, heart racing in anticipation of what is to come, and your palms get sweaty as you lay them patiently in your lap.
Rafayel strolls over to the little audio station at the wall on the side, like he has all the time in the world. You’re on the edge of the elegant chair, literally and figuratively. You really didn’t think that you would win the ridiculous bet, and more so, that the fickle artist would fulfill his debt to dance for you. No ordinary dance, oh no. You dared him to strip, and gods, are you excited for it.
And then, as he taps a few times on the device, a slow, sensual tune begins to play, filling the air with promises and unnamed desires, instantly transforming the room's ambiance to a sultry one. A few more pushes on a little white remote, and the light dims to a soft red, veiling everything in sins and passion.
Oh, what have you gotten yourself into, is the last coherent thought in your brain as Rafayel puts the little remote aside and strolls toward you again. Still two or three steps away, he closes his beautiful two-toned eyes, letting himself be engulfed by the enchanting tunes that waft through the air.
And then he starts to move. Bare feet tap to the slow rhythm, hips rolling from side to side, arms sliding up and down with grace. The red lighting sets his figure into a sinful crimson dream. Your mouth dries out, and you gulp, completely entranced from the very first second. You knew the Lemurian would be a natural at this, but as always, you underestimated how Rafayel excels at everything that comes with his siren-like persona.
As the artist's back arches in that sinful way you only ever see in TV shows, your eyes are glued to him. To the way the fabric of his simple white dress shirt clings to his toned chest muscles, how the black trousers hug his perfect butt, like a lover, his significant other. How the rays of the ceiling spots jig over his broad shoulders, adding an ethereal touch.
Rafayel dances a full, scandalous, drawn-out swirl in front of you, hips swaying and feet gliding as he starts unbuttoning his collar.
With torturing slow fingers, the fabric opens up, one annoying button at a time, with the pledge of refined muscles and smooth skin. All while his eyes, these damn ocean eyes, are filled with fiery desire and bluish reverence. They don’t leave you for even a single second, capturing you with the promise of forbidden sins and trapping you to the seat with chains that threaten to burn you on the spot.
Then his pale skin finally peeks through the fabric, immediately caught in that sinful red light, and you nearly start drooling. Rafayel simply grins, a confident smile that betrays how completely aware he is of what he’s doing to you.
“Like what you see, cutie?” Your boyfriend dares to ask, in that scandalous, sexy voice that drives you insane, tinted with mockery. But your mouth is still dry, your tongue glued to the roof. So you simply nod, more eager than you want to admit. The painter chuckles, confident and amused that you are so easily enchanted.
The rolling of his body continues, the now-opened dress shirt slips over the round of his shoulder with scandalous moves you didn’t know he could do. A last flick of his arm, and the white fabric rests at his slender waist, swaying in some fluid motions that are almost slutty and drenched in that hue that only adds to the hot sight. Almost, if it were someone else than your Lemurian. But on Rafayel, these moves are divine. Devilish. Forbidden even.
And then the bright fabric glides along the artistic hands to the wooden floor, carelessly kicked away by bare feet.
Slow, deliberate steps in tune with the soul-filling rhythm of that unknown song close the distance, and you tremble. Shaking from the tension in the air caused by the music and the lighting that casts shadows of sin and rays of desire over the Lemurian. He’s now so near, his slender hips and defined abs fill your entire vision. Your heavy breathing overrules the sensual tunes, and the frantic beats of your heart make you dizzy.
You want to touch him so badly, and your hands are moving on their own accord to the waistline of his slacks. But you can stop them before it’s too late, remembering the rule he told you, and they hesitantly sink back into your lap, entangled with each other.
You’re rewarded by Rafayel with a satisfied smile, and he leans down to you. Two fingers curl around your chin, lifting it to meet his burning gaze. “Aren’t you a good girl?” The handsome face is so close now, his lips only inches apart, and a stream of warm air hits your heated cheeks. Breath hitches, the excitement rushes through you like a drug. “Remembering the rules shouldn’t go unrewarded, dontcha think?” whispers his voice, filled with the depths of a predatory hunger and the mocking of a divine being.
“Yes.” You croak, not a single drop of spit is left, leaving your throat tight and dry.
And then his plush lips are on yours, soft, cool, and slowly melting into you. Rafayel kisses with relish, enjoying the little whimpers that he draws from you and taking his time to drive you further into madness, into the ache that now burns your whole body.
His tongue is prodding for entry, and you welcome it, dancing with him another way to the music that is nearly forgotten. All that matters is his delicious mouth on yours and the familiar taste that conquers your every sense.
As Rafayel draws back, it’s too soon, too fast, and your hunger for him long not satiated. A protesting moan escapes you, and he only laughs—A little too satisfied chuckle that makes his eyes gleam with male pride and the heat rising on your face.
But he’s also not unaffected by all this, as you recognize his flushed features and the way his breathing has gotten heavier. Ragged in- and exhales, heaving his bare chest and abdomen in high waves. His eyes dilated, dark pupils swallowing the red and blue you love so much.
The Lemurian eases back, straightens himself into his full height. “But we’re not done yet, my sweet darling.” sugary hushed words as he slowly starts circling you, slender fingers gliding over your shoulders that are free from clothing since you decided to wear a slip dress and are far too tense to sit relaxed on a chair. Nimble limbs caressing the back of your neck and the front. Loving the column of your throat while making those dangerous, scandalous rolls of his waist, giving life to the enchanting music, and brushing you, oh so slightly.
Completing the round, his hand glides down your chest. Featherlight touches sweeping over the thin fabric of your dress, leaving your skin tingling and heated, before finally clasping your cold fingers, guiding them to the shiny buckle of his leather belt to release them there.
“Mind helping me here?” he asks with a hoarse voice and ocean eyes, innocently batting at you as his arms return to his side. But the nearly unrecognizable smirk in advance has betrayed him.
So you take a little revenge and let your fingertips trace the smooth skin above the waistline, teasing him with butterfly touches. The reward is a full-body shudder and a swift, firm grip on your wrist.
“Naughty girl,” he softly chides you, eyes no longer innocent, now burning with suppressed primal hunger.
But instead of hearing your silent plea, he takes a swirl back and dances away from you, leaving the distance of a few steps, engulfed in that red lighting.
You whine desperately, “Rafayel!”
The Lemurian only tuts. Shushing you effectively by driving you insane again with the sinful moves of his hips and the flexing of his back muscles and arms, moving with a born grace only he has. Rays of crimson highlight the delicious bumps and motions of his perfect figure.
Slowly, oh so slowly, the belt is wandering through every single loop before it finally ends on top of the white shirt, accompanied by the sight of Rafayels swinging and swaying rear.
A fast whirl around and you see your lover's magnificent chest again, bathed in the shadows and rays of the red light, leaving you helpless and aching for him.
You swiftly get up and try to grab him, but he’s faster. “Nuh-uh. Not like this!” and then a mocking singsong in his voice “Remember? No touching, Cutie~.” as you fall back, defeated and desperate for him. He grins, that wicked smile you know so well. He has you right where he wants you to be, and he knows it. And the artist is basking in this knowledge, relishing in your frenzied attempt to touch him. Enjoying the painful need for him.
And then the button of his trousers opens, the zipper rustles, and abruptly the time seems to slow down. With measured moves, the black pants are gradually pulled to the floor, bunching along his tensed thighs and calves. As he steps out, only the tight boxers remain, covering the hardened length that can no longer be hidden. A remarkable bulge, evidence of how much Rafayel enjoys this. Being admired and yearned for, feeling every ounce of devotion for him. Your God. Your Lemurian. Your lover.
Then he dances again, while kicking the no longer needed black clothes into an unseen corner of the dimly lit room. Swirling, enchanting, he sways to the music and shows off everything you’re not allowed to enjoy, except with your raking eyes.
The delicious, rounded butt you ache to sink your teeth into, the slim thighs that are tense from carrying him around in that siren lure. And the formed calves that support him with so little effort.
He is perfection. Divinity. A god that descended to earth to drive you crazy.
You nearly lose it. Heart beating frantically in your chest, hands sweaty, and your core aching with need so painful, it makes you weak. You’re seconds away from just standing up and pulling him to the bed.
Then the music suddenly stops.
And so does Rafayel. Glazed over eyes, filled with desire, now hunting you down, his upper body moves with heavy pants. A sheen layer of sweat glistening in the red hues that veil him in sin.
“Does this suffice?My debt is paid, yeah?” Rafayel breathes out, voice deep, filled with passion and desire.
“Yes,” and a nod, you’re not able to form more than this one word as you stumble towards him. Weak in the knees but wanting to be close to him, to touch him so badly that you don’t care if you might fall. The only thing on your mind is to get to your Lemurian.
Two unnerving steps and you’re captured by his strong arms and instantly pulled into a searing kiss.
Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for ‘Love and Deepspace’. I only own the rights to the plot idea.
wiping off a food stain near lips - bonus: lick it off fingers
Oho 👀 that’s a nice one from the Event list
Well, it was indeed hard NOT to do it anything but fluff haha 😂 (it got a teensy weensy suggestive nonetheless 🤭)
Here’s your prompt 🩷
Wiping off food stains near the lips and licking it off the fingers
(~200 words)
Flufftober list 🦄 general masterlist
“Say ‘Aah’,” you gently order your boyfriend to open his mouth so you can feed him the new dish you tried out today. You are eager to know if he likes it, since he let you roam in his kitchen freely for this little experiment.
With an amused twinkle in his ocean eyes, Rafayel obeys, and the fork vanishes in his mouth, digs itself between the plush of his pink lips.
With brimming glee the Lemurian closes his unique eyes, seemingly enjoying the taste. “Mmmh, that’s perfect, Cutie.” and a tender smile lightens up his handsome face.
He swallows, and you see a drip of sauce that clings to the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, you cradle his chin to wipe it with a caress of your thumb. The dark liquid stains the pad of it as the Lemurian gently catches your wrist with ease.
His sunset eyes set on the stained thumb and move it closer to his mouth. A mere inch before his lips his gaze darkens, locking back with yours “We don’t want any single drop to waste, right?” as his tongue slips out, and your fingers are licked clean as his hungry gaze never leaves you.
Hey there, I wanted to share some heartbreaking news about our stepdad, Terry. He's been diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer and has very little time left, so we're raising funds to help cover his medical bills and funeral costs, allowing him and our mom, Penny, to focus on each other during this difficult time. If you can, please click the link below to donate or share it with others who might want to help. Thank you so much! https://gofund.me/0131fbcd
We are heartbroken to share that our stepfather, Terry Jordison, has been diagnosed wi… Terra Lu needs your support for Support Terry Jordis
Hey there, I wanted to share some heartbreaking news about our stepdad, Terry. He's been diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer and has very little time left, so we're raising funds to help cover his medical bills and funeral costs, allowing him and our mom, Penny, to focus on each other during this difficult time. If you can, please click the link below to donate or share it with others who might want to help. Thank you so much! https://gofund.me/b2d977c3
Hey there, I wanted to share some heartbreaking news about our stepdad, Terry. He's been diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer and has very little time left, so we're raising funds to help cover his medical bills and funeral costs, allowing him and our mom, Penny, to focus on each other during this difficult time. If you can, please click the link below to donate or share it with others who might want to help. Thank you so much! https://gofund.me/0131fbcd
We are heartbroken to share that our stepfather, Terry Jordison, has been diagnosed wi… Terra Lu needs your support for Support Terry Jordis
they’re all on my website if you you wanna match with meeeee ♡
RAFAYEL
The Lemurian skeleton on the back is the weight Rafayel carries for Lemuria and fire lilies blaze with the fierce, unyielding passion that fuels his soul.
Rafayel may sometimes appear vulnerable or in need of protection, and may even be accompanied by a bodyguard. But he is more than capable of defending himself, and more importantly, Lemuria. His true strength lies in his dedication to restoring Lemuria’s lost honor. When he first came face to face with the Lemurian skeleton, it awakened a profound resolve inside him. He did what he had to do.
ZAYNE
Foreseer Zayne’s frozen heart beginning to bloom, all because of fate Jasmine blooms where cold once reigned, piercing through or blossoming from the very heart they seek to warm.
XAVIER
Xavier's being a forget-me-not, while Lumiere hides behind a mask.
Forget-me-nots represent enduring memory and unwavering love, which is the entirety of what Xavier, as Lumiere, yearns for. These flowers delicately bloom across his mask, intertwining with the crescent moon motif he carries. His fear and vulnerability keep him from fully unveiling who he truly is beneath the mask.
SYLUS
When a dragon senses death, it flies alone to a distant valley. In its final moments, flowers bloom from its body. The dragon dies only after the flowers cover every bone.
The back has a dragon skeleton descending. The front has datura flowers blooming from the heart.
cw: major spoilers for Submerged Eclipse myth, character death, fem!reader, reverse isekai situation, non-mc!reader, minors dni, self-harm, references to The Shape of Water.
Synopsis: Rafayel searches high and low in unknown waters, desperately searching for his bride.
author notes: hello~! I hope everyone is doing well and thank you for being patient with me and @dissociativewriter on the development of this chapter. I had intended on posting it before leaving town for a last-minute summer vacation with the family, but I decided to take a step from it and work another LADS project. Funny thing is, I actually spent more time on this while I was on the beach with my laptop than what I said I'd focus on writing. But worry not, the Zayne with Nurse! Reader scenario is still in progress, hopefully the initial draft will be finished in a week or two depending on my work schedule. Credit goes to the rightful owner of the artwork above that I found on Pinterest.
Special thanks to @jinwoosbabyboo for proofreading~!
divider by @saradika-graphics
Series Masterlist
Rafayel glided through the current, his eyes darting from left to right as he observed his surroundings. As much as he wished to transform into a human and search his bride on the surface, he couldn’t afford to waste all of his magic all at once. This world, this wildlife here, differed completely from the ocean of Lemuria, of Linkon, or anywhere he had ever seen in his 800 years of existence. In order to best understand this place, he thought, it would be better to talk to the locals.
Of course, by the locals he meant the animals because no one is more honest to a Lemurian than a creature who knows these tides well. They hear everything that occurs on the land, and relay to the others. Perhaps if he described the appearance of his bride, they might know where she is.
The dolphins had just arrived from the other side of the world, traveling to warmer waters until it was time to return home. The coral reef sees humans, but in groups of three and under close supervision of a tour guide. They hadn’t seen someone like him in centuries, nor did they know much about a bride of the sea, as such a tradition died out eons ago, yet they could not recall who was the god that began it all. If he wants to learn more about the other humans—the ones who care for injured sea creatures and return them to the ocean—he should look for sharks or turtles with orange tags in the southeast.
Rafayel thanked the coral reef and resumed his search. Following their instructions, he swam and swam until he crossed paths with a hammerhead shark, its dorsal fin pinned with an orange tag: A36RH.
“Not my name, of course.” The shark chortled as she blinked at him, her gravely voice carrying on the waves. “But how can I help you, a visitor from unknown waters? I hear you wish to know about the Kind Ones.”
“You know why I’m here?”
“The seaweed loves to gossip, and gossip travels fast when there is news of a stranger asking about humans.” The shark said. “There are two kinds of them here: the ones who hunt us for sport, and the Kind Ones. In their kingdom, the Research Facility, the Kind Ones protect us and heal our injuries. The Vet is the one who looks after us the most in the Research Facility, a skilled healer. The Caretaker is her second-in-command, her advisor. A good one, the Caretaker. The Caretaker cleans our temporary homes, feeds us, speaks to us daily, and wishes us goodnight when they leave. The Caretaker does not see us off when we return to the ocean, but no one can ever forget such hospitality.”
“Yet if that is true, why do the Kind Ones make those they have saved wear these tags on your fin?” Rafayel asked, gesturing to her fin with a frown. “It is not a fitting accessory for a shark as grand and elegant as yourself.”
The shark guffawed. “You might see it as an undesirable jewelry piece, stranger, but this mark is a sign of protection from the Kind Ones.” She flicked her scarred tail. “The hunters flee when they see this mark, fearing the Kind One’s hostility if they dare to hurt us for their own personal gain.”
“So, if I am to find my bride, then she is most likely at this place? The Research Facility?”
“She could be there, or in its sister kingdom, the Aquarium. It is home to others like ourselves, but only for those who cannot return to the ocean. The Vet hails from there and travels far to use her sorcery in the Research Facility.”
Rafayel nodded slowly. “I see. Then, how do I find these kingdoms?”
The shark blinked. “The Kind Ones travel through these waters on a boat to collect water inside glass vials or to find one of us and see if we are healthy. How they know where we are is a mystery, but perhaps if they see you injured, they will take you back to the Research Facility. Perhaps there, you may ask your questions about your bride.” She inclined her head towards him. “After all, that mark on your chest should act as your guide, should it not?”
Rafayel frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion before he followed the shark’s line of sight; the Lemurian bond mark that symbolizes his promise to obey his bride’s every command, which had vanished after her death, had returned. It was pulsing, and glowing a brilliant shade of vermilion. His breath caught in his throat. “Impossible.” He whispered. “I thought - when she -”
“Perhaps the tides wish to help you.” The shark said with another twitch of her tail. “There is a cove that the Kind Ones visit on their voyage, and a favorite haven for those who wish to rest after a long journey. The water is shallow, and the Sisters protect the cove from those who wish to hurt us.”
“Sisters?”
“The sea witches once protected these waters long ago, and the cove immortalized them for their duty and sacrifice. You know them when you see them, though the humans call them mimetoliths. A strange name to give them, but humans are strange creatures.”
Rafayel nodded in agreement, thanking the shark for her help before he set off into the changing tides. These waters differed from Romirro; there were no pirates, no humans screaming for salvation, and the creatures who dwelled here were very hospitable, directing him toward the cove with wide, curious eyes.
The Lemurian continued on his journey, never stopping to rest until he saw shiny smooth rocks glowing on the ocean floor. He resurfaced, poking his head out just enough for him to see where he was. At the mouth of the cove were two sandstone rocks, jutting out from the ocean and twisted to resemble human faces stacked on top of each other. These were probably the Sea Witches, the ones who guarded the ocean long before the Kind Ones appeared.
Rafayel inclined his head towards them, muttering under his breath. “May you continue to watch over the children of these waters and grant permission for this humble visitor to rest here until I find my bride.”
It was beneath a Lemurian, especially one that had ascended to a sea god of ancient legends, to prostrate himself before a lesser deity. But if he is truly a stranger in this world as the shark and the other inhabitants keep referring to him as, then swallowing his pride might be the sacrifice he might have to pay in order to be reunited with his beloved bride.
A moment of silence passed before he waded past the Sea Witches and settled onto the smooth rocks, closing his eyes as a weary sigh left him. He hadn’t expected the search for his dearest one to be easy, but it shouldn’t have been too difficult either. He could sing a Lemurian melody and hope that she would follow the music and find him waiting for her, but the chances of accidentally bewitching a human were just as high. He still wasn’t at full strength yet after crossing through the portal, and he would rather not gamble the rest of his magical reservoirs on a hunch; so he did what was best at the moment, which was to recuperate. Allow his body to adjust to these waters, sleep, maybe even nibble on some krill if he became hungry.
The Kind Ones would not prowl the waters when the skies darkened; it was too dangerous with the octopuses and eels roaming around the coral reefs, nor did they possess the ability to see well at night or even under the light of the full moon. But if they rescued injured creatures, and nobody or anything injured the Sea God himself, then the sun-loving humans wouldn’t take him to the Research Facility or the Aquarium.
He glanced back at the mouth of the cove, grimacing slightly as a plan formed in his mind. It was…unpleasant, but it might be the only chance he would have to encounter the Kind Ones. Rafayel groaned, dipping back down into the water to retrieve a rotting piece of wood covered in barnacles that was the size of a dagger. There were other pieces, no doubt from a shipwreck that happened in the cove centuries ago, though the smaller ones would barely scratch his scales.
Once he had gained the tool needed to carry out his plan, he returned to his resting spot and waited for the sun to rise. That night he dreamt of reuniting with his bride, feeling her warm body pressed against his own as he peppered affectionate kisses against her neck and promising to never allow fate to separate them again.
A humming sound brought the Sea God out of his slumber, alerting the bleary-eyed Lemurian. He rose from his makeshift bed of seaweed and rocks, catching a glimpse of a sleek vessel bobbing up and down on the waves before diving back down into the shallows. The Kind Ones. They had come, and they would in the cove soon.
Rafayel stared at the splintered wood resting in the palm of his palm for a moment before his webbed fingers curled around. Then, with only the determination - and desperation - to be reunited with his beloved, he raised it over his head and pierced his tail, pushing it through the iridescent scales until blood bloomed and bubbled towards the surface, yet granted him enough strength to wade towards the sand, and pretend to be stranded and in desperate need of help.
He just hoped they would notice him, or he really might die.
