can we actually acknowledge the fact that dru will be kidnapped by ash in tlkof?!!! bro said i want her so iâll just steal her away yeah good plan good plan đââïž
Rafayelâs bitterness suddenly makes so much sense â and even though the myth isnât released yet I feel like the trailer gave more than enough to allude to several things.
I suppose bitter might be a harsh term to describe things, but Rafayel harbors this level of brattiness. An over dramatic flare that leads many in this fandom to portray him as childish and/or flamboyant.
This idea that heâs dramatic and giving MC a hard time just because⊠thatâs what âbitternessâ Iâm referring too.
Not only did MC sacrifice herself in order to make sure the sea god does not meet his fated doom â she used his own weapon and forced his hand to grasp it as she drove it into her chest and effectively severed their bond.
There is such a range of emotion on Rafayelâs face in that time span â disbelief, anger, heartbreak. That quick defiance as he lunges for her, cradling her as he proclaims he wonât let things end like this. And yet sheâs dying fast, too fast for him to even attempt anything.
The horrified heartbreak that flashes in his eyes when he realizes there is nothing he can do as her eyes close for the last time and her body goes limp. The god of the sea was unable to save his beloved and defy his fate.
Clinging to her body as the tale writes itself exactly as promised, she becomes one with the sea and vanishes from his embrace. Now, his beloved is truly gone.
Rafayel sits there in shock, tears sliding down his cheeks and dropping into the water below him. Not only did it happen, but it happened so quickly that his mind is reeling to catch up. One minute you were alive, you were warm and breathing and real before his eyes.
Sixty seconds later you are gone, a mirage in the ocean water, as if you never existed in the first place. Then, after all that, you wait 800 years to return to him.
If I were Rafayel, Iâd be pretty bitter too.
I didnât plan on pulling for this myth, especially since a multi banner is following⊠but the trailer has me so captivated that I canât stop thinking about it. As a Sylus main I must stay strong because I canât let my 100% streak die⊠but Raffieâ
genre/tags: god of the tides rafayel, historical au, pirate au, BIG enemies to lovers energy, slowest of slow burns, action & adventure, jaded raf x jaded mc
synopsis: life at sea was supposed to be liberating. free from the shackles of monarchy and the rules of society. little did you know, a certain siren would find his way onto your ship and convince you otherwiseâwhere two unlikely allies join in a fight to dismantle the crown.
authorâs note: cross-posting this from my ao3!
Without turning back, I trek up the cobblestone inclines that lead to the Selusian Estate. The terraces carved into the side of the cliffs make for decent scaling, and with no guards present, it was possible to get in past the gates unscathed. I would likely have to enter through the back gardensâthe very same where Rafayel and I shared a number of dances. Shaking the thought from my mind, I hike to the edges of the cliffs and begin to climb the terraces. Theyâre slippery to the touch, slick with moss and sea salt. Curses slip past my lips with every step, my forehead slick with sweat by the time Iâd made it to the back of the gardens.
Unsheathing my dagger from its hilt, I pause before climbing over the garden walls to listen. Itâs silent, almost too silent. Luckily, it seems clear as I push through the wrought iron gates and head for the back doors of the estate. The door utters a familiar creak, the light dim and dusted in the drawing room from likely weeks of vacancy. Everything seems nearly exactly as Iâd left itâan old teacup on the table, my cloak hung on its hook by the foyer, Rafayelâs spare loafers by the sofa.
In a strange way, it felt as though I were returning home.
The sun threatens to set as I scour the manor, looking for any connections to the castle through the estateâa hidden tunnel, a passageway, a basement. I came up short, unable to find anything other than the belongings weâd left behind. Defeat settles in my bones as I slump onto one of the armchairs, dropping my head in my hands as I rack my brain for another means to enter the palace. If I were unable to sneak in from beneath, Iâd have to find a way to get through the front gates without raising suspicion.
Glancing at the tall mirror sat at the corner of the drawing room, the pearl and gold adornments of my Lemurian garb spark a new idea in my mind as I reach for my satchel.
* * *
The crowd lined up to enter the palace is thick, nobles dressed to the nines for their opportunity to engage in the pre-wedding festivities. They smell of too-strong perfume, the scent suffocating me as I wade through them towards the palace gates. Music echoes through the halls and into the gardens, the orchestra in full swing to welcome its guests.
I grip the hem of my cloak with painted fingernails, a sapphire blue shade after I scrubbed them clean in the estateâs sink. Thankfully, it was one of the pieces Iâd received during my time as Rafayelâs right-hand, blending in seamlessly with the coats and fur-trimmed gowns that surrounded me. None of them seem to pay me any mind as they titter amongst themselves, clamoring for a glance at Princess Ariaâs gown and a chance to meet her betrothed.
Iâm almost through the gates in the swarm of nobles arriving when a guard grabs me by the hem, pulling me aside from the crowd and towards the towering marble pillar that connects to the palace walls. My heart begins to slam against my ribcage, though I remain as calm as I possibly can when the guard confronts me.
âYou do not look familiar,â he barks, reaching for my chin from beneath my cloakâs hood when I jolt away.
âMy sweet,â I purr, feigning an accent from another of the neighboring Isles of Selusia as I bat my eyelashes up at him. A thin georgette veil hovers over the lower half of my face, one like the dancers that were arriving for the eveningâs performance. Iâd been able to snatch one from their caravan before theyâd entered. It fit quite well with the Lemurian threads, if I did say so myself. âIs this any way to treat your entertainment for the evening?â
âThat depends,â he huffs, brushing his fingers against the stubble on his chin. He leans in, his breath thick with the scent of tobacco and whisky. âWill there be opportunities for private entertainment?â
As much as I wanted to slice through his throat with the dagger on my thigh, I settled with a deep breath and a phony laugh at his forwardness. âCome find me after my performance, my love.â
Trailing off and leaving him to his greedy stupor, I give him a small wave and duck into the crowd entering the palace. Every inch of the palace feels familiar, from the marble floors to the towering gilded doors. The halls wind and wean until I find the central ballroom, chandeliers lit and dancing against the stained glass ceilings. Finding a dim corner, I lean against the wall and keep the cloak over my head so that I could observe more quietly.
Without a doubt, standing in the very same ballroom where I watched Rafayel parade around with Aria on his arm left a bitter taste in my mouth. The night when I donned an exquisite gown and a circlet of jewels, earning my own dance when weâd made it back hoâ
âback to the estate.
My pores stand on edge as I glance around the room to mark each guardâs location and the most accessible exit. Rafayel was nowhere in sight, nor was Aria. Palace staff darted around the floor, trays piled high with goblets of exquisite wines and hors dâoeuvres. None of them come near me, even out of courtesyâa likely sign that my corner was comfortably dark and away from the bustle of the crowd.
Given that the ballroom seemed to be nothing but a breeding ground for drunken, eager men, I slip out of the main doors and into the halls. Following the path that led around the central courtyard, I was able to evade any signs of palace staff or noblesâuntil a deep, resounding voice echoed from the far end of the hall. With a gasp, I duck into one of the nearby alcoves and hold my breath for the guard to pass.
âWhy do we have to keep watch over the filthy siren?â
My ears perk up at that, heart skipping a beat on command at the mention of Rafayel. It sounded as though there was a pair of guards stationed near his quarters, preventing anyone from visiting him or summoning him to the ballroom.
âWould you rather the king have your head?â
âNo, but Iâd rather spend some time with one of the harlots that are lined up to bed the creature.â
I wrinkle my nose at the sound of thatâit was an age-old tradition for noblemen, on the eve of their wedding celebrations, to spend the night with a town harlot. It was considered a commemoration of their last night as a free man.
I considered it disgusting.
âLook no further, gentlemen,â I coo, nearly slapping a hand over my mouth at the outburst. It was clear that my mind had a plan that I had not fully fleshed out. Cursing my loose tongue, I step out into the dim hallway with the cloak still bundled over my garb. The two men stand at attention, reaching to unsheathe their swords when I reach for the hood.
In one swift motion, I lower the cloak and allow the fabric to slide off of my body oh, so slowly. It slumps to the ground and I step over it without a beat, their eyes wide and hungry as they follow the curves of my body. As much as I itched to grab them both by the throats and flip them over the edge of the nearby banister, I refrained. Slow and deliberate, I saunter to them, swaying my hips with exaggeration in every step. I notice the way their breathing becomes labored at the sight and fight to roll my eyes as I approach them.
The veil is still intact as I peer up at them both through my lashes, each the twin of the other in their navy blue royal guard uniforms. They exchange predatory grins, hovering over me with an obvious thirst for the power they thought they held over me in that moment.
âYou here for the prince-to-be to fuck you, love?â
âAre you disappointed youâre not first in line?â I ask, still feigning the accent from earlier in a whisper. I reach for his lapel, pulling him within earshot as I scoff against his skin. âIf you listen closely enough, you might be able to catch an earful of what will happen behind these doors.â
âSheâs just a whore,â the other comments, his grin faltering into a filthy smirk. âWhoâs to say we donât have the chance to bed her before the creaâer, before the lord does.â
I raise an eyebrow subtly, noting that the palace guard seemed to be aware of Rafayelâs true identity as much as the king was. Iâm unable to get a word in as they back me against the nearby pillar, flanking me on either side as they inhale the scent of my skin. One of them reaches for my waist and I flinch, fighting the urge to snap his wrist with a nervous laugh under my breath.
âYouâll have your turn,â I try to urge them, struggling to keep up the façade as adrenaline begins to creep into my veins. I try to step away, the taller of the two grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head. I gasp at the action, wriggling against his grip with wide eyes that meet his hungry ones. The humor in my voice is gone as I snarl up at him, âLet go.â
âOh, were you all talk just now?â he laughs darkly, his free hand snaking against my waist and pulling me into his chest. He glances up at the man beside him. âDamian, how long do you reckon we have until the handmaidens had officially sent her over?â
âThere could be a slight delay,â the other plays along with a haughty laugh, closing in on me and urging me to unsheathe my dagger when a commanding voice echoes from the doors at the end of the hall.
âThatâs enough.â
Rafayelâs voice was like a shock to my system, familiar and foreign all at once. My heart raced at the sound, the ache that had festered in the silence between us proving to me how much Iâd yearned to hear his voice in the past several weeks. Even those simple words, a command in such a dire situation, brought a light to my soul that Iâd fought against for so long. The guards back away from me immediately, giving me a clear view of him.
He seems to be in good shape, though he wears a pair of white leather gloves matching the necktie beneath his lapel that scales his neck and covers his skin. I immediately grow suspicious, wondering what kind of scars he was expected to hide now that he was bound to the kingâs bidding. His eyes meet mine, flickering for the smallest of moments before he furrows his brows at the two men.
âIf you two are palace guards, act like it,â he orders, reaching between them for my hand and pulling me after him into the bedroom. âDo not bother us.â With that, he slams the towering gilded doors shut.
For the first time in my life, Iâm at an utter loss for words. My life was meant to end not long before I stood here, before the man Iâd grown accustomed to spending every waking moment with ever since heâd stumbled onto my ship that one odd night. His lilac hair had grown out, sitting at the nape of his neck and framing his face in gentle, loose waves. His eyes were still their iridescent ocean waves of blue and pink, but their was a soullessness to them that I hadnât seen since our first encounter.
I donât even notice that my hands are trembling at my sides, oxygen coming in low, shallow breaths as I fight to grip onto reality. Rafayel was here. He was alive. I was alive.
âDonât worry. Iâm not going to do anything to you,â he mutters, turning away from me without so much as another glance. Only then did I realize I hadnât removed the veilânot that it seemed to make a difference. He hadnât even recognized the Lemurian clothing I wore, meaning he hadnât even fully digested who was standing in front of him.
Emotions overwhelm me as I back against the dressing table at the corner of the room, hands still shaking and my chest growing tight as I try to process what my next steps were. Iâd only truly thought as far along as finding Rafayel and ensuring that he was okay. I hadnât expected to be so overcome with relief that I was about to collapse in front of him.
And yet, I did.
Slumping to the floor in shock, Rafayel raises an eyebrow before he rushes to my side. Thereâs still a coldness to him, but he reaches for my hand in his gloved one. He squints at me in confusion, glancing back at the door where the guards stood outside.
âHeyâhey, look at me. Youâre all right. Pay no mind to the guards.â He looks down at the veil hooked behind my ears, glancing back up at me in question. âMay I ⊠may I remove the veil? It will likely help you breathe a little easier âŠâ
With a shaky nod and shaky hands, I reach for the veil and release it from its hooks. The fabric drifts to the ground, and a chill runs through the air as our eyes truly meet for the first time in what feels like forever.
The weight of unspoken feelings sit heavy on my chest, a quiet longing that had manifested itself when I had finally come to after being left for dead. Rafayel's eyes widen in shock, gnawing at the pit of my stomach. It was a look of a mix of emotionsâdisbelief, confusion, as though his mind hadnât registered that I was sitting there before him. I wanted to say something, anything to ease the tension in that moment. All I could do was sit there and stare back into his eyes, watching him back away from me in silent panic.
âYouâre not real,â is all he says, his breath caught in his throat. His lips parted as though he were about to call out my name, but no sound came out other than a choked, desperate exhale. âYouâre not real.â
âRafayel,â is all I can choke out, my own voice barely a whisper as I remain in place.
His gaze darts over me wildly, as though he needed to register every inch of my presence. I finally stand on shaking legs, my body moving on its own as I reach out for him. He flinches, backing away instinctively and causing me to pull my hand away in surprise.
âPlease,â he begs in a hushed, cracking whisper. âPlease, tell me this isnât some sick sort of joke. I donât think I can take that.â
âRafayel,â I repeat, reaching for him again and brushing my fingers against his cheek gently. It was as though I didnât believe that he was real, either.
His eyes flutter shut, leaning into my touch before he pulls me into a tight embrace. As though if he didnât hold on, Iâd slip out of his reach again. I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face into his chest with a deep sob I didnât realize I needed to release. He cradles my neck with one hand, the other rubbing tight, small circles against my back as he rests his chin atop my head. My body rocks with every sob against his touch, his own body jerking in response.
âIâm so sorry,â he mutters against my hair, the apology drowned out by the sound of my wails into his chest. âI would never blame you if you never forgave me for what I did.â
âIâIââ Words struggle to come out between deep gasps, watery eyes reuniting with his as he brushes a thumb against the tears that stain my cheeks.
There was something so shameful about breaking down in this capacity in front of him. Iâd spent months being strong, captaining my crew along so many others and bearing the weight of court politics without a complaint. The way his arms embraced me was something I didnât realize Iâd craved to experience.
Rafayel pulls away from me gently, just enough so that we could look at one another more clearly. His gaze flickers to my lips for a brief momentâthough, I pretend I donât notice as I brush a thumb against his jaw. A deep, dark sorrow swims in his eyes, one that mirrors mine. Just as Iâm about to say something more, a knock raps against the doors.
âLord Rafayel,â a voice calls, and he stiffens. He gestures to the armoire, urging me to hide before the guards entered. Without skipping a beat, I slip out of his grasp and into the wardrobe. A thin sliver between the doors offers me just enough of a view of what happens outside as Rafayel allows the guards entry.
âWhere did the whore go?â the same guards ask, glancing around the room. I notice the way Rafayelâs jaw stiffens at the comment.
âSheâs been taken away by the handmaids through the staff pathway,â he answers near immediately, gesturing across the room to where I know the palace staff would often go through so that they did not disrupt visitors in the main halls. âEasier than parading her through the halls in front of my wife-to-be.â
âIf sheâs gone, no need to keep up the façade.â
Abruptly, one of the guards strikes a blow against Rafayelâs core, causing him to double over with a groan. He falls to his knees, nearly as fast as my heart shatters at the sight. I clasp a hand over my mouth, muffling the gasp that threatened to escape in surprise. The other male reaches behind Rafayelâs back, shackling him between a myriad of chains bound to his wrists and ankles. He drags him across the room, binding him to the legs of the bed nearby before unsheathing his sword and bringing it to Rafayelâs chin to meet his gaze.
âHeâll be here shortly,â the guard barks, dragging the tip of his sword down Rafayelâs chest lazily before swiping it across his arm in one swift motion. Rafayel hisses at the wound, eyes shooting daggers up at the guards that laugh amongst themselves before they return to their posts by the doors.
Iâm about to exit the armoire when Rafayel calls out to me in a low command, his voice dark without even a glance in my direction.
âStay in there until he leaves.â
Who is heâ?
Several moments pass with me pressed against the back of the armoire, peering through the small space and anticipating what was about to happen. Rafayel hangs his head, wrists and ankles bound behind him as he sits back on his knees. I imagined heâd been experiencing mistreatment by Cassius, but I didnât expect to confront it so soon in our reunion. The color in his face is gone, replaced by a pale shade of panic I hadnât seen from him before.
The door creaks open again, Rafayelâs head still hanging as I crane my neck at Cassiusâ entrance.
The wildest thing to come out of the TikTok ban is the amount of influencers admitting to just straight up LYING and scamming people.
Like.
We all knew most influencers were shady, of course. But they are just admitting it with their full chest because they think the app is vanishing.
And. Y'all. Even if it DOES vanish those videos are still gonna be out there. People have downloaded them. People have screen recorded them. What did these influencers think was gonna happen? The app was gonna vanish and people's memories were gonna be deleted along with it?
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