and when he kisses her

he devotes the entire ocean to his beloved

[therinaes]

my thoughts will echo your name —

➳ hi i'm ri ♡ | twenty . she/her . filo . infj . pisces .

main blog: @aestherin

currently: living in dreams

➳ masterlist ➳ tags

fresh blooms ✯¸.•´¨`•✿ —

baby fishie - rafayel x reader

fated firsts - all lads li (separate) x reader

happy pill - rafayel x reader

now playing ...

— until i see you again.

© therinaes 2025

[therinaes]

Happy Pill 🐚

in which a domestic and mundane activity turns into laughs and giggles for you, all the while your lover turns into a sulking mess

aka you playing with rafayel’s hair and having a fun time ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

tags: comfort, fluff

wc: 694

ri’s note: a little comfort drabble :> i hope this could also lift up the moods of those who’ve been feeling down like me lately if even just a little :)) also not proofread just something i wrote on a whim :D

Everything right now makes you feel sleepy — Rafayel’s fingers lightly combing through your strands, the blasting yet strangely comforting sound of the hair dryer he’s currently using on you, the natural after-bath drowsiness.

All of these paired with the eventful events you had earlier in the day, when everything felt heavy. When every single little thing wasn’t going your way. You feeling very unprepared and unmotivated for the day? Check. Your sleeves getting caught on the doorknob? Check. Traffic? Check. The cafeteria in your workplace running out of the dish you were about to order just as it was getting close to your turn? Check. 

As if that wasn’t enough. It rained. 

You don’t know whether to laugh — because the heavens was with you, also feeling down — or to cry, because even the heavens didn’t spare you today.

At least, the heavens sent your lover along with the downpour.

“Rafayel here to rescue his beloved princess from the rain!” He immediately declares as soon as he steps out of his car, carrying an umbrella. He stops in front of you, lips parting to let out his usual tease, only for them to zip again upon getting a clear glimpse of your glum state.

“Bad day, darling?”

All he receives is a nod.

He hums, opens his arms as wide as he possibly could while still ensuring the umbrella he was holding still envelops the two of you.

And you fall into him again. Just like the other times. And he gladly catches you. Every single time.

“You dozing off, cutie?” 

“Mhm,” you murmured softly. “A little.”

“Mhm, okay. Got it. I’ll speed this up so you can sleep ASAP once your hair is dry.”

“No,” you whined. 

“No?”

“Wanna dry your hair.” You said before you languidly stood up from your fluffy stool. In a blink, the tool was stolen from his hand, two soft hands pushing him onto the seat by his shoulders. “Sit.”

“Already seated, ma’am.” Rafayel replied, both hands raising in the air.

You smile lightly, despite him not being able to see it. He’s so cute.

Now it’s Rafayel’s turn to feel sleepy. As you’re watching your fingers thread through his beautiful lavender locks, a thought forms, and you grin.

His eyelids were shut, yet you know very well he is still somewhat awake. You definitely can’t be perfectly sneaky for this, but this is a very rare opportunity!

To. Play. With. His. Hair!

You turn off the hair dryer right as his hair turned from dripping wet to perfectly damp. Stretching your arms, you reach out for the mini hair tie sitting conveniently on the desk. 

“Huh? Are you done?” He voiced as he heard the hair dryer rest against the wood. 

“Nope, hold on. Stay still for me, Raf.”

And he did.

Even as he felt you sectioning his hair weirdly. Even as he felt you grabbing a handful, having no problem bonding them together due to the optimal dampness. Even as he felt you tying those strands together with one of your hair ties. Even as he heard you struggling to stop yourself from just cackling right then and there behind him.

“Cutieee,” he said in a lower tone, suspicious yet light. “What did you do?”

“Pff–what? Nothing!” 

“Hand me a mirror then!”

“My hand mirror is so far away. Let’s just use my phone!”

You first angle it to show only your face, then quickly move it so that he can surprise himself with his own appearance.

Of course, you were quick enough to capture a lot before he hid himself out of frame.

“Why do I look like that?!”

“What–” You chuckle. “You look like an apple, baby! So cute!”

“No, dove. I look like that kid from Despicable Me!”

Okay, honestly, he didn’t expect it’d be that bad when he just let you do your thing earlier.

But this short-term humiliation in exchange for now having your carefree laughs and giggles instead of the frowns and gloom from earlier? 

And him being the sole reason for that harmonious sound of joy of yours?

Oh, he’d be willing to play parlor with you anytime.

[therinaes]

Fated Firsts

in which you encounter each love interest in your first day of university

fluff, crack, college au

college student! mc/reader x xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb (separate) (or it can be your harem we listen and we dont judge <3)

wc: 2.1k (around 400 per li)

ri’s note: me romanticizing uni hell </3 also not proofread :DD

XAVIER 💫

College of Mass Comm… 

David Hall…

Room 107…

You almost kneeled in gratefulness after realizing that your room for your very first subject was located in the first floor. If it was on the third floor or higher… 

You winced. Looking gaunt and raddled after trekking through stupid amount of steps is not your goal impression to make on your classmates. Especially since it was the first class of the day.

Spying through the thin glass opening of your classroom’s door, you realized that you were a little too early. Most seats were empty. All were, actually.

Except one.

You can vaguely spot a man’s silhouette in the last row, languidly seated on a chair beside the window.

You twisted the doorknob and frowned. Why the heck is this door so creaky?

However, all thoughts of discontentment about the old door were gone once you stepped inside.

Overridden by awe.

Your earlier distance as well as the blurry glass on the door was doing your currently drowsing classmate injustice!

The immaculate outline of tame sunlight peeking through the windows are landing perfectly on his radiant silver hair, his pointed nose, his pouted lips… he genuinely looks like he’s shining.

If you were a tad bit more delusional, you’d totally think he was a son of Apollo tossed down into the humble mortal realm. 

A gentle yawn brought you out of your stupor. “You know, miss. It’s rude to stare at people when they’re sleeping.”

Your mouth parts in attempt to retaliate. Only for his soft voice to make its presence known once again. 

“Oh, look a cat.” You blink, and he’s now facing the window on his left. The silver-haired guy slides the window just enough for the cat to pass through. The little puffball, as if comprehending his intent, hops, fiddling, until he finally settles himself on the windowsill.

“Meow…” The cat purrs. 

You hear him grin, before proceeding to pet the cat. “There, there.”

He turns back to you, left hand still busy with his new furry friend. “Are you just gonna stand there? Not gonna pet Puffball?”

“You already gave it a name?”

“Not an it. Him.”

“Okay, my point still stands, uh—”

“My name’s Xavier.”

“I’m [Name].” You say before finally turning away from his direction, eyes roaming around the remaining seat. In all honesty, you prefer seats in the last row, especially ones near the windows but…

After that embarrassing and awkward first encounter… you’d rather go for seats far away from him.

“Hm? Where are you going?” Xavier asks.

“Finding my seat.”

“It’s beside mine, is it not?”

“What?” You were certain there were no seating arrangements made! Are those still a thing even in college? Your brows furrow as confusion settles in.

And when your gaze finally finds its way back to him, what welcomes you was an innocent smile. An innocent smile reeking of mischief.

“You disturbed my sleep. You have to make it up to me by making sure I stay awake for the entire lecture.”

ZAYNE ❄️

“I’m really sorry for inconveniencing you, [Name]!” Your new friend, Tara, cried. 

“It’s nothing, don’t worry!” You assure her.

No, really. You get her.

Dysmenorrhea can be such a pain in the ass. 

One second you and Tara were peacefully talking about where to get lunch, and the next thing you know, she bends over and writhes in pain, her hands hovering over her abdomen. 

Luckily, your university is also known for its merciless pre-med and med programs. Meaning… it does have its very own hospital!

“You can leave now, [Name]! I promise I’ll be alright now hehe. You should get your lunch too!”

You frown. “Are you sure about that, Tara?”

She grins. “Yeap! I’ll text you later once I’m out and okay to go home!”

You sigh. There’s no winning against this girl, really. 

You leave your good friend in the ward, as per her request, and head towards the front desk where nurses are currently stationed. You wanted to at least tell them that you’re leaving Tara in their care before you left.

You weren’t aware, however, that your childhood friend was a fourth-year advanced med program student in the same university. And that he was currently serving as an intern in the very same hospital you were in.

Imagine his panic when he saw you again, after a decade. 

Panic, because holy. You now study at the same university as him?

And also, panic. Because goodness, why the heck are you alone in the hospital, talking to the nurses? Were you hurt?

The stoic, stellar student Zayne finally rushes, purely incited by adrenaline. A once-in-a-blue-moon experience in his life.

“[Name]?” He speaks, the moment he was finally in front of you.

“Zayne?!” You exclaim out of shock. Shock of two things — his unexpected appearance, and yes… His appearance.

Heavens. Has he always looked this good?

He both grew and glowed up!

“Why are you here? Were you hurt? Do you feel sick?” The man immediately asks. Despite his composed facade, you sense a frantic worry, making you chuckle as you wave your hands dismissively. 

“No, no, don’t worry, Zaynie! I just accompanied a friend earlier and was on my way to leaving. What about you? I missed you, it’s been years!”

At your reassurance, his shoulders ease and a soft curve forms at his lips. “I’m a med student here, currently interning. And I missed you too.”

He glances at his wristwatch for a millisecond, clears his throat, before flashing you another small smile.

“It just so happens that my break time has started and my colleagues are occupied with their shifts. Perhaps I can treat you to a ‘reunion lunch’ if you don’t have classes right now? That includes desserts, of course.”

RAFAYEL 🐚

Walking and sightseeing around campus during your vacant hours was definitely something you could add to your routine.

Stumbling upon an interesting guy in the courtyard, however… you don’t know if you could.

He was muttering while frowning at his blatantly expensive camera, furiously tapping the buttons back and forth. Purple strands of hair — magnificently outlined by sunlight and swayed by wind — obscuring his face.

“Do you need help? Is there something wrong with your camera?”

He grumbles disapprovingly, eyes still too focused on his gadget to look at you.

“Nothing’s wrong with my camera. It’s people’s fault they aren’t captivating enough for them to be worthy of being my subject.”

His tone and the light lilt in his voice made it difficult for you to discern whether it was purely what he thinks or if that was his type of humor.

“Uhm—”

Finally, he turns to you.

Given by his built and voice that you’ve come to witness earlier, it was of little surprise to you that the man was attractive — unreal, face sculpted by the gods, possibly not human type of attractive. Alluring and enchanting, especially those double-hued irises in his eyes —

His eyes that are now… widening in recognition?

Though you are certain this is your first meeting?

“There you are!”

“Excuse me?”

“Finally, my muse. My subject!”

“What—”

He lends his hand out, bowing slightly as he flashes a boyish grin. “I’m Rafayel, a second-year fine arts student.”

“This one prof for one of my classes suddenly just tasked us to go around campus, find inspo or a subject, and then submit a rough draft of a portrait by the end of class time.”

“But it’s just the first day?”

“Right?!” He sighs dramatically. His fingers make their way to his forehead, lightly pressing against it as if he was suffering with a headache. “You get me! Isn’t he so insufferable?”

You were torn on what to think about Rafayel’s theatrics. On one hand, you’d think he was being absolutely dramatic. However, on the other, you’d think he was completely justified. Even you would absolutely despise it if one of your professors tasked you with something on the very first day!

While contemplating, you suddenly recall something he mentioned.

“Wait, wait. So, uh, what did you call me again earlier?”

His lips curve slightly, eyes gleaming with mirth.

“Miss—” He leans down closer, just enough to read what’s written on your ID. You flush. And he smirks at that. “Darling Miss [Name],” he sings.

“Would you please do me the favor of being my muse?”

SYLUS 🐦‍⬛

Having several booths from different organizations in the university during first day of classes was something common in college.

It was a way for them to make their own organizations known, for them to look for applicants and recruits, and for some orgs, for them to possibly acquire funds by selling various trinkets.

“Hmm, this is quite expensive.” You mumble, holding up a keychain of a figure from a merchandise that you adore.

“Ah! Miss, that is official merchandise. Explains the price!” The guy assigned to the booth informs you. “We have even more official merch of that character if you’re interested.”

“Oh, I’m only interested in the keychain.” You laugh apologetically. No, you were very much in fact interested in the other merch. It would be more accurate to say that the keychain’s the only thing you can afford, given this booth’s price points.

“Oh, that’s totally fine! Are you getting it?”

You contemplate, staring at the keychain for a long time before finally making a move to take your wallet out of your bag. The booth guy’s eyes twinkle with eagerness.

“Hmm.” You hear a low voice hum beside you, but you pay it no mind.

At first.

“I’d definitely recommend you to spend your money on that keychain,” the man says. “If your goal was to get scammed, that is.”

Is he talking to me?!

You turn towards your left and see a white-haired guy with crimson eyes that are currently squinting in disgust at the keychain you held. “Look, the production’s not good quality at all. Excess plastic here, deformed parts there.”

“That price is just blatant scam. But oh well, you do you.”

You breathe in, dramatically turning back to the figure in your hands. 

He was right! Why didn’t you notice those earlier?!

You return the keychain back to where it came from without a word, hastily bringing your wallet back in your bag. 

“Sylus!” The booth guy’s voice roared. “Always depriving me of customers!”

The man — Sylus, you heard — merely shrugged. “Not my fault scamming’s your only way to make some.”

Slightly jaw-slacked, your eyes followed his figure, which now headed towards the neighboring booth currently ran by two identical men… No way, are they twins?!

What is he going to do there now, jeopardize their sales too?

“Boss!” One of the two exclaimed. “You’re back! A lot of sales so far!” 

What?!

Unbeknownst to you, Sylus has been aware of your eyes on him this whole time. So he stops in his tracks, returns your gaze with his crimson ones, and smirks.

“If you wanted to get your money’s worth, you should’ve went for me from the start, sweetie.”

CALEB 🍎

First meeting? 

No such thing with Caleb.

You’ve known each other since you two can remember. 

You graduated kindergarten? You were together. Your first failed test? You were together. You graduated elementary and high school? You were together. Yes, he was ahead by a few years, but you two were together. For almost every milestone in the other’s life, you both were there for each other.

So it only made sense for the two of you to rent together during college.

And you love it, because living together with him means getting to eat his cooking most of the time.

Like right now, when dinner after your exhausting first day was your favorite dish of his. 

“Yum! Caleb, you’re the best!” You grin as you give him two thumbs up after only a mouthful. Chef Caleb really never fails! 

“Reallyyy?” He drawls, not even hiding the playfulness in his voice. “And here I thought my spot as your best person was getting replaced.”

“Huh?”

“I saw you earlier roaming around. Wanted to approach ‘ya. Buuut, I then saw that you were having sooo much fun with your friends. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I just went and walked away.”

You huffed and gently put down your silverware. 

“I’m the one who should be saying that, actually! I saw you, too! Having sooo much fun with your friends. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I just went and walked away.” You retorted, imitating his tone a little bit.

Bewildered, his eyes widen for a second. Until he laughs. 

A little too much for your liking.

“Shut up, Caleb!”

“What, are you jealous, pipsqueak?”

“Jealous your face!”

He chuckles still. “What?”

“You know, Caleb, you’re much more attractive when you shut up. So why don’t you do just that!”

Caleb stops, and you think that’s finally the end of it. Not until he flashed a mischievous grin.

“Ahuh. So you think I’m attractive then?”

[therinaes]

i need more abysswalker fics 🗣️😔💔

[therinaes]

Baby Fishie 🐚

in which you find out you’re with child, and the first thing that comes to your mind is how to break the news to your husband

aka you messing with soon-to-be-dad Rafayel’s head 

tags: fluff, crack

wc: 1k

ri's note: made this on a whim hehe i love them your honor i love papa raf, dad ayel :<

When you found out that you were with child, you had two things you became overly excited about: number one, your baby (of course), and number two, Rafayel’s reaction. Now, you knew simply telling your husband about it would already elicit such a satisfying reaction from him, but… unfortunately, you were just as over the top as him.

While mulling things over, you decided to start the game by cutely hinting at things — from buying those things that come with full-size along with mini-sized ones, to reposting short videos of cute and adorable babies (sometimes fishies).

Most of the time, however, you hinted in a not so cute way.

“Raf.”

“Yeah?” He isn’t looking at you yet, his back still turned towards you as he faces his canvas while you lay reading on his couch.

“Do Lemurians give birth or do they really lay eggs?”

You hear his tall, ladder-like wooden chair creak as he quickly turns to your direction. “Huh?”

“What?”

“Why are you asking that?!”

You slightly raise the book you were currently reading, the words ‘The Land of Lemuria’ elegantly embossed on the hardbound cover. Rafayel scoffed.

“Cutie, you know that book is a complete scam, right?” He whines. “Don’t easily believe things you read, even if it’s in published books… Especially about ancient and long-lost civilizations.”

A feigned sigh comes from your lips. “Well, I’m asking you, a true-blooded Lemurian, aren’t I?”

Seeing your poor husband flustered, you kindly decided to press him more. You simply can’t help it! That cute little pout of his, the adorable furrow of his brows, and the scarlet that slowly seeps through his ears — they all make it a little hard for you to stop teasing him.

“I’m just being a good wife, wanting to know more about my own husband’s origins. I saw something about how fishies laid eggs and I just got curious about how your people reproduce but no,” you dragged the last syllable on, seemingly whining. “The husband in question lectures me instead.”

He grins. “Aww. Wife, is this your way of saying that you’re missing me in the comforts of my own company because I’m busy painting?”

‘When did I even say that?’ You thought.

Rafayel was met with no response as you only rolled your eyes before pretending to give your attention back to the book. Soon, light sounds of his footsteps against the steps of his ladder reached your ears.

The next thing you know, the book serving as your prop was quickly snatched away.

“I’m all yours now.” He beams as he lays down beside you. You feel his arms wrap around your waist, his hair tickling your cheeks as he buries his head between your neck and your shoulders.

“So what was the answer to my question?”

Rafayel only huffs as he snuggles closer.

Little did he know, it was only the first of several similarly-lined questions. On a particular Sunday morning, he was woken up with another question of yours: what did he look like when he was a baby. The next Tuesday, it was, “Is Reddie like our first child or our first pet?”

It wasn’t even just mere questions.

Once, Rafayel accidentally saw you browsing through baby shops on your phone, your phone that you totally did not purposely leave on the couch when you had to go to the restroom. Another afternoon, he was minding his own business, locked in and painting in his studio. The next thing he knew, you were now telling him off for leaving his things around again.

“This is why we have eyes, my dear wife. So we can see things and avoid them accordingly!” He flamboyantly declares, whipping his paintbrush up to accentuate his point.

You raise a brow. “Oh really? Then why were you hospitalized that one time for tripping on your paintbrush after getting out of your bath tub?”

“That was one time!”

“And? It still happened!” You let out a dramatic sigh. “What would you do if your child trips on your paintbrush?”

He stills. And as if he was one with nature, the gentle breeze and waves do too.

You turn away, hiding your triumphant smile.

“What?” 

And more inarticulate noises of confusion flooded the entire studio when he realized you already left before he even got his clarification.

Now, Rafayel is not at all naive.

He definitely had his suspicions, alright. He got a hunch, but then he picked up on how you started having mood swings and how you had your sensitivity heightened (during these days he learned how to pamper you even better than he regularly does). Unfortunately, the timing coincided with his estimates of your cycle dates, so your husband was a little saddened that his initial theory of you being with child was debunked.

Little did he know, his pretty little wife was already being impatient with how he’s been failing to pick up the clues left and right.

You want him to be with you in your next appointment.

Meaning, you had to tell him very soon.

And doing so while he was cooking up one of your pregnancy cravings might just be the perfect timing, you think.

“Do you smell something fishy?” You say as you approach and watch Rafayel as he confidently displays his culinary prowess. 

“Are you talking about the seafood dish you requested that I am currently making or your behavior lately?”

“No, actually, I was referring to my belly.”

“Huh?” He says, amusement evident in his voice. “What, did you eat fish earlier or something? Swallowed some of my fishie friends, cutie?”

You laugh. 

“Rafayel, are you serious?”

Your husband furrows his eyebrows and pouts, turning back to the stove. You merely smile before heading behind him, gently snaking your arms around his waist after. Rafayel, feeling his beloved tiptoeing, instinctively crouches and slacks down a little, making it easier for you to rest your chin on his shoulder.

“Rafayel.” He smiles at your cute voice.

“Hmm?”

“If you’re a fishie, does that make the little one inside of me a baby fishie?”

You grin as you feel him freeze. 

He then rapidly turns toward you, dish currently simmering in the pot now forgotten, granting you the pleasure of watching his face as he vividly expresses how the gears in his head are turning. Then freezing. Then turning again.

You cup his face, and Rafayel immediately melts against the warmth of your palms as his glassy eyes softly mirror yours.

“Congratulations, papa fishie.”

[therinaes]

i need more tamino rafayel 😔

[therinaes]

Baby Fishie 🐚

in which you find out you’re with child, and the first thing that comes to your mind is how to break the news to your husband

aka you messing with soon-to-be-dad Rafayel’s head 

tags: fluff, crack

wc: 1k

ri's note: made this on a whim hehe i love them your honor i love papa raf, dad ayel :<

When you found out that you were with child, you had two things you became overly excited about: number one, your baby (of course), and number two, Rafayel’s reaction. Now, you knew simply telling your husband about it would already elicit such a satisfying reaction from him, but… unfortunately, you were just as over the top as him.

While mulling things over, you decided to start the game by cutely hinting at things — from buying those things that come with full-size along with mini-sized ones, to reposting short videos of cute and adorable babies (sometimes fishies).

Most of the time, however, you hinted in a not so cute way.

“Raf.”

“Yeah?” He isn’t looking at you yet, his back still turned towards you as he faces his canvas while you lay reading on his couch.

“Do Lemurians give birth or do they really lay eggs?”

You hear his tall, ladder-like wooden chair creak as he quickly turns to your direction. “Huh?”

“What?”

“Why are you asking that?!”

You slightly raise the book you were currently reading, the words ‘The Land of Lemuria’ elegantly embossed on the hardbound cover. Rafayel scoffed.

“Cutie, you know that book is a complete scam, right?” He whines. “Don’t easily believe things you read, even if it’s in published books… Especially about ancient and long-lost civilizations.”

A feigned sigh comes from your lips. “Well, I’m asking you, a true-blooded Lemurian, aren’t I?”

Seeing your poor husband flustered, you kindly decided to press him more. You simply can’t help it! That cute little pout of his, the adorable furrow of his brows, and the scarlet that slowly seeps through his ears — they all make it a little hard for you to stop teasing him.

“I’m just being a good wife, wanting to know more about my own husband’s origins. I saw something about how fishies laid eggs and I just got curious about how your people reproduce but no,” you dragged the last syllable on, seemingly whining. “The husband in question lectures me instead.”

He grins. “Aww. Wife, is this your way of saying that you’re missing me in the comforts of my own company because I’m busy painting?”

‘When did I even say that?’ You thought.

Rafayel was met with no response as you only rolled your eyes before pretending to give your attention back to the book. Soon, light sounds of his footsteps against the steps of his ladder reached your ears.

The next thing you know, the book serving as your prop was quickly snatched away.

“I’m all yours now.” He beams as he lays down beside you. You feel his arms wrap around your waist, his hair tickling your cheeks as he buries his head between your neck and your shoulders.

“So what was the answer to my question?”

Rafayel only huffs as he snuggles closer.

Little did he know, it was only the first of several similarly-lined questions. On a particular Sunday morning, he was woken up with another question of yours: what did he look like when he was a baby. The next Tuesday, it was, “Is Reddie like our first child or our first pet?”

It wasn’t even just mere questions.

Once, Rafayel accidentally saw you browsing through baby shops on your phone, your phone that you totally did not purposely leave on the couch when you had to go to the restroom. Another afternoon, he was minding his own business, locked in and painting in his studio. The next thing he knew, you were now telling him off for leaving his things around again.

“This is why we have eyes, my dear wife. So we can see things and avoid them accordingly!” He flamboyantly declares, whipping his paintbrush up to accentuate his point.

You raise a brow. “Oh really? Then why were you hospitalized that one time for tripping on your paintbrush after getting out of your bath tub?”

“That was one time!”

“And? It still happened!” You let out a dramatic sigh. “What would you do if your child trips on your paintbrush?”

He stills. And as if he was one with nature, the gentle breeze and waves do too.

You turn away, hiding your triumphant smile.

“What?” 

And more inarticulate noises of confusion flooded the entire studio when he realized you already left before he even got his clarification.

Now, Rafayel is not at all naive.

He definitely had his suspicions, alright. He got a hunch, but then he picked up on how you started having mood swings and how you had your sensitivity heightened (during these days he learned how to pamper you even better than he regularly does). Unfortunately, the timing coincided with his estimates of your cycle dates, so your husband was a little saddened that his initial theory of you being with child was debunked.

Little did he know, his pretty little wife was already being impatient with how he’s been failing to pick up the clues left and right.

You want him to be with you in your next appointment.

Meaning, you had to tell him very soon.

And doing so while he was cooking up one of your pregnancy cravings might just be the perfect timing, you think.

“Do you smell something fishy?” You say as you approach and watch Rafayel as he confidently displays his culinary prowess. 

“Are you talking about the seafood dish you requested that I am currently making or your behavior lately?”

“No, actually, I was referring to my belly.”

“Huh?” He says, amusement evident in his voice. “What, did you eat fish earlier or something? Swallowed some of my fishie friends, cutie?”

You laugh. 

“Rafayel, are you serious?”

Your husband furrows his eyebrows and pouts, turning back to the stove. You merely smile before heading behind him, gently snaking your arms around his waist after. Rafayel, feeling his beloved tiptoeing, instinctively crouches and slacks down a little, making it easier for you to rest your chin on his shoulder.

“Rafayel.” He smiles at your cute voice.

“Hmm?”

“If you’re a fishie, does that make the little one inside of me a baby fishie?”

You grin as you feel him freeze. 

He then rapidly turns toward you, dish currently simmering in the pot now forgotten, granting you the pleasure of watching his face as he vividly expresses how the gears in his head are turning. Then freezing. Then turning again.

You cup his face, and Rafayel immediately melts against the warmth of your palms as his glassy eyes softly mirror yours.

“Congratulations, papa fishie.”

[therinaes]

omg buhay na si boss

- 🐚

sis shh if i dont think of smth today we ghost <//3

[therinaes]

hi. 😁 did you miss me

OMG BESTIE HELLO I MISSED U LONG TIME NO SEE ?!?!

HOW R UU

[therinaes]

Laments Unheard 🐚

tears of romirro in the eyes of your beloved sea god, wherein he thought that he would be the one bidding his final goodbye, and not the other way around

tags: rafayel x reader, angst

wc: 1.6k

ri’s note: why am i doing this ( ɵ̥̥ _ ɵ̥̥)

Rafayel was in denial at first.

But as feels His own power slipping away, His own life draining away from Him, He fears that you may actually have to bid each other farewell.

He gets His answer when He awakes in the Sea God’s Tomb, where you brought Him out of worry — He was alarmingly unconscious, never awaking even as you resonate with Him. 

He quietly glances at all the figures present, lingering just a little bit longer on the Long-bearded Sea God who just wished that He find true salvation. He hated that He was unconscious, because He knew that something had just happened, and He knew that no one in the Tomb would tell him anything.

Usually, the last Lemurian Sea God would be fine with not knowing anything. Although a god, He long accepted He was not omnipotent.

 

But it killed Rafayel to be deprived of something involving you and Him.

“You’re hiding something from me.” 

“You’re the one who’s been hiding things from me,” you replied. He averted His gaze. He really thought He was doing a good job at playing pretend. Just why did you have to go and search for Him when He was unconscious like that? “You’ve expanded too much of your power. Your body can’t sustain itself anymore.”

He raises a brow and scoffs. “Are you underestimating me? Defying a prophecy from the Tome of the Sea God did take a considerable toll on me, but I’ll recover in a century give or take.”

The god inwardly winces at His own lie.

“Stop frowning. Let tomorrow worry about itself. As for the present —” He takes your hand and summons water currents to carry you both upward “— it’s almost dawn. We might be able to watch the sunrise as we head back.”

‿︵‿︵‿

Rafayel spends His precious time with you upon returning from the Sea God’s Tomb.

Unlike before, He does not let Himself rot away isolated in His temple. 

He seeks you out.

Rafayel takes you out to explore your hometown of Romirro — streets, alleys, wilderness, wherever it is that fate takes the two of you. Your smiling figure, one He tries to be the cause of a lot in the recent days, He commits to memory. If He gets the chance to, He’d be sure to bleed into a canvas your perfect image. Or maybe He’d carve a marble into the shape of your heavenly presence.

His enthusiasm in the passing days was not at all feigned. Everything He showed you was real.

But so was everything He hid from you — His lengthening slumbers, His weakening self, His draining life.

The Sea God is aware that He might be speeding up His impending doom by exerting Himself, going on with His daily pursuits with His bride. But He also does not want you to remember Him wasting away, lying helplessly in His chambers of water. 

He wanted to leave you with something good.

And what better than pleasant memories? For that is all of Him that He can leave behind for you.

And maybe His Heart, he thinks.

“You’re overthinking it. Humans have all sorts of hair colors. Why can’t my tail change color?” He jests, seeing you fretting over a portion of His submerged tail turning into a dull gray-white. He wishes He had the power to hide the glaring evidence from you, but the best that He could do was make up lies. “So what were you saying about the foot of Mount Onyuna?”

“...I was just wondering if you’d like to go out for a walk.”

Rafayel smiles. You need not be sheepish when asking about going on walks. He was yours, as much as you were His. Of course He would readily agree —

He feels it. And then He pauses. Until He blurts out, “I’m not in the mood.”

And it pains Him.

It’s not that He does not want to.

But He can’t.

“You can’t turn your tail into a pair of legs anymore?” Your voice was grim. As if there was an implication behind your reasonable accusation. And He hates hearing you like that.

So He forces Himself, once again switching his dulling tail into a pair of human legs, all to bring an end to your worries. In vain.

‿︵‿︵‿

“Where are you going?” You ask Him when He informs you that He’d be away from Romirro for some time. A blatant lie, of course. 

It wasn’t just Romirro He’d be away from.

“I’m just looking for pearls.” 

The Sea God inwardly winces at His excuse. Hundreds, thousands, millions of years of existence, and yet, that was the excuse He thinks of at this moment?

The Lemurian was brought out of His stupor at your next question.

“Rafayel, is there anything you need me to do for you?”

You look into His eyes, and He lets himself drown in yours. 

“Tell me. No matter what it is, I’ll do it.”

He sees expectation and desperation, hoping and pleading. In the back of His mind, He knows what you wanted to hear.

He usually cannot resist those eyes. 

But for the first time, Rafayel refuses you.

“No.”

What more could He dare to ask from you when you were already His everything?

Why would the Sea God — your Rafayel — want His heart back when it truly does belong to you, His beloved bride?

‿︵‿︵‿

“It’s a simple melody. Yet you still haven’t learned it properly.”

“Romirro taught me how to be a ruler, not a musician.”

“Listen carefully. This is the last time I’ll teach you.”

And He hopes that you do learn how to play your favorite melody. So that when you long for it even when He’s gone, you will still be able to hear it. So that when you long for Him, that melody that you so love will be able to comfort you in His place.

“The sea inevitably returns to where it belongs, and separates from the land.” He says as He glances at you.

“But the sea always meets the shore,” you reply. “We could see each other again.”

He slightly frowns at your words, the reality of what He could not avoid dawning on Him — that after He leaves, you two would not see each other again.

And so Rafayel takes in everything in front of Him.

He stares at you, His darling bride, lovingly and longingly. Leaves a gentle caress on your cheek, before diving into you straight right in, as if He was running out of time and he was. But, despite that, His kiss was gentle and dedicating, full of devotion — just like Him.

He continues to take you in, never ceasing, never resting.

And as He does so, He thinks, He should’ve done this more when He had the chance. Instead of turning you away, He should’ve opened Himself to you. Opened His arms, let you run to His embrace, where He will shower you with His affection and love.

Should’ve hugged you more. Should’ve kissed you more. Should’ve held you more. More and more, so that you would have so much of Him that even when He’s gone, you would still feel Him with you.

He reverently looks up at you as you both rose from the sea. He kisses your chin, and then your neck, worshipping you as if you were the god and He was the follower. And maybe, He thinks, maybe He is.

And this up-and-coming final act of His would be His greatest form of offering to you.

“You said it was once part of your heart.” You tell Him as you remove your shell necklace after the two of you part. “It’s time to return it to where it belongs.”

Confused, he looks down at the little thing you placed in His palm. “The place you hold in my heart far outweighs this little scale.”

“Because of my selfishness, I took the heart that belongs to you.”

His furrowed brows raise in surprise when He suddenly feels your lips.

He did not know why you did that.

But now He does, as you chant your next words that ruin Him.

“Now… With the power of the Sea God’s vow, our covenant — Rafayel, obey my command!”

A dagger forms in His hands, held controlled by you.

“Reclaim this heart and end our everlasting bond.”

The relentless waves around you reflect His turmoil. All He could do was struggle in vain, as He looks at you, eyes begging, pleading, for you to stop and rescind your command.

But how could His beloved do that with a dagger now piercing through her heart?

Rafayel helplessly calls out your name and holds your weakening frame as He finally regains Himself. “No… I refuse to accept this betrayal!”

You show him your softest smile. And He breaks. He feels His eyes sting. 

Chilling hands find their way to His face, caressing His cheek. “This heart can save you… and Romirro… My death… is worth more than my life…”

“The Sea God doesn’t need this heart! Our bond… It cannot end this way! I won’t allow it!”

“Although our covenant has been broken…”

It was weird. It was your eyes that were flickering, battling between seeing Him and finally resting. But why is it that He feels like it was His world dimming?

“I’ll become one with the sea… and stay with you forever…” 

Those were the words He hears when He loses the galaxies He could get lost in for hours. When His beloved’s cold hands fall from His face, lifeless and still.

When everything fades, and returns to the sea.

Rafayel thinks that even up to this point, you’re still so selfish.

Why would you leave before you hear His wails and sobs? Why would you leave so peacefully before you could see the despairing god in front of you?

Why would you leave Him with nothing of you?

How could you leave Him, and turn Him into a Sea God that lost everything and had nothing?

[therinaes]

WAHHH I LOVED UR LITTLE RAFAYEL PIECE WHERE HE BANS MC FROM SHARP OBJECTS- the myth absolutely destroyed me (and clearly him as well) so im taking it as 100% canon. That man would have an absolute meltdown if mc ever got any kind of injury from something sharp, imagine if like she got sliced by a wanderer across the chest or something T_T it’d be like that day all over again. BUT ANYWAY I JUST LOVE ANGST AND I LOVE UR WRITING MWAH MWAH HEHE

thank youuu 🥹🫶 ily :<

[therinaes]

THE VEIL OH MY GOD RAFAYEL THE VEIL WE'RE KISSING UNDER THE VEIL

[therinaes]

this bit from our assigned reading tomorrow reminds me of rafayel :"D

[therinaes]

banned 🐚

in which rafayel regained his memories as the sea god after the events at the tome (ref. branch story — land of secret flames) and now freaks out at the sight of you handling sharp objects (iykyk)

tags: rafayel x reader, hint of angst, fluff, crack

wc: 0.4k

ri’s note: yes take this as my coping mechanism from that devastating myth (as a god of tides and fragrant dream truther i was ruined)

You knew your boyfriend Rafayel had a natural inclination to the dramatics, but it wasn’t this bad before.

Well, at least not until you two returned from the Tome of the Sea God. 

After his awakening, Rafayel would first be turned into a ferocious feline before he’d allow you to use — let alone touch — any sharp objects. 

It was so bad it even influenced how you do your missions with him now.

It started with him accompanying you one time on a trial. Now, it was no secret to your beloved that you are adept at wielding different types of weapons — guns, swords, polearms, claymores, or possibly even more. However…

“Cutie, please, have mercy on your poor boyfriend. I feel like I chugged down twenty cups of pure black coffee with ten shots of espresso each every time I see you holding that… that abomination!”

“Raf, it’s just a sword.”

“Exactly! It’s a sword!”

“It’s a weapon. Used for slaying wanderers. I’m a hunter.”

‘Yeah, guess who else it could slay.’ He frowns at his own thoughts.

“Darling, you can use other weapons, right?”

“Should I use a claymore then?”

He winces. “No, not that either!”

“Rafayel, really, what is happening?” 

“My dearest miss bodyguard, for the love of lemuria, for the love of the sea god, I beg you — please just use your guns during your mission instead of those crude, edged weapons.” He pleads. Despite the apparent whine, you could sense that his request is not a mere jest.

Why he is doing this, you do not know. But for the sake of his sanity and yours (he’s a handful when insisting on something), you comply.

Only when he’s with you on missions though. When he’s not… well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

—

“Cutie, why are you holding that?!”

He immediately sprints toward you from the doorway of his kitchen. He slightly slumps over the kitchen counter, beside you, as he gently pries the kitchen knife away from your hands.

“There. Perfect,” He says as he subtly squishes himself parallel to the cutting board, causing you to move to the side involuntarily. Chopping sounds then fill the kitchen.

You dramatically whoop your head to glare at him, who is now looking very pleased with what he has done.

“Rafayel, I’m cooking!”

“No sweetheart, I’m cooking.”

Yes.

Your lover also took over the kitchen upon returning from the tome.

Oh, you want to cook for him? Okay then, but let him do the cutting and chopping.

However, if you really do insist, he’s supervising you closely.

“Why are you acting like that? I won’t stab myself.” You quipped.

“Yeah, that’s what she said.” He grunts.

“What?”

“Hmm? I didn’t say anything. Must’ve been the wind.”

And so, with him around, you and sharp objects are practically a no-no combo. Especially with his own daggers. He’s really protective of them (you, actually). God forbid you wield his dagger again.  He might die if that happens again.

[therinaes]

hi boss can i be ur first anon u write so good 👉👈 i can be 🐚 anon if it isn't already taken hehe

hii thank uu 🥹 also sure hehe ^^

[therinaes]

banned 🐚

in which rafayel regained his memories as the sea god after the events at the tome (ref. branch story — land of secret flames) and now freaks out at the sight of you handling sharp objects (iykyk)

tags: rafayel x reader, hint of angst, fluff, crack

wc: 0.4k

ri’s note: yes take this as my coping mechanism from that devastating myth (as a god of tides and fragrant dream truther i was ruined)

You knew your boyfriend Rafayel had a natural inclination to the dramatics, but it wasn’t this bad before.

Well, at least not until you two returned from the Tome of the Sea God. 

After his awakening, Rafayel would first be turned into a ferocious feline before he’d allow you to use — let alone touch — any sharp objects. 

It was so bad it even influenced how you do your missions with him now.

It started with him accompanying you one time on a trial. Now, it was no secret to your beloved that you are adept at wielding different types of weapons — guns, swords, polearms, claymores, or possibly even more. However…

“Cutie, please, have mercy on your poor boyfriend. I feel like I chugged down twenty cups of pure black coffee with ten shots of espresso each every time I see you holding that… that abomination!”

“Raf, it’s just a sword.”

“Exactly! It’s a sword!”

“It’s a weapon. Used for slaying wanderers. I’m a hunter.”

‘Yeah, guess who else it could slay.’ He frowns at his own thoughts.

“Darling, you can use other weapons, right?”

“Should I use a claymore then?”

He winces. “No, not that either!”

“Rafayel, really, what is happening?” 

“My dearest miss bodyguard, for the love of lemuria, for the love of the sea god, I beg you — please just use your guns during your mission instead of those crude, edged weapons.” He pleads. Despite the apparent whine, you could sense that his request is not a mere jest.

Why he is doing this, you do not know. But for the sake of his sanity and yours (he’s a handful when insisting on something), you comply.

Only when he’s with you on missions though. When he’s not… well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

—

“Cutie, why are you holding that?!”

He immediately sprints toward you from the doorway of his kitchen. He slightly slumps over the kitchen counter, beside you, as he gently pries the kitchen knife away from your hands.

“There. Perfect,” He says as he subtly squishes himself parallel to the cutting board, causing you to move to the side involuntarily. Chopping sounds then fill the kitchen.

You dramatically whoop your head to glare at him, who is now looking very pleased with what he has done.

“Rafayel, I’m cooking!”

“No sweetheart, I’m cooking.”

Yes.

Your lover also took over the kitchen upon returning from the tome.

Oh, you want to cook for him? Okay then, but let him do the cutting and chopping.

However, if you really do insist, he’s supervising you closely.

“Why are you acting like that? I won’t stab myself.” You quipped.

“Yeah, that’s what she said.” He grunts.

“What?”

“Hmm? I didn’t say anything. Must’ve been the wind.”

And so, with him around, you and sharp objects are practically a no-no combo. Especially with his own daggers. He’s really protective of them (you, actually). God forbid you wield his dagger again.  He might die if that happens again.

[therinaes]

thinking about lemurian sea god rafayel — the man who can't be moved — who remained still at sea for hours after his beloved bride disappeared into fragments right in front of his eyes, by his very hands. the passing of time was barely noticeable, if not for the movements of the shadow casted by the sea god unto the sea.

rafayel who, even after 800 years, remains still.

still waiting for his beloved bride.

but at least now, he isn't waiting for someone who perished and became one with the sea to come back.

at least now, he is waiting for someone who lives and breathes life wherever she goes. for his beloved whose heart he knows finally beats for him again.