massive shoutout to my lovely friend @/ luchia_cos who was their Rafayel at the event (peek the picture where we got caught just before bursting into laughter at the fanservice)
and their friend who also came along as Aunt Talia ā”
Rafayel x MC, Slice of Life Pre-Established Relationship
You don't think you look particularly pretty or cute, no. You are not insecure, you just prefer to not think about it.
But once in a while a moment comes by, when you look in the mirror while getting ready in the morning, maybe a certain outfit, a certain way your hair looks that day makes you pause and think hm actually I do look kind of cute today.
It feels like a shame to let a moment like this pass so you take two pictures in the mirror, one with you looking at your phone screen with a teasing half smile, and another looking forward with a dazzling radiant smile that reaches all the way to your eyes.
And you send them to someone who you feel like won't judge you for this, and maybe will even appreciate it.. - Rafayel.
āFelt like I look kind of cute today.ā
āYou are welcomeā
You hit send without a second thought. Without waiting for a reply (he is probably still asleep anyway), you smile to yourself, feeling quite proud for whatever reason, tuck your phone away and go about your day to work.
If you are being honest, you kind of forgot all about it as the day rolls in. Being a hunter does require a lot of focus after all. You only get the chance to turn your phone back on at the end of your shift in the locker room, while you and Tara are changing out for the day.
The text messages roll in like a tsunami.
ā??!??!?!!???!!!ā
āCutie!!!!ā
ā??!!?;?!?;?ā
āDo you know what you just did?!ā
āDo you know what you have just done?!ā
āMiss bodyguard. What the hell.ā
āSince when do you modelā
āWhy do you do this to meā
āI was going to have such a productive morningā
āThis is a bit of an emergency.ā
āAnd yes you look very cute. You have no idea. I am wounded. Thank you for your kindness.ā
āCall. Me. When. You. Are. Off. Work.ā
You can't help but let a laugh escape you, a smile you can't control spreads across your face. You can practically see his frowning face. Hopefully it's a little flustered too.
Tara peers over and giggles. āSomeone has a crush~~ā
āoh shushā, you say, though you can feel your ears heat up despite yourself.
āoh you two are just so cute, right Simone? Come look at this!ā
āI ain't looking at that shit,ā Simone's voice travels from across the room, though you can both hear the laughter in her voice, āI don't need to be softened.ā
You laugh too, brushing it off. āIt's nice to think about, but it's not like that.ā
ā...yet?ā Tara wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
You slap her shoulder, and she lets out a bright giggle. āIf you say so!ā
It is just a nice thought. You look back down at the string of frantic messages and smile a little to yourself. But at the very least, you will probably see him soon.
Not the lost continent humans whisper about in half-remembered myths, but something older and deeper than you could ever imagine. A kingdom that doesnāt belong to your maps because it was never meant to be found by eyes that fear the dark.
Lemuria rests far beneath the reach of sunlight. Not empty, not silentā¦ no, itās alive in ways your world could never quite understand.
The āskyā of my childhood wasnāt blue. It shimmered. Layers of bioluminescent currents drifted overhead like slow-moving constellations, painting everything in hues that changed with the tides. Sometimes violet, sometimes goldā¦ sometimes a deep, quiet blue that felt like being wrapped in a secret.
That was my first sense of color.
You asked about the soil that made me. There isnāt soil the way you know it.
There are mineral beds. Dark, glimmering, and rich with heat from the planetās core. Coral forests that grow like ancient cities, their branches twisting into archways and halls. If you brush your fingers along them, they hum softly, like they remember every creature thatās ever passed through.
Thatās where I used to wander. I wasnāt exactlyā¦ obedient.
While others stayed within the safer currents, I would slip away into the deeper trenches, where the pressure tightens and the light thins into almost nothing. It didnāt scare me. If anything, it felt like home in its purest form.
Thereās a quiet down there that doesnāt exist on land. Not silence, never silence, but something heavier. Like the ocean itself is thinking. I liked to believe it was thinking about me.
My childhood wasnāt filled with laughter the way yours mightāve been.
Lemuria is beautiful, yes, but itās alsoā¦ demanding. Youāre expected to be strong and controlled. A current that doesnāt break its course.
I didnāt fit that, not entirely. I was drawn to shapes, to movement, to the way light fractured against scales and stone. While others trained, I traced patterns in the sand beds, or painted along coral surfaces using crushed minerals and glowing algae.
Unacceptable, some would say. But I couldnāt stop.
Thereās one place I havenāt told anyone about in a long time. A hollow beneath a collapsed coral ridge. Hidden, quietā¦ mine. The currents there were slow, almost still. Fine sediment would drift in soft clouds, catching faint light from a crack above. I used to sit there for hours, sketching with whatever I could find, my fingers, shards of shell, even my own scales when they shed.
Thatās where I learned to see. Not just whatās there, but what could be.
And the sea itselfā¦ You think of it as something vast and distant. To me, it was everything. A voice, a presence, something that pressed against your skin and filled your lungs and whispered, āBecome stronger or be swallowed.ā
I remember my first real storm current. Violent and unpredictable. It tore through the outer regions of Lemuria, ripping coral loose, dragging creatures into its pull.
I should have stayed away. You already know I didnāt. I swam straight into it.
Not because I was fearless, but because I needed to understand it. To feel it. To know what it meant to survive something that powerful.
I barely made it back. But when I didā¦ I wasnāt the same.
So when you say you want to know the place that made meā¦ Lemuria isnāt gentle, cutie.
Itās pressure and beauty intertwined. It shapes you whether youāre ready or not. It teaches you that survival isnāt enough. You have to adapt, or you disappear into the dark like you were never there at all.
And me? ā¦I chose not to disappear.
If you listen carefully, I could show you more, like the way the currents sing at night, the hidden paths no one else knows, and the parts of Lemuria I never let anyone see.
But only if you stay. I donāt tell these stories to just anyone.
