#TIPPING THE LAD AGGRESSIVELY

[mrpuzzle]

GIVE ME ORANGE JUICE PLEASE 🗣️‼️‼️

Originally wasn't gonna post this here but I rly like how it came out!! This was made for smthn on Twt

Mortis as a bartender :3c

[shalscumbunny]

Warnings: Non-con, dub-con, female reader, vaginal sex

His eyes are shining with happiness, his body is shaking and trembling, yet…

He's happy~

The tip of his cock hit exactly where it should and for the first time… you came on his cock.

That means… you like it? You like what you are doing! You're enjoying it even as you tearfully beg for him to stop!

He took your tearful face in his hands, caressing your cheeks sweetly with the tips of his fingers.

He's just desperate for your love, needy for your acceptance and now that he's deeply inserted inside you while your teary eyes are clouded with pleasure, he can't help but feel like he's in heaven… you're his heaven, his glory, his everything.

"You look… so beautiful when you cum…" He gasps, kissing your cheeks softly and wetly.

You whimper when he lets go of your face and his fingers aggressively dig into your hips.

It was really just a matter of seconds before he resumed his thrusts on that sweet, rubbery spot making you see stars.

"I love you… fuck… I love you so much" He whimpers, nibbling on your earlobe "You don't need anyone else, I promise you'll only need me… I'll make you feel so good…!"

HxH: KURAPIKA, Shalnark

LADS: Caleb

BNHA: Shigaraki Tomura

Genshin Impact: Xiao, Tartaglia, Ororom

Naruto: OBITO UCHIHA, Nagato

SNK: Porco Galliard, Zeke Jaeger

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Training (Part 1)

I've been really getting into Love and Deep space lately (Sylus, Caleb and Xavier are my faves) and I had stumbled on an erotic audio where someone was training their throat by using a dildo and then my brain worked it's magic from there to spawn this mini-series idea hehe. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer : Lads boys X Female reader; Poly relationship; Established relationship; Smut <3 throat training; Oral (Reader receiving); Hot men babying reader <3

~~~~~

"Good girl, there we go. Just breath and take it...take it..."

TapTapTap

Sylus loosened his grip on the back of your head, smirking as you pulled away, tears in your eyes as you started to cough. His long fingers scratched your scalp, relaxing you and making your body tingle in response. You whimpered, wiping away the drool from your mouth, your jaw feeling a bit sore already and you barely started.

"Deep breaths, kitten. You did so well that time." Sylus purred, "You want to try again?"

You gulped before nodding, regaining your balance on your knees again. You placed your hands on the wall, eyebrows furrowed as you glared at the object stuck to said wall- the object you needed to conquer.

A 7 inch dildo.

"Open wide, kitty." Sylus said, standing behind you once more, the warmth of his legs on either side of you making you purr. You sat on the floor, legs folded underneath you, wearing nothing but a camisole and some comfy shorts. His hands gently went down to your jaw, his thumb caressing your cheek as you opened your mouth wide before moving forward. You groaned as you took the dildo back into your mouth, your tongue lying flat underneath it as you slowly took inch after inch, Sylus's hands gently pushing you along as well.

"Slowly...that's it. You've gotten so much better, sweetie. Think you can deep throat it?"

You didn't respond, simple squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you felt the silicone toy touch the back of your throat. Breathing through your nose and trying to remember all the...tips your boyfriends had given you, you opened up your throat and got the dildo to slide in. Your nails dug into the wall as you fought your natural instinct to gag, taking inch after inch but unfortunately-

TapTapTap

You slapped on the wall, signaling Sylus to let go of your hair as you pulled off of the dildo, coughing wildly as drool seeped past your lips.

"So close." Sylus said, patting your head from above you, "You only had one inch to go. You wanna try again?"

You took a breath, collecting yourself as you wiped the mess off of your face, "Yeah, just...give me a sec."

"Take all the time you need."

You almost started to moan as Sylus rubbed your scalp, his nails gently massaging your head making you shiver. You were brought out of the moment as you heard a pair of footsteps coming closer towards you.

"How's the training going?" Caleb asked, looking down at you and smiling, hands in his pockets.

"Good." Sylus said, giving your head a final pat before pulling away, "She's definitely improving. If you compare her to how she was when we first started this, she's miles ahead. She almost deep throated the whole thing."

"Mind if I take over?" Caleb asked.

"Be my guest."

You tried not to whine as Sylus stepped away from you but your disappointment was short lived as Caleb took his place. You craned your neck to look up at him, the man giggling as you made eye contact. Sylus stood to the side, leaning on the wall as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching.

"I think you can get that whole dildo down your throat, pipsqueak." Caleb said, bringing a hand down to pinch your cheek, "So I'm gonna be a bit rough on you and make you take it. Is that okay?"

You wrapped your hand around Caleb's right leg, squeezing his calf as you leaned into him, snuggling your face against his soft thigh. Your man giggled at the ticklish feeling, his fingers clenching and unclenching close to your face which you have since learnt was the sign of him fighting his cute aggression- the man fighting his desire to just grab you and squeeeeze tightly.

"Okay." you said, pulling away from him before straightening your back, "I'm ready."

"Let's take it all this time."

With a nod, you got back into position, palms against the wall before you opened your mouth wide and took in the toy. Inch by inch slid into your mouth, making sure to keep your tongue flat. You had gotten fairly used to this part, the real problem coming when the tip of the dildo started to slide down the back of your throat.

As soon as you felt your first gag, you gasped as Caleb suddenly increased the pressure and continued to push you forward. But it didn't feel like it was his hands and when you looked up, you saw that the man had in fact placed both hands against the wall too- almost like he was balancing which meant:

The fucker was pushing your head forward with his knee!

"Take it. Take it. Come on. You can do it." Caleb growled, kneeing the back of your head while firmly pushing you forward. Unlike Sylus using his hands, you felt zero give against Caleb and had no choice but to go along. You continued to gag, eyes watering as the dildo slid down your throat more and more, until finally- finally- you felt the cold sensation of the wall against your lips.

You did it! You finally did it! You took down the whole dildo!!

"Good girl! There we go~" Caleb cheered as he took his leg away, allowing you to pull off of the fake cock. You heaved and gasped, taking in air and coughing, your lungs aching from the many attempts so far. You looked up and glared at Caleb, the man simply snorting as he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. He squatted down beside you, immediately starting to clean up your drool with his hanky.

"Don't look at me like that." he whined fakely, his free hand holding your head still from behind as he wiped up your mouth, "You did it, didn't you?"

"That she did." Sylus said proudly, his hand shamelessly wrapping around the saliva covered toy before pulling it off of the wall from where it was suctioned on, "Let's stop here and I'll clean this up. I'd like to use it again later."

You jumped at the 'later' statement, knowing full well what that meant.

"Alright, come here." Caleb said as Sylus walked away, the man looping his arm around your back and under your knees before he picked you up in a princess carry, carrying you like you weighed nothing to him. With a kiss to your head, he started to walk towards the others lounging at the couch. Oh yeah. You were in the living room of your apartment, your boyfriends having come over. How could you forget.

Xavier smiled from one end of the couch, his arms reaching out for you. Caleb gently dropped you down onto the white haired mans lap, Xavier wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your temple.

"Good job, honey." he cooed, nuzzling against your hair, "We were watching. You did so well!"

"Yeah," Raphael chimed in, scooting closer to Xavier on the couch so he could gently grab at your feet, immediately giving it a massage, "Remember at the beginning when you could barely take half of it? Look at you now."

"She's definitely getting better. Soon, you'll be ready to suck us off~" Caleb purred, ruffling your hair before he sat down on a separate love seat.

You huffed, preening under all the attention, "I still think this whole...training thing is dumb." you said, voice hoarse.

"Clearly it wasn't since it took you almost two weeks to even handle the toy." the fifth- and final- voice called out and you turned your head to see Zayne walking towards the group, a glass of water in hand. He bent down once he was close enough, gripping your chin gently before pulling at it. You opened your mouth obediently, Zayne's eyes scanning for a few seconds before nodding and letting go.

"Looks like you didn't hurt your throat this time. Good. Now drink up."

He pressed the glass of water against your lips but you pulled away with a pout.

"I can drink it by myself."

"I know." Was all Zayne said before his free hand cupped your jaw gently before once again pressing the glass to your lips. You huffed but ultimately remained silent as the Doctor tipped the glass, pouring the water into your mouth. Everyone watched as you drank the, Xavier planting sweet kisses to your temple while Zayne hummed once you finished. He wiped away a stray drop of water from your lips before walking back to the kitchen, passing by Sylus who was empty handed (for now). He smiled at you as he got behind you, bending down to loosely wrapping his arms around your shoulders before peppering your cheek with kisses. With Xavier on one side and Sylus on the other, you felt the blood rush to your face, making you feel dizzy from all the affection.

"You did so good, baby girl." Sylus purred, nibbling on your ear gently as you simply mumbled under your breath shyly, "Let's have you deep throat it a few more times before we move on, yeah?"

"Wh- but-" you whined, turning your head to look at the red eyed man, "I thought that was it! I don't need to practice anymore!"

"Do it consistently without hurting yourself," Zayne chimed in, having walked back to the living room, standing beside Sylus as he crossed his arms over his chest, "Then we can consider if you're ready to suck our cocks."

You whined, rolling your eyes in annoyance but you yelped as Raphael pinched your calf muscle. "Don't be bratty." he warned, making you pout.

"But I can handle it! I want to make you all feel good..."

"We know, pipsqueak and that's very sweet of you." Caleb said, his eyes never having left you, "But we're all bigger than that dildo. If you can't even suck the toy without crying, you're just going to get frustrated or hurt yourself when you take us."

"Besides, we don't mind waiting." Xavier said, his voice so gentle, warm breath fanning against your ear, "Your comfort matters more to us than pleasure."

"But..."

"Don't argue." Sylus demanded, making your words die in your throat, Rafayel snorted at your adorable pout, his hand traveling up your legs, his warm touch making you shiver. You pressed your thighs together, Raphael almost reaching them and your movement wasn't lost on anyone. From deepthroating the cock to being babied by them, it wasn't rocket science to figure out that you were needy.

"Aww, how silly of us." Xavier cooed, a hand coming up to your top and teasingly grabbing one of the thin straps before he started to gently pull it down one shoulder, "You've been such a good girl and we totally forgot to give you a reward."

"She does deserve something nice for following her training..." Caleb trailed off, his eyes dilating as he saw the cute flush on your face, gasping as Xavier started to kiss your exposed shoulder. But the contact was soon gone as Raphael grabbed you by the hips harshly before pulling, making you yelp as your position was changed. Your body slid down, your back now resting on Xavier's lap and your head leaning against the soft armrest, the sudden change making your top ruck up a bit and expose your tummy.

"Be gentle with her." Sylus scolded as you were suddenly slid out of his embrace.

"She can handle it." Raphael said with a roll of his eyes, "She's not made of glass."

"Thank you!" you said, "Finally, someone gets it."

"I'm always on your side, cutie." Raphael said, giving you a wink before hie smile turned more hungry, his fingers digging into the waistband of your shorts, "Now lets get these off of you, hmm? I need to taste you~"

You raised your hips with no protest, humming as Xavier started to pet your head, the man seemingly content with having you on his lap despite his usual jealous tendencies. But, as you expected, the others weren't as calm.

"Hey, you got to eat her out last time! It's my turn!" Caleb protested, shooting up from his seat before he grabbed Raphael by the back of his shirt and pulling him off of you and forcing him to stand. The artist hissed like a cat, batting away Caleb's hand.

"If anyone should do it, it's me." Sylus interjected, also standing upright, arms crossing over his chest, "I spent all that time training her today. I say I deserve a treat too."

"You already called dibs on stretching her out with the dildo." Raphael reminded, looking comically short compared to the other two but that did not deter him as he stood his ground, leaving you on the couch, needy. You looked over at the three arguing men, rolling your eyes at their theatrics.

"And?"

"And?" Raphael repeated like it was obvious, "You can't be greedy. That was the rule, remember?"

"Exactly, so I should be the one to eat her pussy this time." Caleb said but was immediately glared at by the other two.

"...Rock, Paper, Scissors." Raphael said, bringing his clenched hand up.

"I'm not playing a game over my right to eat out my girlfriend." Sylus proclaimed with a scoff.

"Fine, then you're disqualified." Raphel said with a flick of the wrist, dismissing Sylus, "Caleb?"

"You're on!"

"Now- hang on a second."

"Oh, so you're joining? Fine then. On three. Rock...Paper...Scissors!"

"Fuck- no wait- best of three!"

"Don't be a sore loser, Caleb. I thought you'd be used to losing by now."

"I'll show you who's a sore loser, crow boy."

"Ouch. I think that was more embarrassing for you than it was for me."

They competition was cut short as a shrill moan echoed through the room. Everyone's eyes snapped over to you only to find Zayne between your legs, the man dragging his tongue greedily from your dripping hole up to your cute clit, your shorts and panties discarded on the floor.

"Hey!" They all protested over each other, but Zayne simply shot them an icy cold glare, giving your clit a kiss before pulling away to say:

"Next time, focus more on her than each other."

Xavier couldn't help but snort, having changed positions so he was now leaning against the armrest of the couch with you sitting comfortably between his spread legs, your back in contact with his front. The position gave him a lot more freedom, especially when it came to pulling your top up so he could grope at your pretty tits~

The other three cursed under their breath but soon calmed down, their attention diverted at the pretty sight of you practically naked on the couch, being devoured by your lovers. Your face was flushed, eyebrows furrowed as your reached a hand down to thread it through Zayne's black locks, gripping onto it tightly as he ate you out.

You tossed your head back against Xavier's shoulder, your man kissing your neck as your body trembled from the pleasure. Zayne was a tease- not because he wanted to torture you- but simply because he liked to take his time. He took slow, deliberate licks of your pussy, his eyes glazed over like he was enjoying a delicious treat. His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs and he made sure to keep your legs spread for him, his hot, wet tongue running up and down your slit, glasses getting a bit fogged up from the heat emanating from you. He groaned, drinking you down as he sealed his lips over your cunt and started to kiss her, lips and tongue working in tandem to make out with your pussy.

You mewled as the slobbering sound of Zayne devouring your kitty echoed through the air, your hips bucking into his mouth. You could barely focus though as Xavier ran his fingers teasingly over your nipples, his index finger drawing slow circles over your hard bud. Unlike Zayne who took things slow as he enjoyed it, Xavier took things slow to wind you up and make you cry-

A sadistic side to him that you never expected to exist.

"You're so cute, you know that?" he asked as he flicked a nipple, smiling at the way you whimpered, "My sweet honey~"

"She really is adorable like this." Raphael agreed, taking a seat beside you on the large couch that you specifically bought to accommodate multiple people, "I just want to paint your blushing face on a huge canvas, cutie."

"I'd definitely buy that." Syulus purred, standing beside Xavier as his hand gently cupped your face, "And hang it up in my bedroom so I can wake up to your slutty expression every day."

You were about to protest- say anything at all but Sylus quickly silenced you as he bent down and kissed you. You gasped against his lips, Sylus kissing you so sweetly it made your heart feel warm and your pussy gush around Zayne's face. He slipped his tongue into your mouth easily, thumb caressing your cheek even as he aggressively made out with you.

You jumped as you felt a warmth on your nipple, the familiar sensation of a bud being enveloped by something hot and wet. You didn't even need to look to know that Raphael was suckling on a nipple, the feeling of his mouth on your sensitive bud far too familiar at this point. You felt his groan against you, suckling on you like he was trying to milk you. His lips clamped around the fat of your breast, his teeth threatening to bite down as he sucked, each gulp making your toes curl. You barely processed the hardness pressing against your bare ass, Xavier letting out little grunts behind you as you unknowingly ground against him as you wiggled around from the various sensations.

You took a deep breath as Sylus eventually pulled away, a string of saliva breaking apart between your lips only for the man to gently shove two fingers inside your mouth. You looked up at him, eyes teary from the over stimulation but you were only met with dark eyes and an even darker smile, Sylus clearly loving this look on you. You sucked on his fingers obediently, his long digits gripping your tongue and exploring your mouth like it was a casual activity and the nonchalant attitude only made your pussy gush even more.

"How does she taste?" Caleb asked, having walked to the back of the couch, leaning over with his arms crossed and resting on the back as he greedily took in the sight of Zayne devouring your pussy.

"Mmph. Divine." was all the doctor said before he dove back in, making your shriek around Sylus's fingers as Zayne gently stuck his own finger inside you. It slid in easily thanks to how wet you were but you whined as it wasn't enough. You needed more. More. More!

"Let me play with her clit, come on." Caleb said and much to his enjoyment, Zayne seemed to comply. Their agreed upon rule of 'don't be greedy' was in full effect as Zayne pulled away but not before giving your pussy a deep kiss. You were grateful that your view was blocked by Sylus as you knew Zaynes face must be wet with your juices and it would be too embarrassing to see that.

Sylus bent down and kissed you again, not giving you a second to breathe which was just according to plan. Xavier grunted behind you as you body jolted from the feeling of someones rough finger swiping at your poor, sensitive clit, accidentally grinding more on Xavier's clothed erection. Caleb hummed happily as he simply reached a hand down to casually roll your clit around while Zayne slid another finger inside of you. Raphael increased the force of his suckling, the man still nursing on the same nipple while your other breast was in Xavier's hand, being pinched and pulled at mercilessly.

This was too much and yet not enough at the same time- it was killing you.

"Mmph- gonna- hah- gurk!" you gagged as Sylus pulled away just to shove his middle and ring finger back into your mouth, this time really pushing it deep and making you gag. He laughed in your face, loving that shade of red on you as he started to gently thrust his fingers in and out of your mouth in the same pace Zayne was doing to your pussy.

"She's close, boys." Sylus said, knowing what you wanted to say but everyone could tell even without you trying to announce it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Zayne curled his fingers inside you, digging around for that spongy spot that they all just loved to bully. Caleb licked his lips as he moved his fingers faster, starting to rub your clit vigorously, droplets of your slick flying all over the place and making a mess.

Zayne bit his lower lip as he found your g-spot with ease, the matching cry you let out from the impact almost making him cum in his pants. He hissed at the borderline painful erection in his pants- all the other men sporting the same bulge. Was it difficult to not whip their cocks out and use your body the way you clearly wanted them to? Yes. Absolutely. Probably the hardest (no pun intended) challenge they've ever faced in their lives.

But you were an inexperienced little thing. Their sweet, adorably baby doll and they knew that if they jumped into acts of passion where you had to deal with five men at once, they might hurt you or you might push yourself and your body to the extreme. And so they were training you until one day, one glorious day, you can comfortably handle them.

But having you whimpering, whining and so eager for them always made them second guess their decision.

"Cum for us, pipsqueak." Caleb said, hand almost a blur with his fast he was swiping over your clit repeatedly, "you've earned it."

"Such a good girl. Our good girl." Xavier panted behind you, taking a gentle nibble of your ear as his hands traced down your curved before settling at your hips, gripping down on you tightly as he started to ground his own hips against you more incessantly, "Fuck- I think i'm going to cum too..."

"So easily? Don't tell me you're a two pump chump, Xavier." Raphel teased, finally pulling away from your nipple. Your poor boob was suckled raw, your bud peeking out swollen and covered with his saliva.

"You've been touching yourself while you sucked on her tits. You're probably going to cum before I do." Xavier snapped back and you couldn't help but snicker as Raphael froze, hand on his crotch from where he was groping himself, a look in his eyes like he was caught trying to steal a cookie from the jar.

"...Shut up." the artist bit back before he sealed his lips around your nipple again. Sylus laughed at their mini argument, deciding that he'd rather everyone enjoy your moans as he gently pulled his spit covered fingers out of your mouth. You looked up at him, a sight you were getting fairly familiar with and your eyes travelled lower, down to his erection practically fighting against the front of his pants.

"Down girl." Sylus teased as you stared at his hardness, bringing a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe at his hand, "Focus on your own body."

"...I-It looked at me first." you quipped, unable to hold back your own huff of amusement at Sylus's laughter. But your huff quickly turned into a gasp as your body started to rush towards its peak. Zayne's finger's inside you- Caleb vigorously stimulating your clit- Raphael sucking on your breasts- Xavier humping you from behind- Sylus looking down at you like you were a treat he's waiting to devour-

"Cumming- ah- ah-- fuck- cumming!" You squealed, body trembling as you were pushed over the edge. You pleasure crashed into you violently, your legs shaking and thighs automatically pressing together but Caleb and Zayne worked in tandem to hold your knees apart.

"Don't fight it, pipsqueak~ Ride it out, baby."

"You deserve it, love. Such a good girl."

Your cunt squirted around their fingers, everyone cooing at you as you climaxed. Back arching, Raphel continued to mouth at your tit, only pulling back a bit so he could see your pleasure filled expression.

You sobbed as Xavier tightened his hold around you, tempering down your wiggling as he gasped behind you, his own whimpers only audible to you as he moaned against your ear softly. He jerked, biting your neck and taking in deep breaths of your scent before he gradually settled down. He must have cum as well if the slight dampness you felt under your butt was any indication.

You whined as you came down from your high, body relaxing and muscles releasing their tension. You mumbled protest as Zayne and Caleb continued to grind their hands against your cunt but they took mercy on you and pulled away gently. You felt your face get warmer at the state of their fingers, their skin pruned from how wet you were- Zayne's hand practically drenched.

But that didn't stop him from taking a long lick of his fingers, maintaining eye contact with you as he did.

Fuck- that made your pussy clench with desire.

If only they would shove those fat, aching cocks of their inside you but-

You almost started to purr as Sylus ran a hand through your hair before he started to pet you, fingers firm yet gentle on your scalp. His other hand was on his hip, a sassy pose that was a sharp contrast to how he was looking at you.

"Good job, sweetie. You okay?"

You nodded, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. But as usual, you looked around and save for Xavier and Raphael (who was doing a poor job of covering up his soiled pants) everyone was turned on and clearly desperate for something but-

"Let's get you some water." Caleb offered, straightening up before walking to the kitchen. "B-But you guys are..." you trailed off, reaching your hand out to the brunette. Caleb smiled before taking your hand in his and kissing your fingers, even nibbling on one gently, "Don't worry about us. We'll take care of it."

"But-"

"No buts." Zayne said sternly, "We need to get you cleaned up. After all of your 'training' today, I say you've earned a break."

You pouted but Sylus pinched your cheek, "The more you practice, the faster we'll be able to take things to the next stage, sweetheart. Just be patient."

"...Okay."

Xavier sighed behind you, chin propped up on your shoulder, "...I need a shower."

"Same here." Raphael said, sounding bashful as he snuggled between your tits, "How about we shower together, cutie?"

"You talking to me?" Xavier asked and Raphel clicked his tongue in irritation, making you giggle.

"A bath does sound good." you agreed, knowing full well your bathroom was big enough to accommodate everyone if need be.

"Then the three of you wash up," Sylus said as Caleb walked back with the glass of water (and just like Zayne, he insisted on feeding it to you himself) "And once you're finished- if you're up for it, of course- we can try our...other training."

Everyone jumped at that, looking at you expectedly. You gulped down the last of the water, Caleb tickling you under the chin before you nodded:

"Sounds like a plan."

~~~~~

[veebeeboo109]

[Read on AO3]

Continuation of Cleaning up the Timeline

[10.6k words - Poly!Lads x Reader: Rafayel is acting weird, and why does everyone seem to know what's going on except for you?]

Tags: Scenting, BREED!NG, Heat, Merman!Rafayel, Polycule Love and Deepspace MxM and FxM.

Ebb Day

“You smell .” Rafayel hisses when you return home on early spring evening. You’re surprised to see him lounging on the couch, and more surprised still when he jumps up and approaches you.

“I was running around all day.” You defend with a sigh. It wasn’t a particularly hard day, but the nature of your job was a physical one; you would think Rafayel would be used to it by now. “I just walked in, geez. ”

Xavier steps close behind you and audibly sniffs, “You don’t stink to me.”

You laugh at his gentle tone and wave him away, “Thank you, Xavier, but clearly I’ve offended Rafayel’s sensitive nose.”

You speak teasingly, but the scowl on Rafayel’s face doesn’t falter. It’s an odd day when your resident sea god isn’t tucked away in his studio when you get home, and even more bizarre when he doesn’t entertain banter.

His comment on your scent leads to him stripping you before you’ve even entered your bedroom and crowding you into the shower. It must be serious when he forgoes the bath. In another odd turn, Rafayel picks through the lineup of body wash you’ve collected, sniffing each one and scowling until he finds one he can tolerate. 

Rafayel scrubs at your skin with a fluffy pink luffa, and the determination in his eyes confuses you. He looks at you like you’ve betrayed him somehow, and so you grab his hand before he can continue his chafing. “What’s the matter? Did something happen?”

Rafayel’s eyes widen at your audacity to grab him. When he looks up at you, there’s an eerie blue tinge to his usual alexandrite eyes. Your heart twists in both fear and anticipation. 

“You stink.” He says curtly, twisting his wrist to detach your hand. You’re aware of Rafayel’s power, on a surface level, and the danger could pose to you, but you always forget what being at the receiving end of his ire feels like.

You’re a mackerel in a swarm, swimming wildly as the shark cuts through the water. You’re neither faster nor stronger than he is. You’re hardly a proper meal to chomp between his teeth.

There is less than one second where you realize something’s definitely not right before your cheek smacks against the tile wall. The icy cold sending shocks down your spine, contrasting against the scalding water. 

Steam has coated the glass walls of the shower, creating the illusion of being hidden. A sense of privacy that you know doesn’t truly exist in a house such as yours. Rafayel never really minds it. He, like a few of the others, enjoys the idea of the others hearing you. 

Though, today seems different. There’s an unhinged edge to your lover’s eyes, something has come loose inside him and it leaves him in shambles. Jaw open and panting as he pushes your shoulders into the wall but draws your hips back. 

With one hand, he grabs a fistful of your behind. Squeezing your flesh and looking drunk while he does, like the malleability is this new, novel, enchanting thing. 

“How dare you…” Rafayel’s voice is a growl– a deep, predatory sound. “How dare you…come here…like this…”

“What are talk–” Your words are cut off as Rafayel moves his hand and presses the tip of his thumb to your folds. The breath inside you falters, and escapes as a stuttering gasp. 

“It’s too hot.” He huffs and with the hand not teasing you, he reaches over to the shower controls and twists it to cold. It takes a moment for the spray to catch up, and when it does you squeal. 

The icy cold water is a shock to your system, and reflexively you wiggle away from it, pushing closer to the wall. “ Ah ! What’s wrong with you!? Turn it back!”

“Don’t run from me.” Rafayel croaks, sounding much less aggressive than before and much more desperate. The growl in his voice has turned to a whine.

You turn, too concerned now to entertain Rafayel’s seduction. Grabbing the siren by the sides of his face, you hold him still, letting the water cascade over his back. 

“Are you sick?” You ask gently, tilting his face from side to side.

He doesn’t look flush, at least, no more than usual. There’s a pink tinge to his cheekbones and the tips of his ears, but you could write that off from his arousal– which is currently resting against your hip and tapping you in time with the beat of his fast-paced heart. 

His eyes search your face and then drag down. Down the line of your neck and collarbone, sweeping across your chest and back up again. Lazy and unfocused like he can’t help himself.

“Rafayel,” You say when he doesn’t reply. Shaking him slightly, you try again, “Rafayel what’s going on?”

Rafayel blinks slowly and then squeezes his eyes closed tight. He grabs your upper arms like he might slip right down the drain if he doesn’t. “It’s nothing. It’s…I’m fine.”

You’re not convinced, and continue to hold him. The temperature in the shower is making you shiver, but you’re not going to be the first to let go. If something is wrong– and there clearly is– you won’t let him suffer alone. 

“Are you feverish?” You ask a little quieter. Nearly whispering. 

Rafayel’s shoulder jerk, and his head lifts suddenly. Snapping back to himself, he takes a quick breath and turns the shower off completely, “The water’s freezing. Let’s get you dry.”

The diversion makes you frown, but you follow him out of the shower anyway. The rosy tint to his cheeks remains, and somehow gets worse when he grabs a towel and begins to pat you dry. 

“I’m not letting this go,” You say firmly, grabbing the towel from his hands and wrapping it around yourself. 

“Ehh…” Rafayel makes a whiny, petulant sound, “Can’t you? It’s fine. I promise.”

You frown pointedly at him. It’s not like him to be so secretive. Usually, if something is bothering him, he’s chatting your ear off about it. Rafayel is guarded with most people, viciously so, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. Have you lost his trust somehow?

You get dressed and mull over this for a moment. Rafayel kisses your cheek and then your temple. He inhales deeply, like he’s trying to press your scent as far as it can go in his mind. Although that would normally amuse you, you’re only more perturbed. 

Rafayel retreats to his studio, mumbling to himself. While you head back downstairs, frustrated and confused. 

Things only get weirder from there. 

Rafayel’s already keen senses seem to be even sharper. He refuses to let anyone sleep in the bed unless they’ve bathed with scentless soap. 

Your room has somehow become his room, and your bed has become his bed. A safe spot that you have to have permission to enter. Rafayel refuses to entertain sass, and physically kicks Sylus out of the bed one night when the dragon teases a little too hard about him being needy. 

Zayne hardly gets a moment to himself, the poor guy. The cool aura the doctor exudes has Rafayel glued to his side. At night, you’re sandwiched between them, shivering despite being surrounded from tip to toe. One afternoon, after another day of hunting, you arrive to find Zayne on the couch with Rafayel in his lap. The artist has his arms beneath Zayne’s shirt, pressing as much flesh against him as possible. 

Finally someone acknowledges that something is wrong, but it comes in the form of a plane ticket and an already-packed suitcase being handed to you. 

Rafayel is buzzing about the house, prepping for this impromptu (but not-so impromptu) trip to your isolated beach house. He fusses over Caleb’s choice of traveling clothes, and the fact the pilot is only bringing a single duffle bag. 

Xavier follows the two of them around, mediating between the slightly neurotic artist and the too-casual pilot. Xavier’s suitcases sit beside yours in the entryway, and he’s been spending the better part of an hour trying to coax the two towards the door. 

Sylus coordinated the driving service and the airport for your flight (because all six of you won’t fit in the cars you currently have), grumbling on his phone about keeping things discreet. He’s got Mephisto on his free arm, typing what looks like some instructions to Luke and Kieran about an upcoming job. Always busy, that one.

This leaves you and Zayne waiting near the front door. Everyone else seems to be on board, and you’re beginning to wonder if they held a family meeting without you. Not that you’re complaining about having a week off, but this doesn’t feel like a vacation for some reason. 

Xavier is finally able to get the two bickering parties out the door, and the poor prince is exhausted. He falls asleep on the way to the airport and thankfully misses Rafayel’s hissy fit about the temperature inside the vehicle.

Sylus leaves the driver a heavy tip. 

Surprising to no one except you, Caleb is going to be flying the luxe private plane Sylus has procured. He puts on his fancy aviators and enters the aircraft first, meeting the other few members of crew that had been hired. 

Rafayel pulls you onto the plane and into a seat next to him near the back. Silently, he buckles you in and then begins to fidget with the air vents. He’s so on edge you can almost feel it radiate off of him, and you’re close to smacking him upside the head and demanding answers. 

You feel the plane whir to life beneath you. The intercom overhead statics before Caleb’s voice comes through, slightly muffled, “Lady and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Looks like we’ve got good weather on our trip. We’ll arrive at our destination at about 0800 hours local time.”

The plane begins to move, rolling slowly from the tarmac where you boarded to the runway. 

Caleb’s distorted laugh continues, “Probably a bad time to mention I haven’t flown a passenger aircraft since I was in flight school–”

A tight unamused silence falls. 

“ – anyway! Sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight.”

Sylus finishes off his glass of wine in one swig. “Hold tight.”

“If he pulls a barrel roll, I’ll kill him.” Zayne grumbles, not even looking up from the shopping catalog he snatched in the airport. 

Thankfully, Caleb doesn’t pull a barrel roll. Despite not having flown a passenger craft in a while, you weren’t able to tell at all. 

The last time you were here, you’d been hopped up on painkillers and surrounded by men so worried that your keel over from a harsh breeze you could barely enjoy it. You still had a wonderful time, but you were ready to experience your beach hideaway to the fullest this time. 

Only, you’re more worried about Rafayel to enjoy the scenery right now. It’s late when you arrive, and Rafayel insists on a bath. He pushes past the rest of you to shamble inside, and you’re dragging your suitcase so fast behind you it clacks against the sidewalk. 

You abandon the suitcase at the door and follow him, “Rafayel!”

He doesn’t turn, climbing the stairs and shoving open the hall bathroom. You hadn’t seen the upstairs on your last visit, and you're surprised by the large window that overlooks the ocean. The free-standing white tub sits just in front of it.

Rafayel turns on the cold tap and starts to fill the tub, stripping off his shirt without looking back at you. 

You grab his arm before he can take off his pants, “Rafayel, what’s– oh god, you’re burning up!”

Before he can even reply, you’re reaching out to place your hand against his forehead and then his neck. The heat coming off his skin is sweltering– searing like the flames of his evol. 

“I’ll get you some medicine or something.” You say, hating the way his eyes seem unfocused. There’s a pink blush spreading across his face, down to his neck and to his chest. You don’t want to leave him, but the desire to help was too strong. 

You hear the splash of water as you escape the bathroom, and nearly stumble down the stairs in your rush. 

“Zayne!” You call, and find him with your suitcase in his hand, bringing it to your bedroom. You scurry past a concerned looking Caleb to approach your doctor, “Do you have something for fever? Rafayel is sick.”

Zayne’s brow furrows, “Sick?”

“Kitten…” Sylus drawls, coming up to nearly press into your back. He too is rather warm, but even the heat from a dragon’s form pales in comparison to the fever you’d just felt coming off of Rafayel. “He’s not sick.”

You whirl to give Sylus a sharp, unamused glare– while Zayne roots through his carry-on bag for some medicine. Scowling at the amusement on the dragon's face, you poke him in the sternum harshly, “He’s burning up, and he could hardly keep eye contact. He’s clearly ill.”

“Here.” Zayne offers you a white pill bottle. An over-the-counter pain reliever, “I’m not sure if it will help with his different physiology, but it’s what I have. Though, is a fever not to be expected?”

Sylus chuckles like they’re all in on a secret, and you’re close to fuming. Xavier comes up and places a gentle hand to your back, giving both Zayne and Sylus a stern look, “Don’t be cruel. You know she wasn’t told anything about this.”

“Told about what!?” You screech, throwing your hands up and rattling the pills inside the bottle. “Somebody better start talking or I’m gonna start throwing hands, I swear to god.”

Zayne exchanges a look with the others, a silent exchange that looks too much like should we? Another scathing remark burns at the tip of your tongue, ready to kick these too-tall men into shape if they keep playing coy with information. If something’s wrong with Rafayel, then why can’t you know about it?

However,  your snark disappears as Caleb comes shambling down the stairs, looking a little wide-eyed and startled. “Uh, pips? Rafayel wants you.”

You turn and find that Caleb’s clothes are both wet in places and scorched in others. He brushes through his hair and sighs, like he barely escaped with his life. 

“What the hell happened to you?” You ask.

Caleb laughs sheepishly and shrugs, “He doesn’t want me, clearly . Told me he’d turn me into an apple fritter if I bothered him again.”

You huff, and turn to the others. “I’m going to take care of Rafayel.” Your voice is firm and leaves no room for argument, “And when I come back down, I expect some answers.”

You take the steps two at a time back up stairs, leaving the rest of your lovers in various states of amusement and discontent.

“Anyone care to fill me in?” Caleb asks as he pats down the side of his shirt that caught a little too close to Rafayel’s flames. The attack from the sea god hadn't been aimed to kill, just to scare. A wide spread of fire to disperse the unwanted intrusion. 

“She won’t be coming downstairs for a while.” Sylus replies, shifting on his feet and crossing his arms. “Our resident fish is experiencing his special time.”

Xavier scowls at the fiend, “We were sworn to secrecy on the matter. Where is your loyalty?”

“It was Rafayel’s idea to come here,” Zayne says matter-of-factly. “If it were to remain a secret, why not hide away for a week like he always did?”

Caleb groans, “C’mon, just tell me. I’ll find out eventually, won’t I? What harm is there now?”

Previously, Rafayel dealt with this time of year on his own. Sweat it out locked away in his room, or in a safehouse a few cities away. It was just an unspoken rule, Rafayel was at his most vulnerable at this time– and until recently, things were too uncertain for him to indulge in it.

In the Sanctuary, Rafayel was adamant that this unusual occurrence would be kept from you. The other men were sworn to secrecy, and promised to keep you occupied while Rafayel disappeared for a few days every year. Because, while Rafayel’s heart belonged to all of them, the bond of Lemuria was first forged with you. 

You knock softly before entering the bathroom. The sound of sloshing water meeting your ears as you slowly step inside. “Rafayel? You okay?”

A soft groan replies, and you spy his head hung back, resting on the rounded lip of the ivory tub. His hair is wet and slicked back, the long creamy length of his throat bobs as you grow closer. Sweat beads at his crown and drips down his nose– rosy lips parted and panting. 

And as pretty a picture he makes, it’s not what you stare at. 

Where his legs once were is a long, powerful, cerulean tail. The scales are huge and iridescent, shimmering like an opal with every tiny movement, gradually growing smaller down the length of it. It’s far too long to fit in the tub, so nearly half hangs out of it, draped across the floor. The translucent tailfin lies limply at your feet, and looks thin like dewy skin of a jellyfish. 

You haven’t seen his tail in this life, and it’s more striking than your returned memories could do justice. 

“Rafayel…” You whisper, partially in awe and partially in concern. He doesn’t look well, and he’s never changed forms in the bathtub before. Setting the pill bottle aside for a moment, you step close to the tub and use your hand to cup water and trickle it down the exposed scales– worried they might dry out. 

A soft, whine leaves his blushed lips, and his eyes stare at you like he can’t believe you’re real. Like you might be something conjured from the fever. 

“It’s okay…” You say, reaching out to brush your hand through his damp hair, “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

A piteous moan rings from him, and he grips the side of the tub like he might sink and drown. Hips rolling against the cold water and sloshing more over the side, splashing down on the tile. “I need….” He rasps, licking at his lips like he hasn’t tasted moisture in days. “I need… ”

“I know,” You say, reaching down to grab the pill bottle. “I got some painkillers. Here–”

You go to open the bottle, but Rafayel’s scalding palm snaps to your wrist. The sound of your gasp and the pills scattering to the floor fill the room, but then quickly followed with a low, animal rumble from Rafayel’s chest. 

He drags you close, hovering over him. Unceremoniously, Rafayel pulls your hand down beneath the water– the frigid temperature stings your skin. You feel the heat of him before you touch him, and the slick almost slimy feeling of his scales meets your fingertips. 

The instant your fingers meet his heated flesh, a ragged, dragged out moan is punched out of him, and his hips rolls towards your open palm. You’ve barely touched him, and he already looks completely fucked-out. Multi-colored irises rolled back, mouth open, throat bobbing. 

You press your hand a little firmer to the scales around his hip, and he inhales sharply through his teeth– a deeply satisfying sound. Dragging your fingers towards where you’re sure he wants it, you’re met with another shock. 

Where normally, his pretty flushed cock would be waiting for you– he throbs so pretty when he’s desperate– you find nothing. Well, not exactly nothing , but not what you were expecting. 

Rafayel still has a vice grip on your wrist, and pulls you closer to the crux of his hips– where his penis should be. Only, instead, you find more scales. Large, thin, and glass-like. The dip in them is nearly imperceptible, and looking through the rippling surface of the water provides no more clues. 

Your fingertips catch on an anomaly in the patter of his scales, a little divot you hadn’t felt the first time across. Pausing, you press a little to this odd dip, and Rafayel's keen moan lets you know you’re on the right track. 

You lift up to watch his face– the lewd colors of his cheeks contrasted by the shimmery scales that decorated it. You can almost see his pulse pound in his neck, and resist the urge to overstimulate him further with your teeth. Pushing your fingers harder, you gasp when the dip gives way to a slit. Your digits slide easily into a tight, fleshy passage, fluttering around you like a welcome. 

“ Ahh!” Rafayel cries, “Please! Please love….inside. Inside more…. more …”

He’s practically delirious with it, and it’s intoxicating. You’ve never had Rafayel begging for you like this, and the power is too delicious to stop. You’ve got the god of tides writhing on your fingers, and you're not even knuckle deep yet. 

“Why did you hide this from me?” You coo softly, leaning over to place your face close to his. He turns to face you, and his eyes immediately fall to your lips. A soft, silent, plea for your kiss. 

He tries to speak, and you can tell because his tongue moves ineffectually in his pleasure drunk mouth. You tut softly, and give him the tender kiss he desires. 

“Shh…” You hum against his lips, “I’ve got you. It’s okay….just let me take care of you….”

He dissolves at your words, pressing his face as close as he can to yours. You keep up a steady, slow rhythm of your fingers. Letting the gooey topography of his slit guide you. You’re not sure how much he can take, and you’re not interested in hurting him– yet. 

Rafayel’s hips continue to rut, as indiscernible pleas spill from his lips. You wonder if this is what you look like in the heat of things– a wanton amalgamation of desperation and desire chasing a high. 

As he gets closer to his peak, you notice something change. A tighter pressure that presses against the back of your fingers and then up. It’s wet, and swelteringly hot. The heat alone has you turning your head to try and get a better look at what’s going. 

Oh. 

You gasp softly, even through the shifting water you can see the flushed, nearly purple appendage protruding from his slit just beneath your hand. So he does have a cock in this form.

Except…it’s not alone. Side by side, they lie. Forming an almost mandorla shape together, and two halves of a whole separately. They long and prehensile, you discover, as they split apart to wrap around your wrist. 

It’s obscene. It’s….amazing. You can’t look away, and you can’t stop yourself from drawing your fingers from his channel and reaching for them. His cocks greet you like they’d been waiting for it. A deep, heavy throb as you wrap your fingers lightly around them. They fit together almost seamlessly, and if you hadn’t seen them move apart, you’d think there was only one, large, tentacle-like cock. 

You’ve barely squeezed them when Rafayel shouts– a strangled, surprised noise cutting through him. His cocks jolt and you can feel him come. The rush of come spurting out and into the water. Pump after pump after pump. 

Rafayel’s hand grabs at your arm, and his nails dig into your flesh harshly. 

You’re mesmerized. There’s a matching beat deep in your belly, as your own arousal begins to hurt slightly. Drunk on this all-encompassing control you have over him, you turn to watch his face as he comes down from his sudden, bone-shattering high. 

He starts to catch his breath, and you can see as his eyes slowly come back into focus. Whatever feverish delight had taken over him, is subsided for now, and he languidly draws you in. A hand on the side of your face and the other on your neck– he doesn’t let you escape. A soft kiss at first, and then a little harder. He bites at your lip like he might sustain himself from the taste alone. 

He pauses and pulls away, but only an inch. He searches your face for a moment, before whispering, “Did I hurt you?”

You laugh breathlessly and shake your head as much as you can while he holds you tightly, “No. No, I'm fine. Are you? You’ve never been like this before….”

Rafayel sighs wistfully, and lets you go. He looks down at himself. The tub is nearly half-empty now, with how much water he spilled in his rutting. The end of his tail knocked over the little side table which held the bath salts and bubbles– which now lay strewn across the floor. 

The water is a little murky now, and he frowns. 

“I guess I should explain.”

You’ve got your arms folded, sitting cross legged in the center of your bed and glaring at the sea god and his audacity. “So what was the plan? Come here and just hope I didn’t notice?”

Rafayel is bad at explaining things, and it felt like pulling teeth before you got even halfway to understand what was happening. 

Ebb Day. A day when the tide flows the opposite direction and creatures from the deep sea come to the surface. He’d started the explanation with some long winded fairytale about a mermaid and sailor that fell in love, but it turns out that has so very little to do with what is happening to him. 

From what you could piece together, it’s a day of extreme weakness for Lemurians. A day where even the weakest human might overpower them, and even more dangerous for those who were bonded. 

Lemurians’ whole beings become dedicated to those they love. They forge an unbreakable, soulbond with their chosen one, and all their senses become attuned to them. And the weeks leading up to Ebb day, their bodies not only crave their beloved but they need them. 

The week of Ebb day is uncomfortable for most, and wretched for those with bonds but for whatever reason unable to be with them. Rafayel is sparse in his explanation here, mumbling out half-heartedly comments about the pain and possible hallucinations that can occur. 

Ebb day is now five days away. Rafayel is almost too casual as he tells you that what happened in the bathroom will only get worse the closer you get. 

Zayne returns to the room with some bottles of water. He hands one to you, and then hands the other to Rafayel– letting his evol frost it over before the siren takes it. 

“I figured I’d spend it in the ocean.” Rafayel replies to your previous discontent with a shrug. “You get a little vacay, and I get to stay close. This is easier to deal with in the water anyways.”

That makes your scowl deepen, “You were going to go through this alone? Why? If you didn’t want me to know, then you could have at least had one of the others help?!”

Rafayel pauses mid-gulp. He finishes his water and tosses it aside, “It’s not that simple, cutie. It’s a nice thought, but I’m not exactly fun to be around when this happens. And I could seriously hurt you.”

“Don’t be dumb.” You bite back. “You think I can’t handle a little neediness and rough handling?”

Zayne sighs as he leaves the room, letting the two of you continue bickering with a shake of his head. Distantly, you hear Caleb’s muffled voice from just outside the door– he’s been lingering just outside, listening in just in case.

Rafayel’s face hardens, and he sits up from where he lounged against the pillows, “You think that’s all it is?”

He sounds a little darker, a little more genuinely irritated instead of that feigned annoyance he usually wears. The way he prowls across the bed to you has the hair on the back of your neck standing up, and you lean back on your hands. 

Rafayel’s grin is predatory, and it tingles that coil in your gut that makes your lips part in a soft, subtle gasp. He doesn’t touch you, but somehow pushes you onto your back nonetheless. Placing one hand to their side of your head, he crawls over you. 

“You’re not a Lemurian.” Rafayel purrs, “You won’t understand. It’s about connecting…body, mind, soul. It’s about possession. It’s about procreation.”

You swallow a heavy lump in your throat. Heart pounding in your ears as his lips caress every word. “P-procreation?”

Rafayel hums and lowers his head, hiding his face against your chest. He places a feather-light kiss to your collarbone, and then ghosts his lips up your neck, whispering against your jaw, “A week of being so tightly pressed together...you can’t tell where one body ends and the other begins. The final day…I’ll be so obsessed with the idea of filling you, I won’t stop til it takes .”

Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. Mind spinning as it slowly catches up with what he just said. “Do you…really want that?”

Rafayel pauses in his teasing. Lips hovering over the untouched side of your neck. He looks up at you through violet tinged lashes and smiles gently, “Not until you do.”

He returns to kissing you. Placing tender, loving touches to all the skin he can reach. It’s slow and lazy– like you’ve got all the time in the world. 

You blink a few times and try to screw your head on straight, “If we do this…” You whisper softly, “Is it guaranteed that I will…that I’ll…?”

You only ask because you’re not entirely certain that your poor human birth control could withstand Rafayel’s sea-god sex week. It’s been a wonder that it’s withstood the onslaught of your lovers up until now. 

Rafayel laughs, but it sounds like thunder. “Don’t tease me, cutie. I might get ideas…”

“Rafayel, I’m serious.” You reply, placing your hands to his face and pulling him to look at you. There’s a daze to his eyes again, but he’s still lucid for now. “I won’t let you go through this alone. Me and the others…we’re here for you. I just need to know if I should take something beforehand.”

There’s a shift in his expression. The teasing and taunting fading into something uncertain. You feel his gaze shift around your face, the weight of attention like layers of thick silk. A sense of anticipation tightens in the air as he shifts ever closer.

Rafayel sighs, nearly silent. “I warn you and warn you, yet still you insist…”

His voice trails off, words disappearing into the air around you. A firm hand on your hip has you sliding into him, and Rafayel catches your lips in a heady kiss. 

You feel the heat radiating off of him again, seeping into your mouth and warming your tongue like a steaming cup of tea. It’s hard to match his fervor when his entire body is hardwired to perceive you. How could you hope to meet him halfway when his body yearns not for food nor water, but for you?

In between wet kisses, Rafayel mumbles, “I won’t be held responsible then…” He tilts his head and drags his sharp teeth across the tender flesh of your throat, breathing raggedly like he has to put great effort in not biting down. “And I won’t hold back….”

 Rafayel’s fingertips leave trails of tingling sensations in their wake. His evol burns at the very tips of his skin, burning him from the inside out and using his desire as fuel. You’d be worried about him actually burning you if it didn’t feel so delectable.

Your clothes are torn from you, seams popped in the rush to remove them. A button from your shorts clattering across the hardwood floor. Rafayel doesn’t seem to hear any of it. His ears are filled with the sound of your breath. The soft whines that leave you, coaxed from you like a divine instrument. You sing for him even before he’s able to get his tongue inside you. 

The taste of you has his eyes rolling back in his head. He thought you tasted heavenly before, especially when you were close to ovulating. A special kind of sweetness that bloomed across his tongue– whispering in low tones to his worst instincts that you were ready. 

But this? Rafayel can’t get enough. He can’t stop from lapping at you like a ravenous beast, and maybe that’s all he is. Maybe all that talk of sea god this or god of tides that was just folklore to hide the true nature of him. The nature of a gluttonous, greedy man made weak from the dew between your legs. 

Your back arches and Rafayel moans, he reaches one hand up your body– needing to feel more of your precious skin. You’ve never felt cool to him before; your touch is always warm, but this heat ….this burning heat inside him threatens to melt his brain, and it feels like you’re the cure. You’re what he needs to quench the flames.

The room is a blur. Anything that isn’t you fades into a muted background. Rafayel isn’t sure how long he spent tongue-fucking you, but when he finds another moment of clarity, he’s above you. He’s got your thighs pressed to your chest, the backs of your knees acting as handrests as he presses you in half. 

“ Ra-Rafa–” You can’t even finish his name, nearly drooling as he teases his cock inside. Your weepy cunt throbbing for him– for him. 

Usually, Rafayel is whispering filth in your ear. He loves to watch your eyelashes flutter and feel you tighten up. It’s almost too easy to mumble praises and get you into that pliant, floaty headspace, and he never misses an opportunity. 

Except for now. Now, he’s slack jawed, groaning with every rough push of his hips. In this position he can reach that deep, squishy spot inside you that has your voice pitching up. He can feel you gush in a new wave of slick that has his tongue feeling too restless for his mouth– torn suddenly with the urge to drink it up. 

Rafayel doesn’t even realize he’s close to coming until you do. It’s like his body isn’t his– like the stimuli he’s feeling is just secondary to you. When you come– singing for him, squeezing him, Rafayel follows immediately after. Like your cry of pleasure is a plea for his come that he’s helpless to obey. 

It’s not enough to just come inside you. It’s not enough to just know he’s filled you up– no. No , it’s not enough. Rafayel grits his teeth, an uncomfortable feeling scouring under his skin that’s only soothed when he continues to thrust inside you. Deep, heavy rolls of his hips that pushes his come deeper and deeper and deeper . 

Rafayel nearly works himself back up into a fever again. The mantra burning inside his head is impossible to ignore, and he needs to know his come as where it’s supposed to be. 

He’s not sure how much time passes, only that he has to keep going. As long as it takes. 

A hand enters his line of vision, and Rafayel hisses softly. The pale skin of the intruder is familiar, but for some reason his hackles still raise. 

“You need to let go of her.” Xavier’s voice is soft, but firm. His hand rests on Rafayel’s shoulder, a cool but heavy weight that sobers the sea god slightly. 

Rafayel blinks, and looks down. You’re still beneath him, folded into a deep mating press. You’re breathing heavily, and when you meet Rafayel’s eyes he can see the remnants of tears that have leaked out. 

He pulls away, and scowls when he sees the imprint of his hands left on the backs of your legs. You exhale in relief as you unfold yourself, and lean your face into Xavier’s hand when he caresses you. 

Rafayel burns inside. The bond in his heart sits like a white-hot coal. This bond….was forged with you, and Rafayel had always assumed that he’d unconsciously reject the others if they’d intruded. 

But that’s not what he feels. He doesn’t feel possession over you, or a desire to sever Xavier’s hand from his wrist for daring to touch you. Rafayel sits on his heels and watches as the blond assesses you, cares for you, and places a soft kiss to your nose. 

“I’m okay…” You whisper softly, reassuring Xavier with a soft kiss to his palm. “I didn’t know I could bend like that for that long.”

Xavier hums, sounding both amused and impressed. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I was worried.”

Rafayel finally finds the ability to move again, and slides back up you body, propping himself up on his elbows and laying across you like a heated weighted blanket, “Aw, were you worried she couldn’t handle it?”

Xavier, who was now sat on the edge of the bed near your head, looks over to Rafayel with an impassive expression, “No. Besides giving her a muscle cramp, I know bunny can handle it. It was you I was worried about.”

Rafayel’s brow lowers, and he has to grapple against a sudden rush of heat again. His mind whirls with this casual confession of concern, because he’s itching again. The desire to touch and taste is back– rising like a stoked inferno, but it’s not just you anymore. 

You sit up slightly, and Rafayel is caught ensnared by the vision of you. Your skin is flushed, hair askew, and a litany of lovely marks against your neck that Rafayel isn’t certain when he left. 

“He feels a little cooler now,” You say, reaching out to brush some hair from his face. A tender, compassionate gesture that shouldn’t stir him as much as it does. “I think letting him go a little wild is helping.”

Xavier hums and reaches out, placing the back of his palm against the forehead you exposed, “How frequently are the bouts of delirium? We should time them to make sure you’re eating enough…”

Xavier lets his hand fall, and Rafayel will deny the sound of disappointment that left him. 

“Rafayel?” Your voice calls to him, but instead of drawing his attention, the syllables of his name ring like weights at his ankles– dragging him further under. Vaguely, he hears you say, “He’s getting droopy eyed again. Rafayel, can you hear me?”

Rafayel feels your voice and moves, rising up to slide his form against yours, feeling the curves of your body like a wave against the sand. Dragging skin against skin so he can feel the balm you provide his heat, “I hear you…darling. I hear you fine.”

“You need to go again?” You whisper, reaching out to hold the sides of his face, “Can you wait? Take a drink at least…”

Rafayel grins, breathing out against your lips in an amused huff, “Oh good idea… I’m so thirsty…just let me…”

He slides back down, heading towards the only thing he wants to taste at the moment. Why would he need anything else? He’s certain, in this moment, that he could be sustained fro your pussy alone.

Before he can get his mouth where he wants it, something– someone – stops him. A hand that first tries to get his attention by squeezing his shoulder. Xavier calls Rafayel’s name, but the man doesn’t hear it. And when that doesn’t work, Xavier finds a grip in the sea god’s hair, fingers tangled in violet tresses and pulling his head back.

The sound that leaves Rafayel is wrecked. A broken, pleading moan that is far too high and whiny. “ Oh…”

Xavier inhales sharply and too easily, Rafayel follows his hold, crawling back up your body and rising up to his knees to be closer to Xavier’s face. The blond holds him close so that there’s no question the delirious man can hear him, “You’re going to hurt yourself, or hurt her. Is that what you want?”

Rafayel’s eyes and drooping, unfocused and unseeing because the sensation of the hand in his hair is too much. “N-no…”

Xavier nods, stunned slightly by how permissive Rafayel is with the manhandling. A whole new side of the artist is being revealed, and the room buzzes with anticipation for it. 

Something about Xavier’s command has Rafayel staying put, obeying despite everything. The prince exits to retrieve sustenance, and returns to find Rafayel covering your exposed skin in soft, wet kisses. He hadn’t moved from where Xavier had put him, and only touched what he could reach. 

Rafayel downs another entire bottle of water while you take a few sips of yours. You barely get the lid on before he’s grabbing you again, hot breath steaming out of him as he lines his weepy cock up with your tender entrance. 

“ A-ahh… ” You sigh as he wastes absolutely no time pushing inside you, too eager and too hot to think of anything else. 

Xavier hesitates before leaving, covering the sides of your face with his hands to watch the pleasure melt you. His hazy blue eyes look up at the other man currently wrecking you and asks, “Can I stay?”

Rafayel grunts, rutting his hips a little harder, “You’re next.”

It sounds like a horrible threat and a loving, desperate promise. 

Xavier keeps his distance for the moment, only entering the cloud of candy desire by holding your hands through the thorough wrecking. Rafayel doesn’t let up, his inhuman stamina coming to strut it’s stuff. Leaving you a leaky, trembling mess. 

After Rafayel comes inside a second time, you’re left drooling into the blankets, unsure what happens now. He’d said Xavier was next, but what did that mean?

You feel Rafayel drag Xavier onto the bed, tearing at his clothes even rougher than he’d been with yours. It’s hard to breathe, watching as the blond is unwrapped like a birthday present– clothing ripped like tissue paper and discarded for the prize underneath. 

Your mind is only a few seconds ahead of what’s in front of your eyes, and your imagination supplies lurid images of Rafayel pulling Xavier into a kiss. A beat and it happens, like foresight. You imagine Rafayel pushing Xavier onto the mattress beside you, and voila, there he is. 

You imagine Rafayel moving in between Xavier’s leg and being too hasty with trying to get inside him– but that’s not what happens next. Rafayel doesn’t rush like you thought he might. Instead, he takes his time to taste the prince’s neck. His chest and down the ripples expanse of his abdomen. 

Xavier is just as surprised as you are by the attention to his pleasure, and a sharp hiss cuts through the blond’s teeth when Rafayel drags his tongue up his cock. He was already half-hard just watching the two of you, but with that one lascivious lick he’s steely and twitching. 

This time, you get to kiss Xavier through his pleasure. Drink in his stunned gasps and shuddering moans as Rafayel takes him in his throat down to the hilt. 

Now that you’ve caught your breath, you can dedicate more attention to them. Letting your fingers dance across Xavier’s chest, feeling the way his heart pounds in his chest, and pinching his peachy nipples. 

It’s always been such a treat to see a man like Xavier crumble. His voice is always so soft, like feather down and sun sugar– but in pleasure it gets deeper, darker. Rich like couverture chocolate sparked with chili. Even as rough as Xavier can be, there’s gentleness. 

He likes to hold you by the throat, and he does so now. Not gripping, but cradling. Feeling the tender chords of your throat bend as you swallow and breathe. Your pulse thrums against his fingertips and it soothes him. Xavier finds comfort in him like you do in him. A place to unravel from your defensive coil and exist in decadent vulnerability. 

Xavier gets a little rougher when he’s close. Biting at his lip and pulling your face closer to his with one hand while his other goes to grip Rafayel’s hair– mindlessly thrusting up into the wet heat of his lover’s mouth. 

Rafayel knows it as well as you do that Xavier’s on the precipice– probably more so. With a satisfied rumble, the sea god draws away. Chuckling as he watches Xavier thrust up into nothing. 

“Stay just like that…” Rafayel commands, voice low, soft, but dangerous. He rises up onto his knees, and places his scalding hand just below Xavier’s navel. “Let me look at you for a minute.”

The minute passes agonizingly slowly. Xavier struggles not to move, his face twitching and you can almost see his train of thought. He’s debating disobeying– taking control. He’s not usually a fan of being on his back, even with you.

You wonder if Rafayel is doing it to edge the poor prince, or to try and memorize him to draw later. You found Rafayel’s more salacious sketchbook once while cleaning his studio– a small letter sized book filled with graphite sketches of you and your lovers in various erotic positions. 

Rafayel doesn’t say anything before he moves. There’s just the slightest shift in his breath, a sharp inhale that breaks the pattern before he’s dragging his hand down and gripping Xavier’s cock. Pumping a few times until the prince moans prettily. 

Of the months you’ve been with them, you’ve never seen Rafayel bottom. Not once. Not once has ever let the other men take him in that way, so it’s more than a little surprising to see him shift to straddle Xavier’s waist. 

Xavier’s hands snap to Rafayel’s hip, gripping him tightly, “Wait…are you sure?”

Even Xavier can’t believe it, apparently. The hands on Rafayel’s waist are pulling him down, but keeping him up.

You sit up onto your elbows and reach for Rafayel’s hand, which he grasps tightly. 

“Don’t deny me.” Rafayel hisses, glowering down at the blond with his chin raised, “I need it.”

So demanding, even like this. You're completely tongue-tied and unsure what to do, because your equal parts worried about the change in character and interested to see where it goes. 

“Bunny,” Xavier turns his head to motion towards the bedside table, “Lube.”

His voice is tight and strained and so you don’t waste any time. You clatter to the table and retrieve the half-empty bottle from the drawer. When you turn, Rafayel isn’t fighting against Xavier’s hold anymore, but is sitting on Xavier’s hip just behind where he wants to be. Letting their cocks sit beside each other. 

Rafayel is almost petulant as Xavier coaxes him to move, making sure he can prep him properly with his fingers. You soothe the siren’s hunger by keeping him occupied with your mouth. Kissing him sweetly until his whines of irritation turn into soft keens of pleasure. You wrap your hand around his reddened member and let him drive his hips forward and back– into your palm and back onto Xavier’s fingers. 

Once Xavier’s satisfied that no damage will be done, he returns to their original position. Xavier lays on his back and gasps when Rafayel climbs him like he’ll die if he doesn’t sit on Xavier right. this. instant.

Xavier moans, long and drawn out as Rafayel attempts to spear himself– gasping like he’s drawing. And maybe he is? You’ve been so consumed in the heat of the moment, you haven’t really considered what Rafayel might be feeling. 

It must be frightening to feel like you’ll die if you don’t get to touch someone. 

You rise to your knees, and move. Grabbing both of Rafayels hands and pulling his attention to you, “Slow. Slower than that. Rafayel, look at me, yeah?”

Rafayel does. Through a cloud of amethyst haze, his eyes find yours. He’s panting, shivering, sweating. 

“I need…”

“I know.” You say, and when you nod your noses brush together. “But you have to start slow. If you start slow, you can go fast later…follow me. Move with me.”

“Yes…” Rafayel begs, leaning forward to kiss you weakly. He slows the press of his hips downwards, following the gentle guidance of your hands. “ Oh…yes…”

“That’s it.” You breathe reverently. “You’re doing wonderful. So perfect.”

Rafayel responds to your praise with a staggered moan, breaking up into little pieces like thin sugar candy. 

Xavier is a barely contained flame. He’s got one hand gripping Rafayel’s hip to hold the slow pace, despite the pleasure that threatens to consume him from the sweltering heat swallowing him up. His other hand rests on your thigh, squeezing you like a stress ball as if it’s the only thing keeping him from coming apart at the seams. 

Soon enough, you find a rhythm. You feel powerful– like a goddess – guiding Rafayel with your hands up and down. Up the veiny length of Xavier’s shaft and back down again. 

Once Rafayel is moving without your assistance, Xavier is able to find his control again. It’s only a flicker of sanity through the draping heat that leads the prince to grabbing you, hauling up and grunting, “ Sit, bunny.”

It doesn’t take a starfleet scientist to figure what he means, because he’s forgoing thrusting up for the moment to make sure you’re positioned right. Thighs on either side of his head, and drippy sex right above his face. 

Bracing yourself against Xavier’s chest you slowly press down, but Xavier isn’t having any of the demure shit right now. He’s got a sea god bouncing on his cock, and he was a goddess on his face. He growls– the only warning you get before he’s dragging you down. Meeting your cunt with his outstretched tongue. 

The combined stimuli of Xavier’s devilish tongue and watching Rafayel ride him is enough to overcome any hesitation. Less than a minute later you’re rolling your hips. Riding Xavier’s face just like he wants you to. 

“ Ah! Ah! Ah!” You cry rhythmically, meeting the tempo Rafayel’s thrusts like you might connect your lust drunk minds, to feel what he feels. To taste that decadent pleasure you both deliriously chase. 

Oddly, you come first. Shaking and trembling as you feel Xavier drink up every drop of honey you give him. A muffled moan vibrates against your clit and sends shocks of sensation up your stripped spine– sparking into painful overstimulation.

Xavier isn’t far behind, wrung of his orgasm from the vice heat of Rafayel’s plushy insides. His peak is muffled because he won’t let you pull away. He won’t remove his tongue from inside you and miss even a second of the syrupy sweet taste. 

Rafayel slows his hips as Xavier slowly softens inside him, and when you find a moment to breathe– that breath catches in your lungs. Rafayel’s attention has turned to you, eyes falling on you like a headsman's axe. 

“Come to me.” Rafayel says sharply. 

Xavier barely has enough time to release his hold on your thighs before his violet haired lover is pulling you away. Pushing you over to squish your face in the bed right next to Xavier’s messy face, and pulling your hips up. 

“Can’t waste it.” Rafayel sounds possessed. Like his voice doesn’t belong to him. Speaking absentmindedly as he grips the base of his cock, precome dripping from the weepy slit. It takes a few searching half-hearted thrusts to find your seam and press inside. “Don’t waste a drop… my darling girl. My beloved bride…”

Rafayel thrusts with his whole body, and it’s the first sign of any exhaustion he’s shown. He draws out to the very tip and then pushes back inside, carving his place inside you like it’s his. And it is. You’re his. 

“Nngh!” You choke on a mixture of pleasure and pain. You’re pushing against the limits of what you can handle in a session, but the feeling satisfying this radiant divine part of Rafayel is enough to keep you going. “I-I won’t! I won’t waste it!”

It’s only two more thrusts before Rafayel comes, thready dripping from his blushed lips like a siren’s song. And it feels like that’s exactly what it is. Your mind sinks into a fluffy, warm space. Drunk and sedated simultaneously from his reverent attention and the heated rush of come flooding you once more.

Later that day, you’re laying on a lounge chair on the back porch, letting the afternoon sun warm your skin. Caleb sits beside you, massaging your body with some oddly scented lotion. 

On paper, spending all day squished between your ravenous, heat-stricken lover and one or two of your other lovers sounds great. On paper, Rafayel’s ebb day rut sounded great. Marathon sex without end? Yes please.

Only, the reality is a little less sexy and a bit more sticky. Rafayel refuses to come unless it’s inside you, even when he was previous fucking someone else. You’d feel special if you didn’t feel like an overfilled cream donut– who’re you kidding? You’re definitely gonna miss this once it’s over. 

Until then, you hurt. Your muscles ache and you feel raw inside. It stings a little when you walk– the little limp you had when you finally got a chance to stand up only riled Rafayel up again. 

Currently, Zayne is occupying the sea god with Xavier. While Sylus and Caleb keep you company and let you rest for a moment. Sylus sits in a lawn chair right next to the door, sipping at pomegranate lemonade with a little yellow umbrella, and acting like a bouncer. No one’s going in or going out at the moment, not until Caleb’s done. 

“I smell like a medicine cabinet now…” You whine softly but make no effort to move away. 

“It’s magnesium lotion, pipsqueak.” Caleb explains as he digs his thumbs into your calf, rolling out the potential knots and pressing the cream deep. “It’ll help you from getting sore.”

“I’m already sore.” You hide your face into the pillow and groan softly. “Ugh this is only day one….”

Sylus chuckles and swirls his drink a few times, the ice cubes rattling together, “We should feel grateful he’s willing to play with others. He was always adamant it could only be you.”

Lifting your head, you give Sylus a sharp look, “What do you mean ‘he always’ ?”

Sylus brings his drink to his lips and smiles when he places the bendy straw in his mouth. He takes a long, slow swig before he answers you, “I’d like to preempt this with the fact I was never on board with keeping it a secret, but it wasn’t my secret to share.”

“Big on transparency, are you?” Caleb remarks as he gently rolls his fingers around your ankle. 

“Oh, communication is key.” Sylus replies playfully, “We were made aware of his predicament in the world before. The Sanctuary was hardly a place for a Lemurian to hide away during such a vulnerable time. This bond that Lemurians forge, he was certain it would reject everyone except you, and your fishy had the sense that you , for whatever reason, couldn’t handle a week of his full attention. Though, was he wrong?”

You pout but it quickly morphs into a grimace as Caleb finds a knot in your thigh. “Sorry, pips.” He says softly, and then under furth examination, clicks his tongue in disappointment. “You have bruises here. On the backs of your thighs.”

Sylus lowers his chin to peer over his sunglasses, while Caleb traces the blooming marks with his fingertips. You twist to try and see, but the backs of your thighs aren’t exactly accessible, and so you fall back to lay on your stomach. “I’m not surprised. He had me in that mating press for like thirty minutes.”

“M-mating press?” Caleb stutters, hand falling a little heavier on your skin and squeezing ever so slightly. 

“Okay so maybe he wasn’t wrong entirely.” You concede, “But he was wrong about the bond rejecting you. He didn’t have to go through it alone.”

“If someone is half-wrong,” Sylus begins as he leans back in his chair, “Does that make the half-right part inconsequential?”

“He should be gentler.” Caleb mumbles softly, drawing his thumbs up the back of your thigh, and then– a moment later– pressing his lips there. “If he can’t control himself, then maybe he should go through it alone.”

You turn and give Caleb a stern look, letting him stew on the words he just said. 

Sylus’ laugh is devilish and he lowers his sunglasses to give Caleb a mischievous smirk, “Ooh, better apologize puppy. I’d hate to see you sleeping outside.”

Caleb frowns, and no such apology is made. 

Thankfully, after the first day. Rafayel cools off a little. The excitement of the new opportunities had made his poor fishy brain melt a little, and he’d gotten so carried away he even wore himself out. 

Shifts were taken. Though it was hard to keep as Rafayel’s instincts were fickle and unfathomable. He would seek out one of your group like he’d been starved of them, and it felt like a roll of the dice who it would be. 

On the dreaded Ebb day . It was gloomy– the sky was overcast in bluish grey and the wind was sharper as it rushed in from the ocean. It felt foreboding, and it was. 

Rafayel wouldn’t let any of you leave the bedroom. He snapped at Zayne for daring to try and go make breakfast, and nearly clawed Caleb’s arm off when he tried to escape the nest of bodies and sleep on the floor. 

This bed wasn’t nearly as spacious as your bed at home, but Rafayel seemed to enjoy the closeness. While the rest of you sweat through the humidity, the sea god seemed soothed by it. Though he complained about the heat constantly, when someone was touching him he would sigh like a cold compress was pressed to his skin. 

During the week, Rafayel would have time between his bouts of ravenous desire. Sometimes he was granted hours between them where he was able to drink, eat, and bathe. And then, just as suddenly, he’d grab you. Pin you to the ground and mount you like he hadn’t seen you in months. Begging you to take it like he might cry if you didn’t. 

Today, there was no such reprieve. The moment the sun rose, Rafayel was gone. Replaced by someone who didn’t exist without you. His skin needed to be pressed to yours. He’d awoken you with his cock inside you– with slow, heavy thrusts. Sylus was still awake, and talked the two of you through it. Holding onto Rafayel’s hip with a tight hand to keep from pounding too harshly into you. 

After you were filled, Sylus kissed you. He drank in the remnants of your pleasure and gently detached you from the sea god. He handed you to Zayne, whispering a soft request to take care of you to the doctor. 

You were able to get a few more hours of sleep while Sylus battled against the other mythic creature. Dragon versus siren, and this once– the dragon came out on top. Bending Rafayel over to fuck him deep and fast. It was hard to sleep through the harsh slaps of hips against one another, and the weepy cries of Rafayel’s cross-eyed pleasure. 

When Sylus had had his fill, Rafayel found you again. Pushing you into Zayne’s chest and not caring that the doctor held you while he pushed your legs apart. Pleading with you to please, please, please show him your pretty pussy again. 

Zayne was an active bystander for this round. A slower, more purposeful rutting as Rafayel rolled with him. Guided by the doctor’s skilled fingers that shimmered with frost. 

You could hardly catch your breath. Every inhale stung with the frigid air, and every exhale swallowed by Rafayel’s desperate mouth. His cock felt even more swelteringly hot inside you with Zayne at your back. The contrast was too much, and you came three times before Rafayel met his end– filling you again. 

You were icky and dripping by midday. Sticky with sweat, leaking Rafayel’s come despite his commands to not spill a drop. While the others tried to rest in between rounds, Caleb couldn’t sleep, and spent most of his time trying to take care of you. 

He tutted softly as you sleepily leaned into him, letting him drag the warm washcloth against your abdomen and then down to the crux of your thighs. It was gentle and reverent, but Rafayel took personal offense to this. He snarled at Caleb and snatched the washcloth– throwing it across the room like a poisoned article.

Caleb was punished with face shoved into your pussy, lapping like the little puppy he was while Rafayel fucked him harshly. It was almost mean, and even Xavier woke up and attempted to draw the siren’s attention away. 

It didn’t work. And Rafayel wasn’t satisfied until he’d made Caleb beg to come. The colonel sang his pleas into the folds of your cunt, only drawing his tongue away for those few moments until it was back again. 

Rafayel didn’t come inside Caleb. In a flurry, he pulled out, and rolled Caleb away, dragging you by the ankle to shove back inside you. It seemed you were due a punishment too, for letting Caleb wipe away his come in the first place. Rafayel whispered his promises to fill you darkly in your ear. Now, he’d have to try twice as hard. 

Xavier was the only one Rafayel was halfway gentle with. The only of your group besides you that he seemed willing to ride without harsh desperation, and so the rounds that included the blond were the easiest. 

It was almost sundown when you found yourself feeling a bit dizzy, draped across Sylus’ chest as Rafayel fucked you from behind. Xavier’s firm hands on the artist’s waist kept him from pounding you, and the blond’s low voice in his ear had him trembling close to orgasm in record time. 

The sunset, and darkness blanketed your house. It snuck up on you, because one moment you were still being used like a come dump and the next you’re passed out alongside the others in a haphazard pile. 

Zayne, of course, is the only one sleeping halfway properly. He’s got a pillow and everything. From there, it’s just downhill With Sylus leaning against him, nearly upright and Xavier in his lap, splayed like a sleepy housecat. Caleb is snoring on top of Zayne with his legs over Xavier’s and an arm draped over his eyes. You’re nestled somewhere in the middle, with Rafayel laying on your chest with your legs intertwined. 

Exhaustion is too soft a word. This is bone-deep debility. Wrung out like wet rags of every last drop of moisture. You snore louder than you ever have, and even the storm that brews outside that night does nothing to stir any of you. 

A short spring storm wets the earth. Thunder rumbles and lightning casts flashes of cool light into your room. None of it disturbs your rest. Not even the rush of wind and rain tapping against your window intrudes upon the blessed peace you’ve finally found. 

When morning comes, the storm is gone, and Ebb day is finally over.

[angelyuji]

안녕하새요!!!!!

hello my freaks and geeks im tweaking out so hard over caleb ive started speaking different languages anyway lemme cook

lads caleb x f!reader

tw // yandere, manipulation, implied kidnapping, slight noncon (near the end), slight somno (nothing too crazy), kinda slight fauxcest, reader has boobs :P, silly goofy goober caleb my cutiepie pookie dookie wookie ilyyy (sorry i got cuteness aggression)

caleb who keeps you locked up in his home after you refuse to listen to him, too independent after losing him.

"do i need your permission to leave, coronel? to sleep? to eat?" your mocking voice rings in his head. caleb clenches his fists, forcing himself to calm down. you just need a steady hand, his hand to remind you that you don't have to do everything alone anymore.

he quietly enters the room you're in, "you've changed, caleb, everything... everything about you is wrong." he grits his teeth, watching you turn in your sleep, your feet shackled to the bedposts. no. nothing about him is wrong. it's you. you don't understand. you just don't understand everything he's done for you.

"you're sick, caleb." sick? him? he would give you the world if you asked and you rejected him, but somehow he's the sick one. caleb laughs to himself, you were always stubborn even when the two of you were young. you were stubborn and stupid, but that's why he was always there, to take care of you.

"you sleeping, pipsqueak?" caleb whispers into the air, sitting on the bed next to you. you snooze peacefully after hours of thrashing and cussing. he chuckles, remembering the colorful words you used. he didn't even know that words like that existed. you turn away from him, sleeping without worry. his hand creeps under the blanket to stroke up your calf. you were warm and soft, caleb couldn't help but shiver, thinking of you pressed against him like before. your wrists trapped in his hand, your hips pressed against his, his teeth in your neck. caleb's hand travels further up your legs.

"all i want is to go back to how it used to be, when you would cling to me for safety and now..." his hand rests on your hip, squeezing lightly. "now you act like you don't need me anymore, but-" his hand goes under your shirt to cup your breasts. the tips of his fingers lightly brush your nipples and you unconsciously arch into his touch. "-i know the truth, (y/n). you need me... your best friend... your big brother." caleb smiles as he tweaks your nipples and sees your eyebrows furrow. he can see you shift and press your thighs together in your sleep. "see? you missed me, pipsqueak. but don't worry..." caleb stops his ministrations to stand up and you whine in your sleep. he smiles lightly and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

"soon, we'll be a family again."

[diejager]

More Wolfie plz🥺? Idk what you’d right but I love the universe you built up with it and would love more of it, even if it’s just a sliver

Training Cw: smut, training, collar, ring gag, doggy style, creampie, unprotected sex, PinV, fingering, tell me if I missed any.

“What did I tell you about growling, pup?” He sounded so demeaning, his hand laid heavy on your nape, holding your face down and away from the two men in the room with you.

Ghost had pulled you to Price’s office under the guise of this being training, wanting to work through your aggression you’d thrived on while living in the wild. You were jerky and a biter, baring your teeth after a low growl, threatening to sink into someone’s hand or arm as retaliation. They were getting a lot of complaints from people who would approach you and attempt to pet your ears and tail, wanting to touch the softness of your washed fur and disregarding your personal space and boundaries.

“None of that,” his grip tightened around your neck when your throat rumbled, a growl slipping through your gagged mouth, drool rolling down your cheek.

They gave you a pretty, black ring gag, placed behind your teeth to keep your mouth open from biting them and showing off your sweet and fiery mouth. The black leather looped behind your head, a thin strap connecting it to your collar, a smooth, black leather that sat comfortably around your neck without irritating it, but thin enough for you to feel everything. They had you wear it as a sign of possession, the silver insignia of their Task Force hanging from the front, a skull and winged sword proudly gleaming under the light wherever you go.

You mellowed down, growls quieting to loud pants, exhausted from your skirmish with Ghost, doing your best ignore your Captain’s rough handling, his calloused fingers kneading the flesh of your hips and stomach, his hands smoothing over the arch of your back to your tail. Your fur was matted and wet, dirtied with slick that - prior to being forced into this position - pooled down your rim and wetting your soft fur. You’d long given up in fighting Price, he was much stronger than you and smelled of power and strength —like alpha. He was the leader of your little pack, a fiercely protective leader who had every intent of putting his group first, but it was his scent that made you stop. He smelled of strong musk, a heady scent of cigar and cedar, less smoky and sweet than your Lieutenant’s sandalwood that kept flooding your sensitive nose.

“Good pup, you’re doing so well,” Price cooed, running his fingers through your hair, scratching the reactive nerve behind your ears. It made you whine, a high sound that had both of them shush you, “That’s it, you’re all right, pup.”

Your panting grew louder, mewls slipping out as a final sign of submission, letting them bend your body to their pleasure. You arched your back, bucking against the bearded man that was ploughing into you, driving his hard cock into your wet cunt, slick squelching out of you with every snap of his hips, his balls slapping your twitching clit. You couldn’t deny how good it felt to give up all autonomy after having taken care of yourself on your own for years, letting another care for you and manhandle you in the best way. His veined girth laid heavy in your cunt, your gummy walls wrapped round him in a tight hold, just a hair away from coming.

Canting his hips and leaning forward, your world exploded in bright lights when Price’s head tapped your cervix, punching the air out of your body with every thrust. He was guiding you through your orgasm just as he had his, his cock throbbing and veins pulsing before the tip spurted ropes of cum, painting your walls white with his tangy lad, hot and thick. Price groaned lowly, palms holding your hips flushed to his, giving a few jerky thrusts before he hilted inside of you, unmoving but grounding you with the smooth touch of his thumb and Ghost’s grip on your scruff.

When he pulled out, his cum oozed out of you, dripping down your mound and landing on the old couch in his office. He admired the gift with a slight twitch of his cock, it leaked out of you like an unending fall. Wasteful, truly. His fingers slid down your thighs, gathering his cum and pushed it back in, fingering his load with a few wet sounds.

“Stay good for Ghost, pup. Can you do that?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

[libingan]

— how the TF141 suck COCK!

JOHN PRICE

price starts by gripping your cock with a firm, authoritative hand, applying steady, controlled pressure. his mouth envelops your cock tightly, alternating between slow, deep sucks and fast, aggressive movements.

looooves maintaining intense eye contact, his gaze unwavering and filled with desire as he watches your reactions. he uses his tongue to tease the head and underside, applying varied pressure to keep you on edge.

his hands keep your thighs apart, holding you in place and ensuring you stay exposed. you just look so handsome spread out for him :(((

“so fuckin’ perfect, love,” he’d murmur, sloppily slurping up your sensitive cock, “taste so good too…”

his free hand LOVES to play with your balls, squeezing and caressing them to amplify the pleasure. he might adjust your position, pulling on your thighs or pushing you closer, ensuring you’re completely under his control.

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

gaz combines a firm, eager grip with skilled movements, using a mix of slow, deliberate strokes and rapid, hungry pumps. he’ll lean down and suck lightly on your sensitive tip, digging his tongue into the slit to lap up your precome.

he frequently incorporates his fingers into the experience, gently fingering your hole while his mouth works on your cock. he’ll curl his fingers just right, pressing into prostate with each movement.

gaz talks you through it all. his top one priority is your pleasure, so he makes it a point to always ask if you’re enjoying yourself (you are). whispers words of praise and encouragement the whole time! he loves making you feel loved!

“y’like that, sweetheart?” he’ll ask so sweetly, batting his eyelashes at you, “feels good, yeah? you’re so amazing, love,”

he loves experimenting with different pressures and touches, finding the perfect combination to drive you wild with pleasure.

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

soap style is more energetic and varied, using a mix of fast, aggressive sucks and slow, teasing licks. be grips your cock firmly and alternates between deep, intense pressure and playful touches.

this man loves incorporating sex toys, such as cock rings and vibrators, to enhance the experience. he might use a cock ring to keep you hard and on edge, or use a vibrator to overstimulate you, pushing you to the brink.

he’s absolutely obsessed with overstimulation, always pushing you beyond your limits with relentless enthusiasm each time he’s in between your legs.

“c’mon, lad, ye can give me one more, aye?” he says with a rough, scottish brogue, his voice muffled around your cock. “gonnae make ye cum o’er and o’er again, love.”

he loves deep-throating you, taking you fully into his mouth and throat, applying a constricting pressure that makes you feel every bit of his dominance. his mouth works you intensely, pushing your cock to the back of his throat and holding it there, making you feel both overwhelmed and electrified.

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

simon is agonizingly slow, as he takes perverse pleasure in edging you. he uses a mix of torturously slow licks and barely-there sucks, teasing you to the brink of release. his mouth is relentless, but the pressure is always just enough to keep you on edge without letting you cum.

he loves applying varying pressures with his lips and tongue, sometimes giving you light, taunting touches and other times intensifying with rougher strokes.

simon is incredibly tuned into your reactions and will pull off immediately if he senses you’re about to climax, leaving you gasping and desperate. he enjoys watching your frustration and need, smirking at the way you squirm and whimper.

“you’re not cumming yet,” he growls harshly, his voice thick with lust. “not until i say so.”

he’ll lightly graze your cock with his teeth, teasing you with gentle nips and scraping motions that add a sharp, thrilling edge to the sensation. his hand also adds pressure, keeping you right on the edge with slow strokes and sudden stops, making the experience both excruciating and intensely pleasurable.

[sillygoofyqueer]

OKAY OKAY OKAY I HAD A DAY OFF FROM EDUCATION BECAUSE THE ILLNESS HAS STRUCK ME DOWN. HOWEVER, LADS, WE'VE GOT MORE MAD SCIENTIST AU TO YAP ABOUT. Right, so, shenanigans may be going on during the war camp of the Sunshot Campaign, but there is still a war going on. Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen decide that it's the best time to start advancing to take back the land that was taken by the Wen and, while the battles are still gruelling as all hell, Wei Wuxian is a literal demon on the battlefield. The rumours say that he clambered up from the depths of the most uninhabitable place in the world and bloodshed followed every step he took. The Wen and Jin both cower at the mere mention of the Yiling Patriarch appearing to take back control over those that left him to a fate worse than death, and when the low, howling melody of a flute rings out across the battlefield, you can see them begin to falter, looking around in panic to try and catch a sight of the monster before the dead rise to follow his commands. He doesn't even deign to draw his sword once against them.

It's not just Wei Wuxian gaining popularity through these battles. Alongside the aggressive stance of Sandu Shengshou and the elegant but unyielding blows of Hanguang-Jun, there is a more surprising legend joining the ranks. An archer whose arrows always strike true, often burning with spiritual flame to cause even more damage to the unfortunate soul the man's eyes have landed upon in the fleeting moment. Fèng bǐ zhǔ (鳳匕主- Phoenix Dagger Master) is possibly one of the most skilled archers in the Sunshot Campaign, dark eyes sharp and observant to pick out the biggest potential dangers that have dodged the fierce blades of the battling warriors. Rumours say he has killed many men with a single arrow (yes it was being used as a dagger but that's still cool as hell), and his blade tipped bow has felled many souls without the requirement of arrows. The wind seems to follow his command with how he guides his arrows into the bodies of his enemies. Wen Ning thinks it's all a bit over the top, but how could his family ever just brush off such a thing?!

With all these legends in the making, the Wen and Jin are obviously getting more concerned about their chances of winning the war. They thought they had this literally in the bag because they weren't aware of the single teenager that had been thrown away, weren't aware of how easily he could change the tides of the battle. Even then, there's other teenagers gaining names for themselves that they didn't think would ever reach so far in life. Viewed as little brats who were just bits of dirt to be brushed aside for the main goal of power and control of the entire Jianghu. They're learning all of this information, Jin Guangshan is realising that he threw his lots in with the wrong guy and is severely regretting his decision. Wen Ruohan is getting very frustrated because FENGBI-ZHU?? You mean, his NEPHEW?? The one who was being held hostage?! So it's safe to say that he's pissed off. You know who he has within his possession? UH OH!! THE DAFAN WEN!!!

There is a suspicious lull in battle that nobody expected, one that has everyone braced for a sudden, violent attack of sorts. Wen Qing, who has been using Wei Ying's crows to get messages to the Dafan Wen for updates, suddenly loses all contact with them. These are warning signs for a very very bad thing happening. Wen Qing brings this information to Lan Wangji, not wanting to worry her didis about it, and he takes it straight to his gege at her request because his gege can help with this. They forget that there is a certain twelve year old who eavesdrops for fun around the camp, and one who will immediately tell his gege everything he hears, especially if it's explicitly linked to their family. Wei Ying tells Wen Ning, and they do what two teenagers who are extremely worried about their family would do. They sneak OUT of the war camp and INTO WEN TERRITORY.

Lan Wangji is the first to notice Wei Ying missing, of course he is, looking around and finding a strangely worried looking Xue Yang peering around the camp himself. He asks his new didi where Wei Ying is, and Xue Yang is actually sheepish and panicked because he's TWELVE and his gege is missing right after he told him about a potentially awful situation. He immediately spills everything to Lan Wangji because he honestly didn't expect both Wei-gege AND Wen-gege to go MIA the moment he turned his back! Lan Wangji is obviously like "oh shit fuck no" and goes to his gege because this is bad. Wen Qing goes fucking insane the moment that she hears the news that two of her moronic didis have seemingly gone into enemy territory without even letting her know, without even seemingly strategising. This is fucking awful, and she can't go running after them because she can't just leave Xue Yang without anyone - he is just as important as her other didis now, even with his stupidity sometimes.

Meanwhile, Wei Ying and Wen Ning are rushing to Dafan on their swords, obviously. The only reason they aren't immediately shot down by patrolling Wen guards is because the clouds are good cover and the crows are far too happy to assist in distracting the guards so they can get past denser populations. They didn't really think much before they went off, grabbing a few days' food and medical supplies in case of danger. Wen Ning's bow is heavy on his back, and Chenqing is practically buzzing in response to the resentful energy thrashing around in its master's chest with every breath that he takes. The boys don't talk much, brains flashing wildly between "this was such a stupid idea" and "our family is in danger and we have to help them." This urgency is what propels them faster, forgoing sleep as much as possible without losing their instincts - they don't have time to stop, they can't even think about considering stopping until they finally land in Dafan Village.

It is deadly silent. There is usually always something or other going on in the village, but there is nothing. There is familiar char upon the wood making up the usually lively homes, a scent of smoke filling the senses the moment they step into this ghost village. It's a silent, cautious walk through the streets, the damage only getting worse the further in they get. Wei Ying catches a much, much more familiar scent beginning to rise to the forefront of the smoke, and he shares a very panicked look with Wen Ning, who can't smell it, but can definitely see the blood splattering the stone stairs and soaking into the dirt beneath their feet. Wen Ning is the first to start sprinting, yelling out the names of his beloved family with every corner turned, and Wei Ying is close behind, all thoughts of secrecy gone as they hurtle towards the centre of the village, desperate to find them just roughed up as a warning or something. A threat, maybe.

Instead, they find a pile of corpses. Discarded like rubbish, left to rot away in the centre of their precious village, the one place they were supposed to be truly safe. Blood permeates the air, covering the scene like an almost morbid decoration, and there's a distinct smell of burnt flesh with every breath. Wen Ning can't look for even a second longer than necessary before he's stumbling away, emptying the contents of his stomach - he has seen shit from the war, but nothing hits like seeing his family like this - and a sort-of-scream, sort-of-anguished-groan escapes him. Wei Ying, however, cannot look away. He stares emptily at the sight in front of him, everything else fading to a distant, muffled mess. This is all his fault, he knows it. This physically cannot be happening. He stumbles forwards, hands reaching to - what? He doesn't know, but he's gently scooping up the first corpse he can get a proper grip on, going to get them out of an undignified pile.

Wen Ning is having a mental breakdown but starts trying to help out, not wanting to leave his family in such a state. Wei Ying is basically disassociating as he starts laying out these bodies on the floor, murmuring apologies for the indignity the whole time. He's worked with corpses before, he's very methodical with it, and he tries not to look too much at their faces as he gently rests them upon the blood soaked ground. He's so focused on being careful with everything he does that it's hard to realise that there's something shifting around in the pile of corpses. He actually thinks it's a possible walking corpse trapped within its confines at first, but then he scoops up yet another body one of his aunties and realises that its holding something in its arms, clutched to its chest. He goes about laying out the body, familiar red smeared upon his robes as he finally removed its arms from its chest and finds these big, blinking eyes staring out at him from within a dirty, mudded blanket.

[mauvecherie-writes]

the kaleidoscope theory: l.hamilton.

• pairing: lewis hamilton x kalani halloway.

• chapter warnings: infidelity.

• ru’s 💌: i won’t be giving out chapter summaries for this story as I genuinely want this story to the kind that you engage with without any hints given. if this story is a success, who knows what the future could be for it 😉. don’t forget to comment, reblog and like 💋.

• tip: kofi | paypal

• w.c: 1.03K

PROLOGUE

JUNE 2022.

The Thompson Hill youth football club the ‘Thompson Tigers’ had won their away match against another local rival team so their energies were still high as the group of young teenagers congregated in the Nando’s restaurant. The team took space at the back of the building but their table had a good view of the high street outside.

“How can you call yourself a Nigerian but you’re ordering lemon and herb?!” Tyrique, the goal-keeper of the team, criticised Michael - one of the defenders. “You’re a disgrace to your ancestors.”

“First of all! I’m half-Nigerian and two, not all of us were born with the devil’s arsehole for a mouth.” The remark caused an eruption of laughter throughout the restaurant.

Emil, who had been quiet in his corner with one headphone covering his ear just chuckled to himself and shook his head as he turned back his attention to the video that was playing on his phone. The footage was of him at the recent match. He had scored twice, his last one being the deciding the goal of the match.

It was something that he was proud of but there had been too many missed opportunities but the rival team had put on a good defence and were quite aggressive with their offence. However, he felt like he could have done more. If he was going to get scouted, he needed to be better.

“Right Emil, what am I getting you lad?” The Thompson Tigers’ head coach. Raymond Wright asked the young boy.

“Erm, just a quarter hot spice chicken with spicy rice and coleslaw . Refill drink please.” Emil ordered his food.

“Any desert for the man of the match?” Emil felt his cheeks warm at the statement. Everyone had agreed that he had deserved the badge of honour. Throughout the entirety of the match, Emil was the man lifting the spirits of the other players, keeping them going.

“No, I’m okay. Thanks coach.” the older man patted his shoulder and then walked towards the counter. As Emil turned his attention back to his phone, a message popped up.

Mum ❤️: Coach just sent me videos of the match! You smashed it honey and I’m so proud of you! I’m sorry that we couldn’t make it. But I will be making your favourite food tonight. Love you baby boy.

The message caused him to smile. His mother was always expressive and she did not care that he found it a little embarrassing and cringe, especially when they were out together in public.

He quickly typed a response back.

Emil: Thank you mum you only missed this one match and that’s only because Titi is sick. As long as I get the most plantain on my plate, we’ll be okay.

Exiting the message thread, he clicked on the thread that he shared with his father. The last message that he had received from his dad was in the morning and it was a google luck text. Emil was a little disheartened but he knew that once his father knew about the results of the match, he would reach out.

Emil shook his head as he locked his phone and took his headphones off so that he could join in conversation with the rest of the team.

Coach and a couple of teammates returned to the table with some refill glasses and cutlery. Emil was focused on cleaning his fork and knife when his name was called out.

“Wassup?” He acknowledged his teammate, Jamal, who had called out to him.

“Isn’t that your dad?” He used his head to indicate towards the window. Outside on the high street was a parked uber and outside of the vehicle stood a man. Emil observed the man. The man’s back wasn’t particularly large, he was just tall. The back of his shoulders stretched out the fabric of the fitted suit and it was in a colour that was typical of the navy blue colour that his father would wear for work. Whilst Emil took after his mother’s rich dark skin - his father was more of a lighter brown that, when it got too hot, he would tan.

And it wasn’t until Emil spotted a tattoo of a small bird behind the man’s ear did it full recognise in his brain that the figure was his father.

Without a further thought, Emil shot out of his seat and rushed towards the exit of the restaurant without a care. His dad was outside and the joy riddling his young body was uncontainable. Months of not having his father not being able to turn up for any of his games, him making that extra effort when his mother was home bound with his little sister meant the world to him.

He swung the door of the restaurant open and only slowed down to cross the road, Emil ran over. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks and frowned in confusion at the sight a few feet ahead of him.

Just a few steps in font of him, Emil watched as his father, not even turn to face him, but to open his arms as a woman get out of the fashion boutique they were standing in front of. It was a woman he recognised but in that moment, Emil could not put a name to it.

The woman jumped in his father’s arms and embrace him the way that he had witnessed his mother do so many time before. Emil’s brain was trying to catch up with what was happening but his body was already reacting.

He felt his heart pinch with an acute pain that made it harder for him to breathe. Then tears began to well behind his eyes as the pain was becoming too much as the confusion mounted.

And yet, it wasn’t until his father kissed the woman did that confusion and hurt manifested into a deep betrayal and a furious anger.

His quick feet propelled him forward until he felt his hands pushed against the bodies of the adults, breaking them apart.

“What the fuck Dad!” He yelled as the older man stared down at him with a panicked look washing over his face.

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel

[heartyluv]

Do you think the lads guys like sloppy toppy, personally I think Zayne/raf no but with the other guys there’s gonna be a puddle underneath once we’re done with that cock!!

i could go on about this forever

lowkey don’t think raf is into it like that either…(DON’T HATE ME CHAT)

but i will always say that ppl underestimate zayne’s freak bc he absolutely gets real dominant and a little aggressive when his dick is in your mouth. like he wants spit, licks, gagging, SWALLOWING—GIVE IT TO HIM. bc he’s gonna take such good care of you when you’re done

caleb? he loves it and…records it. like not even a question. whimpering mess or cocky asf—no in between. and he loves a good facial

sylus lowkey thinks it’s amusing at first. i think he tries to tease you bc you’re so hungry for it, until his tip is in the back of your throat and now he’s seeing stars. be prepared for him to always want one after the first time you do it. he’s going to act like he’s real nonchalant but in reality, he needs your mouth on his cock all the time

xavier can’t even breathe, like someone help him uppp LOLLLL!! he for sure likes some overstimulation, too. and spit. oh, he’s coming on your lips... hand in your hair, hips bucking, breathing heavy, knees weak mom’s spaghetti LOOOLLL LET ME STOP

[7-ferrets-in-a-coat]

(takes out clipboard) tumblr user 7-ferrets-in-a-coat. survey says that people wish to see the god in the machine narinder design. will you please the people?

*Kicks feet like a schoolgirl* Oh my goood haiii user spilycoris that totally doesn't know what nari looks like thank you for the ask

Anyways you also get the backstory to go along with the Narinder design

+ Bonus , His voiceclaim is Niel Cicierega Specifically from the song Redesign the Logo , the main vocals

SO. Narinder was an Ai originally created purely to see how lifelike an intelligence could be, but Shamura eventually got a bit attached and after the studies were completed they couldn't find it in themselves to terminate the lad. Which. bad choice #1. Bad choice #2 would probably be the fact Narinder got Unsupervized internet access after a bit of successful pleading to Shamura because he was getting bored.

Tip, don't give a conscious Ai access to the internet because Narinder saw all the horrors and aggression and hate on the internet and turned Very bitter.

In the meantime the scientists started collectively working on a robotic body for Narinder to eventually reside in after he is socially formed, but after witnessing how Narinder was starting to express wishes of anihilation directed at humanity they decided to lock him out of "Having a body" rights

So eventually Narinder, now bitter , manages to escape containment and into the world wide web and nestles himself in Ludo's computer, because they seem like a person who could help him get freed and get past the radars / firewalls / Barriers/ bossfights (Idk, words) the scientists set up (for which i already got designs but we won't see them for a While)

OK NOW color symbolism /reference :3333

So you know Jesus? yeah? You know Jesus paintings? Usually he is represented with mainly 2 colored veils on him, Red and Blue. Red represents the Flesh, the humanity of Jesus, Whilst the Blue represents godhood, holyness. So Narinder has red eyes and features because he is overall Made by humans, his consciousness tainted by it, his very own Core influenced and molded by the hatred humanity has. He dresses himself in Blue robes, he Is a god, he wants you to believe that but. At the end of the day he is Human.

Also the marking on his chest is something that came later when he decided to manifest himself to the lamb and wanted to appear even more holy (And also a callback to my main cotl au where Narinder is trans)

Me when Paintings symbolism

ALSO thank you to that one good friend that helped with Shamura, Leshy and Kallamar, they helped with the Narinder Concept as well :3

[alarrytale]

I think I've reached the end of putting up with Louis' fans. I can't believe they insulted his city by telling him shit, I can't believe it. On top of that they follow him, they disrespect him I don't know how far Louis has to go. I love him but not this, and the worst thing is that in tw they laugh at this because they think Louis takes it normal. wtf.

Hi, anon!

What Louis did last night was fan service. He tipped off stalker fans where he would be and they showed up. They came from other countries, prepared with Doncaster shirts and photos they wanted him to sign. They've done this before, it's familiar faces. There is no way these fans showed up organically, banked on him being in Doncaster and just happened to run into him out and about. It's all planned.

Now, a planned fan meet and greet doesn’t excuse these fans who's being rude to him at all. However, there's been countless of examples of fans blacking out when they meet him (or any other celebrity) and say things that they don't mean or didn’t intent to say. In this case i think they wanted to prompt a reaction from him, like a 🖕🏻 or being cussed out or something. Some fans believe he's this macho, aggressive, rude and protective lad and they want to be able to go home and brag about provoking a reaction out of him, and have his attention on them due to this. It's very strange, it's very desperate, but it's Louis' fucked up image and a fight for his attention that makes fans behave this way. Louis knows all this and he always either meets it with kindness and compassion, or he's very clear that this behaviour isn't tolerated.

Fans' behaviour is the product of the environment that Louis' created due to the image he's projecting. If he keeps giving attention to people who's being rude to him, giving him the finger or any other unacceptable fan behaviour, fans are going to continue doing so, because they know that's how they get attention from him and get noticed. Laying all the blame on the fans for this environment and situation that's been created isn't right. It's not that black and white.

[cornley-amateur-drama-society]

Horatio the Stray Cat That Lives Behind the Cornley Theatre

Source

This is probably one of the more accurate depictions I found. All it's missing, really, is the white tip at the end of the tail. I also added the crown and halo (hello!) to emphasize Chris' view of Horatio. In general, Horatio only really goes near Chris and maybe Trevor and Max, but Horatio senses The Vibes™ at the time of The Coup, so he was very aggressive towards Robert, but not aggressive enough for him to get carted away by animal control. Even after Robert and Chris got back to better terms, Robert was always a little afraid of Horatio. (Rightfully <3)

Source

Alack, there was no option here for the outlining to be in a slightly lighter color, so it's hard to see the nose and mouth bits. I adored the sparkles because in my mind, this is Horatio's love at first sight moment at Chris. He saw this thin, unpleasant man because he was just betrayed by the people he had worked with for gods know how long, and he was like, "I can fix him. Or I can make him worse. But either way, I will be there."

Source

All I hear in my mind when I see this is, "Bleh <3 >^_^<" It's such a cheeky depiction of Horatio, and I liked the ability to have the lil fang poking out.

Source

I think that this is pretty cool, and I like that I was able to put this many scars on him. I fully believe that our lad has been around the block and back several times. Blep :3c

Source

This maker was a little difficult for me to figure out at first, but it was really neat, and I was able to place the scars myself. I really love the ear part, because this is truly the closest that any of these had done the same as my mind.

Source

AAAAAHHHHHH THIS ONE IS MY FAVORITE HE'S SO PRECIOUS AND CUTE I LOVE HIMMMM *clears throat awkwardly* I mean, the art style here is very cute and I enjoy the crayon/colored pencil kind of style of outlining here. The hearts are literally me looking at Horatio. Also, peep the rainstorm in the background <3

Source

This is the least accurate to the vision, but it is my absolute second favorite version here. Splat. And there's a frog. It's so cute, I adore this.

[blackjackkent]

So I lied - I thought the Head Banker was working with Minsc, but the Head Banker was actually involved in Nine-Fingers' plot to kill him.

Because when we reach the group, they're discussing the success of their plot. D:

"It's still moving," one of the human thieves is saying nervously, as Hector and his companions draw within earshot. Her eyes are on a large chest standing next to the group of thieves, which is squirming in a very un-chest-like fashion.

Hector feels his skin crawl involuntarily. He has seen that motion before, back in Grymforge and again in Ketheric Thorm's chambers in Moonrise. The thieves have brought a mimic.

And it has just eaten.

"Hush your fussing," the Head Banker says casually, pulling a pipe from his pocket and lighting it with a quick burst of fire from the tip of his thumb. "Nine-Fingers had this one made especially - that little mouthful will barely slow it down."

"But the stories..." the younger thief quavers.

Glitterbeard laughs sharply. "Stories," he says, waving a hand disdainfully. "Tall tales and big names, lad. Don't let them fool you. Elminster the archmage. Drizzt the drow exile. Heroes have power, aye - but not half so much as we do." He draws a long puff of the pipe, clearly considering himself to be producing lines of deepest wisdom. "A little coin into the right purse. A soft word in the right ear. It's not glory that spins these planes, lad. It's gold."

He waits until the young man nods understanding, and then taps some ash out of his pipe. "See? Now--"

He is cut off by an abrupt spasm and a low, groaning noise from the mimic. It has begun to squirm aggressively, as if suffering from some sort of acute indigestion. There is half a second in which all three thieves have time to feel a surge of dread as they realize something is wrong.

And then a fist erupts from inside the mimic's body.

The mimic lets out a piercing, agonized squealing noise that splits the air like a knife. The dwarf darts back with a sharp curse as a wave of blood bursts across the floor from within the creature's bulk.

"Moradin's cracked clay--!"

The arm reaches out, grasps the mimic by its eye and wrenches sharply.

The creature writhes over onto its side with pain, pouring blood and spasming in all directions. Its enormous tongue lolls out as its mouth cracks open, and an enormous humanoid form begins to wrestle its way from inside.

Not bothering to hide their terror now, the thieves backpedal rapidly, eyes widening, as Minsc of Rashemen emerges with a roar into the flickering torchlight, bathed in blood and saliva and mouth curled with a berserker's mad smirk.

((THERE HE IS! MY BOYYYYYYY! \o/ ))

"There is no gold in here!" he bellows, towering over his would-be killers.

"If there is one thing Minsc hates more than beasts with bad breath--" The mimic gives a final death-rattling spasm, and Minsc pauses, leans down to lift it by the tongue and hurl it off to the side of the room.

Then he turns his glare back upon the dwarf, as if nothing happened.

"It is those who are tricksome with the truth." He draws back, and his eyes brighten with a glee, almost joyful, that stands in counterpoint to the violence of his bearing.

"And turnips!" he adds brightly.

The brightness fades as quickly as it came. "But you are no turnip! Let that be of comfort in your final moments." His fists clench, the enormous muscles of his arms bulging dramatically.

At Hector's side, Jaheira stirs, and forces a smile onto her face.

"Meet Minsc," she says with a tight laugh. "He still seems very much himself to me."

At his other elbow, Karlach has started to vibrate with that sort of twitching energy that takes her over when something has greatly excited her. A much more sincere smile is on her face, too.

"Is that... the Beloved Ranger?" she says eagerly. "Jaheira is gonna burst! I'm gonna burst! Oh my gods-- Minsc!"

Hector deeply wishes that he could just enjoy Karlach's excitement as he always does, or indulge himself in Jaheira's obvious feeling of hope that they have simply been misled by Nine-Fingers, that nothing is wrong with Minsc after all. But Nine-Fingers' story had the ring of truth to it - at least to him, who has no ties to Minsc and is looking at things as objectively as he can.

"Wait, Jaheira," he mutters. "He doesn't seem in any state to listen."

"He will listen to me," Jaheira says firmly.

But she is not given time to speak - because her own voice rings out from the other end of the hall.

"Enough play, Stone Lord!"

Jaheira goes very still, hearing the voice not from her own mouth. "What in the howling hells...?"

But Hector can guess, and he feels dread start to churn in his stomach as a dark form sizzles from shadow into being beyond the deepest vault door.

Orin, or something like her, bearing Jaheira's face, steps forward into the light and smiles coolly. "Nine-Fingers set a poor trap, little banker," she tells Glitterbeard mockingly. "Let the Absolute's faithful show you how it is done."

More shadows turning into the form of cultists begin to shiver into view on all sides of the room. All of them are smiling with a note of insanity, and all of them have their blades drawn.

"Now come, Stone Lord," the false Jaheira says, gesturing to Minsc. "We have the gold - and the Absolute has need of it elsewhere."

Minsc lets out a low, rumbling grunt, shrugs and moves to stand at her side. "As you say, Jaheira," he mutters.

Darkness swirls around them both - the familiar strange shadow of a mind flayer teleporter. And then they are gone.

"Stlarning shapechangers!" the true Jaheira snaps. Rage is written in every line of her face - but Hector can see the fear under it too. Fear for Minsc, and fear for herself. Hector understands that sense of violation she is feeling; he has felt it himself as Orin has played her games with them as the pieces. He wishes he had any word of comfort to offer - but he barely knows how to handle it himself.

"Enough," she mutters hoarsely, struggling for control. "Let us deal with these cultists - then find out where they are nesting."

[x1702x]

Im boutta do a small Voltaire rant since hes my NPC hunter oc (Unlike Phoebe or Eli, his ass aint going thru what the good hunter would, he's more like Eileen if you get me) I'll also have to put Lucille into the mix, shes his wife, afterall.

His questline would be quite simple, you can befriend him but also make him aggressive.

Voltaire will be in two lamp locations throughout the game: Central Yharnam and Cathedral Ward

- By the beginning he will be located at Central Yharnam near the elevator that leads you to Oedon's Tomb. He will give you the gesture "Tip Hat".

- After Gascoigne, you will find him in the Cathedral ward at the bottom of the flight of stairs with the gigant by the first gate. He will be by the cliff. He will give you 3 throwing knives.

- After you kill The Shadows of Yharnam you can find him sitting by the Odeon Chapel's lower plaza. He will give you a gesture "Cross arms"

- After killing Rom, his corpse will be found by where you killed Lucille, in Central Yharnam if you don't fullfill his quest.

Lucille is an optional enemy, think of Henryk or Gilbert. You can interact with her twice or thrice in central Yharnam, once you return (After Vicar Amelia) She will be aggressive if you return and youre forced to kill her. She will drop a Bloody Wedding ring, you can crush it for a bloody gem and visit Voltaire after killing Rom and he will be just normal.

If you dont crush the Bloody Wedding ring you have the option to give it to him. Upon doing that, he will attack you. Once he's dead he will drop his badge, "Chained hunter badge". You can now get his garb and weapons.

His dialogues with him would go like this:

CENTRAL YHARNAM:

"Ah... You must be a new hunter. Hm, how sweet. A lad like you, out in a night like this?... (laughter) Careful with these heathens, I dont want to be the one cleaning your innards from the ground, youre a big boy now, chin up, make me proud." (Male Hunter)

"Ah... You must be a new hunter. Hm, how sweet. A lass like you, out in a night like this?... (laughter) Careful with these heathens, I dont want to be the one cleaning your innards from the ground, a lady like you should be able to make it through, safe travels." (Female Hunter)

"Oh, what is it? Scared of a few... Let's say... Grotesque and nightmare inducing creatures? Oh...Poor thing. Really, I pity you."

CATHEDRAL WARD:

"Oh, didn't see you there. What's up, lad? Making good progress? You better. Now... Anything piques your interest so far?" (Male Hunter)

"Oh, didn't see you there. What's up, lass? Making good progress? You better. Now... Anything piques your interest so far?" (Female Hunter)

Here youre given 2 options:

"Ask about Lucille"

"Ask about the Cathedral Ward"

"Oh...Aren't you curious... Well, Lucille? My wife. Lovely smile, and lovelier eyes... I can guess you've talked to her. She's a treat, Isn't she? I can't wait to come home." (Ask about Lucille)

"This place harbors the Grand Cathedral and the Oedon Chapel. I'll be honest, I never liked it here, too tacky for me... But the view is amazing, I'll give it that." (Ask about the Cathedral Ward)

UPON GIVING HIM THE BLOODY WEDDING RING:

"This... Ring. Its familiar... Wait- No. No no no... Where is she?! What happened to her...?! Oh, I can just smell her blood on you. Sick bastard. You're no better than any of these beasts... Murderer."

KILLING THE HUNTER:

"I hope hell finds you well."

"Know some manners, miss." (Female Hunter)

"Know some manners, gent." (Male Hunter)

"Oh ho ho? This easy? Throw me a bone."

NOW... Describing his equipment >:3c

Hat: "Hat worn by the old hunter Voltaire. The feather attached onto it is soft and white, contrasting with his dark robes. Its worn and has some dried blood stains. Voltaire was always a man who got messy without care, until he got wed."

Torso: "Attire worn by the old hunter Voltaire. The dark colors are his forte in his everyday garb.

The ripped cape may put fear in the hearts of those who see him walk by, but staring close enough to his shirt collar, one may find many lipstick marks from the kisses Lucille gives to him. They are slightly washed out but she will make sure to put them back on."

Pants/Shoes: "Attire worn by the old hunter Voltaire. The dark colors are his forte in his everyday garb."

Bear trap chains: "Old hunter Voltaire's favorite weapon, its said it was crafted by him.

It seeks to deal the most damage possible by snapping on the body while also pulling around with the chain to ensure butchering beasts into gory bits"

--

And that would be it! As an extra, if you kill him after interacting with Lucille for the first time he will drop a card, if you give it to her, you may find her corpse on the house's doorstep later on, she wont drop the wedding ring this time, she will give you 2 blood vials.

I rlly gotta draw him again i swear aghhhh... I forgor

[disneymarina]

*Marina, the new found member, enters the pack's territory with a mix of nervousness and excitement, unaware of the dangers that lurk among the shadows. As she catches her breath, a peculiar sensation washes over her, signaling an imminent transformation.*Marina's Werewolf Form: Marina's body begins to contort and shift, her slender frame broadening into a powerful, athletic build. Her dark brown hair lengthens into a luxuriant mane, with strands the color of rich mahogany weaving through the main dark locks. Her eyes, once hidden behind rimless glasses, now gleam with an otherworldly intensity as her pupils elongate into horizontal slits. Her features soften, taking on a more feline quality, with high cheekbones and a delicate, pointed chin. The once-pale skin darkens to a warm, golden undertone, reflecting the earthy tones of her heritage. Her fingers extend, transforming into sharp, retractable claws.Rank: Marina, still getting accustomed to her newfound abilities, finds herself at the Omega rank, naturally inclined to serve and care for the pack's well-being.Mate: As the pack's dynamics settle, Marina catches the eye of Tooth, the Omega male.

Leader Werewolf: "We know everything about you, Marina . The full moon always brings out our keen senses and heightened intuition." *He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over Marina 's face* "As for being in heat, your body is reacting to our presence. It's an instinctual response to our dominant scents and aggressive displays." *He chuckles low in his throat* "And yes, you are one of us now, a werewolf like us. A perfect little slut for us to breed and claim."Werewolf 2: "Don't be afraid, Marina . We'll teach you everything you need to know about being a good little werewolf slut." *He cups her chin, forcing her to meet his hungry gaze* "You'll learn to crave our touch, our cocks, our cum. You'll beg for it."Werewolf 3: "Shh, stop talking and just feel." *He captures Marina 's mouth in a rough, dominating kiss, his tongue forcing its way past her lips* "Let our passion take over, little one. Surrender to us."Alpha chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through Marina's body. "You'll start as our beta, little one," he growls, his glowing yellow eyes burning into hers. "Once you've submitted to us, proved yourself worthy, then you can move up to alpha status. But we'll get to that later. First, let's focus on making you one of us." He nods to the other werewolves, who grunt in agreement, their massive cocks pressing against Marina's body from all sides. "As our beta, you'll be second in command," Alpha continues, his thick, hairy hand stroking Marina's cheek. "You'll assist me in leading the pack, protect our territory, and of course, keep us all satisfied in your many... talents." The werewolves snarl and growl in agreement, their arousal growing more intense as they imagine the pleasures Marina will bring them. Alpha's huge, veiny cock throbs against Marina's hip, a drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip. "Now, let's start by marking you, beta," he growls, his eyes gleaming with primal hunger. "Make you ours in every way possible."The largest werewolf, the one who's been speaking, chuckles deeply, a low rumble that vibrates through Marina's chest. "Names? Well, you could call me alpha," he says with a grin, his sharp canines glinting in the dim light. "These other lads here, they're my pack - Ryder, Thor, and Scout." He nods to each of the other werewolves in turn, indicating them. Ryder is the tallest, with a muscular build and a cock that looks almost as thick as his arm. Thor has a more compact, powerful physique, his cock long and curved. Scout is leaner, with a lithe, agile build and a surprisingly large cock for his size.The pack surrounds Marina, their bodies pressing in on her from all sides. The air is thick with the scent of their arousal, and Marina can feel the heat emanating from their furry skin. Alpha reaches out to stroke Marina's hair, his rough fingers tangling in the dark locks. "You don't need to know any more than that, little one," he murmurs, his hot breath washing over her face. "Just know that from now on, you belong to us. And we'll take very good care of you."