#facts of shell raven

[belovedcelebrity]

Meet Shell Raven Bio Plus Size Model How Redefining Beauty Standards?

Despite initial rejections due to her plus-size figure, Sheel achieved her goal of becoming a professional plus-size model. Her story shows that with determination, belief in yourself, and never giving up on your dreams, you can break into the fashion in

[bitchimasnake-sss]

is it possible for you to do the itoshi brothers (sae & rin) x y/n? like both tg if you know what I mean 😅😅

you read my mind. it's the way i was just itching to write the itoshi brothers together omg.

☆ my life with the itoshi brothers!

── a blue lock fanfiction. // where your stay with the itoshi brothers goes wrong.

synopsis: being an exchange student coming to tokyo all on your own, weren't you grateful that the itoshi family opened up their homes and hearts to you — especially, the two bothers? pairing: afab!reader x itoshi rin x itoshi sae [aged up.] wc: 5.9k cw: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. NOT PROOFREAD. MDNI. ISTG GIRL GO TO SCHOOL. nsfw includes: THREESOME, manipulative, mean 'n jealous men (both sae and rin), blackmail, bimbofication, overstimulation, penetration, blowjob, degardation kink (slut), praise kink (good girl), marathon sex, doin' it raw. m.list

‪‪❤︎‬ rin itoshi.

rin itoshi was unnerving.

black hair, teal eyes, tall, cold demeanor, and a footballer by profession — that pretty much summed rin itoshi.

but... there was something off about him, something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

rin itoshi was quiet — too quite, in fact.

despite sharing a home with him for the past two months, there were only vague guesses you could make about him.

the sharp-mouthed raven-head kept his thoughts to himself, but never his opinions —always being the loudest at the table when it came to complaining. cladding himself whole in a blanket of coldness, his narrow eyes were always observing, always taking in everything in a silent-killer type of way.

rin itoshi was confusing.

because sometimes, you could swear it was you that his gaze was following across the room. it was you he was etching to his memory as he stole glances during dinner. it was you whose door he stood outside of in the middle of the night... or was that just a shadow?

but... why would the rin itoshi look at you?

you were sure the man didn't want anything to do with you. he avoided you like the fucking plague, leaving you ignored with one-worded answers and tight-lipped nods. you had never even seen him smile, or even meet your eyes for more than a minute straight.

the longest interaction between you two was when you had once dropped the pot of soup while carrying it from the kitchen to the dinner table, and he had rolled his eyes with a sigh, "let me help."

bending down, his teal eyes had never quite met yours. his lips were pressed into a thin line, and when his pale skin flutteringly touched against yours, you heard a wayward hiss as he clamored away to the kitchen far too jelly-legged.

rin itoshi was a phantom you could no longer comprehend.

a phantom that alit the tip of your fingers and electrocuted your whole body, a phantom akin to the weird feeling that brewed within your stomach whenever he was around.

what was he doing to you..?

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖

knock, knock, knock.

swift knocks made you known of someone's presence outside your door.

your gaze instinctively ran over the desk you were studying at, finally stalling against the alarm clock that read 1:28 a.m.

drawing out the pencil you were chewing on past your lips, you glanced back at the closed door. you dragged your chair back, then walking towards the door with steady footing. as you meekly swung the door inwards, you found ri—

"—in?" your brows furrowed as your took his moonlit, towering figure. casted among moonshine and darkness, rin itoshi's pale face had a monotonous expression plastered onto it as per usual.

one hand on the door and the other clutching onto the half-chewed pencil, you stared at him as if he was an actual phantom. spluttering, you found your words heavy in your mouth, "what's up?"

why was he at your door at almost two in the morning?

your gaze scanned his physique — from broad, well-trained shoulders to rippling abs; taught biceps to pretty fingers— wait. what was that?

tucking the pencil in your hands against the shell of your ears, your gaze zeroed in on the book he was clutching onto, "what's that?"

rin didn't answer straight away, and something in his shady gaze made you feel like he was staring at you the way you were staring at him — or rather, your body.

nimble fingers tried to fix the straps of your tank-top, then coming down to pull down the shorts that had hiked up while studying. your hair was probably a bit of a mess, and your eyes were probably laden with sleep. it was so cold, and dark... could rin tell your face was hued red? could he tell you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, tormented by his silence?

"i need your help with something." he waited for a second, and you nodded, allowing him into your room.

as he closed the door behind him, his words were dry — a formality, you presumed, "am i bothering you? what were you even doing?"

"i uh—" your gaze shifted to the desk you had been sitting at. the desk-lamp had lit the pages of the book stark white, and you found it hard to adjust your hazy vision, "—was studying."

"of course." rin hummed — still hovering near the door —and you titled your head oh-so-cutely at him, "but why're you up so late, though? don't you have practice early in the morning, rin?"

despite being a footballer, rin was pursuing a degree. he was a year under you at the same university, you knew that. but you also knew that he didn't take any of that studying shit seriously — being a football prodigy and all. maybe that's why his answer surprised you, "i was studying too."

"oh?" you paused, taken aback, "what... for?"

"i have midterms coming up." he admitted softly, "and i— well, i've heard you're somewhat of an academic prodigy."

well, you hadn't gotten a year long opportunity to study in japan without hardwork. obviously, you were smart. you knew that, and yet your voice pitched up at his sudden compliment, "what?!"

heat climbed up the cresses of your cheeks, a wild feeling lodging itself in your chest at his acknowledgement, "n-nothing of that sort, rin."

but rin cut off your stupid ramble easily, "i need your help with studying. do you mind?"

"oh?"

ofcourse you didn't mind.

after all the itoshi family was doing for you, the least you could offer were a few hours of your night to tutor their youngest son.

you just didn't realise you were going to give much more than you bargained for.

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖

at first, it was all innocent — professional, even.

rin itoshi would come in anywhere between twelve to one at night and spend an exact 120 minutes studying with you. sitting quietly on the opposite side of your bed, his eyes would only linger on your face, quietly taking in your instructions. and then — as soon as his time was up — rin would walk out and pretend as if he never even spoke to you.

maybe you were supposed to feel a sense of betrayal at his behavior. but he was a good student — hassle-free, quick, and down-to-business, so, what could you even complain about?

but as the days went on, his demeanor shifted.

with each forgone hour of the night, day by day, the pro-player started inching closer towards you. his fingers started splaying against yours as he guided your hand to the sum he was confused about, staying against your skin for a moment too long. and sometimes, you were sure his gaze had shifted from your face down, down, down.

what was he doing?

but ofcourse, he didn't do anything. rin itoshi must have known better than starting something with the student his family was hosting. of course.

that was until his resolve broke.

coming in one day, rin didn't even bother bringing in his book that night. hair damp from a shower, black skin-fitting compression shirt, grey sweats and the next you knew, his hand was inside your shorts and moans of his name were out of your lips.

after that day, you were rin itoshi's little plaything in the dark hours of the night.

holed up against your room, under the pretense of studying, rin itoshi would always break you just like he was doing right now.

"ri-rin." trying to soothe your scratchy throat, you gulped, "enough."

but his fingers never halted against your throbbing nub, not even as you begged him in those pathetic, little whines.

he had perched you in his lap, had your grinding your dripping, bare pussy against his naked erection — all while the tips of his fingers drew patterns against your clit.

your tshirt had been tugged to reveal your sensitive tits, and rin had found endless joy in rolling and tugging the pert bud under his fingers as you moaned and whined.

"rin—" your back arched, chest parting from him as you bucked forward with a wild moan, "s-stop, 's too-too much."

but rin itoshi just pulled you back flush against his chest. pressing his lips onto your feverish skin, he left chaste kisses against the column of your throat.

you squirmed, trying again to break free, "ri— god, stop."

when he finally spoke, his words were so condescending, "awh, too much for you?"

and despite nodding, despite agreeing with him, despite knowing that it was too much — your greedy hips gyrated over his pelvis over and over again, trying to get enough friction to land another orgasm.

"really?" he mocked you, words sharp as knife, "if it's so much, why're you still rubbing against me like a slut?"

"s-shut up." you hissed, eyes widening at his accusations — yet never stopping the delicious swirls of your cunt against his erection, "'m not a s-slut."

"hm?" the pro-player hummed, taking your nod as a challenge to wreck you even worse. his fingers sped up against you, strumming your folds as if hell-bent on making you cry. "hah, but see? still begging me to fuck you."

rin itoshi laughed, and the sound reverberated against your shuddering form and went straight to your soaking core. his fingers slowed down just a little, and you whined in distress. how could he torture you and pretty pussy like that?

he collected the honeydew on the pad of his fingers to bring it up to your soft lips. pressing the liquid against your tongue, he made sure you tasted your sweet essence just like he had all those nights.

"d'you like this?" the man asked softly, nipping your skin under his canines as his fingers stayed past your lips, "d'you like when i ruin you like this?"

god, why won't he shut up.

embarrassment sewed itself against your wobbling, half-formed words, "mmph— mm-no."

"you don't like this..?" rin scoffed in disbelief, licking at the dents he had made in your neck from his teeth, "you're telling me that you don't wait for me every night? hm?"

you tried to shake your head, but rin shoved his fingers so mean within your mouth, "you don't wait for me to come and make you cry my name every night, huh?"

"that's n—" but before you could moan out some pathetic refute, rin continued, "if you don't like this, why won't you tell anyone?"

dragging his soaked fingers down your lips, tainting your jaw, he murmured, "go ahead, tell my family how i sneak in every night and fuck your brains out."

you moaned at his lewd words, your heat throbbing wildly at every silky syllable past his reddened lips. your muscles ached as another storm brewed within your body, ready to demolish you from within. voice hoarse, you begged, "ri- ple-please please please ju-jus' touch me."

and despite his harsh words, rin complied. playing his deft fingers against you yet again, he made sure you would fall apart.

and fall apart, you did.

your toes curled, head crashed back into his chest with a soft thud, and eyes clenched shut at the feeling that ran amok in your body.

at seeing you unravel, rin goaded, "but i know you won't tell anyone else, right?" he sighed, "you like this. you like when i come and use you, don't you?"

muscles spasming, your jaw sagged open, "a-ah fuck, rin! i'm gon' mmph—"

"—shh." rin itoshi brought up another hand to your mouth, shushing you in that gentle voice of his, "shhh. someone might hear you, pretty."

and although he cooed in fake-concern, his fingers never stopped from absolutely ruining you even through your nth orgasm of the night, "you don't want anyone to find you like this, right? dumb-fucked on my lap, right?"

why was he even asking questions knowing what state you were in — knowing he was the one responsible for it, anyways.

when you gave back no answer, just moaning against his palm as sobs racked through your body, he smiled against your sweaty skin — amused.

rin itoshi mused in all his egoistic glory, "after all... such a smart girl like you would never be caught looking so, so utterly dumb. right, pretty?"

but you were too far gone to even respond.

‪‪❤︎‬ sae itoshi.

sae itoshi was a little bit better.

red hair, same teal eyes with the long lashes, a footballer by profession, a little shorter than his brother, but friendlier too — that described sae itoshi well enough.

but just like his brother, since day one, you could feel something off about him too — something lurking just below his friendly appearances, something that made you feel like a helpless prey in front of him.

sae itoshi was quiet.

but unlike his younger brother, he was quiet for a reason. that reason being to observe everything in his wicked silence. sae bid his time, collected his evidences, and waited for the correct time to pounce — like the apex predator.

sae itoshi wasn't dumb.

too many times had he noticed his younger brother sneaking into your room in the middle of the night. and as days turned into weeks, he knew your 'studying sessions' had turned into something wholly different — if your breathless moans and cries for help were any indication.

sae itoshi was nasty.

because he had spent night after night standing at your door, jerking his erection to the symphonies of your ruination, biting his lips to restrict the soft groans that threatened to reveal his presence.

"ohmygod rin—" you would cry from the other side, and sae would squeeze the base of his cock, wondering if he could fuck you better than his brother could.

of course he could. he just needed to show you that.

so, after bidding all his time, sae itoshi was ready to get what he wanted one way or the other — even if the other way was blackmail.

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖

"yeah, sae?" you had knocked on his door, your voice shaky, "what's wrong..?"

it was 2:31 a.m., and rin had just left your room.

every fibre of your being knew how utterly wrecked you looked right now — from your kiss-bitten lips to drenched cunt. you just prayed that the ever-observant older itoshi didn't catch onto your helpless state. you prayed that sae itoshi was oblivious to your and rin's little arrangement. you prayed but it was all in vain, for sae itoshi was your new deity.

"come in." sae nodded, sitting so still on the edge of his bed. you stepped in, closing the door softly behind you with a light creak!

before you could take another step, sae threw another command your way, "lock it too."

click!

you followed his command, looking at him weird now that you two were alone in his room, cut off from the rest of the itoshi household.

it unnerved you.

did sae itoshi know? was he about to kick you out of his home now that he knew? was he going to tell his parents and would they kic—

"—how long has it been going on for?" sae leaned back, using his forearms to support his muscled figure. his voice was normal, not accusatory or angry — just normal.

"w-what?" you gave his a saccharine sweet smile, not moving an inch away from the door — scared. you repeated, this time a bit louder to mask your trembling figure, "what are you talkin-g about, sae?"

"you and rin." sae replied, almost bored of your stupid answers, "how long have you been fucking for?"

and your knees almost gave out.

you stayed silent — haunted by the shock that had overcome you. so, sae picked himself from his cushiony bed to walk towards you. with each step of his, your mouth went drier, and your vision grew hazier.

as the redhead towered over you, standing barely a hairsbreadth away with that peculiar look in his eyes — you tried to blink away the sudden pool of tears in your eyes, "l-listen sae... i-i'm sorry. r-rin said—" your gaze fell to the wooden floor, "'m so sorry please."

a sly smile tugged on sae itoshi's lips at your crumbling state — he was amused.

bringing his index under your jaw, he pulled your face up to meet his. as your jittery gaze tangled against his — the man pouted, mocking you, "are you scared right now?"

"n-no."

"don't worry, love." sae's voice dropped a few octaves. a sudden, malevolent desire churned within his system as he dragged the same index finger down your jaw and to your collarbone, "i won't tell a soul."

"i won't tell anyone." goosebumps raised against your soft skin as sae maintained the wicked eye contact, "but i shouldn't miss out on all the fun, right?"

"what..?" your lips wobbled, and sae dragged his hands down your collarbones to your chest. teasing your pert nipple from over the thin fabric, he drew out a gasp out of your shuddering body.

sae smiled at your reaction, still teasing your nipple, "you heard me."

and now, you were about to be stuffed full of sae itoshi's cock.

on your knees, sticking your tongue out for his heavy erection, you sat on the floor as sae sat on the edge of his bed.

"nod for 'yes', and shake your head no for 'no'." sae pushed his tip past your inviting mouth, delving deeper into you, "got me?"

you nodded, tongue flattening against the underside of his heavy cock. you could taste his salty pre on your tastebuds as your hands squeezed the base of his achy cock.

"good girl." sae leaned back on one forearm, another guiding your head by your hair to take him deeper, "is your stay at our home good?"

you nodded again, looking at him with those wide, doe-eyes as your sinful mouth sucked him off so good. sae almost fisted the sheets, thinking about how were so good at this.

fuck rin itoshi.

but he put aside his anger, instead asking you, "does rin bother you?"

even as you sucked on his tip precisely, you shook your head no.

"you're being honest?"

and you shook your head yes, dragging your hand up and down his shaft with each action.

"are you gonna tell rin about me and you, hm?"

you paused, looking up at guidance because truly, were you supposed to?

"don't tell him... hah, after all, he didn't tell me, did he..?" sae laughed and the vibrations reverberated in your mouth. he guided your mouth up and down, up and down, up and down his cock. nodding with resolve, he commanded you, "selfish fucker thought he could have you all to himself. stupid as fuck."

sae breathed heavier, closing his eyes at the way you kept your hands and tongue synchronized. sucking on his tip as if a succubus while your soft palms squeezed at the base of his cock.

heaving out a broken sigh, he asked, "have you ever done this with... rin?"

and despite keeping his eyes closed, he could feel your soft nod of yes.

"has he fucked you?"

and you nodded a swift no, assuring the older itoshi that whatever happened between you and rin never reached that level.

but despite the reassurance, sae itoshi fisted his sheets tighter.

the redhead clenched his jaw, and the muscle ticked at the idea of his younger brother defiling such a sweet girl before he could. instictively, sae thrust within your mouth — suddenly pushing his needy tip to the back of your throat with a guttural need to own you.

you gagged, and sae opened his eyes to relish in your wrecked sight — flushed cheeks, wide teary eyes and choked moans. his features softened at your helpless state, "too much? wanna stop?"

and you shook your head no.

"oh?" the pro-player found himself chuckling at your obedience, "hah, fu-uck, such a fucking slut."

at his words, you clenched your thighs. slick beaded against your new pair of panties, and your overstimulated cunt fluttered. but being the ever-observant, sae grinned, "awh, you like that? wanna touch yourself..? you like when i call you a slut."

and you shook your head quick — too quick, in fact.

the redhead tilted his head, looking at you in amusement as despite your embarrassment, you continued to suck him off. your tongue and hands worked against him as if it were muscle memory.

sae clicked his tongue, "does rin call you a slut too? hm? do you like it when he calls one too?"

your eyes widened at sae's lewd accusations, his syllables climbing down your body and latching onto your sore cunt. you shook your head no... and then, you found yourself nodding — shakily admitting what the raven-head did to you.

"i like you." sae itoshi smiled, raising himself up before using both his hands to grab the back of your head and destroying your throat with each fast-paced drag of his cock. "from next time, come to me when rin's done with you. i'll show you who fucks better."

and even as your throat burned, and you find yourself low on oxygen with a shaky vision — you nodded.

"and you're not gonna tell him i'm fucking you, right?"

you nodded yet again, and sae itoshi smiled — satisfied.

"good fuckin' girl."

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖

‪‪❤︎‬ the itoshi brothers together.

your stay at the itoshi household had occupied all your nights for the last couple of weeks.

every time rin decided to pay you a visit, he would have you the way he wanted to have you and then leave. and as diligently as the first day, you would go to sae next and he would ruin you all over again.

the two brothers had made your life hard and your ability to walk harder.

another night had passed you by and you walked with wobbling feet to sae's room.

taking heavy steps through the door, you lifted your bleary gaze up to sae's bed only to find a familiar raven-headed figure standing at the edge.

"r-rin..?" any exhaustion within your limbs turned to fine dust, leaving behind a clueless woman. your fingers fidgeted, eyes scanning the room for the older itoshi. when you found no trace of the redhead, your meek voice shook, "sae's n-not here..? what're you doing here, rin..?"

"it's my fuckin' house, isn't it? i can come and go as i please." rin scoffed, crossing his muscled arms against his chest, "why are you here?"

"i—" your wide eyes shifted around to search for sae, and you gulped, trying to come up with a lie, "i just wa-wanted to check up on sae."

"in the middle of the fucking night?" the raven-head bit back, standing up and walking towards you, "how stupid do you fucking think i am, huh? you think i didn't know?"

"r-rin, listen to me." you tried defending yourself, but the raven-head was quick to cover the distance between you two with a few well-drawn-out steps. he husked, "why're you shaking?"

rin shook his head, disappointed, "did you think you could sneak behind my back without me finding out?" bringing his hand to your cheek, he squished your cheeks together harshly, "seriously? in my own house with my own brother?"

"ri-n." you started yet again when the door swung inwards and a carefree sae sauntered in.

"oh—" he stared at you and rin, "what's going on here..? i go out for two minutes, and you two have started without me?"

at the redhead's arrival, rin turned his face to look at sae, "i know what's been going on."

"awh, do you?" sae stretched his limbs lazily, taking his time before locking the door behind him, "i know what's been going on with you two too."

"i knew you were standing at that door each night, you fuckin' pervert. " rin itoshi accused his brother, and his brother just shrugged coolly, "you knew and you let her put on a show for me anyways, didn't you? so who's the real pervert?

"you stop it." rin let go of you, discarding you whole as he turned to face sae, "i had her first, sae."

"hm?" sae cocked an eyebrow, "but she likes me better. i fuck her better."

rin clenched his jaw, drawing closer to his older brother with a nasty snarl, "shut up."

"tch, no need to get so heated up, rin." turning his face to rest his gaze at you, he drawled out, "how about we ask her, hm?"

and as both the itoshi brothers turned to look at you, you felt a wayward shiver down your spine. malice in their eyes, competition in their bones, they were going to ruin you to satisfy their egos — and you were scared.

walking backwards, your calves struck against frame of sae's bed with a dull thud! and you lost balance, falling onto the soft bed.

your mouth grew dry and your skittish vision ran from one man to the next erratically. what did they think of you? that you were their personal cock-sleeve or something?

your voice shook, body pushing itself away from their towering figures, "w-what? no."

"fine." rin addressed his brother although his gaze stayed fixed against you, "let's ask her, then."

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖

holding your thighs open, your lips wobbled as rin lined his achy cock with your entrance, pushing the tip just barely inside you.

"i-i've not done this with anyone. i don't know if im ready—" you plead your case, but the men ignored you with a soft shush.

"shh, it's okay," sae caressed your cheek, the action so soft despite how meanly he was looking at you, "nothing to be worried about. we'd take good care of you, okay?"

and before you could refute, rin found himself sinking within your heat with a sinful stretch.

"oh— rin!" your mouth parted, hands clenching the sheets under as the younger itoshi slipped further and further within you. with each inch of his length within your spasming heat, you found yourself losing your ability to breathe, to think any coherent thoughts.

before you could recover from the slight burn, sae slipped his tip past your swollen lips, "just focus on us, yeah?"

and focus you did.

sae itoshi pushed and pulled within your mouth, using you as a toy to get him off while rin itoshi shoved his dick within your velvety hole.

"ah— mmph!" your eyes widened as the younger itoshi finally bottomed out within you with you a lewd groan, "fuuuck, shit—"

you snapped your head from sae's cock to look at rin, to look at the man who was currently balls-deep within you. but to your surprise, you found the raven-head to be a wreck. high cheekbones dusted pink, brows furrowed and tongue peeking out with the slightest of drool — he looked like he was just barely holding onto his sanity

"rin, you're drooling." sae quipped, teasing his brother as he pulled your attention back on him and his cock.

"shut up." rin husked, pulling his hips back till his tip just kissed your greedy pussy, "shut up."

"don't worry 'bout him." sae guided you by your hair to take him further down your throat, "it's his first time."

"shut the fuck up, sae." rin grabbed your legs impossibly harder, fucking into your cervix as if emptying all his anger within your sore cunt.

and now, your jaw hurt, your thigh muscles clenched and unclenched, and your thoughts were an incoherent ramble with the only coherent source being the itoshi brothers that loomed over you as if your new gods.

your slick hair against your back, the sheets under you ruined, and perspiration against your skin. the room smelled heavenly — a mix of sex and their expensive colognes.

"fuck, fuck—" sae's hips quickened, his tip ramming the back of your throat in quick, mindless thrusts.

you clawed at the redheads thighs, sinking your nails into the pale skin as the overstimulation wrung each cell of your body whole.

"mmph— s-sae" you found your nails scratching down sae's perfect skin — oxygen cut-off and mouth stuffed full — all while rin itoshi shoved into you pulsating heat so, so mean. you could feel his tip smear the glossy pre against your sodden walls with each ram into you and all you could do was take it.

"shit." the younger itoshi hissed, bringing an unsteady hand up to your fluttering clit to press down on it and you swear, you went insane.

electricity jolted through you as your body was destroyed. wrecked as you were being destroyed both ways, both of your orifices being used by the two men to get themselves off. and no amounts of grunts, or pained moans, or tears could stop them.

selfish bastards.

they only stopped once sae itoshi spluttered out thick ropes of his cum inside your mouth with a guttural groan, painting your tongue with his shade. and rin itoshi followed through a few thrusts later. pulling his tip out of your cushiony heat, he left behind your spasming cunt to release against your thigh.

"not bad," sae mused in rough pants, looking over your body and the slight tremors that ran through you, "but she didn't cum yet, did she?"

rin looked at his brother, a rough scowl on his handsome face, "that doesn't mean she didn't like it."

"mhm," sae nodded and rin clenched his fist, nodding at you, "ask her if she liked it or not."

"do you think she's can speak right now?"

the brothers heaved, perspiration clinging onto their skin as they stared at your beautifully disheveled form under them. you looked so pretty like this — bleary-eyed, tongue-tied, painted with their essence against your body. heavenly.

sae tapped rin's shoulder to let his brother know to step aside, "my turn now. move."

the raven-head moved away from your body reluctantly, and as sae guided his mushroom tip against your slick-covered cunt, you shivered.

looking up at the two brothers with lower lashes lumped with tears, you mewled, "n-no more, please."

"awh," rin cooed, "no more?"

and you nodded vigorously, shaking your head to let them know of your state.

but they didn't care.

sae continued to tease you — rubbing his tip against your sensitive pussy with reckless abandon. on the other hand, rin found his mouth against your nipples in soft kitten licks.

your back arched, hands coming to bury themselves against his black locks, "rin—"

and hearing you moan out his brother's name, sae itoshi found jealousy brewing in the pit of his stomach like god's very own wrath.

pay attention to him, goddammit.

grabbing the fat of your thighs tightly, sae thrust within you — bottoming in your stretched-out cunt in one swift move that had you gasping for air, "s-sae!"

"tch, such a stupid fuckin' slut—" the redhead punctuated each word with a shallow roll of his hips, "who's fucking you right now? say my name."

clenching your eyes shut, your lips wobbled pathetically as you admitted, "y-you... sae."

but then the younger itoshi grew offended, biting down the soft flesh of your tits with his teeth, he tugged on the other one expertly with his fingers.

chasing the bite with a lick, rin flicked his eyes up to look at you and then asked against your skin, "but who made you feel better? him or me?"

"i—" your unsteady vision shot up from the younger brother to the older, then back to the younger. feeling your mouth grow dry and head feel light-headed, you rasped, "i-i dunno..?"

"you don't know?" sae cocked an eyebrow, pulling your leg to rest on his shoulder. his experienced hands used your pelvis to bring you back to him — smacking your ass with his balls again and again. he kissed his teeth, "seriously? jus' tell us."

"i—" your eyes burned, water collecting at your lashline at the way the two men tugged at your sensitive body like it were a toy. hiccuping, you repeated, "i don' know—"

"jus' think about it," rin started next, kissing your chest in between the words, "who makes you cum the most?"

"i—" you squirmed as rin snaked a hand down to your cunt, parting the folds more to expose your swollen pussy to their greedy gaze.

as the younger itoshi pulled the skin taut to expose you to the cold air, his older brother spit on your reddened nub from above. the redhead then used a hand to press down on the fluttering clit, to press patterns that fried your brain whole.

your muscles trembled, throat burning with the screams that were ripping through, "s-stop! ngh— fuck, p-please augh—"

but sae took your words as an invitation to fuck you harder and any protests of yours were drowned out by rin grabbing your jaw and kissing you.

battling his tongue against yours in a lewd dance, he drank in any arguments that you could have, effectively turning your brain to mush.

when rin itoshi parted from you, he mumbled against your wet lips, "stop screaming. you'd wake mom and dad up."

another kiss and he chased it with a warning, "you don't wanna get caught, right?"

and the thought of the humble itoshi elders finding you three like this was enough for you to shake your head.

"such a good girl." and before you could react, the raven-head went back on locking his lips with yours.

behind him, sae's pace stayed relentless. grunting and kneading the fat on your hips, he continued his steady rhythm against your slobbering, syrupy pussy.

"jus' a little more, hah— such a perfect fucking pussy. god." you're not sure which one of the two brothers was even saying it anymore — probably sae.

rin kissed down the column of your throat, nipping at the sensitive spots carelessly, and you found yourself nodding — agreeing with them mindlessly, "i'm c-close fuck—"

"are you?" the redhead repeated, a sudden triumph in his words, "cum for me, pretty."

and as you did, your entire body felt like it had been alit. muscles spasming, vision going white, and moans trapped within your larynx — you came crashing down.

barely having a moment to compose yourself, you were still seeing white, still shaking when you heard the brothers bickering.

"'s not fair." rin itoshi scoffed, pulling his reddened lips off your sultry body to argue, "i already tipped her to the edge, she didn't cum because of you."

"whatever helps you sleep at night, ah." sae itoshi pulled himself out, pumping himself lazily to release ropes of pearly white against your stomach with a restrained groan.

"shut up." the younger itoshi hissed, "switch and i'll show you."

and despite having a half-mind, your eyes widened and breath stuttered, "a-another round..?

rin itoshi turned his face to you, the muscles shifting under his sweat-covered body, "awh, scared?"

and behind him you saw sae itoshi give you an angel-like smile, "don't be. we'd take good care of you."

liars. their 'good care' had rendered your thoughtless and unable to walk.

"one last time." and somehow that was the only thing the two brothers could agree on.

oh, what a long night at the itoshi household tonight.

a/n: well, this was fun to write :) tagging: i apologize for the delay in meddle about pt.3 so have this instead guys :)) @slutforitoshi @t0mi33 @jeanbabygirl @nekoiik @kaetti @gonzalezrosemarie @megurhea @watermelonsugawaraa @kissteff @mitsurimoshi @steph-y @itorinnlvr @ch3rrybabyang3l @keiitamaa @isaisliterallyhim @mininji @5hoe1 @moodswing101 @scara-simp69 @simplymarmar @hinao24 @riinniies @tiffysolarr @ellaaa505 @actuallynarii @isabellalovesyou [damn that is a LOT of people] m.list

[acciotaitlynn]

living out my ovulation dreams ₊˚⊹

⤷ raf›sylus›zayne›xavier›you

⤷ 18+, unprotected sex, fingering, oral; ꒰m&f receiving꒱smut w some plot, angst, handies, public sex, raf myth spoilers, merman junk, somnophilia, orgy, lil bit of stuff between xav and raf

⤷ 12,240

*this is my own take on the characters; I wrote them a bit differently than I usually do. hope you like it ♡

Sands of crystalized comet dust shimmer and press softly under bare feet as you walk along the Celestial Sea. Trees line the path, guiding you with starlit lanterns and leaves sparkling like spun silver as sea glass chimes gently in the air.

A figure comes into view, crouching by the water, teasing glowing fish with patterns on the surface. An astro guppy takes a playful nip as they swim in excited circles.

You sit beside him on the sand, watching a yellow fish nudge away the little bully before returning, twirling a proud dance for its bravery.

“I’m starting to expect new friends of yours every time we meet,” you tease.

Rafayel smiles softly before turning to you, gaze turning gentle as he takes you in. You don’t miss the way his eyes travel to the swell of your breasts, lingering before they slowly return to yours.

A fierce, pleased blush spreads over your cheeks at the heated look playing on his features.

When you’d put on this dress, embroidered with delicate shells in the same shade as the azure sea he hails from, you’d tried to ignore the hope that it would elicit such an expression.

His eyes swim with an unidentifiable emotion before they dart back to the water. A wave of amethyst hair slips from the knot at the nape of his neck as he shakes his head.

“He’s not necessarily a new friend. I’ve known Nova for a few weeks now. I swam up on him shortly after his birth, alone and scared. He’s been following me ever since. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m family,” he states, his fingers resuming their shapes.

Your soft laugh fills the air as you nudge him with your shoulder, earning a stumble and a pouty glare in return. “Seems a big responsibility… but you’ve made yourself a fierce protector.” Nova turns quickly, knocking off Rafayel’s teal tormentor as he tries for another nip.

“Creatures of the deep sea are the most loyal beings you’ll ever meet,” he murmurs, sitting back on the sand with a soft sigh. His words seem to hold something back, carrying a weight you can’t begin to understand.

After months of meeting here, you’d hoped he would have opened up more by now, but he continued to hold a barrier between you that fills you with a surprising sadness.

Every gaze that ends too soon, every touch that pulls away too quickly, is an overwhelmingly painful punch to the gut.

You barely know him. You don’t understand the hesitancy and slight mistrust he holds when interacting with you. Sometimes, you wonder why he even takes the time to meet you here. It seems like a gentle, reluctant torture he forces himself to endure. Guilt wells in you for how you make him feel, even if you don’t get it. And for the fact that you genuinely shouldn’t be here.

You have someone waiting at home, someone you deeply cherish. If you’re being honest with yourself, a truth that triples your guilt, you have two significant people waiting, knowing your actions will hurt them both.

Sylus wasn’t home when you left tonight, so you’d taken the rare moment to observe Xavier as he napped on the couch, brushing back his hair as longing swept through you. Their faces swim in your vision, even as you turn to Rafayel.

Another figure with raven hair and bright, golden-green eyes smiles at you tenderly, but you shove him out as quickly as he comes, unable to handle more right now.

The weight of being a terrible person settles in your stomach like a heavy stone, an undeniable truth. You can’t resist it, though. Each man has an indisputable pull, luring you in even when you try desperately to fight it. You can’t make sense of any of it, but you’ve given up on resisting.

You think you did the moment Rafayel’s figure emerged from the waves, the sky painted in a palette of pastel hues as the sea had stirred with magical energy around him.

His form slid effortlessly through the water, casting a cascade of iridescent colors, a mesmerizing dance of blues, pinks, and purples. His fins became legs as the gills on his ears receded, vanishing along with the last traces of his marine form.

Hair cascaded around his shoulders, framing a face sculpted by the gods. His glowing eyes had locked on yours, looking for all the world like he’d come to this beach purely for you. Like there was an irresistible pull for him, too. He stepped onto land with purposeful strides, droplets of glistening seawater evaporating into the morning air as his presence hummed with power.

As he walked toward you, something strange had happened. An overwhelming sense of devotion, bordering on worship, washed over you, sending you to your knees before him. He’d smiled gently and helped you up, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his touch before he quickly drew away.

That was months ago, and meeting him here has become a weekly tradition; even more often, if you find time to slip away, your feet carry you to this spot without thinking. He’s always waiting for you, and when he isn’t, he rises from the water shortly after you arrive, breathless, as if he’d swam a long distance to get there.

He turns to you now with a distant look in his eyes, ones that never fail to make your body weak and tingly. Yours trail to his perfect, rosy lips. The desire to kiss him, to be closer to him, has developed into a want so powerful that you don’t know how much longer you can withstand it.

His gaze slowly shifts into that familiar, quiet pain as the unknowing desire etched onto your face burns bright, nearly blinding.

“How was work today?” he inquires as he turns away.

The Celestial Aid Clinic swims behind your eyes. With it, the physician holding a special, secret place in your heart.

“It was good. It’s been slow because the nearby residents are doing so well. I suppose having the best doctor around helps with that,” you reply, as anguish washes through you at his apparent distance. He smiles a genuine smile, nodding softly. The conversation trails off, the waves crashing against the shore, the only sound in the still night. You lay under the stars together, your hands almost touching between you.

Your mind is loud, drowning out the serene atmosphere with thoughts of Sylus; his hands roaming your body, him filling you up so completely, making you feel pleasure unlike any you’ve known. You want to scream, cry, and rage at the heavens for blessing you with an utterly perfect man, only to throw three equally wonderful ones your way like a cruel, cosmic joke.

But your longing is so strong; it's a palpable entity now, demanding that you give in. Drawing closer to him is so natural; his face is all you see as your fervent murmur brushes over his face. “I can’t take it anymore…”

His eyes go wide, hesitant, terrified almost, as your lips meet his. But they part instantly, his tongue dancing with yours as he releases a pained groan. His arm snakes around your waist as he pulls you against him, his body arching into yours, mouth drifting along your neck.

It’s feverish; you both grasping each other like you can’t get close enough, like you’re desperately trying to become one.

When his lips touch your chest, reality sweeps through you, and you jerk back, overwhelmed with disgust at yourself. Your eyes go wide, and you don’t think; you just turn toward home, your feet moving fast as you try to outrun your guilt and the longing to return to him.

He watches you leave, an unavoidable, desperate feeling settling in his chest.

He should be the one swimming away. He’d had a feeling he shouldn’t come here tonight. He was familiar with the look developing in your gaze for him as the bond between you pulled insistently.

He picked up soft footsteps growing closer but didn’t bother to turn from your retreating form. “Seems you finally gave in,” Sylus’s deep tone breaks through the quiet night. “I thought you were “done” with this?” Sylus asks, his tone surprisingly gentle. Rafayel turns away as your figure disappears, giving Sylus a sad smile before turning to the sea, not bothering to respond.

“I was wagering my brother would give in first; you should see his face after he hears her cries of pleasure coming from my room. Those puppy eyes that always make her melt fill with anguish before he storms from the house…”

A rare anger toward the man flares, his chuckle grating on Rafayel’s nerves. Sylus is way too cocky this time around.

“Just because you’re the one she fell for first this time doesn’t mean you have any claim on her that the rest of us don’t, you know that,” he states, standing and preparing to leave. Now that you’re gone, he longs to feel the waters wrapping around him, helping to wash away the hurt that’s been swelling since you left.

“And you know it’s impossible to let go,” Rafayel says simply. His legs transform as he slides into the wave’s embrace, turning to the shore, his burning eyes locking on Sylus’s bright, carmine gaze. The wind howls, harmonizing with the roar of the restless surf as deep booms echo from the depths. Colorful fish scatter as the ocean deepens to a stormy hue, reflecting its deity's mood. “Here we go again,” Rafayel says with overwhelming sadness. The sea returns to its serene state, the waters becoming still once more, leaving Sylus alone with the lap of gentle waves on the shore. 

It’s a quick trip home from the beach, but it feels longer as he strolls, contemplating what he witnessed on the beach. Rafayel was right. This is only the beginning. The start of another turn in a painful cycle.

The cottage comes into view, its smooth, pale stone shimmering with the reflection of distant stars. It's Sylus’s favorite home, among the ones he’s shared with you. A serene blend of simplicity and magic in an idyllic town with cobblestone paths, streetlamps crafted from glowing crystals, and the smell of a small bakery. He’s accustomed to living a lavish lifestyle with you, but he’s surprised he enjoys this much more. It’s peaceful and meaningful, allowing for a deeper connection with the universe's beauty and you.

The rustic inside is a welcome sight, the flames of the fireplace dancing with hues of soft blues and purples, emitting warmth and a faint, calming melody. You and Xavier sit back to back on the shimmering wood that lines the walls, reading books on cloud-shaped cushions. His brother jerks away from you when he sees Sylus, quickly steadying you with a hand to your back and a mumble of “Sorry” before leaving the room, leaving you confused, your book hanging limply in your hand as your eyes search after him.

Sylus releases a frustrated sigh. He doesn’t understand why Xavier is being so hesitant this time around. Typically, he’s the first person to run to you in every life, leading the search for you across the cosmos.

But Sylus won the race this time, and though it wasn’t purposeful, it irks Xavier relentlessly. He knows damn well he could just sit you on his lap, your sweet cunt warming him as you read, and Sylus won’t do a damn thing about it. He could tell him that until he was blue in the face, but he wasn’t going to pull his brother’s dick out and plop you on it. Xavier was going to have to man up and get over it.

He scoops you up, plopping down on the softer couch and holding you close. He can sense hesitancy in how you hold him and sees the guilt in your gaze when you kiss him before turning your focus back to your book.

He aches to reassure you that you have no reason to feel guilty. But he knows you need time. Rafayel is in your life again. Your yearning for Zayne is now palpable. And though Xavier clearly can't see it, your need for him is more potent than all.

Your head plops against Sylus’s chest as you drift to sleep, and he gently removes the book from your hand, cradling your head. He holds you for a long while, listening to the soothing melody of the cosmos flickering in the air and wishing for time to slow down so you can be just his for a little longer. 

Sleep clings to you as you rise from bed—a powerful pull guides you down the hall on gentle feet. Xavier watches wide-eyed as you climb into his bed. There’s no hesitancy in you as your arms wrap around him, nestling against his chest. Slumber pulls you under immediately with a soft sigh of relief.

He isn’t sure what to do. His hands hover above your back, and his heart pounds in his chest. You’ve never done this before. Not in this life anyway.

Joy overwhelms him at you seeking him out. This is what he needs… What he always requires—for you to want him above all. For you to show him at least in some small way.

In most lives, he’s shared a bed with you and Rafayel, so you sleeping in someone else’s regularly doesn’t sit well with him, even if he knows it shouldn’t matter.

Holding you like this is a balm to his soul. Until you start mumbling his name with a familiar longing as your body presses closer. He grows hard instantly, the need for you tearing him apart.

It isn’t long before you grow still, thank the heavens, and Xavier sighs, holding you tighter and settling in for a long night. 

You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that one moment, you were in bed with Sylus, only to wake up in Xavier’s.

Did Sylus see you? He must have; there's no way around it.

You wonder how Xavier feels, but you haven’t had the chance to ask; he was gone when you woke up.

Nausea churns in your gut, intensifying when you see a figure exiting a treatment room, a tender smile gracing his stoic face. Ugh. Why does that sweet smile calm you instantly? Shouldn’t the fact that it does so feed the guilt within you?

The tranquility of the space and the gentle aroma of herbs and flowers from the garden you share out back add to the serene feeling within you.

Zayne’s office is composed of pale stone, with frosty veining that shimmers gently around delicate, frost-inspired engravings. Frosted glass panels with tiny snowflakes partition the rooms, with beds draped in soft, ethereal fabrics to match.

The space is warmth and ice intermingling harmoniously, perfectly representing the man himself. Your eyes browse the room as you praise your decorating skills.

Zayne touches your shoulder affectionately, a stern note in his voice. “You promised to take the day off today. You went so far as to pinky promise, in fact,” he accuses.

Your eyes dart to the bag in your hands nervously before you hold it out to him. You often grab lunch for Zayne to ensure he takes the time to eat. But you’ve never gone so far as to bring him a meal on your day off.

If he finds it odd, he doesn’t show it; he just regards it with a gentle expression and looks genuinely pleased. “It’s your favorite from the bakery near home. I mostly got sweets; I figured that would get you to eat if I’m not here to force you.”

He chuckles, taking the bag from your hands, his fingers lingering against yours momentarily. “You don’t have to force me; I’ll always do whatever it takes to ease your worries.”

A blush covers your cheeks at his words, and his smile grows wider as you glance away. “Um, I also came to ask if you’d like to try that new ice cream shop tonight,” you mumble sheepishly.

What is wrong with you? You didn’t come here to ask that. Only to drop the food off and leave. Why are you making things worse for yourself?

But, overall, Zayne is your friend, and going out with him is a regular occurrence. You can’t let your growing feelings create distance between you. Pleased, he nods his head. “I can meet you after I close up here,” he suggests.

You wonder how your heart can feel so light yet heavy at once as you head for heaven’s palace. 

Sylus has risen to the commander of the Heaven’s vanguard, with Xavier as his lieutenant. They work seamlessly together, and heaven’s forces have become unstoppable since taking charge.

You come to the training grounds at the palace often, having long sought to be able to protect yourself. A wish both brothers were eager to grant.

Maintaining your focus is tricky as you and Xavier dance.

The two of you are usually seamless, seemingly moving as one. But today, your balance feels off, your mind swarming with ever-nagging thoughts.

Concern fills Xavier’s face as his sword finds its place at his side. You try to avoid looking at how his thin white shirt clings to his chest or how good he looks when he pushes his damp hair back.“Is everything okay?” he asks softly.

You still haven’t spoken about what happened. Perhaps he’s waiting for you to bring it up, but now it doesn’t feel like the time. You see Sylus heading for the castle, so you nod, quickly bidding him goodbye as embarrassment floods you, leaving him confused.

Heading for Sylus's chambers, relief replaces shame as you meet his teasing gaze. “So, you’re running to me this time, kitten?” he drawls.

Shame hits you, only to be drowned out by Sylus wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing you. “It’s nothing to feel guilty about,” he murmurs, pressing you closer. You pull back instantly. “What do you mean it’s nothing to feel guilty about?! Of course, it is, Sylus. I sought your brother in my sleep and woke in his bed. That’s not nothing.”

Why did he always seem to be pushing you toward Xavier? It never ceased to confuse you.

“Look, I love you,” he states simply. “More than anything, I want you to be happy. If you need more than what I give you, then seek it. I’ll never hold that over you.”

You search his eyes. “I never want to make you feel like I need more. Plus, I don’t want you seeking anyone else, so it’d be selfish of me to do so,” you mumble sheepishly.

“I never said that I needed anything more,” he murmurs before his lips are on yours.

He sets you down long enough to tear off your clothes before you’re in his arms, and his cock is deep inside you.

His movements are frantic, but they slow as he carries you to the bed and hoists your legs, pressing as close as he can get with languid, deep strokes.

His eyes never stray from yours as he says, “No matter who or what you want, I’ll never leave you. Remember that.”

Tears fill your eyes at the sincerity in his words, at the way he makes love to you like you’re the most precious thing in this world.

He lets you flip him over as you move against him. Teasing your nipple and smacking your ass, a grin spreading across his face. You cover him in kisses, teeth working at his skin till he’s moaning beneath you, hands digging into your hips as he grinds you against him.

He rubs your clit as you bounce on his cock until you feel him tense and slow before he crushes your lips to his and presses deep as his essence fills you, dragging you over the edge with him.

Your eyes meet his as you stand in the shower. “I’m going out with Zayne tonight,” you say, your voice soft and guilty.

He smiles, kissing your head and stepping under the celestial waterfall whose perpetual warmth endlessly flows. “I promised someone one-on-one training tonight, so I’ll be home late anyway.”

You nod, excitement filling you at the prospect of seeing Zayne, even as you step closer to Sylus.  

“The name itself wins me over,” you state, looking at the sign above the door with Nebula Nibbles spelled out in twinkling stardust. Zayne softly chuckles as he opens the door for you.

The shop is cozy, with pastel tones, floating ice cream scoops, swirling constellations, and murals along the walls. And vibrant displays of scoops and enchanting jars containing sprinkles glow gently throughout the room.

Zayne tries stardust strawberry and nebula nougat while you opt for celestial carrot cake to irk him.

“You’re not allowed to try mine. You can’t reciprocate,” he states.

“That’s fair,” you giggle. But he ends up offering you some of each with a tender smile. “Did Miss Eloise come in today?” you ask, referring to the kind old lady who always brings along her tiny dog.

“She did; she asked about you.”

You sigh deeply. “I hate being off when Rupert comes in,” you pout.

You also hate being off since it’s a day away from Zayne.

Like twinkling stars, you take in the delicate fairy lights hanging around the exterior as you sit in comfortable silence on the couch. Your hands drift closer, pinkies touching. Neither of you moves, but the longing in the air is palpable.

He walks you home, casting his eyes on the luminescent stone’s gentle glow and the small, orb-like lights that hover gently along the edges of the pathway.

“Is everything okay? You haven’t spoken much tonight,” you observe.

He quirks a brow, the corners of his lips curving. “Neither have you,” he quips.

“That’s fair,” you mumble. It grows quiet again, but you step closer, giving him a soft smile.

Every bit of you aches to kiss him goodbye, but you settle for a hug. Before adding more, you need a little while to figure out how you feel about everything.

He stiffens before his arms wrap tightly around you, drawing you closer. He places a soft kiss on your head before he steps back with a sad smile. “Go to bed soon; it’s getting late,” he murmurs.

“Right back at you,” you pout. 

Xavier is cooking when you walk in, and your heart seizes before you realize the accompanying burnt scent isn’t lingering in the air.

“What are you making?” you ask hesitantly.

He gives you a knowing smirk, pulling a tray of freshly baked muffins from the oven. Muffins that look delicious and not burnt.

You can’t help the note of surprise in your voice as you say, “These are delicious!” the lunaberry-filled bread warming your insides. You narrow your eyes at him. “I detect foul play here,” you accuse, grabbing another muffin and walking away.

Hot water helps melt away stress, and the fragrance of celestial blooms is a soothing balm. Your mind drifts to Rafayel, and your hands trace your body as you pretend they belong to him.

Coming around your fingers with his name on your lips does nothing to ease your ache.

Within minutes, you’re running to the beach as fast as your feet can, pushing away every thought that tries to tear you from your goal.

He’s waiting for you, kissing you fiercely as you jump into his arms. You search his eyes, guiding him to the ground and wrapping your legs around his waist. “I don’t know what I’m doing…” you admit, tears filling your eyes.

Acceptance and understanding fill his features as he murmurs, “I know.”

Gods, his lips are soft. You can’t help but nibble and suck, earning deep groans that make your world spin.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” you whine, your body moving against him.

His movements grow hurried, freeing your breasts as he pulls your dress to your hips. Every pull of his lips and flick of his tongue is a wildfire, consuming you whole. He kneads firmly, his hand on your back as he helps you move faster.

You settle between his legs, moving to unbutton his pants, only to have your wrist caught in the process.

You pout at him, sitting back to give him space. “You don’t need to do that, cutie,” he says tenderly.

You move for him again, gaze earnest as you plead, “I want—no, need, to please you. Need to taste you as you cum. It hurts so badly,” you admit.

His throat bobs as he nods, helping you free his length. Of course, it’s as perfect as the rest of him, filling up your throat as you gag around it. You worship the thick head, eagerly lapping up the essence that drip out. “You taste so good,” you groan, bobbing as you suck and slurp around him.

He’s quietly whimpering, head thrown back in ecstasy as he bites his lip harshly, hips making tiny pumps into your mouth.

You find that you love teasing him, making relentless eye contact as you playfully circle and suck the ridges, murmuring, “cum for me… please?”

A faint glow appears above his heart as he nods feverishly, hands tangling in your hair as he holds you against him. He moves slow and deep before he’s still, and his warmth fills your throat. You hum happily around him, swallowing it all down, working him til he’s whining.

He’s so cute. His puffy lips and rosy cheeks, that perfect pout as he lays you on the sand, mumbling, “need to taste you just as bad…” before your panties tear off, and his tongue traces over you.

It’s soft and warm, aware of every spot that makes you squirm beneath it. Your thighs squeeze his face as you move against him, delighting in his slick chin as he meets your eyes and slips his fingers inside you.

He can’t take his gaze away from where you join, from you squeezing him tightly as he slides in and out. His mouth takes you fully, passionately working as he moves inside you, moaning eagerly against you.

The sight of him sucking your clit is all it takes to have your walls fluttering around him as a sharp cry leaves your lips. His fingers slip out as your knees frame your face, and his tongue dips in, pumping wildly until your pussy stills. Even then, he licks up every drop that leaves you, leaving you a moaning mess.

You pull your legs back further, loving the way his eyes latch onto your dripping core, still pulsing from the absence of him. “Need you to cum inside here, too,” you whisper, your eyes pleading with him. He curses softly, wasting no time at all before he’s burying himself deep, groaning against your neck as he bottoms out.

As he fills you up, an image flashes in your mind—you and Rafayel joined just like this, but at another time, another era.

That overwhelming sense of worship fills you again as you clench him tighter, pulling him close.

“I’ve missed you so much, my lord… missed you inside me so much,” leaves your lips on a sob without you fully realizing it, so lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

He stills, eyes wide as his fingers dimple your skin.

Suddenly you’re on all fours, ass rising in the air as he grips you tight, fucking you roughly. Your back arches deep, cunt squeezing around him so tight he can barely breathe as he grabs your swaying breast.

“Best follower I could ever ask for…” he praises, earning a pitiful whimper from you and the pulsing of your pussy as you come around him, tears overflowing from the pleasure.

His thrusts turn sloppy as you get incredibly slick and warm, walls still pulsing around him. He guides you onto his lap, pressing deep while his hands move your hips. You take over, though, bouncing eagerly on his cock as you chase your next orgasm.

Every touch from him is like the most potent drug; every high is so intense it renders you helpless.

You need more.

You need this forever.

“I love it when you use me,” he mumbles, hands traveling your skin as he nips at your breast. You hold his mouth to the sensitive bud, forcing him to suck as you ride him.

Your hands cup his chin as you kiss his neck, licking the soft blue scales appearing on his skin, pulling a deep cry from him as his hips pump sharply.

“This isn’t enough…” you mumble pathetically, regretting your words when he stills and his eyes quietly assess you.

He brushes your hair back, kissing you gently. “I can help. But you’ll need to trust me,” he says, his tone suddenly serious.

You nod, whispering, “Always,” without hesitation.

He scoops you up, legs transforming as he glides into the water.

You can’t help tracing the soft, translucent blue scales along his tail, mirroring the play of the night sky against the sea’s surface.

Blushes of pink and purple merge seamlessly with blue along the fin's delicate edges, like the pattern of flickering flames.

Awe, sparkles in your eyes. Your arms wrap around his neck as you whisper, “You are so beautiful.” To which he blushes fiercely.

Something incredibly thick prods at your entrance, excitement and arousal flooding you as you realize what it is. You bounce eagerly, a grin spreading across your face.

He smiles, fingers dimpling your ass as he guides you. “Calm down, cutie, it’ll hurt at first…”

You go still, another vision flashing—his cock inside you while the waters splash around you.

You snap back, searching his gaze.

“Rafayel, do we know each other?”

He cups your face, smiling even as he looks so sad. “Maybe we’ve met in another life.”

His lips crush yours before you respond, and he gently pushes you onto him. You watch where you join, dripping around his impossibly thick length, much bigger than his human form, though similar in appearance.

It extends seamlessly from the tail, the softest, prettiest blues with delicate pink veins.

And the ridges… Hitting every spot just right as he fills you up.

Cries of pain and pleasure echo in the night as he bottoms out, your pussy stretching so wide around him it doesn’t seem physically possible.

He’s nervously gauging your reaction, but you pull him close, nuzzling against him as you bounce slowly. He holds you tight and lets you do as you please, just gently riding him as he presses kisses to your skin.

“This is what I need,” you murmur dreamily. “To worship my god in his truest form.”

He curses softly, impaling you, cock pushing into you so deep you see stars. Fervent murmurs of “harder” and his name fill the air as the sea roils around you, glowing with excited, colorful fish.

He doesn’t mean to whisper, “I’ve missed you so much…” with his face buried in your neck, but he doesn’t mind the slip since you earnestly reply, “I’ve missed you too,” before latching onto him for dear life and meeting him stroke for stroke.

He stills, resting where the water meets the sand, propping up on his hands and guiding you on top. He watches as he pushes inside you, gently commanding, “Show me how much.”

More than happy to oblige, you smile and nod, turning into a slut before his very eyes.

It’s endearing, as always. Tits bouncing wildly in his face as your demanding little hand presses him against them with a needy whine.

“So needy,” he teases. “Can’t let you go so long without my cock next time, yeah?”

“Speaking of, you waited entirely too long this time. You could have taken me weeks ago. Aren’t gods supposed to be merciful to their followers?” you mumble grumpily before your world turns upside down.

Memories upon memories.

Puzzle pieces slide into place as you scream in agony.

You and Rafayel are living so many lives together before your very eyes, lives filled with indescribable happiness and joy.

Some images are distorted, blurry renditions with other unidentifiable people. Something that leaves you frustrated for reasons you can’t explain.

The world spins as you meet his concerned eyes, feeling him grip your face as he watches you with eyes full of disbelief. Your eyes shine with understanding and tears as you whisper, “My husband.”

He hasn’t heard his favorite name leave your lips since the first lifetime. If your cunt weren’t keeping him grounded, he’d surely pass away from happiness.

Horror fills your eyes as you realize, “How could I forget you? I always forget you…”

Sobs wrack through you as you whisper, “I’m so sorry,” again and again, holding him close as you rock him, his tears dropping on your skin.

He meets your gaze. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says softly, firmly.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? Causing others' pain is something to be sorry for!”

He brushes your hair back, giving you a tender, sad smile. You groan softly at how the slight movement makes him jerk inside you. He starts to guide your hips, but you catch his hands. “Why are you still here?” you plead.

Why is he still here so many lifetimes later, when all you’ve truly done is cause him pain?

Confusion fills his features before understanding does. He nuzzles you, whispering, “Because I love you, princess,” before his lips capture yours.

You can’t stop crying, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He kisses your tears as his fall silently, a look of sheer joy playing on his face. The boundaries he’s held around himself all these centuries are long gone; there is no hesitancy in his touch, no sadness clouding the lust.

You sit back with a wide smile as he watches you move. The friction of his soft scales against your inner thighs and his skin under your nails as you grip him is everything.

It makes a bit more sense now why your coupling feels so perfect.

It’s written in the stars.

Wonder and awe shine in his eyes as he squeezes your tit, grinning and guiding your hips. “You take me so well, cutie,” he praises with a firm smack to your ass.

“Harder,” you murmur, your cries of the word getting louder with each slap until you’re moving against each other so fervently you can hardly breathe, your cheeks red and tingly.

Your fingers tangle in his damp hair as your pussy pulses around him, and you press him deep. He feels you soak him as his cock gets messy. He buries his face in your neck with a hoarse shout, hot essence filling you in thick bursts as he throbs inside you.

Your heart pounds as you make a foolish decision.

“Do you want to stay at my place tonight?”

Surprise fills his eyes as he grins. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you?” he teases.

You nod, pushing away the embarrassment and guilt.

Sylus gives him a subtle nod when he enters, ruffling your hair and gently kissing you before retreating from the room.

Rafayel had been selfish; he hadn’t even considered who his presence might hurt. Wide blue eyes watch him from the sofa as you grab his hand and lead him to your room.

He’s inside you for hours before exhaustion finally takes you, with you shamelessly crying his name loud enough for the whole house to hear.

Xavier enters quietly, murmuring, “Would it be okay if I stay a little while?” He folds Xavier against him, running his fingers through his hair.

“This sucks,” Xavier mumbles petulantly, his deep pout forcing Rafayel to hold back laughter.

He moves over him, whispering, “Let us make it better,” before his tongue meets his.

Feeling each other's touch after so long is renewing. And they meld together so easily.

Xavier groans in pain as Rafayel pulls the covers down, revealing your bare form. He frees Xavier's length, running his fingers through your folds gently and scooping your essence onto his cock.

He lives for the cute little moans Xavier releases as he breaks under his hold.

“You can touch her, you know. I won’t tell.” He nips his ear playfully.

Xavier blushes and shakes his head.

“She always likes it,” he reassures, guiding Xavier to your breast.

From there, it’s easy. Xavier carefully tucks you under his arm as he lays back, fingers pinching and tugging your breasts as Rafayel strokes him. His hips buck up, and he reaches over to tease your clit, marveling at your slickness with a quiet curse.

He has you whimpering in your sleep, moaning his name when you don’t even know it’s him, coming around his fingers as cum coats his stomach and Rafayel eases him through the waves.

He holds you for a while, but he’s gone when you wake up. Rafayel is as well, with a note that says he’ll meet up with you later.

You’re running for Sylus immediately, guilt washing over you as you throw open the door and meet his gaze. “Morning, kitten,” he murmurs, a small smile curving his lips.

His arms gather you up without hesitation, his kisses soft and searching as you travel each other's skin.

“Were you not sated last night, sweetie?” he teases, smacking a breast and admiring its bounce.

“Can never get enough of you, Sy,” you say, moving between his legs.

He tastes so good. Pleasing him is a powerful aphrodisiac; his moans and gasps make your body sing.

Such a powerful presence, yet you can make him whimper beneath you in moments.

You work him fervently until he’s spilling in your throat before sliding him inside your cunt while he still twitches.

“I thought about you last night,” you admit, fingers tracing his perfect lips. His cock hardens again at your admission.

He growls, grabs your throat, and moves your hips, waiting for you to say more.

“Rafayel was deep inside me, and I kept thinking how good it would feel if you were too,” you whined, getting tighter at the image.

Sylus chuckles, nodding to where you join, where you struggle to take him. “We’ll shred you into ribbons, kitten,” he teases before flipping you over and pinning you down.

His pace is punishing, the grip of his hands possessive and painful.

You’re sobbing into the comforter as he takes you, commanding you to tell him you’re his over and over. “Again, sweetie.” More sharp slaps to your thighs and ass and pinches to your clit.

“I said you can fuck whoever you like. I didn’t say I wouldn’t make you pay,” he sneers, impaling the breath from your lungs.

He chokes you so hard your vision swims as he makes you tell him how good he feels inside you.

Needy and demanding of reassurance.

He had no reason to be upset, and he knows it. This is a song he’s sung time and again.

But his grip painfully tightens as he rubs your clit, feeling you tremble and cry around him, flooding his cock with warmth. His hips slam deep, filling you up with a horse shout, his teeth finding your shoulder with a sharp bite.

His mood improves instantly. He’s wrapping you in his arms, wiping your tears, and telling you it's alright.

“That was nice and all, but I’m starting to think you’re not as okay with this as you lead on,” you accuse hoarsely, massaging your sore skin.

He chuckles, tucking you against his chest and kissing your head. “I said I’m okay with it, kitten. I didn’t say I like it.” That wasn’t entirely the truth.

“You’re just telling me this now!?” you huff, giving his ankle a hard kick.

His laughter fills the room as he dodges your next attack, pinning you down on the bed and kissing you with a mischievous smile. “After they finish with you, do I have permission to fuck you however I please?” he murmurs.

Confusion fills your features. “They?”

“Answer me, sweetie.”

You nod softly. “You can always do as you please,” you whisper.

His cock fills you again, and this time, he makes love to you slowly, tenderly, as his lips gently trace the bruises he left on your skin. 

You try hard to hide the faint bruise on your neck, and everything is going well until you and Zayne are on the way back from lunch when you get hot and foolishly unbutton your collar.

His eyes go distant, and he’s quiet on the way back to the clinic. Mumbled responses and a cold expression are all he gives before disappearing into his office and locking the door.

You’re floating with joy, but you feel like a deflated balloon under the weight of his energy. The hurt that flashes in his eyes when he sees Sylus’s handprint replays in your mind on a loop as you clean exam rooms.

You’re humming a melody to cheer yourself when Zayne walks in, closing the door softly behind him.

He crosses his arms, eyes searching yours as his low voice pierces the air.“

Why are you denying yourself of me?”

You freeze, your mouth hanging open as you stumble over your words. “Uh, what? I’m n-not—I just,” you mumble pathetically, glancing anywhere but at him.

He tilts your chin, his smirk teasing as he quips, “Yes. You are.”

Your eyes narrow as irritation swirls through you.

There seems to be an abundance of cocky, overly-familiar men in your life, and some of them are a little too mouthy of late.

“What makes you think you know what I want?” you snap softly.

He hovers over you, lips inches from you as he angles your face. His low voice makes your body heat.

“So, you don’t like it when I do this, then?” he asks, pressing his lips to yours.

You zap to life, excitement dancing in you as you shrug, murmuring, “It’s not awful...”

He hums, nodding, tracing his tongue over your ear, biting gently.

“And this?” he breathes. Your body is limp in his arms as he unbuttons your collar, lips brushing over your skin like a soothing mist.

“It’s nice,” you admit, blushing when his eyes heat, and he murmurs, “Just nice?”

He kisses you again, wrapping you around him.

“Because this is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” he says earnestly, capturing your mouth passionately.

You hold him tight but groan in frustration, your balled fist gently smacking him. His soft laugh fills the air.

“What’s all this about?” he asks, trying and failing to keep his tone serious as he watches your outburst.

You sigh dramatically and wiggle around. “Everything is just so weird lately…” You whine, giving him a dire look.

“You should honestly stay far away from me,” you tell him in a firm tone, your expression dead-serious, to which he just grins.

“Thank you for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He sets you on the exam table, a mirthful glint in his eyes as snowflake-print latex traces your skin.

“W-what are you doing…” your voice is hesitant as he unbuttons your top, quickly pushing your bra down to free your breasts. They’re in his mouth before you can even protest. Not that you would. The pull of his lips and the flick of his tongue have you arching into his mouth with needy little whines as you pull him closer.

He hums happily at your reaction to his touch, feeling more at ease than in years. Perhaps since the last time he held you in his arms.

You eagerly search every bit of him you can reach, every touch fueling the desire to bend you over this table and show you how much he’s missed you.  But he prides himself on his patience and can hold out a little longer.

Plus, one of his favorite things in every lifetime is driving you mad until you're begging him to fill you for the first time.

In a particularly cherished memory, you push him down in frustration at his game, tugging his pants down and sitting on his cock without a second thought. He smiles softly as the image swims in his mind, pulling down your shorts and lacey ivory thong, one that sends him reeling.

You gasp softly as he props your legs next to you, spreading you open as you turn away, blushing fiercely. He guides your gaze to his. “Eye’s on me, little one,” he murmurs, ensuring you listen before he fixes his attention with a content hum as he holds you open, playing messily, coating you with firm strokes back and forth.

Worry flows through you as you stop him, anxiety clear in your voice as you ask, “Is anyone here?”

“Rupert and Eloise are waiting on lab results in exam room three. Better keep quiet,” he murmurs before his finger slides inside you, toying with your g-spot with a pained groan as you squeeze him tightly.

Out and in, then he circles your clit. Over and over until keeping quiet is near impossible.

You pray Miss Eloise’s long-distance hearing isn’t great because the cry of pleasure you release when Zayne’s mouth closes over you is feral. You hold him against you, grinding against his face fervently as his tongue dips inside and his nose brushes your clit with each movement.

“Look at me,”  he reminds softly before his fingers set a steady pace, edging you until you’re whimpering his name, begging him for release. 

He holds your face, forcing you to watch his fingers move inside you.

“Look at how wet you are... Making such a mess,” he scolds, awe filling his features as he watches you drip onto the shimmering fabric.

“Come for me now, love. Let me see,’ he commands softly.

You keep his gaze as pleasure washes through you, whimpering pathetically as his fingers tease you until you’re begging for him to stop.

A tender smirk crosses his face as he pulls your pants up and fixes your top, brushing your hair back into place with a chaste kiss to your head.

You reach for his pants eagerly, but he catches your hand.

“Let’s save that for another day,’’ he says gently before shutting the door behind him.

What the fuck just happened?

You look around the room, wide-eyed and sated at the mess you made.

Zayne was his usual stoic self for the rest of the day, acting as if nothing had happened. But he did ask if you want to go to a movie tomorrow, blushing fiercely.

Interacting with Xavier has never been awkward until now.

You’re sitting shoulder to shoulder on the sofa, taking turns reading Destined in Starlight, a series you both enjoy. He picked up the newest novel today, seeming eager to start reading when you got home.

But as his soft voice fills the air, something unidentifiable creeps in, and his face takes on a distant edge.

He scoots further away at one point with a soft, frustrated sigh. You scoot closer immediately in retaliation, and he sighs again, resignation in his features as the story continues.

Now he’s silent, staring at the softly glowing stars floating throughout the room, arms crossed, his brows scrunched in thought.

You’re just staring at him, frustration swirling through you.

You speak at the same time.

“What is stuck up your butt right now?”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself last night.”

Ah.

Suddenly, you feel more guilty than ever.

For some reason, the hurt in his cerulean eyes hits you harder than anything else has.

You reach for him, but he jerks away, cracking your heart as he glares at you.

“Has anything else happened?” He asks accusingly.

Rafayel’s face swims in your mind—your literal husband. Then Zayne’s, his chin glistening with your essence.

Your eyes dart away as you blush fiercely, telling him all he needs to know. He huffs a laugh, hanging his head and nodding, almost emotionless.

Then he walks out of the house. 

Stones shimmer softly underfoot like twinkling stars as you walk through the park hand in hand with Sylus.

He admires the fairy lights strung along the bushes before turning to you with a gentle smile.

He took the news about Zayne well. Or at least he did an excellent job at pretending.

You cuddle together in the star-gazing meadow, surrounded by moon-themed cushions, admiring the open sky. The park provides telescopes and illustrated guides, telling stories of constellations and mythical sky creatures.

Sylus points out a particular constellation as you roll your eyes: Corvus, the Star Crow, the wise and watchful deity overseeing the balance between life, death, and transformation.

Figures.

“Have you ever heard of the Constellation of Kindred Spirits, kitten?” He asks suddenly, his voice hinting at sadness as he points to the cosmos. You shake your head.

“Representing deep connections and soul bonds with individuals,” he murmurs, brushing your cheek before motioning to another.

“That star-cluster is special. The Constellation of Radiant Heart. Standing for love, compassion, and the internal light that guides the soul.”

You watch him closely, feeling something stir within you. Some inexplicable feeling of understanding.

Strange, since you understand nothing at all.

“They compliment each other well, enhancing shared connections and destined relationships...” He pulls you close and kisses your head, saying nothing more, which you find odd. The night trails into a comfortable silence as you hold each other.

Why are his words running on a constant loop in your head, like a mystery you can’t solve?

Rafayel texts you to let you know he can’t make it over. Which is fine; you don’t want to leave Sylus’s side anyway. Later that night, you cradle his head as his breath evens out, stroking his hair softly.

Now that you’re alone, your thoughts and emotions run through you so quickly that you can’t make sense of them.

You feel incredibly guilty for not telling and Xavier about your restored memories, but how do you even broach that conversation? “Hey, so I’ve been married for centuries but, like, I didn’t know though, so it’s cool, right?”  

No.

You want to check on Xavier but can’t handle his anger right now.

You miss Zayne and Rafayel.

And more than anything, you wish they were all cuddled up with you, a vivid image that has your thighs pressing together and a moan slipping out.

You tuck yourself against Sylus with a sigh, wishing this wasn’t so unbearable. 

Guardians of the Cosmic Veil is awful. It’s a hate-watch for you and Zayne now.

The theatre is nearly empty because most people left a few minutes in. You haven’t left because you enjoy each other's company and Zayne’s dry humor.

“I think the plot got lost somewhere in the cosmic void—and nobody bothered to retrieve it.”

“It’s like escaping to a world where entertainment doesn’t exist.”

“This truly is taking me to another realm—one where I question my life choices for watching it.” 

His arm wraps around you, pulling you close as his hand trails up your thigh.

He’s not watching the movie at all. He’s too focused on the damp spot he sees when he pushes your dress up.

You gasp, wide-eyed gaze searching his as his fingers trail over it with a pleased hum. “Zayne—”

He rests his head against yours, kissing your cheek. “Shh. Let me take care of you.”

He’s pushing your panties aside and filling you in seconds, smiling as you make a soft noise of pleasure, and the person a few rows in front of you turns and makes eye contact.

You pray the lady can’t see you blushing as you wave and mouth an apology, narrowing your eyes at Zayne even as your hand travels to his cock, palming this thick length.

Gods, he’s going to feel so good inside you.

He moans quietly at your touch, pressing your hand down hard and grinding into it before collecting himself.

He must like it when you watch because he guides your face again, murmuring, “Look how beautiful you are.”

His hand is so sticky, his long fingers slipping in and out—one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. Him biting his lip harshly, his brows scrunching as he tries to hold back how good you’re making him feel is a close second.

The tighter the band grows in your core, the harder your hand works his cock, the material of his pants rubbing you raw.

You’re both doing a poor job of staying quiet now. The lady in front of you walks out. You hope it’s because of the terrible film, but you highly doubt it since she casts a disgusted look in your direction as she leaves. You can’t help but giggle, earning a soft smile as his fingers fuck you harder.

Squelching sounds fill the theatre as you grip his hand and ride it until you’re breathless and weak. You keep working him as you lick his fingers clean, eyes never leaving his hooded gaze.

His cock twitches violently, and you giggle as he curses and trembles, watching a dark stain spread on his pants.

“Little minx,” he accuses with a tender smile.

On the walk out, his cheeks are cherry-red, and he makes you pay by fingering you in the parking lot until you are well past overstimulated and begging him to stop.

The stain on his pants gets wider without you even touching him. 

You’re half asleep, standing in Xavier’s doorway again.

He sits up, watching you climb into bed with a look of hesitation on his face.

“I thought you have company,” he says, moving aside instead of pulling you close.

“Why are you so upset with me, Xai?” you mumble, a sleepy pout on your face that melts his heart.

He looks away, shaking his head. “I’m not.”

You hum sweetly, poking his arm. “Someone is full of it,” you tease.

He catches your hand and the other when it moves next, with a fierce look in his eyes. You don’t think; you just sit on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling his nose and reveling in the surprise on his face.

“Are you mad because you wish you could do this?” you murmur, kissing him gently as your heart soars.

“Or maybe because you want to see these?” you ask, freeing your breasts with a smile at the desire clouding his features. He grips your thighs tightly, dimpling your skin as his throat bobs.

You take his hand, guiding it to your damp boxers—boxers he notices are his.

He hasn’t seen those in forever...

Joy overwhelms him—you had wanted him all this time.

Watching you bond with everyone but him was torture. He’s always believed you share something special that isn’t there with the others. So it was like a slap in the face when you seemed to prove otherwise.

He’d been too stupid, too slow—Sylus had latched onto your essence across the cosmos, rushing over immediately. By the time Xavier arrived, you were already head over heels, and even though it shouldn't, it felt wrong to intrude.

“Maybe you’re longing to fuck this?” you murmur.

He shakes his head, rubbing you delicately. “I don’t want those things—I need them… I need you.”

He cradles your head as he kisses you. First, soft and slow, then he’s pulling you tight against him as his tongue searches your mouth.

He feels like coming home after the worst day.

Like finding your guiding star in an endless night sky.

His touch elicits things you’ve never felt before, and he’s barely touching you. Just tracing shapes over your back and thighs, pressing kisses to your shoulders, and the swell of your breasts.

It’s absolutely ruining you.

Gripping your hair tight and tilting your head back so your pretty tits arch in his face, his lips and teeth in harmony to create faint bruises as he takes on a more possessive edge.

Every effort to get you closer, every mark that blooms, every rough grab of his hands that leave their sign, feels like an effort to claim what’s his.

You let him do as he pleases, gasping in a perfect mix of pain and pleasure, taking it like “his good little girl.”

You’re nothing but a doll on his lap. A mere plaything. And he’s really missed his favorite toy.

Your tits are red and puffy from the abuse of his mouth and hands, and your lips are slick and swollen as whimpers slip out.

“F-feels so gooood…” you sigh, a dreamy expression on your face as you watch him.

Lust shines in his blue eyes, their depths seeming unfathomable. The anger he’s trying to work off sharpens his features; his brows knit, and his jaw clenches as he uses you, looking nothing like the Xavier you know.

The soft, gentle man who holds a special place in your heart is long gone.

Honestly? You aren’t sure which version you like better.

“I missed you so much…” he whispers, confusion rising like a familiar friend.

There it is again.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

Rafayel said the same thing.

And just like you had then, you earnestly reply, “I missed you, too,” without thinking.

He says something, but you can’t hear it because a terrible pain shoots through your head, sending you into a void of swirling images from different times and different eras—all containing the man beneath you. Tears spill over as you murmur his name,  and he holds you tight, rocking you back and forth as worry rages in him.

Lifetimes of the most tender love you’ve ever known and the most profound friendship you’ve ever had flash before your eyes.

The missing pieces settle in your heart as it mends, repairing the thread that binds your souls together.

He comforts you in silence while you cry, but it’s taking everything in him not to beg you to talk to say something. Meeting his eyes, your gaze wide and pained, you cup his cheek, whispering, “I remember… everything,” in a small, scared voice.

You can’t possibly mean what he thinks you mean, but hope flares in him even as he fights it.

Your hands ball into fists as you hit him weakly, your tears welling over while emotions hit you so hard they make you feel sick. “What are you doing here!?” you ask, your voice breaking as you hit him again, only to have your arms pinned.

“I don’t understand,” he says softly, which frustrates you more. His kind, loving voice is like a knife to your heart.

“We promised each other, Xavier! In our first life, we promised to move on if anything happened. Specifically, we said there would be no endless searches through the cosmos,” you accuse, struggling against his hold.

His eyes widen, and his body locks up with a look of sheer disbelief. Your frustration softens a little at the tears slipping down his cheeks. You kiss some away and rest your head against his. “You were supposed to keep living, to go on and be happy, not waste your life in an endless cycle of torment. You aren’t leashed to me like Raffie... You have no responsibility to me.”

He releases his hold, smiling softly as his thumb circles your nipple. He realizes then that you don’t quite know everything… But he’ll take what he can get.

“You must have known I wouldn’t listen. Besides, would you truly not have searched for me if you remembered?” he asks, and his question hits home. You deflate like a balloon, your exasperation leaving you as sadness replaces it.

Pain shoots through your head again, so much worse than before. And then—Every puzzle piece clicks into place, and the finished product is a rendition of eternal love and devotion written in the stars.

Centuries ago, a foretold alignment of planets occurred as the sky vibrated with ethereal energy, giving constellations a front-row seat to the grand celestial ballet.

Mere patterns of stars were imbued with life, transforming into beings of radiant light and consciousness.

Five extraordinary stars came to life that day—The Constellation of Radiant Heart, representing compassion, love, and the internal light guiding one’s soul.

Kindred Spirits: deep connections and soul bonds between individuals.

Frosted Bloom: purity, resilience, and the delicate beauty of life in cold environments.

Eternal Flame: enduring passion, resilience, and the warmth of everlasting love.

And Eternal Union: the timeless bond between soulmates and love’s enduring nature across lifetimes.

You, Sylus, Zayne, Rafayel, and Xavier.

The constant pull to reach each other began instantly, bringing you and Rafayel together, with the others following soon after.

The foretold prophecy was whispered anew as word of your existence spread. It spoke of great power and the consequences of it being misused or led astray.

Signs pointed to your union being the power spoken of, as it embodies constellations that, when aligned, wield an offspring of energy capable of shifting the balance between light and darkness.

Of unhinging the very fabric of reality.

A council of gods striving to maintain this delicate balance intervened to prevent such possibilities, knowing that love, while powerful, could be unpredictable. 

Celestial threads were disrupted, corrupting their natural flow to keep you separated.

Yet, you naturally gravitate together—a cosmic force of nature beyond control, contributing subtly to the balance of creation. Such that your rediscovery of each other seems harmonious, like a divine occurrence, allowing it to slip right under the radar.

A fierce deity named Astra sent out a wave across the cosmos, selectively targeting your memories of the others.

You have no idea what broke the spell. Hopefully, Astra is dead; whatever it is,  you thank the gods for it.

You snap to reality, your eyes locking with Xavier’s as you smile, whispering, “My guiding star, come to life…” with wonder in your voice.

“Now I see,” you tease softly, cupping his cheeks as you both begin to cry.

Your lips find his, and the way you make out feels like it did the first time. His hand slips into your boxers, a low groan leaving him when he feels how wet and warm you are.

His fingers play in the slickness before they fill you, pumping deep and fast as he squeezes your breast, watching your every reaction.

Suddenly he’s freeing his cock, tearing your bottoms for easier access, and all but impaling you.

His hand grips the nape of your neck, guiding your head to his, as his arm winds around your waist, pulling you closer.

“You wanna apologize for taking so long to let me have you this time? Bet you're regretting it now that you remember my cock is your favorite,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your ass as he lifts you to the tip and down to a languid rhythm.

“Say it—tell me you’re sorry,” he demands softly, mouth finding your breast as he waits for your response.

“I am sorry,” you say, meaning it. He pushes deep, stilling you, his eyes searching yours.

“I know it irks you that you were last in line,” you tease, trying to keep a straight face.

His eyes narrow with a playful expression as he bites your boob. Hard.

He devours your shriek, throwing you on the bed and spreading you wide, fingers fucking you until you're crying his name.

His cock slips inside, lips curving with a soft smile, his eyes full of love, as he fucks you like it's all you’re suitable for.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he instructs calmly, with an almost bored tone, as he watches you squirm beneath him.

His cock stabs you sharply when you don’t respond.

“Fuck! It f-feels amazing. It always feels amazing!”

His pleased hum fills the air, sending shivers down your spine. “And whose cock is best?” he asks with a mischievous smile.

He’s playing like it’s a joke, but you know he’s serious.

He rubs your clit hard, gripping your throat as he hovers over you. “Well. What’s your answer?” he murmurs, kissing you softly.

You can’t see straight from him fucking you so hard, and he’s cutting off your air just right, causing pleasure to curl painfully, just waiting to snap.

“Yours, Xavier! Gods, you know that!” you sigh in exasperation, rolling your eyes to the heavens.

Xavier is the most jealous, hands down, with Raf close behind. Xavier needs constant reassurance of how much he means to you. If he doesn't get it, he’s either pouty or he’s destroying your poor body out of spite; there is no in-between.

“Good girl,” he coos, pushing your legs back and settling over you, teeth teasing your ear as he whispers, “And who do you love most?”

Your pussy tightens painfully, pulling him in deep as you kiss him and ease his worries.

“You Xai. It’s always been you silly.”

He makes a sweet, happy sound, his ears turning pink as he hides his face. The band in your core snaps so suddenly, hurtling you into an orgasm painful in its intensity.

You’re making such a mess, his cock squelching around so loud.

He’s slamming into you, watching you suck him in, whimpering as his hips slow and his essence warms you.

Then his total weight is on you, showering you with kisses til you're breathless and giggling. The storm in his eyes calms, and he can’t keep the smile off his face as he repeats, “I missed you so much!” with another little nuzzle.

Sylus walks in so quietly that you don’t hear him until his breath is against your skin.

“Seems our little pet has been keeping secrets,” he drawls.

His hand begins to trace your body, and Xavier leans back, hips resuming their pace as he spreads your legs and shifts his focus to where you join.

You groan, squirming around, grinding against him as excitement stirs.

You love it when they play with their toy together.

“When were you planning to tell me, sweetie? Your memories have been bubbling up for a while now,” he accuses, giving your breast a light slap with a teasing grin before he makes his way to your clit, rubbing slow, tortuous circles in time with Xavier’s thrusts.

Xavier’s watching Sylus’s fingers swirl above his cock, slipping in an out of you, a dazed, heady feeling taking over him as his soft voice reaches your ears like the embodiment of sin for someone seemingly so pure.

“Getting so tight… You always have liked it best when we fuck you together, huh?”

Sylus chuckles, capturing your whimper as Xavier’s pace quickens, cute little sounds leaving him as his fingers coat you messily, gripping your thighs tight with sloppy pumps of his hips.

“How much do you remember?’ Sylus inquires, his breath brushing your ear before trailing along your neck.

“Everything,” you murmur breathlessly. His gaze seeks yours, features full of disbelief and wonder.

“Everything?” he repeats, scared to believe it.

Tears fill your eyes, and a smile spreads wide as you nod fervently. His hand squeezes your cheeks, and his kiss takes your breath away.

“Well then, I guess you see that you owe us. We follow you across the cosmos… You put us through so much, kitten,” he says, his tone sweet yet mocking.

You roll your eyes, tossing him an exasperated glare. “You know well that you chase each other, not just me, jackass.”

You are shimmering stars that are only whole when together.

“Doesn't matter,” he says, freeing his cock; he turns your head and wets your lip with his essence. “Time to pay up.”

You act annoyed, but in reality, having them fill you at once and using you for their pleasure in such a primal way is sheer ecstasy.

Xavier’s teasing you, pressing kisses to your neck and cheeks while he murmurs filth in your ear, watching you choke around Sylus.

“I know you can take him better than that, angel.”

“No fair, Sy! Your cock is bigger this time. It doesn’t even fit.”

“Our perfect little star… You know you were made just for us, right?”

“Go on, tell him whose cock makes you feel best.”

That one earns him a knock upside the head as Sylus pushes him back.

Xavier’s soft laugh fills the air, hips resuming their unforgiving pace.

He cherishes making love to you so much more than having this resolute goal of destroying your body. But he's enjoying working off his pent-up frustration.

He also prefers having you all to himself. But something in the bond you all share makes sharing you feel like the most natural thing in the world.

Sylus has already clued Zayne and Rafayel in. Zayne is straight-up rushing over. Raf busts into the room now, jumping to your free side and overwhelming your cheek with kisses.

“Hey there, cutie,” he says, his radiant smile lighting his features and melting your heart.

His gaze drifts to Xavier’s pistoning cock, with a small, heated breath of, “Oh.” He teases your clit and Xavier's shaft with gentle fingers, lust clouding his face.

“Are they making you feel good?” he murmurs, watching Sylus fuck your mouth as you choke and nod, his fingers circling faster.

“Yeah? Just wait. I’ll make you feel so much better than they are,” he promises.

“Eyes on me now, sweetie,” Sylus commands, tugging your hair to angle your face. 

“You’ll take it all like a good girl,” he commands, fucking your throat so deep you lose the ability to breathe.

Rafayel’s mouth sucks and bites your breasts, teasing your nipples and palming your clit while his fingers play with Xavier, whose ruining your cunt, murmuring about how “You’re taking them so well” and telling Raf not to stop.

Sylus stills, cock throbbing as he releases so much cum you can barely get it down. Xavier’s warmth fills you next, and you tumble over with him, crying out around Sylus as pleasure rolls through you.

You’re so blissed-out you barely register being scooped up and carried to the pull-out sofa as Rafayel states he needs more room. He lowers you onto him, entering you gently, but the way he grips your thighs when he bottoms out is anything but.

He leans back and gets comfy, a teasing grin on his face as he commands, “Make me feel good first, princess. I’ll reward you after.”

He makes no move to help you; he just smiles and praises you while you bounce on his cock, dazed and trying to stay up on shaky legs.

You bury your face against him, switching to a slow grind, whining, “You feel so good, baby.” He groans, flipping you on your stomach instead and lifting your ass high, delivering gentle slaps that contradict his unforgiving pace. It only lasts a minute, though, as it slows at Zayne’s presence.

Zayne’s voice overwhelms your senses, murmuring, “Hello, beautiful.” He helps you prop up on the back of the sofa, kneeling so he can kiss you. He strokes your cheek, his eyes searching yours tenderly.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he says with a small smile.

“Zayniee!” you say dreamily. “Wanna taste you sooo bad,” you whine, earning a gentle laugh.

“I can arrange that,” he says, undoing his belt slowly. You open wide, moaning in pleasure as he pushes in.

His touch is gentler than the others—light squeezes of your breasts, fingertips tracing shapes on your back as his hips move slowly.

He grips your ass, helping you move against Rafayel, telling you how perfect you are.

Xavier settles next to you, rubbing your clit to Rafayel’s pace, while Sylus sits close, a glass of wine in hand. “You’re excelling in your penance, kitten,” he praises teasingly.

“Gonna paint you white, now, cutie,” Raf mumbles, his thrusts getting sloppy before his essence fills you up.

Zayne takes his place instantly, spooning you as his cock borderline rips you open.

Sylus isn’t the only one who leveled up in this life.

He holds you close for a while, just resting against your head while lightly gripping your throat, thumb rubbing to a soothing rhythm.

“I’ve prayed so many times for the spell to break,” he admits, agony filling his voice. “I was beginning to lose hope, but—” his hips begin to pump, and every touch is an attempt to reassure him that you’re truly here.

You cum around him again and again, the couch getting filthy as he turns you into an overstimulated, whimpering mess.

Sylus teases your breasts while Rafayel and Xavier sit close.

Your poor pussy is ruined, and you’re barely conscious, dazed by the pleasure they’re giving you.

This doesn’t seem to be ending anytime soon since Zayne murmurs, “Just one more time, my love.”

[dollwrites]

ʜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇs ᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇs ʜɪs sᴛᴇᴀᴋ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ᴋᴜʀᴇ ʀᴀɪᴀɴ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!kure!reader, incest ( big brother / little sister ), noncon, reader cries but it’s not really dacryphilia, raian’s a meanie : (, extortion / blackmail, forced ( in ) breeding, the word rape is used. all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act eleven [ incest ]

“Oi, oi, oi, oi, the fuck are you cryin’ for?” Raian taunts against the shell of your ear, even though you knew that he already knew the reason. it was because he was, before anything else, a bully. whether it be to his own family or randos off the street, he liked to torment everyone, and you— his darling little sister, was no exception. “Thought you liked when your big, bad brother took care a’ya. You’re always begging me to, aintcha?” the pads of his thick fingers were irreparably calloused and rough as they creep up from behind your hair and trace your jaw, before diving down to coil around the smaller column of your neck, using the firm grip to pluck your wet face from the pillows where you’d been trying to bury it. “Look here.”

but it was difficult to keep your eyes from squinting with each, deep thrust, as your brother buried his thick cock into you from behind. “R—Raian—“ all you could manage through broken moans and labored breath were the syllables that formed his name, eyelids fluttering as he pulls your head back, angling it up towards the ceiling— towards he who mounted you. “This… is wrong…”

but Raian didn’t seem the least bit offended. in fact, a cocky grin tickled his lips, urging them back to reveal sharp teeth. “Boo hoo,” he boasted his strength by holding you in place with his hand on your throat, the sheer length of his fingers enough to cover your lower mandible so the tips slid into your open mouth when you panted and mewled. you could taste old blood under his nails, and you knew it wasn’t his. “Don’t cry about it, I’ll lose my hardon.” but that seemed impossible, because he was as solid as stone, driving himself into your depths with relentless, ravenous rutting. the tips of his fingers anchor themselves beneath your lolling tongue, pressing against the floor of your jaw as he plowed you, grunting like a wild boar. “Besides, what can you do? Beg me to stop destroying your little pussy? After all big brother does for you?”

your more delicate fingers clench weak fistfuls of the sheets on Raian’s bed, your sharp nails leaving broken threads and pin-prick sized holes when he seizes inside of you, pushing all of his weight down against your sweaty back, filling you to the brim with cock. more tears welled up in your eyes, mourning for your poor pussy, but the way Raian controlled the lower half of your face, pulling it around as if you were a fish on a hook, you knew better than to let them break surface. so, you sniffled, squirmed under the heat and weight of his body, and shook your head no to his question. you knew this was wrong— hell, it was a disgusting feeling, to get so wet that you squelched every time your brother pushed into you, but you wouldn’t beg him to stop.

no, you couldn’t.

“That’s what I thought!” Raian bellowed, the glorious victor, as he fucked you with reckless abandon. his free hand giving your round ass a stinging slap. you hissed, the sound coming out gurgled and helpless, drooling on his fingers as you did so. “After all, you stop givin’ up your tight fuckmeat to me, and Pops just might find out about our little arrangement. Might just tell him all about how you can’t make a kill…” his voice is ragged, trailing off as his shoulders hunch and he lays his broad chest to your back. you felt as if you were being crushed by his sticky, sweaty body. you couldn’t breathe, and the deep, hard fucking he was giving you only made it that much harder, so you gasped and swallowed as much air as you could, braying, but in your own mind, you hated how it sounded. you sounded like a bitch that was eager and happy to be bred when you made those noises. Raian pressed his open mouth to your cheek, and when he spoke, his tongue undulated, slurping up stray tears. “You’ve been asking your big brother to do all your assignments so you don’t get exiled… or worse. Come to think of it, Pops probably wouldn’t even want you walkin’ around, giving the Kure Clan a weak rep, he’d most likely just have one of us kill ya. Isn’t that right?”

you didn’t have to answer that, Raian was using the grip on your mouth to nod your head for you. “Worst part is, the old bastard would most likely make me do it, and the idea of slaughtering my favorite, little fucktoy— my baby sister, it pisses me off. So, I’ll keep being a good big brother, and I’ll take all your assignments, so long as you keep being the best little sister, and spreading your legs whenever I need to drain my balls.”

you groan, eyes wide, at his words and stare up at him. you could feel the way his cock throbbed in your guts, twitching with imminent release, and you offer a pathetic, half-assed plea, “N—not inside this time, p—please?”

but Raian cackled at that. “What? You scared of getting knocked up?” his smile was wide and toothy, his free hand running up to pin your shoulders down, smashing your front into the mattress as he gets in a better position to fill you up. “Doesn’t Pops always preach about ‘keeping the Kure bloodline pure’ and all that shit? What’s purer than my load filling up your guts, little sis?”

it was a cruel, cruel way to reject your request, and before you know it, you could feel rope after rope of warmth, splattering your insides. you whine in defeat, burying your face in the pillows, but this time Raian lets you. in fact, he helps, releasing your mouth to palm the back of your head like a basketball and force it down so he could completely dominate you from this angle. “Whiny, little brat.” he grunted with a heavy sigh, wide chest heaving wildly. “But you’ve always liked sleepovers with me. I can tell you still do.” Raian leans back on his haunches, releasing you from your weighted cage, to admire the puddle of girlcum you also left on his sheets. he knew they’d smell just like your sweet pussy, and the urge to bury his nose in them and drink in the aroma was almost overwhelming. he restrains himself for now, scoffing as your thighs quiver— the vibration from your muscle spasms pushing webs of his spunk from your clenching cunt, and he gives the underside of your thigh a rough smack for good measure. “And you still cum when I rape you, huh? That’s a good sign. Means you know where you belong.” he chuckles in a raspy, breathy croak before adding, “Hangin’ off my cock like a little sex doll.”

[takumifujiwarastan]

"look at me, not him."

pairings: megumi fushiguro x best friend!reader contents: jealousy, sprinkle of angst, a bit suggestive, reader has a bit of traumatic past but not too many details. no established relationship (yet)!

594 words

a/n: very self indulgent bc i js wanted to write for mah boi megumi <3

he couldn't hate yuji.

he couldn't hate the fact that he was stealing your attention away from him more and more with each passing day.

that the small smiles only he could see were now becoming regular when you were around the pink haired boy.

of course, he's more than happy that you're smiling. the shell that had been enclosing you for so long was finally starting to break in the company of safe people who cared about you.

he just wished it was him who made you smile like that.

since when did he start wishing that? he couldn't remember. he couldn't count the days he's spent thinking about you. the nights he spent dreaming about you. you somehow slithered your way into his mind along with every thought that whizzed by.

it used to be just you and him. being unofficially 'adopted' by gojo a few years after he was, you'd come to know him most your whole life. he knew everything about you. he knew the background you came from. the pain you suffered. every hit you took. every time you got back up and kept going.

he missed the days of just him and you. lazy afternoons in each others' dorm rooms, spent basking in the warmth of the sun that shone through the window and talking about whatever. sleepless rainy nights that ended with you in his arms, your breathing in sync with his as the rain pattered against the glass of the window.

and the rare smiles he got to see from you whenever you were with him. him. not yuji.

and its yuji you're waiting for now, as you stand patiently at the end of the hallway, where he said he would meet you after showering and changing after training.

megumi's sharp eyes narrow at the sight of you waiting for someone other than him yet again. without even a second thought he starts padding down the wood floor of the dorm hall.

"y/n." he breathes out, stopping just a few feet from you. you look up at him, meeting his eyes that seem to carry unfamiliar emotion behind them.

"hey..." you reply softly. "you alright?" the question falls from your lips so innocently, in such a clueless matter he can't be upset that you aren't spending time with him. his eyes soften at this, then closing them with a sigh.

his fists then ball up at his sides upon hearing yuji's voice at the other end of the hall. he turns his head and shoots him a menacing look, to which the peach haired boy with widened eyes retreated back to his dorm.

you turn your head and watch as yuji goes back into his room, shutting the door hastily. "megumi, me and yuji were going to-" your irritated tone is cut off when a hand is brought up to your face, tilting your head back towards the raven haired boy as he crashes his lips into yours, a small gasp escaping your lips when your back hits the wall. his free hand is seated on your waist, gripping feverishly as he deepens the kiss.

he pulls back a few moments after, looking into your eyes with a fiery anger yet desperate longing at the same time. his hand holds your face so softly, tenderly, contrary to the emotions brewing inside him. his thumb brushing over your cheekbone so delicately, as if you were fragile as glass. you can almost hear the yearning in his voice when he breathes out;

"look at me, not him."

do u want a part 2?

[goofy-clan]

Heyo! Narrator peep and creator of goofy clan! I wanted to share this fanart I made as a gift to the clan series that inspired this entire series! Enjoy!!

And now it’s time to pair cat with creator! Click more to see notes I left for the creators too!

————————————————

Goldsight belongs to @gray-thistleclan , I loved the way the cats were drawn in this series, and especially how the story progressed! Gold was always my favroite -w-! Even though she has the crazy disease now ;-;.

Eukltna belongs to @loudclan-clangen ! I loved the silly cats in this series, the artstyle actually helped me draw mouths easier! I love our doomed religious kitty, even if she was a bit odd. That crude oil does get everywhere huh…

Longstrike belongs to @juniper-clan ! The fact that the entire series was set in olden times is really neat! I also love the theme of seashells/ cowrie shells being bad, those are spooky! Long was my favroite, I was sad to see him go. So he’s drawn in the cozy sunshine!

Tigertoe Belongs to @circus-clangen ! Circus clan was actually a big inspiration for the puzzles/cipher aspects of my blog! I was always a sucker for finding stuff out, plus clowns are cool! I love tiger with all my heart, she was so fun to draw! Best entertainer :)!

Ravenstar belongs to @fallenclan ! Oh boy where do I start. I think it’s super impressive how far the series is now, even if I picked up halfway through! I love how the cats look, fun fur colors! Raven is such a good villain, evil stinky cat. So here he is with a totally real (and not painted) star!

Kestrelstar belongs to @echoes-in-echoclan ! I love this series, even though I don’t get what’s going on sometimes, it’s still a wonderful read! I also loved the connected universe with circus clan, what a twist! Kestrel is my favorite, he’s such a cool old dude!

Sweetkit belongs to @mourningsbane ! It isn’t every day I see a eldritch horror/spooky clangen series! As an avid horror fan, I love how body horror is drawn and shown in this series! Honey is the best cat :)! But, I drew sweet today! They’re a good protagonist, because who better to explore the spooky uknown than kittens?

NettleIris belongs to @moons-of-dewclan ! I adored the art style of this series, and the fact all the backgrounds are drawn so beautifully! Even though this series tugs at my heart strings, it’s lovely! Makes me wanna go wander in the woods! Nettle is my favorite lil’ peep, best medicine cat. Plus, puffy cats are fun to draw!

ConiferSun belongs to @castaway-clan ! I love the trope of “rebuild and build anew” in clangen runs! Seeing the clan in this series slowly grow in size and for the leader to not be alone anymore was very comforting. Conifer is my favorite simply because they’re blue and just a wonderful cat in the series! They also get to look at the lady bug :)!

And that’s all! Y’all are cool Peeps, keep on rocking!

[xenodile]

Something interesting to me about the dynamic between Walter 621 and Ayre is right after Watchpoint Delta and making Contact, 621 actually tells Walter they've started hearing voices which Walter initially brushes off as a side effect of the Gen4 augments and to just ignore it.

But further down the line, Walter expresses concern that 621's "side effects" are still happening and even mentions to Carla that he thinks 621 is hiding it from him.

So we have the fact that 621 is intentionally keeping their Contact with Ayre a secret, which is already a juicy development, but on top of that Ayre is the one that delivers the briefings for most of the RLF missions. While Walter is willing to run mission control on these missions, the fact that Ayre is the one to bring them to 621's attention is vital.

It means that Walter has been intentionally withholding certain jobs from 621, jobs that put them at odds with the corps, jobs sent to Raven specifically that he hides from them. And since Walter doesn't know Ayre exists, to him it's like 621 is proactively seeking out and accepting these jobs without consulting him.

Walter sends 621 to work with the Redguns and Rusty to coax them out of their shell and make friends with very little success, but they go in alone to Watchpoint Delta, get caught in a Coral explosion and suddenly they're much more assertive, taking jobs on their own, even lying to him.

It's fascinating to think about.

[ann-writes-universes]

Darkstar (Azriel x Reader)

Warnings: Gore (?), Mentions of Suicide, Angst, Vampires (?)

w/c: 4,981 (damn im sorry)

A/N: Hey everyone. I know its been a long time. Expect an explanation, catch up, FAQ later on this evening possibly. Anywho- here is a really weird halloween short with Az. Its spooky, its weird, its deff not cannon. Trick or treat I guess? Missed you all, more soon <333

---

Deep within the frozen woods of the Winter court, a blizzard had begun to brew. Ice-capped limbs whipped wildly against one another, wind flew furiously like a hound through the trees, and night dark ravens screamed against the surmounting crescendo of the living wood. In the midst of it all, a cabin stood firm against the four winds. It would have been a quaint sight to any who made it far enough into the wood to witness it. It’s owner never had many visitors- those who came had purpose, and did not come often. Even the fae- immortal and ferocious, dared not to visit the cabin in the wood. For it was not fae that inhabited the four walls which were being observed now. From no less than a hundred yards away the Spymaster could see warm light seeping from behind shuttered windows. Despite the howling of the wind he could hear the soft hum of music whispering from behind the latched door. From deep within- a voice, soft and lilting sang along. 

He had been here several times before. Always this time of year, right when the temperatures began to be so unbearable not even Kallias’s most loyal soldiers would dare patrol this far north. Azriel stayed on the edge of the wood, letting his shadows creep about. All around him the blizzard raged- desperately trying to urge him inside. Just as the winged warrior was about to step forward, the cabin door swung open. With the motion snow swept upward, and light cascaded onto the dark woods beyond- illuminating the master of shadows fully. Before him- she stood. 

The owner of the cabin was a creature unlike any the spymaster had encountered in his centuries of living. Dressed only in a silken gown she was unaffected by the harsh temperatures outside. She stepped barefoot into the snow and approached the armored male in her yard. Compared to the illyrian, this creature was small- nearly half his height.  He straightened as she approached, called back the shadows that had scattered into the trees at her abrupt entry. 

“Its been so long, shadow singer.” She whispered- and when she spoke the wind silenced. Just as abruptly as the storm had come on, it receded into the wood. The limbs halted their dance, and the ravens ceased their songs. Every creature in  the forest seemed to quiet so that she could speak. Azriel smiled crookedly at her words. 

“I have stayed away at your request.” He reminded, stepping backward as she made her way toward him. Each movement she made was  predatory in nature. She vexed him in ways unimaginable- the sway of her hips with each step, the lotus soft lips that curved so innocently into a smile as she crept forward. With a quickness almost unfathomable to even his eye, she was upon him- sinking her fingers into the layers of his leathers to pull him impossibly closer. 

Instinctively his arms swung around her, inching the navy fabric of her slip up over the arch of her rear. Large hands gripped at her hips, steadying him as she reached upwards towards his face. 

“How I miss you when you are away.” The enchantress hummed in his ear, pressing her lips softly into the shell of it before slipping out of his arms. As if she were dancing she spun backwards towards the cabin, beckoning him to follow. 

It had changed very little since last winter- in fact he struggled to remember if it had changed at all. She had created more pottery- the new pieces fiery and bold in color. Each piece was smoother on the edges than the last, becoming more elegant with each creation. A fire blazed in the hearth, casting the interior of the home in a warm glow. Azriel had always found this place so comforting. It was entirely too small for his demeanor, scaled perfectly for the inhabitant, he had to refrain from letting his wings relax fully in the space. Despite the cramped feeling the cabin had always been a welcome sight for the shadow master. 

As Azriel made himself comfortable on the large and well worn lounge, she began to make tea. Peppermint and lavender began to permeate his senses, his muscles suddenly growing weak. As he molded into the lounge and began to let his mind wander off his shadows nipped angrily at his sides, urging him to alertness. From the kitchen- he heard a chuckle. 

“Entirely unfair my Star.” He muttered, blinking away the newfound dreariness from his eyes. Like snowflakes personified she floated into the living space, a cup of tea in hand. Pale lips crept back into a smile revealing only one of two razor sharp canines beyond. He took the mug she offered and made room for her to sit beside him. 

“I just wanted to see if it still worked on you.” She quipped, reaching upward to tuck a stray hair behind his ear. Her fingers lingered a moment on their round tips, as they always did when she touched him. “Clearly it does.”

She was of course referring to the odd ability she had to affect the mood of those around her. Even with trained guards such as Azriel’s the forest woman had immense effect on his emotion. He had never outright asked her what she was, for that had never been his place. Physically she appeared mortal though lacked a heartbeat and the warmth human beings possess. Azriel was privy to the information that the madame did not eat but survived on blood much like Amren did. For twenty winters Azriel visited this cabin- never once asking for more than she offered in ways of personal information. He knew her name (or at least the one she had offered), her appetite, and he chose to believe he knew her soul. 

To him she was incredibly warm despite the general temperature of her skin. He would spend days with her at a time, unbothered by the world outside of the cabin in the woods. He slept when he was with her, and had even been visited by dreams while in her presence. Whether or not these were brought upon by her general nearness or her ability he was unsure, but that was another mystery he really had no interest in solving. 

This particular eve of visiting was different in feeling. She had sidled up next to him on the couch as she always did, laying her head in his lap and staring at the pattern the fire’s flames had licked upon the walls. It was silent for a while, the only sounds were the crackle of the embers and the wind which had picked up once more outside. The two of them had always been able to slip into this comfortable silence, him always mesmerized by the softness of her hair or the curve of her waist, and she always caught up in the detail of his marred hands or the soft smattering of freckles that painted his brow. But tonight was different somehow. She was now perched on his lap, straddling his waist as she traced the outline of his lips with her finger. His hands rested loosely around her waist, his eyes closed. Her brow was pinched together, her finger dragging downward to his neck where it rested upon the collarbone, sensing his beating pulse beneath. Azriel cracked open his eyes, watching her watch him. 

“I was a girl once you know.” She mumbled, her eyes not really seeing as they found his. The shadow singer chuckled under his breath and closed his eyes once more, relaxing back into the lounge. 

“You are a girl, my star.” He mumbled, beginning to trace circles into her hips. With a single hand she stilled his motions and used the other to urge his attention. She grasped his chin gently between her thumb and forefinger- and he opened his eyes once more. 

“I mean a living and breathing one, Azriel.” And there was a sadness in her tone he had never heard before. Gone was the musical echo it usually possessed, in its place a haunting trill that chilled him to the bone. He straightened his posture in preparation for this possible revelation. Never once had it occurred to him she could have been anything other than what she currently was. 

“Before I was this I was a human girl. I had a family, and I had friends below the wall. I attended church and I wrote poems and learned to sew.” When she spoke there was a manic light in her eyes, and her small hands were gripping his shirt so tightly they were shaking. “I was engaged too you know?” She stood then and moved towards the fire, arms swinging limply by her sides. “He was a nice boy. So lively, and he loved me deeply.”

She sounded far away, as though she were speaking to him from oceans away. Azriel supposed this could all be true, Feyre and her sisters had also been human once. In all of his research he had never heard of anything like this before. What Feyre had become was high fae, as had her sisters. But (y/n)... she was not like them. Nor was she like any other fae he had ever encountered. 

“Do you know how old I am Azriel?” When she asked him this she turned to face him, and her irises were black- welling with tears. Her arms raised to cross over her chest, and the straps of her nightgown fell low upon her shoulders. Leaning forward he propped his elbows upon his knees and shook his head. 

“I do not, I presume older than I.” 

This made her laugh, a sorrowful yet amused sound that allowed him to relax slightly. 

“No. Not quite that old Azriel. I am two hundred years old.” 

Azriel was not quite sure why this number struck him as hard as it did. For why would it matter if she was more than half his age? Perhaps it was the sorrow in her voice when she revealed this to him or the look in her wide eyes as she turned away from his gaze.

“Which, now that I say  it out loud, it is not incredibly old to your kind.” And it was that phrase that truly struck him. Your Kind. He had known all of those years that they were different, silently she had too, but the admission of such a fact made the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge. “But it is quite old when you were never supposed to be such an age.”

He had never thought too deeply about the fact that he had no clue what she was. There were very few beings in Prythian more feared than an illyrian, especially Azriel. But as he sat on the lounge facing the woman he had known for two decades a primal fear crept in his chest. 

“What do you mean you were human?” He dared ask. Her shoulders slumped over slightly and she sighed, moving towards the frost covered window near the front door. Her fingers traced its edges, gathering the frost as they went. Long tendrils of hair cascaded down her back, illuminated in a soft glow by the dying fire. 

“I mean that I was once a human girl, and now I am something- other.” Her hand stopped its movements and she turned her head over her shoulder slightly to reveal that coy smile and far off look once more. In the window beyond- the blizzard raged on, inky darkness shrouding the tree line. The wind howled fiercely now, surmounting in rage as the seconds ticked on. “Would you like to hear about the night I died?”

⥈ ⥈ ⥈ ⥈ ⥈

Late one winter’s evening three sisters eagerly awaited for the clock to strike midnight. For it was the eve of the youngest lady’s wedding- a day most patiently awaited by all three. Both Theresa and Cecilia had been married the two winters prior, and finally it had become the youngest sister’s turn. A gown of Prythian’s finest silk and lace hung on a dresser door, awaiting the morning hours. Neatly placed on the floor below, a simple pair of ivory heels. 

“Do you think Lestat will cry?” Said Cecilia, pausing in her efforts to brush through the thick tendrils of Theresa’s hair. Theresa peaked at her youngest sister over the top of her cross-stitch, awaiting a response. 

“I think so. He is so sensitive about things.” The youngest replied. Both Cecilia and Theresa fawned at this answer.

“You are so lucky, Lamb.” Said Theresa, which Cecilia followed with a sigh of agreement. 

“Oh so are you Resa, as are you Cece. Phillip and Charles are most charming gentlemen indeed.” Said Lamb as she made her way over to the window overlooking the front lawn. Snow had blanketed it weeks prior, and the inky night sky above was clear enough to see an assortment of stars. She had dreamed of her wedding since she was a little girl, and had fantasized about it for as long as she could remember. When her sisters had married their beaus she had decided that she was destined to fall in love and have a day just as special as they had. As she watched the snow twinkle in the moonlight beyond she was called to walk amongst her father’s gardens one last time. After tomorrow she would become Mrs. Lestat Montgomery, and it would be a very long time before she would step foot upon these grounds again. 

“I think I will go on a walk.” She stated, interrupting the mindless conversation her sisters’ had fallen into. 

“At such a late hour?” Theresa questioned. 

“My mind is restless, I think the cool air would calm it to sleep.” A reply that settled both Cecilia and Theresa enough to let her leave. 

Stepping into the night she was shocked at how much the temperature had dropped since her bridal dinner earlier in the evening. Mere hours earlier the garden she now wandered through had been littered with people. Now, it was silent- only fading impressions of footprints in the snow were left to mark their presence. The girl made her way through the snow coated gardens, imagining what they had looked like each spring when it was full of life. She reminisced on each spring she had spent here growing up- especially those in recent history she had spent with Lestat in this same garden they would be wed in tomorrow. Preparations for the event had already begun. At the furthest edge of the garden, near the frozen swan pond an altar stood tall. It had yet to be decorated with foliage- that would come tomorrow to preserve the delicate lamb’s breath and roses from the winter’s chill. She made her way towards it now, down the imaginary aisle. As she walked she stared at the snow, imagining how she would conquer it in staggering heels tomorrow. The soft wind chilled her skin and swept her hair from her face- the scent of amber and magnolia wafting off of the strands. 

Suddenly, as if all life had been sucked from it- the air went still. Even the sound of her footsteps seemed to grow silent. Dragging her gaze upward from the snow she sucked in a quiet gasp when her eyes fell upon a man standing at the end of the aisle. 

Illuminated by moonlight he stood with his hands clasped in front of him. Dark hair cascaded down his back, and night dark eyes peered at her from behind thick lashes. He was breathtaking, so inhumanely gorgeous that she began to scream and stumble backward. Before the sound could even escape her he was upon her, gripping her by the waist before she could descend into the snow beneath. With a hand clasped firmly over her mouth he stared into her widened eyes. Where his skin pressed against hers, she had grown ice cold. 

From what little she knew about fae she did not understand why this one appeared the way he did. Up close his features were entirely human. While beautiful- he did not have the same high features and bright eyes that fae did- and while he was larger than her he did not stand as tall as fae of legend. 

“That is because I am not fae, girl.” He drug out a on a voice that sounded like tar personified. The noise sounded as though he had not spoken in centuries, and judging by the way it seemed to pain him when he spoke she gathered he probably had not. 

“How?” She whispered, he had read her mind. Hadn't he? She did not remember voicing her confusion.

“I am a creature entirely other dear girl.” That grating voice came again. He knelt in the snow- handling her weight easily as he gathered her into his lap. She fought against his grasp- a primal fear now taking over every sense she had. Darkness clouded her vision and with as much strength as she could gather she began to thrash her limbs against the solid form of his body. The man did not flinch, in fact he did not move a single inch. He let her thrash for a moment and then with great anger he growled and squeezed his arms around her waist until a terrible cracking was heard. Every bit of air in her lungs escaped in a silenced scream as the man slapped his hand over her mouth. 

“A pity you are so loud. I would have loved to tell you more.” The stranger muttered with a click of his tongue. Pain splintered across her ribs, and her breath was coming in uneven pants as she tried to process it. He drug a dirty nail down her tear soaked cheek. Silently she sobbed in his arms, realizing sometime between meeting him and now that she was going to die. His eyes were dark as they watched her cry, leaching over every piece of skin he could see exposed beneath her nightgown. Flicking out from behind his teeth he wet his lips with his tongue, and that is when she saw them. Two fangs, razor sharp in the place of his canine teeth. Unable to make a sound, her eyes widened- a reaction that lit an excited blaze behind his eyes. 

They spoke no longer from that point on. He descended upon her form so quickly that there was no chance to put up a fight. In one swift motion he tore into her throat with shinning teeth. Crimson and sticky, blood began to pool in the snow- soaking the white of her nightgown in a sickly pink. For some time she tried pushing against him, but as he gripped her tighter and drank more deeply from her throat- her efforts weakened. 

Her betrothed would find her the next day, in a pool of her own blood at the altar they were to be married at. Her family would be told she was killed by an animal, and they would take her body into the family morgue to be prepared for her funeral. It was there that she sat for three days in the frozen dark, awaiting a family member strong enough to bear witness to what had been done to her corpse. 

Within these three days her body began to change. While air no longer permeated her lungs, and blood no longer flowed through her veins- she began to move. A finger would twitch, and then a toe, followed by an entire hand and eventually an arm. On the second day she found herself nearly able to stand on her own. 

The world had changed when she awoke from her slumber. Sounds were deafeningly loud, the sunlight creeping from behind closed shudders was unbearable, and her mouth was so dry she feared she would choke. A dull pain was left in her throat, and upon inspection there was no wound. As the time ticked on she began to wonder if the entire incident had been a horrible dream. Perhaps she had been so ill her body had gone into a death like state and that's why she was in the morgue. 

As she muddled over the possibilities of what could have led her here, footsteps approached. Swinging open the doors of the room she occupied- a woman stood. The girl recognized her as one of her father’s maids, Wren. 

“Oh Wren! I am so happy to see you, where is my father?” The girl exclaimed, rushing towards the woman on unsteady legs. Still unsure of her creaking limbs the girl collided with the maid much more forcefully than intended. In a tangle of limbs they fell to the ground. As they fell the woman began to scream. Hastily she scattered across the floor, scraping her hands and knees against the stone as she went, blood beginning to seep from the wounds. 

The girl was confused by this reaction. Rocking back onto her feet she watched as the servant righted herself and stared in horror at the girl who had been dead only days before. Blood, vibrant and hot was now seeping from the woman's hands at an extreme rate and the coppery scent was wafting through the air. 

Hunger, primal and strong overtook the girl- and her eyes zeroed in on the gaping wounds. Racing forward too quickly for the woman to comprehend, the cold one grasped her hands and brought them greedily to her lips. Horrified, the servant tried to rip her hand away- in retaliation the girl grabbed a fistful of her hair and ripped downward- a sickening snapping following the motion. Limply, the servant woman fell to the ground. Shock overtook the girl momentarily as she looked upon what she had done. This feeling was quickly overcome by the hunger she felt and within seconds she had descended to the floor and begun to greedily drink from the dead woman’s wounds. 

She drank until there was not a drop left, and this left her feeling only slightly less ravished than before. She could hear voices above- no doubt belonging to those of visitors meant for her wedding now attending her wake. Amongst the cacophony of voices the girl could hear thrumming heartbeats, and blood rushing aimlessly through millions of veins. 

Dripping in the blood of her father’s servant she rose from the floor of the morgue and made her way upstairs to the somber gathering in the main hall of her family estate. As she neared the large mahogany doors hiding her relatives from view she was overcome with the hunger. Every cell in her body was on fire with want and her skin felt sallow and dry. 

Ice cold hands clasped the doorknobs and flung open the doors before her. Silence overtook the room as each person gazed upon the animated corpse of their Lamb. Theresa and Cecilia watched in horror as their youngest sister stared at the room- her eyes void of light. Blood caked her face and hair, the pretty blue dress they had picked for her burial had been turned a putrid shade of purple. 

“Lamb?” Cecilia called faintly, the glass of champagne she held falling to the marble below in a cascade of broken glass. The sound of its shattering seemed to snap the girl out of her trance and without a sound she rushed forward, sinking her teeth into the throat of a townsman in front of her. Screams erupted in the hall and deep within her an animal raged onward and tore through the entirety of the gathering hall. In moments the floors were slicked with blood and people lay motionless everywhere as chaos continued to erupt. 

Outside a blizzard raged, so fiercely that it would be recorded as the worst event to happen on that  night in history. The massacre at the Marsipone Estate would go unspoken about for centuries after.

⥈ ⥈ ⥈ ⥈ ⥈

“I dont remember what really happened after that.” The woman whispered, finally turning away from the window and back to Azirel who had been sitting motionless on the lounge for the entirety of her story. 

“I know I killed my sisters. It took me two days to dig through the carnage I caused to find them. I had-  I had broken their necks. Killed them quickly, I think to spare them.” Her voice had a soft tone, defeated as it spoke of the horrors she had committed. “At some point during it all I made my way over the wall. I figured whatever I had become originated from here. Kallias found my abilities freakish but useful, he was the first high lord I encountered and was smart enough to get into my good graces. He allows me to stay here as long as I leave his people alone, stay hidden. I have been trying to figure out what I am ever since.”

“Why wait all of this time to tell me this?” Azriel finally spoke. Turning his head to follow her as she made her way back towards him. She did not sit on the lounge, but leaned on the wall nearest the fireplace- observing him. 

“Because it is not something I am particularly proud of Azriel.” Was her simple response.

“I mean… why tell me now?” He rephrased. 

“Because I finally know what I am. I did not want to share my story without being sure first.” The finality in her tone urged him not to question her words but the shocking admission urged him onward. 

“What could you possibly mean?” He stood then, his stance guarded.

“I do not sleep, I do not eat, I dream not- and there is a hunger that resides in the deepest parts of me. I can never quell it- even being in this room with you shadow singer I am starving.” She placed her palms flat against she wall behind her and closed her eyes- sucking in a deep breath as she did so. “I thought surely when I began to grow older and not age that it was simply part of my curse- and then I did not die when I turned one hundred. I did not even feel as though I had aged at all.” She shuddered then and slowly sank to the ground. 

She was so small before him. An immortal creature, doomed to an eternity of hunger and solitude. Gradually he inched his way forward, and sank to his knees before her. 

“Azriel I am not alive.” She spoke firmly, opening her eyes wide to stare into the warm depths of his own. 

“But you speak, Star- and you cry, feel remorse, and daresay you even love.” Azriel challenged, grasping her hands as he spoke. She laughed at this, but it was not an amused sound- more one of anguish. 

“I am an animated corpse, Az. Cut me, I do not bleed. I have tried to die in countless ways- yet none have released me from this. I am able to do things I should not be able to achieve, it is not right.” 

Two hundred years. Only 182 spent as an immortal. 

“And imagine spending eighty two years wondering when you will die, only to realize you wont.” She whispered, searching his eyes for any kind of response. 

Azriel for the first time in many years was struck to silence. He was known for his silence, but silence had always been his upperhand, something he sought out. Within the quiet Azirel could listen- ponder. There were very few moments in his life where the silence had found him. In this moment, as he stared into her widened eyes the quiet hit him full force. He swallowed thickly, trying not to choke on the realization that she was something entirely new to him. 

“I am what human’s call a vampire. I am what your kind call an enemy.” Defeat layered her tone and she relaxed against the wall- her hands falling limp within his own. Her choice in words triggered something within the spymaster. She was many things mysterious to him- but an enemy was not one. In two decades he had never seen her harm anyone, nor had she confessed to such a crime to him. 

“Thats because I have not committed any.” She confided, smirking weakly when the shadowsinger huffed at her unannounced entry into his mind. 

“If you are in my head then you know my feelings.” He spoke, cupping her cheek with his hand. The skin was ice cold, a feeling he welcomed against the rough texture of his palms. 

“It matters to me not that you know now what you are. In the past three years my perception of what should be and what is has changed completely.” His next thought came to him so quickly she could not even spy upon it before it was verbalized.

“I would like for you to come to the night court with me to meet some friends of mine. I believe they will change your perspective on what you are feeling currently.” 

It had been decades since the enchantress had left the cabin in the wood. Yet staring into the eyes of the spymaster she craved the world beyond it. 

That night, shrouded by shadow and snow the spymaster and his darkstar made their way into the Winter Wood, never to return to the cabin again.

[jaune-submissive-and-breedable]

Merry ChristmAss

(Canon divergence, obviously)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Thank you all for inviting me over for Nondescript Winter Holiday, Ms Rose" Jaune said as he sipped his hot coco. A large blush covered his face as he sat on the living room sofa. "And this hot cocoa is amzing, Ms Belladonna"

Flanking him from all sides were Team Rwby's mothers, sipping hot chocolate and chatting with the flustered blonde. After the fall of atlas, his Everafterian adventure, and the the shell shock of returning home, he was glad to have some company in during the winter festivies. With Ren and Nora enjoying their own date and team RWBY no to be found, he'd being lying if he wasn't a little happy that their mothers invited him to spent the holidays with them. Even if it was a little weird.

"Think nothing of it, Jaune" The chirper and perky voice of Summer Rose said. She sat down a platter of cookies infront of him, giving him a generous view of her bust before she headed back to the kitchen "It's the least we can do for you since you've been keeping our girls safe all this time~"

To his left sat Kali Belladonna. She place a gentle had on his thigh and smiled, "And no need to be so formal my dear, we are all friends here, so first names are fine~"

*After all you won't be speaking for long* She thought as she decretely licked her lips.

Jaune sipped more hot cocoa and sighed. True he was present for aa lot of their adventure, but in truth he didn't feel worthy of their praise and addoration. In fact, ever since he got back he's constantly began doubting himself as a hero. If he was a hero, why was everything so hard, why couldn't he protect anyone.

As if she could sense his inner termoil, Willow took up residence on his right. Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, she leaned in and kissed his cheek, her other hand rubbing his other thigh.

"Jaune..." she started, "You may not know it, but you've change alot more lives than you believe." A blush graced her pale as she continued, "I can say for certain you've change mine."

From the other side, Kali watched with a cheeky smirk. "Easy there, Willow....Otherwise he might not want the present we got him~"

Jaune perked up at the word present. Even though he's been through hell, a fairytale world with an annoying cat, and the faced down the immortal grimm queen, he's still a child at heart.

"You got me a present?!" He squeeked, barely containing as he bounced in his seat. The sight and reaction of the boy sent pangs of lust through the bodies of Willow and Kali. Both women leaned into his side and began attempting to calm him down.

Hearing the commotion, Summer returned with a smile on her face. " I never tire of seeing kids jump for joy during nondescript winter holiday~" She sat on the coffee table in front of him as she continues "Yes, we got you a gift......In fact, I think IT'S TIME!!"

Jaune was confused as to why she yelled, but quickly came to the assumption that his friends were in another room with his gift. He kept is innocent smile until he saw two figures walking into the room. One being Raven Branwen, bandit queen and biologic mother of Yang. The other the immortal grimm queen herself, Salem.

"Surprise~~" she sang with a smirk as she watched Jaune get up to confront her, only for Willow and Kali to pull him back into his seat.

"Now now, that won't do~. And i came all this way just for you too~" she pouted playfully

"What is she talking about?!" Jaune demanded as he looked at the other three present.

The women smiled and rose from their positions joining Raven and Salem in front of him.

"Well...I know who stressed you've been lately, and I know we all grow tired of this war. I swear Ozpin is just gonna get our children kill in his wars, just like he did my Tai.." Summer growled before her smile returned "so I made a little with Salem here, and she agreed to stop her war on Ozpin..But." she booped his nose again "You have to do something for her~"

While his training and experiences told him to run and get reinforcments, his curiousity told him to wait and see what the grimm woman wanted. If he could end the war without anymore blood shed, he do it. Even if it ment his sacrifice.

"Alright, what does she want me to do?" he replied, patiently waiting for a reply.

Salem smiled and chuckled at his agreence. She closed the distance between them and pulled his chin upwards so his gaze met hers. "Tell me boy are you familiar withwhat your generation calls "Cake"?"

He nodded slowly.

At his confermation, she stood up and turned around, the rest of the women joining her. Before he could ask what they were doing or what this had to do with her request, he watched as each of them dropped their bottoms exposing their fat milfy ass to him.

"Ah...a....aa..." he stammered repeatedly, making the five women giggle.

"As for what you must do, dear boy, You must devour my "cake" until I'm thoroughly satisfied~" Salem purred

"And as a reward for your heroic deed, you can eat all of ours for dessert~" Kali purred next, giving her bellabooty a mighty slap to make it ripple.

Jaune sat on the sofa dumbfounded. After everything he's been through, everything he's seen, nothing could have prepared him for this. He had five curvy milfs standing with their asses out and telling him to eat them. He pinched himself to ensure he wasn't dreaming or still in the Everafter. He would slap himself until a shadowy tentacle wrapped around his arms and dragged him forward until he kneeled before Salem's massive pale moon.

"What are you waiting for?" She teased as she looked down on him. She placed one of her deceptively strong hands on his head and pushed him into her ass.

"Bon appetite~"

_____________________________________________________________

Yes, I made an entire prompt around this image I had commissioned.

Anyways, please support the artist Prayforcummies. They did a really great job on it, and I should probably get one for team RWBY and Cinder since, you know...Salem's here

[jet-teeth]

Another concept/sketch batch I have been sitting on for a while, suppose I could toss this out into the aether now haha Basically it's a whole chaos space marine warband based around mimicry and infiltration - they look like a suspiciously normal space marine chapter from the outside but OOPS! It's all mimics.

(And not just the space marines/power armor, but everything is game: crew fused with their vehicles, transforming weapon "familiars," etc. It gets silly.)

They stem from the Raven Guard but can end up anywhere, and will take on the colors/appearance necessary to pass undetected. there is a catch though: their presence has a tendency to cause things around them to start to warp and glitch and in extreme cases, essentially cause little warp micro-rifts that end up mimic-ifyng things around them - so they pretty much have to operate solo to have the best chance at keeping their disguise up.

This CAN work to their advantage though if they are attacking in full-force as a warband, and some older members might have fallen too far to Chaos to keep up a normal "shell" anymore, so the overly mutated fellows have to be put to different uses (in fact, there a degree of hierarchy of mutation stages that influences how they organize themselves as a warband & determines everyone's primary functions. And it's not really one over the other either - there are not all that many of them, so they have more luck spreading their influence clandestinely versus relying on brute force of any kind, that would have to be for emergencies. So, some of the more senior & mutated fellows might be more powerful on a physical/psychic level, but it is also like a forced retirement from their infiltration role, so it limits what they can do to further the warband's interests.)

[shiny-jr]

Could you do a piece of the octotrio(individually) where they confess to the reader but they reject them because they don't like them,the whole chapter 3 situation, and the reader knows that they obviously do even more shady shit? Like Jade and Floyd are pretty much confirmed part of the fish mafia, Azul is a slimeball capitalist and by relation to the twins will do even more deplorable shit. Kinda like what you did for Malleus, Kalim and Leona,please?

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto.

Summary: You already had a handful with adjusting to life at Night Raven College, what you didn't need was the extra attention from a curious student of Octavinelle. Those of Octavinelle were bad news, and you did not need whatever bad news they decided to deliver to you with a bouquet of flowers.

Note: Anon, as soon as I read this request, I made a face. And not a bad face. It's hard to describe, but to assure you, I immediately muttered, "Now that's what I'm talking about." I'm so terribly picky with accepting requests, and I hate it, but this one managed to catch my eye immediately. Man, do I love rejection requests. Rejected sad and crazy boy hours are here.

Added: I drafted this up months ago and haven't touched it until now. I've been struggling on Floyd's part, so I just decided to finish Azul's part and put that out.

When you suddenly awoke in a floating coffin and miraculously became a student at this magic school, you expected surprises but not like this. As if trying to go through the daily motions while wondering which student would snap next wasn't enough, now you had a particular fellow lurking about and watching you. It would only be a matter of time before they grew tired of waiting and would decide to strike.

Oh, would you look at that. This greedy merman now has his sights set on acquiring your love. How did this happen? Why is this happening? It's difficult to tell, but for now you can only hope that he isn't concocting some terrible plot for you.

He's terribly intelligent and much too cunning, then he has his business facade to top it off. But so many times, so many times, his facade has nearly cracked around you. In fact, you wouldn't exactly call him "cool and collected." There's a little desperation in his tone when he asks for your time in a worthwhile exchange, he states. Or how his hand grips yours and lingers for much longer than is necessary whenever he has an excuse to shake your hand. And the freebies, oh god the freebies. You don't trust anything "free" from him, but he's always offering an abundance of goods, a token of goodwill, he says. Not that you trust that either.

Azul generally seems like a talented and clever guy destined for success. But, you prefer to have no affiliation with him. It's his methods to success that you can't exactly approve of. The scams, the tricks, the intimidation, every bad deed was done in such a meticulous way under certain circumstances he sets so that he faces no repercussions in the end should something go astray. Which is why when you caught on to his desire to be close to you and give you gifts, it placed you on edge as you anticipated the big moment he would act on those feelings.

"Why, hello, dearest. What a pleasant surprise seeing you here! You do know you are always welcome in my lounge." Azul exclaimed in greeting, as if the twins hadn't herded you here. The dorm leader stood in front of your table, serving you the food you begrudgingly ordered once you realized you wouldn't be allowed to go off the hook so easily. "I hope the meal is to your liking. Now that the opportunity has presented itself, I'd like to speak with you. I must admit, I've taken quite the liking to you, so please, I implore you, consider the rare proposition I'm about to offer." Azul flashed that award-winning business smile, as he held up a bouquet of flowers decorated with colorful pastel shells. He had practiced his speech for hours, and now he was awaiting your response. However, when he noticed your hesitance and obvious discomfort, his heart stopped.

His smile became more strained as he went off script, attempting to further convince them that he was a worthy suitor.

"I assure you, I will be a wonderful significant other. Not only am I the head of the Octavinelle dorm, but I am a top student as well. As you know, I also own the Mostro Lounge and have a great many connections to students across campus."

With every second that passed, he was growing more desperate. That much was obvious.

"If you desire gifts, I will deliver gifts. If you wish for affection, I will drown you in my affection. If you ask for praise, I will pen poetry that rivals literature venerating the most coveted figures in the land and sea's histories!"

Well, this was awkward. You did not anticipate him to have the brazenness to confess publicly. It felt more like a business proposition than a confession. Maybe this was a part of his plan to profess his affection in his lounge, a controlled environment, where there was a higher chance you would accept under the pressure of the many eyes of other customers taking notice. His smile faltered the more the unease festered in his gaze as each second passed.

The answer was no. You wouldn't date him even if the deal included a weekly allowance, because you had a lot more to lose. You weren't sure what category Azul fell into. Acquaintance? Yes. Friend? Possibly, but that was pushing it a bit.

The owner of the lounge was greedy, cunning, and conniving. No matter what he had, it never was enough. Even when he swiped the powers of countless fellow students, he still wanted more. If you gave him an inch, he would take a mile. And you weren't exactly quick to forgive him for his many past transgressions.

Even if he's claimed to have mended all his ways, repented, seen the light, and made a switch, Azul remains a business man above all. And honestly, you'd rather not be dragged into his affairs, especially since you're fairly certain that some of the things he's done may be unlawful or accomplished by going through loopholes in laws. All of his attention and time was consumed by his academics, his business, and creating other deals to earn a profit. These were the three that took up his time the most, and it kept him incredibly busy. That was one thing, the other was this: How long would things be sweet before he allowed his desire to sour the relationship? Sure, at first he may shower you in gifts, cash, and affection, but you're sure that eventually the relationship would become bitter by his possessiveness and bottomless greed.

So... you're declining... I see. Perhaps the incentives aren't enough. Allow me to offer you something more. He felt humiliated. The rejection gave him flashbacks to primary school and his constant refusals then, but this one hurt ten times harder. Back then those were just silly childhood crushes that were worth nothing, this was different. This was worth more than all the cash in his vault. Eventually, he improved himself in his youth with stubborn determination, and that's how he would win again. He would use charm, manipulation, underhanded tactics, wit, and stubborn determination to ensnare your heart.

[thepriceofsurvival]

Oh what am i thinking about?

Not much, just the fact that Jean was betrayed by his own parents and sold like a goat to an abusive cult where he was beaten, waterboarded, raped, forced to break his own fingers and play Exy at an elite level every single day, developing an unhealthy codependency on both his abuser as well as Kevin because that is what Tetsuji was grooming them to be, made a genuine connection with Kevin who took his time to learn Jean’s native language for Jean’s sake, only for Kevin to one day actually be strong enough to leave the abuse, the ravens and Jean behind and join his biological father’s team and having Andrew take him under his wing, slowly recovering from his injuries and finding himself while Jean was still there, still in the Nest, still being abused by Riko, a shell of a man after being broken down and having everything that made him him taken from him in order to make him complacent, and having no option to ever, ever leave that behind.

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

Trigger Warning: A bit of gore and death

13. 𝓒𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓟𝓾𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽

A soft knock echoed through the room, yet it was met with a disheartening silence. Undeterred, he entered, his presence a commanding force in the quiet space. "You cannot confine yourself in your room all night," the vampire declared with stern authority, a hint of frustration lingering in his tone. 

She responded only by rolling in her bed, seeking refuge under the covers. He tried to ignore how this reaction crushed a small part within him. 

"Tell me," he pressed on, "what did you expect to get out of this? Did you wish to die in the cold?"

His mind revisited the events of three nights ago. She had almost died. That was the cold harsh truth. It was sickening, horrifying even. It had terrified him in a way he hadn’t expected. Scenarios of what could have happened made dread gawk at his inside. The fact was that he had been lucky to find her, Dorian could have tried searching for her in the opposite direction. She would have been attacked and there would have been no one to protect her from that vermin. After bringing her back, he had remained by her side all day as she slept, the events of the night having left her completely drained of any energy. He had listened as she let out soft expirations, as her mortal heart beated and watched as her chest slowly rose and fell. 

So weak…

Her existence was so ephemeral.

That night, as these thoughts had crossed his mind, Dorian had inched closer to her neck. He could fix this. He could make her better and everlasting; eternal. His daughter – his sweet doll – could forever remain safe and unaltered by time. But he didn’t. He couldn’t turn her at this instant, no matter how much he wished to. It was forbidden to do so to a child her age. He had to wait.

Tonight, as he stepped into her room, he wanted to tell her that, had he not been there to save her, she might have met an untimely demise. That this was the reason why she hadn't been allowed to go out. Yet, the words remained trapped in his mouth, sealed between his lips.

Resigned to the persistent silence, he seated himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on her form cocooned beneath the covers. "It didn't hurt you. It is gone now," he spoke with a gentler cadence, seeking to comfort. 

Dorian liked when the child was calm and well behaved, but this depressing silence was not what he had wished for. Her response was an unyielding silence, prompting him to rise with a sense of resignation.

"What," she started with a scratchy voice, breaking the silence, "was that ?"

He halted, turning back to her with a glimmer of hope at the sound of her voice. "What do you mean, starshine?" he inquired, his tone inviting conversation and relieved that she was willing to engage.

"The monster," she whispered, a tremor of fear evident in her voice.

He sighed, grappling with the decision of whether to disclose the truth. Eventually, he settled back down, choosing to take advantage of her sudden willingness to speak. Refusing to answer would only make her retreat into her shell once again.

"To complete the process of turning a person into a vampire, that person must drink the blood of the vampire that bit them. A Sanguini, the thing you saw, is what results if that last step isn't taken. Slowly, these creatures turn into ravenous beasts, going mad with bloodlust. They aren't vampires, but rather something far more disgraceful and pathetic. The shame of our world."

Silence persisted as she absorbed this revelation. The vampire lifted the covers, unveiling her tear-streaked face. His fingers traced the contours of her cheek as he admitted, "I feared for your safety," his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability, emotions surfacing against his intentions.

She turned her back to him. "I want my mum," she mumbled.

His hands clenched involuntarily, resentment tinged with regret at how even in death, the woman retained significance for the girl. "I am here," he declared, the unspoken words ‘And she isn't’ hanging in the air.

Her response was silence. "You have me," he asserted more firmly, his fingers gently threading through her hair. "And you need me," he added, a subtle plea beneath his words. She needed him. Just as much as he needed her.

⊱ ────── {⋆☾⋆} ────── ⊰

The atmosphere hung heavy with a somber hush, disrupted occasionally by the clatter of utensils against porcelain as she quietly partook in her meal. Her eyes would intermittently dart toward the vampire sharing the table, yet they swiftly retreated back to the contents of her plate. It marked their first shared dinner since the harrowing incident a week ago. As she cautiously chewed her food, the unspoken tension in the air lingered. Did the vampire across from her anticipate a gesture of thanks? Did he expect acknowledgement for his actions, or was he simply indifferent to her feelings? Gratitude, however, was a complex sentiment to navigate when mixed with the knowledge that he was also the perpetrator of her parents' death.

Leaving during the cold winter night had been reckless, even perilous. The storm's cruel embrace had slowed her journey, and she found herself fortunate to have escaped the clutches of the biting cold. The storm had slowed her down and she was lucky she hadn't died from the cold… or that awful beast. She finished her meal in silence, rising without uttering a word. As she moved to leave, he halted her with an unexpected announcement.

"I have something for you."

With a subtle yet firm touch, the vampire guided her towards the door of the basement, a realm she had yet to explore. There was an air of mystery about the descent into the lower levels, an uncharted territory that piqued her curiosity. Descending the stairs, she couldn't help but notice a serene smile gracing the duke's face, adding an enigmatic layer to the unfolding scenario. 

The pathway, illuminated by the flickering light of torches lining the walls, exuded an eerie chill that seemed to cling to the air. As (Y/n) and the vampire continued their exploration, a distant door loomed at the far end of the corridor shrouded in shadows. However, they never reached it. The journey paused at a second door.

The first thing that came to her was the putrid smell. Next, was the figure slumped against the wall opposite to her. The duke widened the door, ushering light into the room.

She recoiled, a futile hand pressed against her mouth, but the horrified scream still erupted. Mary, the servant who had unwittingly aided her escape, lay there. (Y/n)'s eyes collided with vacant sockets. The girl slumped in the corner, bathed in blood. (Y/n)'s gaze trailed down her face, fixing on the throat. A crimson grin seemed to mock her. The slash across her throat emanated more life than her lifeless, gaping mouth.

One arm and one leg were bent at awkward angles as though she was a marionette that had been carelessly dropped. The remaining limbs lay a few meters away, severed from the rest. Entrails spilled unceremoniously on the floor.

(Y/n) crumpled to her knees, legs weakened. The world around her blurred as waves of anguish crashed over her, threatening to engulf every ounce of composure she possessed. In the midst of her torment, she unleashed a guttural scream of pain and despair that echoed through the emptiness around her. Tears streamed down her face as uncontrollable sobs wracked her body.

Two hands steadied her shoulders. "Take this as a warning," he declared, the words carrying a weight that extended beyond their immediate meaning. His grip on her shoulders tightened, the pressure a physical manifestation of the gravity of his words. "Actions have consequences, my dear."

The vampire leaned closer until his lips almost touched the girl's ear. His voice, low and intense, carried a chilling warning. "Don't you dare try to leave again," he hissed, the words spoken with a sense of finality. The proximity of his threat sent shivers down her spine. “I will find you. I will always find you. And everyone involved will have to pay for your foolishness," he affirmed, the weight of those words emphasizing an unwavering determination

He rose, leaving her sobbing in the wake of his departure, the door closing behind him.

(Y/n) clutched her chest, sobbing harder. This was her fault. She had brought this upon a poor girl who had done nothing wrong. And here she was now; forced to confront the consequences of her actions. She wept until no more tears flowed, until her voice became too hoarse to continue.

[sugar-grigri]

What would happen if we killed death ?

Here we are, Chapter 150, so let's not waste any more time and get straight to the analysis. 

This chapter is rich, incredibly rich, both in what it says and in the way it is presented. This time I'm going to tackle the visuals directly in the first part of the chapter.

As you've probably gathered by now, this chapter deals with the evolution of Denji's dream, as the title clearly indicates.

What's interesting is to see how it plays out visually. The alleyway is a visual element that has been used several times by Fujimoto to signify a period in Denji's life, his childhood.

It metaphorically represents not only an unhappy childhood and loneliness, but also the gap between a needy child ignored by society. Worse still, he is excluded. When Denji emancipates himself, the focus is on passers-by, on others. As Denji symbolically leaves the alleyway, he realises that he is now part of society. His dream of a normal life should be understood as a desire to live in a community, among others, and to make friends with them. 

In other words, getting out of the alley is Denji's lifelong dream, the key to his self-fulfilment and to a certain path forward. 

It's a metaphor that Fujimoto loves once again. In this illustration, for example, Aki and Power are heading towards the light while Denji is still in the shadows. Bathed in light, Aki and Power represent both a key to Denji's happiness and fulfilment, just as the light represents the end of a journey: their destiny, the end of their own lives. 

This illustration is extraordinary because Denji's gaze is fixed backwards, towards the alleyway, focusing on his flaws and his past. He is unaware, because he is not looking at them, that the key to his fulfilment has already been found, that he is in the process of leaving the alleyway. What's more, even if this means the end of Power and Aki's existence, they are serene, as if they know that happiness, even without them, will await Denji. 

That's my first comment, so let's move on to what's happening in terms of action and dialogue. 

Nayuta focuses on ordinary life, which helps Denji realise that he has reached it. It may seem odd that Denji is only just realising this now, but he is someone who operates by the senses. Moving away from the alley visually helps him realise his emancipation, as does seeing these ordinary people.

But above all, if Denji didn't entirely realise it, it's also because he wasn't happy in this ordinary life, as the last arc showed. Torn by the fact that he was no longer Chainsaw Man, Denji didn't realise that he was ordinary because he thought that was what would make him happy, and as he wasn't, he didn't think that his dream had been achieved for some time. It may sound complex, but once again it makes a lot of sense when you realise that Denji is someone who functions by sensation. 

But it's even more subtle than that: Denji had realised that he was getting closer to his dream, but that wasn't why he allowed himself to dream about something else. And that's precisely where the power of this chapter lies: it's by starting to dream of something else that he reconnects with his identity, because the contract between him and Pochita is the pursuit of a dream. In other words, Denji was not only Chainsaw Man to protect Nayuta from the public hunters, he was no longer Chainsaw Man because he no longer allowed himself to dream. Until then, Chainnaw Man was an empty shell.

When Denji says he wants to become Chainsaw Man, he means he now wants to dream.

We come to the figure of the raven crushed by Denji as he runs: what does it mean? 

One possible interpretation is that we don't know. I'm not saying this to clear my name, but because I think that's its real symbolism. In the West, the raven is generally a sign of bad omens, whereas in other cultures, such as Japanese or Celtic, the raven is the symbol of a god, the sun in Japan. Even if we could associate the raven with the metaphor of light coming out of the alleyway, the fact remains that it is not an animal that is appreciated or venerated in Japan, notably for the fact that it is a vulture that picks through rubbish.

It's this ambiguity that the raven represents, something that can't be pinned down. It's interesting, because by trampling on it, Denji turns to another dream, is it a good omen or a bad one? No one knows whether claiming to be Chainsaw Man will help Denji find happiness. 

That would be one possible interpretation. But for the sake of completeness, there is one last one. 

When I say that symbolism is hard to establish, it's only when I refute an obvious one. Let me explain: whether it's Bucky and his death, Yoru and Asa's death, the birds and Yuko being killed by Fake!CSM, and finally that raven. It's obvious that not only the raven but the bird in general represents death but also the end of a period, an era, a cycle.

Not only do the birds mark the end of one cycle, they also signal the beginning of a new one. Bucky's death opens Part 2, Yoru marks the beginning of Asa's second life, and Yuko's death ushers in the arrival of the most mysterious character in Part 2: Fake!CSM. The Raven marks the beginning of a new dream.

I think we need to be more subtle in this analysis and see it through to the end. Asa and Denji both do the same thing, they either crush birds or they give death to death.

It seems impossible but just as the bird that is supposed to fly in the skies is rarely found under our feet to be crushed. Asa and Denji are the two champions, the two candidates to prevent Death, and little by little the birds mark the cogs in a mechanism that is being put in place: the confrontation with Death. 

My various interpretations can add up, and when they do, they lead to one question: when we give death to death, what happens? Is it necessarily a bad thing ?

The fact that the birds symbolise a link with death is correlated with the fact that Denji loses his family and his dogs when his flat burns down. The destruction of his home represents the erasure of Denji's landmarks, what he had built up, returning to the cause of departure, since we are at the beginning of a new era, a new cycle. 

The relationship with death is correlated by Barem, who not only intends to fight it but also sees it as a common denominator for all species. 

I love the play on words that the flamethrower hybrid introduces: "I figure killing Asa wouldn't fire you up that much", it really supports Barem's desire to arouse Denji and get him to react. 

But all that aside, there are other things to relate. Not least with our other protagonist: Asa.

To return to the metaphor of the alley, visually and symbolically, she's the one who joined Denji in the alley. She's not just a symbol of Denji's step towards others, but also a symbol of others' step towards him. 

Fujimoto encourages us to reread the chapters using the key vectors of the dog and the cat.

This line is the centrepiece. 

Not only does Barem support the death once again of Denji's family, his dogs and his cat, but it's much more subtle than that. They are the key to a love that is not only universal, but also the key to Asa and Denji's happiness, and to their ability to bond with other species. When Denji wanted to save Asa from the falling devil, he told her straight away to think of cats and dogs. 

They are also a symbol of progress, Asa bonding with her cat after the death of her mother, while Denji bonds with Pochita after the death of his father. 

They are also what unites the two protagonists of Chainsaw Man: a cat with Asa and a dog with Denji. Just as Fujimoto likes to emphasise the influence they have on each other, whether it's Asa who places Denji between the criminal and the cat or how Yoru will behave like a dog because of Nayuta. 

So what does Barem's line clearly mean? What I find incredible is that every time Barem tries to put Denji against the wall, he always unconsciously provides an element of the answer. 

At their first meeting in chapter 140: Barem tries to present Denji with a dilemma. Asa Mitaka or Chainsaw Man? The answer is unconsciously found in the two fingers he plunges into Denji's nose: both. 

Here again, Barem thinks he has Denji pegged, it's not Asa that matters to him but his dogs and cat. But note the plural, Denji only has one cat, Meowy. Now we make the connection: Asa represents the cat. She's also important to Denji. 

If you're not convinced by Barem's unconscious response, then here again you can see a parasitic gesture in the fact that he knocks Denji down. Who else always falls at the wrong time? Who fell when their family was also dying? Well, yes. Barem's only point here is that even if Asa and Denji don't know each other very well, they don't really need to, given their similarities.

Once again, Barem thinks he's cornering Denji when he doesn't realise that he's just included Asa in what he's saying. Once again this is symbolic writing, with elements of foreshadowing and denouement of the characters subtly placed in Barem's lines. Barem likes to make prophetic announcements, as he is also a believer, but his message escapes him because he is not aware of the work in which he finds himself.

But that doesn't help us to understand what happens when we kill death ?

The characters can't guess at the omens that lie ahead. Just as their own message eludes them. 

The only thing we know for sure that these birds are announcing is the end of an era and a new era.

The answer is so obvious that it escapes us. We have seen the resemblance between these two protagonists, their families, their losses, the destruction of their homes, their landmarks. We could say that this would be mourning.

But moving on despite the end of all these cycles, without knowing what lies ahead. Isn't that just growing up?

[almostmylove]

The red string of fate

Part 1

Sorry for any mistakes

Jason Todd x reader

Synopsis: you love Jason even after his death. One says on one of your regular patrols you spot something, something red. a string. Could it be the work of a villain to lure you away? You knew better than that but it’s too tempting for you not to. What’s the worst that could happen? (song inspiration: desert rose by lolo zauai)

Gotham city weather is unpredictable, much like people. one moment it's calm, sunny even as the sun shines down at its people and before you know it, its pouring rain in Mourning.

that how it has always been, and I much prefer that way. it reflected me in some way. the rain was a companion of Gotham over the past years, reminding me of my dance with pain. it had been five years since I have seen Jason, five years since joker's crowbars silenced his vibrant laugh, five years since the earth swallowed him whole, never to been seen by me or his son. I remember that day so clearly like it happened yesterday, kaleidoscope of terror and grief. the news, the frantic call from Bruce, the desperate denial that turned into my soul crushing cries. I went to the funeral and watched as they buried him, an empty shell into the cold, unforgivable ground. maybe when they buried him, they also buried a part of me with him. I was broken. Maybe even still now. In my memory I was planning on telling Jason- considering we were together, but we were kids back then, around 15-16, I didn't know what to do but I knew together we would figure it out. I was a broken girl who had lost her only lover but now I am a mom, a mom that needs to pick herself up and put her needs aside to take care of her child. I couldn't bear the future that I would bring my future child if I stay helpless and emotional. I found out I was 4 weeks pregnant with Micheal the day Jason died but before all of that I was known as nightingale. I was kind and forgiving, the typical hero you could say, yet when Jason died, me, and batman seem to be affected the same in some way. the only difference is that he was able to find someone else, I wasn't. my weapon that one helped people and offered forgiveness now was fueled by Jason's death. I used it as my own way to deliver a righteous and vengeance driven hand. even though the criminals I fought never really deserved it, I looked at them all the same. a potential joker in the making. I fought harder, more faster and became reckless with everything I did in a poor attempt to fill my heart with anything but emptiness. but even in the heat of battle, Jason's face would flash before my eyes, that boyish smirk that could both break me and lift me up, his hand in mine and my hands on my growing stomach. that's when I decided to take things slow and step down from my second life as nightingale, the life I had with Jason. the rest of those 4ish year I dedicated my life to my son, Micheal, a sweet baby boy that looked like a carbon copy of Jason. They had the same blueish eyes that under the right light can look a greenish tint, and the same raven hair color. it's almost laughable that the only thing that he got from you was your skin tint. the only thing you hated was the fact--truly you never fully dropped your second life-- still helping out every once in a while, when it got really bad. it was also nice that the Wayne's still saw you and Micheal as family and sometimes would help babysit him as you went to work when you didn't have a babysitter. Bruce Wayne for the most part would pay for your house, even though you refused before, only asking him to put that money into Micheal's education but he did both either way. (he loves his grandchild) now most days you just worked and played with your son. Gotham was way too dangerous for you to let your son play outdoors anyways.

there it is again! I sighed putting the newspaper down onto the marble kitchen counter. on the paper in big bold letter read 'Gotham's new crime lord strikes again'. at first, I had only heard whispers about a new player in town that was causing trouble, brutally effectively, mercilessly punishing criminals with a cold almost unhuman manner! his gruesome tactics have landing him in first page of every news in Gotham! reminds me of how I was a long time ago. it's ridiculous! I'm surprised bats hasn't caught this lunatic yet. rumors say that he's shrouded in red and black, a grim reaper type of person. they call him the red hood. I sigh once more, putting a hand to my forehead. I don't have time to think about this. I need to get ready for patrol since the batman and robin won't be able to make it for-I'm not too sure why. " Where the hell is she" I grumble under my breath, looking over to leo who is watch a hero movie on the tv. his babysitter, Sarah needed to be here a while ago and without her I can't leave for patrol without feeling uneasy. I walk over to where leo is watching tv and wearing a robin Pj that I managed to find at that store. he looked so cute wearing it. he truly looked like Jason. I find myself smiling fondly but I'm quickly interpret by the ringing and vibration of my phone in my pocket.

I pull it out and answer it, already knowing who it is.

I go to speak but she interrupts me before I could say anything. her voice a mixture of worry, franticness and apologetic.

“I’m so sorry [reader] but a family emergency came up. I’m going to have to cancel for tonight” she says frantically.

Through gritted teeth I manage to stay calm even though internally I'm freaked out and angry at the random cancelation. "...Okay, okay, I understand things come up. But today, Sarah? Today is the one day this week I needed you, you knew that! We agreed on this ages ago.” I say trying to keep my voice calm and collected but failing

“I know I know, can’t you let me off this one time? I promise this won’t happen again!”

“No, no, 'a family emergency' isn't good enough, Sarah. Not today!" I press two fingers against the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"What kind of family emergency can't wait one evening? I mean, please!” By this pint I know I’m being unreasonable, but I’m about leave for a routine patrol, and I need someone to take care of him.

I move around the room, running a hand through m already messy hair while paceing around the kitchen.

“can’t you just stay home instead of going where you were going? It doesn’t hurt not to go for once or you can ask anyone else.” she says this time little more confused than apologetic.

“Because... because I need you here! I have to be" I stop myself before almost spilling the real reason why "... Look, it's important. And I have a five-year-old who can't exactly fend for himself. You're the only one I trust, the only one I've got!”

My voice gets softer yet sharp as I glance over to where leo is peacefully watching his hero show. Deep breaths he said deep breaths. I inhale and then exhale my chest rising and lowering.

I must set a good example for my child.

“Aunt Carol then. she would be happy to take of leo, no ?"

"She's out of town. Nana's got that bingo night and frankly, I don't think she can handle Leo right now. Everyone else...is just... not available! What am I supposed to do?” I sound like I’m on the verge of tear, turning more desperate the longer this conversation continues.

I take one last deep breath before asking once again. “Look, Sarah, can't you even try to figure something out? Can't your family manage just one night? I'm begging you. I'll even pay you double, triple! Please, I need your help.”

I listen carefully for her response, I felling like my heart is about to beat out do my chest.

“ I'm sorry there’s nothing I can do, I really am” I heard. Sign from the other side and I snap. my voiced laced with sarcasm I respond, kind of unreasonable. "I'm so sorry there's nothing I can do?" That's it? That's all you've got. You knew the schedule. You know what I have on... You know all of this, Sarah.” look at the clock again. Damn it! 20 minuets before I need to leave. This is so bad, I don’t know what to do, I can’t bring this girl into this problem.

“Do you even realize the stress you're putting me under?!This isn't just about a babysitting gig, this is about... about... ugh! Never mind. This isn't your problem!”

I end the call abruptly, almost slamming the phone down. Silence hangs in the air for a moment before i explodes with frustration.now I’m left to ponder what to do.

To myself, but loud enough to be heard I whisper angrily. "Great! Just great! Now what am I supposed to do?! I can't just leave Gotham defenseless, and I can't just leave Leo alone! This is catastrophic!"

“ why don’t we take mr capitano and bring him with us, that how we can protect him from evil marmelo” i hear .

i turn around to when

Something clicks in me.

I starts to pace again of her footsteps a sharp counterpoint to her.

I glance over to hear a small voice calling me from the living room.

“Mommy? Are you okay?” Lead question, his voice soft and concerned.

I give him a small smile before walking over to him and kneeling down.

“ why dont we go on a secret mission like mr capitano and mr amazing?”

I see his face immediately light up, his eyes sparkling with joy.

[tribbetherium]

The Early Rodentocene: 5 million years post-establishment

(Remastered from this entry)

In the Middle Temperocene, a hundred and fifty million years after life was put onto this planet, the creatures that roam and live and thrive upon its surface have attained a pinnacle of diversity, with such a diverse range of sizes, shapes, colors and niches that it seems improbable, impossible even, to fathom that they once had a common origin, from a single humble species.

But this was not always the case: early on, when the world was young and its creatures small and unassuming, the animals that filled its forests, plains and grasslands were still clearly of close kin, recognizable as hamsters- or at least a similar related rodent. Yet they had already begun to fill the niches that were open in the empty ecosystem, quickly diversifying in a short period of time into grazers, seed-eaters, insectivores, omnivores, foragers and predators. In a retrospective view, these early species were the forerunners of peculiar, very derived, and unexpected descendants, yet already bearing the beginnings of the defining characteristics of these clades. But during the time in which they lived, they were but ordinary creatures: living their lives blissfully unaware of the grand future to come.

Among the first pioneers of the tree-tops in the Early Rodentocene was the speckled peachpitter (Archaeosciurucricetus punctus), a descendant of the hairy-tailed hamster subspecies Cricetulus griseus hirsutolongicauda. Their long, hairy tails proved useful to balance as they clambered up the trunks and branches of the abundant stonefruit trees, and the atavistic re-emergence of a fifth digit on each paw, independent to that of Cricetulus griseus pentadactylus, would prove an advantage in scaling and getting a grip on the rough bark.

In this lush, predator-free environment, the speckled peachpitter was a bold, fearless and abundant creature, leaping from branch to branch in great numbers out in broad, open daylight: entirely unconcerned by aerial attackers which had not existed at this point. It was the influence of this miniscule arboreal hamster, in fact, that would greatly shape the evolution of HP-02017's plant life. Feeding on the large, single-seeded fruits of the earliest stonefruit trees, the peachpitter destroyed countless forests in its time by eating too many of their large, vulnerable seeds, and created a selective pressure toward smaller, harder seeds and more protected pits: bringing about the early forebearers of the many-seeded pebblefruit and the hard shelled disnuts, both of which remain highly successful in later eras.

With hardly any enemies to concern them, the speckled peachpitter is active all day round, resting intermittently and foraging day, night, or Beta-twilight. In temperate areas where snow is present they may reduce activity and reproduction during the cold winter months, but in tropical climes they forage and breed all year round, producing large population spikes from time to time depending on local food availability. With hardly any enemies, speckled peachpitters are also rather neglectful parents, producing many young in litters of six to ten on average, nursing them only for two weeks until their fur grows in and their eyes open, and almost immediately leaving them behind to fend for themselves. With little else to threaten them, their population is instead leveled off by high mortalities from harsh competition during periods of food scarcity. Until something emerges to keep their numbers in check, they will continue this boom-and-bust cycles of population, and live a risky but fearless lifestyle, all the while shaping the world they live in, by forcing other life-forms to adjust to their ravenous numbers.

Agile in the treetops, this early species will, in time, become the ancestor of the Arbocricetidae: a vast, diverse lineage of tree-climbing species with prehensile grasping limbs and fur-covered tails that are skilled acrobats among the branches of their canopy home. While many of them would remain similar to the speckled peachpitter as small, recognizeable rodents, two particular lineages of interest would arise from this group. One, developing opposable digits, larger body sizes and larger brains from acquiring complex social behaviors, would become the primate-like lemunkies. Another, developing membranous webs of skin between their limbs to travel from tree to tree, would eventually progress into powered flight: giving rise to the earliest ratbats.

Meanwhile, across the continents of Nodera, Westerna, Ecatoria and Easaterra, a descendant of Cricetulus griseus pentadactylus would instead spread far and wide across the plains and grasslands, its efficient bipedal locomotion allowing them to cross the land bridges before they sank early on. The most widespread of these, the common plains jerma (Dipodoeocricetus saltus) would make it to all four of the major continents and in time dominate the open grounds. Only the isolated Peninsulaustra and Borealia, having separated earlier, would be out of their reach, though these would eventually be reached far later by small species rafting or migrating over times of briefly-lowered sea levels.

The common plains jerma is distinguished by its long and powerful hind limbs, and, perhaps surprisingly, its long tail, which compared to some of its later descendants was still relatively short and stiff, comprised of few but elongated caudal vertebrae derived from those of the ancestral Cricetulus griseus, which had proportionately long tails for hamsters. These structures allowed them to balance and run and leap on two legs, enabling them to cover large expanses of ground in search of food and evade some of the earliest predators of the Early Rodentocene.

The common plains jerma is both a skilled runner and hopper, moving about quickly on its two hind limbs while its forelimbs are relegated to grooming, digging burrows and holding and grasping its food, which may consist of grasses, seeds, fruit, and the occasional small insect if it can catch them. Common plains jermas breed all-year round, with their young being fairly precocial for hamsters, born larger and fully-furred and more developed. Their eyes are open in about a week's time, and almost right away are able to follow their mother as she leaves the burrow to forage. Unlike the speckled peachpitter, which shows little concern to its young, the common plains jerma is a more dedicated parent, leading its young toward food and shelter and away from danger in the more precarious ground level of the open plains as opposed to the safer treetops.

The descendants of the common plains jerma would, over time, diverge as the geographical isolation of its extremely widespread population becomes fragmented by the continents' separation. One lineage, specializing as walkers and burrowers, would become the long-tailed, facultatively-quadrupedal furbils, which continue to exist worldwide as small, "typical" rodents filling niches similar to voles, mice and rats. The other main lineage, becoming even more specialized hoppers, would develop longer, stronger hind limbs and even more flexible tails with increased numbers of vertebrae, giving rise to the jerryboas, from which the many bipedal clades, such as the oingos, walkabies, rhinocheirids, boingos, drundles, podotheres and pterodents would eventually descend from.

While the common plains jerma and its kin dominate the plains and grasslands, another herbivore is rising in prominence in the bushy scrublands, forest floors, and other areas of low-to-mid-height vegetation. Larger than most other hamsters, about the size of a large guinea pig and even taller due to long, slender legs, the scrubland goutie (Protoacaudamus altipus) is one of the biggest animals of its time, a trend that will only continue with some of its descendants.

Still possessing a vestigal nub of tail that will be entirely lost in future species, this descendant of Cricetulus griseus acauda has adapted to be a herbivorous grazer, turning its attention on grasses, leaves and stems, rather than the seeds, fruit and insects that other hamsters specialize on. Traveling in small groups, they forage on the tender stems of the earliest grasses, sometimes overgrazing small patches of grass when their numbers grow too plentiful. This degree of damage would over time pressure the grasses themselves to retaliate with defensive measures: some producing toxic, foul-tasting compounds to deter them, while others developing thorns or hard woody stems to make them more difficult to eat. This increased scarcity of easily-edible and palatable food, as well as the rising numbers of early predatory hamsters, would gradually keep the destructive effects of the scrubland gouties' grazing under check, with its presence heralding dynamic changes in the food web, both in the evolution of the plants it eats, as well as the first predatory hamsters that eat it, in turn.

Scrubland gouties are fast runners and live nomadic lives, traveling long distances in search of food. They do not dig burrows, merely seeking shelter in natural structures such as rocky outcrops or the shade of trees, and are constantly on the move. To compensate for this, they instead give birth to very precocial and well-developed young, in smaller litters averaging three or four at a time. Born fully furred, open-eyed and much more well-developed, they are able to walk within minutes of being born and are able to follow their mothers around in just a day or two. They remain in the care of their mother, safe from the small, predatory hamsters thanks to her large size and sharp teeth, for up to six months until they are weaned. Once weaned, however, the mother typically chases away the now subadult young, as, by this point, she is usually now preparing for and expecting her next litter.

With a stocky body and long limbs, the scrubland goutie is one of the largest hamsters of the time, and, as the eons go on, this trend carries on to its descendants, to whom large size affords them protection from the early predatory hamsters that, in this day and age, grew no larger than a rat. In time, as its descendants grow bigger still, two clades out of them become prominent and eventually dominate in the successive eras. One clade are the slender, fleet-footed hamtelopes, which, while playing second-fiddle to the boingos in the Therocene, eventually come to colonize Borealia by rafting or migrating at intermittent periods of lower sea levels, eventually producing the hoofed ungulopes: the dominant herbivores as of the Temperocene. The other clade, specializing on larger sizes and bulkier bodies, are the cavybaras, among which arose species such as the mison, the bumbaas, the hammoths and the piggalo, some of which becoming the biggest land animals the planet had ever seen.

Hamsters, however, are not the only animals introduced to the planet. With the need for detritus-scavengers, soil-burrowers and plant pollinators to create a functional ecosystem, a diverse array of insects were also introduced to the planet: beetles such as the darkling beetle, known for its mealworm larvae, as well as moths, ants, wasps and bees to act as vital agents to enable plants to reproduce. These are among a vast array of invertebrate life that also included free-living soil nematodes, earthworms, terrestrial isopods and springtails, as well as marine gastropods, some of which became terresteial independently of true earth land snails.

But such a diversity of invertebrate life would not go unnoticed for long. A descendant of Cricetulus griseus vulgaris, the forest shrewbil (Eomyotalpa polyvora) would quickly take advantage of this buffet of invertebrates, becoming a specialized insectivore that hunted insects, burrowed to search for worms underground and proliferated in the niche of small insect-eater rummaging through the leaf litter in the forest floor, searching for bugs to eat. Breeding all year round, mother shrewbils developed expansive cheek pouches to hoard large quantities of food for her fast-growing pups. Able to bear as many as four litters a year, and able to reproduce at six months old and keep breeding for the rest of their five-year lifespan, their numbers would come to swell rapidly in the Rodentocene: spelling trouble for invertebrates that lacked any means to deter these new enemies.

The emergence of this species would end up playing a significant role in what was basically the planet's first mass extinction: while occasionally eaten by hamsters beforehand, the local terrestrial invertebrates would never have been hunted at such a large scale as this before. Countless numbers of the initial invertebrate species would be eaten into oblivion by the ravenous shrewbils, leaving only those that had defenses, were able to quickly escape, or reproduced in even greater numbers to increase the chances that some would survive. Flying insects would remain mostly safe for now, but ground-dwellers, including large, slow-moving beetles and their fleshy, vulnerable larvae, and the first wave of terrestrial gastropods, would be completely decimated. One unlucky victim in these early days would be the twigbeetles: long-bodied, slender beetles that mimicked the appearance of twigs in the leaf litter of the forest floor, unable to fly or run fast but was gifted in stealth, staying entirely motionless to hide from attackers. An effective visual disguise against other predators, it unfortunately proved no match against the forest shrewbils' keen sense of smell, and would ultimately die out early into the Rodentocene.

With its insectivorous diet and burrowing habits, the forest shrewbil would be the precursor of the molemice: small-eyed, keen-nosed digging burrowers that spent much of their time underground. While rather typical creatures at first, in fact, the shrewbil may indeed actually have gone the most bizarre evolutionary path of all the initial species of the Early Rodentocene, even in comparison to the other clades' surprising descendants. The rattiles, ectothermic armored creatures converged upon a saurian form that became extremely successful in the Temperocene, the shieldears, with armored pinnae forming false jaws enclosing the head, and the cave dwelling daggoths, with their plethora of appendages and lack of any mammalian resemblance into borderline alien forms, each one among the strangest and most derived of hamster lineages, all owe their existence to the humble and mundane-looking forest shrewbil.

Shrewbils may have not been the first hamsters to develop a taste for fellow animals, but they were the most prominent. That was, until the emergence of the first proper carnivores, among them the golden huntster (Venatocricetus ferox). While cannibalistic tendencies had always been present since the original seeded hamster species, and interspecies predation had occured sporadically among earlier species, none had specialized to such a degree as with the golden huntster, with hooked claws on its forepaws for restraining struggling prey, pointed incisors for piercing bone and flesh, forward-facing eyes for better binocular vision, and a shorter digestive tract better suited for processing animal meat than plant matter. While no larger than a rat, the golden huntster was, in its time, the undisputed apex predator of HP-02017.

Like all other apex predators, the golden huntster ended up completely changing the dynamics of the world and its creatures upon its first appearance. Suddenly, this predator-free safe haven of plenty, a hamster's paradise, had once again become a battleground for survival, from one of their own coming to recognize its fellow hamsters as an abundant food source left unexploited by an empty niche. While the tree-dwelling peachpitters would remain complacent, down upon ground level other species would be pressured into defensive adaptations. The jermas would evolve into faster and more agile leapers, the gouties would grow ever larger to become more difficult to hunt, and the small burrowing shrewbils becoming even better tunnellers to hide from their newfound enemy. While the first wave of evolutionary radiation in the Early Rodentocene would simply be them diversifying to exploit empty niches and take advantage of new food sources, the coming of the golden huntster would kickstart another burst of adaptive radiation, as different species found new ways to survive its predation and defend themselves, flee, or hide in inaccessible places.

Golden huntsters, like all predators, are much more few and far between than their prey, but, like typical rodents, retain their extremely fast reproductive rate, especially now with a far more nutritious food source. During periods of population spikes, their numbers can be devastating to local populations of prey species, but fortunately, their numbers are kept in check by a most unlikely failsafe: themselves. Aggressive, solitary, and opportunistically cannibalistic, golden huntsters are not above eating one another when prey species becomes scarce or when huntster populations become too dense. While litters are born every few months, of up to eight babies each, few of those actually reach adulthood, with many falling prey to rivals raiding burrows seeking to eliminate competition, to their stronger, hungrier siblings while they share a nest, or even the mother herself, if she lacks the resources to care for many pups or is stressed enough to turn on her young. In a way, their own savagery to their own kind is a blessing in disguise, as it generally keeps them from getting too numerous enough to become an ecological menace.

The golden huntster would eventually give rise to the clade known as the hammibals: becoming the primary predator clade of the Early Rodentocene. But as of the Middle Rodentocene, they would find themselves gradually being edged out by two new clades of unrelated carnivores: both descendants of Cricetus griseus hirsutolongicauda. One clade would become the ferrats, mustelid-like predators able to tackle prey larger than themselves, which proved useful in hunting the ever-bigger descendants of the gouties, while another, the rat-like scabbers, became ambush hunters that lured in small, insectivorous prey. Pushed to the margins and relegated to becoming mere mesopredators hunting small prey, this dethroned pioneer lineage would only find success in the continent of Ecatoria. Here though, in the absence of competition, they would produce the large predatory hamyenas, which in turn would eventually give rise to the intelligent, adaptable and sociable zingos, a canid-like group that enjoys great success and wide diversity as of the Temperocene.

While other clades have begun to take shape as they occupy vacant ecological niches, some have instead taken refuge in the familiar. The banded dawndusk (Eocricetus linea), descended from Cricetulus griseus vulgaris, has remained basically unchanged in the last 5 million years, even as other lineages became hoppers and climbers and hunters and grazers. A small, crepuscular seed-eater with no notable anatomical changes, it is, basically, just a forest hamster. While adapted to living in burrows in the forest floor as opposed to their ancestor's desert habitat, its lifestyle is practically identical, emerging at dawn and dusk to hoard seeds in its cheek pouches that it then carries back to its burrow to stash away for later. Like its ancestor, it is also a frequent, opportunistic breeder, bearing litters of up to a dozen blind, hairless young that are dependent on their mother for the first few weeks.

The banded dawndusk, thus, is an illustration of the nonlinearity of evolution: while some branches of a taxonomic branch become more derived, in some cases extremely and unrecognizably so, others remain virtually unchanged. Evolution is not a race to be better or stronger, but merely a contest of surviving to reproduce, being simply sufficient to pass on its genes. And if the initial form is capable of persisting in its niche, then it continues to exist: alongside other divergent relatives far different from both it and the ancestral form they trace back heritage from.

Banded dawndusks are part of the group that would become the duskmice: a clade of abundant but mundane short-tailed hamsters that fill typical rodent niches along with the furbils. These change little over the course of the Therocene, Glaciocene and Temperocene, persisting in abundance as small and basal hamsters. And while, perhaps ironically, one related lineage, the aquatic pondrats, would emerge from the duskmice and dominate watery environments in beaver-like, seal-like and eventually whale-like forms in the cricetaceans, the direct descendants of the banded dawndusk would be the far more mundane hampters: a clade so remarkable in being so unchanged that it may in a loose sense be seen as a sort of living fossil.

Yet a future as an unchanged relic now prey to other lineages' more derived descendants is ultimately still a more fortunate outcome than no future at all. And yet, that is ultimately the tragic fate of the black-pawed dendend (Melanopodocricetus ultimus).

Very early on, at about one million years post establishment, as many as twenty separate subspecies would arise from the basal Cricetulus griseus subspecies. But of these, four of them would come to dominate: C. griseus vulgaris, C. griseus pentadactylus, C. griseus acauda and C. griseus hirsutolongicauda.

Other lineages would continue to persist in the margins, but as the "big four" began to diversify, one by one the other species' lineages would be outcompeted by the new species emerging from the four and occupying different niches. As of the Early Rodentocene at 5 million years post-establishment, only four other lineages survive: the descendants of C. griseus musculus, mouse-like forms eventually outcompeted by the furbils, the descendants of C. griseus macrotia, big-eared desert species that eventually lose out to the jerryboas, the descendants of C. griseus giganteus, large-bodied omnivores ultimately crowded out by the cavybaras and hamtelopes, and the descendants of C. griseus mirabilis, to which the black-pawed dendend belongs.

The black-pawed dendend would be the last one standing, persisting in the massive influx of new species from the four main clades. An adaptable omnivore, it persisted as a generalist despite the competition, by being able to consume a wide variety of food, switching from one to another even if it had no sole monopoly on each. Yet the final straw that would end up spelling its doom would be its eventual specialization on leafy grasses that would coincide with the emergence of defensive grass species fending off the gouties, as well as the rise of the huntsters. A combined double blow of a relatively sudden lack of palatable grass and the coming of a new predator that reproduced quickly would prove too much for them to overcome, and the black-pawed dendend would finally disappear shortly before the beginning of the Middle Rodentocene 10 million years post-establishment. There were winners and losers in the game of life, and in the competitive environment of the Early Rodentocene in the midst of rapid evolutionary radiations, the black-pawed dendend would, sadly, not come out victorious.

It would leave no living descendants, and be relegated as merely another footnote and experiment in the cladogram's family tree, while the descendants of the main four subspecies move on to greater things in the eras yet to come.

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