#i hope he turns into dust

[sidhion]

i want him to burn in the sun. but I'll endure it for my wife

[yujeong]

KPTS characters + The Art of War quotes

[m4gp13]

No but why did rick make Ethan, whose mother's sacred animal is a goose, fall to his death???

(when I'd been reading pjo it was when I was also listening to TMA and I remember getting to episode 21 'Freefall' and just thinking the Vast was such an Ethan Fear. Because he was so high up. He probably wouldn't have been able to see the ground, certainly not clearly. Just sky above him, sky below him, and sky all around him. Did he 'enjoy sky blue'? Did he get lost in it? Did he die in it? Or did that come later, only when he hit the ground?)

[ancha-aus]

NewAgeAU Drabble - Nine does not equal Ten

Hi @spotaus ! I am not even sorry at this point!! I had an idea and I think by the title you can guess what it is about this time :3

We are in post story again! (i am keeping my strike going lmao) but this time? very different character. Nine :3 (also. Xundyne's name for now is Ranha, from piranha... because she is a fish monster and well... I wanted a fish themed name for her lmao)

Also warning. Nine think very degrading and judgemental. in case that bothers you.

He is also a very unreliable narrator lmao.

*----------------*

Nine makes sure to frown as he crosses his arms while his king, and co-king honestly, disappear into the meeting room with the brat that calls himself a king.

Nine only acts annoyed of course. He knew he wouldn't be allowed into the meeting room and he had been planning on it. It is hard to search this place if he is suposed to be in one room.

Ranha stands by his side, huffing and puffing as she mutters stuff under her breath. She is honestly annoyed with not being allowed inside the meeting room. Nine is sure she will be fine with it after he shares his plan.

Nine watches the brat acting as king lead his own king and his right hand inside. They would both be named king after the coup but the resistance hadn't wanted to push the people of Ritten too far. Nine watches as the crown prince, prince Dream, follows the child and Nine still doens't understand why Dream hasn't taken the crown yet. It can't be that hard to take the power from the younger skeleton. How Nightmare is still seen as king is a mystery to Nine.

Sure it seems like things are okay after three years but Nine knows not to bindly believe people. He had hoped that Ten would have finally learned that lesson by now but it seems that wasn't the case. But that is okay. Nine will be the great brother he was meant to be and get through to Ten and get him home. Easy.

The meeting room door closes and Nine nudges his best friend "Hush." and he nods towards the side. Ranha tilts her head and her red hair shifts slightly. She glances at the door before following him down the hallway.

"What is the big deal Nine?" She seems puzzles.

Nine looks back over his shoulder but nothing happens. Hah. See? And this is why Nightmare still being seen as king is a mystery to him. Those Knights are nothing but hot air as he doesn't even see any of them following him, no wonder Ten got accepted into the role so quickly, the knights clearly can't spot a single threat even when it is right in front of them. All he sees behind them is a prestine looking cat watching them.

"I knew they weren't going to let us join the meeting."

Ranha looks annoyed "Then why did you ask me to join you? I could be exploring the town and checking the stalls and stuff! See what people really think about their weird king and the weirdos here." the shark monster huffs.

Nine rolls his eyes "Because I am in the castle now. Which means I can finally find Ten and talk some sense into him."

Ranha stares shocked before she smiles broadly "Nine you are a genius! Lets go!"

Nine grins as he waves Ranha to follow him.

It isn't the first time he is in this castle. It is the fourth now. Each time Nine would just watch and wait only to not see Ten. This time he is going to search himself. Nine is lucky that Nightmare is a brat and clearly inexperienced with getting allies as it is taking his king and the brat king ages to get a treaty finalised. Honestly how Orchard managed to get Sanctuary as ally is still a mystery but Nine doesn't have time to figure out how this fake king is managing.

If Nine knows one thing is that kings like that will always fall by the brave people who are willing to stand against them.

But that isn't Nine's job. He already made the wrong choice like this before. When he picked the coup over his brother. When he didn't bother to help his brother adjust to all the heavy changes.

Nine had needed time. Time to even believe there were other options. To see that these options weren't wrong and could work for him. His friends had helped him see this. Yet Nine hadn't permitted Ten these insights and moments.

This time though! This time he will make this work! Even if Nine knows that Ten will never be able to fully adjust and become like them. He has gone through too much conditioning to ever be his own person again. But Nine can lead him in the right direction at least.

Ranha knows the way and it seems that she has the same plan as Nine had. Which is going straight towards the private wing.

None of them had allowed access to a whole wing of the castle. Apparently that was the royal's private wing. Which who needs a whole wing to themselves?!

Selfish pricks. All of them.

They turn the corner and get out into the hall. Nine ignores the many many tapestries. Ranha is right behind him as they make their way all the way through the next hall with large windows. They finally reach the right hallway and slow their running. They walk side by side with confidence as the near the entrance. There are two guards there but that doesn't matter. Nine is a visiting guard from a country their stupid king wants a treaty with. It will be easy to gain access.

Nine is a step away from entering the royal wing. He can't help but look at the arch leading into the next wing. The arch is large and high and seems to almost be like tree roots or branches. With small leaves and everything. It looks so livelike and Nine wonders who carved it, it straight up looks like living tree branches. Many other decorations and details just like this one are all across and around this castle.

He can't wonder much longer as the two guards cross their spears in front of Ranha and him.

Ranha glares "What are you doing? Let us through!"

A cat like monster, orange of colour, sounds very unamused "No one is allowed access into the king's wing." She looks unbothered.

The dog monster next to her grins "What Harper said. Shoo little kiddos." the grin makes the slight greying around his snout stand out. He has short trimmed fur and most obviously, the cut tail.

Nine huffs as he stands taller, easily towering over the black and white dog "I was allowed access."

The dog hums and taps his chin before shaking his head "Nope! Doesn't work like that!"

Harper nods "Indeed. Only the royal family and those allowed acces by either them of the Head of House are allowed entrance."

Nine wants to roll his eyes at the stupid head of house title. Everyone should know that is just some stupid coverup. Nine has his theories but for now he sees his in. He gives a charming smile as he nods "I know of course. But he told me himself he needed me to grab something for him." he grins as he wiggles his eye brows. Hinting at a secret meaning.

The dog and cat share a look before Harper looks unimpressed "We do not allow entrance to anyone unless he told us himself he allows entrance."

Ranha luckily sees what Nine is trying and joins in "We seriously got the go ahead! It is an emergancy that we are allowed in."

The dog shakes his head again "No can't do! The last time I didn't follow the orders they cut off my tail! And I only have one of those and I don't want to imagine what will go next."

Nine feels sick to deep in his soul. They... They did what?!

Harper glances at her partner unamused "Shut it Shep."

Shep grins at her "What do you think Harp! What will be next?"

Harper looks umimpressed "If I am lucky it will be your tongue."

Nine feels sick. What is wrong with these people? Why are they still here? What kind of hell and torture kingdom did his stupid younger brother get himself stuck in? Well not for long! Nine will make sure to tell the others everything.

But only after he managed to get Ten home. To get Ten away from this place before they realised that Nine was going to bring this whole kingdom down. He won't make the same mistake of ignoring his brother just because it would be harder for him. No. He will first free his brother and then they will bring this hellhole down and people will be celebrating them.

Harper looks unamused at them "You are not welcome here. Please remove yourself from this area or we will be forced to remove you ourselves." She sounds bored as she says this.

Nine is very sure he can take them but Ranha huffs and walks away. Nine looks back betrayed before following her.

They walk through the halls until they end up in the tapastry hall again. Nine glares at Ranha "Why would you-"

Ranha stops as she shakes her head "You don't understand. You know how I sometimes have these feelings? Of incoming attacks?" Nine nods. It was one of Ranha's many talents and how Ranha was undefeated.

Ranha continues to speak "When you got ready to get us inside. I felt it. This large... presence. Suddenly and ready." she shakes her head "Danger. I felt it was better to retreat and make a better plan."

Nine frowns but sighs "Fair enough. The chance that Ten would be there is rather small..." He may be one of his knights but Nine doubts they truly get anything aside from a title and more dangerous jobs. Well and the masks, those are rather cool. Nine would like a mask. He thinks he would look amazing and very cool in one.

Ranha nods as she mutters "Where could he be... or who would know?" She rubs her chin "The knights probably. But i doubt they will want to help us. I have no doubt that whatever the king used to keep Ten listening to him also works on the other knights. Do you think it is somekind of mind control? or like blackmail? mind control would be okay to break but blackmail is much more sensitive, especially as it implies he got it somehow. We could also wait until the treaty is signed and go by Sanctuary and see if we can get more support through them. Make an allyship with them and then overthrow this whole country."

Nine should be listening. But all he can do is stare at the tapastries.

They happened to end before a set that Nine had been ignoring. Almost like the world itself is trying to force Nine to see and consider them. The first in the set that calls his attention is one showing two small skeletons. One in yellow and one in purple. A sun shown above the one in yellow and a moon shown above the one in purple.

It isn't hard to connect the purple skeleton with the brat king. But Nine doens't understand. Because the yellow one is clearly the crown prince. But they look the same age here. Same height and everything. It had already been confusing that the younger brother had gotten the crown before the older one but this made it seem as if they are much closer in age than the real them shows. It confuses him. It could be something to play up the dramatics but when they had their tour it was implied that these tapastries are a way to document the past.

Though the actual historic events could have gone down differently and this is just another piece of propaganda.

The next one shows a picture of a dark and seemingly partly liquid monster. A skeleton still but large and dark and with tentacles on his back. He stands tall with an arm pointed outwards, the young yellow skeleton is being send away. As the tall one remains with a crown on his dark skull.

Nine looks at the third that caught his attention. This one shows the dark skeleton standing behind the young king. The dark goop skeleton however doens't look menacing. Instead the sockets are closed as the large imposing figure stands with open hands towards the young skeleton in purple. The young skeleton has his sockets open and seems to stare outwards. The tentacles all hang around him as well, not ready to strike but in a way that seemed to surrender. a crown held within the young skeleton's hands.

Nine ponders. He wonders if the gooped skeleton had been Nightmare's parent. He knows that Nim was suposed to be the king before Nightmare and that the gooped skeleton took over. Something about taking the crown from the rightful heir. Nine knows that the gooped skeleton had been named Nightmare as well and Nine is very sure that this one just named the now ruling Nightmae after himself, like a Nightmare the second. This also ties in with the whole head of house theory he has. Nine knows that the head of house is a useless title often given to a favourite servant. Somekind of excuse to keep someone close without needing to put actual time and effort into them standing out as consort or advisor. And the tiny skeleton had to have come from somewhere.

Of course his theory still has holes in it. Mostly what the deal with Dream is and where he fit in. But Nine hopes to eventually figure it out. He already figured out a lot of the situation after all.

He looks at the last one and huffs. It shows the young skeleton in purple holding hands wiht an older looking skeleton in yellow. The moon and sun having been united into one symbol. On the moon side were figures which resembled the different knights. Nine can't help but stare at the one with the snow leopard mask. His brother... stuck in some legacy and played like a pawn... If Nine had tried harder to make Ten feel included would Ten have been okay? Not perfect but maybe a bit better?

On the skeleton in yellow's side was some warrior in blue with a large hammer and a skeleton with many colours and brown clothes with a tail.

Nine stares at the title 'Reunited.' Seems like all these pictures have names. Nine doesn't understand but figures it is some sort of propaganda. Something to mellow out people and make it seem like it is okay.

"Nine?"

Ranha looks worried before she looks at where Nine is staring and her smile turns gentle "Hey... I know you want to help him. And even if we can never truly make him fully whole. We can at least give him a safe place."

Nine sighs and nods "It is something." The damage that his father and old king did was too large. There is no way his simple and naive brother will be able to fully get over it. To be able to move past it. But Nine will do his duty as brother and keep Ten somewhere safe. Some simple jobs will be good. Some normal routine.

Ranha looks around and sees some maids walk by and Nine follows her as she rushes over. She smiles brightly at them before making some small talk. The maids seem happy and content. Easily talking back and giggling once or twice. Though Nine can't help but feel like this is not the way girls normlaly giggle when Ranha flirts with them. This seems more... amused? It is hard to explain. He notices a black cat on the window sill. Lounging as it stares at them with large yellow eyes.

Ranha is casual as can be once she asks the question "I was wondering if we could see a knight! You know. Maybe the one with the white panther mask?"

The maids share a look before one snorts "You mean Cross?" Nine just barely manages to keep his annoyance is. His brother's name is not fucking cross. It is Ten! That is his name and Ten will always be Ten! The maid hums and looks at her friend "Is it training time?"

The other shakes her head "I don't think so. I believe I saw sir Cross with sir Dust."

The first one laughs and nods "Oh that is easy then." she smiles brightly at them "They will be at the ranch. That is where Sir Dust always is."

Nine blinks confused. The ranch? Why? Ranha however asks where they can find it and the maids tell them how to get there. They do warn them to not bother this Dust knight when he is working with the horses before walking off together. Giggling and whispering stuff. They shoot them a look before rushing off giggling again.

Ranha grins and flexes her arms "Still got it." Nine isn't sure she does but he won't challange her on it. They follow the hallways and Nine can't help but stare at the walls around them.

The walls look strange. They have ridges and dips and when Nine feels them they feel like they are made of wood yet he knows for a fact that they are suposed to be rocks and bricks.

Nine once again wonders which masterful crafter and builder made this castle. It almost seems alive. It is warm and beautiful. Everywhere there is signatures of nature or references to it.

The castle he is used to. That of his father. It was all sharp lines and precision. Nothing was allowed to be out of place. No dust or dirt anywhere. Everything had to be perfect.

This castle was wilder. That is the best way Nine can explain it. It is wild and uncontained. It branches outwards. Stuff is uneven and different. The pillars aren't exactly the same even as they are all that same carved stone to look like roots. It feels alive. It feels living. It seems the breath. It feels like there is something larger at play.

Yet it doesnt feel welcome, he doens't feel welcome. Nine can't explain it exactly.

They get outside and follow the path. It takes them a while as they walk past some trees and through a small forest and then they see it.

It is a large ranch. Build with this deep greenish wood of all colours. WIth multiple large pens nearby. It is open and large. But the trees give it privacy. It is beautiful.

Nine feels Ranha tug on his armour and follows where she is pointing. In a pen he can see his brother! Ten is there but... he is seated on a beige horse. Large and strong looking. Antoher skeleton is nearby and seems to be messing with the reins of the horse.

Nine begins to walk closer but he starts to slow his steps. Because... Ten isn't wearing armour. Nine can't rememebr the last time Ten hadn't been wearing armour. Back at home he always had to be ready. Ten.... Ten didn't have time to relax in a casual outfit. Or do things for himself. And yet... here he is... under another tyrant yet... he is wearing casual clothes? He is sitting on a horse? is this somekind of trick of that king? Let Ten relax to make him more loyal? Maybe the brat is smarter than Nine thought.

Ranha shoots him a confused look before going to step closer to the pen but Nine stops her. He can't explain. it is just... Ten looks... He looks different. Not just his clothes but... something else. Nine can't quite explain what it is or put his finger on it. He needs more information. He needs to be prepared to break through any trick or lie. He nods towards the side where a large fench is located and some barrels. Ranha nods and sneaks there with Nine right by her side. They hide behind the barrels and Nine focusses his magic. He quickly enhances his sight and hearing and focusses in. Strangely enough he also feels like there is rian in the air but a glance up shows a cloudless sky. But any thought about the weird feeling in the air is forgotten as soon as Ten speaks.

"Are you sure about this Dust? I still don't think I am ready. What if he throws me off?!"

The other skeleton, Dust is just wearing a large sweater. It looks to be made of high quality. He also seems to be wearing just a beanie to cover his skull. A large red scarf wrapped around his neck. The scarf looks a different quality than everything else.

The other tilts his skull at Ten. Seemingly considering his answer "If you fall off. We can try again."

Ten glares "Dust this isn't funny."

Dust seems to disagree as he grins slightly, just a slight upturn of the teeth "It is fine Cross. Just a matter of trying again. And you and Limestone need to practise this."

Nine feels himself get angry as they use the fake name for his brother but he needs to remain calm. He needs to watch and learn.

Ten grumbles unhappily as he glares down at the horse "I just... I don't get why you can't just train him... You trained Basalt... and Granite for that matter!"

Dust tilts his skull "I did. But he needs to get used to you while running. Get used to how you move and your weight." he pets the horse, the horse leans into Dust's touch "There needs to be trust Cross. You need to trust Limestone that he won't throw you off. And Limestone needs to be able to trust you that you will lead him into the right direction."

Ten blinks and seems to stare at Dust for a moment before looking down at the horse. The animal just stares at him. "I... euh... oh..."

Dust tilts his skull the other way "Do you want to try galloping first?"

Ten looks up and Nine finally figured out what is different. Why Ten looks different. Ten is... smiling. He is smiling brightly and nods excited at the idea.

Nine... Nine can't remember the last time he saw Ten happy and smiling... It is a face he never saw on his brother.

Ranha mutters softly "Wow... I never... He looks so differnet now... so much... more like... A person? i guess? It is weird. I am used to him just. Standing straight and like saluting and being still and unmoving? Like some statue and not like a person?"

Nine nods because he notices it now. The way the Ten is messing with the reins. The way his leg seems to tap the stirrup. The way he seems to almost... wiggle in place a little.

Dust chuckles and nods as he pets the horse a few more times "Go for it. Limestone wants to move." and he takes a few steps back.

Ten gets a large smile on his face as he kicks his heels lightly back, Nine is very surprised when the horse starts moving. He thought you had to be rougher and kick harder to get horses to move. That was hardly a tick.

Yet it works. As Ten starts to ride the horse and the horse speeds up quickly. Very quickly. Ranha suddenly gasps "Holy shit. That horse still has like the three toe system."

Nine blinks in shock. He knows that the wild horses form Orchard were rumoured to be faster and much more diverse than the horses in other places. The wild horses continued to adapt and where made to travel long distances for faster speeds unlike the normal horse endurance. The toes give extra stability and would make the horses able to travel all kinds of terrain while still being fast.

Nine stares in awe as the horse speeds up and than continues to go full speed ahead. Ten tugs lightly on the reins and the horse reacts instantly. Making sharp turns and Nine notices that the back looks longer and sligthly bigger than the horses Nine is used to.

These. These truly are a different breed.

Maybe Nine can convince his king and friend to keep this allyship going for a bit longer. Or maybe get a few horses out of the deal. Nine has no doubt these horses could be much better with good riders.

Ten is.... surprisingly okay with riding the horse. Makes okay turns but well. It is just Ten so NIne is sure he is doing stuff wrong that they can work on back in Ritten, once they find his shortcomings.

Ten eventually returns to Dust and Ten smiles brightly and Nine can't help but stare. He looks happy. He is happy. That is what is different about him. He is relaxed and happy and he doesn't stand as a statue anymore.

Ten laughs as he grins at Dust "Limestone is even faster than before!"

Dust nods but has a tiny smile on his face. Looking very content and proud "Limestone is a strong horse. He is fast and loves to exercise and run. It is honestly a bigger problem to make sure he rests than anything." he crosses his arms and raises a brow at Ten "Remind you of someone."

Ten blushes and looks to the side as he rubs his neck "I have been getting better with the whole work life balance."

Dust nods and agress easily. He pets the horse and looks at Ten "Want to try going faster?"

Faster?! How do you go faster than that!?

Ten looks deeply unhappy and unsure "I don't know..." he pets the horse.

Dust seems to stare at him before speaking "Would it be better if I lead the path with Pearl?"

Ten looks up and a look of pure relieve on his face. Had... had Ten always been this expressive?

Ten nods "Please."

Dust nods and looks to the side. He clicks his tongue and teeth and one of the horses looks up. A smaller but beautiful grey horse with striking purple eyes. The horse starts running and jumps over the fench before trotting over to the two skeletons and horse.

Ten laughs and grins at Dust "Pearl is showing off again."

Dust sighs and nods "I can't manage to unlearn her to jump fenches." the horse stops before him and pushes her whole head into his chest and arms. Dust pets the head and neck "You ready to lead Cross and Limestone?" The horse pulls back and tussles her head around before waiting patiently.

Dust puts his hand into his hip bag and pulls out this curious stone and metal item. He taps the side and bright gemstones light up and runes start to shine.

Ten looks alarmed "What is that!?"

Dust glances at him and a small smile appears "It is a prototype. Geno gave it to me to test it as I ride horses. It is suposed to be something to make it easy and quick to saddle up horses."

Ten looks deeply unhappy as he glares at the item as if it personally offended him "That stupid smug bastard. He is just trying to buy you over with stupid gifts."

Dust looks deeply amused "It is a prototype."

Ten throws up his arms "You are the only person who would find a good use for this!"

Dust chuckels as he lets the item get near the horse and it shines before it starts unfolding and a few clicks later and the horse is equipped with the normal rider things. Dust gets on top of the horse with a grace and confidence that leaves Nine open mouthed. He never... Even the people at home...

Dust looks at Ten "Ready?"

Ten grins as he nods "Yes. Lock the reins and just hold on right?" as he says it he messes with the headpiece on the horse and Nine wants to roll his eyes.

Dust nods and speaks "Indeed. Just make sure it is ready as if you are going to make a get away." and he waits.

Shit he really is patient... Is that why he is teaching Ten?

Ten nods and sits up straight "Ready!"

Dust chuckles as he turns his horse. He checks back over his shoulder to Ten "Go for it. Get him to follow Pearl." Dust doesn't even tug on the reins and Nine can't even spot an obvious movement to direct the horse to start moving. How did he do that?

Ten takes a deep breath before he leans closer to the horse and grabs hold on some extra handbars on the headpiece of the horse. The horse immediantly looks around as Ten nudges the horse to look at Dust and the leaving horse.

The horse stares before it starts to trod after the other skeleton and horse. Ten meanwhile stays as he is. Relaxing against the horse as his horse just follows Dust and his own horse.

It is fascinating. Especially when Dust starts to speed up with some unseeable comment and Ten's horse follows right along. There is no doubt. There is full commitment of both horses.

While Nine had no doubt that Ten still has much to improve with horse riding. Dust seems to be a master. He directs the horse with minimal movement and the horse seems to react immediantly to any unheard and unseen comment.

Soon both horses are running through the pen but it still isn't the gallop speed of before. Dust speaks up casually "We are going to practise you trusting Limestone. Just get into the position to blind ride. We are going to have Limestone follow Pearl's lead."

Ten nods "Okay. Okay. I can... I can do that." He lays fully against the horse and pulls his feet out of the saddle footholds. He messes with the saddle and the footholds get a lot higher and further towards the back. Cross does some weird combination of laying and crouching on the horse as he tugs his feet back into the holsters.

Dust looks back over his shoulder. Not at all seeming concerned about having to look where he is going as he blindly tugs at the right moment to make his horse make a turn "Not quite there but this is fine to practise with for now." he pets the horse's neck before leaning closer to the horse and the horse shoots of.

It goes faster than any horse Nine has ever seen before. It is fast and nimble as Dust truly rides the horse. The other horse with Ten blindly following-

Blind Riding. They don't mean it with looking. They mean it as they don't control the horses beyond the minimum. They are minimising the pressure and bother they could give the horses which enables those to run faster than before.

And if this is just the start... How fast can they go?

Ranha watches with her own mouth open before she mutters "This... this must be why he is a Knight. Not fighting or anything like that. He has a way with the horses."

Nine agrees and thinks she is right. The guy on the horse is fragile and delicate looking. Nine has no doubt that he towers over the other. Soft spoken too... But if he is this good with the horses. If he is able to train the wild horses and make them do this kind of stuff? no wonder they immediantly snatched him up and gave him the higest position they could. Make him stay.

The two horses are almost flying around the running pen. Then Dust leads his horse towards the middle where a small pond is located. Then Dust nudges the horse and it just jumps over the pond! It lands easily and keeps running. The horse with Ten doesn't pause a single step and copies the first horse. It lands safely and without a single issue.

Dust holds up an arm and fist and the horse with Ten starts to slow down and continues walking another round before stopping. Dust lets his horse walk by before just jumping off before nudging his horse. It huffs before continuing its trot across the ring.

Ten pants as he grins widely at Dsut "That was awesome!"

Dust chuckles "It is rather fun to just let the horses do their thing isn't it? and you made the jump first try. Killer fell at least twice."

Ten blinks as he looks up shocked "Twice?"

Dust nods "At least. I am pretty sure he snuck off to practise with Granite while I had my private training." he is by Ten's side as he checks the horse "How are you feeling? You were rather tense."

Ten laughs as he rubs his neck "I am fine... thanks for checking... It is just. I think I am done for today. Thanks again for... being here i guess."

Dust pauses his movements as he starts to undo the horse harnass "It is no problem. I am always here." and he clips it fully off.

Nine has made the decision that he likes this knight. The one he met first, the one wiht goop? The one that claimed Ten as his brother? Nine doens't like him. Weirdo with always having tear trails on his face. Not to forget how cocky and confident he acts. Must be some kind of trick and lie that he keeps up to fool and intimidate others. But Nine isn't fooled. He can see through that easily.

He also doesn't like the bigger guy. Dude moves too quietly for someone his size and that hole in his skull? You don't just get that on accident. Something sinister is in that one's past no doubt.

This one? Just a guy trying to train horses and help Ten with his horse and training? Nine can appreciate that. And sure! The fact he looks cute and pretty helps a lot too. Nine would in theory be fine with this guy joining them in Ritten as well. It would be nice for Ten to have someone who is already his friend. Help him feel at home even more. And then Nine can work on impressing the other by showing his skills! It would be quick and easy!

Ten is by Dust's side as they mess with the saddle and headpiece. They talk about settings and prefered length. Nine is honestly not sure what any of it means so Ten probably doesn't either.

Ten looks at Dust and looks down a bit embarrassed "I... I know I am asking a lot... But i don't really feel like going inside already... Mind showing some tricks? again?" and he looks hopeful.

Dust looks at him and nods "I don't mind."

Fuck he is so patient with Ten... Maybe this guy was a good influence on Ten. Helped him with his lessons and training. someone had to be as Nine doubts the king or those other two knights were.

Ten looks downright excited as he waits by the fench as Dust leads the horse towards the other pen where the beige horse joins the other horses. Nine can count at least ten in there, a whole herd of horses all slightly different shaped and colours. All looking healthy and strong and interacting.

Dust returns and gets on top of his grey horse with practised ease. Ten leans against the fench as he watches.

Dust turns his horse around and starts galloping through the area. Even faster than when he had been leading Ten on the other horse. Ten cheers as he grins widely. It looks so... unlike the brother Nine is used to... So very different.

Dust meanwhile makes the horse take a large turn and Ten grins as he looks around before grabbing a cap and throwing it into the pen. Dust aims the horse and straight up leans sideways and off the back of the horse. Almost fully upsidedown to easily snatch the cap of the ground before pulling himself back on the horse's back. Not once slowing down.

Ranha gasps "Hole shit that is so difficult... How?! Without slowing down!?" She is sitting up straighter to enable her to see everything easier. Pure awe on her face and Nine feels like he may have been not fully aware of how difficult that seemingly easy trick is...

Dust runs with the horse by Ten and straight up puts the cap on his skull. Again without once slowing down. Ten laughs and cheers "Go Dust go!" as he grins.

Dust keeps moving the horse around quickly and now he has started to zigzag with it! Nine blinks and looks at Ranha "Isn't that like... suposedly very hard for horses?"

Ranha nods as she doesn't look away from the display "It is insane! Horsese make large turns because of their back. I don't know how that horse is that flexible or how that guy can just direct the horse to make the turns by not actively turning but instead almost twisting in a jump?!" she stares "Is this what the rare horses can do? That inhabit this land? We need to get Regius to get some horses!"

Nine glares at his best friend "Don't speak the king's name so casually."

Ranha waves him off "It is fine. We were all friends before he became king so we are good."

Nine huffs as he focusses on the display of masterful horse riding. It is just that not speaking the title is disrespectful and he will not make them seem unprofessional or like they don't take their ruling class seriously. Regius only became king after the fall of the old one and Nine doesn't want people to think he is an easy target just because of that. And he doubts a brat like this country's king can see how much work they had to put into bettering what they had and helping their land and people heal from all the damage.

Ranha makes a curious noise close to choking and Nine pays attention just to see Dust standing on the back of the horse. Perfectly balanced and even balancing on one leg as the horse keeps running around the pen. He steps off the horse on a fench where he runs alongside the horse, the horse finally slowing a bit down, before Dust steps back on the back and the horse speeds up again.

Dust crouches down as he puts his hands on the horse's back before just making a handstand!

Nine can't imagine how hard standing on a horse could be. much less making a handstand?! He knows how to make a handstand of course and it is easier to do it with momentum. Dust did it without that.

Ten keeps cheering for his friend as Nine stares in awe. Ranha is muttering about how insane this is and how there has to be magic at play. Yet aside from the presure of the rain he has felt since the start he hasn't noticed any spells of any type. Not even to help lead or control the horses like other riders do. Nine can't help but just keep staring.

Dust sits back on the horse but backwards as he calmly undoes the saddle. The saddle falls off the horse and as soon as the saddle hits the ground it seems to disappear. Right, the saddle was part of that magic item Dust is testing. All while Dust remains seated on the powerful beast that is still running. Dust turns back around and messes with the reins that seem to make handholds on the headpiece.

Dust next grabs hold of the handholds and lays his legs on the back of the horse. He taps the side of the neck of the horse nad motions forwards before he lays fully against the horse.

The horse going fast before is nothing compared to how fast it runs now. It is bolting through the pen and there seems to be zero control that Dust has over it. Instead Dust just holds on and lets it do its things.

"He minimised his contact and hold on the horse. he freed the horse from the saddle to enable it to move even more freely and go faster!" Ranha looks downright excited as she just stands there and stares. Nine glares at her and pulls her back down to hide wiht him.

"Stop standing! They may see you!" Nine feels an anxiety at being caught snooping now. Not like before where he would just lie and say he wasn't snooping or spying. Now he is nervous about how it would reflect on him as a person, especially to the smaller and skilled skeleton. Fuck he wishes he was wearing his better armour than this one. He hadn't wanted to seem like he was trying to impress Orchard's ruler or make it seem like they thought they needed to impress this leader but he is regretting it now. How can he show him his best side when he isn't prepared!?

The horse continues to run before coming to a slow stop near Ten. Ten is grinning widely as he claps his hands "That was so cool! Dust it is nuts how fast you can go with Pearl!"

Dust shrugs as he gets off and grabs a brush to start taking care of the animal while Ten stands near his side. "I was wondering soemthing." Dust voice is soft and calm. Even.

Ten nods as he watches Dust work "Ask away."

Dsut shoots him a look before speaking again "I figured you would want to be near Nightmare with the guests here. Why with me?"

Ten goes quiet as he looks down. Nine nudges Ranha and nods. It is their time to act! This is the perfect set up-

A hand grabs him by the neck and pushes him flush against the barrels he had been hiding behind. Ranha makes a shocked sound and Nine can barely see her in the same position as he is in.

A deep voice speaks up "Dont you know that eavesdropping is rude? But what could be expect from snooping immature children."

Nine freezes. That is the voice of the big knight guy. The one wiht the lion mask. Horror. how... when? Nine hadn't even heard him! When did they get exposed and found out!?

Horror continues to speak "But if you wish to listen in. You will listen. You will hear what Cross has to say instead of speaking for him."

Ranha growls "His name isn't-UGH!" she chokes for a moment before the kngiht releases his grip a bit again.

"Listen."

Ten finally answers "It is dumb..."

Dust hums as he leans against the horse "Try me."

Ten isn't looking up as he rubs his own arm "I... I didn't expect them to be happy with me... That is fair. I just. Didn't expect them to hate me without knowing me." Ten frowns as he softly pets the horse "It is like... They are unhappy with who i am now and want me to be who i used to be, who i don't want to be anymore. Yet they hate that person." Ten hunkers in on himself "I don't... like feeling like that."

Dust frowns as he puts a hand on Ten's shoulder "That is on them."

Ten frowns as he looks away "It isn't... I" He frowns as he moves his hands around. Had... Had Ten always moved this much? That can't be right. Nine remembers him being still and unmoving. Their father had always been strict about staying in line and acting as they had to and-

and...

and being... the way he wanted... to be...

Like Nine wants Ten to be.

Oh...

Ten isn't the problem... is he?

Dust takes Ten's face between his hands and makes Nine's younger brother look at him "Cross. Look at me. No i mean it. Look at me." Ten stares at him and Dust looks at him "You are you. No one else. No one telling you how you should be or act is right. You are fine like this. You are happy like this. You can be however you want to be, whatever makes you feel good and feel like you are you." Dust gentle bonks their skulls together "I think you would do best if you visit Lust for a bit and you two hang out and focus on something else. Okay?"

Ten frowns but gives a slow nod "Okay."

Dust nods as he keeps holding the taller skeleton "And this is not me sending you away. I enjoy us spending time together. But i think being here while they are here is stressing you out. Making you second guess yourself. Go to a different environment and let yourself relax. When you come home we can try more horse riding or you can help Killer trying to get Kingdom Devourer out of a tree again. Go relax."

Ten frowns before nodding and just hugging the other. Dust chuckles and pats his back "You are fine the way you are Cross... In matter of fact. You are perfect the way you are." Ten's breath seems to hitch as he just holds the other tighter and continues to hold him. It isn't until some time passed that Ten lets go and steps back with an embarrassed expression and... and slightly hazy looking eyes.

"Sorry... I know you don't... don't like... I am sorry."

Dust chuckles and pats his back "It is alright. Go hang out with your boyfriend while I clean up."

Boyfriend... but... why would he... who would even want to date Ten? He doens't even have a personality and is just a tool and an idiot-

Except everything he has seen now shows otherwise and... Why does Nine expect Ten to be the same way that their father wanted them to be?

Ten walks away with a wave and goes straight towards the castle. Looking a bit better as he is smiling and seems to have a small bounce in each step.

Dust watches him go before he just walks straight towards their hiding place oh shit when did-

Dust stops before them and looks unamused. His gaze cold and seemingly able to look straight into his soul. Nine would have been frozen even without the hand holding his neck.

Dust looks at Horror "Good catch H. Trouble?"

Horror hums "They tried to get into our king's wing. I was ready to give backup."

Nine feels himself grow cold. They had been followed? The whole time? They had been watched the whole time and they hadn't even noticed!

Nine... Nine may have been wrong about how capable these guys are...

Dust hums "Lets put them in the jail cell as time out. Children should know not to wander after all."

Nine feels humiliated as he and Ranha are dragged towards the castle. Dust walks behind them as Horror leads the way, Horror does not let them walk.

They walk by some servants and Nine sees it are the same maids that they met in the hallway. The maids giggle and nod respectfully to both Horror and Dust and greet them with "Hello my Knights." before they shoot a glance at Ranha and Nine before gigglign together.

They are dropped off in a cell each and the door is locked. Nine goes to check the lock only to realise there is magic woven into the very bars and walls. These locks aren't just physical but also magical. He can't break them out.

Horror hums "There. Children have their time out." he looks highly amused as he nods to Dust "Mind taking over watch?"

Dsut shrugs as he walks towards the exit "I will take your shift. you make sure the children behave." and he leaves.

horror looks at them amused and Nine feels terrible...

Not just the fact he looked like an idiot to the pretty and skilled skeleton. But he also made a fool out of himself to be caught snooping and trying to get into places he isn't allowed to be.

He sits on the bed and can't help but look at his own hands.

Does... does Ten really not want to come home? How can Nine get him to come along? Will he be forced to drag his brother home.

Nine pauses at the thought and feels a new horrifying feeling overtake himself.

When did he become so much like his father?

[angellic-critique]

Oh yeah, Angel Dust has a sister, her name's Molly, there are a bunch of speed drawings with her.

Anon I think you are the only fan of Molly as I have not sent her be mentioned outside of 2017.

Genuinely thought that Molly was like Niffty/Vaggie situationship because I had NO fucking clue what stance Molly even was outside of just looking at a distant glance over definitely not realizing that was what happened to the past 'Angel Dust Drag'..... The fact that it personifies into a woman that is barely mentioned [much like angel representing or doing drag in the first place], turned into fucking THIS????

I cant even begin to comprehend.... She speaks for herself honestly. You can tell that viv genuinely did not give a fuck about the implications here or the lazy design that is 'Hmm angel dust but pink girly'

I feel like she just became cut content considering there hasn't ever been a mention about angels' family besides his Arackniss

Kinda weird how angel is more focused and put down upon in the spotlight more with Valentino and less with his 1930s mobster Italian spider persona :/ Even attempting to make a different womanly character known as the sister of angel dust, she is still tied down to him and has nothing besides this rainbow vomit old design.

How could I not be confused over angels' stance on dragging while VIV can't even fucking make characters up for him without retconning over herself!

You want this mess of a character design to be made but not Baxter???? I'm baffled. Thanks for bringing this horrid 'writing' decision to my notice. Since viv doesn't give a single lick of sense about Molly I too did not realize that Molly was supposed to be the hyper feminized pink eyesore that was SUPPOSED to be Angel's DRAG PERFORMING CARICATURE???

Your ask has the exact same amount of punch as telling me that Blitz has a sister, they are underwritten to be one of the same since they're women obviously Viv just doesn't like writing women ! :/

[seagull-scribbles]

I got so good at being untrue

[spotaus]

Thinking about my ec-4o babies again and I like. I feel like I need to flesh out Reaper some more... like, I'm going one character at a time, but many of them already have basic motivation or plot beats they overcome. Reaper has that... but not enough

Okay, so I got thinking about Dust (technically a Main Character alongside Blue) and then Geno (a side character with a LOT of plot relevance). And I subscribe to DustedAfterDeath for this au, so next my mind went to Reaper. But like. Reaper never naturally got much extra depth from my working on the story...

Reaper's jist is that he was raised in a long, long line of folks who lived alternatively from the rest of society. He was raised to believe that society without tech would be better. That everything from convenient vending machines to life-saving medical technology, everyone would be better off without it. That Technology was choking out the natural and magical worlds it relied on.

And... the mindset wasn't entirely wrong.

Only, they weaponized that into an irrational fear they set upon their communities, and isolated them from the outside world. They doomsday prepped, for decades, abd when the war finally came, they were too well prepared. They largely survived.

Reaper, a fit man who could leave and not be swayed by others, ventured out onto the wasteland. He was armed with rudimentary tech which allowed him to over-load and disable any tech he came in contact with. He was cleaning up any loose ends. Killing bots, and anyone who dared to have modified their own body with Tech in any way.

So, off he went. He worked mercenary jobs for free, killing bots and semis that bothered organic civilizations. He gained a reputation. "Death". He stumbled upon Geno, and unable to kill him, it starts a whole journey of renouncing his beliefs and turning over a new leaf.

Quick Note: Geno's soul absorbed a lot of electrical energy, so while the war ended, he was one of the few power sources left in the world. Reaper couldn't disable the tech *or* kill Geno because of this overwhelming magic that would drag him back together DT style.

I never thought beyond that. The biggest factor here, his renouncing his old life, has very little prompting in the og tale. I'm going to try abd fix that here thru brainstorming lmao.

So, Reaper, as he lives, has a *very* strict moral system, as well as a loyalty system. As he sees it, there are personal grudges, and there are betrayals of his faith. The latter is what gets people killed. He also has a strict rule with trust. Certain people he registers in his mind as 'ally' and when they make that list, the only way they'll be harmed by him is if they go against his core beliefs.

Geno, aside from being unkillable, manages to *redeem* himself in Reaper's eyes. When he frustratedly explains that he was the one who ended the war and temporarily destroyed all the tech. This information is vital to Reaper. He thinks he can get a secret from Geno, a way to make his life's goal cone true. And so he allows Geno to live. In fact, Geno swears to him that when he finishes this last task of his, he'll tell Reaper what he did to make the EMP.

Of course, this is a beneficial meeting of two with completely opposing beliefs. Geno loves ectos, at least he loves some of them, and programming/tech have been his whole life. He lets Reaper join him willingly, because Reaper is obnoxiously good at being a bodyguard and warding off threats which Geno physically can't (chronic pain). Also, the secret he'll tell Reaper won't endanger anyone, because the only way Geno made an EMP that big was because he sabotaged the main power source. Now a lot of electricity was magic-infused and didn't abide by the same rules at back then. It'd be too late for Reaper to do anything.

Meanwhile, Reaper, of course, thinks he's getting a free way to destroy all tech if he follows this half-dead science guy. And, ontop of that, Geno is a useful beacon to discover wandering bots and semis. So of course he follows him. He's civil at Blue's when they finally arrive, because he's biding his time to simply slaughter them all later.

But. Geno and Reaper don't get along. The prejudice they hold for eachother gets in the way of most meaningful conversation, and they end up bickering. Geno once told Reaper he was no better than the bots after he slaughtered a group of Semis, abd after that neither of them could get a glance at the other without a hostile 'what?' Or a slur or jab. By the time they arrive at Blue's, Geno is so sick and tired of Reaper, and Reaper really, really wishes he knew how to kill him.

Then there's Dust. Dust was on Reaper's 'ally' list. Reaper taught him how to properly fight, and how to use manual guns, years ago during the war. Seeing Dust again was a treat. Seeing him harboring ectos and semis and a Techie was less than charming. Dust himself didn't break any of his morals, though, so they remained on shockingly good terms. Reaper was their ticket inside, and he was *only* amicable to Dust, and occasionally Horror when he came by. He often joked about short-circuitinh the bots or would fry one of Blue's or Geno's work stations. It happened so often that Dust had to chew him out for it.

And honestly, he wasn't giving up. Geno nor Dust could change his mind, and even the revelry around the base did nothing to persuade him to loosen up.

Until he met Saejun.

Saejun was an ecto made for farming and tending to plants, years ago before the war. He was never upgraded or installed with the virus, and Rust had found him out half-buried along a dirt road. When he was fixed up, Saejun insisted he could bring some life back to the desert waste they were stuck in.

He did just that. He tended to plants across the property, encouraged magical abd non-magical creatures to habitate the place (mostly bugs + small nature spirits) and he would grow green life again. Hydroponics lined the sides of the warehouse, and during Reaper's stay they just kept growing. It was once when he'd been out looking for Dust that he noticed Saejun tending to the garden and playing with little nature spirits. He'd approached, doubtful, but upon inspection found that the magic in the area really was thriving. So close to walls of machinery, amd running along the body of tech itself.

It was his first proof in his whole life that the two things *could* and *did* co-exist. That it was Tech which was now bringing it back. He wasn't even programmed for anything beyond basic crops, Saejun just had a passion for plants.

*that* is Reaper's turning point. Where he finally starts looking at everyone differently. Asking Blue about why he builds and repairs bots. Why the bots stuck around, their purpose, what they do now. And, eventually, he asks Geno to explain coding to him. Just a bit. <- This last bit is met with hostility from Geno, which perpetuates this social barrier between them. Meanwhile Reaper really did want to reconcile.

It takes Dust, seeing this change and noticing the effort, for him to force the two of them to sit down and talk things out.

And after that, Reaper understands a lot more about hinself, and the world, abd everything he's done. He doesn't really regret it, but he doesn't let himself forget to change his ways.

Also it's still that Reaper talking things out with Geno makes them both really vulnerable by the end. This weakness displayed breaks them past eachother's shells and manages to get them to hang out more often, talk about eachothers interests, be normal guys.

And then Geno and Reaper fall in love (Not a quick turn-around, I prommy), and after time amd discussion, Dust is pulled in (because he and Reaper have history and mutual Crushing, and Geno and Dust have an obnoxious amount in common). The three of them all get along.

But, yeah, finally fleshed out Reaper some more. His past was so isolating that all he needed was the little push to see that not everything was bad and horrible and evil <3

[chancheols]

Well, that was bleak

[faunandfloraas]

You make me want to listen to FNF every time but I hate that song it makes me SO sad

someones not catching uuuuuuh uhhhhh uhhhh upppppppp

[thetimelordbatgirl]

With all the mystery around who Ruby is and who her mom is, I really, really hope it isn't actually the Trickster like others have been saying, because while yes it would be nice to see something from SJA appear in current DW, it also would just feel weird at this point as the Trickster was such a Sarah Jane villain that it just feels wrong to give him to the Doctor as an enemy just because Sarah Jane is gone.

[liliavnrg]

My luck with Lilia cards is SO good, guys. He's my husband so obviously he always comes home. (I'm crying on the floor.)

[arolesbianism]

Yet another beautiful day to have the Maxwel tag blocked (can't see half of the posts in the Wendy tags)

[cobaltfluff]

> me, a low-confidence cook

> making risotto for the first time

> it turns out amazing and is the best risotto I've ever tasted

> thank you Vincenzo from Vincenzo's Plate

[aphel1on]

NO FUCKING WAYYYY

this is like. the 4th or 5th time in a row I've won my 50/50

[poisonf0rest]

Intertidal Zone

♱⋅── rafayel x reader

♱⋅── about: Nightly Rendezvous card, but now we finally understand why rafayel was so desperate when he came back to the hotel room.

♱⋅── word count: 6.7k

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, porn with some plot, the belt scene, slight exhibisionism, sooo much kissing, slight oral fixation, Lemurian mating bond, needy raf

art credit to @/khouxy on instagram

You swear Rafayel is doing this on purpose. 

The first time it happens is right after your flight, the two of you only just managing to check into your hotel and change for dinner.

It's a fancy restaurant overlooking the vast desert, and the outdoor patio offered a clear view to gorgeous sunset. Furious spirals of orange and vermillion cast their light across the sand, making it appear to glow as winds kick up waves of golden dust along the horizon.

It’s beautiful, almost as much so as the man across you, who is still staring longingly into the distance as though committing every color to memory. As if repainting it entirely in his mind. 

Not hues of warmth, but those of the deep sea. Blues and purples and colors so dark they’d only come to life in the night. 

“How’s your drawing?” 

Rafayel sighs at your voice, tossing his pen across the dinner table with a huff before leaning back against the sofa. A stack of crumpled sketches litter your table among half-finished plates of food. He insisted on traveling here to relax, and yet he seems to be doing everything but. 

“If a few lines count as a drawing, then wonderfully.” Sassy as ever.

He sighs again, but this one sounds more pained, and you notice the red tinge highlighting his ears and neck as he leans against your shoulder. 

“You still don’t feel good?” You ask, voice hushed as you place a kiss against his temple, the skin burning beneath your lips. Raising a hand, Rafayel immediately nuzzles into your palm as you pull his chin up towards you, feeling the rising temperature along his cheek and forehead. “We can head back if you’d like. Take a bath, or shower?” 

You hoped the together was implicit by now.

But Rafayel only nods, placing a chaste kiss against your exposed shoulder. “What about the sunset? I saw you admiring it, and squandering a beautiful view is unacceptable for an artist. It’s one of the greatest offenses.”

Rafayel’s breath is minty and dry against your ear, and when you turn to look at him, his face is doused in the fiery hues of the sunset, each one casting deep purple shadows that only make his features all the sharper, half his face veiled in darkness. 

Some days you wish you were an artist as well, if only to capture moments like this—to show Rafayel just how gorgeous he was. 

Perhaps it’s only natural for a god. After all, no mortal could ever need beauty so violently arresting, so worthy of worship. 

You’re leaning in despite yourself. 

Rafayel meets you halfway, one hand on your waist as the other traces your jaw and bottom lip. But as soon as you feel the brush of his lips across yours, he pulls away. 

You open your eyes in confusion. Rafayel’s never denied you before. 

When you look at him in question, he only gives you a tired smile and pulls you to your feet with a chaste kiss on your cheek. “Sorry. I’ll feel better as long as I’m close to you like this.”

The second time it happens is when the hotel reception mixes up your and Rafayel’s rooms, leaving you to deliver some sort of formal invitation to him. 

But the letter is soon forgotten; you can’t be bothered thinking about it, not when Rafayel still looks so absent.

He’s right next to you, knees brushing yours as you sit side by side on the couch, and yet he seems to be miles away, gazing out the window as the dunes shift and rise like waves under the moonlight.  

"I used to really enjoy scenic spots before," Rafayel says, voice barely rising above the hum of the heater. "Catching sights of subtle things that might be easily overlooked used to feel like enough. More satisfying than finishing a painting, even."

A laugh. Dry, humorless. 

His fingers grazed the edge of his glass, tracing the condensation absentmindedly. A droplet trails down his wrist. "But now, sometimes, I forget why I even decided to travel in the first place.” 

You watch him, waiting. He doesn’t meet your gaze.

"I think," Rafayel continues, "somewhere along the way, I stopped just... noticing things. And I started needing them. Like the world wasn’t worth looking at unless I could turn it into something. Capture it, hold it in my hands, and call it mine." He shakes his head, a shadow of a smile crossing his lips. "It’s not a very generous way to live, is it?"

"You don’t need to be generous with everything," you say carefully. "Some things are just... for you to enjoy."

"Enjoy," he repeats, like the word doesn’t quite fit in his mouth. A pout. "It doesn’t feel like enjoyment anymore. It feels more like... hunger.” 

Like he’s always fucking starving.

Rafayel finally turns to look at you, eyes eclipsed in the dark. Nearly dilated black. 

“Sometimes I’m afraid that if I feed it, it’ll only grow worse.”

You turn to face him on the couch, sliding your leg between his thighs before perching yourself on Rafayel’s lap. It’s not lost on you how his heartbeat picks up, chest rising and falling rapidly as each shallow breath hits your lips. Perhaps it’s cruel, but you can’t help but touch him again, fingers tracing his full lips, up his jaw, fluttering against his eyelashes and into his hair.

“You think hunger gets worse when you feed it?" You finally ask, voice quiet, slow, daring to push back. "Doesn't it stop when you're full?"

Rafayel’s mouth quirks, a sharp, fleeting twist of a smile. "Not always. Sometimes it makes you realize just how much more you want. Or how much more you could take."

You frown. “You’re not demanding anything. Not from the world, not from me."

"Maybe not yet. But, if one day, I become someone who only takes… If I were like that, would you leave me?"

The confession hangs for a moment, the truth of it hidden. Something about the way his shoulders tense under your touch— like he's bracing for something, but it hasn’t yet arrived. A phantom pain from centuries ago, and a pain to come for a thousand years more. 

“Silly fishie, I’d never leave you.” 

Rafayel smiles in a way you know all too well, lopsided and teasing and empty.

“Thank you…” he hums, finally pulling you closer as his lips skim alongside the curve of your neck. “for accepting me the way I am.”

His breaths come out in desperate huffs against your skin, and he inhales sharply, freezing, before finally placing a kiss against the crook of your neck. And then another, and another. 

“You’re just anxious,” you whisper, sucking a mark into Rafayel’s neck as he moans so sweetly against your ear. “I can help you relax.”

You wiggle your hips to better balance yourself on his lap and Rafayel looks almost near tears, one hand forcing you still while the other grabs your wrist, trailing kisses from your fingertips back up to your neck.

More. You need more. Rushing, your hands fly up into his hair, about to tug Rafayel to lay down on the couch when a crack echoes behind you. 

The glass lays shattered against the floor. 

Panting, Rafayel stares at the spilled water for a long moment before pulling away. You feel his erection digging into your thigh, the warmth of his fever spiking yet again as his skin burns against yours, yet he still refuses. 

“As you said, I’m anxious…” Still panting, Rafayel picks you up, gently lifting you up as he stands from the couch. “Or, more like restless. In every sense of the word.” 

The need in his eyes almost makes your knees buckle. He looks at you like you’re the only thing he could ever crave, like a bite would both be salvation and leave him hungry forever. 

“But see, now I can’t stand the idea of letting you go again, and you don’t want me to either.” He sets you down just a little farther than necessary, but his hands don’t leave your waist, trembling, waiting. “What should we do?”

“Rafayel…” You want him. You want him so badly it hurts. 

“Fuck.” 

You nearly jump at that. Rafayel curses again, his head falling onto your shoulder as his breath hitches. “I can feel your concern. That and…” another convulsion, his body burning up. “Fuck. You have to leave.”

You don’t even have time to retort before you’re pushed out of his hotel room, and the door slams shut behind you. 

By the third time, you know something is wrong. 

It’s not that you and Rafayel haven’t kissed yet. Hell, you’ve had sex before. The last time was quite literally on the night before you were supposed to leave for this trip. Obviously, Rafayel suggested that you stay at his place for the night—insisting he was closer to the airport and getting an Uber would be quicker this way—and one thing led to another, as is what happens nearly every time Rafayel and you are left alone for too long. 

But now it’s been nearly a week and Rafayel has barely touched you, let alone picked up on your not-so-subtle clues. 

So yes, it's safe to say you’ve become rather pent up. 

You’ve fallen asleep in the off-roader the two of you rented out for the day, bobbing up and down the dunes like waves flecked white not with seafoam but snow. There’s a chill as you drift off, but your dreams are anything but, plagued with memories of Rafayel. 

His hands, deft and talented with a brush, are even more so when teasing your skin, knowing exactly how to trace delicate circles against your thighs before roughly curling into your cunt. His tongue, every smartass comment and teasing grin now silenced as he licks and sucks against your clit. His body, the warmth of it, bearing down on you with every thrust, or perhaps writhing beneath you as you take him again and again and again— 

It’s the cold that wakes you up. 

Your eyes flutter open, first noticing the dim light of the hotel parking lot, and second, the burning desire still aching between your legs. 

“Rafayel?”

A shuffle makes you turn, and you find said man still seated in the driver’s seat, unbuckled as he sits with his head resting on his hand. 

“Yes, cutie?” Rafayel’s tone is teasing, but the way he stares down at you feels like anything but. The hunger is back. 

Sitting up, you clear your throat. “How long have I been asleep? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You seemed like you were having such a nice dream, I didn’t want to disturb you.” 

You inhale sharply. Glaring, you try and see if he’s teasing again or being serious, but Rafayel doesn’t let you read him for long, already leaning over the middle console. 

He places his lips gently on your temple, brushing over the skin, and then moves down to your cheek, his breath warm against your neck. He whispers your name, so softly you almost think it was a trick of your imagination.

Your mind goes blank when he kisses your jaw, a small noise escaping the back of your throat as you feel his hair tickle your skin.

"Raf," you mumble under your breath, but you know he hears it because he exhales sharply against you.

Rafayel trails a series of kisses up your neck, "I know, I know. I'm sorry, cutie." His body temperature is rising again, and the air in the van feels dangerously thin as he sways in your grasp. "I'm trying."

The hunger is back, all-consuming and hot as you genuinely fear you might burn up. A wave of dizziness washes over you, and you finally cup Rafayel's jaw, leading him towards your lips.

Yet again, he stops you halfway.

“Do you want to go back to your room first?”

At first you think he’s suggesting moving there before continuing, but you know better at this point. 

“You’re not coming with me?” 

Rafayel pulls out the invitation from before, waving it between the two of you as if all this was the letter’s fault. “I still have to attend my friend’s salon thing.”

“But you’re still burning up! Forget this, I can’t let you go out to who knows where when you’re still acting strange. Maybe we can see a doctor—”

“Cutie…”

“—No, no. Or maybe I can come with you.”

Rafayel says your name this time. Firmer. Cutting off your rambling as he places his forehead against yours. 

“Do you want me to turn into a sea creature that’s beached on the sand after the ocean recedes? Leaving me to suffocate when I come out of the water?” 

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, feeling his desperation in every word even as you struggle to make sense of it.

Rafayel continues, pulling away from you again. “Don’t you trust me? How about we make a promise?”

“What kind of promise?”

A smile. “I promise… I’ll be okay without you tonight.”

There’s no joke, no hidden meaning, just Rafayel who so violently hopes that this promise will hold true. 

So you relent. “Okay, just take care of yourself.”

Finally, Rafayel opens the car door, letting the desert night winds sweep in with a biting chill as he leans back against the driver’s seat. He lets out an almost inaudible sigh. “You can head back. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Rafayel promised he’d be okay without you tonight, but you don’t think the opposite could hold true. 

Not when the dizziness Rafayel caused remained. Not when you still feel the phantom touch of his lips and hands all over your body, burning you up, leaving you cold and empty and aching. 

You’ve been burning for the better part of a week now.  

Something stuck between a laugh and a cry of pure frustration leaves you as you fall onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “This is pathetic.”

Even the damned sheets smell like Rafayel, pillows deeply laced with his shampoo and the smell of his cologne—amber, yuzu, and something salty like the ocean—surrounding you as though this were his hotel room and not yours.

Desert nights were cold, but even the room's chill could do nothing to quell your desire, arms shaking with it as you quickly stripped yourself of your shirt and bra. The room spins as you stumble around, leaving your clothes on the floor, another delirious whimper seizing you as you sprawl against the silk sheets. 

You need him. 

Fuck, you need him, and you hate him for leaving you while the growing ache between your thighs threatens to swallow you whole.

The sheets are deliciously cool against your flushed skin, and you turn your head to rest your cheek in the cool embrace of the pillow. But it only needs a second to heat from your desire. 

And then the room is all too hot once again. 

Kicking off your pants, your hand snakes down your bare torso, leaving half-hearted squeezes to your breasts and hips, failing to replicate the touch Rafayel already has you addicted to. The memory only makes you more frustrated. 

A hand slips beneath your soaked underwear, and fuck, you’re dripping enough to ease your fingers in already. You force yourself to slow down, rubbing slow circles around your entrance, the mere friction enough to have your hips bucking up against nothing. 

Inhaling sharply, you slide a finger into your weeping cunt, a moan pushing from your lungs as you do. Not enough. It’s not enough.

You force yourself to draw each movement out, the curl of your wrist accompanied by your muffled cries and the slick, obscene sounds echoing alongside your ragged breath. Withdrawing your finger nearly to the fingertip, two plunge back in this time, and your back arches off the bed with violent tremors as you imagine it was Rafayel's hand instead.

How he’d tease you in the early mornings to wake you up, how he’d take special care of every sensitive spot on your body, how he’d draw his fingers along your clit just the way that will make you come undone.

And as your fingers find that sensitive bundle of nerves, the way you cry his name into the empty room is no different.

Your head is spinning, falling, your thighs shake, and it's not long before you're gasping out, "Rafayel, please.”

Still not enough. Every rough thrust of your fingers brings you higher and higher, but without the pressure of Rafayel's chest pressed to yours, or his hot breath ghosting across your ear, his voice, his lips, his touch—

Without him.

A sob rips from your throat, your hips bucking uselessly against the air as you fuck yourself harder, deeper. But your fingers are only so long, and your free hand, fisting the sheets, is unable to make up the difference. "No, no please," a whine, and your free hand rushes to circle your clit, the other picking up pace.

You're close, so close, sobbing his name when the dizziness from the car returns tenfold, overtaking your body in waves as your eyes roll back. "Please, ah! Rafayel, m’cumming-"

The world goes silent as pleasure surges through you, muscles convulsing, a choked, garbled sound escaping as you come. Collapsing back against the sheets, you struggle to catch your breath, the stickiness of both the heat and your orgasm coating your thighs. 

There’s another tug, a violent pull against your chest, but the dizziness remains. 

You know you should change the sheets or at least move them aside, but you can’t manage to do either as you rush to shower before Rafayel returns from his friend’s exhibition. 

It’s only when you stumble into the bathroom that you notice it. 

Shit. This is Rafayel’s room. 

You must be trying to kill him.

Surely, this is the gods' cruelest trial—a final test of his resolve—to see if he’d bow once more, forsaking divinity and succumbing to the temptation of you.

Because it’s been barely an hour, and Rafayel has already resigned himself from the party, passing blank smiles and empty compliments as he quietly counts down the minutes until he can return to the hotel, when suddenly he feels it.

The tug of your bond flashes through his body as his dick aches.

Rafayel freezes mid-sentence, the polite smile he'd been wearing slipping from his face. The conversation at the bar around him, something about chiaroscuro in the artist’s latest piece, become muffled static as the chains tighten, digging into his heart. 

It’s unmistakable now. The rhythm, the rising intensity, the waves of pleasure that don’t belong to him but still manage to spark delirious heat up his veins.

Rafayel’s breaths quicken, body temperature rising as his Evol flickers out of his control. He glances around the room, feigning interest in the conversation, the glittering glasses of champagne, the faint hum of the crowd. It doesn’t work. The only thing he can focus on is you.

He should leave. Go outside, breathe in the night air, and let the tether between you both loosen, just to regain control. Just to prove to himself it’s not too late.

But the bond tightens, as invasive as it is intoxicating, demanding Rafayel’s attention like a leash coiled around his neck. It’s not gentle. It’s not kind. It’s primal, every nerve in his body pulled taut like you’re screaming his name over and over into the depths of his soul. 

It’s not fair.

No god can deny the prayer of a worshipper.

Your pleasure becomes his, and when Rafayel closes his eyes, he swears he can feel your phantom hands on him, dick already heavy and throbbing, leaking through his expensive trousers.

Are you in bed, thighs trembling as you grind against your own palm? Or maybe the shower, steam curling around you as you chase release? Or worse—are you riding something of his? His shirt? His pillow? Is this vengeance a cruel punishment meant to shatter what little resolve he has left? 

Shit. He’s hard.

“Hey man, what’s wrong? You good?” 

The slam of a glass brings him back. Gods, he hates these rich socialites. 

The champagne glass Rafayel was holding is now covered in cracks, blood trickling down his ring finger. He’s unraveling, composure fracturing with every pulse of your pleasure surging in and out as violently as a full moon’s tide. 

Rafayel looks up, smiling. “Stress. And apparently a very needy pet.”

The man laughs at what he assumed was a joke, but Rafayel sees his hesitation, the type animals give when they pick up rustling in the bush. Fear. 

Rafayel’s grin only widens, all teeth. “I should probably go check on her. Wonderful party,” he adds, lifting his glass in a half-hearted toast before setting it down with a sharp clink.

As he steps outside, the desert air does nothing to soothe him. If anything, the dryness makes it worse as the pull becomes sharper, like you’re reaching for him, your need coiling tighter around his chest.

A growl, almost feral, rumbles low in his throat as he staggers down the cobblestone streets. He doesn’t need directions. He doesn’t even need to think. His body moves instinctively, guided by the bond, by you. 

Rafayel swears he can feel you all across his body, your heartbeat picking up as you get closer, the smell of your skin and arousal, the cries of his name that only become more and more desperate as you fail to bring yourself over the edge without him. 

You’re begging for him in a way his bond mistakes for worship, because Rafayel’s body feels like it’s burning. Like blood spilled on his altar, an offering of yourself to your god, your husband.

The thought that you might be doing so unintentionally only drives him further into madness.

But, beneath the frustration, there’s something else. A glimmer of something Rafayel hates to name but knows all too well: relief.

Because as much as he might deny it, Rafayel could never leave you. And now that you’ve reciprocated, now that you’ve begged for him oh so sweetly, he would gladly submit to his bond and become chained to you once again, forever at your mercy, unable to escape the inevitability of his fate.

He doesn’t even knock when he reaches the hotel room door. It swings open under the force of his hand, and the sight of you standing there—wide-eyed, startled, only in a bath towel—hits him like a blow to the chest.

There's a soft click as Rafayel locks the door. A hurried shuffle of shoes as he all but stumbles toward you, closing the distance between you in one hurried, unstoppable motion. A startled gasp as he grabs your face in his hands.

It's the last breath you take.

An arm wraps around your waist, blocked by only a flimsy hotel towel as Rafayel violently spins you around. Your surprise is swallowed by his lips as you’re pinned against the window, the chill of the desert snow, frosted against the glass, a harsh contrast to the burn of his touch. His hand pins yours at the wrist as he stares down at your fingers.

“Rafayel? What are you doing here?” 

The question barely gets out, not before he rushes forward to claim you in a kiss, if it was even that. A desperate, consuming need overtakes him, Rafayel pushing you back so insistently that your head hits the window with a thud, pain immediately distracted as his clothed knee grinds up between your bare thighs. 

Holy fuck, just a towel. Right.

You try to push him back, one hand pressing against his chest as the other flies back to tighten the towel. “Wait–”

Rafayel kisses you again. And again. And again. 

You can feel the cloth slipping.

But Rafayel makes it very hard to care. His hand traces your throat, your heartbeat, then drags you closer by your hips as he thrusts forward in time, still caging you against the window. He’s relentless, every kiss only broken with a ragged breath or gasp as though he’s given up on breathing entirely, content to consume you instead, his tongue sweeping against your lip before it coaxes yours to meet it halfway, licking and sucking into your mouth.

It’s obscene, animalistic, and you swear that there has to be something wrong with you because the dizziness is back, and this time it’s enough to make your knees buckle, the two of you blindly stumbling across the hotel room.

So you bite him. 

“Why–” Breathe. Remember how to breathe. “Why are you here?”

Rafayel almost looks offended, thumbing his bitten lip before licking away the smudge of blood with a lopsided smile. 

Fuck, he’s hard. You feel the heat of his cock jolt against your thigh, pressing into you as he surges forward again, kissing you as his hands squeeze and cup your waist, lifting you up.

"Why?" Rafayel laughs, roughly grinding up against you, your legs wrapping instinctively around his hips. "This is my room, remember? You’re the one who decided to come in here." He growls the last part, licking, biting, sucking at your throat. 

“Or was that intentional?”

The look in his eyes is feral. 

There’s no hesitation left, no half-riddled questions, no sweet praises, no semblance of your devoted lover. Just hunger. He’s rushing, pushing forward even with nowhere to go, almost in revenge. In punishment. Your teeth click together, foreheads bumping, unable to talk because when you try to open your mouth his tongue only slides in deeper. 

The wet sounds echo against your ears alongside your racing heartbeat, only causing you to grind harder, rougher, before Rafayel ungracefully drops you onto the bed. 

Your body bounces on the mattress, but it gives you a moment, and you scramble to cover Rafayel’s lips with your palm before he can begin devouring you again. 

“What I meant was, shouldn’t you still be at that art salon?”

He all but collapses into your touch. Lips parted, he grabs your wrist, tongue darting out as he licks up your middle and ring fingers, moaning against your skin. 

“I tried. I tried going, leaving.” He's panting, breathing in your scent before biting your palm. “But you called me back, you cruel, selfish human. And now I’ll never leave again.”

Your words come out between moans, unable to look away. “I called? I didn’t do—” You’re cut off as Rafayel licks up your skin, sucking lightly at your fingertips as his eyes, half-lidded and blown out stare down into yours. 

Oh.

A hot flush of embarrassment seizes you and Rafayel must sense it because his eyes flutter closed. His hips snap forward, grinding his erection into the side of the bed, and he lets out a low whine.

Gods, the taste of your cum lingers in Rafayel’s mouth. Every dry swallow, every inhale, every damn breath tastes like you, and it makes him want to submit to every horrid urge and simply consume until—

“You don't think I know? Don't think I can’t tell?” Rafayel goes back to kissing your wrist, needing something more, something stronger. His hand ventures to the edge of your towel. ”Can feel everything you do, no matter how far away I go. Gods, I feel it, feel everything, and it drives me insane. Need you so bad, need to hear you, feel you, taste you..."

A shudder runs up Rafayel’s spine at the mere thought, and he can't stop himself anymore, leaning down to suck your fingers into his mouth, tongue curling around the digits, saliva coating your fingertips. He rips the towel from your body.

"Say you need me too," He’s begging, sinking down to your knees. "Say you need me just as badly. I–ah fuck—I can smell how much you want me."

Throwing the towel to the floor, Rafayel runs his hands down your chest, rougher, long fingers cupping and massaging your breasts as his mouth trails wet kisses down your stomach, his tongue dragging against the smooth skin, a clear goal in mind as he settles between your thighs, looking up at you as though you were a thing worthy of worship. His Goddess. 

He’d offer himself to your alter time and time again. So long as he was the only one who got to bleed for you. 

“Yes.” You’re already soaked, the sight of Rafayel panting between your thighs enough to have you babbling, ”Yes, Rafayel. I needed you so, so badly all week. Couldn’t help m’self, please.”

He freezes at that, pouting. “Right, you already came, didn’t you. So mean, cutie. Leaving me out.”

Before you can argue, Rafayel dips his head, dragging his tongue up your cunt before sucking roughly at your clit. 

Your legs thrash above his shoulders. “Ah– wait, not so!” It’s too much too soon. Still sensitive from your prior orgasm, your back arches violently off the mattress, but Rafayel pays it no heed, deaf to your cries as he sloppily makes out with your pussy, drool and slick connecting his lips to you in sticky strands even as he pulls away just far enough to talk. 

“She’s already so sensitive, s’not fair,” he pouts, mouthing against your thigh as he flicks your throbbing bundle of nerves. You jolt, gasping at the sharp jolt of pain. At the same time, Rafayel fucks his tongue into your cunt, just barely dipping in before he moves back to rub nonsensical patterns on your clit. “But this is mine. I don’t want you touching it without permission anymore.”

Fuck, if you had any semblance of a coherent thought you would have argued, maybe even laughed at the sheer audacity of the man.

Instead, all you can manage is a pathetic whine of his name, because the strange swirls and harsh lines he’s licking into your clit aren’t patterns at all but letters, spelling something over and over and over again. 

R-A-F-A-Y-E-L-R-A-F-A-Y-E-L-R-A-F-A-Y—

The ring of the hotel phone buzzes from the nightstand. It’s the artist whose party Rafayel left only minutes ago.

“Tch,” Rafayel scoffs in annoyance, whiping his chin as he goes to decline the call.

But this gives you a moment to breathe, and all you can think of is getting revenge. Especially on the bastard who tried to take Rafayel from you tonight. 

“Wait,” you grab his wrist. “You’re just going to hang up? What if it was something important?”

Rafayel turns to you with narrowed eyes, knowing there’s no good intent behind your wicked smile. It turns you on more than you can admit, the sight of his glare, mad at both the call and you interrupting his feast. But Rafayel can't deny you anything and does as he’s told, pressing accept. 

“The guest of this room is unable to answer. Please leave a message.”

Instantly, you have Rafayel on his back. 

His neck looks far too bare, and you climb onto his lap, enjoying the way his pulse kicks up under your palm.

Ripping his shirt’s buttons off, you begin biting dark spots down the pale expanse of his chest and neck. You’re about to aim right for the glowing mark on his chest when the phone beeps again, playing a voice recording of a clearly very drunk man. 

“Why did you leave, bro? Come back here r’now. One more round of drinks a—” Incoherent laughter and sounds of clinking glasses. 

No. No, Rafayel’s not allowed to leave you, not again. 

You don’t know where the fear comes from, but you force yourself closer on top of him, breasts pressing into his abs as Rafayel shivers beneath you. Leaning down, you kiss the glowing mark atop his heart, admiring the way it flickers and glows when Rafayel bucks into your touch, moaning as you begin to nip and suck in earnest. 

And then you’re flipped onto the mattress once more. 

Rafayel’s heaving, arms trembling to keep himself up. Away. “...Are you sure?”

“If I don’t, then you might actually leave. What will you say if you’re asked why you didn’t go back?”

Rafayel smirks, and you catch a glimpse of fangs as he sits back on his knees. There’s a click, the rough sound of metal on metal as he undoes his belt, unzipping his trousers with one hand as the other cups the inside of your thigh, yanking it over his shoulder as he drags you down the bed. “I’m busy.”

And then he’s kissing you. 

You’re lost, so hopelessly lost in each other that you fail to notice the phone beep once again, the monotone voice of the machine saying, “Please leave a message at the tone,” before flashing twice, still running. 

Again, Rafayel seems to forget the concept of breathing, gasping into your lips as he ruts his hips into yours. “You’re not leaving me, right?” Fuck, he’s leaking all over his stomach, pre-cum splattering across your thighs.

“Never. I’ll never leave you, Rafayel.”

“Then tell me you’re mine. Tell me, please, please—hah—tell me and I’ll do anything, promise cutie, promise.” He’s all but gasping between kisses, cock trapped between his body and yours as he grinds forward, voice a pitch or so higher than it usually would be. “Say it, say you're mine, tell me, I need to hear it again."

He's talking in circles, rambling, the desperation in his voice palpable. Grasping the base of his cock, he sloppily fisting himself once, twice, before thumping against your entrance.

“I’m yours, Rafayel.” You writhe, grinding yourself up against him in hopes that he’s just hurry the fuck up.

“Again.”

“I’m yours, yours Rafayel.”

“Again, ah—again,” he’s nuzzling into your neck, lifting your leg higher and higher, pinning it to your head as he folds you into a matting press. Still, he refuses to press in, cock throbbing against your clit as he hugs you tight, every muscle in your body screaming in protest and pleasure. “Again, please, please.”

“I’m-” You’re either gasping or crying, words flooding out, ”Rafayel’s, I’m Rafayel’s.”

At that, Rafayel’s entire body convulses. He sobs, finally thrusting forward, bullying up into you bit by bit, forcing you to count every inch as the entirety of his weight bares down onto you. 

You can feel the way his muscles shift, the way his arms bulge and contract as he holds himself above you, hips flush against yours. The desert air must be infecting him, because Rafayel is dripping sweat, flushed from his ears to his chest as he begins to pull out and slowly grind himself back in. 

His voice is wrecked, breathless as he tries to kiss you, missing slightly as he sucks against your bottom lip, drooling. "I'm yours too, I'm yours." At the same time, his cock jerks in you, burying deeper with every filthy roll of his hips, throbbing against your sweet spots. 

Then something snaps, Rafayel’s lips sealed back on yours, and the rhythm he sets is brutal.

Rafayel's cock drags over your walls, molding you in ways you never thought possible. Each thrust is hard, deep, and leaves you gasping, eyes rolling back into your head as you arch off the mattress, nowhere to go as his body folds yours damn near in half, weight bearing down on you.

It's all you can do to wrap your arms around him, nails scratching into his back, drawing thin lines of blood across his shoulder blades as you try to stay grounded, keep your mind from being swept away as the dizziness returns.

But the pressure building up in the pit of your stomach makes it hard.

Harder still as Rafayel begins mumbling into your lips, the filth pouring from his mouth making you clench, cunt fluttering around his cock as he pounds into you.

He can see and feel everything like this. Unable to look away from your face only inches away, watching every expression with love-drunk eyes, hugging you closer, fucking you harder.

"Can feel you, can feel you getting tighter. You're close right? Say you're close, please, mhm fuck." he's panting, and if you focus hard enough you can hear the sloppy noises of him sliding in and out, wet and obscene, the harsh slap of his balls against the curve of your ass.

But then Rafayel’s pushing himself lower, your legs dangling uselessly in the air as his chest is pressed so tight against yours you can barely take a breath.

"You're mine, only I can touch you like this, feel this. My wife. Say it, say you're mine, wanna hear it, please. Please, ah, I’ll do anything, say it."

He's barely pulling out anymore, resigning to quick, deep grinds as though he can’t bear to part.

Too uncoordinated to kiss you, Rafayel's head falls to your neck, sobbing into your marked-up skin before messily kissing atop the bruises.

"Yours. Yours. I'm yours, your wife," the words spill from your lips before you can even think, and Rafayel nearly passes out trying to stop himself from cumming then and there. 

It’s like you’re trying to milk him, hugging him closer and ankles wrapped around his neck as he’s lifting your hips right off the bed. But now he needs to see it.

Needs to know the way you'll cry out his name, how your eyes will glaze over and roll back into your head, the way your chest will heave, the sweat that will pool at the valley between your breasts, the way the skin will flush from a soft pink to a burning red as you lose yourself in the feeling. To him.

It's the only thing he's able to concentrate on, the only thing he's able to think of. The feeling of your body beneath him, the sound of his name on your lips. 

And that alone is enough.

Rafayel’s orgasm is sudden, a jolt of pleasure that surges up his spine with enough intensity to have him collapse, pinning your body beneath him. You can feel it, the way his cum splatters against the walls of your womb, painting your insides, filling you up until the excess squirts out around his cock and your intertwined thighs. He can't stop his hips, can't stop the way he grinds his pelvis against yours, trying to get deeper and deeper still. 

"Mine, mine, mine," is all he can say, eyes wide and pupils blown out as he watches the way your body twitches, a mixture of sweat and cum painting your body as you nearly pass out in exhaustion. "Gonna- gonna fill you up, fuck, so pretty, my pretty girl, pretty wife, gonna make sure it sticks, so I’ll never leave. So you’ll never leave me again."

You're cumming.

He can feel the way your cunt spasms, the way your walls lure him back in, the way you tremble and shake as you throw your head back with tears. 

Rafayel can't stop himself from leaning down and biting, teeth sinking into the crook of your neck, his hands grabbing at any bit of flesh he can find. All the while he fucks you through your orgasm, the mess of fluids creating the most obscene noises as they squish and bubble out, pooling out from between your bodies. 

As you’re swaying in and out of reality, you think you see it. A field of red flame lilies, a poison so sweet that when you drink it, you lick your lips and thank the gods. 

God. Just one, the one of the sea and the flaming sun. 

The one who's still kneeling before you. 

The one who you love. 

"Maximum voicemail length reached, recording sent."

♱⋅── a/n: Uber now canonically exists in the lnds universe, thanks. Also, I would have included the absolutely gut-wrenching aftercare included in the card with MC asking Rafayel to sing for her, but honestly I would not change that scene in the slightest and am content to believe that is exactly what happened next.

Oh the things I’d give to hear Raf sing~

[aria0fgold]

Ariaaaaaa

I thought of "what if in 400 years cain still thinks about nicholas just like faust still thinks about alec" and i made myself saaaaad

And you decided to inflict that sad thought onto me 😭 How dare you /lh. Ya think Cain also made Nicholas a grave to give flowers to him in addition to the graves he's already visiting too? 😔There's also the fact that Nicholas' grave is empty cuz he didn't even leave a body, he just turned to dust. And Cain wasn't even the one that dealt the last blow like he first declared.