#lnds rafayel

[slapmeshigaraki]

"You're pretty when you cry."

summary: uhhh meanie!rafayel likes it when you squirt...to put it simply

cw: pussy slapping, really condescending, slut shaming, daddy

"No no no more talking. You lost your speaking privileges." The usually soft-spoken boy was suddenly enraged, growling through his gritted teeth as he slammed his hips into you from behind, snaking his free hand around your body and covering your mouth.

"You should be thanking me, honestly. It's not like you deserve to feel good, do you? Brats shouldn't get to come at all. I'm doing you a favor, aren't I sweet?" Your muffled screams only made him fuck into you faster, your sticky skin smacking against his, creating such filthy sounds--god, it was all making him so painfully hard. Tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes now as he forced your face down into the mattress, reveling in the way he could see every muscle in your back tense and contract whenever he pushed himself into you.

"Fuuuck, you're so wet, angel. You don't like this, do you? You getting off on being bullied? Only a slut would like that--you're not a slut, are you baby?" He released your mouth, anticipating an answer, but only moans left your lips.

"Answer me and don't fucking lie." His hips stilled at once, a few free fingers sliding down between your legs, threatening to slam down onto your clit if he didn't hear what he wanted to.

"No not a slut--fuckk please keep fucking me."

"Mmmmh see, princess that was a lie. Do you think a good girl's cunt would be this fucking nasty?" Without warning, he pulled out entirely, leaving your hole to clench around nothing as he placed a harsh slap onto your cunt. You screamed out at the sensation, quickly trying to force your legs closed, but it was no use, as Rafayel forced your thighs apart with one of his own.

"Don't try to run now. You wanted this remember. You were the one using this dirty fucking mouth to beg me earlier, 'pleaseee daddy, just touch me.' I'm touching you now, aren't I baby? What do we say when someone gives us a gift?."

"Thank you thank you..." Another hard smack landed on your clit, forcing a shriek out of your mouth.

"I said thank you!" You protested at the unwarranted punishment only to be met with another harsh spank.

"I heard you." He did, but that didn't mean he was going to stop. The way your cunt was soaking his fingers and the way little gasps left your lips each time he slapped your swollen clit was far too entertaining. It was only a matter of time before your struggled screeches turned into moans, your hips gently grinding back against his palm at every point of contact.

"Please..."

"Please what? What do you want, baby, hm? Come on use your big girl words."

"Please, can I cum?" He couldn't help but to laugh at the pathetic request.

"Be more specific. What do you want me to keep doing, huh? What is it exactly that's about to make you cum all over my fucking hand?"

"Please keep slapping my cunt, daddy." There it was... he had you right where he wanted you--gasping and writhing beneath his touch, making a little puddle of drool on the sheets, begging him to do something so degrading to you. He had won and Rafayel was anything but a humble champion.

"Aww of course I will, pretty girl. Go ahead and cum for me. Fuckkkk that's it. This pussy is so fucking sloppy for my fingers, come on. Give it to me, angel--it's mine...Shittt what a creamy mess." A few more smacks and you were cumming, tits smushed against the mattress, back arched, ass pressed back into Rafayel's fingers as incoherent little mumbles left your mouth. Much to his surprise though, you weren't just cumming from him slapping your clit--you were squirting. A stream of wetness covered your thighs and his torso, his eyes widened at the sight as he continued forcing his palm down against your flesh.

"Fuckkk you are sick. Making a puddle like this all over me--you tryna mark your territory or something, baby?" Before you could answer you felt his length slam past your entrance once again, somehow stretching you more than before as you quivered and shook, your orgasm still coursing through your body.

"Wait wait please--fuck slow down..." It was no use, his palm was against your mouth once more, your juices covering his skin, the taste of your own wetness soaking your lips.

"Speaking privileges revoked, once again. If you're not gonna use your mouth to say something smart, then you should just be quiet all together, huh? You're sick, aren't you? You're a nasty slut--let daddy give you your medicine, baby. Let me make you a good girl again." His grip on your face forced your back to arch even more than before, pulling you up from the mattress, your back against his chest. It wasn't until now that he saw your face, eyes low, hair glued to your forehead with sweat, your neck glistening from the spit that had dripped down past your lips--but it was the tears that he liked the most, the way your little wet eyelashes looked, the pouty pleading gaze... he could've came right then.

"Fuck...can I tell you something, sweet girl?" All you could do was sob and moan out against his palm.

"You're pretty when you cry." he whispered, placing the softest kiss to your wet cheek. "Make another mess for me, will you? I wanna see this pussy cry again too, angel."

a/n: okayyyy sorry for being MIA. full transparency, i started taking antidepressants a few weeks ago and they make me have like NO sex drive at all. until today i randomly thought about fucking rafayel, so i decided to fill one of my asks. anywayyyy hope you enjoy, specifically the person that asked for this. have a good day, lovelies xx

[moopsoup]

rafayel who starts off all innocent, arms wrapped around you, his body warm against yours. but you can feel it. his cock. pressed up against your ass, hard and throbbing, twitching every time you shift even a little.

“you’re hard.” your voice is a quiet whisper, teasing but acknowledging the obvious.

rafayel lets out a breathy chuckle, pressing a soft kiss against the back of your neck. “yeah? who’s fault do you think that is, cutie?” his hands are resting on your waist, thumbs rubbing lazily under the hem of your shirt. “just… let me feel you. just for a second, yeah?”

before you can even respond he’s already pushing your panties to the side, not even bothering to pull them down. the blunt tip of his cock nudges at your entrance, and he groans low when he feels how warm and wet you are.

“just the tip,” he murmurs in a promising tone, pushing in just enough to stretch you open.

and at first, that’s really all it is. just the tip. just barely inside. not even fully sinking in. but very slowly he shifts a little closer, grinding against you, sliding in just another inch. then another…..and another. slow teasing and thrusts just barely moving but still pressing deeper, pushing in inch by inch.

it’s only when you finally realize how full you feel that your breath catches. “rafayel… you said just the tip.”

he hums as if pretending like he’s considering your words but the way his hips roll against you says otherwise. “mm, i did, didn’t i?” his voice is smooth, almost smug. “guess i got a little carried away.”

[crimsonsoughtrainbutterfly]

Rafayel is the magic you've lost, the heart of creation that has worn away, and yet still continues with every breath you take.

Sylus is the quiet strength you've felt only a handful of times to achieve your goals, the burst of power in determination.

Caleb is the warm summer nights of being at home, listening to the trees rustle in a gentle wind where everything was soft and warm and you were safe.

Zayne is the rationality that helps you get through tough situations and allows you to take it easy on yourself, to treat yourself with kindness and gentleness even in your darkest moments.

Xavier is the soft blankets of a lazy morning, where you were able to feel completely relaxed, for once your mind still and the world a little sweeter.

[peachylynnie]

when you have a crush on a fictional character

word count: 200-300 per lead contains: lads men x reader, established relationship, headcanons on crack, jealousy (they have beef with a fictional character), some plushies were harmed in the making of this post, lots of manga spoilers, cursing, violence, and links to images/videos (so you know what the characters look like) a/n: i had so much fun making this. it's ironic too since THEY'RE fictional. listen, it was either this or ur kpop bias (im missing taehyung like a mf). again, bc these are headcanons, i'm not saying i'm right. reblogs and comments are always appreciated! tagged: @vvintqz (another xavier headcanon) lads masterlist

xavier

gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen (manga spoilers below)

thought you would enjoy the series since the two of you watch a lot of anime together

but now he regrets suggesting it.

he regrets mentioning the manga too

since the damned character wears a fucking compression shirt in the manga

he swears if he hears the words "my glorious blue eyed king" leave your mouth one more time

he's going to slice your gojo plushie into a million pieces with his sword (he thinks shoving it under the bed is already too much of a mercy)

why are there so many "no lube, no protection" comments under every gojo instagram post?

why are you liking every single one of them?! (you like them bc it's funny, but he is NOT amused)

will glare at you so hard if you ask him to cosplay

would honestly rather cosplay lumiere

this man is scowling whenever gojo appears on the screen

arms crossed, lips pouted, hand reaching for the sword type shit

turned off the TV when that one breathing scene came on (i had to link it)

jumped for joy when he died though lmao

never has he ever been so happy to see a literal body cut in half

you're just sitting there mortified while he's all sunshine and rainbows

he wants to find the author and give him a big hug

xavier 🤝 gege #1 gojo haters

zayne

sakusa kiyoomi from haikyuu (manga spoilers below)

he honestly doesn't know how to react at first

a volleyball player who acts like a jerk, has less than TWO minutes of screentime, and wears NEON attire? (he respects his obsession with hygiene though)

actually questions you at one point

"is that your type?" "do you want me to be like that?" "are you into volleyball players?"

you have to explain it's not like that at all, you just think he's cool

that assures him a bit

but when you start reading the manga

his worries return ten-fold

not only because the character appears more

but because the character doesn't wear neon anymore and has compression sleeves (that's HIS thing)

frowns when he looms over your shoulder

and sees you screenshot EVERY PANEL he appears in (is this a thing or am i the only one)

gets so confused as to why you're referring to the character as omi whenever you call your friend who's an atsumu girlie (i'm an osamu girlie)

he's half grateful the msby black jackals (he begrudgingly learned the team name from you) haven't been animated yet

his face is priceless when he walks into the shared bedroom

and sees a sakusa plushie there

wants to freeze it with his evol

instead he just awkwardly picks it up and makes it face the wall (he doesn't want to see you upset)

rafayel

brant from wuthering waves

"YOU LIKE A PIRATE WHEN THERE'S A WHOLE MERMAN RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU?!"

he's so sulky and petty about it

bashes the character whenever he has the chance

"he's a pirate, i bet he smells bad."

"ew, why does he talk like that?"

"he can summon a giant anchor? big deal. i can summon an entire ocean."

you find this situation really funny

since the whole reason you like brant in the first place is BECAUSE he reminds you of rafayel

it's the theatrical mannerisms and flashy outfits (the sea too)

but you don't tell him that (he'll probably act more offended anyway)

whenever he catches you playing the game

he sighs dramatically and falls on the couch

head on your lap and trying to distract you from the game

"replaced by a stinky pirate, how could this be?"

"can't believe you're playing a game when there's a hot, rideable fishie right in front of you"

he's flabbergasted when you reach for your wallet

"wait, IT'S A GACHA GAME?!"

cue him running around with your wallet and you chasing after him

"no way, cutie. last time you spent like fifty dollars on identity v for some skin."

when you try to correct him that it was for a danganronpa collab (and that it was less than fifty dollars)

he snatches your phone

now he's running with both your wallet and your phone in hand

sylus

yomi from gokurakugai (manga spoilers below)

listen

you started the manga because the character LOOKS LIKE him (just hair down)

he has silver hair, red eyes, and composed mannerisms

literally when you see the panel of him appearing with a jacket hanging from his shoulders along with some slacks shoes

you have to sigh because

you are NOT beating the allegations

the "i have a type" allegations

sylus is honestly amused

see he would actually READ the manga

not even online

he would buy physical copies of it

and have it in your bookshelf

since he knows how much you HATE the pop-up ads on the website you use to read

also because he wants to see what you're so excited about

so imagine your face when you walk into your shared bedroom

and see your boyfriend in all of his gorgeous glory

wearing his signature bathrobe

a wine glass in one hand and...

THE MANGA IN ANOTHER?!

THE ONE WHERE YOMI IS ON THE COVER TOO?!

he chuckles at your dumbfounded expression before standing up and walking towards you (the manga's still in his hand btw)

"what's wrong, sweetie? i thought you liked this series, given how much you've searched for this character on pinterest."

you gulp when he pins his hand on the wall

"would you like me to wear my hair down?"

caleb

chrollo lucilfer from hunter x hunter (manga spoilers below)

see the other guys are...relatively grateful these characters are fictional

this guy actually WISHES this bastard of a character was real

why?

so he can plummet him into the ground

because why are you squealing every time this pale, grown ass man with a tattoo on his forehead and an open fur coat appears on the screen???

here's the thing

caleb was excited to start this show with you since he heard it's good

and it is!

he loves the nen system, has a soft spot for killua, and would honestly kill for gon

but now, whenever you suggest watching the show, he's grumbling and insisting you guys watch something else

he would rather die than tell you this

but one time

he slicked his hair back in front of the mirror to see if he looks like him (oh the aura loss)

he also read the manga

but only to see how often chrollo appears so he can be prepared

was excited for the hisoka vs. chrollo fight (since he's hoping the latter dies)

actually enjoyed it too since both characters used their abilities so creatively

threw his phone when hisoka lost

and punched your chrollo plushie with his metal arm

you made him buy you another one

a/n: not me exposing all of my fictional crushes. here are some other characters i considered: seba natsuki, kei uzuki (sakamoto days), levi ackerman (aot), phainon (hsr), yoru (gokurakugai), beom tae ha (tears on a withered flower), theo lapileon (my in laws are obsessed with me), shinso hitoshi, dabi (bnha), choso kamo (jjk) (my beloved), and reigen arataka (mp 100) (solely for shits and giggles).

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Private lessons

Masterlist Word count: 5.6k Prof!Rafayel x Student!Reader

Summary: Rafayel is your fine arts teacher. You were absent from some classes because you caught the flu and now you're standing in front of his office door, hand raised to knock at the door, but something is stopping you. Maybe it's the way he's been looking at you lately, but either way you need to catch up.

Author's note: I've been stalling to finish this. It ends a bit abruptly because I just ran out of inspiration and otherwise I would've thrown this in the drafts never to be seen again. I hope ya'll like it! Special thanks to @butlereyepatchbunny for proofreading!

Smut, Rafayel trying to be dominant, reader ending up being dominant, weird power dynamic, nude painting, jealousy, emotional manipulation, begging, short talk about vasectomies and STI's, raw sex (wrap it up guys).

Mature content under the cut

"Come in," Professor Rafayel bellows through the door. He sounds annoyed and frustrated. In truth, that doesn't really irk you. An artistic person like him would probably despise office hours. You've heard rumors of him trying to convince the art department director to let him have his office hours in his studio, but he was met with a resounding no.

It makes sense, but people love working in professor Rafayel's studio when they can and professor Rafayel loves bouncing ideas off his students. Seems a perfect solution to keep a stubborn professor happy, but the director doesn't think so.

For a second you almost forget that you have to open the door. That you now have to face your professor. The professor that you've been trying to avoid for days now. It might've been easier if he hadn't greeted you like he did when you finally felt good enough to attend classes again last week.

Professor Rafayel's art lectures are never early in the day, which is a godsend on a day like today. Sure, your head is still pounding from the pressure of the cold you are recovering from, but that's nothing some ibuprofen and paracetamol can't fix.

With Rafayel's lecture only starting at 1:30 pm, you've got enough time to medicate yourself and eat something before heading over there. However, now that you're sitting here trying to focus on the lecture, you feel your mind slipping away. Maybe you should've taken another day off to make sure you were fine.

As professor Rafayel always does, he gives a short assignment to do in class and roams around the room to give pointers. Usually it is something like "We've just discussed this type of art, find some or draw some to show that you understand what makes that type of art that type of art." It's often near the end of class time and some people skip out on it because professor Rafayel really couldn't care less as long as the grades are good.

And, you usually, you stay like the good little student you are and do the assignment. You even often stay after class to discuss it with professor Rafayel if he has time. Now, however, you feel like shit and you're packing up.

That is, until two hands appear on either sides of your desk, caging you in. A soft, sultry voice whispers next to your ear, forcing shivers down your spine: "First you don't show up for days and now you're leaving early? Did I do something?"

There's emotion behind his words, so much of it. You figured he might've noticed your absence, but this seems a bit extreme. "I had the flu," you mutter, cheeks burning, "I'm still not doing great."

"Why didn't you email me? I could've sent you the class notes," he whispers, but there's something more in there. Something possessive. You feel your body shudder ever so slightly as he leans a little closer and you feel his body brushing against you.

Then he suddenly switches up, his hands pulling away from your desk. He repositions himself to sit on the desk next to yours, arms crossed, with an aloof expression on his face. "Well, since you clearly don't feel well yet, you should stay home tomorrow as well. It's nearly the weekend anyway. How about you come by at my office hours on Monday? We'll discuss how to get you back up to speed."

'Oh, it's you,' professor Rafayel hums as he watches you slip into his office, 'how are you doing now?'

You can't say you're not surprised by his casual question and the very normal atmosphere in his office after what he did last Thursday. For a second, you consider you might've been lucid dreaming with the fever you had. However, that wouldn't be probable. You're pretty sure you felt his body press against yours. The memory of it almost makes you blush. 'I'm alright. Much better than last week.'

'Good,' he answers, not even paying attention to you, 'so besides missing lectures, I noticed you have not submitted anything of your physical work for review. Have you not been able to make anything during your sick leave?'

'I tried to, but I had so many coughing fits that I couldn't focus and my head was pounding.' You're not sure why you're over-explaining. Does he make you more nervous now that he's not being overly interested in you? Is that it? This is strange. Before last week, the two of you had a very equal relationship when it came to discussing art. 'I just wasn't able to.'

He nods, leaning back in his chair. Suddenly, he seems much more interested. He crosses his arms and you notice the slightest twitch of a smirk pull on the corners of his lips. His eyes are dark and intriguing. 'My, my, what should we do about that? We wouldn't want you to fall behind,' he taunts you, playing into your fear of failure.

He knows exactly what he's doing as you feel tears start to burn in your eyes. You know he knows. How many times have you discussed your works and the meaning and feelings behind them? How many times have you overshared and told him about your family? Yes, Rafayel knows exactly what he's doing. He's trying to push you off balance, trying to get on top, be the dominant one.

'I might have an offer you'd be interested in,' he mentions with a sly look. You saw how he was watching you get closer and closer to tears. He's been planning this. He's playing with his food. It makes something grow inside you. Something red. Something burning. 'Two of my classes merged and now I've got a few free hours after 4 pm until the end of the semester. I'd be open to some one-on-one sessions.'

The way he makes it sound like he's doing you a favor, like he doesn't want to spend time with you but he'll do it, makes you flush with a strange kind of rage. Here you are, sitting in his office at his request. He has the gall to assume you won't be able to catch up and implies so to play with your feelings. All of that, after countless times of calling you talented, just to get some time alone with you? Unless it's all just a game to him.

Insane.

You might be horny for this man, just like every other student in your class, but you won't be degraded like this. 'No thank you, I think I'll be fine,' you answer as you get up. He looks physically surprised by your words, his whole suave façade drops.

Just as he wants to get up, you put your hands on his desk and lean towards him a little. The way he looks up at you does something for you. His eyes wide, surprised, but very much still paying attention. Almost enjoying the power imbalance you introduce, but you can't be sure. It could just be surprise. 'I am going to be very blunt here, professor, and forgive me if I misunderstood. But if you wanted to spend more time with me, you could've just asked instead of playing with my feelings.'

"Inspiration is a fickle mistress and she does not like her hand forced." You learned that from professor Rafayel and no words ring truer than those right now.

Ever since you left his office last Monday, your mind has been all over the place trying to piece together why your professor behaved that way. Because that's what he is, your professor. He's not a random boy on campus who is trying to get in your pants, he is your teacher. Someone who should behave more dignified than Rafayel has.

It's not like you would mind if he were just a random boy, but that's the whole problem. This whole thing, if it is what you think it is, opens the door to so many potential problems... But it is intriguing and it has been building for a while.

Slowly, but surely, certain occurrences came back to you. However, there are no words in the English language that could rationalize those moments, no matter how hard you try. You can try all you want, but your loins are on fire.

That's when you realized, it started on day one. The first fucking time you saw him. You were so daft, so stupid to not see it. He has been chasing you for almost three years now.

It was subtle. Very. As he should be in his position. He was playing a long con and you're not quite sure if he is aware of it or if he's just letting his emotions run free. He has gone off on rants about free love and similar topics more than once when someone implied something sexist. Rafayel is not shy about sex and sexuality, and you kind of liked that about him as your art is often sexually charged. You like sex and sexuality and the vulnerability that it often comes with.

But now you can't even put your brush against the canvas without your paintings starting to look like him. You've tried to force it, only to abandon those works within minutes because it just didn't feel good. If it did start to feel good, the painting would start to look like him again.

A deep sigh slips from your lips as you drop your arms, defeated. You stare at the portrait you painted. It's not nearly done, but it's his eyes staring back at you, boring into your soul. You've got to do something about this. Either confront him or fuck him, those seem the only feasible options.

You tilt your head to look at the clock in your apartment. 4:30 pm... Would he still be in his studio?

The sliding door to the studio seems much heavier today, but the sight it reveals is truly an artwork on its own.

Rafayel's studio has large windows and tons of greenery outside. Now, around golden hour, strings of yellow and orange light illuminate the space, only interrupted by dust particles floating around. The light perfectly surrounds Rafayel as he sits in the middle of his studio with a canvas on a small, portable easel as he works. Sunlight kisses his skin, almost making it look like there's an outline of gold around him.

'Took you long enough,' he huffs, not looking up at you but provoking you to step inside. And you do, closing the sliding door behind you. 'Lock it.'

'What?'

'Lock it.'

'Why?'

'Lock it or leave, those are your options,' his tone is commanding, nothing like you've ever heard from him before. You feel that same red-hot rage you felt on Monday, it's something defiant inside you, but you know you need to talk to him. If you don't, you might be doomed to paint him until you die.

'Tell me why or I'm switching to professor Thomas' art history class.' Rafayel's jaw clenches. You don't know why the man has such a hatred for Thomas. As far as you know, they get along fine but whenever you drop his name they are suddenly enemies. Could it be that Rafayel is jealous? Or maybe just possessive?

'You know why,' he hints, his eyes flickering up at you. Something sinister is in them, something dark, something sexual. Yes, you know what is happening here today if you let it but you want him to say it. You turn around and put your hand on the door again. You hear something clatter to the floor and suddenly you see Rafayel's hand holding the door closed, his body pressing against you as his other hand gently takes its place on your hip. 'Don't make me say it.'

You turn around to face him: 'Professor Rafayel, you and I both know this is highly inappropriate.' He searches your eyes for any inkling that you do not want this, that you want him to stop, that he got it all wrong. The despair in his face, the strange power dynamic, it turns you on so fucking much.

A cruel plan forms in your mind. Rafayel wants you and you've got five sessions with him until the end of the semester, including today. Five sessions to make him bend, five sessions to drive him to madness, five sessions to make him beg. 'I'm here for extra lessons. What are you here for,' you question innocently as you press your hand against his chest, ever so gently pushing him off. His hand grips your hip tighter, pulling himself closer with a defiant look in his eyes.

'What are you doing,' he grumbles, his annoyance easy to read in his eyes. He seems ready to devour you whole if you would just say yes to him. If you would just agree to this.

'I'm being a good student,' you claim as your hand slides down to his stomach slowly and his eyes widen, 'my professor told me he'd help me catch up.'

Finally, he catches on. He lets go of you and walks back over to his easel. The thing is knocked over and probably what you heard when you tried to head out again. For just a second you get a glimpse of his painting. It is unmistakably you. Not all of you. It's your face leaning on the palm of your hand, but it doesn't go higher than your lips.

'Alright, let's get started,' he grumbles, annoyed. You sit down on the floor across from him and take out your sketchpad. 'You missed a model painting class and a portrait class.'

'So, shall I just ask my roommate to sit for me,' you ask him, recalling he despises your roommate as much as he does Thomas. Why? You live off campus and so your roommate is an old friend. A male friend. Let the games begin! His face instantly turns into a scowl, but his answer takes a second and when he does answer, he looks at you strangely.

'No, I'll sit for you.'

Painting Rafayel's portrait is easy. His face is already burned into your memories, but it's nice to study the small details of his face. Being that up-close and personal with him has been... an experience the say the very least. Unsurprisingly, by session 3 you've got a picture perfect copy of his face in oil paint.

Throughout the sessions, his praise didn't go unnoticed by you. Meanwhile, he was also painting you, claiming it to be good practice for him because you've got a unique bone structure. However, whenever you snuck a glance at his painting, it was never just your face.

Session 1, he continued that painting of your lips while the two of you sat across from each other, cross-legged, knees nearly touching.

Session 2, you had put on a short skirt to tease him and sat down across from him cross-legged again. The skirt barely touched the floor in the back. He had walked around you quite a few times to "comment on your work" but when you glanced at his painting, he had painted you from the side. That included how your skirt barely covered your butt. It was surprisingly suggestive. Sure, that was the intent but he somehow made it so much more lewd. Like you were looking at yourself through his eyes.

Session 3, it was the first truly scorching day of the year. You put on a long, flowy skirt, and the tiniest top/sports bra that you could get away with wearing on the campus. He managed to perfectly remember how you looked when you walked in and lifted your skirt a bit to check if the buckle on your sandals had gotten loose. It looked strangely angelic, even if you tried to portray something more sexual. Sure, he hiked up your skirt a little more in the painting to the part where your leg meets your hip. Yet it still looked very innocent. Almost as if you were a voyeur, as if you weren't meant to see this.

One thing that irked you though, Rafayel would not tell you what kind of model painting you missed out on. You would've asked your classmates, but after the initial model painting most of them preferred to work alone to finish the paintings. Understandable, you would've done the same if you were in their shoes.

Today is session 4 and it is still scorching hot. Not ideal weather to seduce your professor in. You opted to wear some linen pants and a loose-fitting cropped shirt. Nothing all that sexy but with temperatures like these, all you want to do is sit naked in front of the aircon.

However, you are excited. The last few sessions you have manged to get Rafayel so worked up that you left him sitting in the studio with a tent in his pants last time. That honestly made you feel great. It made you feel desired and beautiful. A temptress. As you walk through the school, you wonder how far you can push him this time.

When you turn the corner to head to the studio, stirring with anticipation, you see Rafayel waiting for you in front of the studio. Your feet hesitate for a second when he looks your way. Something's different today. There's something in his eyes and his cheeks are flushed. For a second you want to turn around and leave, but then he waves for you to come closer and you do. Your feet carry you to him.

Rafayel answers your questions before you can ask any, 'We're heading into one of the smaller studios today.' A flicker of electricity pulses through you. You look down. Rafayel took your hand in his and is pulling you along. He's excited, surprisingly so. Does he know you put a few condoms in your bag today because you feel like he grovelled enough?

Soon you're walking through parts of the fine arts wing that you don't even know. It's quieter here, more secluded, more private. There's dust on the windowsills so you don't question that this part of the wing isn't used often.

And suddenly you're standing in a very tiny studio, no bigger than a dorm room. Despite its size, the room is lit beautifully. There's a window high up on the wall. High enough that you can just look outside if you stand on your tiptoes. It creates a spotlight of natural light cascading down on the stool that stands in the middle of the room. The walls are a velvety shade of dark blue, almost as if they would feel soft to the touch.

One easel and another stool are already set up with a canvas. It's in the perfect spot for the lighting and you figure Rafayel set it up himself. Against the wall are two large storage shelving units that hold costly and rare paints and other mediums. Ones that you would have to give up food for to afford. Something tells you this is Rafayel's private stash.

'I've never been in this part of the art wing before,' you mumble as you look around the small room. Before you can turn towards Rafayel, you hear a distinct click of the lock being turned. By now, that doesn't disturb you anymore. The door has been locked for every session before this and you figure it might have something to do with Rafayel's impulsivity if you ever give him the slightest idea that something might happen.

'These used to be senior studios, but most seniors prefer to work at home these days,' Rafayel explains, 'most teachers in the art wing have claimed one. This one is mine.' You were right.

'You have two studios? Isn't that a bit excessive?' You turn towards the stool again, wondering how you can best post Rafayel to make him look as angelic as he is.

'Not for moments like these.'

You turn back to him and the whole world falls away. In front of you stands Rafayel, your art teacher, your mentor, the most beautiful man you've ever seen, without a shirt. His shoes are kicked in the corner, socks somewhere on the ground, as he works on the draw string of his creme linen pants.

His eyes meet yours, the hesitation reflected in them as vivid as the rare colours on his storage shelves. You can tell there's a little fear in his eyes at your hesitation. Fear that he read this all wrong, that he's going to fast, that you were just playing around.

'You could've told me I missed a nude painting class,' you manage to utter as you awe at his body. Whichever God he prays to has to like him very much to have granted him that body with that face. It almost seems like a crime. A man like that must have flaws, right?

'Where is the fun in that,' he teases as he pulls the drawstring. He lets go and the pants slide off his body, revealing that he's not wearing anything underneath. For a second, just a second, you want to jump him. Have your hands roaming his body as your eyes are, but your jaw is on the floor and your body is frozen in place.

Meanwhile, Rafayel smirks at you and takes his spot on the stool in the middle of the room. He looks extremely smug and proud. You guess a man like that wouldn't really be insecure about himself. He looks sculpted by the gods, from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. And, God you'd never imagine you'd be thinking this, this man has a beautiful penis. Your mind is already dreaming up what he would look like hard, with that pretty pink tip of his leaking precum.

'How do you want me,' he asks, eyebrow quirking up at the unintentionally suggestive question. Or maybe it is intentional. All this time you thought you were holding all the power, but he is stripped down in front of you and somehow has more control over the situation than you do.

"Focus," you shout in your mind and mentally hit the dirty thoughts out of yourself. But professionalism be damned, you just want to stare at this beautiful man all day. "If only you'd be in a position to capture this very moment right here, now get your mind out of the gutter and paint this beautiful man!"

'Put your foot up a little, yes, beautiful, and turn your shoulders towards me a bit,' you start to direct him. He poses beautifully and you don't doubt he's done this before. He's probably done this so often it is second nature to him. Right? Curiosity gnaws at you as you pick up your charcoal to make a rough sketch. 'Have you modelled for students before?'

'Yes, once.'

'Only once?' He nods. 'Stay still,' you quickly say. He huffs a laugh.

'See,' he offers the moment as proof, 'only once. I was a starving artist and needed money to pay my rent. I saw an advert in the paper and replied. Some of the teachers here recognized me from some magazine interview and the rest is history.'

'That's how you got here? I thought you were a spoiled protege,' you murmur, more to yourself than to him as your rough charcoal outline starts to take shape on the paper.

'Most people think that.' The mood sours and as much as you want to know his whole life story, you are not in a mindset to be appropriate about this right now. You wish you could be, but he doesn't really seem to want to talk about it more either.

'You could've made a killing as a model,' you note, as you start to go in with deeper blacks for the shadows.

'I was gonna say the same about you, cutie,' he teases. You're pulled out of your focus. Cutie? No one has ever called you that before. You've never considered yourself that before.

'Cutie?' He just winks at you. A flush spreads on your cheeks as you try to get back to the work at hand. Rafayel's eyes are glued on you as you take out your eraser to put in some shadows. A long silence falls between the two of you. You wish you could give the silence a name, call it awkward or weird but that's not it. Discomfort is not what you feel, though you wish you would. Instead you just feel an increasing fire building in your chest.

And Rafayel notices.

'You know, it's awfully hot in here. I can't image you're comfortable in all those clothes.' A wicked grin plays on his lips. He tries to hide it but he can't. Not now that he's so close to getting what he wants. You can't blame the guy for trying.

With a pretend exasperated sigh, you pull your top over your head and throw it at him. He catches it with ease, 'Rude,' he huffs, but he is taking a good long look at your newly exposed skin.

And then you see something twitch between his legs. Now you've got two options and one is clearly better than the other.

Option 1, you fuck him right here right now.

Option 2, you fuck him next session. Why next session? It is quite literally the last class of the year. If things get awkward, you won't have to face him until next fall. And if things go right, you've got a whole summer to enjoy them. Plus, more teasing.

You would've picked option two any day. It seems so much more fun. If only it weren't for the fact that you are absolutely feral right now. Suddenly, your shoes are kicked off and joined with Rafayel's in a corner, and your pants are in a pool at your feet as you sit back down on your stool.

For probably the first time in his life, Rafayel is quietly watching. The way he looks at you truly surprises you. All these weeks you've been trying to make sure you look like a sexual object to make sure he understands that this is just sex. Instead, he looks at you like you're a masterpiece. Like every stretch mark, every mole, every dip, every discolouration, every scar, every mark is perfect. All your imperfections, so perfect in his eyes. It makes you feel a little shy until you see something poking up from between his legs.

'You're right. This is much better,' you agree with his previous statement, trying to sound aloof like he usually does after some devious act. He's in absolute awe, looking frozen by your beauty. Rafayel's lips move but, even in the quiet room, you can't hear a single word he's saying. 'What was that?'

'You should finish your drawing.'

'I've lost my focus,' you retort as your hands travel to the edge of your sports bra. Rafayel's eyes are trained on your fingers as you start lifting up the fabric.

'We should do something about that.'

'Like what?' You pull your bra over your head with one swift movement and throw it at him like you had your shirt. That seems enough of an invitation for him. The wicked grin he wore just a minute ago reappears as he gets up from his stool and stalks over to you.

'I have a few things in mind.'

Then, his lips are on yours. Hungry, deprived, messy. Teeth clank against each other as tongues try to discover as much as they can in as little time as possible. Mere seconds pass before you're both breathless and he pulls away to look at you. A string of saliva connects you as both of you scan each other's eyes. Looking for regret, for a reason to stop or keep going.

'Well,' you coax. He breathes out a laugh and starts trailing kisses down your neck. At your collarbones, he leaves a few love bites and moves further down until he's on his knees between your legs, big eyes looking up at you.

Just as you try to hook your fingers on your underwear to pull it down, Rafayel captures both of your wrists and holds them in one hand. His eyes bore into yours expectantly and when you give the slightest nod, he dives right in licking a thick stripe over top of your underwear. You groan and want to reach out for his hair, but your wrists are still captured.

With his free hand, he pulls your panties to the side. 'That's beautiful, make that sound for me again,' he begs before diving in again. It's not surprising that he's incredibly skilled, tethering you to the edge within seconds. But that could also be all the edging you put yourself through in preparation for this day.

'Raf, please, I-'

'You're gonna come already, pretty girl?' His voice is like a purr as he lets go of your wrists to grab your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the stool. Your hand instantly slides into his hair, grabbing a good fist full to ground yourself. 'Give me everything.' It's embarrassing how hard and fast you cum. Truly, you feel like a two-pump chump and you don't even have a dick to pump.

'Shit, Raf, oh my god,' you moan out as he removes his mouth from you. He looks up at you and when you look down at him, he presses a soft kiss to your clit, sending electricity through your body. It's absolutely lewd and dirty. 'If you don't fuck me right now, I will scream.'

Rafayel chuckles as he stands up, pressing kisses to your skin as he rises, 'I thought this was all about you being in control.' His voice makes you shiver. So he did know what you were doing and was playing along.

'I thought so too, but we'll have more than enough time to explore that some other time,' you groan as he latches his lips onto your neck, kissing and biting your sensitive skin, 'I've got condoms in my bag.'

'Don't need 'em,' Rafayel hums in your ear, his hands on your hips, kneading your skin. His thick length rubbing against your stomach, spreading beads of precum on your skin.

'Unless you had a vasectomy and are clean, we do need them,' you argue between moans whilst your hands explore his chest, dipping down every once in a while to tease his v-line.

'Yes, to both of those,' he clarifies, 'but it's your choice.'

For a second, just a second, your hands still and you seriously consider the pros and cons for as far as your fried mind lets you. Rafayel looks down at you with a smirk, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. The whole action is so sweet, so tender, that it completely shuts your brain off. 'Fuck it,' you sigh and pull him closer.

His hands slip under your thighs, picking you up from the stool like you weigh no more than a tube of oil paint. With a swift turn, he presses you up against the wall, lips attacking yours violently. Your bottom lip slips between his teeth as he bites down "gently." The hunger in his kisses makes you think he's close to dying. His hands are everywhere on your body, overwhelming your senses.

His hand moves between your bodies and guides his dick inside you. At first only the head, and then everything all at once. Your fingers dig into his back as you curse his ancestors for giving him all the good genes. 'Shit, you're taking me so well,' he groans, head dipping to your neck to leave another bruising kiss there.

He sets a gruelling pace, stealing all the air out of your lungs as you gasp and whimper. Rafayel's hand is still between your bodies, teasing your clit with his thumb whilst holding you up with one arm. Your back hurts, moving against the wall. Sadly, the velvety paint doesn't take away the sandpaper-like texture of the walls.

'Raf, ah, the wall,' you whine, 'it hurts.' Truly, you don't want him to move. The orgasm approaching you doesn't want you in any other position than the one you are in right now.

'I know baby, just a little longer,' he groans, biting down on your skin once more. He keeps pounding into you relentlessly while you try to stay still to minimize the impact, but your brain is fried and a slut for pleasure. With his hands on your clit and his cock rubbing inside your gummy walls, you can feel yourself lose control.

'Raf, I'm-' He shushes you gently. 'I know, I know, let go baby. Come on,' he beckons, keeping his fingers and hips moving at a steady pace. Your walls flutter at his words. 'There you go, give it to me.'

'Shit, Raf, cu-cumming,' you stutter as his teeth sink into your skin again. His hips falter as he snaps them up inside you and keeps them there. You feel his hot cum coat you from the inside as your walls start to spasm, your nails digging into his back roughly, legs pulling him impossibly close.

His hips snap against you a few more times. Sloppy, uncoordinated, passionate. Your brain is a mess and so are you. In truth, you could go again. But as your breathing steadies and the fog in your brain clears up, you suddenly realised you just fucked your professor in the school.

'This is so wrong,' you mumble with a laugh. Rafayel's teeth let go of your skin and he looks down at you as he puts lets you down. You feel like Bambi, the way your legs are shaking.

'What is?'

You gesture around you vaguely, 'All of this.'

LADS general taglist

@brekkers-whore

@mcdepressed290

@fvcknwww

@pozuki

@butlereyepatchbunny

[poisonf0rest]

it's missing raf hours here 😔

♱⋅── angst. just rafayel completely breaking down the first time you tell him you love him (aka the fifty-third time he hears those words from you for the first time, and the fifty-third time he's asked you to marry him)

The first time you tell Rafayel, he doesn’t believe you.

“Do you really mean it?”

His voice cracks, just a little, and when he looks at you like that something aches deep inside your chest. He’s tense, almost frozen, and you realize he’s bracing himself, waiting for the wave to crash. Waiting to wake up alone again.

“Rafayel, my love, my silly fishie,” you coo, your voice soft and steady as you pull him closer, cupping his face ever so gently between your palms. “I love you.”

For a moment, he just stares up at you, a flicker of disbelief before his resolve shatters. A sob slips past his lips, broken and raw, and he’s leaning into your touch like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. He’s curling himself closer,  hands finding the curve of your hips like they were always meant to be there, clutching tightly as he almost falls into your embrace. Even then, his gaze never leaves yours, doe-eyed and pleading, as though he can’t quite believe this is real.

“I love your eyes,” you whisper, brushing your thumbs along his tear-streaked cheeks. “The way they hold all the depth of the ocean and all the love in the world.” You lean in, pressing a delicate kiss to each eyelid as they flutter shut under the warm caress of your touch.

“I love your nose,” you continue, your lips ghosting over his skin. “Even if it is prettier than mine.”

Rafayel laughs at that, something choked and almost breathless, his lips curving into a smile even as tears continue to fall. You pepper kisses around his nose bridge, a special, dramatic one at the very tip, and his laughter softens into a shaky sigh.

“I love the way you laugh,” you giggle back. “The way you smile.” You give him a chaste peck on the lips, pulling back just enough to see his face. He chases after your lips, a desperate, instinctual movement, and you give him a lopsided smile. “I love the way your voice sounds. I could listen to you talk for hours, you know that?”

“You already do.”

“Mhm,” you nod, already leaning back in for more. “I do.”

You barely finish the words “I do” before Rafayel closes the distance, his mouth crashing into yours. There’s no patience in his kiss, no restraint—just a deep, aching need. Like he’s terrified you’ll disappear between his fingers. You comfort him the only way you know how, letting him take as much as he wants, responding with equal fervor, your hands tangling into his hair as you pull him closer. 

Your tongue sweeps across his plush bottom lip before you nip it, tugging between your teeth, just enough to have him groan and let you in. Rafayel immediately pulls you up onto his thighs, close and closer still, and soon the slick, wet sounds of the kiss are covered only by your breathing and moans.

“I,” you begin between kisses, laughing when Rafayel groans in protest and drags you back to his mouth. “Also love,” another kiss. “Your— ah, Rafayel, let me finish.” You’re gasping out, half for the chance to talk and half simply for air, Rafayel kissing you like the need for breathing is secondary to his need for you. It might as well be, for him. 

His eyes are glazed and bleary with unshed tears when he finally pulls back, his lips swollen and red, his chest heaving. He looks at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful, like he’s scared to even blink. The sight of him, lovedrunk and adoring, has you smile like an idiot once again, your hand coming back up to cup his jaw, wiping at a tear falling from his right eye. 

“I love your heart, Rafayel,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair. “The way it never seems to have a limit on its love. The way you feel so wholly, so unashamedly, so fiercely.”

A broken sob escapes him, and he’s crumbling, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as his body shakes. You loop your arms around his neck, tracing gentle circles and hearts into his back, his ribs, holding him close as his tears soak through your shirt.

He cries like he’s finally letting go of centuries of grief, of lifetimes spent loving and losing you. You hold him through it all, pressing soft kisses to his temple, across his face all over again, whispering sweet promises as his tears flow freely.

When his voice finally stops shaking, Rafayel lifts his head, his eyes red and swollen, skin streaked with tears. Yet, beneath it all, buried beneath centuries of pain, there’s that same strength that’s made you fall for him in every lifetime. This strength to feel such pain, such loss, and still choose to hope. Still choose to love. 

Rafayel’s voice is hoarse, words trembling as he finally speaks again, saying,  “Marry me.” 

Your heart skips a beat. But Rafayel is already there to catch you, his hands shaking as they cradle your face, eyes searching yours like he’s waiting for the world to fall apart again. “Please... marry me.”

Again, there’s that pang in your chest. You lean in, brushing your lips against his in the softest, most tender kiss you’ve ever given him.

“Yes,” you promise. “Again and again, in every lifetime.”

Rafayel’s face crumples, and then he’s kissing you again, his tears mixing with yours as you lose yourself in his arms. And this time, when you say “I love you,” you feel the weight of every past life, every goodbye, every vow broken by time.

This time, you promise forever. And this time, Rafayel believes you.

♱⋅── Fun fact, I cried writing this and I cried re-reading this-- please don't perceive me. This was also written to Wiege by VIVINOS and Wildflower by Billie playing in the background on repeat, which only made it hurt so much more.

[love-and-deepspace-incorrect]

Rafayel: I don't like cats. But sometimes, I wish I was a cat, but not in a furry kinda way, more like a “I can sleep all day and hit people with no consequences” kinda way.

[aikkyuu]

Xavier is as fast as light

he may appear laid back, harmless and “tired” most of the time—but u have to understand he’s very attentive and quick on his feet, particularly when it comes to defending or protecting MC

so imagine Jeremiah getting too comfortable with you, and playfully says “fuck off..”

before you can respond, Xavier’s much quicker to bark back “watch it”, now fully awake.

In which Jeremiah would raise his hands in defeat “sorry, forgot he’s here—don’t fuck off then”

[hyperfixationhobo]

Zayne: “I’m not mad, just extremely disappointed in you guys.”

MC: “…”

Sylus: “…”

Xavier: “…”

Rafayel: “…”

Caleb: “…”

Sylus: “…can you please be mad?”

[lads-ficrecs]

New author added!

Author List ────୨ৎ────

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. Here's a list of authors who create some truly stunning fics. Just because someone isn't on this list doesn't mean their writing is bad. These are simply the authors I've discovered while searching for my daily fix of fanfiction. I'll keep updating the post!

For more information, see the Pinned Post here!

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @poisonf0rest 

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @comatosebunny09

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @moongirlcleo

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @thalwri

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @mandalhoerian

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @aeyumicore

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @h3avenlyth0ughts

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @abyssyby

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @shaisuki

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @pearlymel 

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @chuluoyi 

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @starmocha

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @aomiiine 

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @madamechrissy

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @catbolt

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @mythblossoms 

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @ughbrie

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @peachylynnie

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @kisstrela

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @mephisto-reporting

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @plutotheplum

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @navydoves

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @whosashan

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @bloodnight-blaze

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @cutiefulism

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @humanjarvis

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @connorsui

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @luvcaleb

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @sylustful

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @lalunanymph

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @illou-sainte

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @saintobio

˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚. @rcvcgers

Credits for the divider goes to @omi-resources !

[sayangrafayel]

MC: You believe me?

Rafayel: MC, you’re the last good person on this planet. I‘d believe you if you said cartoon birds braided your hair this morning.

[yueichihara]

“Tonight, only I am allowed to share this bed with you.”

Okay guys, so... this is something that came up after reading Sylus' Magnum Opus, it's supposed to be a continuation. Please excuse any gramatical errors, english is not my first language, but to be honest, I'm just to anxious and lazy to ever edit these.

Have a blast.

f!mc x sylus | kisses | fluff | a little something maybe, nothing too explicit, though (i think) | undressing

You can feel your heart swelling up, the butterflies in your stomach have nowhere else to go and every part of your body is tingling now. You watch Sylus as he stares at you, his gaze unbearably filled with love. Before you know it, you’re tip-toeing to reach him. You put your arms around his neck and brush your lips against his. 

You no longer want him to leave. Actually, you never wanted him to. And probably, he was thinking the same thing because before you know it, his arms are around your waist pushing you inside again. His lips are on you, in a more tender kiss. 

He suddenly lets go and you’re left blinking, mourning the loss of his touch. He only stares at you, his gaze darker. He pushes the door with his foot and reaches out behind himself to grab the lock. 

“You’re being bad, kitten. I was ready to leave.” He says softly, his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

You know that if you tell him no, he will turn around, open the door and walk back out. Never questioning, always letting you decide if you want him. But you don’t. At this point, you need him. And maybe you always have. 

So you walk to him and put your hands on his chest, feeling his heart quicken. You move them to the back of his neck and pull him down. He complies.

“No, you were not.”

This kiss is hungrier, slower. You feel his hands on the small of your back before he moves them downwards, past your ass, and he bends down to grab your thighs and pull you up. 

“Where.” More an order than a question. You lock your ankles behind him and nuzzle against his neck.

“Bed.” You say before kissing his neck. A growl escapes him as he starts walking towards your bedroom.

He’s not sleeping on the floor tonight. 

You’re kissing again, your hands making a mess out of his hair. You’re grabbing and pulling, savoring the taste of his mouth. You can still smell the face cream on him. 

He puts you down in the middle of the bed, not breaking the kiss. He’s on top of you, lazily exploring your sides. He moves his hands to the edge of your jeans, drawing a line as he gets to the zipper. He pulls away and unzips your jeans, pulling further away so he could take them off you. 

And then he suddenly freezes. His gaze on something next to your face. 

You turn your head and find yourself staring into the eyes of the fussy kitty. You can’t help but burst out laughing. Sylus looks at you like you’ve gone crazy. 

“I thought you’d said you’ve put them all in the glass cases.” He moves to the edge of the bed and takes off your slippers, you’re still shaking from laughing. The fussy kitty isn’t the only one on the bed, there just wasn’t enough space in the cases for all of them.

Sylus takes one of your legs and grabs the rim of your jeans, he starts carefully pulling it off. He grabs your other leg and pulls them both off. 

As he lets go, a gentle breeze brushes your bare legs and you stare at him. All laughter suddenly gone. 

You watch him as he takes off his jacket, his gaze set on you. He unbuckles his belt and takes it off, letting it fall beside him on the floor, next to the jacket. You sit up, taking the edge of your hoodie before deciding to also grab your shirt and take everything off in one go, throwing it all to the side of the bed. You turn to Sylus and lock eyes with him. He’s unzipped his leather pants and has taken his boots off. He slowly climbs up the bed, on top of you, only to reach and throw all the plushies to the floor. 

“Tonight, only I am allowed to share this bed with you.” He smirks and touches your cheek. You can feel the heat rising on your stomach and face. 

You suddenly wonder if you’re even going to get any sleep.

[evreluns]

Imagine, a self aware lads au.

But, lets make it a little different; Player who is a house wife, and has a loving and caring husband. One day, you scrolled tiktok as you lay down on your soft bed, caged in the warmth embrace of your husband. Your husband is still asleep— until one random fyp comes by, showing pictures of handsome and cute men and guess—

One of the male leads look like your hubby! You immediately downloaded the game without any thinking, want to see it much further (guess who looks like our hubby). You actually not that oblivious about that game, know quite some informations about it, but you are not interested on that game. Until, you realize that there is one of the male lead that looks like your hubby, so you download it.

Months you play this game until you realize that your game turn into something creepy; the respons from the character became much more natural and realistic, they always maintain an intense eye contact— somehow they answer something that has a correlation to the things you do right now.

Imagine their jealousy to know that the player has a husband and that man looks like them???

(Idk man this my intrusive thought at fucking 7 AM)

[rafayelsbeloved]

My shaylaaaaa....ᕕ( ཀ ʖ̯ ཀ)ᕗ

I want to hug him... He is too pure for this world....

Does Rafayel really have to choose MC over Lemuria?

Of course, it looks like in a world where Lemuria is revived, MC cannot be there with him; and similarly, in a world where MC is by Rafayel’s side, Lemurians are forced to live on land, subject to all kinds of abuse out of human greed.

But I don’t think Rafayel even considers MC and Lemuria as separate sides. He did try to do that but in the end, I think, he doesn't want to choose one over the other. The thing is, even without the bond he shares with MC, Rafayel truly cares about all of his followers including MC (even the cat that he took care of for a short while).

If we look at how he acts with people around him, it is so easy to see that he is a very caring god. He attends Talia’s wedding to give his blessings. He prepares a gift for her, he designs her a necklace that would match her wedding dress. Through all the bickering, he sees that Thomas looks up to him and he lets him be by his side. He makes Thomas his manager and invites him to the new year’s celebrations.

He helps others hold the Seamoon ceremony for the deceased, and if that is not possible, he brings the flowers for his follower to the funeral of the man who harmed her.

He cares about the children enough to held special workshops for them, and donates art supplies. He cares about the students he gave lectures to in Linkon University when he was just there to keep an eye on MC. He gives them honest feedback, he lets them criticize his works and he remembers them by their names.

And even when he realizes that one of his students was working with Ever dissecting Lemurian hearts, even when he gets angry at the sudden reveal, Rafayel gives the student a chance to explain himself and lets him go, trusting that the student will maybe find the right path in the future.

Honestly, I think, you have to be a special kind of evil to attract Rafayel’s wrath. Because no matter how hasty he may come of time to time, he is a very patient and understanding person. That’s why he still respects the elder Lemurians even if he keeps running away. That’s why he is still with Amund, listening to his advice even when he obviously doesn’t really like him that much.

No matter how much he tries to appear as a cold person, people around him are always aware that they are in the embrace of his warmth.

And, I really don't think he values one over the other or even makes the MC vs Lemuria comparison at all. The thing is I don’t even think Rafayel’s conflict is directly related to his love for MC. Because, even before MC became his follower and he gave her his heart, Rafayel considered Lemuria’s flame as a poor imitation of the sun, a fire that is not hot but just merely warm. And, he did not like the weak warmth emanated from a flame placed in the middle of a cold and dark room. He wanted to break through the surface and bask in the sun’s glow. Maybe, he had doubts about how the Lemuria worked, how the ceremony was held from the very beginning.

And I think that’s also related to why the Sea God ceremony appeared to “fail”. That disastrous ceremony happened the exact way it was told in the prophecy, stating the fire would go out only to be reignited by him. He still left that ceremony with a newborn flame in his hands. A flame that shook the foundations of Lemuria. And I think the flame Rafayel was supposed to have and the flame he actually has after that ceremony is as different as the fire in the temple and the sun.

I kind of think there were two souls in the beginning. One was supposed to take the heart of the other, and make the heart itself the faith that ignites the flame. And the other was supposed to mix into the sea and disappear, only to come back again and reclaim the heart. And continue this never-ending cycle. This heart, taken by force in such a violent way, could only provide a lukewarm flame that cannot be compared to the power of the sun.

Past Lemuria existed as these two souls stole their warmth away from each other to keep this place, in the bottom of a fissure in the deep sea, warm. The past Lemuria existed through the torturous cycle that had to be upheld by Rafayel and MC.

And, maybe that’s why Rafayel considers his attraction to MC as an addictive painful feeling. Maybe that’s why he’s willing to burn by his love for her. And maybe that’s why it is really important that we see Rafayel leaving these feelings behind and embracing love as an inspiration rather than pain. He's ready to break the cycle now and bring Lemuria the sun, instead of a small flame.

I think what happened during the ceremony was MC showed Rafayel a way out of this cycle by giving him her purest faith without Rafayel taking her heart. Although, they still failed in the end. And ended up continuing this cycle for many more years.

So, maybe the good ending for this story is a good ending for both MC and Rafayel, and Lemuria. A good ending where the Lemuria thrives under its new sun’s glow, and a good ending where MC and Rafayel are always by each other’s sides like two koi fish swimming in a pond.

A good ending where Rafayel doesn't have to choose a side and keeps all his followers safe as the caring god he is.

[kilesplaysthings]

spending a cozy/lazy day with the boys~

Xavier:

Going on a foodie tour! You visit all your favorite noodle houses and try all sorts of yummy dishes

When you both can’t eat anymore, you head home and decide to do an “official” ranking of each place, listing them from S tier to D tier. You consider starting a food blog with this.

Afterwards you spend the rest of the day chilling in bed, either playing games or napping

Rafayel:

A relaxing day at the pool!

The two of you spend the day swimming and diving in the pool or floating around on tubes in the lazy river, refreshing drinks in hand

You order takeout and have it delivered to the pool side, using the pool’s tables to eat on

For the rest of the afternoon, you lay out and nap on the comfy pool chairs or soak in the hot tub.

Zayne:

The two of you decide to spend a leisurely morning at your favorite cafe, where you order your favorite treats and read the next book you both are reading together as part of the little book club you started.

Afterwards you decide to talk a walk through the nearby park to admire the flowers and maybe ride on a paddle boat together

Lunch is spent at home and you two curl up on the couch together sipping afternoon tea and discussing your book further

Sylus:

Glamping! On a nice trail surrounded by trees

This is with Sylus so you won’t be roughing it even if you’re out in nature. He’ll have a small stove you can use to cook some food and comfy air mattresses to use with lots of fuzzy blankets and fluffy pillows, not to mention a tent large enough to fit several people

You both take a nice hike on the trail and go fishing at the lake nearby

The large tent has a sun roof and you both spend the night cuddled up under the covers staring up at the stars

Caleb:

The two of you decide to do something that you loved doing as kids: a pillow and blanket fort in the living room!

You take all the blankets, comforters and pillows you can gather to make a big fluffy bed on the living room rug by the tv

You decide to marathon your favorite movie series or shows while pigging out on takeout or pizza

When it gets super late, you two snuggle together and scroll on your phones sharing dumb, goofy reels/tiktoks with each other until you both pass out

[zomgcaleb]

I need to give him mind numbing head.