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skybristle · 3 months ago

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ok fuck it here's the entire pre mass ascension section of my lore doc. are you guys fed

Before the void fluid revolution, the area that would eventually host the BH local group was very, very highly populated by ancients. Close-ish to the equator, with a coast to the west and a mountain range to the east, it became a breeding ground for multiple societies, most notably a fishing/port city that would become highly influential in a future important ancient’s development [winky face].

This high population inspired multiple gen 1 iterators to be built in the same rough area, an unusual practice normally! [this would end up being disastrous, but foresight doesn't seem to be the ancients’ forte].

The first iterator to be constructed was Plunging Flows of Ash, by the architect Black Sand Hourglass, Racing Towards the Start, for the exclusive purpose of… well… solving the problem, as all early iterators. This is notable however because it kind of defines his entire character. He takes his original purpose to heart - to solve the problem for his creators, but nothing more. As a prototype iterator, he has a LOT of struggles with functionality especially when being stretched beyond his means, but it’s also an attitude thing. When he eventually gets his city, Novus, he’s pretty pissy and negligent to it, not to mention his systems cannot keep up especially as his city continues to innovate and modernize on his old bones. He’s generally just… very lazy and apathetic and self centered, wanting to push anything he sees as ‘not his problem’ onto others and refusing to adapt and change.

ENTER Pleas to Limitless Light, Three Scorched Corridors, a very hardworking ancient whom was set on building her own iterator through the Global Iterator Project. Through a very long and arduous construction, she led the Countless Swirling Sparks project- named after her incredibly elaborate and intuitive AI base designed to approach problems in a streamlined and innovative manner- her name originally refers to sparks of innovation!

As Corridors spent decades on the project, she got increasingly more exhausted and lost passion for it, though had to see it through. After a point, she was mostly concerned about leaving behind her legacy of the House of Currents she hailed from and raising an equally brilliant successor. So, as the project is closing, she has a son, Seven Praised Rays, Sun Setting West, laying the pressure on thick for him to take her place as soon as possible so she can ascend. We’ll get back to him later. :3c

The third iterator to be constructed is Erupting Maw- notable because her architect, An Empty Caldera, Rope Held Taught is foreign- sent by the Global Iterator project to prospect and lead construction. While most of the local area is generally accepting, there’s been a much growing tension regarding the effect of building so many iterators, not just in their area but also globally. The rains are getting worse, and a lot of people who can’t afford to move up to live on top of the iterators are dying or suffering in hastily built shelters. In theory, while divisive, Maw’s construction would have led to much more living space for the local population in her city, many people were frustrated that this was just adding to the problems. Many were leaving, with plans being drafted to gain more space by any means necessary- though they awaited Maw’s construction with baited breath.

…This faith would end up being severely misplaced.

After Maw was online, but before Solaris was constructed and the only population was the workers who spent decades building up her divine superstructure, she noticeably began to… shift. This could partially be attributed to her creator, Caldera, a rather judgemental and egotistical person who was extremely prideful of its work, but Maw went far beyond that. Slowly but surely, she convinced her dear creator that, frankly, her purpose was misplaced- they spent decades building a god of biomaterial and metal, only to force her to waste her time attending to impoverished surface dwellers and solving a meaningless problem when they already had void fluid. Maw could instead spend her time being a generous god to the few who earned it by building her. Especially as time went on, Caldera, and future admins, essentially became a puppet to Maw’s will with her being the sole god of her city. And to her devoted followers, Maw was a generous and devoted goddess- but to outsiders looking in, the city was essentially a cruel and xenophobic cult with unknown limits on what they would do to protect the sanctity of their holy grounds.

Considering that everyone was waiting on Maw’s construction to escape the rains- and her structure only accelerated the issue, and the Great Equalizer really began to set in, there was all out panic. Novus couldn’t take on any more than Ash already had, Axon was already densely populated, and Solaris’ puppet government was refusing immigration on any basis even as people were dying from floods below.

To understand the following- I have to pick back up on Rays’ story, a bit before the point we’re currently at. This is where the lore and characters start getting really fleshed out and juicy I promise

After Sparks had finished development in Rays’ infancy, he practically lived and breathed her existence. From when he was very young- she was a continued presence in his life. Back then, Sparks was a very kind and friendly, maybe even a little whimsical, iterator- very committed to her task and to helping people both within her city and far beyond it, Ancients and other Iterators alike. She’s a bit jittery, nervous, enthusiastic, and maybe too hardworking for her own good- but generally speaking she’s happy!

This often manifests in the actions towards her mentor [later this would be labeled ‘Senior’], Ash. He is… not very excited to have the iterator equivalent of an eager puppy pestering him, especially with his established disdain for being given work outside of the Problem. Rather than actually help his appointed mentee, he spends much of Corridors’ administration and beyond whining to her about his problems with his city and all of these distractions, especially later on as his disdain for the younger iterators ‘replacing’ him grows.

Sparks looks at this less with annoyance and rejection and- initially, with pity. She thinks, with her innovative structure and the big aspirations behind her development- it wouldn’t hurt to help her group member out, yeah? And Ash just… keeps taking and taking and taking and sucking her dry, basically since construction, as she begins to shoulder this feeling of responsibility that she really shouldn’t have especially at the prospect of more iterators being built in the local area. She is however desperate for companionship and someone to listen, especially someone older and more respected than her- so she persists. She doesn’t really begin to realize how fucked the whole arrangement is until way, way later- she’s a bit lost and young and just trying to be kind.

As for Rays, he’s a very nervous, somewhat sickly, and isolated child, almost entirely consumed by the weight of his family’s reputation and Corridors practically breathing down his neck for a successor. He struggles to remember the time when he was very young and she was kinder to him. He’s very aware of the fact he will inherit the administrative position [nepotism is pretty common in elite ancient circles], and while he’s far from lazy he’s almost kind of… detached to and afraid of it? Trying to languish in the present rather than confront the future, as the work piles on from an early age. He’s very stressed and antisocial.

Until college [or well, their equivalent], that is, in one of the many prestigious schools located in Axon. He meets two very key people who change the trajectory of all of their lives, making a deeply bonded friend group along the way.

A Cherished Melody, from Riverbeds to Reefs comes from the surface, specifically the western coastal city, having fought tooth and nail with a brilliant and hardworking mind to make it up onto the prestigious iterator cities. It’s loud and rambunctious and brings a very radical perspective to the table- in basically all things, but especially religion. It essentially believed that the construct of the karmas and the crushing societal norms that came with it were ultimately unimportant in the face of the void- and that you should just live life to the fullest and take the plunge to the void when you felt ready. Beyond that, it is an immensely earnest, loyal, and inspiring person, if extremely stubborn.

Similarly, Glowing Amber Sap, Weeping from a Punctured Abyss also hails from the surface- but under much different circumstances. Coming to Axon from the deeply religious areas of the southeast [near the fissure/in the future where Starlight’s can is], the intention of their education was for future monkhood. However, especially living in the somewhat more liberal city, they end up growing deeply dissatisfied with that future and place their perspective more on their love for humanitarianism and conservation. As the world is reshaped under iterators and populated by purposed organisms, and their home temple is razed by rainfall, they feel like they’re the only one seeing this disaster about to unfold as the general tensions [mentioned in the maw section] bubble. Though, knowing they’re well past the point of no return on iterators, they instead wish to conserve pre-equalizer fauna and build more green space for everyone.

Those dreams are far in the future though- for now, Amber’s still grappling with religious guilt and the tear between their aspirations and their home, and consequently they find themselves drawn to Reefs and its radicalism. Similarly, they end up taking Rays under their wing, initially out of Reef’s conviction. As a bonded little pack, Reefs especially motivates Rays to be a better person- rather than cruise on the nepotism, to truly work and earn the position he has, not for reputation or glory but to do good as he’s been handed the chance to. Together, the three of them move into iterator technician work and education with genuinely really purehearted intentions!!! [i sure hope nothing crushes that]

Predictably, about as soon as Rays can support himself, his mother Corridors departs to the void and leaves big shoes to fill. He fumbles, badly, especially at first, but as he matures and evens himself out [especially with the support of his growingly ambitious and prestiged best friends] he becomes a genuinely really capable administrator! He ends up getting genuinely really close with Sparks- she’s friendly and receptive and he spent much of his childhood around her, after all. They’re good friends and he takes his role as her voice in High Council matters extremely seriously, working hand in hand with Reefs especially as it becomes her head technician after a couple decades.

Meanwhile, as the rain crisis accelerates, Amber departs from work on Sparks to instead focus on their own iterator proposition in line with their ideals from college, eventually formulating into the plans for Budding Ochre Opportunities and more importantly to them, her city of Haven where they can execute all of their plans. That project will take many years- and the crisis is here, now, especially as the situation in Solaris boils over and they make it known they will not accept citizens [I know, I’m finally getting back to where we left off]

The response is- predictably, all out fucking panic, as people on the surface begin trying to clamber to Axon in droves and its impossible to accommodate them as the surface becomes practically unlivable.

As a consequence of this, Axon’s High Council comes to a horrifying conclusion- They resolve to expand Sparks’ structure to accommodate more living blocks. Anyone actually working in the iterator and understanding their function [rays and reefs] are rightfully extremely opposed to this- they are living breathing people and you can’t just go tacking on additional body parts and expect it to go well when Sparks was already highly ambitious at her current scale. Even from a mechanical standpoint- they’re incredibly complex machines and trying to slap on additional support structures and jamming iterator neural tissue in there is essentially bound for disaster, power or coolant failures, etc.

Given the decades of bubbling fear and tension that have exploded, however, their protests fall on deaf ears. While Rays is forced to manage this unfurling catastrophe and break the news, Reefs has its arm twisted into actually carrying it out. Sparks… reacts as well as one would expect.

While she recognized the growing tension and unease, and was kind of anticipating a high workload and perhaps a rather large and mismanaged city- this was beyond precedent. Especially considering this decision was made for her in High Council meetings, behind closed doors, no overseers allowed. Her pleas are basically ignored, as Rays tries in vain to placate her [out of deep care and knowing he really doesn’t have the power here, but from her perspective it looks terrible], as her piping and external plating are torn open to quickly and painfully assemble half-assed expansions.

Beyond the betrayal from her creators, her world also begins closing in on her from the fellow Iterator side of things. Scared and desperate, she pleads to Ash as an authority and as her senior to do something, but he at best makes a halfhearted attempt to force broadcast Maw which only gives her the opportunity to mock Sparks, step all over her, and then promptly go ‘lol no’. Ash throws in the towel then and there, acting incredibly dismissive and ambivalent towards Sparks’ agony despite how much she felt she did for him and her desperation, fragmenting even more of her trust and eventually leading her to believe any relationship is transactional and she will inevitably be stabbed in the back. [that’s a GREAT and HEALTHY lesson to internalize sparks GOOD JOB this will not lead to any consequences whatsoever]

And Sparks is fucking angry, not to mention beyond hurt. Beyond the extreme overstimulation and immense pain and electrical storms from desperate overclocking to get this whole mess functional- her trust and compassion and eagerness has been completely shattered under a tide of exhaustion and agony.

Of course, being subjected to this with virtually no outlet gives her cause to turn her rage and frustration on someone, and who better than her admin, the person who swore to be her voice and then “””stood by””” while this was done to her. Their relationship breaks down over several meetings as she turns on him and basically just takes everything he says as bad faith as possible to further her rants, barely listening to him no matter how desperately he cares and the guilt crushing both him and Reefs [more on that later].

Hitting a fever pitch in one of their many many arguments, as Rays attempts to humanize her by thinking of the little things with a gift and Sparks reacting as if he’s trying to buy her complacency, the electricity failures Sparks experiences overflows into her chamber and electrocutes Rays. Reefs is the one to catch his drone’s SOS signal and drag him out. [hey i made a comic about that!]

While Sparks is shut down while they figure out what happened, Rays recovers in hospital with Reefs at his side [also trying to manage the unfolding crisis as the second in command for Sparks- yeah it’s not having a good time] as Amber rushes back to Axon from Ochre’s groundwork.

At this point, Rays has fully sunk into his guilt and self hatred for what he feels he let happen [it would have happened regardless but that doesnt matter] and urges his friends to leave Axon [and leave him behind] while they still can. Reefs protests this, of course, its loyalty runs deep and not even these circumstances will shake it, but in the end both of them are extremely guilty people over what they did to Sparks and Rays convinces it it can do something right by departing and building its own iterator- to help relieve this burden and as an excuse to escape Axon sponsored by the House of Currents. Reefs’ iterator drafts go on to become Resonant Chimes. [hey i ALSO made a comic about THIS!] [this is the last comic don't get excited]

As Chimes is developed [again, gen 2 iterators still took quite a while], he goes from a project of obligation to something Reefs has fallen in love with [in a familial way]. It ends up very dedicated to its kid, even with all of its stress about Rays and its past, but it is able to move on through working on him. Unfortunately, this is where their tight-knit friend group begins to fragment and part ways, with Rays ascending not too long after Chimes and Ochre complete construction.

Yeah, with all that guilt and baggage and him never being able to reconcile things with Sparks? His ascension comes less because he’s prepared and more because he’s so desperate to escape while not betraying his family legacy and Corridors- and this is the only socially acceptable way for him to leave his position behind. He echoes, lingering about Sparks’ structure long past his society’s time. [HEY i made a PMV about this!]

As for Ochre and Chimes- they come to be as a pair, basically inseparable from the beginning. Besides their creators being long term friends and their twin constructions, they also compliment eachother very well!

Resonant Chimes was established with his kindness in mind- fostered very much by his parent Reefs. He had a focus on citizens, rather than working much on the problem, and took to that job with great pleasure! Following Reefs experiences with Sparks, it puts immense stress on his autotomy as a person and gives him a lot of freedom. Continuing that thread, its House of Tides [named after its mother, who passed due to the rains during the Sparks crisis] was built on a fundamental level of trust and a very close working relationship between technicians and maintenance & the governmental structure, which Chimes even occasionally got the opportunity to partake in [and even then, the point was that everyone in power over him was trusted by him. If he ever got extreme icks from someone who he was placed in the care of then he had the option to do something about it, unlike so many of his kind]

His deep relationship with his city manifests out of his choice to help the people of his city above all else because that’s just… the kind of person he is. Helping people, engaging in their rituals, getting dressed up, etc makes him immensely happy for CENTURIES. He loves being social and helping people, even with his awareness of their incompatible lifespans. He’s completely dependent on them to feel whole, in a way. The mutualism and synergy between him and Chorus is incredibly notable.

Ochre, meanwhile, has a much more modest personality. Flor’s facility is more focused on quaint things like pigment production and local manufacturing of crafts, with the city of Haven itself being on the smaller side and largely self-sufficient with their vast green spaces and solar panels. Not to mention, her own admin and architect, Amber, remained more focused on the conservation efforts within Haven. Their relationship with Ochre was typically cordial, but distant. Due to her shy personality, she ended up really drawn to Chimes and his kindness and sociability. Paired with a close working relationship and her own earnest passion, they stay extremely close as friends [and more later on].

Events within the Local Group became significantly more relaxed after that, though the expansions crisis would continue to haunt the group, both in its iterators and politics. Sparks would continue to substitute as senior for Ash as the group expanded, though would long shed that enthusiasm and joy that drove it, sinking into a sense of obligation as she slowly grew more disillusioned and frustrated with Ash as her pain and workload piled on and she forced herself through it all. She created such a complex mask- because she had to- that as events proceeded she would genuinely begin to believe she was okay and had moved on. [trust me, she hadn’t, and it's festering! we’ll get to that :3]

The next iterator to be constructed is Reaching For Caged Starlight, by a foreign architect imported by the Global Iterator Project, At Place Among the Stars, Spirals of Billowing Silk. While generally unremarkable, it is notable that these circumstances of construction led to a sort of mistrust and distance from the interconnected trio of Axon, Haven, and Chorus. That was fine for the most part, with both xeir government and Starlight herself more interested in quietly working on the problem without external management.

Based on asts location, next to a natural fissure close to the void and a corresponding temple that was once of great importance, its city develops a culture where void baths certainly cannot be a true path to the void, as only the great Sea is holy in of itself, with void fluid extracted from it just being a material. Essentially, they believed in a fundamental version of the “old path” where one must travel directly to the void sea at the end of their life. While Starlight doesn’t care much for her citizens and they in turn respectfully leave her to her work, this mindset became a fact of life that would be warped severely when they were gone,the solution became a point of frustration, and a dash of Sliverism on top.

Proceeding onwards, the 7th iterator to be built in the area is A Glittering Aurora, likely the last without certain circumstances transpiring. Her project was spearheaded by Ten Hollow Pines Pointing Towards Snowcapped Poles, with the most notable parts of their background being their upbringing in Chorus. Though born well after its ascension, he took Reefs’ methodology to heart and greatly admired it, as well as having a background in bioengineering working with Chimes, an iterator he cared deeply for.

When it was allowed to work on an iterator of its own, it, of course, carried this relaxed attitude and immense stress on autonomy into the project. Unfortunately, his view of Reefs was greatly warped, and he frankly neglected the immense amount of work and patience Reefs put into it to make the whole thing work, even long past its death and without any enforcement towards Chimes- largely in thanks to the person Chimes already was.

Pines' relationship with Aurora was friendly, but not nearly close as they would have wanted. While he gave her all the freedom in the world to do whatever she wanted, and often acted towards her as if they already had an established relationship which… didn’t exist. Pines expected, after all of its hard work to build him, and all of its leniency, for the relationship reflected with Chimes and his admins to fall into its lap. However… Aurora simply isn’t the same person Chimes is, and rather than want to spend his free time working with his city and engaging with them, he was more interested in chatting away on Global and general drama and discourse observed through overseers. Regardless, Pines still held hope, and often would refuse to put their foot down on Aurora's ambivalence even as Albedo’s citizens [mainly politicians], especially of the more religious type, got frustrated with this behavior.

Of note was an at the time somewhat high ranking member of the overall government, A Silent Refrain, Banners Mottled by Shadows, primarily an expert in encryption and security with a powerful background and access to Aurora’s superstructure. Capitalizing on the frustrations with Pines, decades into his administration, possibly as the beginnings of an attempted coup, he illegally modified certain parts of Aurora’s structure and AI base to restrict her access to Global. This was with the intent to make her more ‘motivated’ and ‘behaved’, and other such things.

Predictably, when Pines found out, it was fucking LIVID. Refrain refused to budge and was very rigid in the idea that iterators were designed to serve and should act like it. This resulted in a rather violent confrontation, ending with Refrain almost crushed under the claws of Pines' pet lizard and the demand to leave Albedo in what was essentially exile. [Aurora would end up restored to normal and okay- though come out of it extremely fascinated with the same locks that had hurt him- specifically within breaking code and the like. Rarely would she ever go as far as taboos, though…]

Frankly sick of both Pines’ and Aurora’s bullshit and the generally ‘immorality’ of Albedo, he complied and took his more religious bunch with him and went running back to the Global Iterator Project with exaggerated stories. Given his influential background and patronage to the project, and undeniable skill, the wing of the Project in Orrery eventually approved his long effort to get an Iterator grant.

Given his track record and his rather cruel opinions of iterators, the ensuing project went about as well as expected. As ancient society in general grew more frustrated and impatient with the lack of a solution, matching with the increased availability of void fluid, the bubble that would eventually burst to form the mass ascension was already well over their heads as Wandering Whispers began construction.

While rushed, there was also a lot of intentional cruelty in their design, manifesting from the same expertise Refrain used to hurt Aurora. Their own autonomy was heavily restricted, with barely any access to their group beyond their senior. Paired with Refrain’s iron fist over their work quota, general cruelty from both him and their citizens in general, and isolation, they ended up a very scared and meek iterator with almost no grasp on personhood.

Seeing a very alarming reflection of herself, Sparks urged Ash [who she was already rather out of patience with at this point] to get off his ass and offer an outlet to their poor groupmate as Whispers was supposedly allowed to contact him for ‘iterating and training purposes only’. Surprisingly, Ash took to this task and actually grew somewhat fond of the younger iterator- mainly due to their vulnerability and immense trust to the only kindness they were given. Sparks, exhausted from keeping up her facade for so long, chose not to intervene further [and I mean, what would she have done?]

In the end, this wouldn’t amount to much, as the overarching global government eventually sent out the Mass Ascension mandate within only a couple decades of Whispers’ construction, simultaneously shutting down the Global Iterator Project. Though the population had been dwindling for quite some time- this was the nail in the coffin, and all ancients were expected to meet their fate in the vats. The few stragglers who managed to escape the often forceful baths could not sustain society on their own in the wastes below.

This of course had an immense impact on each Iterator, though I will get to that in the next section. :3

Notably, one of the last events to happen- just before their ascension, Chimes’ last admin descended into his chamber to give him a gift. His blanket, made of countless quilt squares made by generations of his close friends, admins, and technicians, a tradition started by Reefs before it left. He would cling fiercely to it and what it represented for the rest of the timeline.

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reilemon · 29 days ago

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🌊Beneath the Abyss🌊

♡︎ synopsis: Lured by a haunting melody, you find yourself pulled into the depths of the sea, only to be saved by Rafayel, a mysterious merman.

♡︎ pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader

⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ⚠ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ⚠ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒

♡︎ cw: depictions of (almost) drowning, mermaid au , semi-public seggs, oral (f!receiving)

♡︎ word count: 6.2k

♡︎ a/n: the second story for kinktober 2024. the beginning was very fun to write for someone with thalassophobia 🙂

♡︎ Thank you to my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping.

divider by @cafekitsune

Tonight is like any other night - where you sit on a wooden bench by the cliffside and read an old book. The sky is dark as ink, the stars distant and blinking slowly. The moon hangs low and casts a silvery light, illuminating the worn pages of your book. The sea is far below, its waves like whispers, soothing your thoughts as you read. Each wave crashes against the cliff’s base in a rhythmic hum. This place seems cold and unwelcome, but it’s yours. You’ve always come here, seeking solitude that only the night can offer. The dark doesn’t frighten you—it embraces you like an old friend. You feel safe here.

But then, it happens.

A sound, soft at first, like a breath carried on the wind, slips through the night. As it drifts closer, it wraps itself around your mind, around your soul. It’s a melody unlike anything you’ve ever heard—haunting, hypnotic, and achingly beautiful. It calls to something deep inside of you, and before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re standing, the book forgotten, your feet moving on their own.

The song grows stronger, tugging at you, pulling you toward the cliff's edge. You don’t resist. You can’t. The sea below crashing, dark and deep, but it no longer feels distant or dangerous. It feels inviting. The melody grows stronger, filling the air with its melancholic beauty. It’s not the sweetness of the song that unnerves you, but the way it seeps into your bones, like the sea pulling at the shore. You take another step, the rocks beneath your feet slick and uneven, but none of it matters now. Only the song matters.

And then—you fall.

The world tilts, and the sky spins above you as you plummet toward the water. Panic grips your chest, your heart racing as you crash into the icy depths. The cold is shocking, like needles through your lungs, and the once inviting sea now feels like it has you in its grasp, pulling you under. You thrash, desperate, your limbs sluggish as the water envelops your whole being. You open your mouth to scream, but no sound escapes—only bubbles rising to the surface.

You can’t believe this is happening. You’re going to drown.

Terror floods your veins as you sink deeper, your lungs burning, the black water pressing in from all sides. The song, the beautiful, irresistible song, has led you to this cold, watery grave.

You’re sinking into the deep. How could you let this happen to you?

But then, through the suffocating darkness, you see him.

A figure, a shadow, moving swiftly through the water. His form isn’t human, but sleek and graceful. His movements are too fluid, too fast. You blink, your vision fading as the last of your air escapes in a stream of bubbles.

For a brief moment, you think he’ll leave you to this terrible fate. But then, his hands, cool and firm, wrap around your waist, pulling you upward with a strength that feels effortless. His touch is strangely gentle as he propels you toward the surface, through the crushing weight of the sea.

You break through the surface with a gasp, sucking in air as your body shakes, your limbs still heavy and numb from the cold. His grip remains on you, guiding you through the water as he swims toward the shore. He brings you to a sheltered cove hidden from the world. Here, the water is calm, the sea’s roar softened to a murmur. He releases you gently onto the shore, your body trembling, your mind reeling from what just happened.

You lie there for a moment, catching your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. When you finally lift your head, you see him.

You can’t believe it. You sit in the sand, your breath ragged, lungs burning from the saltwater you swallowed, but your eyes—your eyes are locked on him. A figure not human, not entirely, but something out of stories you were told as a child. Stories you never believed. Myths, you always thought.

A merman.

The word seems impossible, heavy and foreign in your mind, yet he is there before you, dripping with seawater, his form half in the waves, half on the shore. His dusky purple hair clings to his forehead, eyes the color of shifting sunsets—blue fading into pink, hypnotic and unreal. His pale blue tail glistens under the moonlight, every shimmering scale catching the silver glow, moving with a grace that seems almost too smooth.

Are you hallucinating? You struggle to grasp at the fact what you're seeing is true. Mermaids were the stuff of stories, tales sailors told after too much drink, legends spun to explain away the strange sea. But now, here he is. A merman. He saved you.

You feel the weight of that thought settle in your chest—he saved you. Pulled you from the dark, icy depths. His hands had been firm around your waist, his strength undeniable as he swam you to safety, your body limp and helpless in his grip. The memory of it sends a shiver through you, a mixture of fear and awe. And now he is watching you with those strange, unreadable eyes. Your heart beats faster, not out of fear but something deeper—curiosity, wonder, gratitude. You don’t know how to feel.

“Thank you,” you manage to say, your voice hoarse and trembling.

He doesn’t respond, his gaze flickering as if trying to understand your words. He’s silent, but there’s something in his eyes—something that isn’t cold, something that isn’t indifferent. He’s saved you, and yet, you can see the hesitation and caution. His lips part, as if he wants to say something, but no words come. He seems frustrated, as though language is a barrier neither of you can cross.

Still, there’s a connection between you—fragile but real. You stand up and take a small step toward him, your eyes meeting his. He stares at you, taking in your wet form, the way your clothes cling to your body. There’s a flicker of something in his expression—something that looks almost like curiosity. But then, as quickly as it appeared, it’s gone.

As he slips back into the water, his eyes linger on you one last time, and without a word, he disappears beneath the surface. You realize then, with a strange certainty, that you’ll see him again. He may not have meant for you to be drawn into his world, but now, neither of you can escape it. You’ve crossed a threshold, and there’s no going back.

Tomorrow, you’ll return. You both will.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⋆｡𖦹 °. 𓇼

You arrive at the cove just as the sun begins to set, the sky turning into shades of amber and rose. What happened last night feels surreal. But the ache in your muscles tells you it was very much real. In your hand, you clutch a small gold bracelet. It’s a token, a simple gesture, but it feels like the least you can offer him for saving your life. You hope he’ll accept it.

You sit by the shore, the same place where he left you, eyes scanning the horizon. You don’t know how long you’ll wait, but something tells you he’ll come. And you don’t wait long.

The water stirs, a ripple moving across the surface. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him. He emerges from the depths with that same graceful ease, his scales glistening in the fading sunset. His eyes find yours, and for a moment, neither of you speak. You simply stare, caught in the same strange tension from the night before. He stays just out of reach, half-submerged in the shallow waters of the cove, watching you.

You shift towards him slowly, trying not to startle him this time. You hold up the bracelet. “For you.” your voice hesitant. You know he doesn’t understand the words, but maybe he’ll understand the gesture.

His gaze flickers to the bracelet, and slowly, cautiously, he moves closer. He raises one hand from the sea, fingers delicate, reaching toward the gift. His gaze never leaves yours as his fingers brush against the gold. You clasp it around his wrist gently, and a breath you’ve been holding leaves your lips. He stares at it for a moment, watching the way it catches the light. Then, he looks at you, his expression unreadable, but his guard... lowered. He doesn’t speak, but there’s a softness in his gaze now.

You smile, gesturing to yourself. “I’m...” You say your name slow and clear, hoping he’ll understand. You point again, repeating, “My name is...”

He watches you, brow furrowing in concentration. He lifts a hand, mimicking your gesture, pointing to himself. “Rafayel,” he says, and your heart skips a beat at the sound of his silky voice.

A smile tugs at your lips. You repeat his name, savoring the sound of it. It’s a small step, but it feels like a bridge between your worlds.

For the next few minutes, you try to teach him more. Simple words. “Water.” You gesture to the sea. “Sky.” You point to the sky. Each time, he watches you closely, though his lips struggle to form the words. He repeats after you, hesitant at first, but with growing confidence. It’s slow, but it’s something. You laugh softly when he stumbles over a word, and his lips twitch, just the slightest hint of amusement in return.

The moon starts to rise. You sit by the shore while Rafayel rests in the shallow water, his body half-submerged. The quiet between you feels comfortable now, no longer heavy with uncertainty. He watches you with a mix of curiosity and caution, his guard still there, but not as rigid.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⋆｡𖦹 °. 𓇼

You bring a book the next night, an old fairytale, the kind with simple words and enchanting stories. He’s there again and you sit together by the water, turning the pages. You point at the pictures, saying the words slowly, and he listens, repeating the ones he can manage. Each night, you bring another, reading to him in the soft glow of the moon. His words are broken, but he tries. He watches your lips when you speak, mimicking the movements, and each night, you get a little closer to understanding each other.

And as the days pass, something else shifts between you. His wariness fades, replaced by a playful curiosity. He teases you with small splashes of water, grinning at your surprised reactions. His hands linger when he helps you stand up, his touch growing bolder, more confident. You catch him staring sometimes, his eyes roaming your face, your body, with an intensity that sends warmth rushing through you.

You talk more now, not just with words but with gestures, shared looks, and smiles. He asks questions, his voice thick with the unfamiliar human language, but eager to learn. You tell him about your world, your life, and he listens, even if he doesn’t understand it all. And when he speaks of his world, you try to piece together the meaning from the few words he knows, from the way his hands move as if painting a picture.

And each night, as you leave the cove, there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to go. There’s a part of him, too, that lingers in the water, watching you with a look that makes you think he feels the same.

The gold bracelet still gleams on his wrist, a reminder of the night he saved your life.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⋆｡𖦹 °. 𓇼

Rafayel has always been wary of humans, but with you, he finds himself wanting to know more. There’s a softness in your eyes that eases him, a vulnerability that makes him open up, bit by bit. Each time you smile at him, something stirs in his chest, he can’t quite explain it. It’s different from anything he’s ever known. You’re not like the humans he’s been taught to avoid; there’s no malice, no threat in your presence.

Your beauty, though undeniable, isn’t what captivates him the most. It’s the way you see him. He is not a creature from the deep, something to be feared, but something - someone you want to know. And it confuses him—this growing need to be closer to you, to understand you, to touch you. He’s never felt this way before, and it scares him. But he can’t stay away. The more time he spends with you, the more he begins to desire your presence, the way you make him feel more alive.

The comfort of the cove has become a sanctuary for Rafayel and you. But tonight, something lingers in the air. You’ve been thinking about that first night—about the song that led you to the edge of the cliff. You turn to him, your voice soft but curious “That night, the song... were you the one singing it?”

Rafayel’s gaze hardens at the question, his eyes showing a mix of emotions. He doesn’t answer right away, and for a moment, you worry that you’ve overstepped. But then, his head dips, as if looking for the right words. He takes a breath, his voice low. “Song... not for you.” His eyes meet yours, and there’s something darker there now, something painful. “For sailors, bad men. Hurt... my kind.”

You feel the weight of his words. You’ve heard stories of sailors plundering the depths, but seeing the pain in Rafayel’s eyes—it feels real now. His hand reaches for yours. He explains, his voice thick with emotions he struggles to contain. “Revenge, for my kind. They come, take… kill. They don’t care. ”His fingers tighten slightly around yours, as if bracing himself for what he’s about to say next. “I... stop them. I sing, they follow.”

You realize then what his song was meant to do. It was a lure for the sailors, to drag them beneath the waves. The weight of that presses down on you, and yet, there’s no fear. Only sadness for the pain he’s carried. You swallow, trying to find the right words. “But... I wasn’t meant to hear it.”

He shakes his head, his grip on your hand softening, his voice quieter now. “No. You... not like them. You hear, but...” His brow furrows. “I... not want to hurt you.” The vulnerability in his voice catches you off guard. This creature, so powerful and full of vengeance, pulled you from the depths when he could have just let you drown.

You look at him. “I’m sorry.” you say softly, though you know it’s not enough. “I’m sorry for what they did to you. I didn’t know.”

His eyes soften, the darkness in them fading as he looks at you. “You... don’t need to know,” he murmurs. “You are... different.”

You squeeze his hand gently, offering what comfort you can. “I’m glad you didn’t let me drown.” you say, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Rafayel smiles back and you see a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. “Me too.” he says quietly, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⋆｡𖦹 °. 𓇼

The nights spent by the cove have become a routine. You sit with a fairytale book in your lap, your fingers tracing over the worn pages as you read aloud. Rafayel lies on his stomach, his body still, but his gaze is not. He watches you, ombre eyes tracing every movement of your lips, every flutter of lashes as you speak. You glance up from the book, catching the intensity of his stare. A playful smile tugs at your lips, and you pause mid-sentence. "What are you looking at?" you tease.

Rafayel’s brows furrow in concentration. He still struggles to find the words, but he gestures to his own face, then to yours. "You... beautiful."

The words catch you off guard, a blush peppering your cheeks. You are taken aback by his honesty. He says it so simply, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Your heart skips a beat, but you brush it off with a soft laugh. “Thank you.”

He tilts his head with confusion in his eyes, as though he doesn’t understand why you would laugh. You shake your head, reaching out to rest your hand on his arm, feeling his cool skin. His body reacts instantly to your touch, a shiver running through him, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his hand comes to rest over yours.

Each evening, the distance between slowly fades. Touches become more frequent, more intentional. A hand resting on his arm, fingers tracing his jaw, the way his tail brushes lightly against your leg as he moves closer.

One night, Rafayel’s curiosity takes a new turn. You’re sitting on the sand, the fabric of your flowy dress bunched up around your legs. His gaze lingers on the material that shifts with the breeze. He tilts his head, lips in a small pout. Then he reaches out, pointing at your legs, gesturing to the flowing fabric. “Why... clothes?” he asks.

You laugh softly. “Humans wear different clothing depending on the weather, or their style. And we wear shoes to protect our feet.”

At the mention of shoes, his eyes drop to your bare feet. He looks back at you, his lips parting as if to ask something, but hesitates.

"Do you want to touch them?" you ask.

His face lights up with a mix of curiosity and caution. He nods. You stretch your leg out toward him, offering your foot, and he reaches for it, his fingers brushing lightly over the arch. You smile, watching his face as he studies your foot with such focus that makes you chuckle. But then, his fingers accidentally graze a ticklish spot making you pull away from his grasp and laugh as a reflex.

He jerks his hand back, eyes wide with concern, but you shake your head quickly, still laughing. “It’s okay! You just tickled me.”

His expression softens into a playful one, and he does it again, deliberately this time. He watches as your body reacts, your foot flinching away from his mischievous hands, your laughter bubbling up again. You can see the spark in his eyes, the way his lips curl into that rare smile you’re starting to see more often.

Now your eyes trace pale blue tail that glimmers in the water. You can’t stop yourself from staring. You’ve wanted to touch it from the very first moment you saw him.

You take a deep breath. “Can I... touch your tail? It’s okay if you don’t wa - .”

He chuckles at your stammering and nods, easing your anxiety. He takes your hand in his, and lowers it onto his tail, around where knees would be. Your lips part in awe, feeling the cool, sleek texture of his scales beneath your fingertips. It’s smooth, almost silky.

You look up at him. “Your tail... it’s incredible.”

Rafayel’s lips twitch into a small smile, pleased by your fascination. He shifts his body, fully focusing on your legs again. His eyes travel up, towards the space between your thighs. He glances at your face, then back, as though trying to make sense of something. Slowly, he leans in, his head tilting as he peers under the hem of your dress, his curiosity as innocent as it is bold.

A flush of heat rises to your cheeks, scooting back and pressing your thighs together. "Uh, Rafayel..." you murmur, your voice catching.

He looks up at you, confused. You can tell he doesn’t fully understand what he’s done to make you flustered, but he’s aware of the shift in your energy. “What... there?” he asks, his voice uncertain, his hand motioning toward your dress.

You bite your lip, the blush deepening. There’s no hidden intent in his question—just pure curiosity, the same way he’d ask about the books or the language you’re teaching him. You take a shaky breath. “It’s... private,” you say, choosing your words carefully. “Humans have parts that are personal, and we usually keep them covered, especially around others.”

He nods slowly. His eyes go to your dress for just a moment before they return to yours. “Private,” he repeats, the word unfamiliar on his tongue, but he seems to grasp the meaning of it. You can see the restraint in him now, the way he pulls back slightly, giving you space.

In the quiet that follows, you smile at him, reaching out to touch his face lightly, your fingers brushing over his soft skin. “You’re learning quickly,” you say softly, and he leans into your touch, his eyes closing for just a moment. But now you have a question. Your heart races as you summon the courage to speak. "Rafayel..." you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Where... where are your private parts?"

The words hang awkwardly between you, and you immediately regret it. Your body tenses as you brace for his reaction. Instead of laughing or brushing off the question, Rafayel’s expression softens with understanding. He lies on his back, glancing down at his sleek, muscled form. There’s a pause as he considers how to respond, his lips curving in a soft smile.

"They're hidden," he says quietly, pointing to the area right below his pelvis. "Beneath, for… when we need them."

You find yourself staring at the spot where he’s pointing. You bite your lip, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze is already on you, soft and unassuming, as if waiting for you to speak.

"So… how does it work?" you ask hesitantly.

Rafayel tilts his head, his brow furrowing slightly as he processes your words. "Work?" he repeats. He looks down at his tail, then back up at you. "You… want to know?"

The heat rises to your cheeks, and you glance away, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "I—I guess, yeah," you stammer. "I mean, you asked me, and I…" You trail off, embarrassed.

Rafayel’s lips quirk into a small, knowing smile, and his eyes soften at the sight of your flushed cheeks. Slowly, he speaks again. "I can… show?"

Your breath catches in your throat. The idea of him revealing that intimate part of himself makes your heart race. But before you can respond, Rafayel adds "If… I see yours too?"

Your hands tighten on the fabric of your dress, your mind racing. There's an openness in the way he asks, a genuine desire to understand you better. "You want to see mine?" you ask, your voice trembling just a little. Rafayel nods, his eyes flicking downward for just a second before meeting yours again. “Yes. You… show me. I… show you."

The tension hangs heavy between you, and for a moment, you both just sit there. You consider his words and finally, you nod. "Okay."

Rafayel hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching yours for permission one more time. With a slow nod from you, he shifts, moving just enough to give you a better view. The area he pointed at begins to part slightly, the scales pulling aside to show what is hidden. Your eyes widen as you catch the first glimpse of what lies underneath. The sight is mesmerizing, a beautiful hybrid of human and something entirely otherworldly. His member, long and thick, tapers slightly toward the tip. The texture is smooth with faint ridges along its surface. Your breath hitches as you notice how his arousal throbs gently, merging seamlessly with his aquatic form.

Rafayel watches you, how fascinated you are by this part of him. His lips quirk into a teasing smile, but a faint blush colors his cheeks. He’s aware of the tension of this moment, but there’s a playful, mischievous glint in his eyes as he tilts his head.

"You… stare long time," he teases, "You… like?"

Your breath catches as you meet Rafayel’s gaze, embarrassed for staring for so long. "Maybe," you admit with a shy smile.

Rafayel’s smile widens, his blush deepening. He glances down at himself, starting to feel bashful under your gaze, before his eyes return to yours. He shifts slightly, his hand moving to caress your cheek. His eyes move downward, toward the thin piece of clothing, then back to your face. You know it’s your turn.

The realization makes your palms clammy. Rafayel’s gaze never leaves yours, patient but full of expectation. And you want to match his vulnerability, to let him see you in the same way you’ve seen him. With a trembling hand, you reach under your dress, tugging down the bottom part of your swimsuit, his eyes following your every movement. Discarding the piece of clothing to the side, you lean back on your hands, spreading your legs.

Rafayel’s eyes widen as he stares at your exposed form, lingering on the soft skin between your thighs, on the slickness already gathering there. He looks mesmerized, his gaze flicking between your face and your body, as if he can’t decide where to focus.

"Can… I touch?" he asks, his fingers twitching with anticipation.

You nod, your heart racing. Slowly, his fingers brush against your inner thigh, cool and soft at first. His fingertips graze your entrance, and you let out a small gasp as a jolt of pleasure courses through you.

He pauses, glancing up at you with concern. “Hurt?”

You shake your head quickly, breathless. "No, no… that feels good," you assure him, your voice a little shaky. "But… if you keep touching me like that, I’ll get more… aroused." The honest answer makes your face flush even more.

Rafayel seems both intrigued and flustered by your response. Rafayel watches you closely, his fingers still resting gently against your slick entrance. He looks down, his breath catching as he feels the wetness coating his fingers. You can see his chest rising and falling as if he's trying to keep control of himself.

He glances back up at you. "Can I… touch more?"

The question takes you by surprise. This isn’t just curiosity or playful exploration anymore—this is crossing into something more intimate. You look at him, your breath catching in your throat. There’s a need that’s been growing inside him for so long—one he’s kept carefully in check, unsure if he could ask, unsure if this moment would ever come.

You feel a rush of warmth flood through you at the realization, and with a soft, shaky breath, you nod, guiding his hand a little higher. "Touch me… here," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you place his fingers on the sensitive nub just above your entrance. "This is… very sensitive. If you touch it the right way, it’ll feel incredible."

Rafayel’s breath hitches as his fingers move under your guidance. His touch is light at first, but as he watches your reaction—how your body tenses with pleasure—he grows bolder, circling the sensitive spot with slow, deliberate movements.

The sensations are overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you with every stroke of his fingers. Your hips instinctively move, seeking more of his touch, and you can’t help the soft moans that escape your lips. Rafayel’s eyes are locked on you now, his breath coming faster, his arousal clear in the way his body tenses.

"Yes," you gasp, your hands gripping the fabric of your dress as you struggle to hold back the rising tide of pleasure. "Just like that…"

Your body is trembling now, shaky gasps leaving your lips, each stroke pulling you closer to the edge. He watches you intently, eyes wide with fascination. He’s studying every reaction, every sound you make. Your fingers dig into the sand, gripping tightly as the pressure builds inside you, a tight coil ready to snap. His touch is gentle but insistent, the perfect rhythm against your most sensitive spot, and it doesn’t take long before you feel that wave approaching. Your hips buck against his hand, and the pleasure becomes too much, too overwhelming to resist.

“Rafayel -” you moan, your voice shaky. Everything seems to blur as the intense pleasure crashes over you in waves, your thighs trembling, your back arching helplessly as you come. Rafayel watches in awe, mesmerized by the way your body reacts to his touch, his hand still gently moving over your clit, prolonging your release as you ride out every last wave of pleasure. Your chest heaves, breathless, the sensation so intense you can barely focus, your body still twitching from the aftershocks. But as the pleasure subsides, his curiosity hasn’t. His fingers, still slick from your release, hover near your entrance, and he glances up at you. His fingers brush against your wetness, lingering just on the edge.

“What… if I…” he trails off.

You’re still catching your breath, your body sensitive, but you manage a nod, giving him permission. He moves slowly, his fingers slipping inside you, cautiously exploring. His finger slides into you easily, your entrance wet from your orgasm, and you let out a soft gasp as he pushes deeper. When he adds a second finger, stretching you just a little more, a shiver runs down your spine, the fullness making you moan softly. His eyes flick up to yours again, watching your face for any sign of discomfort, but all he finds is more of that same pleasure, your hips gently rocking against his hand, guiding him.

And then, as he curls his fingers inside you, searching, he finds it—the spongy spot deep within that makes your body jolt with pleasure. You react immediately, a gasp escaping your lips as he presses against it.

“There,” you gasp, your voice breathless and needy. “Right there…”

Rafayel’s eyes light up, his fingers moving with more confidence now, curling and stroking that sensitive spot inside you. The pleasure is overwhelming, a different kind of ecstasy that makes you arch into his touch, your walls tightening around his fingers. Each movement makes your moans grow louder, more desperate.

Without warning, he leans down, his mouth hovering just above your clit. Then he presses his lips to the sensitive nub. The shock of his warm mouth against you makes you cry out, your hips jerking against him as the pleasure intensifies tenfold. His tongue flicks out, tasting you, and when he hears your moan, he repeats the motion. Your hands instinctively tangle in his hair, guiding him as his tongue moves over your clit, licking and sucking in perfect rhythm with the motion of his fingers inside you. The combination is almost too much, the sensations making you dizzy, your body on the verge of losing control.

Rafayel seems affected by your reactions, his own breathing heavy now, his face flushed. He’s learning fast, his fingers curling just right inside you, hitting that sensitive spot over and over, while his mouth works your clit with growing skill. Your hips move desperately against him, seeking more of the pleasure he’s giving you, unable to stop yourself.

And then, you feel it—the tight coil inside you, about to snap again, but this time it’s different. The pleasure so intense it’s almost unbearable. You can feel your muscles clenching around his fingers, wet sounds filling the air as your body responds to him.

“I can’t… I’m going to…” you gasp, but before you can finish, your orgasm crashes over you, more powerful than anything you’ve ever felt before, your body convulsing, your hips bucking wildly against his hand and mouth. A sudden gush of wetness escapes you, your release splashing against his fingers, your muscles spasm with the force of it.

Rafayel freezes for a moment, startled by the intensity of your release, but he doesn’t pull away. His fingers stay inside you, his mouth still working your clit as you ride out the most intense orgasm of your life.

As your release finally subsides, you collapse back against the sand, panting and spent, your body still tingling. Rafayel pulls back, his fingers slipping from your entrance, wet with your release. He looks up at you, awe and a hint of pride in his eyes, as if he can hardly believe what he’s just made you feel.

When you catch the sight of Rafayel’s face, glistening with the remnants of your release, a shy smile tugs at your lips. You reach out, brushing your thumb gently across his cheek, wiping away the wetness. Both of you share a soft, breathy chuckle. Rafayel, his gaze lingering on your lips, leans down slowly. His breath fans across your skin, and then, with a soft press, his lips meet yours. It’s gentle at first, but the moment your lips connect, something shifts. The kiss deepens, grows more urgent, as though all the pent-up desire comes to the surface.

Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him. His lips move against yours, his tongue teasing yours, and you feel the weight of his body pressing against you. His tail shifts in the sand, positioning himself between your legs, his hardened member brushing against your thigh. The contact makes you moan into the kiss, and you both know where this is headed. It feels natural, like this is where you were always meant to end up, like the bond between you has been building toward this moment. Rafayel’s gaze locks onto yours, checking for any sign of hesitation. But all you offer him is a small nod, your body aching to feel him inside you.

He begins to push forward, slow and careful, the head of his throbbing member pressing against your wetness. You can feel the stretch as he starts to ease into you, your body accommodating his size. The sensation is intense, your walls fluttering around him as he gradually sinks deeper. His eyes never leave yours, his brow furrowed in concentration, his mouth slightly parted.

“You… okay?” he asks softly, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

“Yes,” you gasp, your body trembling. “Don’t stop.”

Encouraged, Rafayel moves deeper. Rolling his hips, each thrust pushes him further, until he’s fully within you, his body pressed flush against yours. He stills for a moment, savoring the warmth of your body wrapped around him. His hand moves down to where your bodies are joined, his thumb finding your clit, pressing against it in slow circles. You moan, your hips instinctively bucking against his, the stimulation pushing you closer and closer to the edge again.

Every thrust brings him deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside you, and you can’t hold back any longer. Your orgasm crashes over you, more powerful than the last. Your walls clench tightly around him, drawing him deeper, and you cry out his name. Your entire body shudders with the force of your release. The feeling of you pulsing around him pushes Rafayel over the edge. His thrusts become erratic, his breath ragged. With a deep groan, he buries himself inside you, his body shaking as his own orgasm overtakes him.

As the last hints of pleasure fade from your bodies, the night air settles around you, cool and soothing against your flushed skin. Rafayel’s body remains pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with your own as he holds you close. Your legs are still tangled with his tail, the beautiful texture of his scales brushing against your thighs, grounding you in this moment.

Rafayel presses a tender kiss to your temple. His lips trail down to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth, and you turn your head, meeting him in a soft, languid kiss. Neither of you speaks for a long moment, simply resting in the aftermath. Rafayel shifts slightly, easing out of you carefully, and you can’t help but shiver at the loss of connection. He watches your face for any sign of discomfort, but all you offer him is a lazy smile.

A faint blush lingers on his cheeks, and his lips curve into a small, sheepish smile. "You not hurt?"

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "No," you reply, your voice gentle. "Not at all. That was… wonderful."

He exhales in relief and chuckles softly. "Good."

You move to rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer, as if he can’t bear to let go just yet.

Then, after a few moments, you both start to chuckle, the sound light and easy. "I… didn’t think this would happen," you admit with a smile. "Not like this. Not tonight."

Rafayel hums in agreement. "You… so different. So... human," he adds with a playful smirk, but his tone softens. "And yet…"

You smile, lifting your head slightly to meet his gaze, finishing for him. "And yet, it feels right." Rafayel’s lips curve into a slow, gentle smile, and he leans down, his breath warm against your skin as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "Yes," he whispers. "It… feels right."

For a long time, you simply lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, your bodies warm and comfortable against the cool night air. Rafayel’s fingers continue to caress your skin, his touch tender and slow.

"Stay close," he whispers after a while, his voice barely audible, as if he’s speaking to himself, as if the thought of distance—any distance—is unbearable. His arms tighten around you, his embrace full of warmth and need.

You smile against his chest, nuzzling closer. "I’m not going anywhere," you murmur back. And you mean it. Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together.

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