โโ .โฆ As always, please take this with a grain of salt. These are my own personal prediction based on their rotations for the last 2 years. No inside information or anything (but Iโm really confident tho) hope this can be some kind of guideline for anyone who needs this for planning your pull and stuffs ๐ซถ๐ผ
I also made a prediction video on my YouTube channel here if you prefer to listen to it in the background
Dragon!Sylus who has never left his lair before, never met a human before. All he has know about humans is through the horror tales of the dragons before him who were hunted down by these humans and their torches of fire. So he swears to never step out of his lair, guards his hoard of treasure tightly and any human who comes across him is frightened by the sight alone to never come back again. But then comes Blind!mc who had ran away from home and stumbled through the forest not knowing where she was going, she could hear the wild wolves chasing after her before her feet caught around a bark of a tree and she fell, trembling and afraid not knowing what her fate would be. Dragon!Sylus who had come out of his lair to stretch his wings watches with interest wondering if mc will become the wolf's next food or escape, he had no plans of intervening to save her. That is until he noticed the way how mc wasn't looking at the wolf but to the side, her eyes glassy and frantic before he finally realized that she couldn't see/ So for the first time since Dragon!Sylus watched all his kins around him die, he leapt out of his lair to throw the wolf away from mc who immediately grips his wrist on instinct, her fingers tracing his claws. Yet instead of cowering away like humans usually do, she squeezed his hand tightly and looked up at him with a grateful smile, thanking him for saving her. And that was the moment Dragon!Sylus learns that perhaps all humans are not so bad.
Sylus x nonMC reader who doesnโt get ragebaited easily.
We all know that Sylus is an absolute ragebaiter. So how will he react when you donโt get upset when he teases you?
The first time he did it, he totally expected you to get mad.
โYour hair is a mess sweetie, did you just roll out of bed?โ He asks with a smirk as he observes your reaction.
Your eyes widen as he says this, your mouth opening slightly in surprise. โIs it? Is it really? Is my hair a mess?โ Your words come out in a rush as you take out your phone to check your reflection, smoothing out the stray hairs sticking out.
Sylus blinks, completely caught off guard. He thought you would get upset, since Emcee always got mad whenever he would tease her. So why arenโt you?
Since then, it became his mission to see how far he can push your buttons.
One day, youโre wearing a new shirt that he hasnโt seen before, and he decides to test you again.
โThat colour doesnโt suit you very well, perhaps you should find more clothes that donโt wash you out.โ He says smugly, the corner of his mouth lifting up into his signature smirk.
You blink at him, then look down at your shirt. โReally? But I thought it looked good, and even all my friends said the colour suited me.โ You say contemplatively as you adjust it, not a single hint of anger in your voice.
Okay, so that didnโt work either. Next.
You take a small tumble down the stairs, he helps you up and makes sure youโre okay before striking.
โDid life hit you a little too hard sweetie?โ
You start laughing, because you genuinely find your situation funny. โYeah, I guess it did.โ You sigh as you wipe the tears of laughter from your eyes.
Another time, you couldnโt reach something on the top shelf when he comes up behind you.
โWhatโs wrong? Your short little arms and legs canโt reach?โ
You look up at him with your best puppy eyes. โYeah, so can you help me? Please?โ
Shit. This isnโt good. He thinks to himself.
Sometimes you would straight up ignore him, only giving him the occasional glance before going back to what you were doing. It baffled him to say the least. For the first time, someone was able to withstand his ragebaiting.
And one day, youโre sitting on the sofa on your phone, and heโs saying something about your posture and it isnโt healthy for you if you just keep sitting down all day when you look up at him.
โSylus.โ You say. Calm, collected.
โHm?โ Yes. He thinks. Sheโll finally snap.
Instead, you look at him dead in the eyes, and say in a nonchalant and calm voice, โshut up.โ And then you go back to whatever you were doing on your phone.
You have rendered him absolutely speechless. In all of Sylusโs years of living, never in his life has he ever met someone like you.
The fact that youโre so calm no matter what he says to you, and how you even laugh whenever he makes fun about you in certain things?
ยทยทยทยทยทยทยทโขโฆ description: In which; your vampire boyfriend keeps pushing off your worry for him, but when you find him incredibly weak in bed, you figure out exactly what he needs... And you want to give it to him...
ยทยทยทยทยทยทยทโขโฆ pairing: afab!eader x xavier
ยทยทยทยทยทยทยทโขโฆ word count: 4k
ยทยทยทยทยทยทยทโขโฆ genre: smut, porn with plot, fluff
ยทยทยทยทยทยทยทโขโฆ general tags: Vampire!Xavier, Vampires, Canon Compliant, Still canon compliant, Only difference is vampires lol, Established Relationship, Fluff, Smut, Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Blood Drinking, Xavier is Hungry, Biting, Marking, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Pleasure from Blood Drinking, Multiple Orgasms, Sexual Overstimulation, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, pussy eating, Aftercare, Creampie, POV Second Person, No Use of Y/N for Reader-Insert, Missionary Position, Sitting In Lap, Dirty Talk, Pet Names - starlight & princess
ยทยทยทยทยทยทยทโขโฆ posted on: ao3
The first time you notice the pale tone to Xavierโs skin, he brushes it off with a simple excuse that heโs tired. Knowing what he is, the thought comes to your mind of the other things that could be going on, and you get the inkling that thereโs something else than just mere exhaustion.ย
The second time you see the glassy glow and slightly damp expanse of his skin, you know thereโs something more than meets the eye.ย
His apartment is at a comfortable temperature, but itโs the rise and fall of his chest, paired with the way his lips part in stuttered breaths, that has you crossing your arms, giving him a raised-eyebrow stare. โXavier.โ
โStarlight,โ Xavier responds in a gentle murmur, one hand resting over his eyes.
Heโs lying back on his bed, his robe half-opened to reveal the toned expanse of his chest that is glistening with a light sheen of sweat. With one hand under the pillow, he looks at you with furrowed brows.ย
โThis isnโt just exhaustion.โ The way you continue the argumentโwhich isnโt even an argument, just you telling him an observationโleaves Xavier no choice but to drop his hand over his eyes. The hand under the pillow slips out to lie beside his head, and the other rests weakly on his half-clothed abdomen. Even his breathing is slow, and worry ebbs into your voice. โI can grab some medicine or something for you after wo-โย
โIโm thirsty.โย He cuts you off, not liking the tense deepness of his voice, nor the way you stare at him with wide eyes.
โHuh?โ You donโt catch it the first time, his voice too quiet for you to hear through your own rambling. Dropping your arms, you chew on your bottom lip.
โIโmโฆ thirsty,โ Xavier repeats, his eyes closing as if he didnโt want to see the emotion he expects to cross your face.ย Throughout the year youโve been dating, you know about his vampirism, but all Xavier expects to see when he looks at you are the emotions heโs always seen.
Disgust. Horror. Anger.
But your expression remains neutral.ย As if he just told you he needed a simple glass of water instead of the alternative.
โOh.โ Unsure of what to say next, you step closer, sitting on the edge of his bed. Although he doesnโt outwardly flinch away, you catch the almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw. โWellโฆโย
Silence fills the air, your eyes running along his features. He looks dead. His lips are parted and chapped, his skin pale, and his chest rising and falling slowly with his uneven breaths. It worries you, and while youโre unsure of exactly how to help him, you want to come up with some sort of solution.ย
โIs thereโฆ is there anything I can do to help?โ Your hand reaches out to touch his bicep as it rests across his abdomen, and a shiver shocks your system. Heโs cold. Heโs always warmโฆ Always a personal heater that helps you in the winter months with cuddles under a plush blanket. Now, heโs like a corpse. โYouโre cold.โย
Xavier pauses, twitching at just how hot you feel compared to the chill thatโs settled in his bones. He canโt even remember the last time he had to drink blood, but the hunger that itches in his stomach is a sense of discomfort that he canโt recall feeling. It doesnโt help that youโwarm and aliveโare sitting right next to him.
You, whom heโs spent the better part of two years next to. You, who remind him that heโs more than the label that many associate with vampires. You, who loves him despite all of the tumultuous realizations youโve come to when learning about him, and doesnโt stop demanding nothing but the truth.
Xavier knows he canโt lie. You can read him like your favorite book. So he takes a deep breath, shaking his head. โI donโtโ Itโs been a long timeโ since Iโve had to feed.โ He whispers, almost embarrassingly. โI can usually control my hunger with human foodโฆ You know my preference for meat.โย
Humming, your thumb absentmindedly rubs at his skin in an attempt to calm him down. Heโs explained before that heโs never hungry for blood, that his almost insatiable appetite for meat has somehow helped quell that quiet rumbling deep in his gut.
Even though Xavier tries to hide it behind humor, you can see the sleepy, half-lidded gaze that meets yours. Itโs easy for him to smile, rub the back of his neck as if heโs not burning inside. However, he canโt stop the tremble in his hand that starts to wrap around your wrist.
โIโm fine,โ he says, his voice a mere whisper of what it normally is. In the time youโve been together, youโve realized that heโs a pro at hiding his true emotions. He doesnโt give away too much, and itโs always in passing moments that he reveals the depths of his past or his actual feelings. In fact, heโs gotten infinitely better at showing just you what he needs or wants, but when faced with a hunger so deep it aches in his soul, he canโt let you see that side of him.
You can feel his muscles tense under your hold. โBullshit.โ As your eyes linger on the bulging veins in his neck, you inspect his chest with your other hand. โYouโre very obviously not fine.โ It takes every ounce of restraint in you not to shiver when you rest your entire palm in the middle of his chest. Heโs like a block of ice, prickling at your skin until you have to pull back with a frown.
The idea of him dying over something like this sends you into a panic. He canโt die. He just canโt. โYou need blood.โ The end of your sentence trails off, and your hovering hand finds the edge of his open robe. It doesnโt sit right with you to let him lie here and suffer, especially when thereโs maybe something you can do about itโฆ
The answer is simple, and Xavier catches the gleam in your eye before you can voice your thought.
โNo.โ
โBut Xaviโโ
โStarlight,โ his voice is a hiss now, sharp and unstable as his tremors have become. โI said no.โ Xavierโs jaw is clenched so tight that you can see the muscles flinch under the resistance.
โYou need blood.โ You repeat, staring down at your wrist that holds the answer to his dilemma. โHow else can you get it?โ
He pauses, giving you enough time to sneak another thought in. โItโs not going to hurt me, is it?โ
โQuite the opposite, starlight.โ Xavier rubs a hand across his face. โYouโll feel good. Really good.โ His Adamโs apple bobs, and you reason that heโs imagining you twisting in pleasure as he feeds from you.
โOkayโฆโ Your eyebrow raises, not seeing the issue. โThen letโs do it. Let me help you.โ
Xavier sneaks a glance, his pupils getting larger. โThatโs the thing,โ he mumbles, โonce I get a taste of you, my instincts will take over. I donโt want to take more than you can give me.โ His eyes close once again, covered by his arm as he pulls it from your grasp. โA person who hurts you doesnโt deserve to take from you.โ
Slowly, giving him the opportunity to wrench away, you tiptoe your fingers up his torso. At the first touch of your index finger on his bare abdomen, he tenses, but doesnโt pull away. Actually, he welcomes the lingering warmth that sits on his skin as you make your way up his chest, holding gently to his jaw.
โWhat if I want this person to take from me?โ The whisper sends a shiver through Xavier. โWhat if,โ The pad of your thumb traces his jawline, โI trust that this person would never hurt me?โ
Watching you with heavy eyes, Xavier drags his gaze across your face, seeing that youโre not backing down. With a sigh, he lets both of his arms fall to his sides, lingering so close to your waist but not touching.
โGo on,โ you whisper, moving to straddle his waist. โTouch me.โ The moment your thighs bracket his hips, you both share a soft gasp, speaking without words. Thereโs no mistaking the want that pulses with each beat of your heart, or the inexplicable connection when you nuzzle your nose against his. โI trust you, Xavier.โ
Xavier shudders as your breath hits his lips, and your scent โ god, your scent โ is intoxicating. โPrincess,โ he lifts his head, barely grazing your mouth with his own. โAre you sure?โ The whites of his eyes peek out from beneath his irises, and you find yourself leaning closer.
Before you can speak โ something close to begging โ Xavier dips his head down, kissing the top of your clothed shoulder. His arm wraps around you, his large palm pressing into your upper back. Stealth is Xavierโs greatest weapon, and youโre so mesmerized by his already hard cock pressing against you through his sweatpants that you donโt realize heโs hooking a finger into the collar of your shirt.
Warm lips press to your bare skin, and you cling tighter to him as he gets closer and closer to your neck. Each kiss is accompanied by a sigh, both of knowing youโre so willing to help him like this, to give him part of you, and the thought of sharing something so intimate. Itโs more than sex. Deeper and more passionate. Blood is what keeps you alive, and Xavier is going to sap some of that from you.
โItโll feel good,โ Xavier whispers, his voice husky. โYou might scratch me, or pull my hair.โ He plants another kiss at the apex of your shoulder and neck, sucking at the skin. โDo whatever you need, starlight.โ
You canโt help the natural arch into him, wanting him even closer than he already is. โXavier.โ The whimper is soft, and youโre not sure if itโs the gentle hold he has on you or the subtle grinding of his hips against yours, but youโre more than eager to have him bite you. โPlease.โ
โPatience,โ his grip tightens against the back of your neck, anchoring you there to him. โIโll only take a little.โ The finger hooked into your shirt collar pulls a bit more, but itโs obviously become troublesome for Xavier to get a good grip on you like this. โTake this off.โ
Hands clamber to throw off your shirt, and Xavier takes a moment to admire you, shirtless, in his lap. โYou look gorgeous like this.โ A palm cups the weight of your breast. โLike a fox caught in a bunnyโs trap.โ His lips wrap around one of your nipples, and you respond with a soft moan of his name. Your hand threads through his hair, cupping the back of his head in a way thatโs less controlling and more reassuring.
Xavier takes his sweet time kissing up your chest, making sure to give the same attention to the other nipple, before landing right back at your neck. โNow that thatโs out of the way.โ He kisses the spot right below your ear, and when he speaks, itโs a sinful whisper. โTap the back of my neck if youโre feeling lightheaded.โ
โOkay,โ you whisper, lips cresting the shell of his ear as he takes another weak, shuddering breath. Even as he takes another long inhale of your scent, you shiver in his grasp. He can smell the slight fear radiating from you, the hand in his hair tightening slightly as you close your eyes and relax into him.
โYouโre scared,โ Xavier says it so simply, pulling back to look you in the eyes. Heโs so pale, with an almost translucent hue to his cheeks that means you can almost see the veins under his skin.
โNot of you,โ you whisper, massaging his scalp while the other hand cups his cheek. โIโve never done this before.โ But youโre determined, tilting your head to the side in an open invite. โIโll be okay, trust me.โ
Xavier isnโt easily convinced.
In one quick motion, heโs flipping you onto your back, pressing your bare back into the sheets with a weak gentleness. You keep a steady grip on him, legs wrapped around his hips as he grinds down against you.
โNo.โ His tone deepens, looking down at you with such intensity that you almost melt under him. โI know a way to relax you.โ
Xavier waits for your nod before dipping back down to kiss your neck. For a moment, you almost think heโs going to bite you, but he doesnโt. He moves down your bare chest, kissing over your breasts, making sure both nipples are spit-slicked and thoroughly pleasured. His mouth whispers praises across your stomach, and when he uses his teeth to tug down your shorts, you can see the sharp canines almost glinting in the light.
โYouโre so gorgeous, starlight.โ His hands part your knees, hooking them over his shoulders as he kisses right above the joint. โThank you,โ Xavier whispers, closing his eyes as he kisses slowly up your thigh, close to the seat of your panties. โFor letting me do this.โ
A sharp nip of his teeth at your thigh has your hand shooting down to thread through his hair, but his tongue immediately soothes the sting. Itโs not enough to draw blood, not yet, but your answering moan of his name spurs Xavier further.
His lips press against the seat of your panties, feeling how wet you are through the fabric. โAll this for me?โ He teases, sitting up on his knees and toying with the waistband of your underwear. In one swoop, heโs maneuvering them off of you, leaving the only article of clothing on either of you, the sweatpants hanging low on Xavierโs hips. Where he discarded his robe, you donโt know, but as his breath ghosts over your pussy, you donโt find it in yourself to care.
โAll for you,โ you whimper at the first long lick through your folds that Xavier delivers, collecting your arousal on his tongue. The groan he lets out is sinful, defying the laws of heaven and hell for a taste of his angel lying under him.
โYour blood,โ Xavier dips his tongue into your entrance, the tip of his nose teasing your clit. โWill not compare to how good your pussy tastes.โ With his eyes closed, body nearly flat on the mattress, hips grinding down to soothe a fraction of the ache in his pants, he looks like heโs praying.
Xavier continues to feast, eating you out with a fervor that is concerning with how cold his hands are as they plant on your thighs, or the still pale complexion. Especially the labored breaths he takes when heโs buried face-first in your pussy.
โXavierโโ your thoughts are cut off when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, being mindful of his still distended fangs so he doesnโt nick you. โDonโt, fuโck, donโt overdoโ it.โ The last thing you want is for him to pass out, or worse, while youโre grinding onto his face.
He mumbles something unintelligible, not wanting to part from your essence for too long. โIโm okay,โ Xavier murmurs, his breath coming out deep and slow. โIโll be fine.โ His heart is beating just a second slower, sure, but all that matters is that your thighs are closing around his head, and your fingers tug strands of silver hair out right at the root. โCome for me, princess.โ
When he goes back for more, tracing the tip of his tongue around your entrance while flicking his nose over your clit, your vision blanks. All you can focus on is Xavierโs tongue everywhere, his icy cold hands anchoring you in the fire as he holds you still.
โGood girl.โ You donโt register that heโs hovering over you until you can taste yourself on his tongue, slick spreading over your swollen lips as you mindlessly push at his sweatpants.
โShhhh,โ he soothes you with a final kiss, pulling back just enough so your hand doesnโt reach his bulge. โLet me do this.โ
Lying back on the bed, you watch as he strips himself of his sweatpants, your ears ringing and pulsing with your own heartbeat. Blood rushes through your eardrums, and if his nipping at your thigh felt good, you can only imagine what his actual bite will feel like.
Youโre so pliant that Xavier easily parts your thighs for him to settle between, the tip of his cock tracing your folds and teasing you just enough to pull a desperate whimper from you. Reaching up, you hook your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until your noses bump.
โPlease,โ you plead, wrapping one leg around him as you beg. โDo it.โ The side of your head tilts, exposing the same expanse of skin Xavier was previously ready to sink his fangs into.
โI will,โ he soothes you with a kiss to the tip of your nose, a weak smile curling at his lips as he finally, finally sinks into your warmth. โFuckโฆโ
You watch the emotions flicker through him as you yourself submit to the pleasurable stretch of his cock. Inch by inch, you tilt your hips up, sharing breaths until his pelvis goes flush against yours.
โGood?โ He asks, studying you and listening to your heartbeat. Itโs much calmer than before, no hint of fear. Instead, itโs only anticipation and a desperation to help him. โRememberโฆ What I said earlierโฆโ Xavier leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your pulse point. โTap the back of my neckโโ
โIf Iโm feeling lightheaded.โ You finish his earlier ask with a sigh. โI know, I know.โ Shimmying your hips, you groan when you feel just how full you are. โIโll be okay, trust me.โ
Xavier nods, his hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzles further against you. His entire body presses against yours, and there isnโt a part of you that doesnโt feel him. Not in the tips of your fingers threaded through his hair, or the tense muscles of his lower back felt by your feet digging into him.
With one long breath, Xavier bites, and your whole world explodes.
Fire and ice curl together, racing through your veins in a race to fill every part of you. First, itโs the slight sting of his teeth sinking into you, but itโs immediately coupled by prickling electricity surging across your skin, raising the little hairs on your arms in their wake.
The only thing you can manage is a soft, โXavierโ, as he drinks, your body clenching around him. Your pussy tightens around his cock, and Xavier, in turn, groans into you, his hips working in slow thrusts to help you cope with the intensity of this.
Itโs intimate, more intimate than youโve been together despite going through all of the normal couple milestones. But this is more than that. Itโs about sharing life with him, and you would do it ten times over if it meant you could have your Xavier with you.
Xavier can feel your heart racing, beating through his fangs as he closes his eyes and relishes the warmth that fills him. His hands are no longer biting cold, and color returns to his once translucent cheeks.
He can barely think about anything except your pussy wrapped around his cock and your sweet blood filling his throat. Itโs the greatest elixir, his own personal alcohol that will leave him dizzy and flushed with happiness. Heโs never been one to drink alcohol โ it doesnโt affect vampires as much as it does humans, and tastes gross โ but from seeing people stumbling through alleys at night, he can guess that itโs a high like no other.
But this? This is his second favorite taste, only behind your pussy.
โFuโck,โ your back arches into him, a sudden chill passing through you as pleasure crests to an overwhelming degree. Itโs part overstimulation from your previous orgasm added to this impending one, but also heightened from whatever sensations that Xavierโs drinking does to your body. โIโmโฆโ
You canโt finish your sentence, words fail you the moment you let your body go, transcending to another plane as you clutch at Xavier like a lifeline. His back is the perfect place to count your score, drawing lines of red over his flexing muscles as he fucks into you with each slow suck of his mouth over your neck.
Itโs impossible to feel anything else but the twitching of his cock inside you, and his own muffled groans against you as he falls over the edge alongside you. He fills you to the brim, but you donโt feel the slight trickle of come leaking from you when the tips of your fingers start to run a little coldโฆ
Xavier realizes whatโs happening before you tap the back of his neck. Itโs not that youโre getting lightheaded. In fact, itโs the opposite. You feel connected to everything around you, especially Xavier. His scent wraps around you, soothing you into a strange sense of safety that you havenโt felt before. Sure, you always feel safe around him, but itโs like his bite has opened doors that you didnโt know could be opened to you.
โStarlight?โ Xavier cups your cheeks, staring down at you with wide eyes as he pulls out of you and frantically checks your body for signs of the worst. โAre you okay?โ
You lie there for a moment, watching Xavier press his cheek against your palm and finding it slightly cold. โMhm,โ you hum, smiling at him like a patient coming back from anesthesia. โIโm great.โ Your voice is weaker than before, but youโre completely coherent as Xavier runs his hands up and down your sides. โYouโre warm again.โ
With a sigh of relief, Xavier rests his forehead on your collarbone, listening to your heartbeat stabilize into a normal rhythm. โAll thanks to you.โ He kisses your sweaty skin, finding the exact spot where your very human heart reminds him how alive you are, and how fragile you can be in the arms of someone like him.
โStay right there,โ Xavier suddenly stands, slipping his sweatpants back on.
Still in the same position he left you in, you give him a weak thumbs up. โโm not going anywhere, handsome.โ
Xavier mumbles something with a blushing smile before rushing out to the kitchen. The sound of running water, rummaging cabinets, and drawers continues until he steps back into his room with a bottle of juice, a damp cloth, and a small fruit snack.
โHere.โ He sets the food and drink on the nightstand, focusing first on wiping off the sticky sweat, come, and saliva from your body with gentle precision. Xavier is meticulous, and yes, heโs incredibly aroused by how beautiful you look right now, with healing bite marks on your neck, a satiated smile on your face, and trusting eyes that only look for him. However, he knows that itโs important to take care of you properly, especially after drinking so much of your blood.
โYouโre the best,โ you murmur through heavy-lidded eyes and a stupidly wide smile. You let Xavier prop you up on the headboard, grab one of his shirts from his dresser, and help you slip into it.
โI disagree,โ he counters, sitting on the bed beside you and bringing the bottle of juice to your lips. โYouโre the best girlfriend I could ask for.โ
Staring at him from the corner of your eye, you flicker your gaze between him and the juice. โI can do it myselfโฆโ
โI know. But I want to do this for you.โ The way he speaks, so softly and gently, but still with a stern determination, has you relenting. His other hand skims the remnants of his fangs. โThese will go away in a few hours.โ
You let your head fall to his shoulder, opening your mouth and chewing on the bite of food he places on your tongue. โMmmm,โ you groan in satisfaction, reaching down to squeeze his bicep. โI donโt mind themโฆ Theyโre kinda bad-ass, huh? I got bit by a vampire and survived.โ
โYouโre so funny,โ Xavier says in a monotone voice, but breaks at a small chuckle.
โBut really,โ you turn your head to look at Xavier, smiling at him. โI would gladly do it again, whenever youโre hungryโฆ Especially if I get that kinda treatment.โ
Xavier groans, but pecks your lips. โOf course, starlight. Whatever you wish.โ
you think that you're so alone in the world then you read literature from hundreds of years ago and you realize that other people have always felt this way
To celebrate day 30 and 600 days with Rafayel, I wanted to draw something inspired by the card that made me fall in love with his character ๐ฉท Specifically the line "Join me, then. Let's drown in the ocean. Together." I was so intrigued by Raf at this point that I broke my No Gacha rule ๐๐ญ
In the end I'm glad I did. ๐ฅน This silly game has helped me a lot over the last year and a half, and I've gotten to meet a lot of really cool and inspiring people ๐
I'm so grateful to all my moots and everyone who's followed me during this challenge!! I'm gonna keep going for as long as I can manage (quality isn't always guaranteed.๐ฆ my main focus is comms atm).
And requests are always open!! I might not always get to them immediately, but feel free to leave any ideas in the comments ๐๐ฉท
Since the new kitty banner is out, I saw a lot of people drawing how the others would react if MC turn into a cat. Everyoneโs interaction is cutesy but Raf is so scared and doesnโt know what to do with MC. I get that we keep joking about Raf being scared of cats.
But instead of being scared, I think he just pretend to be. I mean, a sea god who have live for hundreds of year being scared of cats?
Itโs more like he saw an opponent. Since he always act cute to get what he wants and now thereโs this furry little gremlin stealing MCโs attention โhow dare you acting cute in front of my bride?!โ And tried to compete by being scared.
So if MC is a kitty. I donโt think he would get confused between feeling scared or not. He would gobble us right up.
Thinking of deity Rafayel who has to mimic human behaviour just to make you feel at least. Heโs very capable of walking through this life without the rise and fall of his chest taking in air, but just for the sake of your little head leaning onto him, he mimics your breathing pace, forcing his heart to beat in tune with yours.
Sometimes, he has to remind himself to blink, especially when heโs with you. Youโve mentioned it once or twice in passing that his gaze isโฆ intense. Staring at you like heโs trying to memorise every single little detail, from the curve of your lips to how many strands of hair dip from your fringe-
Rafayel would just laugh then, a dry sound. Before he follows up with a snarky little quip about how mesmerised he is by you. But then on, he reminds himself to blink. Slowly, carefully, like a beast trying to appear harmless.
Itโs hard for a deity to understand how a human feels. But masquerading as one comes a lot easier.
Rafayel would gladly put on a show of normalcy, if it meant that his presence could be your norm.
alpha rafayel and alpha caleb work together to free lemurians from omega auctions. but during a routine rescue operation, rafayel finds himself uncharacteristically sidetracked.
when he returns to the car, he carefully deposits a trembling human omega in the backseat. caleb has questions.
masterlist | read on ao3
Itโd been three months since the last Lemurian had appeared at auction. Three months since their last successful rescue. It consumes him: saving them; sparing them from a fate often far worse than their human counterparts. Human omegas at least had a chance of being treated with kindness. Rafayel knew well that was not the case for his people.
In two nights, there would be another auction with a Lemurian as the centrepiece.
Rafayel buries his hands in the deep pockets of his heavy winter coat, careful with his footing on the icy concrete as he makes his way across the carpark. A spattering of other late arrivals are also making the frigid trek towards the building lit up ahead of him. Some are in groups, loud in their shared excitement for the night ahead. Some walk alone, like himโdark figures with bowed heads.
This auction house ran itโs events the way most mid-sized operations did. Weekend one-day auctions were routine, and when they got their hands on a Lemurian, theyโd hold a special event that operated over multiple nights. Starting with a few nights of regular human offerings and culminating in one night focused on the Lemurianโs sale. These multi-night events would give Caleb and Rafayel time to scout the places out and figure out their plan of attack.
Tonight was the first night of bidding. All human lots. All Rafayel had to do was get a layout of the place, look for weaknesses. It was always worth being thorough, leaving the door open for lucky opportunities. At one of their first rescuesโa smaller establishment unused to the attention a Lemurian lot would bringโheโd been lucky enough to swipe a set of keys and walked right out of the place with his target under his arm.
If only it was always that easy.
It had gotten progressively worse since then. The more they rescued, the more paranoid the auction houses and buyers became. Eventually, theyโd need another approach entirely. But for now, the routine worked: pre-auction viewing to send a warning to their target, scouting the venue, snatch the target during post-auction exchange.
Pre-auction viewing usually commenced a week before the big night. Rafayel and Caleb would enter during the busier hours, with the crowds. Rafayel would make sure the little omega had spotted him among the bodies that circled their small viewing enclosure. It would ensure cooperation when they did come for them. Theyโd see the Sea Godโs glowing eyes among the crowd gathered around their cages, and theyโd know He would be coming for them. Theyโd know to be ready. Not to be afraid.
Shrugging his shoulders up, he fills his lungs with his last taste of the crisp winter air before slipping past a loud group of alphas clogging up the entranceโentering the overwhelming chaos of the auction hall. Theyโre always dark, noisy and overwhelming. It was intentional. They wanted people to feel invisible. To encourage even the most self-conscious, guilty, morally-conflicted spectators and potential buyers through their doors.
Rafayel finally escapes the bottleneck of bodies near the entrance and presses himself into a gap at the back wall. Itโs slightly elevated, allowing him to make a scan of the large venue and make note of exits and layout.
โAll good?โ Caleb questions through Rafayelโs earpiece.
โAll good,โ he replies. โThereโs an armed guard at each door. Pretty standard.โ
โKeeping the serious security out the back,โ Caleb adds, sounding calm. โEventually, theyโll get so lazy in the auction rooms, I wonโt be able to resist grabbing them directly from the stage.โ A puff of air buzzes through Calebโs microphone. โI doubt they are paying the kids in there enough to even try and shoot me on the way out.โ
โYeah, well, as long as theyโre armedโโ
โToo many bystanders,โ he interrupts. โI know. Iโm the one who talked you out of the idea, remember?โ
The loud thrum of a room packed with at least a thousand excited people lifts louder as a group of omegas shuffle onto the stage. Itโs nothing new to Rafayel. Heโd probably seen more omegas in his life than most alphas alive. Itโs so routine that the sharp anger that rattled him during their first few rescues had long-since dulled into a festering pit of disgust.
Only humans could do this to their own.
He watches the bidding from the shadows, eyes flicking across each terrified face lit up by blinding stage lights. At least the intense lights offered the tiny trembling humans a little heat. They always looked so cold.
Once the bidding well and truly stirs up the crowd, and all eyes are on the entertainment, he makes his way through the crowd. Make mental notes of exits, security rotations, any points of weakness. Then he could get the fuck out.
He finds an alpha slumped against one of the emergency exit doors, head hanging between bent knees. It was early in the night be knocked out by drink, but heโd seen worse.
There shouldโve been a security guard here, like at the other emergency exits. They are always quick to toss inebriated bodies out into the night, so the door had been unguarded at least as long as the man had been slumped against it. Rafayel slinks back into the crowd, checks his watch, and waitsโeyes flicking between the stage and the unguarded door.
Each lot is sold, one after the other, tiny human offerings pulled off stage when each of them is done facing their fate and hearing their monetary value.
Rafayel waits. Patient. Focused.
The unconscious alpha slumps over onto his side.
He checks his watch. 10 minutes without intervention from any security.
A point of weakness.
Calebโs words rattle around in his head. At some point, the risk would have to be taken. Their approach was getting too predictable, and opportunities like this were too tempting to pass up.
The crowd jostles him a little as a new group is bought on stage, eager to get a good look at the new batch. Unlike them, Rafayel is focused on the man at the door. Another alpha steps out of the sea of bodies and kneels down in front of him.
He canโt tell if the man is security or a good samartian. His line of sight is obscured with the movement of the crowd, and when he attempts to shove his way closer to his point of interest, an elbow nearly smacks him in the jaw.
An impassioned alpha shouts out a bidโroars itโdirectly in Rafayelโs ear. Then he raises his numbered paddle with equal enthusiasm, and Rafayel is forced to dodge it.
Itโs enough to break his focus on his task. Itโs only for a moment. His eyes instinctively flick up to the stage, towards the focus of the manโs eager attention.
Thatโs all it takes.
One moment of distraction, and his life is thrown off-course.
The ringing in his ear, caused by the manโs roar, seems to spread to the other without any cause. He can hear nothing around him. Just a dull hum and a high pitched whine echoing in his skull.
Youโre dressed like the rest of them: a flimsy shapeless unbleached piece of fabric hangs off you, ending just above your knees. Itโs almost sheer. Almost. It gives the impression that if the lighting was a little different, it would be.
Itโs all intentional.
Everything about how you are presented to the crowd is intentional. Even down to the slightly raggedy nature of the dress. Omegas of all genders wear the same little sack. It makes them lookโฆ in need, wanting; clean and kept butโฆ unloved. To nurture and provide was an instinctual desire for alphas. A need these evil fucks hoped to trigger in potential buyers.
Rafayel had laughed, hollow and bitter, the first time heโd realised all the tiny insidious ways they were targeting alpha instincts. โHow human,โ heโd spat, releasing his frustration at Caleb as heโd slammed the car door closed.
โWhat is?โ Caleb had asked, starting the engine.
Rafayel hadnโt known how to answer. It was one of his first times in a place like that. He couldnโt process it: how theyโฆ how humans had so successfully ignored their own protective instincts to cause harm to the very people they were supposed to protect. Not just individually. As a whole society, in an organised manner. They were ignoring their own instincts enough to cause harm but were still aware enough of them to be able to weaponise them against each other.
โCruelty,โ Rafayel had muttered in response, suddenly finding himself too drained to offer any other explanation.
Frozen in place, with his ears still ringing, Rafayel drags his eyes over you now, searching. He doesnโt know what heโs searching for. You have something he needs.
Searching.
Searching.
The trembling girl to your left darts her hand out to grasp yours as her sale is finalised with a slam of the gavel. A flood of adrenaline floods his system as Rafayelโs eyes snap to the sudden movement on stage like itโs a threat. Thereโs no threat, his rational mind shouts.
Someone shoves into him.
He stumbles forward.
The girl grasping your hand is scanning the crowd. Maybe searching for her new owner, or maybe for the exitโone last desperate, hopeless instinctive look towards freedom.
Thereโs a tug somewhere deep inside him, reminding him he should be looking at exits too. Thatโs what heโd been doing. He had a task. A man slumped across the emergency exit closest to him. Heโd been distracted from his task. His neck even twitches a little at the thought, like his body wants to turn towards the exit, but finds itself paralysed by an invading parasitic host that has taken control.
His ears are still ringing.
Your lot number is called next.
Rafayel doesnโt hear it.
Youโre entirely still, like him, eyes fixed over the crowd.
He wonders if the lights are hurting your eyes.
The girl beside you is tugged away, and when she reluctantly releases her grasp on you, your arm hovers awkwardly out from your sideโstiff and unnatural.
Heโs never seen you before.
He searches his memory desperately for any trace of you.
Nothing.
So why does he knows you.
Heโs looking at a face heโs never seen before in his life and feeling instead like heโs looking at someone precious to him. Not just precious. Someone resurrected from the dead. Itโs a flood of emotion like heโd been missing you for lifetimes and had now, finally, found you. His emotions are incongruent with reality to such a degree, he wonders if maybe heโs dreaming, or dead.
A bony elbow jabs into his ribs hard enough to bruise.
Sound floods back into his skull.
The auctioneer is shouting numbers out across the hall. The current going price.
Your price.
You are being bid on.
Someone is about to own youโtake you away.
The voice in his ear snaps the tension in his body like a jolt of electricity, and itโs only his years of masking all his emotionโof keeping his cool in places like thisโthat prevents him giving any physical indication at all that heโd been startled.
โStatus update,โ his partner says through his earpiece, business as usual.
Heโs asking.
Itโs a request for information.
Rafayel is aware he should answer.
His eyes settle on your clenched fist, grasping tightly to the fabric of your dress now that youโve lost your one hand to hold. That hand was gone now. Sold.
Rafayel lifts his sleeve to his mouth to communicate with his partner. โCall in and bid on lot 520,โ he orders, letting no trace of his dazed state leak into his voice. โSecure her.โ
A beep. Another beep. The line opening and closing. A buzz of empty static fills his ear. Caleb had opened the line and let silence hang.
The buzz cuts off.
A second or two of dead line.
Then, โSecure lot 520?โ
This wasnโt normal. Nothing about this was normal. There was no precedent for this. They didnโt participate in the auctions. Ever.
Rafayel watches as the auctioneer searches for a higher offer, gavel raised like a threat. Dread turns his gut inside out, his eyes flicking between you and the lanky man threatening to take you away forever.
โDo it now,โ he hisses, panicked.
His heart thumps rapidly in his chest as he imagines you being dragged offโฆ to be collected by some other alpha. A feral urge to surge through the mass of bodies and climb up onto the stage runs like an electric current through his muscles, shocking him still. He even considers the unguarded door with the drunken man. Fuck bystanders. Heโs a man suddenly afraid of himselfโout of controlโparalysed in that microsecond before fight or flight.
The lanky auctioneer points his gavel at a woman at one of the phones with her hand raised. Caleb had called. The tension leaves Rafayelโs body in a flood that nearly brings him to his knees. Caleb has an instruction, and he wouldnโt fail him. He knows it now like heโs always known it. It was one of two things he grasped onto in his darkest hours: the ocean and itโs people were his, his responsibility; and Caleb would never, ever fail him.
He begins to weave through the crowd, partially freed from his paralysis. He can move his body freely, but only towards you, and his eyes never leave you. Drawn towards you like prey hypnotised by a glowing light pulsing in dark ocean depths.
The noise around him dulls to a muffled buzz again, entirely tuned out.
Heโs close enough now to see your fingers are pale at the tips as you squeeze white fabric like a lifeline. He wants to reach out and pry them freeโto hold your hand in hisโtransfer them to the lifeline he could offer instead.
Your eyes are still fixed at the back of the hall. He doubts you can see anything at all with the stage lights pounding down on you. Still, he looks up at you, and wills you to see him. His lips move with his silent pleas. Look at me, he begs. Over and over.
The gavel drops.
Sold.
It looks like a string snapping. Like youโd been a puppet, forced by your invisible master to keep your body held up on the stage in one position, and now, released, the lifeless puppet pools into a mess of limbs on the floor.
He has to press his nails into his palms until heโs sure he bleeds to stop himself giving into his urge to jump the barrier and climb the stage. Maybe Caleb was right. Maybe no one in the room cared enough to shoot him.
But if they did, they could hit you.
He watches as two men step out from the shadows, lift you up, and carry you away.
The moment you slip behind the curtain, out of his sight, he staggers back, his own string snapping.
Thereโs a big dark empty pit inside him. One that had existed before heโd entered this hall. How was it possible he hadnโt paid it much mind before now? He can feel the shape of it, the depth, the space it carves out from his flesh.
Calebโs saying something in his ear again. The final price. The price they had paid.
โCan I get her now?โ Rafayel fires back in response, breathless. Heโs shoving his way through bodies as he fails entirely to keep the desperation from his tone. Caleb will know something is very wrong if he hadnโt before. This isnโt how their missions usually go. Itโs not how theyโve ever gone before. Not in all the years their years together.
Silence.
And then, โIโll finalise it and send you the authorisation to collect her.โ A pause. โShould I remain in place?โ It sounds like many questions in one.
Rafayel knows, even if his frenzied state, itโs only the trust and bond between them that saves him from an on-the-spot interrogation through his earpiece.
โYes,โ Rafayel responds, bursting through the crowd of bodies and into open space, breathless. โStay in place. Weโll be out.โ
We.
Him andโฆ you.
He presses his palm to the cool concrete wall, catching his breath and regaining his composure. The noise and chaos floods back around him slowly, a welcome distraction from the throbbing pit of absence in his chest.
Thereโs a ramp to his right, leading down into the collection hall.
He straightens his coat and tie and makes his descent, composure restoredโat least to any eyes that happen to pass over him.
When his hands start trembling, he shoves them in his deep coat pockets.
Steel mesh separates his walkway from another. The one mirroring his descent, ascends up to a separate exit, where newly purchased lots could be led out by eager owners without having to battle through the bustling, inebriated, crowd in the auction hall.
A towering man passes him on that other ramp, separated from Rafayel by mesh, and trailed by a shivering figure in white. Rafayel scowls, eyes catching on the little omegas bare feet.
They didnโt even clothe them properly for collection.
It was mid-winter outside. Cold enough to see his own breath as heโd marched from the car to the entrance. He shoves his hands deeper in his coat pockets at the memory. Pausing, he fishes out his discovery: a woollen beanie buried in the deepest corner of his right pocket. It was one of Calebโs, likely stuffed into one of Rafayelโs pockets out of convenience during a previous outing. He shoves the hat back down again and tries not to think about how Caleb will react when he discovers Rafayel has no explanation for what heโs done.
He sits in the waiting area, staring at his phone in anticipation of authorisation paperwork, and slowly, gradually, returns to himself. His heart rate steadies along with his trembling hands.
What the fuck had just happened to him?
Mates were fairytales. A fantasy long relegated to the pastโbefore omegas had faced a population decline so sudden and catastrophic, the entire structure of human society had cruelly shifted to compensate. There was no space for the fantasy of finding YOUR omega. Not in the corrupted hell humans had built for themselves.
His phone buzzes in his hand. Rafayel sucks in a steadying breath as he refocuses on his task: collect you, get out. Until you were physically by his side, outside this pit of moral decay and desperation, he wouldnโt take an easy breath. He clenches his palms and swallows the anxiety down, and by the time he catches your scent in his nostrils, heโs a picture of calm composure.
He knows itโs your scent before he sees you, like he recognised a face he was seeing for the first time. Itโs so familiar, it feels like a childhood memory. All emotion without the details.
Youโre still dressed solely in that scrap of almost-sheer natural white fabric. And with a gentle shove from the woman who had led you out, you shuffle to stand at his side. Youโre all-consuming presence beside him feels entirely out of proportion with the reality of you: tiny, cowering, and shivering.
He hadnโt noticed you shivering on stage. Either he was too far away or you were colder now. Or more afraid. His stomach flips at the thought. Why wouldnโt you be afraid of him? He was your new captor. Another in a long line for an omega born into a world such as theirs. And for all you knew, he wanted something more from you than anyone that had come before him. Thatโs what people bought omegas for, after all. He swallows, suppressing a wave of nausea.
Refocusing on his mission of getting the fuck out of the place, he shakes a clammy hand over a desk, collects a large envelope containing his certificate of ownership, and leads you towards the rampโhyperaware of any potential threat between you and the exit.
He resists looking down at you as he leads you up that ramp towards your freedom. He knows youโll be feeling anything but free.
Rightly so, really.
The envelope feels heavy in his hands.
Thereโs a small seating area at the top of the ramp, tucked a little to the side, out of the way of any natural route to exit the building. He quickly leads you into the small nook, drops the envelope on the floor and begins to tug his coat off, rushed and pumping with adrenaline now the exit is so near. You stumble back a step, clearly startled by his frenzied attempt to free himself of the heavy wool.
He freezes, the heavy coat hanging from one arm, paralysed in response to your little display of fear.
Nausea wracks him again.
He takes a shaky breath, forced to inhale a lungful of your fear in the process. Bitter.
You were so afraid. Afraid of him.
โItโs cold outside,โ he starts, gently. โIโm just going to put this on you, okay?โ
Your eyes are fixed at his feet, and you are entirely unmoving. Apart from an uncontrolled tremble as a shiver racks your small frame.
You arenโt running, or stepping further back. Thatโll have to do.
His hands tremble, matching you, as he drapes the heavy coat over your shoulders. He hesitates, suddenly nervous about releasing its full weight onto you. An image of your crumpled body under the stage lights flashes in his mind, unwelcome.
But then you thread your arms into the sleeves and wrap the oversized coat around yourself, cocooning yourself in the remnants of his body heat still clinging to the fibres.
A little marble of warm light rolls into that dark pit inside him, bouncing in the bottom, echoing. Heโs done something good for youโprovidedโand you liked it.
He could do so much more. God, he wants you to know how much heโs willing to do.
You lift your shoulders up a little and tuck your chin into the cocoon youโve made, like youโre attempting to bury yourself in the cashmere.
The beanie.
He takes a small step. Then hesitates. โIโm justโโ He moves like a stalking cat trying not to startle a mouse. โโgetting a beanie from the pocket.โ
A painstakingly slow dip of his hand into the nest youโve made around yourself, and then he steps back quickly, successful in his delicate extraction.
โCan Iโฆโ he trails off, gesturing awkwardly with the navy blue beanie. Itโs covered in Calebโs scent, flooding Rafayelโs senses with a comforting familiarly as he waves it in front of him.
No shuffling away. Thatโll do, he supposes.
Slowly, he lowers the beanie over your head, finger brushing the shell of your ear.
Your eyes snap up to meet his.
He freezes.
Heโs bent over at an awkward angle, arms acting as a bridge between your bodies, held stiff where heโd been working to arrange the hat so it wouldnโt fall down over your eyes.
You blink up at him, eyes watery, either from the cold or emotion. He wishes he knew which.
It wouldnโt be until much later that heโd fully process it, but something about the way you look at him now triggers the first stages of a spiralling thought: Why did he instruct Caleb to bid on you? Why had he so instinctively side-stepped all his long festering disgust and participated in the human torture system instead of snatching you from your buyerโs hands like they did will all their Lemurian rescues? The envelope with the papers certifying his ownership of you slides under his boot on the floor as he shifts his weight. Whatโฆ the fuckโฆ had he done?
A small, cold, trembling hand snaps him from his spiralling thoughts.
You cup his wet cheek, arm extended towards him, mirroring the way his arms still bridge the distance between you.
โI wonโt hurt you,โ he promisesโa little broken noise. It comes out of him like a plea for mercy.
Your lashes flutter as you blink a few times. Then you nod, retracting your hand back into your cocoon.
Heโs hardly breathing as he begins moving again, careful not to touch your skin. You let him arrange the hat carefully on your head, staying still as he delicately moves your hair out of your face in his final touches.
Then he steps back, admiring his work.
His satisfaction is short-lived.
Your feet are bare.
Slowly, he lowers himself to one knee, crumpling the large envelope that now sports a large boot mark on itโs cover. He looks up at you. โWill you let me carry you to the car?โ he asks, again, sounding much like a man begging for mercy.
You take a small step backwards.
He goes stiff.
He stops himself reaching out.
โI wonโt hurt you,โ he says, repeating his pledge. โAnd I wonโt ever touch you if you donโt want me to. Itโs just very coldโprobably colder than it was when I came inโand you donโt have shoes.โ He watches you look down at your feet, like you hadnโt noticed. โIโm sorry I didnโt bring any,โ Rafayel adds, finding himself unable to stop speaking, desperately seeking the right words. โThis wasnโtโฆ the plan. I wasnโt ready for you.โ
You shuffle towards him.
Itโs a tiny little movement, hardly closing any distance between you at all.
He holds his breath.
Watches your face.
Your chin dips.
Heโs almost afraid to rise to his feet. But then you take another small step closer, and suddenly, he desperately wants to be out of this place. He wants to take you home, where itโs safe and warm and he can finally process what was happeningโhow his life had just changed forever.
He snatches the crumpled envelope from the floor, bends it in half, and shoves it in one of his back pockets. Then, just before he can take a cautious step towards you, the hand that had rested on his cheek so gently, slips out to tuck a little stray clump of hair behind your ear. He can feel your touch on his cheek still, lingering, and he suddenly finds himself desperate for the chilled night air on his face.
With calm movements, careful not to spook you, he scoops you up: a delicate bundle wrapped in soft wool.
You tuck you chin into your chest and curl in on yourself, and he makes sure heโs got a secure hold on you, aware you arenโt holding onto him at all. It was all on him, and idea of you relying on him so fully, even in his little way, triggers another little marble of warmth to roll into that deep dark pit inside him.
Then he catches the scent of you, stronger than ever before. Thereโs something else in it now. Something new. Itโs not all bitterness, like it had been up until now. He canโt decide what it is exactly. One day, heโd know your feelings like he knew his own. For now, all he knows is that little tinge of something new isโฆ sweet. And sweet had to be good.
So he presses you to his chest, up against where those two little warm marbles roll around inside him, turns to shove the heavy door open with his back, and marches out into the clear winter night.
Nature Documentary: these deep sea creatures can withstand crushing pressures of thousands of pounds per square inch!
Me: theyโre not withstanding a goddamn thing. The pressure is a part of them. Their interiors and exteriors are equalized. Just because your respiratory system is built around a pair of fragile poppable bubbles-
