It's on AShello !! does anyone know where i could find the final version of gilded shadows? i checked f95 but no lucki swear it was on here or there a few months ago and now i cant find it. i could be searching in the wrong places maybe?
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- Thread starter Itachi the Kinslayer
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hello !! does anyone know where i could find the final version of gilded shadows? i checked f95 but no luck
This is my file
Here.
I would shoot him a DM, but my membership is ending in a few hours, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back on.
Sorry about that. Hopefully someone else has it so he can also redo these NSFW ABCs.
And to pay for my sins, I'm going to commit sepukku.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after ***)
In short? Immediately after he's very lazy, he'd like to cuddle for a bit, but it doesn’t last forever. Rebel will savor you though.
Rebel’s body is taut. Against the car seat he takes rapid hungry breaths of air. Eyes screwed shut as the last waves of pleasure wash over him. You have to hold his hips down until the ecstasy washes away. Rebel’s hands are gripped so tight against the seat that the leather has torn. Whatever, you’re not sure whose car this is but you know it isn’t your problem. However, what is your problem is the now lazy body of your lover.
He doesn’t move, staying wedged against the back. There is very little room and you know Rebel has no desire to stay, but still he loosely opens his arms and you readily accept the invitation. You can only take a moment to admire the moonlight shining against him, glinting off sweat, making a hundred stars shining against the midnight sky of his skin. Rebel’s need for touch lasts about as long as yours does, so you don’t stay on it long.
Sliding next to him you rest your head against his shoulder. His throat works and you don’t dare resist the allure of nipping at his collar bone. Rebel grumbles beneath you. He’s hot, and his sweaty skin feels tacky as it cools in the winter air.
“Perhaps…next time we shall find somewhere that might bear us both.” Rebel whispers, trying to make you more comfortable. His arms gently wrapping around you, like he’s scared of you falling off the seat.
“You’re the one who couldn’t wait.” Your voice is thick and exhausted. He runs his fingers along your back, enjoying you.
“I am not as prudent as I should be when it comes to…these sessions.” He admits, though you could have told him that.
You focus on Rebel’s heart, and thrill in your selfishness as you know you’re the only one it beats for. A revealing flash shines through the window, showing you the full beauty of his body. Rebel tilts his head to smell your hair. His stomach flutters beneath the firm touch of your palm.
The night air presses closer but for just this moment it is you and him. His nails scratch down your back, all at once a comforting reminder of him and a threat to not disrupt his comfort. Rebel’s nail scrapes along the back of your ear, his breath catching in a quiet laugh as your breath shudders. He’s a cat playing with his mouse.
Your fingers slide up his back, he adjusts so welcome your embrace. You only stop when your fingers dance along the hairs at the base of his skull. Rebel lets out a pleased little moan, his muscles unwind. Biceps, shoulders, even his pecs slowly relax beneath your cheek. His breath slows down to a crawl in your ear, heart beat doing the same. But as your body begins to slip off the seat, you hook a leg up and that movement seems to be the most he can take.
Rebel groans and shifts beneath you. “Off,” he commands. You don’t question it. You’ve done this enough to know he dislikes being caged in. You expect Rebel to start getting dressed and pull you away to a proper place to sleep, where he can watch you without being forced to be held. That’s the usual way he ends these, but you let out a questioning hum as Rebel turns you to lay down instead.
Not arguing, you shift into place and Rebel flops down onto you. No consideration for the position like you had, no worrying about falling off. Just laying on you like a strangely shaped weighted blanket.
“Hold.” You don’t question this command either, letting him tuck his arms under yours while you wrap him in an embrace. Voice thick, he whispers once more. “We shall leave soon, but I will enjoy this first.”
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
In short? Your mouth, and his hands.
Rebel doesn’t understand the purpose of this question. Hell, he doesn’t understand the purpose of half the questions you ask during times like these.
“Was it good for you?” Of course it was, if Rebel wasn’t satisfied and happy then you and he wouldn’t be finished.
“Did I hurt you?” Of course you did, but Rebel asked you too so why worry?
“Will you stay?” Always.
And now you ask this? Is this a simple wandering of your thoughts, or does this question have more meaningful implications?
“I like all of you,” he whispers, a little confused because it’s true. What part of you is there not to like? Has another insulted you? Who would dare commit such an act? The thought of it is enough to make him boil. His fingers tighten around the coarse sheets.
“That doesn’t count—” Your whisper sends a breath across Rebel’s hips, but it turns to a slightly raised concern. “Are you angry?”
“No.” He lies, and regrets it so immediately that he curses, “****. Yes, I suppose I am.”
“Why?”
He clenches his jaw. “This question…Has someone insulted you?”
The laugh you make is so sudden it finally makes him glance back to you.
An old quilt is draped across your body, exposing your bare shoulders and the curve of your neck. You’re forced to lay on your side, facing Rebel, as Inkwell has taken up residence in the bend of your knees. When you and Rebel first began this the poor cat nearly got squashed, but now he returns from whatever corner he hid in.
Rebel shouldn’t indulge in this too long, the sight alone is enough to get drunk on. As much as he wants to soak in every inch of it, that carries a risk of Rebel becoming immune to, or worse bored by it. So he blinks and turns away.
“No, nobody insulted me.” You trail a finger up Rebel’s spine and it makes him shudder.
He’s sitting up, his knees pressed to his chest, not covered like you. It’s always far too hot after ***. “Then you ask this question out of vanity?”
“Maybe,” you say and it brings a smile to his lips.
“Well, I suppose your ego is worth stroking,” he leans closer and runs a hand over your jaw, cupping your cheek. “You have quite a nice face…”
“You only like me for my looks then?” You ask, clearly attempting to goad another compliment from him.
“No….” Rebel barely finishes the syllable when you grab his wrist and press a kiss into it. Oh. He now understands the meaning of melting into someone. He watches the little movement of your mouth with an interest he has not felt in some time. Gently Rebel runs his thumb across your bottom lip. “This. If I had to choose my favorite part of you, it would be your mouth.”
“Naughty,” you hum and he can’t argue with that assessment.
“There is so much to enjoy about it…I enjoy the voice that comes from it. I enjoy its taste…how it leaves marks on me…” Rebel dips closer, sinking under the quilt with you until you’re eye to eye. His hand never pulls away, and when he’s settled Rebel gently brings you closer to add in a whisper, “I believe it was made to take me.”
Whether that means claim him or be claimed by him is anyone’s guess.
“Naughty naughty naughty,” you chide and use that mouth of yours, smiling into the kiss. “And—” you ask, pulling away and leaving Rebel to whine, “—what’s your favorite part of your own body?”
“Oh, that’s simple. My hands.” How else can he hold you like this? Or use a knife? “Let me show you why it’s my favorite.”
C = *** (anything to do with ***, basically)
In short? It’s another way to mark his territory.
For a thousand years it was obvious that you’d find your way to Rebel. He imagined every possible way it would click in your head that Aphrodite was a but a pitstop to your true partner. He imagined you begging, imagined you taking. He sometimes dreamt of you confessing by accident, or in secret. He could make this an excellent love affair. But in all those centuries, it was this moment that he tried to prevent himself from envisioning. This is essential for you and Rebel to be together, you know it, he knows it. So why was it such a terrifying prospect to even consider? He needs to see the outcome, see who will click into what role. Rebel’s fine with either, in fact would prefer to submit to you. But if he just allows it then it wouldn’t prove a thing, so he makes you work.
If you want to claim him you need to take it.
“Take it.”
Rebel pumps his **** above you, free hand shoving you back to the bed. You whimper, hand reaching to grab it yourself but accepting your place in his capture. He growls and slips the head back into your mouth.
“Fuh—” He whines, sliding into your mouth.
You allow yourself to be used and all he can do is watch you. Sweat beads across your face and you grab onto Rebel’s thighs, creating divet with your pinching fingers. He examines you, wondering if you’ll try to pull him off of your face, but then you recognize your place and press his thighs harder against your cheeks. Rebel could watch you work for days.
His core tightens and his vision tunnels with bliss. Rebel clenches his jaw as he tries to hold the release back, only for your tongue to swirl around the head and send him just to the edge, no further.
The world around Rebel shudders, every muscle in his body tensing until he’s as taut as a bowstring. He bites his finger, tears forming along his eyes and he’s barely able to see through them. Rebel whines, wanting to retreat, not wanting this to be over so quickly. But you don’t let him. The focus in your eyes can be mistaken for fury as you take him.
His hips buck, sliding deeper into your mouth before letting out a final noise. Your cheeks hollow, tongue licks along the underside of his ****, the tip teasing him back and forth. Just as he’s about to break your hand splays across his stomach and shoves.
Rebel is sent sprawling back, the wave doesn’t stop as it hits him. It’s impossible for him to think and the few things his mind does allow are pitiful needy thoughts. Even those sizzle away at your touch. You only pump a few times. His muscles draw in one final time. You hum in approval when the build up finally breaks. Rebel spasms, guided by your grip, and sends thick ropes of his arousal across your face, once, twice, and a final weaker shot against your chest.
Rebel takes raw and heavy breaths. His body still shakes, but he steals every second he’s allowed to admire how beautiful you are with his *** across your face. You gently raise a hand, examining the seed that bridges across your fingers. So that’s the answer… Rebel claimed you first… He smiles, of course he would win. There was never a doubt.
Assuming this has finished, Rebel tries to shift, but your steady grip keeps him in place. When he looks back to you all that he can recognize is the dark cast to your gaze. His muscles tense, and every inch of him recognizes the predator he’s in the claws of. With a smile he bucks his hips to escape, but your hold burns against his thighs like a brand, and you yank him back down. Either panic or excitement surges, Rebel isn’t sure which but knows he wants this all the same. Wants to be yours, even if it means he’s devoured.
Shakily Rebel settles in your lap. Licking across your lips, and with a voice as hungry as your eyes you whisper, “My turn.”
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Before you? Either none, or just one. Rebel’s past relationship with Jammer will always (mostly) reflect Ares’s past relationship with Harper. In the routes that have a past relationship with Harper as either “Friends”, or “Confusing”, then Rebel will have not been with anyone intimately. But if your Ares was a past lover of Harper, then Rebel would have been with Jammer intimately. This is just for narrative differences between routes. In-universe they are not related.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
In short? Trapped beneath you after a long fight, or claiming you from above. Always laying down.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Rebel’s relative ignorance in both *** and relationships means he tends to be serious during the act of lovemaking, (And it is always lovemaking to him, even if done after or during a fight.) And he expects you to be serious too. If you aren’t, if you’re making jokes and laughing then Rebel will assume you’re making light of him, or that your mind is wandering because you aren’t enjoying it enough. Maybe much later Rebel will laugh and have fun in other ways during ***, but for now he’s serious.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Rebel doesn’t shave, he doesn’t like feeling smooth, doesn’t like the sight of it either. He’s maybe done it once some years ago because he thought he was meant to. But after seeing himself in a mirror it just made him feel like a child.
So Rebel lets everything grow out, only cutting it down during the hotter months to keep himself cool. His hairs are coarse between his thighs.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Rebel’s very intimate. He shows it in other ways however. He will be focused entirely on you during the act, holding you, studying you, making sure you’re brought to the edge and kept there until he’s ready. He’ll be so focused on you that he may simply forget his own desires should be satisfied as well. This may unknowingly lead to him becoming sexually frustrated by his own accidental denial.
After the act he will lay with you, before eventually breaking off. After time has passed he will bring you something to eat and drink, and watch you rest.
J = Jack off (************ headcanon)
Hardly ever, it’s boring and unfulfilling. Rebel wants emotion, intensity, a kiss of venom and a choking embrace. He wants skin on skin. Even if you’re there, showing off, the best that can occur is Rebel getting ready for you. If you won’t touch him then Rebel won’t get off. It’s as simple as that.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
In short? Rebel likes to take, or be taken, by surprise. Preferably in the dark when it’s least expected, and with a struggle. Oh, what a delight you are, Rebel thinks. You step into your home with a grumble, the shadows concealing you entirely, save for your vague outline in the dark. He made sure of that, when he slipped into your residence he unscrewed every bulb in your home, closed most of the blinds as well. Though you look best bathed in his light, the moon would risk exposing him, so he only allowed the light to shine through a single window.
You click the lamp once, twice, nothing. Rebel follows you into the kitchen, a breath behind you, less so actually as he leans in to smell the sweat on your neck. What have you done to get so worked up? Had Jackie misused your talents again to send you on another job? No. This sweat doesn’t smell like that… There’s an aroma to it… who were you with?
You jerk around in surprise but Rebel effortlessly slips around you, ducking around your table. You look around the living room again and grumble something. He waits for you to return to the kitchen, click the switch again to find no response from the light.
He’s practiced for days by now, finding the perfect path in your home to tread silently. Your naivete sets desire alight in his core. Rebel wonders how long he can drag this out, how long can he let you feel safe before he reveals himself. Rebel could pull this out, he could make a noise here, take a breath there, and dodge around your gaze as you search for him. He wants to build it up, make you terrified before he strikes.
You fumble around the edge of your bed to find your charger. Rebel wonders if he can slip into your closet, then maybe through texts he can make you bothered enough to please yourself as he watches. Yes, that’s the better plan. Unfortunately someone else decides to interfere. There’s a buzz from your phone. A message, Rebel knows that much but from whom? No. This won’t do. It’s a full moon tonight and you aren’t allowed to think of another.
Rebel presses close to you, hands suddenly on your waist, teeth on the back of your shoulder with possessive hiss. You growl in surprise, and with a panic jut an elbow back. Rebel’s quick enough to slap it away. You struggle more and he hooks an arm around your neck. The choke brings a smile to him, as he jumps to wrap his legs around your waist.
“****—” you begin and Rebel grinds against you, tongue and teeth finding new places along your neck to latch and taste. You stumble back, adjusting to the weight before he leans forward, forcing you onto the bed.
He whispers in your ear, “Don’t yell.” And then lets out a pleased sound when you stop struggling entirely.
“Rebel?” You whisper in the dark, but you had to have known before you heard his voice. You gave in too quickly not to.
“Who else would it be?” He asks between pulling new marks to your skin with his mouth.
“Why are—Get off.” Your command is ignored, mocked even by his low laughter. Rebel’s hand snakes down your stomach and beneath your pants, which brings a low moan out of you. “What are you doing?”
“Taking.” He nips at your earlobe, his other arm tightening around your throat. Your hips shift to give him better access.
“****ing hate you—” you let out high whine, shifting at first to try and shove him off, but then submitting and tugging your own pants down.
“That’s it? No fight?”
“**** you,” the needy tone of your voice is all that Rebel needs to enjoy this.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Rebel wants you somewhere that won’t threaten to take your attention away from the act. He covets you in a safe, quiet, dark and warm place, somewhere comfortable. Preferably at home, where he can enjoy you entirely uninterrupted for however long you two desire.
That being said, being caught doesn’t actually matter to him. As long as he knows who will be doing the catching, and knows it won’t interrupt you. Hell, someone can be actively watching and as long as they aren’t distracting either you or him, and as long as they don’t think they’ll have a chance of claiming you, Rebel will allow it, even be thrilled by it.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
So many things. All of them involve you and you alone. The most prevalent is you showing your dominance in a fight. It will make him shiver with anticipation and you’ll be lucky to make it home before he’s on you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
I think of everyone Rebel will stop for the most reasons.
Rebel will not share you, he will not accept you speaking another’s name when intimate with him. Despite enjoying the fight-to-**** pipeline, if you two are in a rough patch or having an argument he won’t “**** out” the feelings. He wants you to be with him entirely, if you’re distracted he won’t continue even if you beg him to.
If Rebel isn’t in a safe place it's unlikely he will even kiss you unless emotions are high. He won’t roleplay in any way because Rebel wants you and if you’re acting like someone else he’ll grow bored. If you talk too much, or make jokes, or try to take it as anything but serious and intimate then Rebel will pull away frustrated, disappointed, and… well, sad. He’ll feel you take him seriously.
Rebel has truly terrible sensory issues, something that can be blamed on his divinity. So if it's too loud, if there’s even a slightly unpleasant texture on his skin, if there’s the wrong smell, or after he’s just eaten something, all can be reasons Rebel will say no. Rebel prefers you clean, so if you haven’t showered recently he’ll reject you, this rule however doesn’t apply to sweat, just general dirt and grime. It also doesn’t apply if you’ve just been in a fight. Then Rebel prefers you marred by battle, hot, and exhausted.
You can see an additional “no” in the Toys section.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
The answer should be obvious. Does Rebel get to taste you or be tasted by you? If so then he will enjoy it quite a lot. Either giving or receiving, though he is partial to you taking control, grabbing him by the back of his head and guiding his mouth to its destination.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Rebel’s preferred way is to have somewhere that the two of you won’t be disturbed because he takes his time, slowly, methodically, passionately. But he does not need to start somewhere secluded. No, in fact often when you’re with him Rebel is actively working you up. His seduction can last several days if there fails to be an appropriate time. Several days where he observes your every movement, picking and choosing the perfect time to whisper in your ear, to touch your arm as he passes you, to brush his fingers against your thigh.
Honestly, it can be quite a song and dance with Rebel, and you’ll find yourself at home with a body on fire and him in your thoughts until you’re forced to crawl back to him or satisfy yourself. And Rebel knows that your own hand cannot compare to the things he would do.
That doesn’t even count the times he isn’t there. If able to, he will still watch you, of course. Choosing a time to text or call, maybe even taking care of any visitors who dare think they’ll get a crumb of your attention.
For Rebel, every second is foreplay and he oh so loves to take his time.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Contrary to the previous prompt; Rebel does also enjoy quickies…Provided they’re after, or perhaps even during a fight. When your body is hot and there’s blood smeared across your face Rebel will get so excited that he may not even be able to find a secluded place to begin.
Aside from that you’ll need to be doing something equally exciting, something to get his blood pumping and drive his hormones wild. Though what that will be you’ll have to figure out.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Oh Rebel loves a risk in any form. You hardly have to ask. It takes quite a lot to scare him, typically the only way to actually make him afraid is if the people he cares about are in danger. So, as long as you avoid mass casualties, or at least avoid the risk of his loved ones being part of the mass casualties, Rebel will be excited no matter the risk.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Rebel would have had a high endurance and quick recovery period even as a mortal. With his godly physique he will only stop when you cannot, or do not wish to continue, or when the emotions have died down inside of him. If you manage to keep the energy up, the emotions high, and the exhaustion at bay, then Rebel will eventually tire. Though it could take up to a full day of non-stop lovemaking.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
In short? Not a fan of toys used directly for ***, but does enjoy binding and collars.
Rebel scowls at your selection. With a hesitant finger he prods it, his mind unable to process how a device like that can even be sexual. As if by his touch, the toy comes alive with a gentle vibrating hum. Immediately Rebel’s hand retreats.
“No,” he says too quickly.
You play up your faux disappointment just enough to make Rebel huff a laugh as you put it back.
“Your tastes worry me, Lamb.”
“You wanted to come here, I’m just showing you the…” You flick a long rubber tentacle and tilt your head towards him as it shakes. “...boundless possibilities.”
Rebel snickers at the joke but grows bored of this aisle’s selection. He can only see so many phalluses before the shock wears away. “I did not come here for those,” he hums.
“Oh!” You let out a giddy laugh as you’re pulled to follow by the collar of your jacket. Excitement still in your voice you ask, “And what did you come here for?”
he glances at you from the corner of his eye, lips pressed between his teeth. “‘I fail to see how that is your concern.”
“Are you planning to use it on someone else?” You lower your voice as Rebel guides you past another couple.
A burst of annoyance fills him at that. Rebel wouldn’t let them shame you, in fact he’d rather you flaunt the truth of your relationship with him. Though Rebel does enjoy how easy it is to embarrass you. “Oh I’ll use it on you, Lamb. I simply enjoy seeing how you shiver with anticipation.” He doesn’t lower his voice letting it echo over the aisles. It has the desired effect when you duck your head. Like teasing a puppy. Which is fitting for your destination.
You let out a cough, as Rebel drags you into an aisle of leather and latex. His grip unwavering, even as you stumble. “I should have expected this,” you whisper, as if the cuffs would come alive and bind you to the rack. Actually, Rebel may prefer that.
“Am I so obvious with my desires?” Rebel slows as he gets to the section he wants.
“Just this one,” you say, watching with dark eyes as he gently picks through the cuffs.
Most of these are wrong. Too hard, too soft, Rebel picks a set of cuffs up and pulls them apart, the chain snapping quicker than he expected it, the broken link flying somewhere even gods don’t know.
“Mhmm,” You take the broken cuff from Rebel’s hand oh so gently, the warmth of your fingers makes his own curl to hold you. The useless band is dropped back on the shelf. “And why are we buying these? I assumed you’d prefer…”
“Something more intrusive?” He walks backwards, letting you guide him now. “Jurry rigged?”
“I’d say surprising and improvised, but yes.”
It is true, Rebel’s leapt out with chains, and copper wiring more than once. But when he’s finished and tosses it aside, their purpose returns to what it was originally. There’s no lasting impact aside from the marks on your skin. Rebel’s fingers play over another cuff with a stronger chain, but when he goes to grab it you block his hands. Instead you reach above his head and grab a band that is fully leather.
The heat in your eyes is enough to burn the world. You allow Rebel to take it from you and he returns the dark look. “Imagine, Lamb.” He purrs, “You return home after a most horrid day, your back aches, the world is too loud, Your body sings with too many sensations…” He slips only one of your hands into the cuff, “And then I arrive.” Then your other. The leather hangs from your wrists. And Rebel’s body goes electric.
“With these?” You ask, and he laughs, yanking the strap and forcing your arms together. You teasingly try to pull it apart and the coy smile falls as you realize just how strong these ones are.
“Of course…” Rebel looks around and spies the leather padded collar and pulls it from the rack, “And this…and perhaps even a blindfold.”
You writhe your hands inside the leather but can’t weasel out. “So you want me to be stressed and trapped?”
“No,” he leans forward and raises the collar to your neck, not opening it but scrutinizing it. The color does not suit you, so he picks another, and another, before finding the perfect one. That one, he slips around your neck, the chain dangling in front of you. “I simply desire for you not needing to think, to let you sit back…” he tugs at the chain gently, jerking your head to follow so quick that Rebel needs to control himself before he leads you somewhere with fewer cameras. “...And do as I say.” He locks eyes with you again, “‘Twould be… most relaxing for you, I suspect.”
You open your mouth to speak but the couple from before step into the aisle, their eyes go wide as they see you cuffed and collared. You turn to look at the ground, so Rebel pulls your collar again to keep your eyes on him.
“Perhaps I shall entrust these to you when we’re finished. So you may see them hanging from your bed posts, and draw comfort in knowing you’re mine.”
You try to answer with words, but can only let out a whispered whine.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Extremely.
Rebel thinks of you as his sole equal and that will never change. You two are above all others, it is a simple fact of the universe… but that only means the changes in power are all the more enticing for intimate moments. He will only let you feel that you are on equal footing with him in the most romantic of times. Every other second is one he can spend being a menace.
If you’re more dominant then Rebel will be a bit of a brat. He may tease, annoy, evade, or even fight back when you’re together. Anything to frustrate you and to the point that you have to prove your dominance over him. You’ll learn the best way to show Rebel the consequences of annoying his betters.
If you’re more submissive then Rebel will leave you wanting for hours, coming back to tease you, pull you to the edge of satisfaction and keep you there. He loves to play with his food and you are by no means an exception. Rebel will tease you until you’re teary-eyed and whining, and only then will he claim you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Rebel is not loud during intimate moments by any means, but he isn’t silent either. Rebel will talk to you, in your ear he will whisper sweet, or teasing words, but his voice will not scream. There will be no loud declarations of love when you’re with him, just quiet promises of what will happen next.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
I can’t quite say. I feel like I’ve shown that as long as Rebel’s comfortable he’ll do most anything. But to circle back to the Location prompt from before…
In short? Rebel would enjoy it quite a lot if he could claim you in front of others, as a way to show off that you’re his and he’s yours. If not that, he will mark you in other ways and would want you to mark him. “Why are you laughing?” Rebel asks.
“You don’t find it funny?” You ask, the nervous vulnerable laughter dying away.
“Lamb, how are your own desires funny?”
You shrug, which irritates Rebel. There’s no need to be nervous with him, even still your words are laced with anxiety as you speak. “Well…that’s my dirtiest secret.”
“I have seen what makes you tick, that is hardly a secret.” He scoffs.
You press a finger into his stomach, prodding him on, “Well, now’s a chance to one-up me. Go on.” Rebel grumbles from the attack, and takes in the view as he thinks. Central Park is a fine place, Rebel supposes. It doesn’t hold a candle to the beauty of real nature. Everything here is… organized. Cut down and pruned so much that it is more of a diorama than anything real. How he craves to just walk in a proper forest again. He spends too long in the city, it isn’t right for a god of the hunt. The balustrade of the bridge presses into his ribs, forcing him to face you instead, an infinitely better view in his opinion.
Rebel doesn’t have dirty secrets, everything he wants he takes. Like you. He wants you here and now. So why can’t he have you?
Some joggers run past and Rebel nearly trips them. They’re why, of course. People running, walking, enjoying this sham of a forest and intruding on his time with you. He wants you now and he doesn’t care if anyone sees. You and Rebel are gods, it’s not like anyone can stop you. That isn’t a secret though, not to you. Of course Rebel would want that, he knows you want it too. Otherwise this conversation wouldn’t be happening so early in the morning.
But maybe it’s enough to satisfy you…it will be enough to satisfy Rebel, certainly.
“Fine, my dirty secret…” He leans in looking up at you with wide eyes, “I want you here and now.”
“As much as I like to hear that, it isn’t a dirty secret.” You murmur, leaning in closer, the air around you and Rebel getting hotter.
Rebel takes a step further, putting a hand on your hip and making you breathe out a delightful sound when he pivots to push you against the railing instead. “Hmm, I do not think you understand. I want you here and now.” His fingers slip beneath your waistband and you let a nervous laugh out.
“We can go back to my place…”
“I did not say your place, I said here and now.” He wonders how far you’ll let him go. Maybe just this once you’ll release your inhibitions.
Rebel hears another jogger approaching from behind him. Your eyes widen and you move to block the view of his hand in your pants. They pass by without a second thought and he slides a finger further. “There are people,” you protest.
“I fail to see how it matters, Lamb.”
“They—” you take a breath as Rebel works you, “This is a good way to get put on a list.”
“Let them.”
“****… Rebel, someone will try to—”
“They will try nothing. They cannot stop us, Lamb.” Rebel kisses your neck and you lean your head back, rocking your hips with his hand. “And if they try to take you from me…” his whisper in your ear causes you to whine loud enough to draw attention, “...then I will kill them.”
Rebel’s hand moves quicker, and you meet his pace, losing yourself entirely. Gripping onto his shoulder for support you lean back, your pelvis moving in rhythm. Right in the open, the lake to your back, on a jogging path, free for anyone to see. Your breath fogs the air around you, the morning light peeking from between buildings just to light your clouds in orange and yellow. Finally, he’s always wanted you to breathe fire. If it wasn’t for the winter air Rebel would have stripped you of your clothes.
You finish, trying to contain your moan even as it bubbles out of you in a wrecked sigh. Rebel drinks in every shiver, slowly pulling his hand from your pants. You desperately pull them up, making it just in time for two more joggers to cross beside you two. It doesn’t matter if they saw or not, Rebel’s entire focus is the mess you made between his fingers. “Mhm…we shall do this often, Lamb.”
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
If you’re looking for impressive sizes you won’t be finding them on Rebel. His manhood is below average, and he has neither pride nor shame in his size, and finds the concept of comparing sizes a stroke of one’s ego and nothing more.
He also doesn’t shave his body hair, be it on his legs, arms, or in more intimate areas. But Rebel does shave his chest, not liking having hair there.
Rebel’s hips and arms are deceptively unshapely, giving one the impression of a weak individual. But that’s only because Rebel likes to stay thin and unassuming, his godly physique keeps him plenty strong even without working out. So Rebel mostly does cardio mostly, giving him a tightly wound and lean body. His skin is a dark rich brown, and through the entirety it’s nearly unblemished, save for three small beauty marks down his lower back.. and the multitude of light scars. The majority of which are across his arms, shoulders, and chest. But scars still line up his stomach, back, and thighs as well. They are by far the most striking part of his body, and he likes to show them off. Rebel has no tattoos and would only be willing to get one if either you or Jammer asked for matching ones.
Y = Yearning (how high is their *** drive?)
When away Rebel’s focus goes to other matters. He has hobbies and his own friends and work, as such he doesn’t often desire ***. But when you’re with him Rebel will find himself with an annoying and new need. A need that he’s felt before but not often.
The first days of your relationship will be the worst. Rebel will burn and writhe during the nights, and may even intrude in your home just to help satisfy him. Though, as you become more attuned with each other, and your presence becomes familiar in his life, then Rebel’s desires will simmer. Though it will never be as low as it was before you set his world on fire.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
If you’re a cuddler then Rebel will allow it, and stay awake until he no longer wants to be held. If you’re not a cuddler, or after Rebel breaks away if you are one, he will not stay awake long at all. Rebel will scoot to the other side of the bed and watch you sleep until he too succumbs. Sleep will come swiftly for him, but he won’t stay awake for long periods of time.
You may often find yourself waking up at 3am alone in bed, only to find Rebel working on some project in the moonlight. But this will be the same for most nights, regardless if you’ve laid with him or not. You may call him back to bed and Rebel will realize just how exhausted he is, or you can drift back to sleep, the sound of his work becoming a lullaby for you alone.
In short? Immediately after he's very lazy, he'd like to cuddle for a bit, but it doesn’t last forever. Rebel will savor you though.
Rebel’s body is taut. Against the car seat he takes rapid hungry breaths of air. Eyes screwed shut as the last waves of pleasure wash over him. You have to hold his hips down until the ecstasy washes away. Rebel’s hands are gripped so tight against the seat that the leather has torn. Whatever, you’re not sure whose car this is but you know it isn’t your problem. However, what is your problem is the now lazy body of your lover.
He doesn’t move, staying wedged against the back. There is very little room and you know Rebel has no desire to stay, but still he loosely opens his arms and you readily accept the invitation. You can only take a moment to admire the moonlight shining against him, glinting off sweat, making a hundred stars shining against the midnight sky of his skin. Rebel’s need for touch lasts about as long as yours does, so you don’t stay on it long.
Sliding next to him you rest your head against his shoulder. His throat works and you don’t dare resist the allure of nipping at his collar bone. Rebel grumbles beneath you. He’s hot, and his sweaty skin feels tacky as it cools in the winter air.
“Perhaps…next time we shall find somewhere that might bear us both.” Rebel whispers, trying to make you more comfortable. His arms gently wrapping around you, like he’s scared of you falling off the seat.
“You’re the one who couldn’t wait.” Your voice is thick and exhausted. He runs his fingers along your back, enjoying you.
“I am not as prudent as I should be when it comes to…these sessions.” He admits, though you could have told him that.
You focus on Rebel’s heart, and thrill in your selfishness as you know you’re the only one it beats for. A revealing flash shines through the window, showing you the full beauty of his body. Rebel tilts his head to smell your hair. His stomach flutters beneath the firm touch of your palm.
The night air presses closer but for just this moment it is you and him. His nails scratch down your back, all at once a comforting reminder of him and a threat to not disrupt his comfort. Rebel’s nail scrapes along the back of your ear, his breath catching in a quiet laugh as your breath shudders. He’s a cat playing with his mouse.
Your fingers slide up his back, he adjusts so welcome your embrace. You only stop when your fingers dance along the hairs at the base of his skull. Rebel lets out a pleased little moan, his muscles unwind. Biceps, shoulders, even his pecs slowly relax beneath your cheek. His breath slows down to a crawl in your ear, heart beat doing the same. But as your body begins to slip off the seat, you hook a leg up and that movement seems to be the most he can take.
Rebel groans and shifts beneath you. “Off,” he commands. You don’t question it. You’ve done this enough to know he dislikes being caged in. You expect Rebel to start getting dressed and pull you away to a proper place to sleep, where he can watch you without being forced to be held. That’s the usual way he ends these, but you let out a questioning hum as Rebel turns you to lay down instead.
Not arguing, you shift into place and Rebel flops down onto you. No consideration for the position like you had, no worrying about falling off. Just laying on you like a strangely shaped weighted blanket.
“Hold.” You don’t question this command either, letting him tuck his arms under yours while you wrap him in an embrace. Voice thick, he whispers once more. “We shall leave soon, but I will enjoy this first.”
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
In short? Your mouth, and his hands.
Rebel doesn’t understand the purpose of this question. Hell, he doesn’t understand the purpose of half the questions you ask during times like these.
“Was it good for you?” Of course it was, if Rebel wasn’t satisfied and happy then you and he wouldn’t be finished.
“Did I hurt you?” Of course you did, but Rebel asked you too so why worry?
“Will you stay?” Always.
And now you ask this? Is this a simple wandering of your thoughts, or does this question have more meaningful implications?
“I like all of you,” he whispers, a little confused because it’s true. What part of you is there not to like? Has another insulted you? Who would dare commit such an act? The thought of it is enough to make him boil. His fingers tighten around the coarse sheets.
“That doesn’t count—” Your whisper sends a breath across Rebel’s hips, but it turns to a slightly raised concern. “Are you angry?”
“No.” He lies, and regrets it so immediately that he curses, “****. Yes, I suppose I am.”
“Why?”
He clenches his jaw. “This question…Has someone insulted you?”
The laugh you make is so sudden it finally makes him glance back to you.
An old quilt is draped across your body, exposing your bare shoulders and the curve of your neck. You’re forced to lay on your side, facing Rebel, as Inkwell has taken up residence in the bend of your knees. When you and Rebel first began this the poor cat nearly got squashed, but now he returns from whatever corner he hid in.
Rebel shouldn’t indulge in this too long, the sight alone is enough to get drunk on. As much as he wants to soak in every inch of it, that carries a risk of Rebel becoming immune to, or worse bored by it. So he blinks and turns away.
“No, nobody insulted me.” You trail a finger up Rebel’s spine and it makes him shudder.
He’s sitting up, his knees pressed to his chest, not covered like you. It’s always far too hot after ***. “Then you ask this question out of vanity?”
“Maybe,” you say and it brings a smile to his lips.
“Well, I suppose your ego is worth stroking,” he leans closer and runs a hand over your jaw, cupping your cheek. “You have quite a nice face…”
“You only like me for my looks then?” You ask, clearly attempting to goad another compliment from him.
“No….” Rebel barely finishes the syllable when you grab his wrist and press a kiss into it. Oh. He now understands the meaning of melting into someone. He watches the little movement of your mouth with an interest he has not felt in some time. Gently Rebel runs his thumb across your bottom lip. “This. If I had to choose my favorite part of you, it would be your mouth.”
“Naughty,” you hum and he can’t argue with that assessment.
“There is so much to enjoy about it…I enjoy the voice that comes from it. I enjoy its taste…how it leaves marks on me…” Rebel dips closer, sinking under the quilt with you until you’re eye to eye. His hand never pulls away, and when he’s settled Rebel gently brings you closer to add in a whisper, “I believe it was made to take me.”
Whether that means claim him or be claimed by him is anyone’s guess.
“Naughty naughty naughty,” you chide and use that mouth of yours, smiling into the kiss. “And—” you ask, pulling away and leaving Rebel to whine, “—what’s your favorite part of your own body?”
“Oh, that’s simple. My hands.” How else can he hold you like this? Or use a knife? “Let me show you why it’s my favorite.”
C = *** (anything to do with ***, basically)
In short? It’s another way to mark his territory.
For a thousand years it was obvious that you’d find your way to Rebel. He imagined every possible way it would click in your head that Aphrodite was a but a pitstop to your true partner. He imagined you begging, imagined you taking. He sometimes dreamt of you confessing by accident, or in secret. He could make this an excellent love affair. But in all those centuries, it was this moment that he tried to prevent himself from envisioning. This is essential for you and Rebel to be together, you know it, he knows it. So why was it such a terrifying prospect to even consider? He needs to see the outcome, see who will click into what role. Rebel’s fine with either, in fact would prefer to submit to you. But if he just allows it then it wouldn’t prove a thing, so he makes you work.
If you want to claim him you need to take it.
“Take it.”
Rebel pumps his **** above you, free hand shoving you back to the bed. You whimper, hand reaching to grab it yourself but accepting your place in his capture. He growls and slips the head back into your mouth.
“Fuh—” He whines, sliding into your mouth.
You allow yourself to be used and all he can do is watch you. Sweat beads across your face and you grab onto Rebel’s thighs, creating divet with your pinching fingers. He examines you, wondering if you’ll try to pull him off of your face, but then you recognize your place and press his thighs harder against your cheeks. Rebel could watch you work for days.
His core tightens and his vision tunnels with bliss. Rebel clenches his jaw as he tries to hold the release back, only for your tongue to swirl around the head and send him just to the edge, no further.
The world around Rebel shudders, every muscle in his body tensing until he’s as taut as a bowstring. He bites his finger, tears forming along his eyes and he’s barely able to see through them. Rebel whines, wanting to retreat, not wanting this to be over so quickly. But you don’t let him. The focus in your eyes can be mistaken for fury as you take him.
His hips buck, sliding deeper into your mouth before letting out a final noise. Your cheeks hollow, tongue licks along the underside of his ****, the tip teasing him back and forth. Just as he’s about to break your hand splays across his stomach and shoves.
Rebel is sent sprawling back, the wave doesn’t stop as it hits him. It’s impossible for him to think and the few things his mind does allow are pitiful needy thoughts. Even those sizzle away at your touch. You only pump a few times. His muscles draw in one final time. You hum in approval when the build up finally breaks. Rebel spasms, guided by your grip, and sends thick ropes of his arousal across your face, once, twice, and a final weaker shot against your chest.
Rebel takes raw and heavy breaths. His body still shakes, but he steals every second he’s allowed to admire how beautiful you are with his *** across your face. You gently raise a hand, examining the seed that bridges across your fingers. So that’s the answer… Rebel claimed you first… He smiles, of course he would win. There was never a doubt.
Assuming this has finished, Rebel tries to shift, but your steady grip keeps him in place. When he looks back to you all that he can recognize is the dark cast to your gaze. His muscles tense, and every inch of him recognizes the predator he’s in the claws of. With a smile he bucks his hips to escape, but your hold burns against his thighs like a brand, and you yank him back down. Either panic or excitement surges, Rebel isn’t sure which but knows he wants this all the same. Wants to be yours, even if it means he’s devoured.
Shakily Rebel settles in your lap. Licking across your lips, and with a voice as hungry as your eyes you whisper, “My turn.”
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Before you? Either none, or just one. Rebel’s past relationship with Jammer will always (mostly) reflect Ares’s past relationship with Harper. In the routes that have a past relationship with Harper as either “Friends”, or “Confusing”, then Rebel will have not been with anyone intimately. But if your Ares was a past lover of Harper, then Rebel would have been with Jammer intimately. This is just for narrative differences between routes. In-universe they are not related.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
In short? Trapped beneath you after a long fight, or claiming you from above. Always laying down.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Rebel’s relative ignorance in both *** and relationships means he tends to be serious during the act of lovemaking, (And it is always lovemaking to him, even if done after or during a fight.) And he expects you to be serious too. If you aren’t, if you’re making jokes and laughing then Rebel will assume you’re making light of him, or that your mind is wandering because you aren’t enjoying it enough. Maybe much later Rebel will laugh and have fun in other ways during ***, but for now he’s serious.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Rebel doesn’t shave, he doesn’t like feeling smooth, doesn’t like the sight of it either. He’s maybe done it once some years ago because he thought he was meant to. But after seeing himself in a mirror it just made him feel like a child.
So Rebel lets everything grow out, only cutting it down during the hotter months to keep himself cool. His hairs are coarse between his thighs.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Rebel’s very intimate. He shows it in other ways however. He will be focused entirely on you during the act, holding you, studying you, making sure you’re brought to the edge and kept there until he’s ready. He’ll be so focused on you that he may simply forget his own desires should be satisfied as well. This may unknowingly lead to him becoming sexually frustrated by his own accidental denial.
After the act he will lay with you, before eventually breaking off. After time has passed he will bring you something to eat and drink, and watch you rest.
J = Jack off (************ headcanon)
Hardly ever, it’s boring and unfulfilling. Rebel wants emotion, intensity, a kiss of venom and a choking embrace. He wants skin on skin. Even if you’re there, showing off, the best that can occur is Rebel getting ready for you. If you won’t touch him then Rebel won’t get off. It’s as simple as that.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
In short? Rebel likes to take, or be taken, by surprise. Preferably in the dark when it’s least expected, and with a struggle. Oh, what a delight you are, Rebel thinks. You step into your home with a grumble, the shadows concealing you entirely, save for your vague outline in the dark. He made sure of that, when he slipped into your residence he unscrewed every bulb in your home, closed most of the blinds as well. Though you look best bathed in his light, the moon would risk exposing him, so he only allowed the light to shine through a single window.
You click the lamp once, twice, nothing. Rebel follows you into the kitchen, a breath behind you, less so actually as he leans in to smell the sweat on your neck. What have you done to get so worked up? Had Jackie misused your talents again to send you on another job? No. This sweat doesn’t smell like that… There’s an aroma to it… who were you with?
You jerk around in surprise but Rebel effortlessly slips around you, ducking around your table. You look around the living room again and grumble something. He waits for you to return to the kitchen, click the switch again to find no response from the light.
He’s practiced for days by now, finding the perfect path in your home to tread silently. Your naivete sets desire alight in his core. Rebel wonders how long he can drag this out, how long can he let you feel safe before he reveals himself. Rebel could pull this out, he could make a noise here, take a breath there, and dodge around your gaze as you search for him. He wants to build it up, make you terrified before he strikes.
You fumble around the edge of your bed to find your charger. Rebel wonders if he can slip into your closet, then maybe through texts he can make you bothered enough to please yourself as he watches. Yes, that’s the better plan. Unfortunately someone else decides to interfere. There’s a buzz from your phone. A message, Rebel knows that much but from whom? No. This won’t do. It’s a full moon tonight and you aren’t allowed to think of another.
Rebel presses close to you, hands suddenly on your waist, teeth on the back of your shoulder with possessive hiss. You growl in surprise, and with a panic jut an elbow back. Rebel’s quick enough to slap it away. You struggle more and he hooks an arm around your neck. The choke brings a smile to him, as he jumps to wrap his legs around your waist.
“****—” you begin and Rebel grinds against you, tongue and teeth finding new places along your neck to latch and taste. You stumble back, adjusting to the weight before he leans forward, forcing you onto the bed.
He whispers in your ear, “Don’t yell.” And then lets out a pleased sound when you stop struggling entirely.
“Rebel?” You whisper in the dark, but you had to have known before you heard his voice. You gave in too quickly not to.
“Who else would it be?” He asks between pulling new marks to your skin with his mouth.
“Why are—Get off.” Your command is ignored, mocked even by his low laughter. Rebel’s hand snakes down your stomach and beneath your pants, which brings a low moan out of you. “What are you doing?”
“Taking.” He nips at your earlobe, his other arm tightening around your throat. Your hips shift to give him better access.
“****ing hate you—” you let out high whine, shifting at first to try and shove him off, but then submitting and tugging your own pants down.
“That’s it? No fight?”
“**** you,” the needy tone of your voice is all that Rebel needs to enjoy this.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Rebel wants you somewhere that won’t threaten to take your attention away from the act. He covets you in a safe, quiet, dark and warm place, somewhere comfortable. Preferably at home, where he can enjoy you entirely uninterrupted for however long you two desire.
That being said, being caught doesn’t actually matter to him. As long as he knows who will be doing the catching, and knows it won’t interrupt you. Hell, someone can be actively watching and as long as they aren’t distracting either you or him, and as long as they don’t think they’ll have a chance of claiming you, Rebel will allow it, even be thrilled by it.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
So many things. All of them involve you and you alone. The most prevalent is you showing your dominance in a fight. It will make him shiver with anticipation and you’ll be lucky to make it home before he’s on you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
I think of everyone Rebel will stop for the most reasons.
Rebel will not share you, he will not accept you speaking another’s name when intimate with him. Despite enjoying the fight-to-**** pipeline, if you two are in a rough patch or having an argument he won’t “**** out” the feelings. He wants you to be with him entirely, if you’re distracted he won’t continue even if you beg him to.
If Rebel isn’t in a safe place it's unlikely he will even kiss you unless emotions are high. He won’t roleplay in any way because Rebel wants you and if you’re acting like someone else he’ll grow bored. If you talk too much, or make jokes, or try to take it as anything but serious and intimate then Rebel will pull away frustrated, disappointed, and… well, sad. He’ll feel you take him seriously.
Rebel has truly terrible sensory issues, something that can be blamed on his divinity. So if it's too loud, if there’s even a slightly unpleasant texture on his skin, if there’s the wrong smell, or after he’s just eaten something, all can be reasons Rebel will say no. Rebel prefers you clean, so if you haven’t showered recently he’ll reject you, this rule however doesn’t apply to sweat, just general dirt and grime. It also doesn’t apply if you’ve just been in a fight. Then Rebel prefers you marred by battle, hot, and exhausted.
You can see an additional “no” in the Toys section.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
The answer should be obvious. Does Rebel get to taste you or be tasted by you? If so then he will enjoy it quite a lot. Either giving or receiving, though he is partial to you taking control, grabbing him by the back of his head and guiding his mouth to its destination.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Rebel’s preferred way is to have somewhere that the two of you won’t be disturbed because he takes his time, slowly, methodically, passionately. But he does not need to start somewhere secluded. No, in fact often when you’re with him Rebel is actively working you up. His seduction can last several days if there fails to be an appropriate time. Several days where he observes your every movement, picking and choosing the perfect time to whisper in your ear, to touch your arm as he passes you, to brush his fingers against your thigh.
Honestly, it can be quite a song and dance with Rebel, and you’ll find yourself at home with a body on fire and him in your thoughts until you’re forced to crawl back to him or satisfy yourself. And Rebel knows that your own hand cannot compare to the things he would do.
That doesn’t even count the times he isn’t there. If able to, he will still watch you, of course. Choosing a time to text or call, maybe even taking care of any visitors who dare think they’ll get a crumb of your attention.
For Rebel, every second is foreplay and he oh so loves to take his time.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Contrary to the previous prompt; Rebel does also enjoy quickies…Provided they’re after, or perhaps even during a fight. When your body is hot and there’s blood smeared across your face Rebel will get so excited that he may not even be able to find a secluded place to begin.
Aside from that you’ll need to be doing something equally exciting, something to get his blood pumping and drive his hormones wild. Though what that will be you’ll have to figure out.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Oh Rebel loves a risk in any form. You hardly have to ask. It takes quite a lot to scare him, typically the only way to actually make him afraid is if the people he cares about are in danger. So, as long as you avoid mass casualties, or at least avoid the risk of his loved ones being part of the mass casualties, Rebel will be excited no matter the risk.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Rebel would have had a high endurance and quick recovery period even as a mortal. With his godly physique he will only stop when you cannot, or do not wish to continue, or when the emotions have died down inside of him. If you manage to keep the energy up, the emotions high, and the exhaustion at bay, then Rebel will eventually tire. Though it could take up to a full day of non-stop lovemaking.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
In short? Not a fan of toys used directly for ***, but does enjoy binding and collars.
Rebel scowls at your selection. With a hesitant finger he prods it, his mind unable to process how a device like that can even be sexual. As if by his touch, the toy comes alive with a gentle vibrating hum. Immediately Rebel’s hand retreats.
“No,” he says too quickly.
You play up your faux disappointment just enough to make Rebel huff a laugh as you put it back.
“Your tastes worry me, Lamb.”
“You wanted to come here, I’m just showing you the…” You flick a long rubber tentacle and tilt your head towards him as it shakes. “...boundless possibilities.”
Rebel snickers at the joke but grows bored of this aisle’s selection. He can only see so many phalluses before the shock wears away. “I did not come here for those,” he hums.
“Oh!” You let out a giddy laugh as you’re pulled to follow by the collar of your jacket. Excitement still in your voice you ask, “And what did you come here for?”
he glances at you from the corner of his eye, lips pressed between his teeth. “‘I fail to see how that is your concern.”
“Are you planning to use it on someone else?” You lower your voice as Rebel guides you past another couple.
A burst of annoyance fills him at that. Rebel wouldn’t let them shame you, in fact he’d rather you flaunt the truth of your relationship with him. Though Rebel does enjoy how easy it is to embarrass you. “Oh I’ll use it on you, Lamb. I simply enjoy seeing how you shiver with anticipation.” He doesn’t lower his voice letting it echo over the aisles. It has the desired effect when you duck your head. Like teasing a puppy. Which is fitting for your destination.
You let out a cough, as Rebel drags you into an aisle of leather and latex. His grip unwavering, even as you stumble. “I should have expected this,” you whisper, as if the cuffs would come alive and bind you to the rack. Actually, Rebel may prefer that.
“Am I so obvious with my desires?” Rebel slows as he gets to the section he wants.
“Just this one,” you say, watching with dark eyes as he gently picks through the cuffs.
Most of these are wrong. Too hard, too soft, Rebel picks a set of cuffs up and pulls them apart, the chain snapping quicker than he expected it, the broken link flying somewhere even gods don’t know.
“Mhmm,” You take the broken cuff from Rebel’s hand oh so gently, the warmth of your fingers makes his own curl to hold you. The useless band is dropped back on the shelf. “And why are we buying these? I assumed you’d prefer…”
“Something more intrusive?” He walks backwards, letting you guide him now. “Jurry rigged?”
“I’d say surprising and improvised, but yes.”
It is true, Rebel’s leapt out with chains, and copper wiring more than once. But when he’s finished and tosses it aside, their purpose returns to what it was originally. There’s no lasting impact aside from the marks on your skin. Rebel’s fingers play over another cuff with a stronger chain, but when he goes to grab it you block his hands. Instead you reach above his head and grab a band that is fully leather.
The heat in your eyes is enough to burn the world. You allow Rebel to take it from you and he returns the dark look. “Imagine, Lamb.” He purrs, “You return home after a most horrid day, your back aches, the world is too loud, Your body sings with too many sensations…” He slips only one of your hands into the cuff, “And then I arrive.” Then your other. The leather hangs from your wrists. And Rebel’s body goes electric.
“With these?” You ask, and he laughs, yanking the strap and forcing your arms together. You teasingly try to pull it apart and the coy smile falls as you realize just how strong these ones are.
“Of course…” Rebel looks around and spies the leather padded collar and pulls it from the rack, “And this…and perhaps even a blindfold.”
You writhe your hands inside the leather but can’t weasel out. “So you want me to be stressed and trapped?”
“No,” he leans forward and raises the collar to your neck, not opening it but scrutinizing it. The color does not suit you, so he picks another, and another, before finding the perfect one. That one, he slips around your neck, the chain dangling in front of you. “I simply desire for you not needing to think, to let you sit back…” he tugs at the chain gently, jerking your head to follow so quick that Rebel needs to control himself before he leads you somewhere with fewer cameras. “...And do as I say.” He locks eyes with you again, “‘Twould be… most relaxing for you, I suspect.”
You open your mouth to speak but the couple from before step into the aisle, their eyes go wide as they see you cuffed and collared. You turn to look at the ground, so Rebel pulls your collar again to keep your eyes on him.
“Perhaps I shall entrust these to you when we’re finished. So you may see them hanging from your bed posts, and draw comfort in knowing you’re mine.”
You try to answer with words, but can only let out a whispered whine.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Extremely.
Rebel thinks of you as his sole equal and that will never change. You two are above all others, it is a simple fact of the universe… but that only means the changes in power are all the more enticing for intimate moments. He will only let you feel that you are on equal footing with him in the most romantic of times. Every other second is one he can spend being a menace.
If you’re more dominant then Rebel will be a bit of a brat. He may tease, annoy, evade, or even fight back when you’re together. Anything to frustrate you and to the point that you have to prove your dominance over him. You’ll learn the best way to show Rebel the consequences of annoying his betters.
If you’re more submissive then Rebel will leave you wanting for hours, coming back to tease you, pull you to the edge of satisfaction and keep you there. He loves to play with his food and you are by no means an exception. Rebel will tease you until you’re teary-eyed and whining, and only then will he claim you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Rebel is not loud during intimate moments by any means, but he isn’t silent either. Rebel will talk to you, in your ear he will whisper sweet, or teasing words, but his voice will not scream. There will be no loud declarations of love when you’re with him, just quiet promises of what will happen next.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
I can’t quite say. I feel like I’ve shown that as long as Rebel’s comfortable he’ll do most anything. But to circle back to the Location prompt from before…
In short? Rebel would enjoy it quite a lot if he could claim you in front of others, as a way to show off that you’re his and he’s yours. If not that, he will mark you in other ways and would want you to mark him. “Why are you laughing?” Rebel asks.
“You don’t find it funny?” You ask, the nervous vulnerable laughter dying away.
“Lamb, how are your own desires funny?”
You shrug, which irritates Rebel. There’s no need to be nervous with him, even still your words are laced with anxiety as you speak. “Well…that’s my dirtiest secret.”
“I have seen what makes you tick, that is hardly a secret.” He scoffs.
You press a finger into his stomach, prodding him on, “Well, now’s a chance to one-up me. Go on.” Rebel grumbles from the attack, and takes in the view as he thinks. Central Park is a fine place, Rebel supposes. It doesn’t hold a candle to the beauty of real nature. Everything here is… organized. Cut down and pruned so much that it is more of a diorama than anything real. How he craves to just walk in a proper forest again. He spends too long in the city, it isn’t right for a god of the hunt. The balustrade of the bridge presses into his ribs, forcing him to face you instead, an infinitely better view in his opinion.
Rebel doesn’t have dirty secrets, everything he wants he takes. Like you. He wants you here and now. So why can’t he have you?
Some joggers run past and Rebel nearly trips them. They’re why, of course. People running, walking, enjoying this sham of a forest and intruding on his time with you. He wants you now and he doesn’t care if anyone sees. You and Rebel are gods, it’s not like anyone can stop you. That isn’t a secret though, not to you. Of course Rebel would want that, he knows you want it too. Otherwise this conversation wouldn’t be happening so early in the morning.
But maybe it’s enough to satisfy you…it will be enough to satisfy Rebel, certainly.
“Fine, my dirty secret…” He leans in looking up at you with wide eyes, “I want you here and now.”
“As much as I like to hear that, it isn’t a dirty secret.” You murmur, leaning in closer, the air around you and Rebel getting hotter.
Rebel takes a step further, putting a hand on your hip and making you breathe out a delightful sound when he pivots to push you against the railing instead. “Hmm, I do not think you understand. I want you here and now.” His fingers slip beneath your waistband and you let a nervous laugh out.
“We can go back to my place…”
“I did not say your place, I said here and now.” He wonders how far you’ll let him go. Maybe just this once you’ll release your inhibitions.
Rebel hears another jogger approaching from behind him. Your eyes widen and you move to block the view of his hand in your pants. They pass by without a second thought and he slides a finger further. “There are people,” you protest.
“I fail to see how it matters, Lamb.”
“They—” you take a breath as Rebel works you, “This is a good way to get put on a list.”
“Let them.”
“****… Rebel, someone will try to—”
“They will try nothing. They cannot stop us, Lamb.” Rebel kisses your neck and you lean your head back, rocking your hips with his hand. “And if they try to take you from me…” his whisper in your ear causes you to whine loud enough to draw attention, “...then I will kill them.”
Rebel’s hand moves quicker, and you meet his pace, losing yourself entirely. Gripping onto his shoulder for support you lean back, your pelvis moving in rhythm. Right in the open, the lake to your back, on a jogging path, free for anyone to see. Your breath fogs the air around you, the morning light peeking from between buildings just to light your clouds in orange and yellow. Finally, he’s always wanted you to breathe fire. If it wasn’t for the winter air Rebel would have stripped you of your clothes.
You finish, trying to contain your moan even as it bubbles out of you in a wrecked sigh. Rebel drinks in every shiver, slowly pulling his hand from your pants. You desperately pull them up, making it just in time for two more joggers to cross beside you two. It doesn’t matter if they saw or not, Rebel’s entire focus is the mess you made between his fingers. “Mhm…we shall do this often, Lamb.”
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
If you’re looking for impressive sizes you won’t be finding them on Rebel. His manhood is below average, and he has neither pride nor shame in his size, and finds the concept of comparing sizes a stroke of one’s ego and nothing more.
He also doesn’t shave his body hair, be it on his legs, arms, or in more intimate areas. But Rebel does shave his chest, not liking having hair there.
Rebel’s hips and arms are deceptively unshapely, giving one the impression of a weak individual. But that’s only because Rebel likes to stay thin and unassuming, his godly physique keeps him plenty strong even without working out. So Rebel mostly does cardio mostly, giving him a tightly wound and lean body. His skin is a dark rich brown, and through the entirety it’s nearly unblemished, save for three small beauty marks down his lower back.. and the multitude of light scars. The majority of which are across his arms, shoulders, and chest. But scars still line up his stomach, back, and thighs as well. They are by far the most striking part of his body, and he likes to show them off. Rebel has no tattoos and would only be willing to get one if either you or Jammer asked for matching ones.
Y = Yearning (how high is their *** drive?)
When away Rebel’s focus goes to other matters. He has hobbies and his own friends and work, as such he doesn’t often desire ***. But when you’re with him Rebel will find himself with an annoying and new need. A need that he’s felt before but not often.
The first days of your relationship will be the worst. Rebel will burn and writhe during the nights, and may even intrude in your home just to help satisfy him. Though, as you become more attuned with each other, and your presence becomes familiar in his life, then Rebel’s desires will simmer. Though it will never be as low as it was before you set his world on fire.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
If you’re a cuddler then Rebel will allow it, and stay awake until he no longer wants to be held. If you’re not a cuddler, or after Rebel breaks away if you are one, he will not stay awake long at all. Rebel will scoot to the other side of the bed and watch you sleep until he too succumbs. Sleep will come swiftly for him, but he won’t stay awake for long periods of time.
You may often find yourself waking up at 3am alone in bed, only to find Rebel working on some project in the moonlight. But this will be the same for most nights, regardless if you’ve laid with him or not. You may call him back to bed and Rebel will realize just how exhausted he is, or you can drift back to sleep, the sound of his work becoming a lullaby for you alone.
As you can see see here, the NSFW prompts will be rather large. A mix of short drabbles and just direct answers. Enjoy!
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after ***)
In short? Immediately after she's very lazy, she'd like to cuddle for a bit, but it doesn’t last forever. Rebel will savor you though.
Rebel’s body is taut. Against the car seat she takes rapid hungry breaths of air. Eyes screwed shut as the last waves of pleasure wash over her. You have to hold her hips down until the ecstasy washes away. Rebel’s hands are gripped so tight against the seat that the leather has torn. Whatever, you’re not sure whose car this is but you know it isn’t your problem. However, what is your problem is the now lazy body of your lover.
She doesn’t move, staying wedged against the back. There is very little room and you know Rebel has no desire to stay, but still she loosely opens her arms and you readily accept the invitation. You can only take a moment to admire the moonlight shining against her, glinting off sweat, making a hundred stars shining against the midnight sky of her skin. Rebel’s need for touch lasts about as long as yours does, so you don’t stay on it long.
Sliding next to her you rest your head against her shoulder. Her throat works and you don’t dare resist the allure of nipping at her collar bone. Rebel grumbles beneath you. She’s hot, and her sweaty skin feels tacky as it cools in the winter air.
“Perhaps…next time we shall find somewhere that might bear us both.” Rebel whispers, trying to make you more comfortable. Her arms gently wrapping around you, like she’s scared of you falling off the seat.
“You’re the one who couldn’t wait.” Your voice is thick and exhausted. She runs her fingers along your back, enjoying you.
“I am not as prudent as I should be when it comes to…these sessions.” She admits, though you could have told her that.
You focus on Rebel’s heart, and thrill in your selfishness as you know you’re the only one it beats for. A revealing flash shines through the window, showing you the full beauty of her body. Rebel tilts her head to smell your hair. Her stomach flutters beneath the firm touch of your palm.
The night air presses closer but for just this moment it is you and her. Her nails scratch down your back, all at once a comforting reminder of her and a threat to not disrupt her comfort. Rebel’s nail scrapes along the back of your ear, her breath catching in a quiet laugh as your breath shudders. She’s a cat playing with her mouse.
Your fingers slide up her back, she adjusts so welcome your embrace. You only stop when your fingers dance along the hairs at the base of her skull. Rebel lets out a pleased little moan, her muscles unwind. Biceps, shoulders, even her pecs slowly relax beneath your cheek. Her breath slows down to a crawl in your ear, heart beat doing the same. But as your body begins to slip off the seat, you hook a leg up and that movement seems to be the most she can take.
Rebel groans and shifts beneath you. “Off,” she commands. You don’t question it. You’ve done this enough to know she dislikes being caged in. You expect Rebel to start getting dressed and pull you away to a proper place to sleep, where she can watch you without being forced to be held. That’s the usual way she ends these, but you let out a questioning hum as Rebel turns you to lay down instead.
Not arguing, you shift into place and Rebel flops down onto you. No consideration for the position like you had, no worrying about falling off. Just laying on you like a strangely shaped weighted blanket.
“Hold.” You don’t question this command either, letting her tuck her arms under yours while you wrap her in an embrace. Voice thick, she whispers once more. “We shall leave soon, but I will enjoy this first.”
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
In short? Your mouth, and her hands.
Rebel doesn’t understand the purpose of this question. Hell, she doesn’t understand the purpose of half the questions you ask during times like these.
“Was it good for you?” Of course it was, if Rebel wasn’t satisfied and happy then you and she wouldn’t be finished.
“Did I hurt you?” Of course you did, but Rebel asked you too so why worry?
“Will you stay?” Always.
And now you ask this? Is this a simple wandering of your thoughts, or does this question have more meaningful implications?
“I like all of you,” she whispers, a little confused because it’s true. What part of you is there not to like? Has another insulted you? Who would dare commit such an act? The thought of it is enough to make her boil. Her fingers tighten around the coarse sheets.
“That doesn’t count—” Your whisper sends a breath across Rebel’s hips, but it turns to a slightly raised concern. “Are you angry?”
“No.” She lies, and regrets it so immediately that she curses, “****. Yes, I suppose I am.”
“Why?”
She clenches her jaw. “This question…Has someone insulted you?”
The laugh you make is so sudden it finally makes her glance back to you.
An old quilt is draped across your body, exposing your bare shoulders and the curve of your neck. You’re forced to lay on your side, facing Rebel, as Inkwell has taken up residence in the bend of your knees. When you and Rebel first began this the poor cat nearly got squashed, but now he returns from whatever corner he hid in.
Rebel shouldn’t indulge in this too long, the sight alone is enough to get drunk on. As much as she wants to soak in every inch of it, that carries a risk of Rebel becoming immune to, or worse bored by it. So she blinks and turns away.
“No, nobody insulted me.” You trail a finger up Rebel’s spine and it makes her shudder.
She’s sitting up, her knees pressed to her chest, not covered like you. It’s always far too hot after ***. “Then you ask this question out of vanity?”
“Maybe,” you say and it brings a smile to her lips.
“Well, I suppose your ego is worth stroking,” she leans closer and runs a hand over your jaw, cupping your cheek. “You have quite a nice face…”
“You only like me for my looks then?” You ask, clearly attempting to goad another compliment from her.
“No….” Rebel barely finishes the syllable when you grab her wrist and press a kiss into it. Oh. She now understands the meaning of melting into someone. She watches the little movement of your mouth with an interest she has not felt in some time. Gently Rebel runs her thumb across your bottom lip. “This. If I had to choose my favorite part of you, it would be your mouth.”
“Naughty,” you hum and she can’t argue with that assessment.
“There is so much to enjoy about it…I enjoy the voice that comes from it. I enjoy its taste…how it leaves marks on me…” Rebel dips closer, sinking under the quilt with you until you’re eye to eye. Her hand never pulls away, and when she’s settled Rebel gently brings you closer to add in a whisper, “I believe it was made to take me.”
Whether that means claim her or be claimed by her is anyone’s guess.
“Naughty naughty naughty,” you chide and use that mouth of yours, smiling into the kiss. “And—” you ask, pulling away and leaving Rebel to whine, “—what’s your favorite part of your own body?”
“Oh, that’s simple. My hands.” How else can she hold you like this? Or use a knife? “Let me show you why it’s my favorite.”
Her hips rock, wanting to push deeper into your mouth as she lets out a final noise. She leans forward, hands tugging at your hair and pressing your face against navel. Your tongue teases her clit, she’s close, about to break. When your fingers slide into her she shudders, and when they hook the build up finally breaks. She spasms against you, her muscles drawing in as she grinds harder.
With a single hand splayed across her lower back you control her like a bucking horse. Keeping her pinned against your mouth and not letting up. You hum in approval, the vibrations of your tongue sending fissures through her mind.
Only when she lets out a low broken moan do you allow her to collapse, your fingers sliding out of her as she falls against your lap.
C = *** (anything to do with ***, basically)
For a thousand years it was obvious that you’d find your way to Rebel. She imagined every possible way it would click in your head that Aphrodite was a but a pitstop to your true partner. She imagined you begging, imagined you taking. She sometimes dreamt of you confessing by accident, or in secret. She could make this an excellent love affair. But in all those centuries, it was this moment that she tried to prevent herself from envisioning. This is essential for you and Rebel to be together, you know it, she knows it. So why was it such a terrifying prospect to even consider? She needs to see the outcome, see who will click into what role. Rebel’s fine with either, in fact would prefer to submit to you. But if she just allows it then it wouldn’t prove a thing, so she makes you work.
If you want to claim her you need to take it.
“Take it.”
Rebel’s fingers circle her clit as she grinds herself against your mouth.
Hungrily you accept your place in her capture. She growls and presses deeper against you, your hot breath being trapped as your mouth works.
“Fuh—” She whines, pressing against your tongue.
You allow yourself to be used and all she can do is watch you. Sweat beads across your face and you grab onto Rebel’s thighs, creating divet with your pinching fingers. She examines you, wondering if you’ll try to pull her off of your face, but then you recognize your place and press her thighs harder against your cheeks. Rebel could watch you work for days.
Her core tightens and her vision tunnels with bliss. Rebel clenches her jaw as she tries to hold the release back, only for your tongue to swirl around her clit and send her just to the edge, no further.
The world around Rebel shudders, every muscle in her body tensing until she’s as taut as a bowstring. She bites her finger, tears forming along her eyes and she’s barely able to see through them. Rebel whines, wanting to retreat, not wanting this to be over so quickly. But you don’t let her. The focus in your eyes can be mistaken for fury as you take her.
Her hips rock, wanting to push deeper into your mouth as she lets out a final noise. She leans forward, hands tugging at your hair and pressing your face against navel. Your tongue teases her clit, she’s close, about to break. When your fingers slide into her she shudders, and when they hook the build up finally breaks. She spasms against you, her muscles drawing in as she grinds harder.
With a single hand splayed across her lower back you control her like a bucking horse. Keeping her pinned against your mouth and not letting up. You hum in approval, the vibrations of your tongue sending fissures through her mind.
Only when she lets out a low broken moan do you allow her to collapse, your fingers sliding out of her as she falls against your lap.
Rebel takes raw and heavy breaths. Her body still shakes, but she steals every second she’s allowed to admire how beautiful you are with your face slick with her arousal. You gently raise a hand, examining your fingers, still pressed together and wet from her. So that’s the answer… Rebel claimed you first… She smiles, of course she would win. There was never a doubt.
Assuming this has finished, Rebel tries to shift, but your steady grip keeps her in place. When she looks back to you all that she can recognize is the dark cast to your gaze. Her muscles tense, and every inch of her recognizes the predator she’s in the claws of. With a smile she bucks her hips to escape, but your hold burns against her thighs like a brand, and you yank her back down. Either panic or excitement surges, Rebel isn’t sure which but knows she wants this all the same. Wants to be yours, even if it means she’s devoured.
Shakily Rebel settles in your lap. Licking across your lips, and with a voice as hungry as your eyes you whisper, “My turn.”
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Rebel likes to watch you pleasure yourself. She likes it more when you pleasure yourself whilst unaware that she is there. She won’t touch herself, but Rebel will watch with low steady breath. She will commit every possible detail to memory, every flutter of your muscles, every whine and rocking of your hips as you lose yourself. If in the throes of your own sensation you part your lips and whisper a needy “Rebel” she will lose all sense and join you. So, when you believe yourself to be alone just be sure to give her a show.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Before you? Either none, or just one. Rebel’s past relationship with Jammer will always (mostly) reflect Ares’s past relationship with Harper. In the routes that have a past relationship with Harper as either “Friends”, or “Confusing”, then Rebel will have not been with anyone intimately. But if your Ares was a past lover of Harper, then Rebel would have been with Jammer intimately. This is just for narrative differences between routes. In-universe they are not related.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
In short? Trapped beneath you after a long fight, or claiming you from above. Always laying down.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Rebel’s relative ignorance in both *** and relationships means she tends to be serious during the act of lovemaking, (And it is always lovemaking to her, even if done after or during a fight.) And she expects you to be serious too. If you aren’t, if you’re making jokes and laughing then Rebel will assume you’re making light of her, or that your mind is wandering because you aren’t enjoying it enough. Maybe much later Rebel will laugh and have fun in other ways during ***, but for now she’s serious.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Rebel doesn’t shave, she doesn’t like feeling smooth, doesn’t like the sight of it either. She’s maybe done it once some years ago because she thought she was meant to. But after seeing herself in a mirror it just made her feel like a child.
So Rebel lets everything grow out, only cutting it down during the hotter months to keep herself cool. Her hairs are coarse between her thighs.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Rebel’s very intimate. She shows it in other ways however. She will be focused entirely on you during the act, holding you, studying you, making sure you’re brought to the edge and kept there until she’s ready. She’ll be so focused on you that she may simply forget her own desires should be satisfied as well. This may unknowingly lead to her becoming sexually frustrated by her own accidental denial.
After the act she will lay with you, before eventually breaking off. After time has passed she will bring you something to eat and drink, and watch you rest.
J = Jack off (************ headcanon)
Hardly ever, it’s boring and unfulfilling. Rebel wants emotion, intensity, a kiss of venom and a choking embrace. She wants skin on skin. Even if you’re there, showing off, the best that can occur is Rebel getting ready for you. If you won’t touch her then Rebel won’t get off. It’s as simple as that.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
In short? Rebel likes to take, or be taken, by surprise. Preferably in the dark when it’s least expected, and with a struggle. Oh, what a delight you are, Rebel thinks. You step into your home with a grumble, the shadows concealing you entirely, save for your vague outline in the dark. She made sure of that, when she slipped into your residence she unscrewed every bulb in your home, closed most of the blinds as well. Though you look best bathed in her light, the moon would risk exposing her, so she only allowed the light to shine through a single window.
You click the lamp once, twice, nothing. Rebel follows you into the kitchen, a breath behind you, less so actually as she leans in to smell the sweat on your neck. What have you done to get so worked up? Had Jackie misused your talents again to send you on another job? No. This sweat doesn’t smell like that… There’s an aroma to it… who were you with?
You jerk around in surprise but Rebel effortlessly slips around you, ducking around your table. You look around the living room again and grumble something. She waits for you to return to the kitchen, click the switch again to find no response from the light.
She’s practiced for days by now, finding the perfect path in your home to tread silently. Your naivete sets desire alight in her core. Rebel wonders how long she can drag this out, how long can she let you feel safe before she reveals herself. Rebel could pull this out, she could make a noise here, take a breath there, and dodge around your gaze as you search for her. She wants to build it up, make you terrified before she strikes.
You fumble around the edge of your bed to find your charger. Rebel wonders if she can slip into your closet, then maybe through texts she can make you bothered enough to please yourself as she watches. Yes, that’s the better plan. Unfortunately someone else decides to interfere. There’s a buzz from your phone. A message, Rebel knows that much but from whom? No. This won’t do. It’s a full moon tonight and you aren’t allowed to think of another.
Rebel presses close to you, hands suddenly on your waist, teeth on the back of your shoulder with possessive hiss. You growl in surprise, and with a panic jut an elbow back. Rebel’s quick enough to slap it away. You struggle more and she hooks an arm around your neck. The choke brings a smile to her, as she jumps to wrap her legs around your waist.
“****—” you begin and Rebel grinds against you, tongue and teeth finding new places along your neck to latch and taste. You stumble back, adjusting to the weight before she leans forward, forcing you onto the bed.
She whispers in your ear, “Don’t yell.” And then lets out a pleased sound when you stop struggling entirely.
“Rebel?” You whisper in the dark, but you had to have known before you heard her voice. You gave in too quickly not to.
“Who else would it be?” She asks between pulling new marks to your skin with her mouth.
“Why are—Get off.” Your command is ignored, mocked even by her low laughter. Rebel’s hand snakes down your stomach and beneath your pants, which brings a low moan out of you. “What are you doing?”
“Taking.” She nips at your earlobe, her other arm tightening around your throat. Your hips shift to give her better access.
“****ing hate you—” you let out high whine, shifting at first to try and shove her off, but then submitting and tugging your own pants down.
“That’s it? No fight?”
“**** you,” the needy tone of your voice is all that Rebel needs to enjoy this.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Rebel wants you somewhere that won’t threaten to take your attention away from the act. She covets you in a safe, quiet, dark and warm place, somewhere comfortable. Preferably at home, where she can enjoy you entirely uninterrupted for however long you two desire.
That being said, being caught doesn’t actually matter to her. As long as she knows who will be doing the catching, and knows it won’t interrupt you. Hell, someone can be actively watching and as long as they aren’t distracting either you or her, and as long as they don’t think they’ll have a chance of claiming you, Rebel will allow it, even be thrilled by it.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
So many things. All of them involve you and you alone. The most prevalent is you showing your dominance in a fight. It will make her shiver with anticipation and you’ll be lucky to make it home before she’s on you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
I think of everyone Rebel will stop for the most reasons.
Rebel will not share you, she will not accept you speaking another’s name when intimate with her. Despite enjoying the fight-to-**** pipeline, if you two are in a rough patch or having an argument she won’t “**** out” the feelings. She wants you to be with her entirely, if you’re distracted she won’t continue even if you beg her to.
If Rebel isn’t in a safe place it's unlikely she will even kiss you unless emotions are high. She won’t roleplay in any way because Rebel wants you and if you’re acting like someone else she’ll grow bored. If you talk too much, or make jokes, or try to take it as anything but serious and intimate then Rebel will pull away frustrated, disappointed, and… well, sad. She’ll feel you take her seriously.
Rebel has truly terrible sensory issues, something that can be blamed on her divinity. So if it's too loud, if there’s even a slightly unpleasant texture on her skin, if there’s the wrong smell, or after she’s just eaten something, all can be reasons Rebel will say no. Rebel prefers you clean, so if you haven’t showered recently she’ll reject you, this rule however doesn’t apply to sweat, just general dirt and grime. It also doesn’t apply if you’ve just been in a fight. Then Rebel prefers you marred by battle, hot, and exhausted.
You can see an additional “no” in the Toys section.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
The answer should be obvious. Does Rebel get to taste you or be tasted by you? If so then she will enjoy it quite a lot. Either giving or receiving, though she is partial to you taking control, grabbing her by the back of her head and guiding her mouth to its destination.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Rebel’s preferred way is to have somewhere that the two of you won’t be disturbed because she takes her time, slowly, methodically, passionately. But she does not need to start somewhere secluded. No, in fact often when you’re with her Rebel is actively working you up. Her seduction can last several days if there fails to be an appropriate time. Several days where she observes your every movement, picking and choosing the perfect time to whisper in your ear, to touch your arm as she passes you, to brush her fingers against your thigh.
Honestly, it can be quite a song and dance with Rebel, and you’ll find yourself at home with a body on fire and her in your thoughts until you’re forced to crawl back to her or satisfy yourself. And Rebel knows that your own hand cannot compare to the things she would do.
That doesn’t even count the times she isn’t there. If able to, she will still watch you, of course. Choosing a time to text or call, maybe even taking care of any visitors who dare think they’ll get a crumb of your attention.
For Rebel, every second is foreplay and she oh so loves to take her time.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Contrary to the previous prompt; Rebel does also enjoy quickies…Provided they’re after, or perhaps even during a fight. When your body is hot and there’s blood smeared across your face Rebel will get so excited that she may not even be able to find a secluded place to begin.
Aside from that you’ll need to be doing something equally exciting, something to get her blood pumping and drive her hormones wild. Though what that will be you’ll have to figure out.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Oh Rebel loves a risk in any form. You hardly have to ask. It takes quite a lot to scare her, typically the only way to actually make her afraid is if the people she cares about are in danger. So, as long as you avoid mass casualties, or at least avoid the risk of her loved ones being part of the mass casualties, Rebel will be excited no matter the risk.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Rebel would have had a high endurance and quick recovery period even as a mortal. With her godly physique she will only stop when you cannot, or do not wish to continue, or when the emotions have died down inside of her. If you manage to keep the energy up, the emotions high, and the exhaustion at bay, then Rebel will eventually tire. Though it could take up to a full day of non-stop lovemaking.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
In short? Not a fan of toys used directly for ***, but does enjoy binding and collars.
Rebel scowls at your selection. With a hesitant finger she prods it, her mind unable to process how a device like that can even be sexual. As if by her touch, the toy comes alive with a gentle vibrating hum. Immediately Rebel’s hand retreats.
“No,” she says too quickly.
You play up your faux disappointment just enough to make Rebel huff a laugh as you put it back.
“Your tastes worry me, Lamb.”
“You wanted to come here, I’m just showing you the…” You flick a long rubber tentacle and tilt your head towards her as it shakes. “...boundless possibilities.”
Rebel snickers at the joke but grows bored of this aisle’s selection. She can only see so many phalluses before the shock wears away. “I did not come here for those,” she hums.
“Oh!” You let out a giddy laugh as you’re pulled to follow by the collar of your jacket. Excitement still in your voice you ask, “And what did you come here for?”
she glances at you from the corner of her eye, lips pressed between her teeth. “‘I fail to see how that is your concern.”
“Are you planning to use it on someone else?” You lower your voice as Rebel guides you past another couple.
A burst of annoyance fills her at that. Rebel wouldn’t let them shame you, in fact she’d rather you flaunt the truth of your relationship with her. Though Rebel does enjoy how easy it is to embarrass you. “Oh I’ll use it on you, Lamb. I simply enjoy seeing how you shiver with anticipation.” She doesn’t lower her voice letting it echo over the aisles. It has the desired effect when you duck your head. Like teasing a puppy. Which is fitting for your destination.
You let out a cough, as Rebel drags you into an aisle of leather and latex. Her grip unwavering, even as you stumble. “I should have expected this,” you whisper, as if the cuffs would come alive and bind you to the rack. Actually, Rebel may prefer that.
“Am I so obvious with my desires?” Rebel slows as she gets to the section she wants.
“Just this one,” you say, watching with dark eyes as she gently picks through the cuffs.
Most of these are wrong. Too hard, too soft, Rebel picks a set of cuffs up and pulls them apart, the chain snapping quicker than she expected it, the broken link flying somewhere even gods don’t know.
“Mhmm,” You take the broken cuff from Rebel’s hand oh so gently, the warmth of your fingers makes her own curl to hold you. The useless band is dropped back on the shelf. “And why are we buying these? I assumed you’d prefer…”
“Something more intrusive?” She walks backwards, letting you guide her now. “Jurry rigged?”
“I’d say surprising and improvised, but yes.”
It is true, Rebel’s leapt out with chains, and copper wiring more than once. But when she’s finished and tosses it aside, their purpose returns to what it was originally. There’s no lasting impact aside from the marks on your skin. Rebel’s fingers play over another cuff with a stronger chain, but when she goes to grab it you block her hands. Instead you reach above her head and grab a band that is fully leather.
The heat in your eyes is enough to burn the world. You allow Rebel to take it from you and she returns the dark look. “Imagine, Lamb.” She purrs, “You return home after a most horrid day, your back aches, the world is too loud, Your body sings with too many sensations…” She slips only one of your hands into the cuff, “And then I arrive.” Then your other. The leather hangs from your wrists. And Rebel’s body goes electric.
“With these?” You ask, and she laughs, yanking the strap and forcing your arms together. You teasingly try to pull it apart and the coy smile falls as you realize just how strong these ones are.
“Of course…” Rebel looks around and spies the leather padded collar and pulls it from the rack, “And this…and perhaps even a blindfold.”
You writhe your hands inside the leather but can’t weasel out. “So you want me to be stressed and trapped?”
“No,” she leans forward and raises the collar to your neck, not opening it but scrutinizing it. The color does not suit you, so she picks another, and another, before finding the perfect one. That one, she slips around your neck, the chain dangling in front of you. “I simply desire for you not needing to think, to let you sit back…” she tugs at the chain gently, jerking your head to follow so quick that Rebel needs to control herself before she leads you somewhere with fewer cameras. “...And do as I say.” She locks eyes with you again, “‘Twould be… most relaxing for you, I suspect.”
You open your mouth to speak but the couple from before step into the aisle, their eyes go wide as they see you cuffed and collared. You turn to look at the ground, so Rebel pulls your collar again to keep your eyes on her.
“Perhaps I shall entrust these to you when we’re finished. So you may see them hanging from your bed posts, and draw comfort in knowing you’re mine.”
You try to answer with words, but can only let out a whispered whine.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Extremely.
Rebel thinks of you as her sole equal and that will never change. You two are above all others, it is a simple fact of the universe… but that only means the changes in power are all the more enticing for intimate moments. She will only let you feel that you are on equal footing with her in the most romantic of times. Every other second is one she can spend being a menace.
If you’re more dominant then Rebel will be a bit of a brat. She may tease, annoy, evade, or even fight back when you’re together. Anything to frustrate you and to the point that you have to prove your dominance over her. You’ll learn the best way to show Rebel the consequences of annoying her betters.
If you’re more submissive then Rebel will leave you wanting for hours, coming back to tease you, pull you to the edge of satisfaction and keep you there. She loves to play with her food and you are by no means an exception. Rebel will tease you until you’re teary-eyed and whining, and only then will she claim you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Rebel is not loud during intimate moments by any means, but she isn’t silent either. Rebel will talk to you, in your ear she will whisper sweet, or teasing words, but her voice will not scream. There will be no loud declarations of love when you’re with her, just quiet promises of what will happen next.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
I can’t quite say. I feel like I’ve shown that as long as Rebel’s comfortable she’ll do most anything. But to circle back to the Location prompt from before…
In short? Rebel would enjoy it quite a lot if she could claim you in front of others, as a way to show off that you’re her and she’s yours. If not that, she will mark you in other ways and would want you to mark her. “Why are you laughing?” Rebel asks.
“You don’t find it funny?” You ask, the nervous vulnerable laughter dying away.
“Lamb, how are your own desires funny?”
You shrug, which irritates Rebel. There’s no need to be nervous with her, even still your words are laced with anxiety as you speak. “Well…that’s my dirtiest secret.”
“I have seen what makes you tick, that is hardly a secret.” She scoffs.
You press a finger into her stomach, prodding her on, “Well, now’s a chance to one-up me. Go on.” Rebel grumbles from the attack, and takes in the view as she thinks. Central Park is a fine place, Rebel supposes. It doesn’t hold a candle to the beauty of real nature. Everything here is… organized. Cut down and pruned so much that it is more of a diorama than anything real. How she craves to just walk in a proper forest again. She spends too long in the city, it isn’t right for a god of the hunt. The balustrade of the bridge presses into her ribs, forcing her to face you instead, an infinitely better view in her opinion.
Rebel doesn’t have dirty secrets, everything she wants she takes. Like you. She wants you here and now. So why can’t she have you?
Some joggers run past and Rebel nearly trips them. They’re why, of course. People running, walking, enjoying this sham of a forest and intruding on her time with you. She wants you now and she doesn’t care if anyone sees. You and Rebel are gods, it’s not like anyone can stop you. That isn’t a secret though, not to you. Of course Rebel would want that, she knows you want it too. Otherwise this conversation wouldn’t be happening so early in the morning.
But maybe it’s enough to satisfy you…it will be enough to satisfy Rebel, certainly.
“Fine, my dirty secret…” She leans in looking up at you with wide eyes, “I want you here and now.”
“As much as I like to hear that, it isn’t a dirty secret.” You murmur, leaning in closer, the air around you and Rebel getting hotter.
Rebel takes a step further, putting a hand on your hip and making you breathe out a delightful sound when she pivots to push you against the railing instead. “Hmm, I do not think you understand. I want you here and now.” Her fingers slip beneath your waistband and you let a nervous laugh out.
“We can go back to my place…”
“I did not say your place, I said here and now.” She wonders how far you’ll let her go. Maybe just this once you’ll release your inhibitions.
Rebel hears another jogger approaching from behind her. Your eyes widen and you move to block the view of her hand in your pants. They pass by without a second thought and she slides a finger further. “There are people,” you protest.
“I fail to see how it matters, Lamb.”
“They—” you take a breath as Rebel works you, “This is a good way to get put on a list.”
“Let them.”
“****… Rebel, someone will try to—”
“They will try nothing. They cannot stop us, Lamb.” Rebel kisses your neck and you lean your head back, rocking your hips with her hand. “And if they try to take you from me…” her whisper in your ear causes you to whine loud enough to draw attention, “...then I will kill them.”
Rebel’s hand moves quicker, and you meet her pace, losing yourself entirely. Gripping onto her shoulder for support you lean back, your pelvis moving in rhythm. Right in the open, the lake to your back, on a jogging path, free for anyone to see. Your breath fogs the air around you, the morning light peeking from between buildings just to light your clouds in orange and yellow. Finally, she’s always wanted you to breathe fire. If it wasn’t for the winter air Rebel would have stripped you of your clothes.
You finish, trying to contain your moan even as it bubbles out of you in a wrecked sigh. Rebel drinks in every shiver, slowly pulling her hand from your pants. You desperately pull them up, making it just in time for two more joggers to cross beside you two. It doesn’t matter if they saw or not, Rebel’s entire focus is the mess you made between her fingers. “Mhm…we shall do this often, Lamb.”
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
If you’re looking for impressive sizes you won’t be finding them on Rebel. Her breasts are below average, and she prefers it that way. If they were larger then Rebel would have probably got a reduction as soon as it was possible.
She also doesn’t shave her body hair, be it on her legs, arms, or in more intimate areas.
Rebel’s hips and arms are deceptively unshapely, giving one the impression of a weak individual. But that’s only because Rebel likes to stay thin and unassuming, her godly physique keeps her plenty strong even without working out. So Rebel mostly does cardio mostly, giving her a tightly wound and lean body. Her skin is a dark rich brown, and through the entirety it’s nearly unblemished, save for three small beauty marks down her lower back.. and the multitude of light scars. The majority of which are across her arms, shoulders, and chest. But scars still line up her stomach, back, and thighs as well. They are by far the most striking part of her body, and she likes to show them off. Rebel has no tattoos and would only be willing to get one if either you or Jammer asked for matching ones.
Y = Yearning (how high is their *** drive?)
When away Rebel’s focus goes to other matters. She has hobbies and her own friends and work, as such she doesn’t often desire ***. But when you’re with her Rebel will find herself with an annoying and new need. A need that she’s felt before but not often.
The first days of your relationship will be the worst. Rebel will burn and writhe during the nights, and may even intrude in your home just to help satisfy her. Though, as you become more attuned with each other, and your presence becomes familiar in her life, then Rebel’s desires will simmer. Though it will never be as low as it was before you set her world on fire.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
If you’re a cuddler then Rebel will allow it, and stay awake until she no longer wants to be held. If you’re not a cuddler, or after Rebel breaks away if you are one, she will not stay awake long at all. Rebel will scoot to the other side of the bed and watch you sleep until she too succumbs. Sleep will come swiftly for her, but she won’t stay awake for long periods of time.
You may often find yourself waking up at 3am alone in bed, only to find Rebel working on some project in the moonlight. But this will be the same for most nights, regardless if you’ve laid with her or not. You may call her back to bed and Rebel will realize just how exhausted she is, or you can drift back to sleep, the sound of her work becoming a lullaby for you alone.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after ***)
In short? Immediately after she's very lazy, she'd like to cuddle for a bit, but it doesn’t last forever. Rebel will savor you though.
Rebel’s body is taut. Against the car seat she takes rapid hungry breaths of air. Eyes screwed shut as the last waves of pleasure wash over her. You have to hold her hips down until the ecstasy washes away. Rebel’s hands are gripped so tight against the seat that the leather has torn. Whatever, you’re not sure whose car this is but you know it isn’t your problem. However, what is your problem is the now lazy body of your lover.
She doesn’t move, staying wedged against the back. There is very little room and you know Rebel has no desire to stay, but still she loosely opens her arms and you readily accept the invitation. You can only take a moment to admire the moonlight shining against her, glinting off sweat, making a hundred stars shining against the midnight sky of her skin. Rebel’s need for touch lasts about as long as yours does, so you don’t stay on it long.
Sliding next to her you rest your head against her shoulder. Her throat works and you don’t dare resist the allure of nipping at her collar bone. Rebel grumbles beneath you. She’s hot, and her sweaty skin feels tacky as it cools in the winter air.
“Perhaps…next time we shall find somewhere that might bear us both.” Rebel whispers, trying to make you more comfortable. Her arms gently wrapping around you, like she’s scared of you falling off the seat.
“You’re the one who couldn’t wait.” Your voice is thick and exhausted. She runs her fingers along your back, enjoying you.
“I am not as prudent as I should be when it comes to…these sessions.” She admits, though you could have told her that.
You focus on Rebel’s heart, and thrill in your selfishness as you know you’re the only one it beats for. A revealing flash shines through the window, showing you the full beauty of her body. Rebel tilts her head to smell your hair. Her stomach flutters beneath the firm touch of your palm.
The night air presses closer but for just this moment it is you and her. Her nails scratch down your back, all at once a comforting reminder of her and a threat to not disrupt her comfort. Rebel’s nail scrapes along the back of your ear, her breath catching in a quiet laugh as your breath shudders. She’s a cat playing with her mouse.
Your fingers slide up her back, she adjusts so welcome your embrace. You only stop when your fingers dance along the hairs at the base of her skull. Rebel lets out a pleased little moan, her muscles unwind. Biceps, shoulders, even her pecs slowly relax beneath your cheek. Her breath slows down to a crawl in your ear, heart beat doing the same. But as your body begins to slip off the seat, you hook a leg up and that movement seems to be the most she can take.
Rebel groans and shifts beneath you. “Off,” she commands. You don’t question it. You’ve done this enough to know she dislikes being caged in. You expect Rebel to start getting dressed and pull you away to a proper place to sleep, where she can watch you without being forced to be held. That’s the usual way she ends these, but you let out a questioning hum as Rebel turns you to lay down instead.
Not arguing, you shift into place and Rebel flops down onto you. No consideration for the position like you had, no worrying about falling off. Just laying on you like a strangely shaped weighted blanket.
“Hold.” You don’t question this command either, letting her tuck her arms under yours while you wrap her in an embrace. Voice thick, she whispers once more. “We shall leave soon, but I will enjoy this first.”
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
In short? Your mouth, and her hands.
Rebel doesn’t understand the purpose of this question. Hell, she doesn’t understand the purpose of half the questions you ask during times like these.
“Was it good for you?” Of course it was, if Rebel wasn’t satisfied and happy then you and she wouldn’t be finished.
“Did I hurt you?” Of course you did, but Rebel asked you too so why worry?
“Will you stay?” Always.
And now you ask this? Is this a simple wandering of your thoughts, or does this question have more meaningful implications?
“I like all of you,” she whispers, a little confused because it’s true. What part of you is there not to like? Has another insulted you? Who would dare commit such an act? The thought of it is enough to make her boil. Her fingers tighten around the coarse sheets.
“That doesn’t count—” Your whisper sends a breath across Rebel’s hips, but it turns to a slightly raised concern. “Are you angry?”
“No.” She lies, and regrets it so immediately that she curses, “****. Yes, I suppose I am.”
“Why?”
She clenches her jaw. “This question…Has someone insulted you?”
The laugh you make is so sudden it finally makes her glance back to you.
An old quilt is draped across your body, exposing your bare shoulders and the curve of your neck. You’re forced to lay on your side, facing Rebel, as Inkwell has taken up residence in the bend of your knees. When you and Rebel first began this the poor cat nearly got squashed, but now he returns from whatever corner he hid in.
Rebel shouldn’t indulge in this too long, the sight alone is enough to get drunk on. As much as she wants to soak in every inch of it, that carries a risk of Rebel becoming immune to, or worse bored by it. So she blinks and turns away.
“No, nobody insulted me.” You trail a finger up Rebel’s spine and it makes her shudder.
She’s sitting up, her knees pressed to her chest, not covered like you. It’s always far too hot after ***. “Then you ask this question out of vanity?”
“Maybe,” you say and it brings a smile to her lips.
“Well, I suppose your ego is worth stroking,” she leans closer and runs a hand over your jaw, cupping your cheek. “You have quite a nice face…”
“You only like me for my looks then?” You ask, clearly attempting to goad another compliment from her.
“No….” Rebel barely finishes the syllable when you grab her wrist and press a kiss into it. Oh. She now understands the meaning of melting into someone. She watches the little movement of your mouth with an interest she has not felt in some time. Gently Rebel runs her thumb across your bottom lip. “This. If I had to choose my favorite part of you, it would be your mouth.”
“Naughty,” you hum and she can’t argue with that assessment.
“There is so much to enjoy about it…I enjoy the voice that comes from it. I enjoy its taste…how it leaves marks on me…” Rebel dips closer, sinking under the quilt with you until you’re eye to eye. Her hand never pulls away, and when she’s settled Rebel gently brings you closer to add in a whisper, “I believe it was made to take me.”
Whether that means claim her or be claimed by her is anyone’s guess.
“Naughty naughty naughty,” you chide and use that mouth of yours, smiling into the kiss. “And—” you ask, pulling away and leaving Rebel to whine, “—what’s your favorite part of your own body?”
“Oh, that’s simple. My hands.” How else can she hold you like this? Or use a knife? “Let me show you why it’s my favorite.”
Her hips rock, wanting to push deeper into your mouth as she lets out a final noise. She leans forward, hands tugging at your hair and pressing your face against navel. Your tongue teases her clit, she’s close, about to break. When your fingers slide into her she shudders, and when they hook the build up finally breaks. She spasms against you, her muscles drawing in as she grinds harder.
With a single hand splayed across her lower back you control her like a bucking horse. Keeping her pinned against your mouth and not letting up. You hum in approval, the vibrations of your tongue sending fissures through her mind.
Only when she lets out a low broken moan do you allow her to collapse, your fingers sliding out of her as she falls against your lap.
C = *** (anything to do with ***, basically)
For a thousand years it was obvious that you’d find your way to Rebel. She imagined every possible way it would click in your head that Aphrodite was a but a pitstop to your true partner. She imagined you begging, imagined you taking. She sometimes dreamt of you confessing by accident, or in secret. She could make this an excellent love affair. But in all those centuries, it was this moment that she tried to prevent herself from envisioning. This is essential for you and Rebel to be together, you know it, she knows it. So why was it such a terrifying prospect to even consider? She needs to see the outcome, see who will click into what role. Rebel’s fine with either, in fact would prefer to submit to you. But if she just allows it then it wouldn’t prove a thing, so she makes you work.
If you want to claim her you need to take it.
“Take it.”
Rebel’s fingers circle her clit as she grinds herself against your mouth.
Hungrily you accept your place in her capture. She growls and presses deeper against you, your hot breath being trapped as your mouth works.
“Fuh—” She whines, pressing against your tongue.
You allow yourself to be used and all she can do is watch you. Sweat beads across your face and you grab onto Rebel’s thighs, creating divet with your pinching fingers. She examines you, wondering if you’ll try to pull her off of your face, but then you recognize your place and press her thighs harder against your cheeks. Rebel could watch you work for days.
Her core tightens and her vision tunnels with bliss. Rebel clenches her jaw as she tries to hold the release back, only for your tongue to swirl around her clit and send her just to the edge, no further.
The world around Rebel shudders, every muscle in her body tensing until she’s as taut as a bowstring. She bites her finger, tears forming along her eyes and she’s barely able to see through them. Rebel whines, wanting to retreat, not wanting this to be over so quickly. But you don’t let her. The focus in your eyes can be mistaken for fury as you take her.
Her hips rock, wanting to push deeper into your mouth as she lets out a final noise. She leans forward, hands tugging at your hair and pressing your face against navel. Your tongue teases her clit, she’s close, about to break. When your fingers slide into her she shudders, and when they hook the build up finally breaks. She spasms against you, her muscles drawing in as she grinds harder.
With a single hand splayed across her lower back you control her like a bucking horse. Keeping her pinned against your mouth and not letting up. You hum in approval, the vibrations of your tongue sending fissures through her mind.
Only when she lets out a low broken moan do you allow her to collapse, your fingers sliding out of her as she falls against your lap.
Rebel takes raw and heavy breaths. Her body still shakes, but she steals every second she’s allowed to admire how beautiful you are with your face slick with her arousal. You gently raise a hand, examining your fingers, still pressed together and wet from her. So that’s the answer… Rebel claimed you first… She smiles, of course she would win. There was never a doubt.
Assuming this has finished, Rebel tries to shift, but your steady grip keeps her in place. When she looks back to you all that she can recognize is the dark cast to your gaze. Her muscles tense, and every inch of her recognizes the predator she’s in the claws of. With a smile she bucks her hips to escape, but your hold burns against her thighs like a brand, and you yank her back down. Either panic or excitement surges, Rebel isn’t sure which but knows she wants this all the same. Wants to be yours, even if it means she’s devoured.
Shakily Rebel settles in your lap. Licking across your lips, and with a voice as hungry as your eyes you whisper, “My turn.”
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Rebel likes to watch you pleasure yourself. She likes it more when you pleasure yourself whilst unaware that she is there. She won’t touch herself, but Rebel will watch with low steady breath. She will commit every possible detail to memory, every flutter of your muscles, every whine and rocking of your hips as you lose yourself. If in the throes of your own sensation you part your lips and whisper a needy “Rebel” she will lose all sense and join you. So, when you believe yourself to be alone just be sure to give her a show.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Before you? Either none, or just one. Rebel’s past relationship with Jammer will always (mostly) reflect Ares’s past relationship with Harper. In the routes that have a past relationship with Harper as either “Friends”, or “Confusing”, then Rebel will have not been with anyone intimately. But if your Ares was a past lover of Harper, then Rebel would have been with Jammer intimately. This is just for narrative differences between routes. In-universe they are not related.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
In short? Trapped beneath you after a long fight, or claiming you from above. Always laying down.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Rebel’s relative ignorance in both *** and relationships means she tends to be serious during the act of lovemaking, (And it is always lovemaking to her, even if done after or during a fight.) And she expects you to be serious too. If you aren’t, if you’re making jokes and laughing then Rebel will assume you’re making light of her, or that your mind is wandering because you aren’t enjoying it enough. Maybe much later Rebel will laugh and have fun in other ways during ***, but for now she’s serious.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Rebel doesn’t shave, she doesn’t like feeling smooth, doesn’t like the sight of it either. She’s maybe done it once some years ago because she thought she was meant to. But after seeing herself in a mirror it just made her feel like a child.
So Rebel lets everything grow out, only cutting it down during the hotter months to keep herself cool. Her hairs are coarse between her thighs.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Rebel’s very intimate. She shows it in other ways however. She will be focused entirely on you during the act, holding you, studying you, making sure you’re brought to the edge and kept there until she’s ready. She’ll be so focused on you that she may simply forget her own desires should be satisfied as well. This may unknowingly lead to her becoming sexually frustrated by her own accidental denial.
After the act she will lay with you, before eventually breaking off. After time has passed she will bring you something to eat and drink, and watch you rest.
J = Jack off (************ headcanon)
Hardly ever, it’s boring and unfulfilling. Rebel wants emotion, intensity, a kiss of venom and a choking embrace. She wants skin on skin. Even if you’re there, showing off, the best that can occur is Rebel getting ready for you. If you won’t touch her then Rebel won’t get off. It’s as simple as that.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
In short? Rebel likes to take, or be taken, by surprise. Preferably in the dark when it’s least expected, and with a struggle. Oh, what a delight you are, Rebel thinks. You step into your home with a grumble, the shadows concealing you entirely, save for your vague outline in the dark. She made sure of that, when she slipped into your residence she unscrewed every bulb in your home, closed most of the blinds as well. Though you look best bathed in her light, the moon would risk exposing her, so she only allowed the light to shine through a single window.
You click the lamp once, twice, nothing. Rebel follows you into the kitchen, a breath behind you, less so actually as she leans in to smell the sweat on your neck. What have you done to get so worked up? Had Jackie misused your talents again to send you on another job? No. This sweat doesn’t smell like that… There’s an aroma to it… who were you with?
You jerk around in surprise but Rebel effortlessly slips around you, ducking around your table. You look around the living room again and grumble something. She waits for you to return to the kitchen, click the switch again to find no response from the light.
She’s practiced for days by now, finding the perfect path in your home to tread silently. Your naivete sets desire alight in her core. Rebel wonders how long she can drag this out, how long can she let you feel safe before she reveals herself. Rebel could pull this out, she could make a noise here, take a breath there, and dodge around your gaze as you search for her. She wants to build it up, make you terrified before she strikes.
You fumble around the edge of your bed to find your charger. Rebel wonders if she can slip into your closet, then maybe through texts she can make you bothered enough to please yourself as she watches. Yes, that’s the better plan. Unfortunately someone else decides to interfere. There’s a buzz from your phone. A message, Rebel knows that much but from whom? No. This won’t do. It’s a full moon tonight and you aren’t allowed to think of another.
Rebel presses close to you, hands suddenly on your waist, teeth on the back of your shoulder with possessive hiss. You growl in surprise, and with a panic jut an elbow back. Rebel’s quick enough to slap it away. You struggle more and she hooks an arm around your neck. The choke brings a smile to her, as she jumps to wrap her legs around your waist.
“****—” you begin and Rebel grinds against you, tongue and teeth finding new places along your neck to latch and taste. You stumble back, adjusting to the weight before she leans forward, forcing you onto the bed.
She whispers in your ear, “Don’t yell.” And then lets out a pleased sound when you stop struggling entirely.
“Rebel?” You whisper in the dark, but you had to have known before you heard her voice. You gave in too quickly not to.
“Who else would it be?” She asks between pulling new marks to your skin with her mouth.
“Why are—Get off.” Your command is ignored, mocked even by her low laughter. Rebel’s hand snakes down your stomach and beneath your pants, which brings a low moan out of you. “What are you doing?”
“Taking.” She nips at your earlobe, her other arm tightening around your throat. Your hips shift to give her better access.
“****ing hate you—” you let out high whine, shifting at first to try and shove her off, but then submitting and tugging your own pants down.
“That’s it? No fight?”
“**** you,” the needy tone of your voice is all that Rebel needs to enjoy this.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Rebel wants you somewhere that won’t threaten to take your attention away from the act. She covets you in a safe, quiet, dark and warm place, somewhere comfortable. Preferably at home, where she can enjoy you entirely uninterrupted for however long you two desire.
That being said, being caught doesn’t actually matter to her. As long as she knows who will be doing the catching, and knows it won’t interrupt you. Hell, someone can be actively watching and as long as they aren’t distracting either you or her, and as long as they don’t think they’ll have a chance of claiming you, Rebel will allow it, even be thrilled by it.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
So many things. All of them involve you and you alone. The most prevalent is you showing your dominance in a fight. It will make her shiver with anticipation and you’ll be lucky to make it home before she’s on you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
I think of everyone Rebel will stop for the most reasons.
Rebel will not share you, she will not accept you speaking another’s name when intimate with her. Despite enjoying the fight-to-**** pipeline, if you two are in a rough patch or having an argument she won’t “**** out” the feelings. She wants you to be with her entirely, if you’re distracted she won’t continue even if you beg her to.
If Rebel isn’t in a safe place it's unlikely she will even kiss you unless emotions are high. She won’t roleplay in any way because Rebel wants you and if you’re acting like someone else she’ll grow bored. If you talk too much, or make jokes, or try to take it as anything but serious and intimate then Rebel will pull away frustrated, disappointed, and… well, sad. She’ll feel you take her seriously.
Rebel has truly terrible sensory issues, something that can be blamed on her divinity. So if it's too loud, if there’s even a slightly unpleasant texture on her skin, if there’s the wrong smell, or after she’s just eaten something, all can be reasons Rebel will say no. Rebel prefers you clean, so if you haven’t showered recently she’ll reject you, this rule however doesn’t apply to sweat, just general dirt and grime. It also doesn’t apply if you’ve just been in a fight. Then Rebel prefers you marred by battle, hot, and exhausted.
You can see an additional “no” in the Toys section.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
The answer should be obvious. Does Rebel get to taste you or be tasted by you? If so then she will enjoy it quite a lot. Either giving or receiving, though she is partial to you taking control, grabbing her by the back of her head and guiding her mouth to its destination.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Rebel’s preferred way is to have somewhere that the two of you won’t be disturbed because she takes her time, slowly, methodically, passionately. But she does not need to start somewhere secluded. No, in fact often when you’re with her Rebel is actively working you up. Her seduction can last several days if there fails to be an appropriate time. Several days where she observes your every movement, picking and choosing the perfect time to whisper in your ear, to touch your arm as she passes you, to brush her fingers against your thigh.
Honestly, it can be quite a song and dance with Rebel, and you’ll find yourself at home with a body on fire and her in your thoughts until you’re forced to crawl back to her or satisfy yourself. And Rebel knows that your own hand cannot compare to the things she would do.
That doesn’t even count the times she isn’t there. If able to, she will still watch you, of course. Choosing a time to text or call, maybe even taking care of any visitors who dare think they’ll get a crumb of your attention.
For Rebel, every second is foreplay and she oh so loves to take her time.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Contrary to the previous prompt; Rebel does also enjoy quickies…Provided they’re after, or perhaps even during a fight. When your body is hot and there’s blood smeared across your face Rebel will get so excited that she may not even be able to find a secluded place to begin.
Aside from that you’ll need to be doing something equally exciting, something to get her blood pumping and drive her hormones wild. Though what that will be you’ll have to figure out.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Oh Rebel loves a risk in any form. You hardly have to ask. It takes quite a lot to scare her, typically the only way to actually make her afraid is if the people she cares about are in danger. So, as long as you avoid mass casualties, or at least avoid the risk of her loved ones being part of the mass casualties, Rebel will be excited no matter the risk.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Rebel would have had a high endurance and quick recovery period even as a mortal. With her godly physique she will only stop when you cannot, or do not wish to continue, or when the emotions have died down inside of her. If you manage to keep the energy up, the emotions high, and the exhaustion at bay, then Rebel will eventually tire. Though it could take up to a full day of non-stop lovemaking.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
In short? Not a fan of toys used directly for ***, but does enjoy binding and collars.
Rebel scowls at your selection. With a hesitant finger she prods it, her mind unable to process how a device like that can even be sexual. As if by her touch, the toy comes alive with a gentle vibrating hum. Immediately Rebel’s hand retreats.
“No,” she says too quickly.
You play up your faux disappointment just enough to make Rebel huff a laugh as you put it back.
“Your tastes worry me, Lamb.”
“You wanted to come here, I’m just showing you the…” You flick a long rubber tentacle and tilt your head towards her as it shakes. “...boundless possibilities.”
Rebel snickers at the joke but grows bored of this aisle’s selection. She can only see so many phalluses before the shock wears away. “I did not come here for those,” she hums.
“Oh!” You let out a giddy laugh as you’re pulled to follow by the collar of your jacket. Excitement still in your voice you ask, “And what did you come here for?”
she glances at you from the corner of her eye, lips pressed between her teeth. “‘I fail to see how that is your concern.”
“Are you planning to use it on someone else?” You lower your voice as Rebel guides you past another couple.
A burst of annoyance fills her at that. Rebel wouldn’t let them shame you, in fact she’d rather you flaunt the truth of your relationship with her. Though Rebel does enjoy how easy it is to embarrass you. “Oh I’ll use it on you, Lamb. I simply enjoy seeing how you shiver with anticipation.” She doesn’t lower her voice letting it echo over the aisles. It has the desired effect when you duck your head. Like teasing a puppy. Which is fitting for your destination.
You let out a cough, as Rebel drags you into an aisle of leather and latex. Her grip unwavering, even as you stumble. “I should have expected this,” you whisper, as if the cuffs would come alive and bind you to the rack. Actually, Rebel may prefer that.
“Am I so obvious with my desires?” Rebel slows as she gets to the section she wants.
“Just this one,” you say, watching with dark eyes as she gently picks through the cuffs.
Most of these are wrong. Too hard, too soft, Rebel picks a set of cuffs up and pulls them apart, the chain snapping quicker than she expected it, the broken link flying somewhere even gods don’t know.
“Mhmm,” You take the broken cuff from Rebel’s hand oh so gently, the warmth of your fingers makes her own curl to hold you. The useless band is dropped back on the shelf. “And why are we buying these? I assumed you’d prefer…”
“Something more intrusive?” She walks backwards, letting you guide her now. “Jurry rigged?”
“I’d say surprising and improvised, but yes.”
It is true, Rebel’s leapt out with chains, and copper wiring more than once. But when she’s finished and tosses it aside, their purpose returns to what it was originally. There’s no lasting impact aside from the marks on your skin. Rebel’s fingers play over another cuff with a stronger chain, but when she goes to grab it you block her hands. Instead you reach above her head and grab a band that is fully leather.
The heat in your eyes is enough to burn the world. You allow Rebel to take it from you and she returns the dark look. “Imagine, Lamb.” She purrs, “You return home after a most horrid day, your back aches, the world is too loud, Your body sings with too many sensations…” She slips only one of your hands into the cuff, “And then I arrive.” Then your other. The leather hangs from your wrists. And Rebel’s body goes electric.
“With these?” You ask, and she laughs, yanking the strap and forcing your arms together. You teasingly try to pull it apart and the coy smile falls as you realize just how strong these ones are.
“Of course…” Rebel looks around and spies the leather padded collar and pulls it from the rack, “And this…and perhaps even a blindfold.”
You writhe your hands inside the leather but can’t weasel out. “So you want me to be stressed and trapped?”
“No,” she leans forward and raises the collar to your neck, not opening it but scrutinizing it. The color does not suit you, so she picks another, and another, before finding the perfect one. That one, she slips around your neck, the chain dangling in front of you. “I simply desire for you not needing to think, to let you sit back…” she tugs at the chain gently, jerking your head to follow so quick that Rebel needs to control herself before she leads you somewhere with fewer cameras. “...And do as I say.” She locks eyes with you again, “‘Twould be… most relaxing for you, I suspect.”
You open your mouth to speak but the couple from before step into the aisle, their eyes go wide as they see you cuffed and collared. You turn to look at the ground, so Rebel pulls your collar again to keep your eyes on her.
“Perhaps I shall entrust these to you when we’re finished. So you may see them hanging from your bed posts, and draw comfort in knowing you’re mine.”
You try to answer with words, but can only let out a whispered whine.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Extremely.
Rebel thinks of you as her sole equal and that will never change. You two are above all others, it is a simple fact of the universe… but that only means the changes in power are all the more enticing for intimate moments. She will only let you feel that you are on equal footing with her in the most romantic of times. Every other second is one she can spend being a menace.
If you’re more dominant then Rebel will be a bit of a brat. She may tease, annoy, evade, or even fight back when you’re together. Anything to frustrate you and to the point that you have to prove your dominance over her. You’ll learn the best way to show Rebel the consequences of annoying her betters.
If you’re more submissive then Rebel will leave you wanting for hours, coming back to tease you, pull you to the edge of satisfaction and keep you there. She loves to play with her food and you are by no means an exception. Rebel will tease you until you’re teary-eyed and whining, and only then will she claim you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Rebel is not loud during intimate moments by any means, but she isn’t silent either. Rebel will talk to you, in your ear she will whisper sweet, or teasing words, but her voice will not scream. There will be no loud declarations of love when you’re with her, just quiet promises of what will happen next.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
I can’t quite say. I feel like I’ve shown that as long as Rebel’s comfortable she’ll do most anything. But to circle back to the Location prompt from before…
In short? Rebel would enjoy it quite a lot if she could claim you in front of others, as a way to show off that you’re her and she’s yours. If not that, she will mark you in other ways and would want you to mark her. “Why are you laughing?” Rebel asks.
“You don’t find it funny?” You ask, the nervous vulnerable laughter dying away.
“Lamb, how are your own desires funny?”
You shrug, which irritates Rebel. There’s no need to be nervous with her, even still your words are laced with anxiety as you speak. “Well…that’s my dirtiest secret.”
“I have seen what makes you tick, that is hardly a secret.” She scoffs.
You press a finger into her stomach, prodding her on, “Well, now’s a chance to one-up me. Go on.” Rebel grumbles from the attack, and takes in the view as she thinks. Central Park is a fine place, Rebel supposes. It doesn’t hold a candle to the beauty of real nature. Everything here is… organized. Cut down and pruned so much that it is more of a diorama than anything real. How she craves to just walk in a proper forest again. She spends too long in the city, it isn’t right for a god of the hunt. The balustrade of the bridge presses into her ribs, forcing her to face you instead, an infinitely better view in her opinion.
Rebel doesn’t have dirty secrets, everything she wants she takes. Like you. She wants you here and now. So why can’t she have you?
Some joggers run past and Rebel nearly trips them. They’re why, of course. People running, walking, enjoying this sham of a forest and intruding on her time with you. She wants you now and she doesn’t care if anyone sees. You and Rebel are gods, it’s not like anyone can stop you. That isn’t a secret though, not to you. Of course Rebel would want that, she knows you want it too. Otherwise this conversation wouldn’t be happening so early in the morning.
But maybe it’s enough to satisfy you…it will be enough to satisfy Rebel, certainly.
“Fine, my dirty secret…” She leans in looking up at you with wide eyes, “I want you here and now.”
“As much as I like to hear that, it isn’t a dirty secret.” You murmur, leaning in closer, the air around you and Rebel getting hotter.
Rebel takes a step further, putting a hand on your hip and making you breathe out a delightful sound when she pivots to push you against the railing instead. “Hmm, I do not think you understand. I want you here and now.” Her fingers slip beneath your waistband and you let a nervous laugh out.
“We can go back to my place…”
“I did not say your place, I said here and now.” She wonders how far you’ll let her go. Maybe just this once you’ll release your inhibitions.
Rebel hears another jogger approaching from behind her. Your eyes widen and you move to block the view of her hand in your pants. They pass by without a second thought and she slides a finger further. “There are people,” you protest.
“I fail to see how it matters, Lamb.”
“They—” you take a breath as Rebel works you, “This is a good way to get put on a list.”
“Let them.”
“****… Rebel, someone will try to—”
“They will try nothing. They cannot stop us, Lamb.” Rebel kisses your neck and you lean your head back, rocking your hips with her hand. “And if they try to take you from me…” her whisper in your ear causes you to whine loud enough to draw attention, “...then I will kill them.”
Rebel’s hand moves quicker, and you meet her pace, losing yourself entirely. Gripping onto her shoulder for support you lean back, your pelvis moving in rhythm. Right in the open, the lake to your back, on a jogging path, free for anyone to see. Your breath fogs the air around you, the morning light peeking from between buildings just to light your clouds in orange and yellow. Finally, she’s always wanted you to breathe fire. If it wasn’t for the winter air Rebel would have stripped you of your clothes.
You finish, trying to contain your moan even as it bubbles out of you in a wrecked sigh. Rebel drinks in every shiver, slowly pulling her hand from your pants. You desperately pull them up, making it just in time for two more joggers to cross beside you two. It doesn’t matter if they saw or not, Rebel’s entire focus is the mess you made between her fingers. “Mhm…we shall do this often, Lamb.”
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
If you’re looking for impressive sizes you won’t be finding them on Rebel. Her breasts are below average, and she prefers it that way. If they were larger then Rebel would have probably got a reduction as soon as it was possible.
She also doesn’t shave her body hair, be it on her legs, arms, or in more intimate areas.
Rebel’s hips and arms are deceptively unshapely, giving one the impression of a weak individual. But that’s only because Rebel likes to stay thin and unassuming, her godly physique keeps her plenty strong even without working out. So Rebel mostly does cardio mostly, giving her a tightly wound and lean body. Her skin is a dark rich brown, and through the entirety it’s nearly unblemished, save for three small beauty marks down her lower back.. and the multitude of light scars. The majority of which are across her arms, shoulders, and chest. But scars still line up her stomach, back, and thighs as well. They are by far the most striking part of her body, and she likes to show them off. Rebel has no tattoos and would only be willing to get one if either you or Jammer asked for matching ones.
Y = Yearning (how high is their *** drive?)
When away Rebel’s focus goes to other matters. She has hobbies and her own friends and work, as such she doesn’t often desire ***. But when you’re with her Rebel will find herself with an annoying and new need. A need that she’s felt before but not often.
The first days of your relationship will be the worst. Rebel will burn and writhe during the nights, and may even intrude in your home just to help satisfy her. Though, as you become more attuned with each other, and your presence becomes familiar in her life, then Rebel’s desires will simmer. Though it will never be as low as it was before you set her world on fire.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
If you’re a cuddler then Rebel will allow it, and stay awake until she no longer wants to be held. If you’re not a cuddler, or after Rebel breaks away if you are one, she will not stay awake long at all. Rebel will scoot to the other side of the bed and watch you sleep until she too succumbs. Sleep will come swiftly for her, but she won’t stay awake for long periods of time.
You may often find yourself waking up at 3am alone in bed, only to find Rebel working on some project in the moonlight. But this will be the same for most nights, regardless if you’ve laid with her or not. You may call her back to bed and Rebel will realize just how exhausted she is, or you can drift back to sleep, the sound of her work becoming a lullaby for you alone.
Please do you have android versiom to gilded shadows ????
This is my file
Ending where Sidestep hides in one of ROs' apartment and they weren't revealed as the villain. This is the missing Steel path, which the author didn't add earlier with the others.
The most recent content from Infamous and Sword of Rhivenia has already been shared here, but I’ve also updated Pawchive for both titles (click on the highlighted name).
Everything up to: Infamous: Seb/Vic Bar Scene + Between Takes #2 and SoR: Three POVs …is now there.
So if you’re looking for anything older than 15.07.2026, check Pawchive, and you will find it there.
Everything up to: Infamous: Seb/Vic Bar Scene + Between Takes #2 and SoR: Three POVs …is now there.
So if you’re looking for anything older than 15.07.2026, check Pawchive, and you will find it there.
There is no version of The Wedding at this time
As far as I know there is no Android version on Itchio, was included in the game.Please do you have android versiom to gilded shadows ????
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Connie made everything private temporarily, it's not the first time and it will be back in time. But if you have no patience here BSH and Favor 2 in one.
BSH Guide
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Does anyone have the demo for Glam Pursuit or Roaming Everdawn by Rinmaru? Looks like they're not public anymore
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Enjoy.
Andromeda Six:
- VN v10.2*
- Valentine's Day DLC v2.1
- Birthday DLC
*I know the latest ver is 10.6, but this is all I got rn
Does anyone know the in-game pass for The Mad Heir? It would be greatly appreciated by me if shared
Kemono has a few posts that might be what you’re looking for:
Glam Pursuit - Fully Voiced Extended Demo
Roaming Everdawn: Chapter 1
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Does anyone have the new fully released Alaris?