An Open Letter To Those Who Have Not Yet Shifted.

Intertidal Zone

♱⋅── rafayel x reader

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

♱⋅── word count: 6.7k

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

art credit to @/khouxy on instagram

You swear Rafayel is doing this on purpose. 

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

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

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

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

“How’s your drawing?” 

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

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

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

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

You hoped the together was implicit by now.

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

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

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

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

You’re leaning in despite yourself. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A laugh. Dry, humorless. 

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

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

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

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

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

Like he’s always fucking starving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Silly fishie, I’d never leave you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

The glass lays shattered against the floor. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck.” 

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

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

By the third time, you know something is wrong. 

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

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

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

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

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

It’s the cold that wakes you up. 

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

“Rafayel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet again, he stops you halfway.

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

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

“You’re not coming with me?” 

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

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

“Cutie…”

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

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

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

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

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

“What kind of promise?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You need him. 

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

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

And then the room is all too hot once again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Without him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit. This is Rafayel’s room. 

You must be trying to kill him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s not fair.

No god can deny the prayer of a worshipper.

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

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

Shit. He’s hard.

“Hey man, what’s wrong? You good?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's the last breath you take.

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

“Rafayel? What are you doing here?” 

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

Holy fuck, just a towel. Right.

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

Rafayel kisses you again. And again. And again. 

You can feel the cloth slipping.

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

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

So you bite him. 

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

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

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

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

“Or was that intentional?”

The look in his eyes is feral. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instantly, you have Rafayel on his back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then he’s kissing you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again.”

“I’m yours, yours Rafayel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that alone is enough.

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

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

You're cumming.

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

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

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

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

The one who's still kneeling before you. 

The one who you love. 

"Maximum voicemail length reached, recording sent."

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

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

♧How I Induced the void through SATS

And i know, I've wanted to and said that i'll induce the void through lucid dreaming, but here's the thing. Sats is actually so easy and effortless to do, lucid dreaming feels like a chore now (to me). And the thing is, I, ironically took break from tumblr and void because void state was starting to be viewed "too hard" (💀) to get into, literally induced it unintentionally through sats, it was THAT easy. Let's get right into it, I'm gonna start from the very basics, so you can know how sats works and how to actually utilise it :)

1. What exactly is SATS?

It's a deeply relaxed state, a state where you're groggy and drowsy. Like, yk before going to sleep, you hit this one point where you're half dreaming, half awake ish? like you can't (or don't want to) open your eyes, and you're just halfway through drifting off to sleep. That's exactly it! Your subconscious mind is HIGHLY suggestive to literally anything you tell it in this state. You access right before sleeping and right after waking up, and if you use it carefully you could really benefit from it :)

2.! How i Induced the void through SATS and how to relax :)

I actually did not realise relaxing was subjective to everyone until this experience. Let me tell you what happened.

It was a normal day. Like I mentioned above, I had taken a break from tumblr so I just scrolled through youtube. I was tired that day and wanted to sleep, but yk me and my phone addiction lol. So long story short, I saw some video about a beach, and then I just decided to go on pinterest, look at some comforting dark stormy beaches (💙) and some more peaceful shit and just imagined scenarios that RELAXED me. I like visualization and I'm good at it so imagining the scenarios was extremely peaceful. Basically I just looked at them pictures and just imagined sitting or laying there peaceful and relaxed, and other stuff.

Then i re-downloaded tumblr because I couldn't resist, and the first thing I saw was bunch of void success stories from a tumblr blog. They motivated me a lot and improved my mindset towards void, one of them being like "I was tired, so I affirmed, relaxed, felt a sucking feeling and entered", which to me was crazy because I was already tired and relaxed. So I laid down, relaxed, and almost immediately got into the SATS because of how relaxed and tired I was. Then in the sats I started to affirm for the void. And guess what? I felt a sucking feeling, something pulling me in, and then it was total black. I couldn't feel, hear or see a thing. I didn't affirm anything because of how peaceful it felt and forgot I had to do that (😭). When I woke up it motivated me a lot because I just realised how EASY it was and that I proved myself wrong.

Now, how is relaxing subjective? because to me, relaxing was like blindly following a guided meditation. Almost every blog i saw told me to meditate to relax (NO HATE TO ANYONE!!), and I thought meditation was just meditating to some guided meditation on youtube or the typical high frequency breathe in breathe out shit, which made me alien to the idea of meditating, because for me honestly following some youtube video on how to relax just didn't sit with me, because I wasn't even "relaxing". After the experience I realised what relaxing or meditating actually is. It's about discovering your own peace. It doesn't matter what it is.

(p.s. from the same concept I Induced the alpha state, lmk if you want a post on that. And no I did not count from 13 to 1 then 12 to 1, or even count at all).

and that was literally it. Imagining some peaceful scenarios, lying down, immediately getting inside sats and affirming, then inducing. I even entered 1-2 times after in two consecutive nights which boosted my confidence. Guys, it really is that easy.

(18+, fingering. reader has a pussy)

It had been a long week, and honestly, it had been even longer since you’ve masturbated.

It’s not that you dislike devildom or anything..it’s just a little frustrating not having any time to really take care of yourself.

So when the perfect night rolls around, with most brothers out of the house (lucifer meeting with diavolo, mammon doing god knows what, asmo clubbing, levi at a convention with beel tagging along, and satan at book club). You take full advantage.

And so, that’s how your night begins, you’re under your blanket with your knees up, underwear hanging off of one ankle, your hand makes its way between your legs and you sigh, finally.

And yeah maybe you’re kinda excited to be able to cum, too excited in fact. To the point where you almost (almost) miss the click of your door opening.

Dammit!

God Dammit. That’s it, you decide, the entire universe must be against you. Shouldn’t he be sleeping? Fuck! You drop your knees back down onto the bed. Belphegor makes his way over to the bed, he’s just about to get under your covers when you reach out a hand to stop him.

“Hold on, not tonight.” Thankfully he pauses, fist wrapped around the blanket.

“Why not?” His voice is soft, he’s almost pouting.

“It’s just…because, i’m busy right now.” You don’t have the heart to tell him what you were actually doing. Yet, after a moment of silence he’s already pressing forward again.

His expression shifts into something quizzical, like he’s trying to figure something out. You see him sniff the air around you and look back at you.

“You’re turned on. Were you masturbating?”

God fucking dammit. This is embarrassing. Is it a demon thing? You knew Asmodeus could sense lust, but can Belphie really smell your arousal? Well if he knows, he should be giving you space now. You hope.

“Uh, yeah actually,” That was still mortifying to admit, your body feels hot in more ways than one. “That was my plan for tonight, so maybe you should nap someplace else?” Even after all of this you still want to cum.

Instead of listening to you, Belphie fully slides under the covers. His eyes hold this intensity you’ve never seen before, and it’s all directed towards you.

“Let me help you, turn around.” He sounds more serious than you’ve ever heard. You don’t know what compels you to but you obey, turning so he’s pressed up against your back.

He wedges his head into the crook of your neck and inhales. “Let me take care of you.”

One of his hands traces along your side until it reaches the swell of your ass. He gives it a light squeeze before gripping your cheek and using it to push it to the side, giving him access to your pussy.

He uses his fingers to spread your pussy open, and fuck, you’re glad he can’t see how soaked you are..it’s just been so long.

As soon as that thought passes through you, feel his other hand reach under you. He drags his middle finger over your throbbing clit down to your sopping, wet hole before pulling back completely. You can’t help but moan, his touch is delicate yet deliberate. You want more.

You’re about to ask him why he stopped when his hand comes out from under the covers and into view. He holds it out in front of the two of you.

“Wow, you’re really wet, huh?” You can’t help but to be in awe as well. The digit is shining in slick juices, only made worse when he spreads it over to his pointer finger with his thumb.

“Belphie, keep going,” You don’t think you can take this teasing, not when he’s still holding you open. “please.”

“Okay.” The fingers disappear from view, a moment later you feel them on your clit rubbing in small circles. You move to grind on them but the hand on your ass holds you in place.

This continues for a while, you’re getting more turned on by the second. It’s good, but you need more.

“Put a finger inside.” You expect the ones on your clit to fulfill that task, but instead he stops holding you open to wriggle his other middle finger inside you. Fuck, it’s almost too much it’s-

“So good.”

He’s mouthing along your neck as he stretches you with his finger. He’s slow with it, but it feels like you’re on fire. Soon, you feel him slip out completely and trace over your hole with two fingers.

“Can I add another?” You nod, not sure if your voice would come out whole. Slowly, his fingers push in, and you gasp. He reaches so much deeper than you could on your own.

Slow thrust turn into slight stretching, which then turns into him curling his fingers. Hitting that gummy spot that makes your mind go blank.

“Do you think you could come, just like this?” His breath is hot against your neck, hell, everything is hot right now.

“Yeah, I could. Keep going, please.” And you mean it. Fuck, your orgasm is so close you can taste it. Like he can read your mind, his hands speed up. You’re moaning louder than before. And just like that something snaps.

You feel yourself clench around his fingers during your orgasm. Your sure belphie can feel it too, from the breathless way he says your name as his hands slow back down.

You’re still blinking hard from the aftershock when he finally pulls away. You turn your body to see him wipe his fingers on the corner of the blanket. Too out of it to say anything, you try to remember to wash it later.

He turns back to you and looks you in the eyes. Even if his face is flushed you can tell that he’s utterly exhausted. Your point is proven by how he cuddles up to you and completely deflates.

“Can we sleep now?” Any reply you would have giving would be useless. His eyes closed, and breathing already slowing down. You decide that you could save a real conversation for later.

For now you’ll just lie down with him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 🤍 ୨୧˚ 🥯

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝟏𝟓 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 + 𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐒

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Hello loves! This is my first ever post on Tumblr and I’m really excited to share with you guys what I have learnt about the void state! The title isn’t a clickbait, no worries at all. So stay tuned to read more and perhaps you might be able to enter the void state fast tonight 🤍

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓

I was watching this video and the guy explained how he was able to reach the void state within 10-15 minutes. He then mentioned a term called “micro-sleep” which he claims to have helped him to reach different altered states of the mind within a short period of time, and best of all, without doing conscious, deep-relaxation (ADHD friendly).

𝐒𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐑𝐎-𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏?

You might be wondering, what is micro-sleep? It refers to very short periods of sleep that can be measured in seconds, rather than minutes nor hours. It is usually achieved by sleep-deprivation, exhaustion and many more. It is uncontrollable and could be dangerous if it happens when you are in the middle of doing an important task such as driving.

How does micro-sleep feels like? Signs of micro-sleep include drowsiness, trouble focusing, heavy eyelids, blank staring and yawning.

how can we use this to our advantage?

Since the theme of my blog today is about the void state, I will be sharing with you how you are able to use micro-sleep to enter the void state very quickly.

During micro-sleep, you are literally dipping in and out of sleep, which would cause extreme relaxation in a short period of time. All you have to do is to dip and out of sleep for about 5 times before proceeding to affirm your void affirmations to enter the state consciously.

what if I do not know whether I have micro-sleep?

I have a solution for you! Remembering my past research, there is something called the “ramp timer” that is widely used by the Lucid dreaming and Astral projection community, in order to reach altered states of the mind quickly. All you have to do is create one by yourself by using this video or just search on Youtube. There are a lot of them, mostly made by Phase Evolution on Youtube, so do pick out which resonates to you most. Try to estimate the amount of time needed for you to fall asleep and pick a ramp-timer video out!

𝐒𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐖?

Here is a step-by-step guide on how you could enter the void state by using this technique:

1. Lay down and play your chosen ramp timer at a comfortable level. Set an intention to enter the void and fall asleep naturally

2. Once the timer wakes you up, try to fall back asleep. Do this for 5 times or more.

3. When you feel like it’s the right time for you once you are awoken by the ramp timer (only do this step once you have awaken for 5 times or more by the timer), imagine yourself doing a motion which consists of you going down. For example, going down the stairs or going down the elevator. You do not have to visualise but really feel it.

4. As you go down, start to repeat your void affirmations. “I am”, “I am pure consciousness”, “I am the void”, “I am not attached to any reality”. Continue to affirm and within a few minutes you should be in the void.

𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

One tip that has helped me immensely while entering the void is to sit on a reclined chair. It helps me not to fall completely asleep and I have more chances to enter the state in one night. Another small tip for the method I mentioned above, it is best if you are able to make your own ramp-timer since you are able to customise it. If not, you can try to edit out the available ramp-timers on Youtube to fit your needs :3

That is it for the post! I hope this would somehow help people out there who has been struggling to enter the void state no matter what they do. All the best and happy manifesting/shifting! 🤍

⋆·˚ ༘ * kira

I just found out that the easy way to manifest something is playing with your emotions

how to enter the void for an anxious bitch who's procastinating &being dumb as fuck cs shes scared she cant enter the void....

“HOW TO ENTER THE VOID FOR A SCARED, PROCRASTINATING BITCH!.” 🫐

oh, so you’re out here procrastinating, scared of the void like it’s some big, bad monster under your bed? B*TCH, BE SERIOUS. you’re the one making it difficult, not the void. you’re running from pure consciousness like a dumbass, when it’s literally just YOU with all the bullsh*t stripped away. get it together.

1) shut the fuck up and lay tf down. - oh, you’re too anxious to enter? baby, that’s cute. you know what else is anxiety-inducing? wasting your whole damn life making excuses instead of taking what’s yours.

- lay the fuck down. right now. not tomorrow. NOW.

- get comfy and don’t move. stop fidgeting like a crackhead.

- close your eyes and RELAX. the void isn’t gonna chase you down—you have to let yourself sink into it.

2) stop thinking like a DUMBASS. - oh, but you’re scared you can’t enter? Congrats, dumbass, now you really won’t. your assumptions create. if you keep telling yourself you “can’t” do it, then you’re manifesting failure instead of the void.

- start affirming NOW: “i enter the void easily.” say it until it sticks.

- whenever your brain spirals, REJECT THAT SH*T. if doubt creeps in, say: “i’m in the void now, NEXT.”

- fake it till you make it, bitch. if you assume you’re already in the void, guess what? you fucking are.

3) use your anxiety to your advantage. - you think your anxiety is stopping you? B*TCH, USE IT. anxiety makes your brain hyper-focus, right? so instead of obsessing over bullshit, obsess over NOTHING.

- focus on your breathing, a sound, or even a fake-ass scenario until everything else fades away.

- your brain wants to spiral? GOOD. spiral into the void. let yourself mentally detach from everything.

- BAM, YOU’RE IN. you just used your dumb little anxiety to get what you wanted. ICONIC.

4) stop waiting, stop thinking, let go. - you’re waiting to feel ready? B*TCH, YOU NEVER WILL. you just have to DO IT. the second you stop overthinking, the void takes over automatically.

- if you feel tingling, heaviness, or disconnection, DON’T PANIC. LET IT HAPPEN.

- if you feel your body going numb, GOOD. stay calm and fall through it.

- if you catch yourself doubting, too bad, b*tch, you’re already in. OWN IT.

FINAL WARNING: STOP BEING A SCARED BITCH AND ENTER THE VOID. -

no more “what if I can’t.” YOU CAN.

no more “I’ll try tomorrow.” B*TCH, TOMORROW IS FOR WEAK HOES.

no more procrastinating. you’re either doing it or staying a loser. pick one.

you wanna keep sitting here, scrolling, making excuses, or do you wanna be THAT B*TCH who entered the void and manifested her dream life? GET IN THE VOID OR GET LEFT BEHIND.

now go lay down, shut up, and enter. NO EXCUSES.

How I became a master shifter (+ why methods aren't working for you)

Hello! I’ve been seeing a lot of disinformation lately, and I’ve noticed that some people might need help, so I wanted to chime in. I can shift whenever I want, and I see a LOT of limiting beliefs—but I understand because I was once on the other side.

Disclaimer: This is all based on my personal experience with how I became a master shifter. You’ll want to read everything—it’s important.

I first shifted around March 2022. I would always use methods. I would affirm, tell myself I was detached from this reality, and so on. During my very first shift, I literally affirmed all night long (if this sounds familiar, it’s because I used to have another blog here, lol). You know, really complicated stuff. Then... things changed. I couldn’t shift anymore. I kept using the same methods, but they didn’t work!

That’s when I started questioning everything about shifting and consciousness. Why was it that I could be in another reality where things like magic exist, but then suddenly I couldn’t shift anymore? Why were the methods, like lucid dreaming or the void, seemingly more powerful than the act of switching realities itself? Why, when I shifted from my Desired Reality to my Current Reality, all I needed to do think of my CR to shift back—but it didn’t work the other way around?

None of it made sense! And I’m sure many others have asked themselves these same questions.

I came up with two theories:

This reality has something unique compared to the infinite other realities. To shift from here, you need something extra, like a method.

There’s something else at play, something unrelated to the realities themselves.

I dismissed the first option. There’s nothing inherently special about this reality. So why do we use methods here but not in our DRs?

Then, I thought back to how I used to shift... detaching from my body, affirming until I shifted. It all aligned with my subconscious beliefs. The method didn’t work because that’s how shifting works, but because it made sense to my subconscious. Of course I would shift if I did these things—because that’s what I believed shifting required.

Well... kind of. As I said, it made sense because it aligned with my beliefs. So when the method failed, I wasn’t letting myself shift.

Did you catch that? I didn’t let myself shift. Of course, it wasn’t the method. At what point do you actually shift? Is it when you affirm? Do you really think the universe is just waiting for you to say the right thing enough times before it switches you to your DR?

No. It’s you.

So, you have two choices:

Find a method that truly aligns with your beliefs, or

Change your subconscious beliefs.

Changing your beliefs might seem hard, but I’m going to explain why it’s not as difficult as it feels.

All your life, you’ve had certain beliefs, but those beliefs came from somewhere. You weren’t born thinking you need methods to shift—it’s something that developed over time. Which means it’s not set in stone. It can be changed.

I realized that every reality holds the same weight. There’s NOTHING you can do in this one—no intrusive thoughts or negative emotions—that can stop you. Why? Because those thoughts and emotions are products of this reality. Shifting is simply changing what you’re aware of. That’s literally it. Anything outside of that can’t stop you.

Yes, we’ve all seen those posts saying things like, "Oh, you’re not focused enough" or "You spend too much time on X, Y, Z" or even "You don’t go outside enough" (I legit read this on here—y'all are wildin’). Are you in your DR thinking "Oh, I thought about failing to shift, it means I won't :("? Of course you aren't! But nothing can stop you from shifting. Nothing can stop you from being aware that you are a master shifter.

So, how do you become aware of that?

I started affirming throughout the day. I would tell myself these things:

I’m pure consciousness. I create my reality, and everything around me is just what I choose to perceive.

I’m a master shifter. I don’t need methods. All I need to do is choose to shift, think of my DR, and it happens.

Nothing in the 3D can stop me from shifting, because I’m in the 4D and pure consciousness.

I told myself these things constantly, and I truly understood what I was affirming. What being pure consciousness and being a master shifter actually meant. I stopped using methods. I stopped acting like this reality was special compared to the ones I wanted to be in. And then... it happened.

I shifted. During the day. I simply thought of my DR, told myself, I want to shift, and there I was—in my DR. It happened because, as I said, my subconscious beliefs changed and then manifested in my reality. The same way they did when I believed I needed methods.

Naturally, I stopped using methods. I stopped trying to shift. I no longer thought, Okay, tonight I’m going to shift, and I'm going to use X method. Because that’s not how you think or act when you’re a master shifter. I let go—why would I bother using a method before sleeping when I could just stand up, think about my DR, and be there? Why would I bother doing a method before falling asleep when I knew I'm a master shifter?

I allowed myself to shift. It was me! When people ask, What method did you use? What did you do to shift?—do you really, truly believe it’s the method that makes you shift? Of course you do, because you live in a reality that seems logical, and you apply that logic to shifting. But shifting isn’t logical! It just happens! I have no idea why—it’s literally just magic to me—but that’s how it works.

So, you need to understand: You make it happen. That’s a good thing, right? It means you don’t need methods, and you don’t need to keep searching for “the key.”

Anyway, I hope this helps someone. (Also yes, before you tell me, I know this is basically Law Of Assumption. But I wanted to explain it in more of shifting terms)

(Also if someone wants to post this to another social you have my permission- especially reddit since I was active in that community but I deleted my acc lol)

Edit: Hey guys there are some additional notes in the comments that might be useful!

You and Caleb had been drinking a bit when he gets the idea of taking some aphrodisiac chocolate.. “Here you go pip-squeak..” he smirks as he breaks off a piece for you, “wanna see who will last longer.?”

And that’s how you two got here.. you on top of him grinding as his length sits- twitching in your warms walls. “Nngh.. baby.. you gotta stop- you’re gonna kill me here.. a-ah!” he whines as you start to move your hips up and down. You plant your hands on caleb’s slick chest and start bouncing your hips faster- “god- pip-squeak.. you gotta.. slo~ slow down..” he whines as his hips buck up to heat yours- “who lasted longer Cay?” you bounce roughly- still feeling the need in your core for his fat cock. “if you didn’t”- groan.. “didn’t start riding me.. you would’ve lost baby..” he moans and his eyes roll back as his hands grip your hips tightly. “baby.. i- i don’t think- nnngh!” Caleb’s hips snap up into you as his warm seed fills you up once more.. and you feel the string snap and liquid gushing out- “oh- gods caleb!” you moan out as he starts to slow and his cock is softening in your cunt. “heh.. look at the mess you made..” he mutters. You pant as you crack your eyes open and see the clear liquid soaking caleb’s chest- “i’m.. sorry..” you mutter and lift your hips off his soft dick. He shakes his head and sits up- grabbing the towel next to the bed and clean you two off. “don’t be sorry.. now i know.. to be careful when you are needy..” he kisses you softly.

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© ilovemyladboyz. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work with out my permission.

Neville Goddard referred to the void as the I am state. This is how I stopped overcomplicating it.

People say that the void is not a meditative state and they’re right BUT, you’re supposed to meditate to get there. Of course you can set an intention but most people aren’t as confident within themselves to trust that their subconscious will follow through.

So the way Neville does it:

Find a comfortable position

Breathe (something like 4-7-8 or 3-3-3-3)

Keep repeating “I am” in your head. Relax your body and try to stay still.

For the people who have issues staying still, I had the same problem as you. But I actually looked into L Theanine which helps with anxiety, ADHD, and relaxes your muscles. It also helps to put you in an alpha state by making your brainwaves lower itself to an alpha frequency so you’re not drowsy but completely relaxed. I’ve been taking it for a couple days and I feel that it’s so much easier to stay still. Trust me, it does work! However, I also fall asleep very quickly which is why I suggest taking a nap during the day so you’re not sleep deprived and then trying to stay up. I take it a step further by taking a nap in the afternoon, drinking coffee and then taking L theanine in the evening so I don’t fall asleep quickly.

ALSO, I finally know what it’s like to live in the end. My wifi was down and I couldn’t connect it, I started to affirm that my wifi is working but it didn’t work immediately. Then I realized I had this 5G thing I could connect to and then I had wifi again. Now the feeling when I didn’t have it was frustration and the feeling when I did have it was carelessness, relaxed, and stress-free.

I applied the same to the void and I actually feel so much better about the void as a whole. I do believe in energies, universe etc so I believe that once I had calmed down, the universe sent a hint that I’m over complicating the void and I’m not understanding what it actually is. Now that I know, I don’t care about circumstance. So that’s all there is!

@b4ddprincess

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PUT IT IN SIMPLER TERMS, HOW TO DRILL IT INTO YOUR HEAD, YOU NEED TO READ TO UNDERSTAND DON'T SAY IT DOESN'T WORK THEN YOUR DOING THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT I'M ABOUT TO SAY

DO NOT FOCUS ON THE 3D, THAT IS IT, NOTHING MORE

Now I understand you might be confused on what is meant by 3d

3d is the material world, the world you are experiencing right now with all 5 senses, now what are your five senses?

1. Touch (Your body)

2. Sight (When you see things with your psychical eyes)

3. Hearing (What you use to hear the tv, music and any noise)

4. Smell (What you use to smell food, clothes and perfume)

5. Taste (What you use to taste your food and drinks)

OTHER SENSES (They're more than what you'd except)

6. Time (Yes time is part of your senses I know shocking but Time is part of the material world, time isn't apart of you when your pure consciousness)

WHAT YOU NEED TO DO

Relax, take a breath and just be present DO NOT think about the 3d, that's it, get lost in thought, sing a song in your head, THAT IS IT

THINGS THAT CAN HELP

Just to be present, this can help to prevent yourself from thinking of the 3d, which I know sounds weird but when you get into the I am state/ Pure consciousness/ Void state/ Quantum field/ Unified field (Just a lot of names that mean the same thing) this will help you from kicking yourself out because you won't start thinking about who, when, where, what, those or material things, instead you focus on your inner world when you are present

SOME QUOTES I'D LIKE TO SHARE FROM SCIENTISTS THAT STUDY THE QUANTUM FIELD / VOID STATE AND STUDIED THE BRAIN DURING THIS TIME

"To give you some idea of what this field is like, imagine taking away all the people and bodies on Earth, all the animals and plants and physical objects all the people, structures both natural and man-made all the continents, the ocean and even the earth itself. Imagine you could then take away all the planets and moons and stars in our solar system, including our sun. And then imagine taking away all the other solar systems in our galaxy, and then all the galaxies in the universe. There's no air, and there isn't even any light that you can see with your eyes. There's just absolute blackness, the void, the zero-point field. It's important to remember this because when you as a consciousness in the present moment unfold into the quantum field, you will be in an infinite black space-void of anything physical. Now imagine that not only do you not see anything here, but because you enter into this state of awarness without a physical body, you also have no sight with which to see-nor do you have the capacity to hear, feel, smell, or taste. You have no senses here at all. The only way you can exist in the quantum is as an awareness. Or better said, the only way you can experience this realm is with your awareness-not your senses. And since consciousness is awareness, and awareness is paying attention and noticing, once you are beyond the world of the senses, when you pay attention to the energy of the quantum field, your consciousness is connecting to greater levels of frequency and information. Yet as strange as this may sound, the quantum field is not empty. It's an infinite field filled with frequency or energy. And all frequency carries information. So think of the quantum field as being filled with infinite amounts of energy vibrating beyond the physical world of matter and beyond our senses-invisible waves of energy available for us to use in creation. What exactly can we create with all this energy swimming In an infinite sea of potentials? That's up to us because, in short, the quantum field is the state in which all possibilities exist. And as I just said, awareness or as a consciousness: specifically an awareness that is paying when we find ourselves in the quantums universe, we exist simply as an attention to or observing a field of infinite possibilities existing within an even greater consciousness and a greater level of energy."

"So if you find yourself thinking about knowns in your life, you are back in the three-dimensional reality of space and time."

"to no longer place your attention on anything or anyone material in this three-dimensional reality, like your body, the people in your life, the things you own, the places you go, and time itself. If you do that properly, you are nothing but awareness. That's how you get there."

JUST TO LET YOU KNOW

You're not leaving your body, just like how you are aware right now, awake right now, like how you go to sleep, these are all states of consciousness. IT'S JUST YOU You're not going to outer space, just a different state of consciousness, which is really easy to achieve so MY GOD STOP OVERCOMPLICATING IT