Archive of Our Own

At first, it was peaceful. The Vessel felt like he was floating, the outside world distant and quiet, his mind calm and empty.

He could not smell or see or hear where he was, reduced to nothing but sensation and the cloying, metallic taste in his mouth.

He absently remembered the emotions he’d felt before being where he was - fear, pain, anger - but, when he tried to put faces or names to anything specific, he struggled to do so. Eventually, he'd give up, as doing so only made him tired, his mind not capable of absorbing the complexities of a life beyond where he was. It didn’t feel like it mattered very much, anyways.

He curled in on himself, like an unborn fetus, floating in velvety abyss, and his memories were a distant hum in the back of his mind.

This was His promise. To become more than he once was. Nothing could hurt him here. Not anymore.

...

Did... did he always have six limbs? No, that can't be right....

But his eyes shot open, and the illusion shattered. Even though it was too dark to actually see anything, his sense of depth perception immediately sent him reeling, tremors of vertigo shooting through his head.

Too many eyes. He had too many eyes, he could feel them on his face. He can't-

The space he occupied, which had stsrted off pleasant and all-consuming, freeing him from the pain of choice and decision, suddenly became suffocatingly warm and constricting as he kicked outwards. How long had he been here?

His spine jolted, and he seized as he felt limbs he should not feel tense at the  sudden onslaught of sensation. It wasn't pain exactly, that would be too specific. It was-

-touch sensation nerves fibers connecting with something that is not me I'm trapped I'm lost let me out let me out LET ME OUT-

His movements became more frantic, the sensory overload throwing him headfirst into fight-or-flight.

The extra body parts he now had trickled to life little by little, a sensation like pins and needles in his new extremities. Some emerged from his back. He couldn't see anything, but he could certainly feel everything. He didn't want to be here anymore.

His thrashing was only halted momentarily by panic before animal rage consumed his movements, kicking and biting and clawing and striking at the walls that surrounded him. His body ached and his joints screamed. He did not care. Escape was the only option.

Finally, a breach. A small crack formed, a stream of blinding light peaking through. The glare was bright and painful, the breeze striking and cold against his skin. But he had to keep going.

He aggravated it like a wound, digging into the cut and pulling it apart with as many hands as he had - he had too many why did he have so many-

The gash held stubbornly, but he was more stubborn than it could ever hope to be.

Eventually, it peeled, half of it unevenly crumbling down, opening even wider. Vessel shoved himself through, the squeeze suffocatingly tight. There were voices. His ears rung at the presence of noise where there had once been deprivation.

“Should we help him? It looks like he needs it,” said one, his tone rough and worried.

“No,” said a second voice, “He needs to do this on his own. He needs to build his own strength.”

“He looks so… different,” said another.

“Of course he does,” The second voice replied knowingly, with a calm certainty that Vessel found both relieving and concerning, “He was chosen, after all. He’s not going to look like us. He’s special.”

“I see…” the third voice said, tone unsure yet soft like silk.

Vessel blinked as he crawled into the light, his six eyes bleary and the corners of his sight blotted with red. His field of vision was far too wide, giving him a migraine. His chest burned, until he realized he was holding his breath. He released it with a wavering gasp, gulping down fresh air. It burned in his lungs, like he was inhaling fire-cold knives.

Finally, the tear broke free and he fell, collapsing into soft, prickly grass. It felt like needles against his all-too-sensitive flesh. He raised his arms, only to accidentally smack himself with his new “extra” ones, his brain unable to recognize which ones to send signals to. He feels the extra joints on his back tense and flex. He had far more limbs and eyes and extremities than his brain could keep up with.

He cradled himself on the ground, in a fetal position with his forehead pressed into the grass. His eyes were shut closed, but a sickening kaleidoscope of colors bursted behind his eyelids, only slightly muffled by darkness.

His senses were too sharp, his vision too intense, his flesh too sensitive, his joints too smooth. Everything, too much. Too much too much-

A firm hand on his shoulder jolted him from his agony, like a shock of electricity. He instinctively growled and rolled his back to shove it off.

“Easy now,” said the knowing voice- presumably not of the one that just grabbed him, “He’s overwhelmed. The transformation, or at least the result of it, is…taxing. Don't be too rough.”

“Sorry,” said the firm voice. Vessel growled, the sound insect-like and vile, a shiver of irritation running through him now that he could comprehend his surroundings a little bit more. That irritation was immediately followed by a sob of remorse as he sensed the one who’d grabbed him flinch away. Vessel did not want to frighten anyone who was only trying to be kind.

“Shh, it’s okay,” the gentle voice said, and Vessel felt soft hands hesitatingly cradle his face. He whined and leaned into the touch, the only sensation that wasn’t completely intolerable. “You’re alright. This pain is temporary, right?”

“It is,” the knowing voice assured, steady and calm, as if he'd seen this many times. “Your transformation is difficult and painful, but now that you’ve emerged, we're close to the end of it. You remember Sleep’s plans, don’t you?”

Sleep.

How could he forget?

Flashes of a previous existence. Pain. Loneliness. Regret. Self-imposed isolation. Anger. Love.

“I can stop all of your pain. If you become my Vessel.”

He groaned, clutching his head in panic. Make it stop make it stop make it stop-

More hands reached forward. two firm ones on his back, grounding him in the moment. Two steady ones were planted on his shoulders, reassuring and unwavering. The gentle hands stayed in place, the voice they belonged to cooing sweet nothings in his ear.

“Forget it all,” the knowing voice insisted, speaking over the gentle words, “He doesn’t want you to remember how much it hurt. That’s why you can’t remember everything, just bits and pieces, the parts that linger. You don’t have to burden yourself with those irrelevant thoughts anymore. You are not that person. Let go.”

Vessel breathed. He felt the others breathe with him, like one organism. He tried to follow their tempo, to slow his own breathing down.

Relaxing again took an eternity, but eventually, his body stopped screaming at the pain of existence. His eyes creaked open.

Light flooded his eyes unfathomable brightness a shadow eclipsing it from view too much too much-

He closed them again. The gentle hands stroked his ears and his cheeks with their thumbs. He burrowed his head into their lap. Soft fabric pooled around his face.

“It’s alright, just take your time.” The gentle voice whispered in his ear, leaning forward and down. "No matter how long you need, we'll be right here by your side."

“Yeah, we're not going anywhere,” the firm voice said, a mellow chuckle following the words. Vessel breathed a sigh at the lovely sound. "This is harder than I thought it’d be. But I guess Sleep warned us that this wouldn't be easy, right?"

“Sleep sent us to you,” the knowing voice said, fingers tightening and loosening around his shoulders. “To guide you to your next task. He’s letting you rest, to recover from your apotheosis, but soon enough, he’ll give you the plans you need to lead us forward. For now, just let us do the hard part, okay?”

Vessel nodded to no one in particular. Hearing their banter, feeling their hands holding him steadily like a wayward sail... all of it was comforting. Grounding. He didn't feel like he was falling apart at the seams anymore, torn apart by the memories of a man long since dead. Vessel was not a man anymore, he knows that now.

After a while, he tried opening his eyes again. This time was different; the light wasn’t as intense, not as painful as before. He looked down at himself to see four charcoal hands, and to his sides to see large wings covered in pale downy feathers. Most alarmingly, he realized he was startingly naked, his body exposed to the open air.

He caught glimpses of three cloaked figures adorned in masks, all kneeling on the ground with him - one in front of him cradling his face, and two to each of his sides - before he instinctively closed his eyes again, the information they absorbed too much for his mind to take in right now. Still, it was a start.

“There you go,” The gentle voice whispered pleasantly, and Vessel nuzzled closer to him, the warmth welcome in the biting cold. Sweet laughter like music filled his ears as he did. “Oh! Hold on!”

Vessel held him close, refusing to let go. Voices behind him laughed.

"I think the Vessel's taken a liking to you," The knowing voice said through chuckles. "You should be honored."

"I am..." The gentle voice raised hands to the back of Vessel's neck, cradling it. Vessel melted into the touch. After so much pain and sensory overwhelm, the pleasant, lighthanded touches were so very welcome.

His many eyes opened slowly, and they looked up into the hollow black ones of an elegant, skull-shaped mask. His field of vision was far higher than he was used to, no longer having to tilt his head back to look up at the sky. The grass was high and flush, with distant flowers and trees, coral and rouge, dotting the horizon. Close by, there sat a large chest, small enough to carry in someone’s arms but large enough to hold multiple small items.

He reluctantly pulled away from the gentle one's arms - but only a little - as he looked around. They were all sitting under a massive cherry blossom tree, pink flowers blooming from its branches. Nestled along the side was something dark, and iridescent and fleshy, coiled in on itself like a snake's shed skin.

The knowing one chuckled. "That was your chrysalis. Sleep told us it was neccesary to make your changes more... tolerable. If he hadn't made you one, the transformation would have been quicker, but it could have caused you a lot of harm."

Vessel slowly nodded. Little by little, he acclimated to the current moment second by second, old memories fading and peeling away, like dry, brittle wallpaper. He swallowed.

Swallowed. A sudden ache in his torso shot through like a bullet. Hungry. He was so hungry.

But for what?

He moved back into the gentle one's arms suddenly enough to startle him. He was cradled again by hands that felt more hesitant than before. Gentle eyes looked down into his own. "Are you alright?"

The hunger wasn't dying. If anything, being this close to another, to warm, vulnerable flesh, only made it stronger. It was getting harder to think, as if it wasn't hard enough already given the circumstances. The other's neck was so close, his pulse steady and suddenly loud to Vessel's ears. His heartbeat hammering behind his rib cage, loud enough for Vessel to hear. It raced, a half second offbeat from Vessel’s own.

No. This wasn't mere hunger. This was want. A want so strong that it eclipsed reason, mercy, understanding. The gentle strokes of fingers in his hair were no longer enough. He wanted more. No, he needed more.

His body was so warm, and Vessel was so starved, the delicate pulse of his flesh inviting his teeth and tongue. He opened his jaws, white teeth bared and ready to bite down. He heard a frightened inhale, but there was no attempt from the one in his arms to stop him.

Good. Obedient.

"This was what was gifted to you."

But then-

"Hey, don't!" The firm one suddenly grabbed his arms and yanked him backwards, tearing the gentle one away. The sudden shift in gravity and his hard landing onto the ground behind him sent Vessel reeling. He heard them as they spoke.

"He was trying to take a bite out of you!" The firm one said, the protectiveness in his voice making Vessel temporarily falter with guilt - he's protecting him from me I'm frightening them I need to stop - before the hunger roared back into focus, snuffing out remorse like a lid to a candle.

"I - yeah, he was. But... that's our job, right? To care for him on Sleep's behalf? If he wanted to... bite me, I should let him." That's right. He knew his place. His purpose.

"Well, if we have a choice, I'm not letting you be the one to do it." Fool. There was no choice. There was only will. That of Sleep's and that of the Vessel's, and right now the distinction between us is blurred to nonexistence.

He lifted himself up to stand, all four hands clenching and unclenching instinctively. Hunger and wrath plagued his thoughts simultaneously, a cocktail that betrayed the ego of a God's chosen vessel. He locked onto the disruptor. Even though they stood eye to eye, the other froze in what was clear terror. Despite this, he still hid the gentle one behind himself, acting like a shield.

How dare he?!

He growled, lurking closer. Fine. If he could not devour the other one, he'd go for this one all the same.

He lunged, his wings giving him a push forward. The other dodged, still keeping the gentle one behind his back. Vessel groaned in frustration.

"I don't care what you are, I already said that I'm not letting you hurt him," The firm one spoke again, pissing Vessel off even more. He lunged again, swiping out with hands, only to be dodged. The other was too quick, and he was too weak still from his emergence. He recieved a kick in the jaw for his effort. "Get back!"

"Enough!"

All looked to the knowing one, who held his arms open. Looking now, he was much shorter than the other two. Presumably, easier to overpower. "If you need to eat, come here. I'll give you what you need."

Vessel heard the other protest, but it fell on deaf ears as he lunged forward, accepting the invitation. He knocked the knowing one to the ground.

Teeth met flesh, biting through and drawing blood. And after blood was drawn, tendons and muscle were bitten and torn and swallowed. The knowing one now had the meat of his neck exposed for the world to see.

Vessel grinned drunkenly. Exposed for him to see, to devour. He feasted, ripping away pieces of warmth and viscera.

Hunger hunger hunger blood flesh warm sweet all mine mine mine-

If the others protested with words, none of them reached him. He absently felt two pairs of hands grab at his arms to pull him away from his meal, but to no avail. The knowing one gripped his shoulders, but made no effort to push him away. If anything, Vessel's neck was held, as if to encourage him closer. Time blurred as he devoured, that feeling of want coursing through him and guiding his maw. Underneath were short bursts of regret, an understanding of this is wrong, but with no recourse for regaining control. Not until the god within his stomach was sated.

And eventually it was. The hunger - the want- slowly trickled away, his mouth wet with blood and his stomach full. He sat up, panting, and, for the first time with a clearer mind, looked down at the carnage.

He was... mauled. Shredded, more like. Despite the utter violent mess that was his chest, neck, and lower face, with bone and tendons exposed, his ragged breathing could still be heard. Piercing blue eyes, visible from the mask that had been dislodged in the attack, stared up at Vessel. They displayed only one emotion.

Love.

Vessel gasped, struggled to breath, before his voice hitched in a horrified sob. He clutched his head with multiple bloody hands, his wings fluttering mindlessly. He looked back at the other two, silently pleading for something, anything, to reassure him that this wasn't completely unfixable. Their expressions were unreadable by the masks, but the taller one still held the other protectively, as if afraid he would go for them next.

Vessel curled forward and planted his face into the grass, and sobbed fully now, staining the grass red and gold, his tears ichoric and glossy.

Suddenly, firm hands lifted his face. He looked up to meet dark eyes, and to the side to see the other carrying a... bowl.

In the bowl was clear liquid, it surface iridescent. Vessel's breathing slowed to momentary confusion. The gentle one's head tilted. "Drink it. It'll make the transformation complete, or so I've heard. That's what the Second told us."

The Second? Was that the one who lay dead on the ground? Vessel was about to question this before he heard cracking and gutteral shifting behind him. He winced, tremors wracking his body as he tried not to vomit-

"That.... could have gone... better..." A familiar voice spoke. Vessel turned around to see the one he'd attacked, sitting up. While still horribly injured, his open wounds were slowly stitching themselves back together as if by invisible thread.

"Are you okay?" The firm one asked.

"No. But I'll survive. Sleep won't let his Vessels die that easily. Blood was required for this to work, anyway. This was always meant to happen."

The firm one's voice raised. "And you didn't tell us before we got here, because...?!"

"You would have hesitated. Ruminating on things makes you get cold feet." He stood up now, his ruined flesh mending, little by little, not even leaving scar tissue behind. "But you still got cold feet, regardless, so I was proven wrong. That was my mistake."

"I'm sorry," The gentle one said, glancing between both Vessel and the knowing one, "To you all. I should have just-"

"No, I would have always preferred it to be me. It's an honor, really, to be the Vessel's first blood shed," The knowing one closed the distance, petting a shocked Vessel's head. "Now, drink."

Hesitation still gripped Vessel as he looked around at them all. How could they still be so kind, even after what he just did?

The knowing one leaned down, running deft fingers down his own chest, through the blood that dripped down his torso. “Don’t hesitate. Drink. I promise, the pain will be over soon. For all of us.”

As much as Vessel hated to say it, the blood in his throat was hot and cloying. He was thirsty. He licked the last remaining remnants of blood off of his hands like an animal. Then, he took the bowl and tilted it to drink.

It was… refreshing. No, beyond refreshing, it was enlightening, the fire in his throat assuaging immediately. The ache in his bones, the burning in his lungs, the metallic tang in his throat all receded. The bowl emptied too soon, and Vessel gasped as he placed it in his lap, having forgotten his need to breathe. He crouched over, a wave of sudden nausea building up.

All three of his companions stood up, the tallest pulling the gentle one back. “He’s changing...”

His extra limbs, his arms and wings, which had felt confused and disoriented and mentally detached from the rest of his body, suddenly felt… familiar, as if he’d always been this way and had simply forgotten. His wings shed, displaying mature black feathers that flapped furiously behind him, stretching with newfound vigor. His eyes shot open, and his mind opened alongside it, absorbing new colors with phosphorescent vision.

Before, it felt like this world was too much to witness, but now his mind, like his throat with the water, drank it all in and still craved more.

He heard a voice.

“My Vessel. Your mind has returned to me.”

Vessel spoke for the first time since he could remember. “Sleep.”

“I had to abandon you to let you change. Now you have reached me again on your own, with the aid of your consorts.”

Vessel spoke aloud again, his voice hesitant. “Consorts?”

“Who’s he talking to?” The firm voice asked. The others seemed puzzled, seeing Vessel respond to words they could not hear.

“Yes, your consorts. Your Second, the one to guide you, to lead when you cannot, to carry you where you cannot go alone. Your Third, the one to confront you, to offer meaning to struggle. Your Fourth, the one to ground you, to offer kindness where words fail. They are yours. They are ours.”

“He’s talking to Sleep,” The knowing one, whom Vessel now knew was his Second, answered. “It worked. We did it.”

“They belong to you. Now is the time to show them what that means.”

Vessel stood again, his legs shaky but his stance firm. He felt much clearer, more refined, like a diamond with the edges smoothed down. He focused his gaze on his Third and his Fourth, the former clutching the other close to his heart. Looking at himself in all of his terrifying glory, he understood the protectiveness too well. But that didn't change what he now knew.

He was Chosen.

He reached out a hand, pointing to the ground. "Kneel for me."

The words were said with a sense of authority that even Vessel was surprised by. It didn't sound like a request, or even a command, but simply a statement about the world itself, as if kneeling was as inevitable as rainfall. As if their wills would bend like grass under his feet.

Both hesitated, but the Fourth gave in sooner, trying to tug his friend to the ground with him as gently as he'd cradled Vessel's face earlier. The Third hesitated before kneeling himself, making unbreakable eye contact with Vessel and refusing to release the Fourth's hand from his own even as they kneeled side by side.

Vessel would not be so cruel as to separate them, briefly acknowledging that, within himself, he held the power to do so if he wanted to. No, he knew better than to do that. He'd hurt and frightened them enough. For now.

His Third was a wolf on a leash, unhappy with the loss of agency. Vessel almost felt a little bad. Almost.

"Your words carry so much sway, Vessel," The Second's voice said from behind him. He turned to see him kneeling as well, even though Vessel hadn't really meant for the order to reach him. His flesh was mostly healed. "What will you have from us?"

"I..." He didn't know. He didn't know. He turned inward, listening for Sleep to guide his hand.

"Our Third's defiant spirit will never yield, but you must shape it. Make him submit to you, and the rest will fall into place."

"How?" Vessel asked aloud. The Second didn't speak, seeming to understand immediately that Vessel was not addressing him.

"Cleanse them with pleasure. Show them that they are yours. You know what to do."

Vessel felt a sudden heat across his face, and another further down in his lower stomach. No, lower than that. A rush of excitement, of want and need.

He stalked forward. The Third's grip on the Fourth tightened, but he made no attempt to back away. It was a challenge. Sleep was right; this one was pure confrontation, a rock splitting a stream. Both looked up at him in wary awe.

The Third spoke first. "If you plan to eat anyone else, let it be me."

The Fourth looked at him, forgetting Vessel for a brief moment. "No, don't say that! Please, it was supposed to be me from the start."

Vessel almost cooed as he crouched in front of them both, reaching out a hand to caress the Fourth's chin. "I won't be hurting anyone else. Not as long as I remain in control of my actions."

He thought to only a short period back, when his mind was so consumed by hunger that violence seemed so natural, so correct, and he shivered. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I was not... in my right mind. Starvation made me irrational. But it won't happen again. I won't let myself hurt you anymore, so long as I can help it. None of you."

The Third visibly relaxed. It seemed that was all he wanted to truly hear. Vessel spoke again, his hand pulling away from his Fourth to his Third's face, trailing down to gently squeeze at his neck. "But there is a different kind of hunger that I have now. I need you to fulfill it."

And then he pulled him in for a rough kiss, Vessel's bare lips pressing against gold tulle. The Third gasped through his nose, hesitant, before returning it with the same intensity.

The kiss was furious, tongue and teeth clashing, the Third pushing deeper into it, long fingers scraping at his bare shoulders and soft growls as the other clawed his back. When Vessel tried to pull away, the other met him in the middle, and vice versa. It was a fight, yet one born of desire, not hostility. His Third was not letting himself be claimed, but instead was claiming him right back, trying to keep the power between them as mutual as possible.

He’d have to fix that.

Finally, reluctantly, the Third pulled away, out of breath and whining cuttingly against Vessel's shoulder, groaning as if he'd lost a fight. Vessel struggled himself, kissing along his bare neck before straddling his hips and pushing him onto his back. They were both hard, with the Third's erection visible through his pants, and Vessel joined their hips to slide them together.

The Third made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan. "If you want something from me, take it. I won't give anything without a fight."

That was the plan.

Vessel absently looked to the side, and the Fourth, momentarily forgotten by both of them, watched with rapt fascination. His hand was palming his groin through his pants, and Vessel noticed there was no visible erection. Interesting.

The Fourth, suddenly self-concious, stopped, almost pulling his hand back. Vessel caught his wrist, slowly bringing it back down to his pants. "No, you are a witness. Enjoy yourself."

He paused, then nodded, furiously rubbing at himself and making desperate little noises. Vessel felt tension against his own groin and looked down to see the Third grinding back, almost to the same rhythm. Vessel ground back, sighing in gentle pleasure, and the Third dragged a hand across his abdomen, caressing his stomach and the lower abdominal muscles just above his cock, as if stroking his body in reverence. He grinned up at him, the tulle of his mask revealing a wry smile. "Fuck, you're... divine. Show me what you can do."

Vessel grinned back, for different reasons. That sounded too much like a challenge.

The Fourth and the Third used their free hands to wrap them around each other's fingers, nuzzling close as they looked up at Vessel. He cooed at them both, registering something familiar, something finally unclouded by previous unknown pain and distorted memories.

Love.

Is that what this was? There was a tantalizing thrill in the idea that his consorts loved each other as much as they loved him. Their loyalty a closed circuit. He grinned wider.

But the grin fell as Vessel felt nails drag across his belly, the Third's hand going from adulatory to hostile in seconds. "Fuck, are you going to hurry up, or do I have to entertain myself?"

Vessel leaned closer. He almost forgot why they were doing this. "This isn't about entertainment. This is about letting you fall into place. Be good for me."

The Third tilted his head as he started pulling down his pants and undergarments. A dare. "And what if I'm not?"

Vessel smiled, crawling over him, both of their cocks now free and rubbing against each other. "You will."

A hand pressed to the back of his head. He turned to see the Second standing close to him, his pants already off and his other hand furiously jerking himself off. He watched them all with steady attention.

His free hand gravitated from Vessel's hair to his face, using a finger to tilt his chin to look up. "Our Third loves it when we use his ass."

Vessel felt lust roar to life within him at the idea, and the Third bucked him off his hips before crawling onto all fours. He lifted his cloak and raised his bare ass, like a dog in heat. His cock dripped, beads of precum landing in the grass below him. "He's right, I do."

Vessel leaned in to kiss his tailbone and caress his thin hips reverently. Ducking under a bit, Vessel looked at his balls, hanging heavily below his cock, and shoved his face into them, licking a stripe from them past his taint and up to his asshole. Sweaty, yet sweet like sugar. His newfound senses gave him a sudden appreciation for the gentle odors of these three, and he couldn't wait to taste the other two in the same way, to get lost in a tangle of warm bodies.

One day. Not right now.

Vessel devoured him, playing with his balls as he languidly licked away at his most vulnerable parts, kissing and sucking wherever his lips managed to touch, and stroking with his hands where he didn’t. The Third's moans pitched up an octave as Vessel massaged his balls, his earlier wariness and hostility having melted away. "Fuck, yes! Harder, please..."

"No," The Second scolded, "You don't make demands of our Vessel. This is his will, remember? Don't speak unless spoken to."

The Third held his tongue, muffling his moans. The Fourth leaned into him, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. Vessel groaned at the sight, and could taste the Third's asshole clench against his tongue at the sensation. His Second circled around and crouched next to his Third's face, his cock directly level with his mouth. Still, he looked to Vessel. "Vessel. Would you like me to silence him for you?"

Vessel hummed in thought. He was torn between hearing his Third's lovely sounds, or seeing his Second's pleasure. He decided he owed the latter some grace after the ordeal he'd put him through. "I would."

“You heard him,” the Second said, tapping the tip of his cock against the tulle of the Third’s mask, lifting it up enough to reveal the bottom half of his face… namely, his lips. “Open wide.”

The Third hesitated yet again, before obedience overwhelmed pride. Vessel heard his hum become muffled as the Second fed his dick into his throat, bottoming out with a pleased sigh. “Good. I love it when you’re quiet.”

The Third gave an offended hum, his mouth too full to make any retort, but its pitch broke as Vessel’s intense licking breached his ass, along with a single, long finger.

To Vessel’s surprise, his hole was surprisingly pliant and flexible, and the Third arched his back with a practiced ease. “Do the three of you do this often? Play with each other?”

The Fourth’s demeanor turned bashful as he looked to the side, still aggressively rubbing himself. Vessel frowned a bit, finding an unfamiliar streak of anger course through him at the other’s sense of shame. His Fourth should not be afraid to feel pleasure in front of him.

He has already denied me flesh and blood. He does not get to deny me his pleasure. Like everything else he is, it belongs to me.

Before Vessel could demand a reply from his Fourth, his Second answered for him in full confidence. “Of course. Don’t worry, we don’t include anyone else. We are yours, after all.”

Mine.

Now he knew where the source of the anger was. The entitlement, the possessiveness that creeped through Vessel felt natural, to his own surprise. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome though. His expression softened as he stroked the Second’s face. “Good.”

Returning to his Third, Vessel pushed in two fingers, gently stretching his entrance. The Third’s moans and hums raised in volume, with the Second lazily thrusting his hips in time with the noises while petting his hair, fucking his throat.

“Our loyalty is to you and you alone,” the Second continued, fingers grasping the back of the Third’s hood as he made eye contact with Vessel.

Vessel’s eyes narrowed as his fingers picked up the pace. “Not to Sleep?”

The other hesitated, cutting through his confidence for the briefest second before he answered. “Of course, we worship Sleep through you. Your will and His will are intertwined, right?”

It was true enough. But Vessel couldn't help the undercurrent of suspicion.

His Third’s thrusted back onto his fingers increased in speed, and he hummed bitterly through the Second’s cock to get their attention, clearly impatient. The Second’s thrusts began following the same pace. “Our Third is getting so irritable. You’ll have to make him practice patience.”

Vessel nodded as he pulled his fingers out about halfway, stretching his entrance obscenely, enough to catch the warm pink flesh within. Beautiful. “It seems so.”

He looked down at his own cock, hard and purpling near the end, and the lined it up with the hole. He leaned over the Third’s back, whispering close to his ear. “I will show you who you belong to.”

His Third’s breathing through his nose hitched as he shoved himself in. The intrusion was brutal. He moaned sharply, spine arching into Vessel and a choked sound escaping his throat, muffled by cock.

Vessel groaned, thrusting experimentally into the tight, biting heat of his body. He grabbed his hips, but was dragged out of his bliss as he felt the one he was mounting scratch at his wrists with rabid franticness. His Third bucked his shoulders, and it was only just now that Vessel recognized how dry the entry was. A tear fell down the other's cheek, betraying his pain, his moans becoming more pained.

“Wait! Please… you’re hurting him.” The Fourth spoke up.

Vessel’s head snapped in his direction, mildly irritated at being interrupted, at being told what he already had figured out, and he saw the other flinch. Despite the mild fear Vessel could sense from him, he did not avert his eyes. “May I help?”

The Fourth looked up at him, not daring to act without his say. Vessel relaxed, guilt replacing wrath. He knew this mood was unreasonable, and he wasn’t going to be unreasonable for its own sake. He'd made them all a promise, after all.

He reluctantly pulled out, and he heard his Third sigh in relief through his nose. “You may.”

The Second pulled out of the Third’s mouth, allowing him to pull in gasps of air as he pet his hair. “Good boy. You’re doing so well.”

The Third sucked air through his teeth, but said nothing as he nuzzled into his Second's hand, thoroughly declawed.

Vessel watched the Fourth reach a hand down his own pants, idly rubbing himself for several long strokes, and then slowly pulled his hand back out. It glistened, covered in wetness, the fragrant smell sharp and addictive to Vessel’s nose.

“Here, I’ll just…” the Fourth grabbed Vessel’s cock with his newly wetted hand and stroked, up and down, coating it in a fine sheen, even going back to the wetness between his legs to scoop some more. Vessel got even harder at the display, precum spilling from the tip. His Fourth took some on his thumb and rubbed it down the shaft all the same.

Fucking his Third with the aid of his Fourth's arousal... the thought made his mouth water.

“Lovely,” Vessel cooed, stroking the other's cheek as he worked, a distant imitation of how the other had comforted him when he'd first emerged. He leaned forward and kissed him.

It was more gentle than it’d been with his Third. His Fourth was so much less combative, leaning in with intrigue and obedience rather than defiance and struggle, letting himself be kissed instead of trying to match a rhythm and tentatively caressing Vessel’s cheek in adulation.

He couldn’t compare the two, just note the differences. He loved both just as much, in all honestly.

He pulled back, stroking his own cock, replacing his Fourth’s grip with his own. “Thank you.”

His Third had relaxed in his position, head hung low in reverence as he resumed his earlier position, steady on his elbows and knees. “Please… put it in again. I can take it.”

His Second scoffed. “There you go, making demands again. Vessel doesn’t have to-“

He was cut off by the Third’s strangled gasp, as Vessel shoved himself back in unceremoniously, feeding himself deeper into the tight ring of muscle aided by his Fourth’s lubricant. His Third stuttered, hands fisting the grass below them. before thrusting back, trying as hard as he could to get that delicious friction against the most sensitive parts within him. Vessel tilted his head back, humming in relief and lust, before setting a harsh, methodical rhythm, his Third trying to match him where they met. The noise of his hips slamming against the other’s filled the air.

The Third was much noisier with his mouth unoccupied, his moans loud and obscene, utterly shameless. “Yes! Y-yes, fuck me! Fuck me, please-!”

Yes. This was what Vessel craved. A consort utterly unfazed by showing and voicing and keening his pleasure for all to hear. Something ancient and instinctive in his bones beamed with pride.

The Second dragged fingers through his Third’s hair, pulling and forcing him to reveal his neck. His own neck was now completely healed, traces of dried blood the only sign of what Vessel had done to him. “So bossy.”

“Y-you’re one to t-talk,” The Third responded with a dry laugh, playfully sticking out his tongue even as he was rammed from behind. “You’ve been undermining the V-Vessel since he arrived.”

For the first time, the Second’s composure seemed to break. “I’ve been enacting his will. No more, no less.”

Despite the certainty of his voice, Vessel could feel the trepidation behind the words. Uncertainty. Something that had to be corrected. “My Second.”

He sat up to attention. "Yes?"

Vessel grinned, baring all of his white teeth, mildly stained pink from his earlier feast. “Fill my Fourth. Be generous, make sure he comes. But you don’t get the privilege yourself. Not yet.”

His Fourth’s eyes widened, before exchanging stares with his Second. Vessel relished the shift in demeanor, of giving orders with a degree of separation. 

His Second did not hesitate. He stood, walked over to where the Fourth kneeled, and fell to his knees, pushing the other’s legs apart firmly. “Relax...”

Vessel looked back down at his Third, paying the other two no mind. To his side, he heard the rustling of fabric, soft coos and shushes, and a sharp gasp and parting of soft flesh - “you’re so big-“ - followed by gentle moans and the rhythm of bodies tangled in ecstasy.

That wasn’t what he was focused on.

His Third was watching the other two with rapt attention, absentmindedly thrusting backwards onto his own lover’s cock. Vessel caught the tension in his demeanor, clear emotion read in his body language.

Love. Envy. Both, tangled together, like how his Second and his Fourth were tangled in each other.

Vessel hunched over him, stomach to back, and whispered in his ear. “You denied me flesh, earlier. Both yours and his. I understand. I don’t resent you for it. But I need you to understand what your place in this is. I deny you flesh, like you denied it to me.”

“It’s not fair,” His Third’s hips picked up speed, and Vessel felt him clench around him. It was clear he found the humiliation of it all, the voyeurism, the display of the ones he loved sharing each other without him… all of it made it so much hotter.

“It isn’t,” Vessel agreed, patronizingly stroking his head. “I will let you cum. But you must say it. Say that you are mine.”

His Third fell silent, aside from his ragged breathing. “I’m yours. I’m all yours.”

Vessel kissed his shoulder. His next words came out… softer. Not as demanding. A request, this time. “Say it again?”

His Third turned his head to look at him. Despite their conflict, their tension, the other's resistance, he could see the desire within his Third’s eyes: the desire to love him in the same way he loved the other two. “I’m yours.”

Love. Devotion. Worship.

His grin sharpened, animalistic and wild. He nuzzled his head against the other’s. “Good.”

His thrusts sharpened and sped up, and he grabbed his Third’s hips for leverage as he fucked him even harder. The one under him gripped his hands in return, a lustful mockery of handholding. Vessel kissed his shoulder, and idly rubbed his nose into the nape of his neck. A lesson learned. A bond tentatively formed. A truce, of sorts.

The Third didn’t respond, too lost in the precise movement of their hips, of Vessel bottoming out after nearly pulling his cock all the way past the rim of his entrance. Vessel was almost certain he was bruising his prostate, but if he was, the Third didn’t seem to care, wantonly moaning and pushing back with the same intensity as before again. Boiling hot tension was building in his stomach, reaching lower. He left a trail of butterfly kisses along the other’s back. He could feel hot need rising within himself, and noted the delicious sound of his Third furiously jacking himself off beneath their lovemaking. Even in the throes of passion, there was still the other’s desire to control his pace. He was not surprised anymore.

He spared a glance to the side as he heard his Fourth cry out. He was coming to pieces on his Second’s cock, his cunt visibly stretched and undulating around the intrusion. His Second had obeyed his words, because he remained still as a statue, his arms visibly shaking with the self-restraint needed not to keep fucking into the tight heat underneath him.

Vessel exerted a breathy laugh. “My Second.”

“Yes, my Chosen?”

“Has my Fourth come yet?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it.

The tremble in the other’s voice gave it away before his words could. “He did. I tried to be slow, but our Fourth climaxes easily, my Vessel.”

His Fourth covered his face bashfully, but Vessel was too deep in his own throes of pleasure to be angry this time. It was something that could be taught out of him, regardless.

His Second slowly moved his hips, and the Fourth clenched again, letting out another short moan. Vessel groaned, the knot in his groin winding even tighter at the sight. He wrapped his arms around his Third’s waist in a sort of hug, burying his face in the back of his hood. His Third’s moans pitched, and Vessel knew he was close, too.

“Second, you can-“ Vessel’s voice broke away, a moan sliding its way in, “You can… come… I allow you to. Come inside our Fourth, side by side with us. I want to watch you… I want to see you both.”

The command only had to be said once. His Second picked up his lover with a strength Vessel hadn’t expected - he really should not have let his size trick him into seeing frailty where there was strength - and placed him parallel to their Third. His Fourth, of course, reached a hand to the side, and his Third eagerly took it in his, his face pressed into the grass with no hands or elbows to prop himself up with. They both looked into each other’s eyes lovingly, even as his Third eagerly fisted his prick into the grass below, and his Fourth wrapped his thighs around his Second’s waist as he plowed into him with renewed fervor.

And his Second was right by his side, looking between his Fourth below him and back to Vessel, as if gauging his reactions. Vessel couldn't help it. He leaned forward, capturing the other's mouth in a kiss.

This one differed from the other two by quite a bit. While his Third's kiss was passion and a fight for dominance, and his Fourth's was worshipful and relenting, his Second was... grounding. Almost mundane, but that word failed to describe its pleasantness. He leaned in to kiss Vessel back, but it was not a fight or a competition. He yielded where Vessel wanted to dominate, but it did not feel like giving in. It was.... loving. So deeply, intensely loving.

Vessel reluctantly pulled away, leaving butterfly kisses along the other's neck. His Second kissed his nose. "I love you, my Vessel. I'm yours. Forevermore."

He was inclined to believe him. "Good. I'll keep you forever."

His Third whined underneath him, clearly annoyed with the lack of attention. "Please, please- keep moving"

Vessel reached a hand down to eagerly stroke his Third’s dripping cock along with him, his hand wrapped around the other’s, as he got back to fucking with wild abandonment. His Second leaned forward, fucking his Fourth with renewed fervor.

For a while, there was little sound beyond the thumping of flesh and wanton moans, a symphony of pleasure. Vessel felt so greedy, all of his consorts working to please him, or please each other in his name. And, distantly, he felt Sleep in the back of his mind, drinking it all in with eagerness.

“Mine. Mine, you’re all-“

When the tension in Vessel’s groin snapped, it felt like a chain reaction. Explosive.

His Third came first, pouring cum onto the grass below with a shout and a whimper, his hole clenching around Vessel's cock hard enough to fear breaking it. “Fuck-! Oh, ah-! Yes....!”

His Second was next, barely making a sound aside from an aborted shout that he silenced with gritted teeth. Vessel would have to warn him against holding back his noises. Next time.

The Fourth, who’d already came only a short while before, seemed to have built up the tension again, his spend squirting around where the Second was lodged in his cunt. His mouth opened in a silent scream as he tightened his thighs around his waist, which pitched off into a whine.

And Vessel himself exploded, all of the stress, possessiveness, strain, internal panic of today melting into his orgasm. He filled his Third past the brim, cum pouring down from his hole onto the ground below. Vessel’s wings flapped, casting a cool breeze around the four of them, and his eyes glowed with a satisfaction that the rest could not possibly fathom. “Mine…”

For a short while after, there was no more words, only soft panting and exhaustion with the slide and press of flesh and fabric as they held each other. The Second pulled out, the Fourth hissing at the loss and clamping his thighs shut. Vessel sat up, pulling his Third into his lap. He did not pull out, letting hot cum pour onto his thighs around his cock. His Third groaned, a mix of strain and pleasure, but he did not resist, leaning back into Vessel’s shoulder, his neck exposed for the other to kiss.

Vessel grinned into his flesh. “You were perfect. My perfect consort.”

He said nothing, exhaustion eclipsing his attitude. But a twinkle in his eye betrayed his internal fire. Vessel would hate to extinguish it, and he knew he never would, even after a thousand lifetimes. But where was the fun in not trying?

“We must clean up,” His Second spoke at last as he spooned his Fourth, “We have to journey back to our temple.”

Temple? The words struck a familiar chord within Vessel. He couldn’t visualize it, but he knew what it meant. “Home.”

His Second laughed. “Yes.”

“Well, there’s a stream nearby,” His Third spoke up, idly rubbing his hands along Vessel’s forearms where they wrapped around him. He leaned into Vessel’s ear, his tone picking up in that sharp, teasing way Vessel heard earlier, before he’d been taken apart. “We can bathe there. That doesn’t sound too bad, does it? All of your consorts, naked and vulnerable and washing each other… washing you…”

He breathed out a sigh, ghosting the other's lips. It was tempting, he couldn’t lie. A part of him - the part that hungered for control, the part that had taken the lead since he'd awoken - didn’t like how quickly his consorts could leash him, dull his edges, lull him in with promises of skinship and contact and love.

But the rest of him simply could not care less. He held so much power over them, so what difference did it make if, through these few things, they could gain some leverage?

He gently pulled his Third off of his cock, semen spilling out in a heavy plop onto the grass. His entrance was gaping and raw, and he cracked his back as he stretched. His Second helped his Fourth to his feet, letting him lean on his shoulder. His thighs visibly trembled as he walked.

His Third had been correct: the river was a very short distance away, crystalline and clear. While Vessel was stark naked, the others had been garnered in their own clothes, verdant cloaks and golden skull masks with fabric adornment, at least before they'd started ravaging each other. The only things they wore in the river was their masks with the tulles removed.

His Third charged into the stream, shrieking and slipping onto his bare ass. "Fuck, it's freezing!"

His Fourth followed His Second into the water, shivering and holding onto the other’s arm. His Second waded in with surprising stoicism. His Fourth laughed and beckoned Vessel forward.

"Come on!" Gentle hesitance. "Only if you'd like to, of course."

He wanted Vessel to join them, to be close, but his voice betrayed the fear of incurred wrath. That fear satisfied that darker part of Vessel again, but the rest of him found it unacceptable. He had made a promise. He would keep it, so long as he could help it. He could only hope to drive that fear away with time.

Vessel took his hand and followed him in, lured like a cat taking interest in a beam of sunlight. Docile, for the moment.

The water was cool, but the air wasn't as bitingly cold as Vessel had been led to think when he'd first emerged, only perceiving it that way due to the sharp contrast of the chrysalis compared to the outside air. His Third made his way over to them, he and his Fourth laughing playfully as they splashed at each other.

They all bathed, using the water to wash away dirt, blood and fluids from skin. Vessel helped to scrub blood from the angles of his Second’s back that he could not reach. The others cleansed themselves of semen and spend and sweat, as well as reaching over to wash it away from Vessel as well, small and large hands stroking his skin, flirtatious whispers in his ears and playful kisses of reverence along his body. 

His Third was right. He was enjoying this immensely.

He could appreciate their bodies without the cloaks, at least. His Second’s strong, reliable arms and firm chest, his Third’s thin, elegant proportions, and his Fourth’s stouter, thicker frame. His eyes drank in the image of them greedily. They idly chatted, quiet and low as to not disturb him, exchanging laughs as their hands roamed his flesh.

It was over far too soon, in his opinion, but when they’d all stepped out and dressed, his Third garnered him in a loose cloak. “This is yours.”

It was warm and loose, a shield from the elements. Vessel leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.

His Second held out something with both hands with reverence, bowing his head. “This is for you, as well. Another of Sleep's gifts.”

A mask. One with six eyes and gold trim, one that could never be made for a normal, mundane man. No, this was for him.

He took it graciously. “Thank you both.”

The mask was shaped to his face perfectly, allowing all of his eyes to fit and see clearly as he had without it. This was the correct choice. This was the only way forward.

He placed a kiss on his Second’s forehead. Then he beckoned his Fourth forward to kiss him as well, if only to be fair in his affection to all three. He grinned as he looked to the lowering sun, a distant moon rising behind him.

This was only the beginning.