#♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ'ᴍ ʙᴇɢɢɪɴ' ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛʟʏ; ɪ'ᴍ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴋɴᴇᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Quincy and Seviathan 」

[burning-fcols]

Seviathan was rather looking forward to being done with his duties for the day. Quincy was no doubt going to show up and while he shouldn't be nearly as excited about that as he effectively is, he justifies it with wanting to see how attached the owlet is to him now that valentine's day has come around. His parents had been in discussion with another of the nobles' families for a contract for a few months already and while he did enjoy the girl's company for their similar tastes in entertainment, both of them knew actual romantic love was unlikely to blossom. Seviathan was perfectly fine with that, but today proved a fine occasion to implement more of his plans for the owlet. How would he look, holding whatever gifts he'd come to bear yet happily hopeful expression consumed with those big, beautiful tears he cried whenever something got too much for him. Yes, today was going to be a wonderful time~ || Seviathan to Quincy || he was looking forward to the attention but it was too wholesome so he made it awful instead and i can't wait to write all of it out— xD - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ᴡᴏʀʟᴅʟʏ-ᴅɪᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴛʏ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 This is the first valentine's day in Quincy's life that has mattered... Every year, the holiday would come around to serve as a cruel reminder that he was unloved— as if he NEEDED any more of those —but truthfully, even that was of little consequence. Quincy so accustomed to the heaviness in his chest that it would feel odd to take a breath without it weighing him down. Watching as others engaged in new courtships, celebrated ones long-withstanding, or were arranged into beneficial agreements... It was but background noise to the insecurities already frolicking around in the owlet's mind. Tossing the mangled remains of wilted roses in celebration of a feeling that needed not a single day, but could be suffered ALL YEAR ROUND.

Today, however, is different. Today, Quincy is in love... Not only that, but he is loved in return. Why else would Seviathan direct so much time and energy at someone like him? Surely there are more worthy conquests. Yet QUINCY is the one being held in those unrelenting arms ( as if anyone else doing so would be a worse sin than any other committed in Hell ) , being gazed at by eyes so sharp Quincy can feel them cut with merely a glance. Dissecting him, pulling him apart to reveal whatever lies beneath... A vulnerability Quincy REVELS in, knowing it's not all pretty.

Most of it is likely very ugly... Yet Sev wants him to stay, regardless.

A mercy that unmatched deserves only the BEST gift on their first— and hopefully not last, foolish as Quincy feels at thinking into their future —Valentine's day. Cliché as he knows it is, there's a giddiness buzzing beneath his feathers as he approaches his boyfriend's lover's home. A mixture of nervousness and elation at the opportunity to feel this unique type of anxiety.

Forgetting in his eagerness that he could use magic to ease his burden and have his gift float beside him ( he may not be the strongest when it comes to spells, but levitation is hardly strenuous ) in his hold lies a large plant. Potted so it may continue to thrive— Quincy aghast at thought of gifting Sev with flora cut down in their prime —it had taken no shortage of effort to procure the rare and poisonous plant. One that he knows Sev has been lacking in his collection. Despite how much he neglects to ACT like it, Quincy comes from a family with its own fair share of pull. So procuring the specimen had been… difficult ( for him, specifically ) but doable.

Finally arriving at Sev's, it isn't until the other man is in sight that Quincy experiences a familiar sinking sensation in his stomach. Perfect present suddenly feeling like not nearly enough when in the presence of the man it is for. Swallowing his bout of nerves, Quincy flashes a sincere but shaky smile. The blush in his face pairing with the unease of his posture in a way only Seviathan can entice within him.

Peeking out from the side of the unwieldy plant, ❛ ear tufts ❜ sheepishly rest back against his head, ❝ H-Happy Valentine's day, Sev! I um, heh— I got you a gift... ❞ He lamely begins, face flushing brighter at stating the obvious. Clearing his throat, he nods his head to the plant in his hold, ❝ You have such an— impressive collection of plants and I wanted to help contribute. I noticed you didn't have this one yet and I thought you might... want to? Heheh... ❞

Please, please, PLEASE let Sev like his gift. 「 ☆ 」

[burning-fcols]

"Hush, sweet thing. Trust me now, it'll fit~" He's having entirely too much fun with this, and his poor partner is left trembling and over-full beneath him. || Seviathan to Quincy || i mean rly you can't post that and then not expect sev to take advantage xD - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ᴡᴏʀʟᴅʟʏ-ᴅɪᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴛʏ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Cloaked in the secrecy of Seviathan's quarters, things had started out normal as ever. Which is to say, if anyone ever caught them, there would surely be hell to pay. One glance would be ALL someone needed to see the potential scene unfolding. Quincy, a flustered yet intoxicated infatuated mess. Seviathan, the creator of this sinful garden where the snakes of temptation come to play. The vines growing around Quincy could certainly be called such, thick green roots having touched and teased... before tying up the small owl as Sev took over.

That's when things took a turn from the usual.

Hands bound above his head, exposed fluffy chest heaves as Quincy struggles to catch his breath. Heart pounds mercilessly, nearly drowning out Sev's soothing comfort. Brought upon by a concerned whimper Quincy couldn't choke down. Swallowing thickly, the owl sucks in a shaky breath as the other teasingly rubs the head of his hardened dick against the smaller's dripping folds. Slowly... Carefully... Tortuously. Impatient for Seviathan to finally CLAIM him, yet overwhelmed at the mere thought. Before Quincy can decide which feeling is stronger, virgin walls are stretching to accommodate.

Gasping as Seviathan begins to ease himself in, inch by wonderful inch, eye shuts and back arches beneath the larger man. A shuddering moan slips past an inexperienced throat, Quincy not aware he was capable of such a sinful sound. Faintly, common sense warns him about being too loud... but pleasure demands another sweet cry, Quincy's wrists tugging against restraints in an instinctive desire to cling to his partner. Trembling beneath Sev, tight heat clings mercilessly to the others dick, Quincy marveling at how Seviathan is right... It IS fitting. Somehow.

Honestly, it feels— ❝ P-Perfect... You feel... perfect. ❞ Quincy breathes without realizing it. Hardened dick drips pre from the tip as his folds welcomingly-drench his partner's, assisting with sliding into him as deeply as possible. Dazed eye fluttering open, Quincy gazes up at Seviathan with a puppy's eagerness to please. Face flushed pink, soft plumage fluffs as he whimpers, ❝ H-How do I feel? Am I... Am I doing this right? ❞ Honestly, he doesn't know WHAT he's supposed to be doing. Or if he even could when being overwhelmed by sensations.

All he knows is that he feels better than he EVER has before... and they've only just gotten started. 「 ☆ 」

[burning-fcols]

“If you really cared about me, you’d do what I’m asking.” ||Seviathan to Quincy || this is such a Sev thing to say xD

-  ✩   「   @worldly-diversity   」   ✩

「 ☆ 」   ‘If you really cared…’

Those words send a chill down his spine, blood growing cold as Quincy’s heart stalls. Feathers ruffling as eye widens slightly before brow furrows in a wounded worried expression, mouth twists into a grimace as he swallows thickly. Plumage puffing further, indigo hue grows bigger, riveted up at Seviathan with unmistakable fear. A fear that the other may actually believe what he is saying… and perhaps decide to do something about it.

❝  B-But, I… I just—  ❞  Quincy stammers, looking up into a stone-cold gaze, filled with enough disappointment for the owl to drown in, suffocating him in a heavy weight that crushes his ribs and stifles his lungs. Eyes pierce straight through his chest, almost as much as Sev’s suggestion pierced through his resolve. Leisurely spoken during a bustling party, the two of them surrounded by members of notable high-class. The perfect place to dissuade any unsightly outbursts or overly-shaky resolve. If Quincy were a cynical being, he’d suspect pre-meditation on Seviathan’s behalf.

Being a non-cynical being but also one who understands how intelligent and intimidatingly-determined the other man is, Quincy still suspects that the timing of this all isn’t coincidental…

So, voice hushed and gaze flitting around at the crowd— everyone apparently unaware of the domestic dispute; but Quincy wouldn’t put it past them to be listening regardless —hands fiddle in front of himself; shoulders hunched and ears laying flat.  ❝  It’s not that I don’t care or— or that I wouldn’t do anything for you…  ❞  Even if his hesitance is making that seem like a stretch of truth at the moment.  ❝  I just… It’s just that— Sev….  ❞  Voice cracks at the nickname, a pathetic plea lacing it as he looks up at the looming male.

❝  I care about you… More than anything.  ❞  

Then prove it.

Voice grows hushed, Quincy wincing as he lamely ends with,  ❝  But— I don’t know about this…..  ❞     「 ☆ 」 

[burning-fcols]

Seviathan blinked in surprise as he caugt sight of the owl at the Eldritch manor. granted he knew that his father had several people over in what could be considered a small business gathering or minor social event. Seviathan hadn't been invited nor interested, despite it taking place in his home. Interested in politics he may be, he wasn't always in the mood for it. Apparenty one of the others had brought their own children. "Quincy, was it? It's a pleasure to see you again." || Sev to Quincy

- ✩ { @worldly-diversity } ✩

{ ☆ } Quincy had felt nerves bubbling within his gut since he was first informed that he’d be permitted to accompany his parents to the Eldritch manor; despite the missteps he’d taken a few days ago, bumbling his way through a dinner party of lesser importance, but still something that would have benefited from Quincy... not attending. However, much to his surprise, he was told to dress in his best and fix his feathers— soft plumage far too naturally-fluffy for his parents’ liking, but there’s hardly anything to be done about that —so he could, at the very least, look like he belongs there amongst the elite.

When he inquired why, he had quickly fallen silent at the looks aimed his way, stern and disapproving— threatening a firm slap, courtesy of ‘talking back’. Luckily, his flinch tensing and holding of his tongue was satisfactory enough. Still, the owl was notably on edge the entire time, standing away from the crowds of important and imposing figures, both the elders and younger guests alike. Simply twiddling his thumbs and awkwardly glancing around, still confused as to why he’s around to begin with.

It’s not as he’s ignorant in the ways of politics... he just doesn’t care for it, or the deceit that runs rampant within.

Thankfully, his torment is interrupted by a familiar voice— one that he had been flip-flopping back and forth over whether or not it’s be GOOD for him to hear. The first time they interacted, Seviathan had seemed friendly enough. Even with their rocky introduction... but that didn’t necessarily mean it would transfer over to another meeting. Quincy has experience being treated coldly after what he had thought was a pleasant enough time. That’s how it tends to go when navigating these social circles. Makes it rather difficult to know when one is being sincere... and it likely doesn’t help that Quincy is always such.

Doesn’t stop him from taking the other male at face value.

There’s no denying the relieved smile that forms when Seviathan greets him cordially, seemingly pleased to see him again.  ❝  Y-Yes... It was— is. I mean... Heh...  ❞  Quincy awkwardly replies to the inquiry about his name, a light laugh slipping out as he runs the back of his neck, gaze flitting away for a moment in an attempt to compose himself. Not the most graceful of greetings, but still leagues above the first impression he had given.  ❝  Yes, I’m Quincy.  ❞  He lamely clarifies, shoulders hunching and head ducked in a break of posture, ‘ears’ laying flat as gaze raises up to meet Sev’s.

Clearing his throat, Quincy resumes his straightened posture; not that it does much to help his surprisingly inadequate stature. An arm held behind his back, other hand is extended out towards Seviathan in the polite offer of a handshake, ear tufts raising and sheepish smile slipping in favor of a more natural one.  ❝  The pleasure is all mine, Master Seviathan. Honestly, it’s a relief to see a friendly face...  ❞  { ☆ }

[burning-fcols]

Seviathan chuckled softly at the owl's flustered state as he circled him, hand never leaving the other as it trails from one arm across his shoulders to the other arm and slowly towards his front. Then, slowly his fingers drew up, over the feathers on Quincy's neck before resting under his chin and tilting it up. "You're so good for me, aren't you, Quincy? Such a good boy, so very obedient~" || Seviathan to Quincy || hello yes he's in the mood to tease gkshfk xD

- ✩ { @worldly-diversity } ✩

{ ☆ } Quincy is... accustomed to being studied; observed and judged by often stone-cold eyes. Contemplative gazes that seem to size-him-up, be it his worth as a successor to his family name or as a SON in general. The only eyes he can recall looking at him differently are were the slightly-fogged ones of his beloved Nanny... and the sharp ones of Seviathan. So, crisp and cunning, yet ones that Quincy finds himself meeting without an ounce of fear. Nerves a-plenty, but different than the usual...

Better.

Swallowing thickly as a finger trails around him, feathers fluffing with a noticeable shiver that waves through silky plumage, head follows Sev’s complete trek. One good thing about being an owl displayed in the way Quincy gets to watch the other male’s smooth gait, gets to keep focused on those striking eyes. With each moment spent in his presence, Quincy’s face flushes with deeper warmth, pale-lavender feathers dusted a blossom-pink. Breath shakes in his chest as a claw trails up his throat, the DANGEROUS yet intimate action sending electricity throughout his body that he hadn’t even been aware existed... Sev makes him aware of MANY things he hadn’t known about.

Such as how being praised for being so ‘good’ and ‘obedient’, something that usually causes his stomach to twist in a strange mixture of pride and nausea... can feel so— gratifying from Sev. Different than when he is praised for being the well-behaved son of an prestigious family. This feels— better. IS better. Because he’s being praised for being good for Seviathan, is seen as good by HIM. Fluffed plumage and flushed cheeks make the owl’s giddiness of this more than apparent, throat bobbing as he swallows thickly, heart feeling as if it’d been lodged within it.

But that’s impossible, of course... because he can feel it POUNDING within his chest, matching his quickened breaths. Tongue flits across dry lips, hands clasped down in front of himself, thumbs rubbing to expel some extra energy— and refrain from simply wrapping his arms around Sev at that moment, not wanting to disrupt this... posturing that’s been started —as an adorable hoot slips free, cheeks awash with heat at the sound.

❝  I- heh, I want to be good for you...  ❞  He breathes in what one might call awe, although Quincy has no doubt that it’s love. Leaning a bit closer, ear tufts fall back and his lid grows heavy in an admiring gaze,  ❝  Because you’re so good TO me... I don’t mind doing what you want. I enjoy it...  ❞  Making Seviathan happy, seeing him so pleased and being graced with his praise, Quincy can think of few things that give him such warmth in his chest. Such a feeling of accomplishment and purpose. Worth.

❝  I’d do anything for you, Sev.  ❞  { ☆ }

[burning-fcols]

"You're so innocent~" He chuckled, pecking the littler owl on the lips. "Corrupting you is going to be so much fun." || Seviathan to Quincy

-    ✩   「   @worldly-diversity​ ​​   」  ✩

「 ☆ 」   Honestly, Quincy can’t refute the claim. Nor does he wish to. Compared to the demons around him, to the world he is meant to call HOME, he is rather odd. Not nearly a conniving as some, or bloodthirsty as others. Innocent and naive in so much more than people would expect a demon of his ranking to be, but hardly interested in giving into the cynicism around him... However, reluctant as Quincy is to change too much into what others would want him to be— it should be enough that he’s obedient and quiet and trying his best to stay out of trouble —there is an intoxicating draw towards... corruption of a different kind. 

A fluttering sensation in his stomach, feathers on his chest fluffing as they’re rattled by a pounding heart. Heat pooling throughout his face and painting pale lavender a rich rose, betraying the way Sev never fails to stoke that long-dormant fire within him. One that is both scary— Quincy never having experienced how scorching it could be until that fateful day when he bumbled his way into Seviathan’s good graces —and yet provides a life he’d been previously missing from his lonely existence.

Even just a peck on the lips— breath hitching and feathers puffing at the contact —is enough to make the small owl’s nervous sheepishness succumb to embarrassing infatuation. Fingers twiddling in front of himself in a telling fidget, tail tucks and ear tufts lie back. Shoulders hunching slightly in an attempt to hide his blushing face, Quincy emits a chipper laugh, holding a hint of a trill— a sound the owl makes when extremely flustered —and averts his gaze to the side, unable to keep looking into Sev’s sharp, wonderfully-intense eyes. 

How could someone like Seviathan ever look at him with such a gaze?

❝  Heheh— Well, heh... If corruption is going to happen, I um- heh, can’t imagine a more fitting place....  ❞  Quincy awkwardly retorts, poking fun at their situation. Hell is full of the stuff, after all. Wincing as he feels like his joke may have fallen flat— then again, it may just be his own doubts nagging at him —Quincy aims a weaker smile up at Sev, indigo hue big with quiet hope that he’s not hurting whatever it is that the other male finds worthwhile in his company. Especially when he nervously adds in what he prays will be read as a compliment; a testament, so to speak, to Seviathan‘s skill in the art of ‘corruption’.   

❝  Or anyone better suited for it..?  ❞     「 ☆ 」