#and like. yeah. because he is not in control and doesnt like what his body is doing to him. but he trusts jim to take care of him

[brutal-nemesis]

Since you suggested asks for the demon Castys AU...

I'd love to see if Neteri would let him outside like she did with Erebus, and how he would act during the outing, and find out what his reasons might be for not stubbornly fighting her at every turn. Or maybe he does take the chance and run for it? I'm mostly just curious how that scenario would play out.

Sorry this took so long but it's 3.5k words of these two being goobers so I hope that makes up for the wait!

←Previous - Castys & Terror AU Masterlist - Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: some dehumanization associated with slavery, threatened vivisection, noncon touching (unsexy), mentioned noncon surgery, mentioned aphobia

"I thought this was supposed to be, like, a good day for me."

"It is!"

"Put the fucking leash away, then."

"Maybe if you actually behaved for me, I'd consider it, but you're not exactly the most trustworthy, Castys."

Castys rolled his eyes, grumbling. Neteri was the one who'd fucked up his crazy arm surgery and let that creepy bitch H-something come in and nearly strip him naked, but, sure, he was the one being ridiculous. "I guess, but I never even said I wanted to leave the palace. I just wanted delicious street food. You're the one who's deciding to take me outside."

Neteri sighed. "Have you ever even had street food?"

"…No. I just, uh…" Castys scratched the back of his head. "It…it always smelled good from the window of the castle. But my parents wouldn't let me go and try it. Said it was 'unbefitting of my station'." He snorted. "Like I'd ever been up to their standards anyway."

Neteri gave him a sympathetic smile. "I figured it was something like that. Well, what you don't know is that it's best to eat street food when it's fresh. It wouldn't be as good if I just brought it back to you. Plus, I think part of the experience is eating it on the street! Well, not in the street, you don't want to get hit by carts-"

"That much was obvious, thanks." Castys weighed his options. Stay here and think of something else he wanted, or agree to humiliation and eat delicious hot food on sticks? Sure, his magic tongue made everything taste good, but what he wanted was variation, something he'd never tasted before. Those mysterious smells that always wafted up to his window. Fuck, he was already salivating a bit. It didn't help that he hadn't eaten much last night in anticipation of today. "Fine. We can go."

"Great! You won't regret it, I promise!" She said that like Castys wasn't already regretting it a bit, feeling the weight of the chain as she attached it to his new metal collar. The weird red arm she'd given him turned the same shade of brown as the rest of him pretty soon after he got it, but after a few days he'd managed to make it turn red again and grow claws when he wanted it to, and the first thing he did was use the claws to rip his stupid collar off. Neteri didn't exactly appreciate that, and, after spending the night with his wrists chained behind his back, he was gifted a thick metal collar in the morning, which was just…lovely.

Maybe she was right about him not being trustworthy.

"So, what, we're gonna walk around and I'm gonna be your little slave boy?" Castys asked as they made their way through the palace's hallways.

Neteri shrugged. "Something like that. People aren't really going to pay you any mind. Slaves are common enough here."

"Do other people take their slaves for walks like dogs?"

"No, because other people aren't as nice as me," Neteri said proudly.

"Right, of course. I'm very grateful that you cut my arm off and then did a shit job of putting a new one on."

"Okay," Neteri sighed, "I get it. How about I turn the leash invisible, is that enough for you?"

Castys didn't give much of a shit about what random city people thought, mainly just bothered by the pull of the thing on his neck, but…"If you do are you still gonna drag me around by it? It'd look pretty fucking stupid."

"I guess not, so…here." She grabbed his right hand, the links of chain sort of balled up between their palms. "That's not too much touching for you, is it?"

"I can live with it." It was a hell of a lot better than the alternative, and he didn't mind his hands being touched, really. He had to shake a lot of hands with a lot of random people back in his old life, so he was used it. Neteri did her invisible-leash magic, and they continued on their way.

Outside was bright, which was not surprising, but he still had to blink a few times. Fuck, he…he forgot how nice the sun felt. He hadn't even considered the actual outside part of being outside, and it was pretty nice. The sun, the birds, the salty sea breeze, the little lady tugging him along to somewhere…

"So where exactly are we going?" he asked, glancing down streets as they passed them by.

"The seaside market. They have the best food stalls in the city. I don't really have a particalur one in mind, though, so if you see something you want just let me know."

"Sounds good." Castys's stomach grumbled, and he found himself feeling a bit excited. He was going to get good food and get to look at the ocean, which he'd always had a fascination with. He made trips to the seaside when he could back home, but there was always a part of him that longed to hop on a boat and sail away. He…he could do that today, if he played his cards right. Get away from Neteri somehow and stow away until he got discovered and then be forced to work so he didn't get thrown overboard-

Wait, why did his escape daydream end in him basically being a slave again? Could he really not imagine just being free? He tried, but he realized he had no idea what he would do. Freedom to do what he wanted was sort of a foreign concept, now that he thought about it. Most of his life had been dictated by his parents, his future set in stone, never allowed room to even dream of another destiny. But then that other destiny came and it was a brand on his chest and a metal collar around his neck and he still didn't have control over a single fucking thing.

And you would think the idea of finally having control would be attractive but it wasn't it was overwhelming and nauseating and he was a little relieved when the ship's captain caught him and told him to scrub the deck because at least he knew what he needed to do he didn't have to sit there and try to come up with something he'd never had to before he probably wasn't even good at it he wasn't built for it he was just supposed to be-

"-ou alright? Castys?" Neteri was looking up at him, concern in her eyes. She'd pulled them into a quiet side street without him realizing it.

His mouth was dry, and he wondered if he'd been breathing quickly. He swallowed. "Um, yeah, I think I just…got overwhelmed for a second." He plastered a smile on his face. "I'm fine now."

Neteri frowned slightly. "If you say so. Just let me know if this is too much and you want to go back, okay?"

Castys huffed and rolled his eyes. "Trust me, I'm not gonna want to go back."

"I suppose you won't. But, just so you know," she took a step closer, and then another, backing him against a wall as her arm rose up to pin down his neck, "if you try to run, there will be consequences." All the kindness was gone from her voice, her words as cold as her gaze. "No one will help you, and, if they do, they will be breaking the law. You are legally my property, no matter if you believe it or not. And when you are caught, which you will be," her other hand slid under his shirt, pressing against his stomach, and Castys couldn't help but tense up, "I will cut you open and take a good, long look at all of your organs." Her fingers slid upwards, the lightness of her touch making his skin crawl. "Is that clear?" Her hand stopped above his heart, which was pounding a lot faster than he'd like it to.

His eyes darted around, searching for someone, anyone who was watching, who saw him being fucking threatened in broad daylight. But no one gave a shit. That stupid fucking collar was all they needed to see, and suddenly this was okay. He was less than human, after all. Left with no other choice, Castys looked Neteri in the eye and nodded. "Y-yes. Yes, ma'am."

Neteri's demeanor changed completely, and she stepped back, beaming. "Good boy!" She took his hand once more, pulling him along like none of that had just happened. "We're almost there! I'm sure you're hungry."

Castys's appetite had disappeared, but smelling things would probably bring it back, so he nodded. "I'm known for my huge stomach, so you better be ready." This was supposed to be his day, so Neteri better be ready to get him whatever he damn pleased.

Just as soon as he shook off the feeling of her hand under his shirt.

Finally, the buildings gave way to the vast expanse of the ocean, the docks stretching out into the blue crowded with sailors and workers, crates of cargo and coils of rope, the stalls lining the edge of the street busy with vendors advertising their food to hungry passerby. All it took was for Castys to lay eyes on a beautiful, glistening skewer of beef for his appetite to come roaring back. He pointed at it, excited for the first time in ages.

"I've found our first target."

They wove through the crowd, waiting in line after line as Castys saw another thing he'd like to try, only stopping once they couldn't carry any more. They settled down on a ledge by the docks, and Castys took a moment to go over their haul.

His first love, the beef skewer, which he'd had a few bites of in line for other food. The meat had melted in his mouth, juicy and spicy and just pure bliss. Then, there were fried shrimp with a curry sauce all wrapped up in a flaky flatbread, a bowl of noodles stir-fried with pork and vegetables, sticks of crispy potato with a garlic sauce, and a thick mango and yogurt drink.

Every bite was better than the last, and Castys couldn't help but kick his legs back and forth a little bit as he chewed. Neteri watched him with a warm smile, clearly enjoying her food as well. Castys's eyes wandered as he ate, and he ended up watching a strong sailor lady unloading some cargo. She made moving those heavy boxes look effortless, unless they were empty and it was actually effortless. Either way, she had a cool headband and some awesome fire ink designs of sea monsters on her arms. He'd be happy to serve under her in his new sailor escape fantasies.

"You have good taste in women." Neteri was following his gaze with a dreamy sort of smile. What did she mean by…oh, that kind of taste. That kind of tracked for her, now that he thought about it. But as for him…

"Huh? Oh, I just thought she looked cool. I…I don't really have a taste in women."

Neteri cocked her head slightly, smiling openly. "Taste in men, then?"

Castys swallowed. She probably wouldn't care, right? It's not like it mattered for her experiment. "No, I just…don't." He stared at his feet, not wanting to see her reaction.

"Well, nothing wrong with that." Neteri said casually, taking another bite. Castys blinked, slowly turning to look at her, mouth falling open slightly. Nothing…wrong? Neteri noticed him staring and gave him a concerned look. "You okay, Castys?"

"I…" he leaned back, looking at the sky. "No one's ever said that to me before. My parents…it was the one thing that upset them that I wasn't doing on purpose." Their words echoed in his head, the yells that he was broken and faking it and not a real man hurting far more than any insults directed at him for bad behavior. "Are you sure there's not something wrong with me?" he asked quietly.

Neteri huffed, shaking her head. "Of course not. That's just how you are, and you're not the only one who's like that. You don't have to like people or get married or anything if you don't want to. It's perfectly normal."

Normal. He wasn't sure if he even knew what normal was, between his royal upbringing and his demon body parts. Still, while Neteri's opinion of things wasn't always the most trustworthy, maybe…maybe she was right about this. He'd rather believe her over his parents, anyway.

"Have you…have you ever actually met anyone like me? I just always sort of figured I was the only one." It sounded silly now that he said it out loud, but it's not like the topic ever came up when he met people.

"I have! My little brother doesn't really experience attraction, either. He just wants to live with his best friend forever. There are a few people I met in medical school who feel that way, too. So you're really not alone, okay?"

Castys couldn't help but smile, warm relief replacing the tension in his muscles. "Thanks." He didn't want to get too sappy, so he shoved noodles in his mouth. Thinking more about that could happen later when he was in bed and also by himself.

Neteri was impressed when he finished all of his food, and the look on her face when he said he still had room for dessert was priceless. Even so, she insisted he needed a little time to digest, giving the excuse that there were better sweets stands to be found along the cliff face at the back of the city.

So off they went, wandering through the maze of streets, stopping to look at whatever weird things she thought were significant, which included a dusty-ass bookstore, an old poster that she thought was hilarious for some reason, and, the coolest thing, a bunch of different rocks from around the world. If dealing with foreign representatives had involved more cool rocks, Castys might have actually paid attention to the discussions he'd sat in on growing up. Alas, it was all trade agreements.

Finally, they reached the market along the cliff face, and the bustle here was even more overwhelming than the docks had been. There were all sorts of crafts and magic tools and baskets of spices and, best of all, sugary fried stuff.

Castys examined his options carefully, in the end deciding to go with sweet little fried dough balls that came with a creamy vanilla dipping sauce. They were amazing, but his hands and face got all sticky, and Neteri laughed at him for getting custard on his nose. He got his revenge the moment she grabbed his hand again, rubbing his sticky fingers all over the back of her hand.

"You have got to be the grossest prince I've ever met," Neteri mumbled as she used her water magic to clean them both off.

"I try my best." Castys grinned, taking the insult as a compliment. His eyes wandered as she cleaned in between his fingers, a particularly colorful stall catching his eye. If that's what he thought is was…he could at least ask, right? "So, you know, I've been a very good boy, I think."

Raising an eyebrow, she looked up at him. "For the most part."

"Right. So, like, I'm full, and I'm very grateful for all of the food, but if there was, um, something I could get to have later…?" He flashed his most innocent smile.

Neteri relaxed slightly. "Such as? I don't know what's going to keep well, except for…" she looked around, stopping and smiling when she realized what he was talking about. "Sure, I'll get you some candy."

"Epic." Castys eagarly pulled her over to the candy stall, already weighing his options, wondering how many pieces he could get, and what he even wanted.

"You can get five," Neteri sighed, almost sounding like a tired mother. Five was enough for Castys, and, despite his initial idea of getting a wide variety, he settled on five different flavors of candy sticks. They were decently sized, but not so big he couldn't fit the whole thing in his mouth, which was important. You had to be able to have a hands-free enjoyment experience, but be able to take a break and talk or something using the stick to take it out. Castys usually kept the stick in his mouth long after the candy was gone so he could feel like one of those cool guys who sucked on grass without actually having to have grass sticking out of his mouth.

"I get the other flavors, but you're really getting one with a cricket in it?" Neteri asked as they walked away from the stand, putting his candy sticks in her bag.

"I've never eaten a cricket. I want to see what it's like to be a lizard."

Neteri giggled, giving him a slightly confused look. "I guess it's too bad I'm not turning you into a lizard then, huh?"

"If you were I would accept my destiny more readily." Which was true, he would enjoy laying on a warm rock in the sun for extended periods. He looked over at the stripey cliff face, wondering how many lizards were skittering around on there. For the first time, he noticed all the people gathered around the base of it, laying their hands on the dark crystals randomly embedded in the surface. "What's up with that?" he asked, pointing.

"Oh, that's where people send their energy and prayers up to the Midnight Sun." Upon seeing Castys's blank expression, Neteri continued. "That big symbol in the cliff. It lights up at night thanks to people's energy. It's believed that prayers said while touching one of the stones are sent up to the sun. Do you want to try it?"

Castys had never been the spiritual type, but he was curious about the wall itself, so he could think some thoughts to the ball in sky while he was at it. "Sure, I guess."

The cliff was sandstone, upon closer inspection, which wasn't shocking, but the crystals in the surface…he wasn't sure what exactly they were. Definitely added by people, at the very least, and probably fire element minerals since they made shit glow. Which was why he was here.

Castys put his hand on one of the crystals, thinking. This was basically like making a wish, right? He was apparently too much of a little bitch to run, so wishing for freedom was stupid. Maybe he should wish for some fucking direction on…on anything. Or he could wish to be a lizard who just got to scuttle around and eat bugs and not be expected to do anything. Or he could wish for a million more candy sticks. Or he could wish for something that was remotely realistic, just in case it might come true.

Dear the sun, please make it so I don't have to wear this stupid collar for the rest of my life. It's uncomfortable. Also I want to go on a boat at least once. Sincirely, Castys.

Good enough. He stepped back, a tiny bit woozy from leaving his hand on the crystal for too long. Neteri had already finished, so with that done, they headed…back towards the palace. It was getting sort of late, and he'd known they wouldn't stay out all day, but…

"Did you have a good day, Castys? Have enough good food?" Neteri gave his hand a squeeze.

"Yeah. I'm very full and in a little bit of pain but it was worth it." Manners might be a good idea since Neteri cut him open all the time. "Thanks for the food and stuff."

"Of course! I hope this makes it up to you after that whole mess with your arm."

"Nah, that'll take at least a hundred more candy sticks."

Neteri laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. Now I know where to buy them."

"I expect regular deliveries. No excuses." Maybe he'd be a better test subject if he got little treats more often. He could certainly be persuaded.

"Understood. I won't let you down." Neteri opened the door to the palace, gesturing for him to go first.

After taking one last glance at the city behind him, Castys turned and walked inside, the collar around his neck shifting as he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

The day outside was over, and his chance to escape was gone.

He wished he was a little more upset by that, but as Neteri led him back to his cell, all he felt was relief.

AU taglist: @vampiresprite @whump-in-the-closet

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump

@starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch​ @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump 

@painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad @befuddled-calico-whump​ @whumpinggrounds​ @whump-queen

@whumpedydump

[dennisboobs]

im actually getting so heated but i’d love to know your opinion on how annoyed people are getting about dennis “successfully monitoring his blood pressure” and actually being in control of his body. like??? huh??

I dunno, I don't really get why it's an issue for so many people personally speaking shsjnfnkhfjd this is like, pretty well established stuff, he's just gotten better at it and is using kratom to achieve it now. I'm jazzed that we're going to get (and have been getting) the Not Just Angry dennis that glenn wanted to play.

[pixlokita]

Painful wing fanart incoming but you already knew about it and colored it so like -w- hiding it for the gore and blood tho >>

I feel like it was less gory in black and white but honestly 👀✨ aight don’t mind me I’m going to the tag now

BEHOLD!!! AN ART TRADE!!! @pixlokita it is time!

Caution, do not click read more if you do not intend to read. This is 12,192 words. And no, I'm not kidding. This is so much longer than most of the stuff I write. That being said, enjoy!!!

Evan said Michael was sick, which worried Jeremy. Being sick should not mean Michael would try so hard to avoid Jeremy, especially since he knew it would make Jeremy worry about him more.

But the main part Jeremy was worried about was the way Evan’s new wings kept fluffing up. Was Michael mad at him?

Don’t worry about it, Jeremy, he told himself. If Michael’s mad, he’ll tell you eventually.

It just stung. Evan and Gregory were wandering around the house, trying to see if their wings would allow them to do various things. Evan’s were too small to do much, and Gregory still hadn’t gotten used to them yet, but at least they had something to do while Mr. Emily tried to figure out what could possibly cause this.

“Ugh!” Gregory exclaimed, plopping down on the sofa next to Jeremy. He took the soda from Jeremy’s hand and took a giant sip. “These things suck.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy asked, unsuccessfully trying to retrieve his Coke.

“I mean,” Gregory scowled, taking another sip, “that wings are stupid. They don’t even bend the way I want them to.”

“Well…” Jeremy said thoughtfully. “They are just extra limbs, right? With bones and joints and stuff?”

“I guess so.” Gregory finally gave Jeremy his soda back. “But they don’t move how I want-“

“You couldn’t do much when you were a baby right? Learning to crawl?” Jeremy chugged the rest of his Coke before putting the empty can down. “It’s an accomplishment when babies get their heads off the floor on their own, you know. And rolling and stuff.”

“Oh.” Gregory clearly hadn’t thought about it that way. “But Evan’s got excellent control already.”

“He’s had them longer.” Jeremy shrugged. “Maybe he’s just a quick learner. Or maybe, there’s less wing to work with. Could be a bunch of things.”

“But…” Gregory sighed. He inched closer to Jeremy on the couch, his wings refusing to bend in a natural way.

Jeremy awkwardly looped a comforting arm around Gregory. “You’ll get there eventually.”

“They just hurt. All the time.”

“I can’t help with that,” Jeremy chuckled.

“Sure you can! Mike did this thing once, where he…” Gregory chewed his lip. “Well, I’m not exactly sure what he did.”

“You want me to pet you?” Jeremy said in disbelief. “Nuh uh. Go ask Evan. That’s not… No.”

“Why’d you make it weird?” Gregory shook his head. “It was like…”

“Like a shoulder massage,” Evan interjected helpfully. His wings flexed, expanding fully as he explained. They barely went past his shoulders, but the point got across.

Jeremy admired the confidence with which he showed them. He’d personally be too worried about people calling him a freak. Which, thinking about it, was not likely to happen in this house. Everyone was too nice here.

“Mikey went like this,” Evan said, pulling Jeremy’s arm back to get to Gregory’s wings.

Gently, Evan messaged the inner edge of Gregory’s wings, right where they extended from his back. Gregory’s wings convulsed, the claw on one nearly hitting Jeremy in the face. “I think they get itchy,” Evan mused. “We might have to just do this more often.”

“No kidding,” Gregory said with a sigh, his eyes closing and his shoulders relaxing. “But Mike’s still better at it.”

“Wonder where he got his practice,” Jeremy replied. He didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it still came across that way.

Evan winched, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he kept focused on his task. Gregory sighed absently. “Wings are a lot of work.”

“Seems that way,” Jeremy replied.

Gregory folded and unfolded his hands while Evan worked. “I just…”

Jeremy spared him a glance as he went to get another can of Coke. “Something on your mind?”

“His girlfriend,” Evan said absently.

“Cassie’s not my girlfriend!” Gregory said, straightening. His wings fluffed up as he said it.

“Oh.” Jeremy had no idea what to make of that. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know!” Gregory replied. He ran a hand through his hair to try to make it lay flat. “She was at Evan’s party, and she looked really bad. I think Mike took care of it, but he didn’t really say anything about it afterwards.”

“She’s probably at the hospital, Gregory,” Evan replied, trying to be soothing. “We can visit her once we figure out what to do about this first.”

“Stupid wings,” Gregory grumbled. “Making everything harder.”

Jeremy didn’t know how to reply to that. He cracked the can open and took a sip. “Have you asked Mike?”

“He’s sick,” Evan answered for Gregory. His wings fluffed up again.

“Maybe we should check on him then. He’s been resting all week right?” Jeremy asked, trying to be casual about it. Evan had been very guarded about his older brother this whole time.

Jeremy came over every day, and every day, Evan said the same thing. “Mike’s sick. He can’t see anyone right now.”

It had been happening since the day Gregory’s wings had burst through his skin. Jeremy was more than a little concerned. Sure, he hadn’t reacted well to the wings at first, but none of them had. He’d been more supportive when Evan’s had burst through later that same day.

But Michael’s expression became very guarded for the rest of the day, and the next day, he was “sick” and couldn’t see Jeremy. And Evan was very good at shooing Jeremy away when he tried too hard to see him.

“Shouldn’t he eat something?” Jeremy asked.

Evan frowned. “Mikey told me that there’s not much he can stomach right now.”

“Crackers always work,” Jeremy mumbled to himself. Shaking his head, he tried again. “What about water? Maybe he’ll start feeling better with some fluids.”

“I… guess…” Evan seemed less sure. Conflicted, he looked at Gregory and then glanced at the closed door to his cousin’s room.

“I can get it. You keep helping Gregory,” Jeremy said quickly. He didn’t want Evan to change his mind.

Evan relented, nodding slightly. “Okay. Make sure to get him a big glass. And don’t be loud. And-“

“I know how it works when someone’s sick, thank you.” Jeremy set his Coke down and rushed back to the kitchen to grab a glass.

Evan had not been exaggerating. When Jeremy crept into the room with the glass of water, Michael was curled into a tight ball on the bed.

“Mike?” Jeremy whispered into the quiet room.

Michael groaned in response. He rolled over to face Jeremy, exposing the hair plastered to his face with sweat.

“I um.” Jeremy swallowed. He felt a little foolish now. Michael was just literally sick. He wasn’t mad at Jeremy or anything like that. “I brought you some water.”

Michael opened his eyes, feebly reaching for the glass.

“Are you strong enough to hold it on your own?” Jeremy asked.

Michael had to consider that for a moment. Then he shook his head.

“Here-“ Jeremy sat next to Michael on the bed, helping pull him into an upright position so he could drink the water.

Michael leaned heavily against Jeremy, eagerly drinking the water. Jeremy had to brace himself against the wall to support the extra weight. Then abruptly, Michael pulled away.

“J… Jeremy,” Michael whispered weakly. He gripped at Jeremy’s jacket, burying his face in Jeremy’s shirt. “I…”

“It’s okay, Mike-“

Michael seized in Jeremy’s arms, sobbing heavily. His hold got tighter and tighter as his body shuddered with pain. Jeremy tried to set the glass on the bedside table, but he barely had it on the edge and water soaked into the carpet as he pulled Michael the rest of the way into his lap. “I got you,” Jeremy said into Michael’s hair.

“It hurts,” Michael cried, still shaking.

“You’ll get through this,” Jeremy mumbled.

A tearing noise broke through the sound of Michael’s sobs, even as they intensified. “JEREMY!!!” Michael wailed.

“I have you, Mike. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

Dimly, Jeremy registered the large wings erupting from Michael’s back. Oh. Oh. This was happening now. Bloody feathers spread out, wrapping around Jeremy to return his comforting gesture.

Gradually, Michael’s crying ceased, and Jeremy was left holding an exhausted teenager with bloody wings. “I am sorry,” Michael whispered, pulling his hands back, the wings retracting slightly. “I did not mean to, uh…”

“It’s okay, Michael.” Jeremy tried to smile at him. He was determined not to squirm in discomfort from all the blood currently soaking into his jacket.

“I… should go shower,” Michael said awkwardly.

“Yeah…” Jeremy wriggled uncomfortably in his jacket.

“Sorry,” Michael said. “I can wash that if you want.”

“It’s not the biggest deal,” Jeremy said.

“It is if you go home wearing a jacket covered in blood,” Michael replied. “It’s only fair that I clean it, since that’s my blood.”

That wasn’t how Jeremy saw it, but he figured he wasn’t getting out of this. “Okay.”

Michael shifted carefully, putting his feet on the carpet. Almost instantly after taking his weight off the bed, he completely lost his balance. His wings flew out, trying to redistribute the weight, but Jeremy didn’t realize that as he caught Michael by the waist. Both of them tumbled off the bed, Jeremy hitting the carpet with a soft ‘oomph.’

“I am sorry. This was not my intent,” Michael said from above Jeremy.

“They take some getting used to, huh?” Jeremy replied, trying to ignore the heat rising to his face.

It hadn’t been much on the bed with Michael clinging to him like a lifeline. But on the floor with Michael on top of him, pinning him to the ground, Jeremy was suddenly aware of how close Michael was to him.

Michael smiled ruefully. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to walk on my own right now. I don’t know how I’m going to wash all this blood off by myself.”

“Maybe your uncle could help?”

“He’s probably back at the library again,” Michael mused as he crawled off Jeremy.

Evan wouldn’t be able to handle it, Jeremy knew that much. And he couldn’t ask for Gregory’s help without alerting Evan to the amount of blood that coated them both.

“Do you want me to help?” Jeremy asked, feeling the heat more intensely in his face. Please say no. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it.

“Really?” Michael chewed his lip, considering it. “I would not want to be a bother… But if you are offering…”

Jeremy’s heart quickened at the prospect. “R-right.”

“Help me up?” Michael asked.

Jeremy pulled Michael to his feet, unprepared for the wings to wrap around him again. “Um.”

“Sorry. I don’t have much control over them yet,” Michael replied sheepishly.

“Do they want me to carry you?” Jeremy gauged the idea of carrying Michael to the bathroom. It wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever come up with.

“It’d probably be less awkward than walking there like this,” Michael agreed.

“So I’m just going to…” Jeremy twisted around in the space the wings allowed him. Michael hissed out a pained breath, but soon he was behind Jeremy. “How well can you jump?”

Pretty well, apparently. Jeremy barely needed to adjust for the weight of Michael on his own back, hands linked beneath Michael’s knees. “Okay. Let’s get you taken care of.”

“I am not a child, Jer,” Michael said wearily. Still, he pressed the side of his face into Jeremy’s hair. “I am sorry to be such a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, Mike. You’re my friend. I’m absolutely willing to help you out when you’re in need.”

“Mmmmm,” Michael sounded almost mournful. But he didn’t argue.

“Okay,” Jeremy said. “So, I’m thinking they might need a decent soaking, right? Birds like to be fully submerged when they clean their wings right?”

Michael blinked at him from where he sat on the toilet lid. “What are you even saying?”

“The blood.”

“It is not dried yet. Not completely anyway.”

“So what? You were planning to just wing this whole thing, weren’t you?” Jeremy shrugged off his jacket.

Michael snorted. “I was planning to shower, Jeremy. But I guess I was planning to wing it, considering how I have wings now.” His wings stretched as he spoke, emphasizing his point. “I just don’t have the strength to stand there long enough to wash them off.”

“I-“ Jeremy sputtered. Clearing his throat, he tried to skip over the accidental pun he’d made. “Just going to let the water do the work?”

“That’s the goal.” Michael frowned. “There’s just a few problems.”

“Such as?”

“My shirt isn’t going to come off the same way it went on this morning.”

“Are you particularly attached to that shirt?” Jeremy asked.

“Not really. Could try to just-“ Michael pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“I’ll go grab a pair of scissors,” Jeremy said as Michael pulled experimentally at his shirt again.

He had to be careful walking by the couch, noticing Evan curled up for a nap. Gregory was nowhere in sight.

Returning with the scissors, Jeremy nearly dropped them upon seeing Michael. “What happened? I was gone for two minutes!”

Michael’s shirt was hanging off his body in shreds. When Jeremy looked closer, he could see sharp claws on Michael’s hands. “I…” Michael shrugged sheepishly. “I thought I could tear the fabric and take it off myself.”

Jeremy’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t let himself laugh. “Okay. I don’t think you did a very good job of it though.”

“It seems as though I failed…”

“Here, let me just…” Jeremy carefully reached around Michael’s head, one knee resting between his legs. It felt strange to be cutting through Michael’s shirt, but as the fabric gave way, Michael seemed to relax a little more.

Jeremy recalled Gregory and Evan both sitting on the couch as Michael measured the shape they needed cut from their shirts for the wings. Perhaps Michael needed a few of those done as well. Something to keep in mind for later.

“Hey, why is there blood all over-“ Gregory’s eyes widened as he peered into the bathroom.

Michael straightened quickly. Jeremy pulled back, hiding the scissors. “Hello.” Michael waved awkwardly, his wings stiff and very clearly exposed.

“You… you have them too?” Gregory’s voice seemed so small.

“Yes, it appears as though we will match.”

Gregory swallowed harshly. “I can help. I know how to get blood stains out of fabric.”

“I would really appreciate it. Thank you, Superstar.” Michael beamed at Gregory, who flushed a deep red.

“It’s no big deal…”

“Not to you,” Jeremy said softly. “But it helps more than you realize. Thank you.”

Gregory opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He scratched his neck as his wings fluffed up, finally saying, “I’ll be quick. It probably won’t be good if Evan finds out.”

“It would be best if he did not know how messy the process is,” Michael agreed.

Gregory nodded, smoothing his hair down before hurrying out of the room.

Michael wadded the scraps of his shirt into a ball and tossed it to the floor. “Now that that’s sorted…”

Jeremy determinedly kept his eyes from wandering as he helped Michael stand. His friend leaned heavily against him for support as he attempted to undo his pants.

Jeremy belatedly realized that the only way this whole thing would work was if the shower ran over both of them. I’m going to be drenched, he thought sorrowfully as Michael muttered to himself in frustration.

“You could probably just sit while I wash the blood off,” Jeremy said when Michael finally stood there in his boxers. “Since it would be less exhausting for you.”

Michael blinked. “I suppose you are correct. I should have thought this through more.”

“It’s no big deal, man. You’re probably dealing with blood loss or whatever.”

“Still…”

“Hey, it’s fine. You spend all this time taking care of everybody. Maybe it’s time someone took care of you, right?”

Michael chewed his lip. “I suppose.”

“Okay. We’ll get you cleaned up in no time, Mike.” Jeremy said, smiling supportively. Michael tentatively smiled back.

As it turned out, it was a lot harder to clean up Michael than Jeremy initially thought. He kept twitching away, hissing out noises of pain at Jeremy’s touch.

Michael clenched his fists in his lap. “Okay. Clearly this is not the proper solution.”

“I can’t do this when it’s clearly hurting you, Mike. I just…” Jeremy leaned forward to rest his head against the back of Michael’s.

“This is nothing. I have endured much worse before.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“Jeremy.” Michael said calmly, wringing water out of the washcloth. “I am sure it has become clear to you that things are not how they should be. The wings are only one part of it.”

“Yeah? What I’m hearing is that your father is abusive.” Jeremy wearily took the washcloth back, dabbing it gently against the space between Michael’s wings. At least like that it didn’t seem to hurt him.

“Well, not in the way you would think. Actually, I was thinking more of the comparison between growing limbs and losing organs. I think losing organs is still a more painful experience than this.”

“So you want me to just ignore your pain?” Jeremy asked, trying to decipher Michael’s meaning.

“I am saying I can handle it. I can be a man about this.”

No one is doubting that, Jeremy thought grimly to himself. “Maybe I can’t.” He tentatively rubbed at a clump of blood in the inner edge of Michael’s wing.

Immediately, it swung at him, throwing him against the sink. Pain flared throughout Jeremy’s entire body as he hit the floor. Faintly he registered that his face was bleeding.

“Jeremy?” Michael asked, twisting around. “Are you alright?”

“Nnnnngh,” Jeremy groaned. “I don’t think I broke anything.”

“I am so sorry. It appears that the wings are more sensitive than I thought.”

“No kidding.” Jeremy pressed his fingers to his cheek. He was lucky. The clawed joint of Michael’s wing had hit him just below the eye. Any higher, and he might’ve lost it completely. “Now what?”

“I suppose I should just sit under the water and hope for the best.”

“I think Gregory and Evan mentioned messages working out the soreness. Maybe I could at the very least-“

“I think we should avoid that for now,” Michael replied, his voice sounding stiff. “You have already been hurt once today.”

“Michael.” Jeremy tried to make his voice sound stern. “I knew the risks when I offered to help. So let me help.”

“Fine. Just do not do anything that will put you in danger again.”

“Don’t lie about how much it hurts next time,” Jeremy shot back. “Still gotta get all that blood out of your wings, you know.”

Michael clenched his jaw, but he only stared down into his hands. He couldn’t face Jeremy with the nasty cut on his face any longer.

Jeremy was lighter after that. He knew that even pressing a little too hard would make the wings spaz, and over the course of the next few hours, he succeeded with minimal interruptions.

Gregory popped in near the end to check on the progress. “Henry’s back. Do you want me to tell him about this?” He gestured at the entirety of the bathroom.

“I believe he should be informed. Please ensure that my brother does not come to investigate before we are done here.”

“And maybe grab him a dry set of clothes while you’re at it,” Jeremy said. As an afterthought, he looked at himself. “Maybe grab me something too, if you would.”

Gregory rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. How much does it hurt?”

“I suspect that I should be in more pain than I am,” Michael said, considering the question. “But Jeremy has done an excellent job of making sure the process is less than agonizing.”

“Uh, okay?” Gregory shot Jeremy a look.

“I can’t hardly touch him without the wings reacting,” Jeremy explained. “Nearly lost an eye the first time I did that.”

“So it’s bad.”

“It’s bad,” Jeremy agreed.

Gregory shot Michael a look loaded with concern, but he gave Jeremy a thumbs up. “I’ll ask Henry if he can get you guys some dry clothes. Maybe I’ll just imply that something else is going on in here if Evan asks.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Jeremy’s face burn.

“Gregory-“

But Gregory had already ducked out of the room, laughing quietly to himself. Jeremy sighed, preparing himself for the inevitable glares he’d get from Evan.

Michael sighed softly once Jeremy finally went to smooth out the wings. “That feels really nice.”

“Glad to hear it,” Jeremy said softly. “I think we got all the blood out.”

“Is it time to turn the water off then?” Michael asked, his eyes closing.

“I’d say so.” Thank goodness, Jeremy thought as he turned the dials back and pressed the tab down. “Now you need to dry off a bit.”

“Mmmmm….” Michael hummed to himself as Jeremy stepped into the tub with a towel and started rubbing Michael’s head with it.

Michael’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at Jeremy. “You really do like taking care of me, don’t you?”

Jeremy huffed out a sigh. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, would I?”

“I thought you just stuck around to steal our Coca Cola.”

“That too. But I do enjoy your company, Mike.”

The smile broke into a full grin as Michael tugged the towel out of Jeremy’s hands. “That is wonderful news, Jeremy.”

Did he really not know? Jeremy wondered.

Before he had a chance to answer, Henry peered into the bathroom, assessing the pool of water on the floor. He raised a tired eyebrow as he observed the two boys in the bathtub. “I wasn’t inclined to believe Gregory before, but seeing it for myself…”

Jeremy’s face ignited with heat. “I was just helping clean blood from his wings. Nothing else happened, I swear.”

“I was referring to the fact that Michael grew wings. What did you think I meant?” Henry’s eyebrows scrunched, and Michael gave Jeremy a funny look.

“I thought Gregory might’ve said something else,” Jeremy replied, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

“Are you alright, Jeremy? You look a bit feverish…” A frown tugged at the corner of Michael’s mouth.

“I’m going to go grab some more towels. And you two will be wanting a dry set of clothes, won’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded quickly.

Henry hummed at them before walking back out of the room.

“I am grateful for both you and Gregory,” Michael said, using the towel to dry the rest of his body. He slowly rose to his feet, finally able to stand on his own.

Jeremy determinedly did not stare. Instead, he wrung water from his hair.

“I would offer you the towel, but I believe it is too wet to be any real help. Seeing as your clothes are also drenched, the best course of action is to wait for Henry to return.”

Jeremy smiled weakly. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Michael stepped out of the tub, hanging the towel back on the rack after he went. Jeremy could admit that the wings looked pretty good on Mike. He’d been weary of it when he’d first seen the wings on Gregory, and he knew that Gregory was defensive about it now. But maybe seeing him help Michael would help.

“Do you need a bandage for your face?” Michael asked, making eye contact with Jeremy through the mirror above the sink.

“Oh, I uh.” Jeremy blinked at him. “It doesn’t… It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Michael’s mouth twitched. “I understand that me being like this must be unpleasant for you, but that does not mean you do not need assistance with that cut.”

Being like this? Was Michael phrasing things like that on purpose? Was he talking about the fact that he was in his boxers or the fact that he had wings? Jeremy crossed his arms before remembering that his shirt was soaked. He uncrossed them and simply said, “There is no problem. I just don’t need a Band-Aid.”

Michael walked back over, and Jeremy tried to take a step back before remembering he was standing in a bathtub. Trapped, Jeremy stood stiffly as Michael ran a thumb over his scratch. Don’t flinch, he told himself, but it still stung. The cut was pretty deep.

“You likely do need a bandage, despite your claim otherwise,” Michael replied. “I can help, if you need assistance.”

Michael gently wiped blood from Jeremy’s face and went in search of medical supplies. It stung when he cleaned the wound, but Jeremy found himself too fascinated by Michael’s cautious care to really notice. The tiniest furrow in Michael’s eyebrows appeared when he put the bandage on Jeremy’s face, and his hands lingered on Jeremy’s jaw for just a moment too long.

He almost seemed sad when he stepped back from Jeremy. “All better. See?” Michael smiled so quickly Jeremy wondered if he’d imagined the pain in Michael’s eyes.

“Y… yeah. Um. Thanks.” Jeremy touched the bandage, surprised by how big it was. “I didn’t realize the scratch was that big.”

“I still feel terrible for doing that to you. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” Michael asked.

Unable to come up with anything to say other than a request for Michael to kiss him, Jeremy shook his head and turned his attention to Michael’s wings. “Do they still hurt?”

“Not as much as they did,” Michael flexed them experimentally. Jeremy smiled faintly, recalling that Gregory was having immense difficulty controlling his own wings. Perhaps the size made it easier.

Michael made a face. “It appears that moving them still hurts, however.”

“Evan mentioned something about messaging the muscles earlier. He was doing it for Gregory.”

Michael brightened. “I suppose I shall have to ask for Evan’s help with that endeavor then. Thank you for the reminder.”

I could do it for you, Jeremy thought desperately. He didn’t want to just have to leave after everything. This was the most time he’d spent with Michael before, and the guy was just so chill about everything. But being in the same space as him, watching him interact with his brother and Gregory made him want to stay so much longer. Michael Afton was the most compassionate person Jeremy had ever met, and he wanted to be able to help the man who tried so hard to help everyone else.

It didn’t help that Jeremy was also hopelessly in love with him.

As Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, Henry returned with the changes of clothes. Michael turned his attention away from Jeremy to thank Henry and apologize for the water all over the floor, and Jeremy was left to awkwardly collect the pile of bloody clothes on the floor to offer them to Henry.

Henry stared at the rags for a moment, his face paling significantly. “These were Michael’s clothes?”

“Yes.” Michael was separating the clothes to split between himself and Jeremy, and he was hardly focused on Henry. “I could not find a way to safely remove my shirt without causing more pain, so Jeremy helped me cut it off. I am afraid blood does not come out of denim very easily, so my jeans are also a lost cause.”

Brightening, Michael put a bundle of clothing into Jeremy’s arms. “You can change in Charlie’s old room.”

“Why can’t you both change in here?” Henry asked, sounding confused.

Pressure built in Jeremy’s throat as he tried to answer that question. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of himself. Not by any measure at all. He just knew it was dangerous, what he was. People didn’t exactly approve of people like him, after all. Especially not here.

Michael gave Henry a scathing look as tears built up behind Jeremy’s eyes. “Maybe we don’t want to change in the same room.”

Henry blinked in surprise, but he glanced between the two boys for a moment before making his exit. Michael patted Jeremy’s shoulder. “I can go to Charlie’s room instead, if you would prefer to change in here.”

Jeremy still couldn’t speak, so he just nodded. The gentle way Michael nodded back at him filled his body with a strange warmth. A few moments later, Michael was gone, and Jeremy could finally change out of the sopping wet layers he’d been in this whole time.

Half-way through changing, Jeremy noticed that most of the clothes were baggy and easy to layer over each other. There were almost too many options. A jolt ran through him when he considered that Michael had sorted through the clothes. Either Michael was very particular, or he knew.

Hurriedly, Jeremy finished changing and practically ran to the bedroom where Michael said he’d be changing. He basically flung the door open to a startled Mike, who had jeans on but no shirt. “Is something wrong?” Michael asked.

His wings and hair fluffed up, like he’d been expecting a threat, but his expression was one of concern. Jeremy knew he was shaking, knew he wouldn’t be able to speak for a moment, but he stood there and just stared. Why did Michael have to be adorable in everything he did? The way his mouth curled into a frown made half of his mouth seem to vanish, like he was biting on it constantly distracted Jeremy from what he wanted to say.

He let his eyes wander over Michael’s bare torso as he tried to find the words to speak. The worst of his secrets was surely out already, and if Michael figured out his feelings, it would be less painful than him knowing the other secret.

Fascination over the jagged scar across Michael’s chest sprouted in his heart. Jeremy had seen it before, of course. He’d seen it in the bathroom, but he’d been trying not to stare before.

“Jeremy?” Michael looked worried now. “Are you alright?”

Maybe Michael didn’t know. Maybe he just hadn’t grabbed a shirt at all, since they had to be cut specifically for the wings anyway. Jeremy was probably just overreacting. And even if he wasn’t, it seemed that Michael wasn’t going to bring it up. “Uhmm. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Michael relaxed. “I’m quite alright, Jeremy. I’m not as weak as I was before. The shower certainly helped.”

“You’re um. You’re very fluffy right now.”

“Am I?” Michael ran a hand through his hair, feeling where it stuck up all over the place. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks for talking to Henry back there.”

“It was nothing.” Michael blinked at him, wings twitching. “Gregory did a good job cleaning up.” He gestured at the carpet and the bed.

The bed was made very neatly, corners tucked so much better than Jeremy could do on a good day. There were only faint hints that someone had been bleeding there, and they were only visible because Jeremy was looking for them. “Yeah. He certainly did.”

A fond smile crossed Michael’s face at that. “He’s so sweet.”

Jeremy didn’t really believe that, but he nodded anyway. He didn’t want Michael to stop smiling for anything. It was so much better than his frown in every possible way.

“We should… I um. I think we should probably head back to the living room,” Jeremy said awkwardly.

“Right, yes. I suppose it is almost time for you to head home too.” Michael blinked, like he was shaking himself out of a daydream. “Or maybe you could stay for supper?”

Jeremy smiled. “I would love that.”

Evan was awestruck when he saw his brother’s wings. “They’re so big!”

“Soft too,” Jeremy said, trying to encourage Evan’s excitement.

Gregory made a noise in the back of his throat before saying, “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

Jeremy stared at him, mouth opening and closing without words coming out.

“No softer than yours, I’m sure,” Michael said, trying to keep the peace. There wasn’t even a hint of a blush on his face at Gregory’s words. Were the jokes just going over his head? Maybe Jeremy was reading too much into it.

Shaking his head, Jeremy plopped down on the couch beside Gregory. “What happened to your face?” Gregory asked quietly.

“I wasn’t careful enough,” Jeremy answered, glancing at the two brothers as they talked about Michael’s new wings. “And Mike’s wings pack quite the punch.”

“Oh.” Gregory’s eyes widened with understanding. “That could’ve been bad.”

“You’re telling me, kid.” Jeremy shook his head, taking a sip from his can of Coke. “What were you and Evan up to today?”

“Videogames mostly,” Gregory replied. “Although everything here is so old.”

“Old?” Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “Nah, my parents are worse. You’re probably just picky. A bunch of this stuff is newer than anything my family could afford.”

“Your motorcycle is cool though.”

Jeremy smiled. “It is pretty cool.”

“Can you take me on it sometime?”

The smile faltered slightly. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“C’mon, please? All the stuff here is pretty boring, and I know Evan tries to be fun, but you can only play the same game for so long before it’s lame. And I don’t want to have to tell him it’s lame. It’s awful when he cries.”

Jeremy didn’t know what to make of that. “Maybe we could play a board game or something.”

“I wanna go on your bike sometime.” Gregory stuck out his chin stubbornly. “Or I’m going to tell Mike you have the biggest crush on him and-“

“Okay, okay! I get it. But you’ll have to wear a helmet,” Jeremy said, looking away and tugging at his shirt. “And long pants. Just in case.”

“Okay, Dad.” Gregory rolled his eyes.

“Well, you’re the one who said it’s awful when Evan cries,” Jeremy shot back. “And I’ve already seen how Mike cries, and I don’t want to see that again. No thanks.”

Gregory flinched at that. “I…”

“Not to frighten you, but it can be dangerous.” Jeremy sighed. “There’s only so much you can be safe. Not to quote my mom, but ‘I’d rather you be late than dead.’ It’s just that kind of thing.”

Seeing Gregory’s expression, he softened. “I’m a firm believer in the fact that both of us are going to get lectured by Michael when he finds out. So, when he tries, we’re going to tell him that I already told you all the risks and you still wanted to do it. Unless I’ve changed your mind.”

“No, haven’t changed my mind.” Gregory scooted closer to Jeremy. “I bet I’d survive a crash better than you.”

“No way,” Jeremy laughed. “With the way you’re built? No offense, but you’d be a splatter on the cement.”

“Rude.” Gregory scoffed. Not subtly at all, he tried to steal Jeremy’s Coke from his hand.

Amused, Jeremy let him. Gregory immediately started downing what was left in the can. At that moment, Michael glanced over and gasped. “Gregory! Is that Coke? Are you encouraging this, Jeremy?”

“He took the can out of my hand. I didn’t do anything,” Jeremy smiled cheekily. “Not my fault he’s so fast.”

“Mmmmm,” Gregory squinted skeptically at the can. “This is Coke?”

“Yeah?” Jeremy looked confused. “Why? Does it taste weird to you or something?”

“It’s better than I remember.”

Michael sighed, removing the can from Gregory’s hands. “That is because Coca-Cola has different flavoring in it than you remember.”

“Are you talking about the whole cocaine in Coke thing? Because I thought that was a myth.”

Michael shot Jeremy an exasperated look. “That is not what I am talking about. Anyway, Gregory does not need caffeine in his system at this time of day. He won’t get any sleep at this rate.”

“Whoops?” Jeremy held his hands up in surrender. “Look I-“

“It does not matter.” Michael shot Gregory a meaningful look. “So long as he doesn’t keep Evan up with his extra energy, it should be fine.”

Evan peered at them all from behind the sofa. “How did he even take it from you? I thought you kept a tight grip on those at all times.”

“Caught me by surprise?” Jeremy shifted his weight as Michael gave him a skeptical look. “He’s faster than he looks, I swear.”

Evan snorted, climbing over the back of the sofa, much to Michael’s despair as he said, “Well, that gives him a one-up in physical games I guess.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? I totally crush at Fazblock!” Gregory crossed his arms. “I had more blocks than you did.”

“Gregory, you’re supposed to get rid of the blocks, not keep them on the screen.” Evan shook his head despairingly. “I would’ve explained the rules if you’d asked-“

“It was different than what I’m used to, okay?” Gregory rolled his eyes. “I could totally beat you at Fazzy Kart.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Evan replied. “I still think you made it up.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Okay, that is enough.” Michael shook his head, smiling faintly. “Gregory did not make it up. Fazzy Kart just has not come out yet.” He ruffled Evan’s hair before walking away with the empty Coke can. “And I have something for you two to do when I get back!”

“A task?” Gregory asked.

“A task.” Evan snorted. “Ah yes, my brother typically assigns me tasks. No, Gregory. He’s sending us to do chores or something. Usually he’s more mean about it though.”

“No one understands my jokes.” Gregory’s wing twitched irritably.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jeremy replied. “He still laughed, even if he didn’t get it. Be nonsensical! Nobody cares as long as you’re funny.”

“That’s a terrible line of logic. I refuse to believe that people willingly follow your example,” Michael said, returning with a sheet of paper. “Evan, Gregory, I am trusting you two to find everything on this list and bring it back here.”

“We don’t have money,” Gregory said, but he still took the list from Michael’s hands. “And aren’t we supposed to stay inside until we figure out what to do about our wings? And wait, is it safe to-“

“You worry too much, Gregory. We can just ask Uncle Henry for help.” Evan peered at the grocery list. “What are you making, Mikey? This looks like spaghetti sauce, but you don’t use half this stuff normally.”

“Wait and see,” Michael said cryptically. His own wings twitched as he spoke, even seeming a tiny bit ruffled.

“With the overabundance of clothes Henry seems to have, maybe he has jackets you can just throw on over the wings or something,” Jeremy said, slowly rising from the couch as Gregory and Evan stood to examine the list closer.

“We can handle this,” Evan said with full confidence. “And we’ll try to be fast so you can get started sooner.”

“Thank you, Evan.” There was a deeper tone of relief in Michael’s voice at that. “My heroes.”

Jeremy smiled wearily at them all. “I should probably get going.” It felt like intruding to stay this long. Sure, they all tried to include him, but Michael probably had other things he planned to do while Evan and Gregory were gone. Perhaps he needed to talk to his uncle more or something. Regardless, Jeremy had overstayed his welcome.

“I thought you said you could stay for supper.” Michael sounded wounded. “Are you feeling alright? Do you need to lie down?”

He pressed his hand against Jeremy’s forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”

“I’m fine, Michael. I just don’t want to overstay my welcome, you know?” Jeremy ducked away from Michael’s hand and kept his gaze on the carpet. “Especially if you’re all going to be busy.”

“I won’t be busy until they get back,” Michael replied as Gregory tugged on Evan’s shirt to lead him away. “And even then, I won’t be too busy to talk. You can sit with me in the kitchen while I cook.”

“Yeah but…” Jeremy hesitated, combing a hand through his hair. “Look, I just don’t want to be in the way.”

“You won’t be,” Michael insisted. He sat down on the sofa where Gregory had been sitting before. Patting the cushion next to him, he waited for Jeremy to sit back down.

When Jeremy sat down, Michael gestured for him to scoot closer. “What are you doing?” Jeremy asked nervously.

“Your hair is a mess,” Michael replied. “I’m going to fix it for you.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy frowned, patting his hair self-consciously.

“It’s all tangled. That’s going to be a nightmare to brush out tomorrow if you don’t take care of it tonight.”

“Oh.” Jeremy looked away. “It shouldn’t be your responsibility-“

“My wings shouldn’t have been yours,” Michael countered. “Let me do a nice thing for you. Please.”

“I helped with your wings because I wanted to spend time with you. Not because it was a burden, Mike.”

“This isn’t a burden to me either. Let me help. Maybe I want to spend more time with you too.”

Jeremy didn’t have a counter to that, so he reluctantly sighed. “Just… be gentle on it, okay?”

“Of course.” He blinked, seemingly surprised that Jeremy gave in so easily. “I do need to go grab a brush and a comb.”

“Naturally.” Jeremy shifted uncomfortably on the sofa as Michael got up.

What was he even supposed to say to Michael? He hadn’t expected to get this far, and now faced with the opportunity to have a casual conversation with him, Jeremy panicked.

When Michael got back, the hair brush he carried had long strands of dark brown hair in it, and both the brush and the comb were shining with water. “I hope you don’t mind,” Michael said awkwardly. “But I know that hair gets really, really tangled, so I just wanted to make sure I could get the tangles out without hurting you.”

Oh. That was… surprisingly considerate. “And the water is supposed to fix tangles?”

“Better than a dry brush.”

Jeremy just stared. The most he’d been able to do with his hair was to throw it into the world’s worst ponytail when he needed it out of his face. All this talk of the more effective way to brush through his hair without making it hurt stirred something in his chest. There was nothing Michael would do that could possibly hurt more than the way he was currently doing his hair.

Michael sat back down and got to work. It was strange. Jeremy hadn’t had anyone brush his hair in a long time. His mother had been too busy with work to even notice that he needed help with his hair. Or anything really.

“You have really thick hair,” Michael mused softly.

“Yeah. Makes it a real pain sometimes,” Jeremy replied.

Michael was so gentle with it, apologizing softly when the brush scraped his ear or a snag was too rough. Eventually, though, he set the brush aside and started dividing his hair.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you with your hair,” Michael replied as he started braiding it. “I assume you don’t have a hair brush for yourself, or maybe you just don’t have much time to do your hair every day. But at the very least, braiding it back at night prevents most tangles from getting worse.”

“How do you know so much about this stuff, dude?” Jeremy wondered. “Like, you know more about this than I do.”

“I…” Michael hesitated. “Evan’s not my only sibling. I had a sister. Elizabeth. Her hair was more of a nightmare than this.”

“Oh.” Jeremy fidgeted. He didn’t know what to do with that information.

“And, there!” Michael twisted a ponytail into the end of Jeremy’s hair. “Less problems for later, see?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy touched a hand to the braid, smiling softly. “Thanks, man.”

“It’s nothing.”

“But I say it is something. Come here, Mike.”

Michael’s wings fluffed up ever so slightly, but he did as Jeremy asked, unprepared for the tackle-hug Jeremy gave him. He gasped in alarm as they ended up on the floor, but when he looked up at Jeremy, it was with what Jeremy could only describe as adoration. Then he was suddenly pressed completely up against Michael as his wings wrapped around them both.

Of course, that was also the moment Evan and Gregory came back from their shopping trip with the supplies Michael had asked for. Letting Jeremy up, Michael immediately accepted the groceries from Evan and went straight to the kitchen. Gregory and Evan were left staring at Jeremy, who was sitting with a ridiculous grin on his face.

“Might need some help preparing this!” Michael called.

Before any of them could move toward the door, however, Henry walked by to go help Michael. Which left Jeremy to get teased by the two younger boys.

“What was that about?” Evan asked, picking a long blue feather out of Jeremy’s hair.

“What were you doing on the floor?” Gregory asked.

“Mike did my hair,” Jeremy replied, gesturing at the hairbrush that now had long strands of gold intertwined with the brown.

Evan looked thoughtful as he fiddled with the feather. “I didn’t know Mikey knew how to do hair.”

“Didn’t you tell me you had a sister?” Gregory asked, picking a smaller, brown feather from Jeremy’s shirt. “He could’ve done her hair once or twice.”

“Maybe…” Evan didn’t sound very sure. “Mikey wasn’t… I don’t know. Maybe he did. I never knew, though.”

“He did mention it when I asked…” Jeremy said, suddenly embarrassed to know more than Evan.

Evan fiddled with the feather more. “He seems to like you a lot.”

“Mike?” Jeremy asked, even more embarrassed now.

“Yeah. He smiles when he talks to you.”

“Except that one day,” Gregory interrupted. “He came inside and cried.”

“That was something else, I think,” Evan responded. “I think the Nightmares finally got to him.”

“So I take it Mike doesn’t usually talk about his issues then?”

“Not usually.” Evan squirmed, his wings puffing up. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shook his head and finally got off the floor. “Do you want to try playing Kings in the Corner again?”

“Ugh, that’s so boring,” Gregory replied, but Evan was already rushing off to get the cards.

“I need a second. I’ll be right back,” Jeremy said, slipping into the kitchen to grab another can of Coke.

Michael glanced over from where he was cutting an onion and just sighed. “Jeremy-“

“I know, I know. It’s bad for me or whatever. But I need it, okay?” Jeremy took a long swig from the can. “Better than some habits.”

“Still…”

“It’s fine dude. Cut your onion or whatever.”

Henry said something that Jeremy didn’t catch as he rushed back to the living room. “Okay, are we ready to start?”

“This game is stupid,” Gregory grumbled. He was holding his seven cards, and Evan had already laid out the board.

“I dealt, so Gregory goes first,” Evan replied, ignoring Gregory’s comment.

“Lucky,” Jeremy said, eyeing the board.

“I don’t even know how to play,” Gregory complained. “This game is for old people.”

“I guess we’re old then.” Jeremy’s eyes twinkled. “You have to play a card from your hand onto one of those four cards.” He pointed at the two of diamonds, the king of spades, the four of diamonds, and the seven of diamonds respectively. “You want it to be a lower rank, or less points than the card on the stack. And it’s gotta be the opposite color.”

“Oh.” Gregory stared at his hand for a moment.

“You gotta tell him about the kings, Jeremy.” Evan shook his head. “If there’s a king, you can move it into the spaces between the four other cards, and put a new foundation card down.”

“Huh.” Gregory frowned. “This is too confusing.”

“It really isn’t,” Jeremy laughed, taking another sip from his Coke. “If you really want, you can add your cards back to the foundation pile and watch me and Evan play a game.”

“I’m just going to do that.” Gregory stuck his cards back in the bigger stack.

“Suits don’t matter,” Evan said helpfully. “Only color does.”

Jeremy set off to move the king, and the game begun. Evan went out on his first turn.

“Okay, that was a bad example,” Evan said with a grin.

“You didn’t shuffle very well,” Jeremy said accusingly.  “That was- arghhh. We’re playing another game so Gregory can actually see how the game works.”

“Are we doing points?” Evan said innocently.

“We will once Gregory joins in,” Jeremy replied, collecting the cards from the board. “These are warm-up rounds.”

“Riiiiight,” Gregory replied with an amused snort. “You just got destroyed.”

“Thank you for the obvious and accurate commentary, Gregory.” Jeremy rolled his eyes.

When he flipped the four cards over, three of them were kings. Jeremy let out an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing and Evan grinned at the board. Just like that, he was down to one card. Jeremy scowled at his own cards as it became his turn.

“All four kings on the board in the first turn,” he grumbled.

“Now who’s bad at shuffling?” Evan replied, watching Jeremy’s hand drop to three cards.

“Oh, shut up.”

Evan snickered as it became his turn. “I almost wonder if you were trying to let me win.” He took the ace of diamonds and placed it on the two of clubs that Jeremy had missed during his turn. “Do you have the hang of it yet, Gregory? We may need a third player or this are going to be some very quick games.”

“Ha ha.” Jeremy said as Evan gathered up the cards again. “I’m just used to people who aren’t paying attention nearly as much as you do.”

“I’m just playing the game,” Evan said with a cheeky grin. “You had a six of spades in your hand? You could’ve played that on the seven-“

“I don’t want to hear it!” Jeremy sighed, exaggerating his grief as he drank from his can. “You have eyes like a hawk.”

Evan just hummed at that, his eyes twinkling as he shuffled the cards again. “What do you say, Gregory? Want to try and give it another shot?”

“Sure. Can’t be any worse than Jeremy, right?”

“Alright, I get it.” Jeremy shook his head. “I guess this game isn’t as awful as you want to claim it is, huh?”

“We’ll see.”

Evan pulled out a baggy filled with little red chips and shook it for a moment. “I didn’t have a chance to grab paper, so we can just play with chips, right?”

“Let’s give Gregory one trial run first,” Jeremy said as Gregory stared blankly at the chip bag. “Let him get a feel for the game.”

Gregory’s first round went okay. He managed to play half his cards in the first go, but he failed to notice that he could’ve moved the king to the corner right away, and Jeremy took advantage of that. Humming to himself, Jeremy quickly went through his turn and waited for Evan.

“That is absurd,” Gregory said, watching Evan put down cards and move piles around rapidly. “There’s no way you’re not cheating.”

“It’s all natural, Gregory,” Evan said cheerfully. “You’re just mad because I’m better at games than you are.”

“Grrrrrr….” Gregory scowled as Evan tapped his own card against the table. He put down his one card and waited for Jeremy to go.

Adding another person really did slow down the game a lot, Jeremy thought to himself. This was the first round someone had actually had to draw a card. Evan hummed, but he also needed to draw a card. Unlike Jeremy, however, Evan couldn’t play his. Finally, the game was even again.

Gregory scowled at his cards. “What do I do if I can’t play?”

“Draw,” Jeremy said. “We’ve both done it.”

Grumbling, Gregory drew a card. He brightened as he realized he could play it, and then it was Jeremy’s turn. Jeremy sighed in relief as he was able to play a card on Gregory’s queen, and then move a ten on top of that. Moment of truth, he thought to himself as Evan studied his hand. Michael’s brother shook his head and drew another card. And promptly played it.

Gregory and Jeremy both groaned at that. “See, but now things get interesting,” Evan said cheerfully. “We’ve all been drawing cards and actually have to pay attention to the board.”

“Don’t you always have to pay attention to the board?” Gregory asked as he drew another card. “Ugh.”

“Depends on how close,” Jeremy said smugly, laying down his one card. “I win this round.”

Evan sighed wearily, but he said nothing as Jeremy collected the cards to shove them at Gregory. “Your turn to shuffle.”

Gregory pushed the cards back at Jeremy. “I don’t know how.”

“I guess I can do it for you. But you’re still dealing, alright? Seven cards to each of us.”

Gregory nodded as Jeremy shuffled, and Evan quickly explained how chips worked. Everyone put one chip in at the beginning. Then, when you drew a card, you’d put another chip in. Each card at the end of the game still in your hand was another chip, except for kings. Kings were ten chips.

They all put one chip in the middle as Gregory passed out cards.

“Ready for your first real round, Gregory?” Jeremy asked, looking over his cards.

Gregory huffed, but he nodded anyway. “This is still dumb.”

“What if we made it a bit more fun?” Evan asked. “I’ll put in this feather.” He held up the blue feather he’d picked out of Jeremy’s hair.

“We’re playing for feathers?” Gregory asked. “But we both have feathers.”

“Not just any feathers. Michael’s feathers. I know him better than you do, trust me. He wouldn’t just give those away.”

Gregory considered it for a moment as Jeremy bit his lip. It seemed plenty easy to get feathers in his opinion. Michael shed two of them while Jeremy hugged him before. “Deal. I’ll put in this one.”

Gregory set the brown feather on top of the three chips. Evan did the same with the blue feather. Both of them glanced at Jeremy expectantly.

“I don’t have any. You both took those from me in the first place.” Jeremy rolled his eyes. The feathers were cool, though.

He kind of wished he had some of his own, maybe to braid through his hair or something. But that required winning this game. And since Evan was really good at Kings in the Corner, and also used all the chips in the box, it was really unlikely that he’d win them at the end.

“How about…” Jeremy put twenty more chips in the pot. “I know it doesn’t balance out at all, but you two seem to really want those feathers.”

Evan grinned, and so, the game began.

Gregory surprised them all by nearly going out in his first turn, but Evan still won the first game. They played in relative silence, too busy concentrating to hold a proper conversation. Evan crushed them in the first few rounds, but Gregory eventually got a win when Evan had 6 cards in his hand, resulting in a somewhat decent counter-balance.

It did nothing for Jeremy though. He looked nervously at his dwindling pile of chips every time the game ended and knew it was very unlikely that he’d win. It wasn’t impossible, sure, but it was incredibly unlikely.

“This is eight, Gregory,” Evan said absently, after Jeremy had already played his first turn. “We can play it, but you should pay better attention.”

Jeremy bit his lip at that. He was losing really bad. He really needed a win, and he needed one where the other two were struggling. Accidentally starting a round on eight cards was not a great way to start that.

“How did you even notice that?” Gregory asked.

“Eight feels thicker than seven.”

“How much do you play cards? Jeez,” Jeremy asked as it became Gregory’s turn.

“Enough,” Evan said with an amused smile. “I usually play alone.”

“This doesn’t feel like a game you can play alone,” Gregory muttered.

“You can. It’s just not as fun. But I don’t play this,” Evan said as Jeremy had to draw yet again. “I play Solitare.”

“Right, silly me.” Gregory shook his head. “Dude, how are you losing the game you suggested?”

“It takes a lot of luck, Gregory.” Jeremy sighed, having emptied his can of Coke long ago. “I’ve already accepted my fate. Now it’s just a matter of wondering who wins overall.”

They all fell quiet again as they settled back into their concentration. A few tense rounds went by as they all drew cards. When Evan finally played a card, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he’d last another round.

Or… maybe not. It was a close thing, that balance between drawing and playing. “Are we going to go through the whole deck?” Gregory eventually wondered.

“Maybe,” Jeremy replied wearily.

The pot was massive at this point. Evan’s brow was continuously furrowed, and even his wings were stiff with concentration. There’s no strategy that trumps the good cards being at the bottom of the deck, Jeremy thought to himself with grim amusement.

“Ha!” Gregory shouted his delight as he finally laid his last card.

Jeremy sighed sorrowfully as he glanced at his four chips. He would only have two left for another game after this. If only it had been Jeremy who’d drawn the card to end the game.

“I don’t even remember who shuffled that one,” Jeremy said as Gregory gathered the pot.

“It was Gregory. He started us with eight cards,” Evan replied. “You shuffle next.”

“I’m not going to make it through this game,” Jeremy muttered.

“Then we’ll just play it out, and you can be done after,” Evan shrugged. “Who knows, maybe you’ll win?”

“For every draw you have that you can’t play, I’ll put in a chip,” Gregory offered as Jeremy put his last chip in the pot. “It’ll keep things fair.”

“I’m sure,” Jeremy muttered.

“Awww, you are a grumpy old man. Evan look! He’s so grumpy.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

Evan put his last card down, and Jeremy shook his head. “I’m out. Good luck, Gregory.”

He wondered what Michael and Henry were up to in the kitchen. It had been two hours of this, after all. Surely preparing a meal wouldn’t take that long, especially since Evan implied Michael was making spaghetti.

“Okay, I gotta know. What spaghetti takes three hours to make?” Jeremy said, sitting down at the kitchen table with Henry.

“It’s not the spaghetti that takes so long,” Michael replied from the stove. “It’s the sauce.”

“But why?”

“The flavor has to soak in from the leaves.” Michael shrugged, moving to sit down with them. “What were you playing in there?”

“Cards.” Jeremy shrugged. “Gregory said it was for old people.”

“Then he must have never played cards before,” Henry commented.

“Maybe it’s his age,” Michael suggested.

“Nah. Your brother got really into it. He’s been beating both of us.”

“THAT’S SO STUPID!!!” Gregory shouted from the other room.

Evan laughed and said something in response, as they all glanced toward the hallway.

“No way,” Gregory said, his voice still projecting from the other room. “That’s so stupid!”

“I think the sauce is about done,” Michael said, rising from his seat again. “I should probably begin on the actual spaghetti.”

“I appreciate you deciding to cook for us, Michael,” Henry said. “And not that I’m complaining about your food, but this seems more complicated than some of the other stuff you’ve made.”

Michael just blinked at him, filling a pot with water. “It’s just spaghetti.”

Gregory and Evan walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “It smells great in here,” Evan said.

Michael glanced at his brother and at Gregory for a moment. “Who won?”

“Evan,” Gregory grumbled crossing his arms. “But he cheats.”

“I do not! Withholding cards on my turn is within the rules of the game. Just because it means you have to draw more doesn’t mean it’s cheating!” Evan argued.

“He’s right, Gregory. If he’s withholding cards, it’s still a risk to him since you can easily draw a card at any moment and win the game yourself. There’s a reason it’s ten chips if you’re holding a king at the end of the game.”

“Hmph,” Gregory scowled.

“Jeremy, do you need a new bandage for your face?” Henry asked as Gregory and Evan glared at each other from across the table.

“What? Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.” Jeremy hadn’t realized that the edge of his bandage was peeling off.

“We’ll get that taken care of later,” Henry said. “Were you planning on staying over tonight?”

“I…” Jeremy glanced around the room. “I don’t know.”

“If you decide to stay, let me know so I can tell your parents,” Henry replied, seemingly satisfied. “And would you like another can of Coca-Cola?”

“Yes please.”

“Don’t encourage his addiction, Henry.” Michael crossed his arms as he leaned against the counter.

Jeremy responded by sticking his tongue out at Michael. Michael shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Jeremy saw a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Can I have one too?” Gregory asked.

“Absolutely not,” Michael replied. His wings twitched slightly. “You’re done with caffeine for the rest of the night. If you’re this loud after half a can, I shudder to think of what would happen if you got a full can of Coke.”

“You’re not my mom,” Gregory grumbled.

Jeremy’s mouth twitched. “He tries to act like it though, doesn’t he?”

Michael made an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing. Evan giggled too, adding, “Mama bird Mike.”

All three of them broke into bad laughing fits at that one. Henry and Michael just exchanged an exasperated look as Michael stirred the spaghetti. “I can act like it if you really want me to,” Michael eventually said. “But I don’t think you’d like the response, seeing as you two are baby birds in this analogy.”

“What do you mean?” Gregory asked, bewildered.

“I think what he’s getting at,” Jeremy said, amusement glinting in his eye, “is that mother birds regurgitate food into their chicks mouths.”

“Ewwwww,” Gregory gagged.

Evan snorted. “Mikey wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Michael raised an eyebrow. “I’ve certainly done worse.”

Evan froze at that. He seemed to be considering Michael’s point. “He totally would…” Evan sounded horrified.

“And with that terrible mental image, it seems that the spaghetti is done!” Henry said, putting a can of Coke in front of Jeremy before going to fetch everyone plates.

“I just need to strain the noodles, and we’re all set,” Michael said. “Could you grab the strainer please?”

Henry nodded and retrieved the strainer. Evan hummed to himself as he fiddled with the two feathers he’d won in the card game. Gregory said nothing, but Jeremy could tell it he was still bitter from his loss. Surely Michael wouldn’t be unwilling to give up feathers if they asked, Jeremy thought to himself. Maybe he’d be uncomfortable with the idea, but if Gregory said how much he really wanted them, Jeremy was sure Michael would give in eventually.

“It’s going to be hot.” Michael warned, carrying the pot of spaghetti to the table.

Henry quickly placed a potholder beneath it, and Michael went back to retrieve the sauce for the spaghetti. “Do you want to get cups out, Evan?”

Evan nodded and got up from his spot. “Gregory, you can get the plates.”

The whole group cycled around the kitchen like a little family, and Jeremy felt a little self-conscious about his place in everything, so he went and grabbed forks for everyone. It was the least he could do.

Michael dished out the food, putting just enough sauce on their spaghetti that they could avoid it if they wanted to. All of them were a little skeptical of the meal, but they all trusted that Michael knew what he was doing. Gregory and Evan both seemed startled by the taste, but Henry simply raised an eyebrow as he took a bite. Michael didn’t seem particularly concerned about their reaction, though.

He was too busy observing Jeremy when he tried it.

It was… spicier than he expected. Jeremy glanced at Michael, suddenly suspicious of him. Michael blinked at him, casually taking a bite of his own spaghetti. Jeremy glanced at him again before moving his plate to the saucepan full of spaghetti sauce and adding more to his plate.

Michael’s slow smile made Jeremy feel even more confident about his decision. Somehow, Michael had figured him out yet again, almost without effort. Jeremy stuck another forkful in his mouth and smiled back at him.

“Gregory, slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick,” Evan said.

“It’f, fine.” Gregory swallowed hard.

“Careful you don’t choke,” Henry said warningly.

Gregory set his fork down quietly, his eyes watering. He coughed a little bit, causing Michael to turn to him with concern. “Gregory? Are you alright?”

Gregory fanned himself, and Jeremy immediately figured out what was going on. “Too spicy for you? You barely had any!” He shook his head and poured Gregory a glass of milk. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Gregory eagerly took the glass, draining it in less than a minute. “Mmmmm.”

The rest of the meal went in relative silence, with Evan and Henry occasionally teasing Gregory for eating too fast and being unable to handle spicy food. Michael seemed oblivious to the main conversation, smiling softly to himself.

Jeremy knew he was staring, but he figured it wouldn’t be the biggest deal. Plenty of people stared at their friends, right? At the way they twisted spaghetti noodles onto their forks and brought their forks to their mouths. At the way their eyes glowed with joy at making something new successfully.

Michael caught his eye, and the smile widened. Jeremy felt himself smiling back easily. He’d already finished his food, and Evan and Gregory had finished half the spaghetti by themselves. There wouldn’t be many leftovers anyway.

Henry was the first to move from the table. He collected plates from everyone to take to the sink. When Michael moved to help, Henry waved him off, insisting that since Michael made the meal, he shouldn’t have to clean it up, with a meaningful look toward Evan and Gregory. He stopped Jeremy when he tried to get up too, insisting that guests shouldn’t need to help.

“But I thought we were guests,” Gregory grumbled when Evan tapped his arm to help him get up.

“Jeremy, that bandage really does need to be changed before you go,” Henry said quietly, gathering the leftovers into different containers.

“I can help him with it,” Michael said.

“Michael, you’ve done enough today. Especially with how you were feeling this morning-“

“I can help,” Michael interjected stubbornly.

Jeremy raised a confused eyebrow at the way Michael’s wings and hair ruffled.

“You need rest,” Henry said in a tone that brokered no argument.

Still, Michael persisted, the feathers now completely refusing to lay flat. Jeremy wondered how this could possibly be something he’d need to be so defensive about. “Hey, maybe Henry’s right. You have done a lot today.”

Michael scowled at that, and he grabbed Jeremy’s arm and practically dragged him out of his chair.

“What- Hey!” Jeremy stumbled into Micheal, expecting him to apologize or something.

“There’s the old Mike,” Evan mumbled quietly.

Michael’s face was right in front of Jeremy’s as he spoke. “I know my limits.”

“Do you?” Gregory challenged. He didn’t seem frightened in the slightest, which was very different from the atmosphere surrounding Michael at that moment. “To me it seems like you keep going until you drop. Maybe you should just get rid of that chip on your shoulder and let someone else handle it for once!”

“Like you did?” Michael snapped, and at that, Gregory actually flinched. “Sometimes, you can’t trust that help will come, Gregory. You should know that better than anyone.”

Gregory’s grip on the plate in his hands tightened. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have a family who took care of me like you do! So just suck it up.” Jeremy heard tears behind those words, and Evan mumbled something gently to him and tried to get him to turn his back on Michael.

That seemed to break something in Michael’s resilience. His wings twitched, and he let go of Jeremy’s shirt. “Right. Sorry.” He sounded just as torn as Gregory. “I…”

Jeremy figured nothing would be helped by Michael sticking around in the kitchen, so he tentatively put a hand to Michael’s shoulder. “Hey, you can help with my bandage. Maybe just tell me how to put it on so I do it right tomorrow morning, yeah?”

“So you aren’t staying then?” Henry asked, looking worriedly between the four boys.

Michael’s ashen expression was not particularly reassuring. “No, I mean. If it’s okay for me to stay, I plan to. I just… Maybe it should be my responsibility to fix that?” Jeremy gestured at the scratch on his face. “Seems like all I’m doing here is making more messes anyway. Might as well try to clean one up myself, right?”

Henry frowned but he said nothing.

Jeremy leaned close to Michael’s ear. “Come on then.”

“I didn’t mean to… I hurt his feelings,” Michael mumbled as he mechanically peeled the rest of the bandage away from Jeremy’s face to wipe at the scratch with a wet cloth.

“Energy was running high. Maybe you are a bit more overwhelmed then you thought? Frayed nerves break way for anger sometimes. Or so I’ve heard.”

“I still shouldn’t have done that.” Michael couldn’t even look Jeremy in the eye. He was too distraught.

“Why did you get so defensive, if you don’t mind me asking? And I’m not just talking about Gregory. You were adamant about helping me with my bandage.”

“I just…” Michael hesitated. “I haven’t had a chance to see you in days, and I wanted to get every moment I could?”

“An afternoon together wasn’t enough?” Jeremy teased, even though he knew exactly how Michael was feeling. “Look, that’s okay, Mike. But you gotta take care of yourself too.”

“Yeah, but-“

“What do you want? I know you think you have to help everybody all the time, but you’ve gotta have desires too, right?”

“Maybe I don’t deserve to have my desires realized,” Michael replied. He still wasn’t looking at Jeremy. “Maybe I’m just a rotten person who doesn’t deserve joy or anything that doesn’t directly benefit anybody else.”

“Michael Afton.” Jeremy said, trying to sound stern. “You are a human being just like everyone else. We all make mistakes. And you sound like you’re trying to atone for yours. I don’t know about you, but someone who tries to learn from their mistakes sounds like someone who deserves to have what they want every now and again.”

Michael completely froze at that. When he met Jeremy’s eyes, he looked utterly shattered. “I…” He swallowed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s okay, Mike. No one is asking you to do everything-“

“No, you don’t understand.” His voice was hardly a whisper. “I’ve… That scolding… You’ve said that to me before.”

“I have?”

Michael nodded mutely. “It was right before…” His wings stretched their full length as Michael squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t.”

“What can’t you do, Michael?” Jeremy asked softly.

A pained noise rumbled in Michael’s throat, and he dropped the cloth, yanking Jeremy forward by his shirt. Their mouths crashed together, and all Jeremy could think was finally. His own hands went behind Michael’s shoulders, and he gently guided the wings back into a folded position before stroking them gently.

He didn’t want to stop kissing Michael. It was freeing and exhilarating at the same time. Michael tasted like bubble gum and smelled like clean laundry. He was the weirdest man Jeremy had ever met, but maybe that was what made him so alluring. Or maybe it was something else. Something about all this just seemed so… right.

When Michael broke away, Jeremy tried to follow. Michael looked at him fondly and laughed. “I thought you said I needed to take care of myself.”

“I can’t be that addicting,” Jeremy said impulsively.

Michael snorted. “I need air, Jeremy. We were both going to pass out if we kept that up.”

“Can we do it again?” Jeremy didn’t care about air. He just wanted to be close to Michael, wanted to make him smile, wanted to make him laugh.

Michael laughed again, a brilliant sound, before Jeremy pressed their lips back together. It was completely perfect.

[pinesfallll]

— dating stanford/stanley ! ✪

genre: soft + smut

characters: f! reader stanley pines + stanford pines (head cannons)

cw: not proofread, soft,smut, established relationship, all characters are 18+, MDNI

STANFORD PINES soft +nsfw hcs

- Ford as your partner would be so wholesome!!

- He's not the best at relationships considering you're his first, but he'll still try his best for you

- Would write you love letters

- He needs touches/ likes being touched etc, but his is subtle and more shy when you first started dating he'd do small things like hold ur hand wrap his hand around your waist. Laying his head on your lap/ shoulders

- He likes it when you compliment him and his work

- He 100% is good at baking/cooking, tell him your favorite meal and he'll cook it/learn it

- Matching science-y aprons

- his kisses will always start slow and passionate he likes the long soft kisses.

- He cant get enough

- he would 100% want to include you in his work/ adventures but sometimes he’ll have you watch from a distance because he's scared of something happening to you.

- play with his hair…yeah.

NSFW

- he can be soft when he wants to be

- Sometimes if he's too upset with his work..you're in for a treat

- He says he likes soft but you know deep down he LOVES being rough

- he wont admit it but something about being in control of your body gets him going

- he likes catching you off guard with how rough he can be

- I don't think he'd be into degrading but he definitely would praise you

- "good girl." "thats it sweetheart almost there.", "do you like it when I touch you there?","you're so

cute like this."

- Maybe a tini bit of humiliation and teasing

- he likes it when you ride him

- Big cockwarm fanatic omg he loves it

- When you first brought it up he was kinda confused about it but when the two of you tried it he wanted you to do it 24/7

- he just likes being close to you

- your chest is his favorite, he gets flustered when he touches them like it's his first time

- Grunts, gasps, praises your name allli the time He is quiet but when he close he gets loud

STANLEY PINES soft + nsfw hcs

- Stan as your partner, is very different compared to ford

- He can be charming, and kind but on the DL

-might seem like he doesnt care but he does sooo much

-super lovey dovey when hes needy for you

-"whats a'matter princesss?" "ya miss me?" "ya know you lovee me"

-will include you in his crimes

-he wont admit it but hes a sucker for when you kiss him he always wants more

-"aw c'mon thats its?!"

-he likes to hug you from behind and bury his head in ur neck.. if he's really needy he'll do some light kisses

-his type of love is more physical then words. he wont explicitly say your the love of his life and he would do anything for you but he'll get or do something to show it.

-takes you out on rides in el diablo

NSFW

-stan is ROUGH

-very rare of him to want to do it soft

-he loves pulling your hair

- call him sir (if ykyk)

-doggy is #1

-would degrade you

-"yeah? Feelin' good yet princess?"

-facefuckingggg

-if you want to ride him one day good luck cus he wont leave you alone

-"thats all you got?" "tsk your baddd at this."

-would do multiple rounds

-he would definitely smoke his cigarettes while he fucks you

thats all folks !! send some requests if u want :)

[mysicklove]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

DAY 14: LEG HUMPING

With: Ryomen Sukuna

Word Count: 4.4k (wow)

Warnings: Sub! Sukuna, Gn! Reader, Yuuji and reader r dating (Yuuji x reader), lots of threatening of death/small violent acts,, reader slaps him, sukuna has 2 cocks in his true form, heavy power dynamics, mention of subspace, previous cuffing, small mounts of blood

A/N: i feel like i wrote this while i was high, but i was sober. idk. this is unedited but i will edit it tomorrow morning

“I fucking hate you, you know that? Despise every cell of your body.”

You hold back a laugh, running your fingers through his hair, which earns another near animalistic growl. “Well aren't you dramatic, King of Curses. Where did my Yuuji go?”

Sukuna glares up at you, lips curling upward. He was kneeling, with his hands chained behind his back, while you sit on a chair, crossed legged. He was in the position Yuuji was in seconds ago. The position that Yuuji asked to be put in. Sukuna, obviously did not agree to this arrangement.

Yuuji must have lost control when he sank into the subspace. Just for a second, which was all the curse needed to arise. He was watching the entire time, snickering when Yuujis begs got too dramatic, or joining in on the unwelcomed degradation when the boy started to cry. 

But the only time the king was silent was when you spoke. He would conjur himself on Yuujis arm, face, hand, and just listen.

His vessel was a pervert, really, and you were too. He watched the boy go through the most humiliating things, and still he would always end up begging for more. The curse would rather die than to steep as low as Yuuji did. It was pathetic, truly. 

But sometimes, when Sukuna sticks around for too long, he finds himself hypnotized by your voice. It was always so soft with Yuuji, full of adoration, but he could not miss the authority that oozed from your tone. Strict rules that were meant to be followed, commands that were not dared questioned, and punishments that were no empty threats. He was there when Yuuji was also punished, in those rare times. They were not fun, even if the brat held a raging hard on through it all.

But overall, Sukuna was strangely enamored by your character. He was always top dog, the strongest, the king of curses, but what about you sends a shiver down his spine? Why does he want to hear your doting words? Not to Yuuji, but to him. 

Sukuna realized not long after having these thoughts that he wants to fuck you. Or maybe just get a handjob while you whisper lewd things in his ear, the way you did to the brat. Or maybe you'll wrap your lips around his dick if he was to play nice for a bit. 

It will be just a one time thing. Just so he knows for sure that he doesnt want you. Yuujis thoughts of you must be clouding his. Tonight he was here to confirm.

“Brats gone. You’ve broke him or something. Humans do that,” Sukuna pipes up, rolling his eyes, and glancing back at the cuffs he has on. He rips them off without hesitation, sending the metal falling to the ground.

Sukuna was lying. Yuuji barely was dipping into the subspace, and you know his limits well enough. Sukuna was out because he wants to be out with you. But alas, you want to see how far this will go, so you continue to play with him. A fake pout covers your face and you sigh. “Those were Yuujis favorite cuffs, was that necessary?” Not a lie. 

Sukuna dramatically stretches his hands out, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders. He still remains on his knees. “Annoying things. Not like they would work on me.”

“Yeah, because they weren't for you.”

He stares at you, flashing his teeth. “He could have broken out of them too.”

“But he wouldn't have. He is good.” Your foot presses on his thigh, where it was previously resting, and Sukuna raises an eyebrow at you. You were into this, he could tell. 

But he wasnt going to let you know, that he was also strangely intrigued as to what was going on right here. So, he rolls his eyes, and shifts under your foot, but doesn't move completely. “Doesnt fucking matter. Whatever. Brats pathetic.”

“He’s not. Dont be an ass,” You sigh, leaning back into your chair, and cracking a smile at the ceiling while you think about the scene that is about to unfold. Never would you have thought he would be coming to you. You always had small fantasies of fucking Sukuna, but you would never act on them, frankly because you knew that the curse wasnt interested. He was the one to nearly spit on the two of you during these times. But now, the cards were in his hands.

Sukuna’s hands creep onto your lower leg, and you try your best to ignore it. His nails gently scratch over your skin, and you dont dare to move. Instead, you let out a dramatic breath, and then press onto his thigh again. “Now what do I do…” You, very obviously, prompt, and Sukuna wants to roll his eyes.

“You want me to fuck you, that right?” He in turn teases, seeing if you will take the bait. The both of you are teetering on ice, waiting for eachothers next move.

To this, you lean forward, resting your arms on your knees so that you are face to face with the curse. He doesn't even flinch, just stares with an amused expression, while your fingers trail along his jaw. “But thats not what you want, is it?” You purr, face nearly inches from his. “And besides…Thought you hated me?”

He grins at you, smile borderline predatory. “I do. You make my vessel do disgusting things.”

“You watch us a lot, don't you Sukuna?”

He falters for a second, and then suddenly he feels your foot moves from his thigh, and toward his boxers. Yuuji was only wearing his black briefs when he was sent to Sukuna's domain. “Do you get off to it?”

The familiar glare replaces the smile, and his nails dig into your skin, harsh in warning, but not enough to draw blood. “As if. You two make me sick. You are corrupting the brat. You're disgusting.”

He can tell he is beginning to tick you off, but he does not mind, especially the way your foot slowly begins to press down on his cock. “Then why are you here Sukuna?”

“To fuck you,” He quips, rolling his eyes as if it was the obvious – he did already tell you this. The hand on your leg doesn't let up, and he hitches a breath when you step almost uncomfortably hard on him. A shiver runs down his spine, and he loathes the fact that maybe he is getting off to this.

“And why would I allow you to?”

But alas, his pride would never let up. “Allow me to? You think you can tell me what to do all of the sudden. I could kill you in a heartbeat.”

You roll your eyes at his bared teeth and the narrowed red eyes that are looking up toward you. “You are the one kneeling before me.” 

He doesn't move from his position and the two of you stare in silence. You restrain from voicing your approval, not wanting to piss the already tempermental curse off. 

Sukuna sighs and taps on the skin of your leg, signalling you to continue. “Get on with it. I want to see how gross your desires can be.”

“Will you be good for me and listen?”

“Is that what the boy does?”

You cock your head to the side, fighting the urge to furrow your eyebrows at him. “Yuuji? You know the answer to that question, you voyeur.”

The curse pinches at his brow, obviously peeved by your statement, and you cant help but giggle lightly at hin. “Not a voyeur. Just want…Whatever. Now for fucks sake, do something. Yes, yes I'll listen, do you want me to bark or some shit? I am not as pathetic and moldable as your other toy.”

The slap comes quick, sending a stinging sensation to his cheek, and Sukunas eyes nearly pop out of his head. He slowly brings his hands up to his face, touching the now pinkened skin, before turning to you. He didnt even have time to process it, or get angry about it, before you spoke. "Enough with the insults to Yuuji. Are you looking for some sort of attention?”

“Fuc-”

Another slap directly to the same spot, and Sukuna knows this time that he could have blocked it. You were a human, your attacks were slow, weak. But he didnt block. He let you do this. He was going mad, he had to be. 

His face stings, and your hand comes forward to grip at his jaw. He tries to hide a wince, but you watch him clench his teeth together. “Are you done?”

He had two choices in the matter. One to keep, willingly, Sukuna notes with much hesitancy, get slapped around, or he can get his dick possibly wet. He came for the latter, and so he will abide, even if it damaged his pride. He looks away, and that is the best answer you'll get. “Good. Well that was easy. Does your face hurt?”

Sukuna barks a laugh, and you raise your eyebrows. “Do you have any perception of how weak you are?”

You raise your hand up immediately to strike, and the curse flinches, preparing for what was to come next. But you just keep your hand there, eyes widening in glee, while Sukuna borderline growls. He doesn't say anything though, so you lower your hand, and rest it on his head. The act causes his whole body goes rigid, but he continues to remain silent.

“I want you to put your hands behind your back.” Your first command toward him, and Sukuna, as embarrassing as it is, feels his heart begin to pound. His mouth goes dry, and he slowly releases them from your leg and slides them behind him, his wrists crossing over. 

A playful smile pulls at your lips, and you lean over to him, ruffling up his hair as if he was some sort of dog to be pet. “Good little curse!”

Sukuna's heart pounds in his chest, and he begins to grow restless. His cock throbbed pathetically at the words, and he was embarrassed to admit that the praise felt nice. Different than the deranged pleasure he felt from the slap, and the harsh tone, but….Good overall. He nods with a scoff. “Yeah, yeah. Can you fucking hurry up.”

His hips gently buck into the pad of your sock, and you try your best to stay calm. He was liking it, all of it was so weird, but endearing, so you didnt move to stop him. “Are you getting frustrated, ‘kuna?”

The nickname has him catching his breath, and shifting on the pads of feet. The tone of your voice was sickenly sweet, and if he allowed himself to, Sukuna could melt into it. He tries to hold some of his dignity. “N-No,” He stutters out, and then curses under his breathe of how stupid he must sound. He quickly recuperates himself. “What do you want from me, you sick fuck?”

“Anything I want?”

“Don't hold your breath.”

You slowly remove your foot from his crotch, and the curse bites his tongue to hold back a complaint. He watches your eyes travel to the ceiling, lost in thought, before you turn back to him with a small grin. “Take your boxers off, and then put your hands back where they were. Exactly where they were.”

Sukuna was not shy, and neither were you, so he is quick to remove the article of clothing. Though of course this was Sukuna, so it was unnecessarily dramatic. He slices the thin fabric open with a single nail, and then throws the useless cloth away. Then he sighs when he looks down. “Of course the brat is small.”

Yuuji was many things, but small was definitely not one of them. He is well over the average size, and it was borderline intimidating. If Sukuna was calling Yuuji small then you didnt even want to know what the curse was carrying. “Small compared to your inhuman-freakish cock?”

“-s”

Your furrow you eyebrows and hum in question.

Sukunas grin is cocky, his body reeking of arrogance, even if he was the one kneeling. “You forgot the “s”. Cocks. Plural.”

Your face controrts to first shock, fear, and then finally lands on distain. “That's disgusting.”

“You say that now but when you are drooling on them later–” Another slap across the face, and Sukuna actually didn't see this one coming. It stuns him speechless for a moment, but then he shivers, cupping his cheek with one of his hands. His eyes flicker to you, but they don't hold any disdain in them – he simply just watches, curious of your next move.

He fails to notice the glob of precum that falls onto the floor after the slap. “Ah, are you leaking Sukuna? Does getting hit turn you on?”

It may be the pain, or may be the psychological aspect of it all. If he says something wrong, he gets punished, and for some reason or another, that drives him insane with desire. He gulps, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. “Of course not. I am not the pervert here.”

“But I bet I could make you do some perverted things.”

His cock, as humiliating as it is, likes the sound of that. It noticeably twitches, and he hopes that more pre doesn't slip out before starting anything. His hands shift from behind his back, but he doesnt dare to move them. “Yeah? How far does your twisted mind go?”

“Far. But I dont want to scare you off too badly tonight,” You sigh, leaning back comfortably in your chair. Sukuna holds off a growl, peeved at how you worded the statement. “Guess you can just hump my leg.”

He laughs, loud and proudly, but your smile withstands. You rest your cheek on your palm, and you wait for the booming laugh to die down. It does, not after long, and slowly when he realizes that you arent joking, the curse glares as you. “Oh fuck off. I told you I am not to be your dog.”

You sigh, and stand up from your chair. “Guess we will end here for the night then. Send Yuuji back when he is well rested.”

A clawed hand wraps around your leg, and Sukuna bares his teeth at you. “Fine. I'll do it. Would you stop being so dramatic?” He gets out through clenched teeth.

You nod and sit back down in your chair, kicking your leg out. Sukuna eyes it, as if unsure of what to do. “Mount it,” You encourage, shaking your limb ever so gently.

“I know how to, you fucking idiot,” He bites, and then slowly uses his knees to push himself forward. His red eyes lock onto yours, and he stares at you the entire time as he straddles you. Your foot rests beneath his body, and his cock barely grazes your lower knee. One hand rests on the back of your leg for security, and the other onto the edge of your chair.

You gulp, and move your leg upward, pinning his cock in between his stomach and the skin of your leg. The curse doesnt dare to move, and he holds a wince when he glances at the glob that drips from his tip and smears onto your leg. A token sign that he is unbelievably turned on. “Drooling over me already? I'm flattered.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Bite your tongue before I rip it off.” 

You don't even flinch at the threat, instead applying more force upward, making the curse curl inward on himself as he tries to lift his hips upward, away from the foot. “Get on with it,” You command, leaving no room for complaints. 

His eyes flicker toward you when he hears the strictness in your tone, and he blinks when you glare at him. He gulps, ignoring the pleasant shiver that runs down his spine. But he doesn't dwell on it, because you lower your leg again, and he is free to move. His hands feel strangely shaky, but he hides it well, not wanting to know how much power, Sukuna is discovering quickly, you have over him. 

He lines his cock to the middle of your leg, and thrusts forward without much hesitancy. The skin is soft, and it glides over with little resistance, and Sukuna’s eyes are glued to the spot. 

Its strange, not as pleasurable like all the previous women he has fucked, nor a warm throat, but for some reason or another, it sends his head spinning.

His hips retreat, and they push themselves upward against the plush of your leg. Eventually he falls into a steady motion, entranced by his actions. It's pathetic, and gross, but why did it feel so good? A leg shouldnt be pleasurable –  it doesnt wrap around his cock like he wants it to, but it is strangely addicting. 

He realizes quickly why it feels that way – Sukuna is no idiot. He likes the psychological part behind it. He likes that he is kneeling for you, and getting off to something so measly as this. It makes him feel gross compared to you – nothing more than skum, and you, must be some sort of god. It turns him on so much he can barely stand it.

His head falls forward, and it taps onto your thigh. His whole body seems to tremble, and the timing of his thrusts seems to pick up – they are quicker, frantic, and his cock nearly slides off more than it should. 

Your fingers fall to his head, and this time he doesnt move, in fact he seems to melt into the touch. This was weird, and you were both intrigued, and slightly scared. “You really seem to be liking this, huh?”

He doesn't respond for a long second, maneuvering his fingers to hold onto the back of your  leg with his thumbs left in front of the limp. It provides a makeshift “O” and finally the curse feels like he is actually fucking something, rather than just grinding. “There ya go,” He mumbles to himself, as if lost in a trance. His cock slides itself between your leg and his thumbs, and its driving him insane.

When he doesnt respond, you tug backward on his hair, forcing him to look up at you. To your surprise, he doesnt glare at you, nor let out a biting remark; instead, the curse moans. Its low, and holds a sort of vibration to it, but definitely there. “Oh you fucking freak.”

He lets out a lazy grin, neck uncomfortably craned upward. You watch the way he licks at his teeth, and he breathes out, “More.”

You press your leg deeper into him, and Sukuna in response lets out another gutteral moan, except this one holds a whine to it. The sound travels straight to your groin, and you sit up in your chair, eyes slightly widening. “What changed, king? Dont tell me your getting off to grinding against a mere human peasant like me?”

He lets out a small, breahthless laugh, but doesnt dare stop his motions. “Just this once. Just this once let me, and th-then I swear you are dead.”

Your leg is glistening in some small areas, from when he leaked and spread it into the skin with his tip. He stares at your face the entirety of it, even when you look away to glance at his cock. “But ‘kuna, whose leg will you frot against if you kill me? Aw dont tell me, youll find another to cling to. Y’know I am the only one who can take care of you.”

You drop his head and he goes back to resting his forehead on your knee. His pants are warm against your leg, and you feel him shake his head.

You are right of course. He would never dare show another this side of him to another. He doesnt want to either, even if he never would admit it outloud. “J-Just stop it. Please.”

Please was not in the king of curses vocabulary. Your eyes widen with glee. “How much do you like it? Tell me, does my leg feel good?”

“Does. Fuck. Fuck, I hate you. I hate you.” He nods his head into your leg, hiding his face. His body turns a shade similar to his hair, and it begins to glisten with sweat from his movements. He lets out small breathless moans, and stares at the tip moving up and down the fake color.

His body seems to curl around you your limb, as if trying to trap it in his hold. His lips, much to your surprise, press themselves to your knee and you can hear the smallest chant.  “Love it. ‘S mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

You raise your eyebrows at the deranged, borderline creepy words.  “So you hate me, but love my leg? Don't tell me you got some strange fetish.”

You feel his canines hover over the space just above your knee, a small warning from the curse. You blink at him, surprised by the small resistance, but dont do much. He licks at the flesh a second later, and pulls away. You have to bite back a laugh.

His hands by this point have dropped, and are instead clawing at your chair. He doesnt need them anymore, considering that he is so close to you that that his stomach and your leg are stimulating him on both sides.

“Fuck. I'm close,” Sukuna mumbles into your skin, pressing himself impossibly closer. You wish you had your phone to take a picture – he was basically cradling your leg as if it was some sort of prized possession.

“Are you asking me for permission?”

“N-No. ‘m not. Can I?” He paws at your thighs, nails threatening to dig into your skin. Of course he would never, at least not in this meager state.

“No.”

He bares his teeth at you and glares, but his eyes convey his true feeling: panicked. His pace doesn't slow though, and your leg is now sticky from the amount of precum lost. “I-Im going to whether you like it or not. Fuck. Fuck you. I hate you. Ngh, can you just–just agree!”

His mouth is back onto your knee, sending it sloppy kisses, and small bites. His tip is pulsing red, and it begins to throb. His legs were beginning to tremble, and he tries to focus on not cumming. For some unknown reason, Sukuna wants you to allow him to.

“But you were a brat all day? Boys who threaten death, dont deserve certain privileges,” You hum, and then run your fingers through his hair. “But I am a mere human, and you the king of curses. Why would you listen to my commands?” 

Sukuna bites his lip, immediately tearing blood. It dribbles down his chin, but he is quick to wipe it off, and reheal himself. His brows furrow and he scowls at the floor. The only noises let out are the grunts of his movements, and the moans that seem to get higher in pitch with each coming second. 

He is lost in thought. The curse doesnt understand why he wants permission, but he needs it. He cant cum without it, it was bound to dissapoint you if he did. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, and finally, the pathetic words that he has been thinking this entire night come spilling out. “Cause I want you to! Command me, give me orders, do something to me. J-Just I–fuck! I need it!” 

“Why?”

He was growing frustrated and more panicked as the seconds go by. He was moments from cumming. “Because I–I ngh–Want to please you! Would you just fucking…” He warbles, praying that tears don't come. “Let me cum. I beg you. Let me. I'll do anything.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, and blood flows to your crotch. His watery eyes blink up at you, and he continues to rut against you, like some sort of dog. But thats what he is, or seems to want to be. So, you cock your head to the side, and provide him with a lazy grin. “Go ahead, Fido.”

His red eyes seem to light up at the approval, and he nods to himself as if bewildered by your agreement. But, he does follow through with the plea, and suddenly he is cumming. His whole body trembles, and he holds onto your leg with such force that you have to slide your hands on to of his, in a slight warning to be gentle. Cum shoots out onto your leg, but you can barely see it, considering his body has caved in on himself. He continues to rub himself out even through it all, as he pants into your knee. The curse wears a lazy grin through it all, and lets out small high in pitch moans. 

He collapses backward, landing on his ass and panting to catch his breath. You glance away for a second, at most two, to look at the cum stained on your leg. A chuckle falls from your lips. 

When Sukuna recovers, he goes straight back to scowling at you. In a heartbeat, he stands over you, borderline growling at you. His nails dig into your shoulders, and your eyes widen at the quickness of it all. Then he leans forward, a near inch away from your ear he whispers, “Don't get your hopes up. This will never happen again. Do you hear me?”

His nail presses uncomfortably hard into your skin, and so you are forced to nod. And with that your vision goes black.

For the next two weeks, Sukuna doesnt conjure up on Yuujis body anytime you are around. You dont mind it too much – it did save you from bickering with the arrogant prick. But to be honest, you were a little disappointed, having call his bluff. 

You werent disappointed for long.

Low and behold, two weeks later from the incident, you find yourself faced to face with the King of Curses, who was already kneeling before you. 

He glares at you, teeth on full display, as if he didnt realize what position he has put you guys in. “If you mention this to anyone, I will tear you to shreds.” Is all that he says.

But you arent too picky. So you grin, and hold your leg out.

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[rafesslxt]

slytherin boy‘s | how they get turned on

headcanon - this is my opinion, you do not have to agree with what i write

contains: mattheo riddle, theodore nott, draco malfoy, enzo bershire

— Mattheo Riddle —

everywhere and any time!! The list is long!

when you two are in class and you start concentrating so you slightly chew on the end of your pencil

when you smile and laugh - he would be so happy when you are carefree

when you wear his favorite color. Underwear or normal clothes, it doesnt matter. It makes you look so good in his eyes that he just wants to rip them off

when you get mad - damn, espacially when you talk in your native language

when you wouldn‘t talk to him so he would try and apologize while slowly kissing up and down your neck and shoulders

when you sat on his lap when no seats would be available. You all sat down in the train to hogwarts and as your friends saw that there was no space for you they started to scoop togethet but you would just let your ass fall down on mattheo‘s lap, smiling innocently at him

when you got turned on somehow while the two of you would stand seperated at a party, talking to your friends and he could see your desperate gaze at him

when you got drunk – he would never do anything with you under the influence but still he would get turned on on your loose tounge and words plus your touchy hands

when you do something sexy but smile innocently. Like you would bend over in class when he sat behind you, picking something up and then look over your shoulder back to him, smiling. Or you would make a ponytail, taking your time with it and again – smiling at him innocently, reminding him of how you got ready before –

when you got jealous. It wasn‘t just the fact that you got mad and that alone already turned him on, but he felt how much he meant to you and that he‘s important to you making him go even more ferral

when you took control – he was alway used to do things on his own, being tense all the time so when you did he felt so under your control it turned him on – especially in the bedroom

when you got into a fight with someone talking shit about him being the son of voldemort so you would come back with a bloody nose knocking on his door – just the tought of you hitting someone for him

— Theodore Nott —

when you talked to him a lot or read to him so he could stare at your soft plump lips moving

when you‘d come back from some sort of training, all sort of sweaty, out of breath and red face - got him going crazy

when you corrected him. The two of you would study together and after already staring at your lips he would raise his eyebrows at you correcting him. "oh so you‘re all smart and all shit now yeah? Let‘s see what you can use your smart mouth else for."

you touching him softly so he would get goosebumps all over his body

when you wear his clothes – especially after waking up and you just wearing his way too big shirts with only underwear under it but also when you would wear his hoodies on the weekends so everyone could see you‘re his

— Draco Malfoy —

when you wear his initials on a necklace he bought you or on your ring so everyone could see you belong to him

when you are confident in your own skin, chin always up. Showing everyone not to mess with you – he would be so proud too

when you would whisper gossip in his ear but not because of the gossip but because of the whispering and your hot breath on his ear

he always felt touch starved even If he‘s not so any kind of touching him would turn him on. Even something like you two laughing and joking and you touching his arm

— Enzo Berkshire —

to me he is the most shy of the group I‘m sorry ya‘ll i know there is a lot discussion about it

when he hears you ask him If you can be on top, riding him. His breathing would get heavier at the tought

generally when you are more dom and he‘s more sub – it would turn him on so much seeing you in control of hin

when you get touchy in front of his friends on a night out, party or just a little gathering – his cheeks would flame up so badly but at the same time it feels like a forbidden fruit to him in front of people

when you massage his scalp – he would get goosebumps all over his body and bite his lip while trying to control himself – failing of course

when you come back from some kind of training too like Theodore but also If he watches you and hears you groan in frustration – voice kink

when you kiss him – yes, so that‘s often. And no matter where you two are also.. in class, with his friends, his or your family

when you do things like grabbing his shirt to pull him in to kiss him, whispering and nibbling his ear, getting him flustered on porpuse with saying dirty things in his ear while friends are around

but also If you let him take completly control of you all tied up giving you to him

thanks for reading 🫶🏻

xoxo sarah <3

[firstofficerkittycat]

yeag :]

Me: pon farr hurt/comfort is so superior.....it's not sexy at all it's just exhausting and loving and pls help me and I'm gonna take care of u and let me help

Also me: this is how babygirl empties out

[xhanelia]

Hi, I hope you’ve been having a good day! Can I please request a Sova that goes absolutely feral when you pull on his hair during sex... like he's a whole new man when you do that. The thought has been invading my brain and it won't leave hdjwkkdkd

-Sova lover anon

Ngl at all i be giggling and kicking my feet even thinking about this 👉👈 Thanks so much for waiting for me and i hope i do not dissapoint. Love uuuu <333

<<<Reader is she/her. MDNI.>>>

Im lost with words iykyk with Sova (nsfw)

It always starts slow and affectionate with Sova. We know him. He knows himself too. He knows that he is a little bit of an overgrown man (190ish cm long like holly shit boy what did your babushka feed you?) and he doesnt want to overwhelm you with himself.

But if you press his buttons, yeah, he switches a bit fast.

When he gets the 'fuck me hard' signal from you he doesnt care. You are under him now.

For him, its his hair getting pulled by you. Its like a wordless signal between both of you. Does the job perfectly so why need to ask for it, right?

The second you grab a handfull of his beautiful long blonde hair and pull it, he growls from the very deep of his throat. His body lovering over you for you to feel his weight on you more. Mhm. He got what you want for sure.

"You want to do it my way, darling?" The russian accent with the word 'darling' sounds deep near your ear. You know our giant bear. He gotta make sure even if he is too much over to control himself.

His moves are much over and about controlling you and your body. He is playing with your buttons too but mostly like a 'dim red light sex at midnight' kinda sex iykwim. He is rough but not ROUGH rough. Just the perfect amount to make you squirm under his body.

He can overpower you so easily he cannot lie that this doesnt turn him on. Pulling you in, stretching your legs, lifting you up and everything. And the sounds you make for him while he does these things? He could listen to you all night long. (Thats totaly not the reason he likes long sessions with you.)

This man has the highest stamina in the protocole if it wasnt for kay/o. He climbs up an down on snow for a daily basis. He is not letting you go anywhere if you dont use the safe word and make him stop yourself. If you know how to tire him then its another story.

You swear the first time you two get close like this, you thought that he had no experience whatsoever but now you realize you are so damn wrong. He may not look like he has experience but its all because he wants to make you feel alright and safe in his hands. But if you want to give the control all into his hands, then he will gladly take it from yours.

Kisses, hickeys, bite marks all over your body. Did i mention he has no shame? I guess i did on another one of my posts. I will say it again. He has no shame. He will look proud if anyone notices the hickeys he left over you. They gotta know that he knows how to do his job.

If you were to ask him about how he likes being in charge, he will laugh and just say a simple "yes, i do". Maybe his cheeks will get a little red but not because of embarrassment, its because of he lies how much more he likes it. This man LIVES for these moments.

(I wish i had a Sova for myself 😔)

[moonphaseswrites]

andre nikto headcanons!!

based off of a few canon things but most go based off the harsh exterior the series give

just a few, may continue on another day...

sfw

ive heard people headcanon him having did, and i know in canon that he has acute dissociation disorder, that his voices are really just alters. he just refuses to acknowledge their names or that they each have their own personalities and names they prefer to be called to differ between them. absolutely despises it when his lover tries bringing that theory up, or when he 'blacks out', which usually is just an alter taking his place for a while, sometimes itll be one that likes them and will cuddle in bed.

hes constantly muttering to himself throughout the day, whether thats telling his 'voices' to shut up or occasionally repeating a few words from conversations he has been in or that he just happened to over hear. it ranges from curses to dumb phrases he may not understand.

under the mask and eyeblack, along with the harsh disfigurements along his face, there are several old scars that run down from above his eyebrows all the way down to the bottom of his crooked, fucked up nose. its a pain in the ass to make the eyeblack stick and not come off too much, but theyre healed enough that its not an absolute pain to do.

due to his 'voices', he has chronic insomnia from all of the obnoxious chitter chatter he constantly hears in his head. he almost never gets the peaceful silence that he craves, this is connected to the reason why he constantly tries making his team shut up whenever interacting isnt important and why he hides away in his own barracks when able to. although, occasionally he will appreciate his partner talking in whatever language they please, not usually even paying too much focus onto their word usage. the same with krugers annoying use of english and german towards him, the austrians attempt at making sure the russian is still domesticated and not feral, keeping him in the loop if he accidentally hides away for a few days after a long hard mission.

he does canonically have a normal usage of "we" and "us", usually when the 'voices' are constantly nagging and bitching about being included in onto his conversations instead of him trying to pretend they dont exist. because of them trying to be involved in his daily life, he sometimes will directly mention them to people, talking about "them", "the voices", and "useless chatter boxes". if his partner refers to him in a plural sense, like lovers or beloveds, he just fucking melts, unused to people mimicking his plural usage in a non mocking way.

nsfw (under the cut line)

he is an absolutely ruthless top, the type to overstimulate you to the point you quite literally pass out underneath his touch. he isnt at all gentle with it either, any whines or begs are returned with "you can take it", "shh.. shh... relax, precious, just a bit more..", or some russian phrases you cant even decipher at this point, hardly even recognizing them.

aftercare is sometimes rare. yes, its still there, but he will either tell you that youre on your own or just straight up walk out on you, just because everything going on his head is just becoming way too overwhelming. like all he can hear in the moment are screams from his alters all trying to tell him what they are wanting and some of said screams are coming from ptsd of different missions and places. it sometimes hits him like a brick.

when he can and does give aftercare, its usually in the form of a quick wipe down, head to toe, cleaning any drool or over substances off of your body. as little as he could care about getting things dirty, its something that he doesnt really have to talk throughout or do too much touching. yeah, hes not big on much physical touch, but its better than trying to bathe with you.

he definitely loves receiving head, being in full control, doing just about every little thing he wants?

knife play. loves digging his knife into you, carving his initials in you... oh no, not in english. no no. hes carving his russian initials into you. right on your inner thigh, constantly telling you to relax and to quit squirming. well, thats when hes spekaing, most responses are him squeezing your other thigh in warning with an occasional russian demand.

loves ramming you into the bedding. just washed the sheets and/or made the bed? too bad, its going to be messy and dirty when hes finished with you. biting into any bits of skin he could reach with his mouth. ignore the gaps in his bites from where a few teeth are missing from back when he was being tortured, a few are gone from battle, but he doesnt mind, anymore that is. just bite into the pillow and enjoy his harsh thrusts.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Now I'm imagining a courtnapping sequence with Wukong and Macaque. Like... for soem reason I get the feeling it'd be Wukong who gets kidnapped in one of these? Tbw Great Sage Equal to Heaven would be a very tempting potential mate and it's not like her and Macaque were very public before.

Well. It's about to become VERY public when a very young Macaque goes full jaiju for the first time in an attempt to save Wukong and reverse courtnapping him. The reason Wukong couldn't fight back was because he was young, arrogant, and drugged. This was during the Journey, but Wukong doesn't remember it happening due to the fact he was knocked out for the majority of the time.

Years later, DBK tells the story to a very embarrassed MK who throught the way he acted when Redson was taken was unbecoming of the Monkey King's successor. He'd heard it from Tieshan, who heard it from Macaque.

Prev.

When MK finally snaps out of his feral state, he's apologetic af. He comes to in his apartment, his whole sleeping area turned into a makeshift nest, and wrapped around Red Son like he's a body pillow.

MK, nearly jumping to his feet: "OHMYGOSH! RED SON, I AM SO SORRY!!!" Red Son, chilling: "What for?" MK: "Didn't I like-!? Demon kidnap you!?" Red Son: "Yes, and you reverse-courtnapped me from that despicable mara. You have my gratitude... and my unending loyalty." MK, not understanding: "Wut?" Red Son, disappointed sigh: "You don't even know what courtnapping even means do you?" MK, quickly hides phone: "Maaaaybe... maybe I knew about it, and sorta forgot when I thought that guy was gonna hurt you...?" Red Son, moves to get out of bed: "I should have know..." MK: "Does this mean we're like, dating and stuff? Cus Pigsy says Tang did this to himself before they got married." Red Son: (*chokes on air, flames briefly flicker pink*)

Even if MK seems to be oblivious to the situation... it's more that he's genuinely happy but unsure if Red even thinks of him "that way". He doesnt want to rock the boat, especially in case Red is only sticking around cus of the Egg.

Mei, look of disbelief: "You're having a baby together, bro." MK, drinking cheese tea: "Yeah. But like, as friends." Mei: (*looks at her livestream audience like she's on The Office*)

MK of course apologises to DBK and PIF; bringing Wukong to vouch for him. The Monkie Kid is disappointed in himself for losing his self-control in that moment, pregnancy hormones or not. But all the adults look... amused?

DBK, fond chuckle: "This all reminds me of a certain sneaky simian, who rushed to reclaim what he thought was rightfully his King." PIF, smiling with a hum: "A simian who nearly stopped the Pilgrims' Journey in its tracks because he believed they were keeping his mate from him." MK: "Wait. Do you mean-?" Macaque, popping out of the shadows: "I know you ain't gossiping about me, sis!"

The demon bull couple proceed to dunk on Macaque for the next hour; regaling MK and Red Son with stories of how often Macaque would fly off the handle at any perceived rivals for Wukong's affections.

Turns out MK isn't the most possessive of the monkeys! XD

Wukong: "How come I don't remember that story?" PIF: "I'm not surprised. Your suitor had drugged you. It was during your Journey, and though you were not on best of terms; Macaque felt it necessary to save you from a dishonourable courtnapping. I assumed he already told you." Wukong, amazed: "Really, plums?" Macaque, blushing and hiding face in scarf: "Is' no big deal." DBK, bellowing laughter: "HAHA! No big deal?! You transformed into your Smoke-giant form and tore that demon to shreds! I'm surprised that you had the sense to return him to his Pilgrim brethren afterwards." (*Macaque sinks deeper into scarf as DBK and PIF laugh. Wukong smiles at him with a newfound appreciation. MK feels a little offended hearing that his actions reminded them all of Macaque.*)

Note: if a similar courtnapping of Wukong were to occur in the modern day; Macaque would still show the same level of ferocity. He'd just have backup in the form of adoptive-cub MK wanting his mentor back.

Pigsy can't say anything about how MK busted out his Kaiju-form out of jealousy. Lets just say a certain scholar got hit-on at a bar once, and they came face-to-face with a giant snorting boar demon glaring them down. Tang brags about the incident to this day. ("It was hot.")

[chrolloluvr]

Hello! Can I ask for general relationship headcannons with Mammon from helluva? I know he's toxic but I just love this bastard and his australian accent lol.

General Mammon SFW Relationship Hcs pt.1

Note: YESS TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!! I love this dude idc what anybody thinks, also i might do a pt2 if this gets enough traction!! This is also a Female!reader, but if you squint it can be Genderneutral!reader

Warnings: Some cussing, use of pet names, some creepy behavior 💀

Starting off, Mammon would probably love to show you off. At his clown pageants, royal meetings, and basically anywhere important. If he's going somewhere, you will most likely be there, with his hand on one of your hips, or carrying you on his shoulder. However he won't let anybody get to know you, or even get their grubby hands near your precious body. Most of his fans speculate that if they see you somewhere, Mammon is always somewhere near you, or he at least has his servants follow you. I also imagine he also brings you to interviews.

He just loves to talk his head off about you. When it comes to his little lady, he just can't keep his mouth shut. I swear this man will be talking to Beelzebub or one of his business partners, and be like “Yeah that's nice and all dickhead, but Y/N is better at that by a long shot.” HE WILL BRING YOU UP AT THE MOST RANDOM TIMES! He will also twist his words in a way that involves you.

Loves and lives to buy you things. He feels obligated to get you luxurious items, even if you don't want them or feel bad. He knows he's one of, if not the most wealthy man in hell, so just let him spoil you, because he won't take no for an answer. If you don't like something he buys you, he won't be mad at you, but the people who made it. You're his pride and joy, so anything he buys you is very luxurious and one of a kind. When you go out to events with him, the press and 666 news will go crazy over the latest new necklace he bought you. If you just look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, he will move heaven and hell for you.

He knows your weakness is his boisterous voice. He notices every detail about you, including the way your knees lock and your demeanor softens when he does that deep, Australian accent. He likes to grab your cheeks, and say in a low husky voice how you're so cute babe, my perfect little woman. Or when he calls you or leaves voicemails, he will talk innocently about something, but you never fail to take his voice and imagine it in, well, other ways.

I feel like Mammon would give you nicknames all the time. He rarely calls you buy your real name, unless hes upset, but he is never truly upset with you. He will call you babe most of the time, misses, my little lady, sweetheart, princess, my queen, woman, babycakes, and my little money maker (sometimes). He will call you these things, but also when he wants something from you like a warm hug, or to rub his shoulders, or to bring him his morning breakfast. He doesnt call you by your real name often, because he thinks its too serious, and in his eyes, you arent serious,you are just his little innocent woman, oblivious to the dangerous underworld.

There is an obvious power imbalance between the two of you. There's Mammon, a powerful deadly sin, the king of greed, and loved by billions of demons. And then there's you, a lowly demon/sinner who in his eyes, can barely do anything by yourself, hell, you need him to open a nutella jar for christ sake. He thinks of himself as your big strong protector, and also your king who you should bow down to, who you should be thankful for, because millions and millions of girls would die to be in your position.

When you two date, he want complete control over your life. Your social media, friends, people you talk to, family, etc. He most likely implanted a tracker somewhere on your body while you were sleeping. He controls all your socials, and most likely put “Account ran by the handsome king of greed” im your Sinstagram bio 😭. He also deleted any hate comments. One time somebody put “Miss girl is getting that little dick every night” And he got so butthurt, so he blocked them and personally killed them. He also wants you to stay innocent.

He loves to touch you. whether it be groping you, or slowly dragging his gloved fingers over your skin. He does not care about your size too, whether you are chubby or skinny, he loves you for you and that only applies to you. It does not matter how big or small your boobs are, he will guaranteed grab them atleast twice every day randomly. His favorite part of your body is most likely your belly and your boobs. But he loves everything about you, dont get me wrong.

He will never, and I mean never, let you down. He wants to see your pretty smile. If your going on a flight? First class. A show? Front row. You two are staying at a hotel? Presidential suite. He has you covered. Hes the sin of greed for crying out loud. He uses his status to get you the best of the best. If he sees you upset, he is upset at the people around him, and throws a big temper tantrum. In his eyes, he always needs to be the person to make you happy. If he ever sees you laughing at another mans corny jokes, he makes a mental note to personally handle them, and show them that he is your man, not some low class, vile excuse of a man.

[hypnostouched]

Thinking about James and the Collar again

I do agree with people that it doesnt work exactly the way James and Will thought it did, however I do think it would be very anticlimactic if it just. didn't actually do a lot, negatively, after James has spent two entire books being terrified of it. Narratively, the Collar has to be important and it clearly has changed James; even if hes not the mindless toy that he assumed he might be.

But ive also been thinking about - if indeed peoples theories about Anharion siding with Sarcean before the Collar was put on him are correct - why the Collar would exist at all. And it makes me think of what Sarcean was accused of.

Sarcean was accused of ensorcelling the Sun King; or attempting to. But even if Sarcean wasn't at the height of his power yet - he wouldn't have failed. His two powers, according to Kettering, are control and death, so yeah of course accusing him of controlling the King makes sense but what doesn't make sense to me is that Sarcean would have attempted it and failed. Now clearly Sarcean had been intending on getting caught at some point, because he needed to get into the oubliette, but he did seem bemused that it was happening when it was so he wasn't actively planning all the details of it - he knew he was being trapped and went willingly, but he didn't actually put this into motion directly. If Sarcean wanted to control the Sun King, then the Sun King would be controlled. I think the accusation was false.

I also think, that very often in political issues, false accusations are oftentimes a redirect. The accuser is often guilty of the crimes they claim others have committed. I wonder, then, if the Sun King had Anharion under some form of control and the Collar was made to negate that.

There's a lot of talk regarding consent around Will and Sarcean's abilities. Will and Sinclair are only able to control those who have been branded and the interesting thing is that all those Sinclair had branded had been willing. They'd not understood the extent of what they were agreeing to, but it didn't seem like it was forced on people. Will repeatedly thinks that he didn't force people to follow him like Sarcean did, the entire everything about James and the Collar, the Lady telling Sarcean that people wouldn't follow him if they knew him, the Returners stealing bodies. Consent and free will are very key topics.

And while I don't entirely believe this idea that Sarcean was faultless, I do think a lot of what we know about him has been skewed by the Light over time - I do think Sarcean is far more grey than believed. Sarcean doesn't seem to be able to control people without the Brand, to the point where the branding rod is the symbol of his power. If, like Sinclair's version, most of these Branded followers take it willingly, then for Sarcean to rob Anharion of his free will entirely seems off.

So yeah I am of the mind that the Sun King was playing at his own control and had some power over Anharion that Sarcean sought to break. Perhaps it couldn't be removed, but instead replaced.

[auras-moonstone]

Hii! Could you please write an ethan fic based off the ybwm music video but y/n and ethan are childhood bestfriends and but doesnt notice her until prom? ALSO IM LISTENING TO 1989 TV RN AND ITS SOOOO GOOD

been here all along — ethan landry

word count: 3,306

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: ethan and y/n had been best friends since they were little, but y/n, unbeknownst to ethan, has always been i love with him. it isn’t until prom night that he finds out.

warnings: none!

Y/N WAS STUDYING ON HER DESK WHEN SHE SAW HER BEST FRIEND’S SILHOUETTE THROUGH HER WINDOW. Ethan threw himself to the bed, lying on his back as he tiredly rubbed his face with the hand that wasn’t holding his phone to his ear. He felt eyes on him, so he turned around and saw the girl staring at him with a worried expression. He smiled instantly and, after hanging up the phone, he went to grab a small board and a marker.

hey, creep, he showed her the careless handwriting with a smirk.

Y/N stuck her tongue out before grabbing her own board. you okay?

i’m fine, he replied with a shrug and a forced smile.

Y/N arched an eyebrow, i know you better than that.

His shoulders slumped, can i hang out with you for a while?

always. back door is open!

Less than five minutes later Ethan entered her room and plopped down on her bed, resting his head on his hand. Y/N noticed his eyes were a bit red and had dark bags under them, and yet he continued to be he most gorgeous human she had laid her eyes on.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly, resisting the need to run her fingers through his wet brown hair.

“Coach killed us at practice today. My whole body hurts.” he mumbled.

“And…” she urged him to go on, knowing that was not it.

Ethan sighed. “I hate that you know me so well.” he groaned. “I fought with Mila.”

“Again.” she added, trying to hide her bitterness.

Mila and him had been dating for a couple of months, and she had managed to turn the ray of sunshine that Ethan used to be into a person who was always tired and in a gloomy mood. She had completely brought him down.

People at school loved the couple. And, on the outside, they seemed perfect. Ethan was the captain of the hockey team and the most good-looking boy at school, and Mila was the cheer captain and most good-looking girl at school—perfect pairing, right? On paper, yes.

But Y/N had the disgrace of witnessing most of their fights and the toxicity that filled the air whenever they were together. At the beginning, they had a normal relationship but eventually, the attention got the best of Mila and she turned into a controlling, jealous girlfriend who was also obsessed with painting the perfect image.

“Yeah… this time it was about prom.” he scoffed.

“What about it?”

“She came to practice and said we had to go buy her dress and my suit. Then she wants me to take fucking dancing classes because everything needs to be perfect and I can’t mess it up with my dance moves.”

“She’s going to have to buy tons of oil bottles for that. The Tin Man from Wizards of Oz can move better than you.”

Ethan laughed and threw her a pillow. “You’re such an asshole.”

Y/N smiled like the Cheshire cat. Ethan had no idea that his smile could practically light up the whole town, and it made her furious that Mila managed to take that away. Ever since they started dating, Ethan very rarely smiled around others.

“Anyways, the thing is I refused to do that. You know how tired I am after practice, and she got pissed and wouldn’t let me leave. I ended up holding back hockey practice and coach was furious.” he explained. “Then, after practice, she called and silly me thought—nice, she is going to apologize, but no. She wanted to see if I’d changed my mind. And that made me mad, so we started fighting about her interrupting practice and how furious she would be if I were to find her during cheer practice. Then she started yelling and I just hung up because my head fucking hurts.”

Y/N watched with sad eyes. What was he doing with a girl like that? She clearly didn’t care about him. “I’m sorry about your psycho of a girlfriend. You deserve better” she said, and he gave her a small smile. “There’s Tylenol on my drawer and the bottle is filled with water.”

“Thanks. You’re the best, did you know that? Being with you is lately the only thing that makes me feel at peace.”

“I love you, Eth, and I’ll always be here.”

The boy grabbed her hand and pulled her into his chest, hugging her tightly. “I love you, too.” he placed a kiss on the crown of her head. “Can I stay over?”

“Of course.”

Ethan fell asleep quickly, contrary to Y/N, whose thoughts kept her brain working like crazy. Ethan’s sweet words about her making him feel at peace should be heartwarming, but instead it made her heart hurt. Why couldn’t he see her the way she saw him? The way he saw Mila. Why couldn’t Ethan see that she was dying to be in Mila’s place and that he deserved so much better than her?

Ethan deserved to be with someone who treated him like he hung the moon, and instead he was settling for someone who overwhelmed him and brought him down, someone who cared more about what other people said than about his feelings and happiness. It made Y/N both sad and angry, and she prayed he would wake up and see he was worth more.

ETHAN ENTERED HIS ROOM AND DRAGGED HIS FEET TOWARDS HIS BED. He wanted to take a long nap and disconnect from the world, ignoring all the things that were overwhelming him lately. He wanted those feelings to be gone, he needed a good sleep and a good cry. And as if God had heard his prayers, the problems evaporated once his eyes caught sight of his best friend dancing around her room without a care in the world. He crossed his arms and watched with a smile, waiting for her to notice.

The girl stopped as soon as she felt eyes on her. Frowning, she quickly scribbled something on her blackboard.

i don’t do shows for free, quit looking

Laughing, he wrote back, what kind of shows do you do? i’m interested.

Y/N pretended to throw up and replied, i’m calling 911 pervert. And as he shook his head, she quickly wrote something else. you look stressed. wanna talk about it?

And as every afternoon, Ethan ended up sprawled on his best friend’s bed with her lying beside him. “First of all, I broke up with Mila.” he started, and Y/N’s heart stopped.

She tried her best not to smile at that, and managed to mutter “I’m sorry about that.”

Ethan shrugged, “It’s fine. We both know we weren’t really invested in that relationship. I’m stressed because she was furious, screaming something about ruining her chances of being prom queen and disappointing the school by our break-up.”

“And you feel bad about it.” Y/N stated, knowing him like the back of her hand.

“A little bit. I mean, I don’t get it, but prom is important to her for some reason. And now she needs to find another date.”

“That won’t be a problem, though. She’s literally the most gorgeous girl in school.”

“She’s not the most gorgeous girl in school.” he said, but quickly shook his head and moved on. “But it’s us who they want. Ethan and Mila, not Mila and some other guy.”

“Well, if it makes you feel so bad, you should go with her.” Y/N said out loud as her inner voice called her stupid in different languages.

Ethan frowned. “I don’t want to get back with her. And I thought you hated her.”

“I don’t hate her.” she argued.

“I heard you said you’d like her to recreate Regina George’s bus scene.” Ethan said, trying not to laugh at the guilty face she made.

“Look, everyone has intrusive thoughts.” she defended herself and Ethan bursted out laughing. “I’m not proud of it. But, moving on, I’m not telling you to get back with her, but just be her date to prom and then go your separate ways. We’re leaving for college soon, anyways.”

“I suppose you’re right.” he nodded. “That’s another reason why I’m stressed, college.”

“What about it?”

“I’m scared.” he confessed

“Why? Eth, you’re an stellar player. Lots of colleges already told you they’re interested.”

“I’m not scared of not getting into any college. I’m scared that we won’t end up in the same one.” he explained. And his eyes got glossy by just thinking about Y/N not being part of his every day life.

They had known each other since forever. They grew up together and it was in his plans to continue to grow alongside her. She was his person, and he knew he was her person too. She was his other half, he wasn’t complete without her. He rolled his eyes everytime he heard someone say that ‘we are our own person and it was wrong to believe someone complemented you’. He thought that was bullshit. Him and Y/N complemented each other and their lives wouldn’t be the same if they didn’t have each other. A part of them would be missing.

“I’m positive we will both end up on the same college. But even if that doesn’t happen, there’s absolutely no way that will be the end of our friendship, Eth. Come on, you really think our bond is not strong enough to handle a little distance?”

“You’re right.” he said, wiping his tears with the heel of his palm. “It still would suck not to have you there to annoy me every minute of the day.”

“Fuck you, Ethan.” she pinched his side, making him squirm. “And bold of you to assume I wouldn’t call you and text every one second.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you.” he hugged her tightly to his chest, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.

“Love you, too.” she whispered. She wanted to kiss him so badly she had to hide her face on his chest to die down the temptation.

“Hey, I never asked you. Who are you going to prom with?”

“With no one.”

Ethan frowned. “I can’t have that. We are going together.”

Her heart started beating faster. “You’re going with Mila.”

“I haven’t told her we can still go together. And I’m not going to, we are going together.”

“No.” she shook her head. The inner voices screaming at her again. “It’s important to her. I really couldn’t care less about prom. Don’t worry about it.”

“All of your friends have dates, Y/N/N. I know you don’t care about prom, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a good time.” Ethan said, and she shrugged. “I don’t understand, though. I heard, unfortunately, the guys talking in the locker room. A lot of them were planning to ask you.”

“And they did, I just said I was going alone.”

“But why?”

Because I don’t want anyone but you, and I just turned your offer down. “I just don’t want to. Really, don’t worry about me. I don’t like parties anyway, so I won’t stay long. You will have to dance with me at least once, though.”

“Obviously.” he replied softly as he run his fingers through her soft hair until he fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Y/N laid wide awake, picturing that moment. Him, looking like a daydream in a suit, with his big hands around her body and her head on his hard chest, listening to the beat of his heart, which clearly won’t be beating as fast as hers. Yes, she didn’t know how she was going to survive that.

ETHAN STOOD NEXT TO MILA AS THEY TALKED WITH THEIR FRIENDS. Well, Mila did the talking and he was just standing there, looking anxiously at the entrance door, waiting for his best friend to arrive. Ethan had offered to drive her, but she instantly turned him down because there’s no way she was going to share the confined space with Mila.

“Your break-up lasted less than I expected.” one of Mila’s friend said.

Sensing Mila’s intention of not denying the statement, Ethan spoke first. “We aren’t together, we came as friends.”

“We’re always breaking up and making up, we both know you’ll take me back in no time.” Mila laughed.

“Mila.” he sighed. “We talked about this. I told you that we can still be each other’s date, but as long as it was clear that we are over for real. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Wow.” Zach, Ethan’s friend, said. His eyes were wide and his jaw was practically on the floor. And following his gaze, he found out the reason behind his reaction.

Ethan’s body stiffened and felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. Y/N walked through the gym, making her way towards her friends. No one, expect for his group, was paying attention to her. Why was no one paying attention to her?

She looked absolutely beautiful. Breathtaking would be most accurate word, because she took Ethan’s ability to breath as soon as his eyes landed on her figure. She was wearing a long, satin green dress. Her hair was up in a tidy bun, making her look elegant. Fuck, he couldn’t get his eyes off her, nor did he want to.

“Green is not her color.” Mila said between gritted teeth.

Ethan frowned, but his brown eyes were still glued to the girl across the room. “Every color is her color.”

“I’m going to ask her to dance with me.” Zach said confidently.

“Dude, get a hint. She told you she didn’t want to come with you.” another of Ethan’s friend said.

With that, Ethan finally looked away and instead glared at his friend. “You asked her?”

“Well, yeah. Can you blame me?” No, he couldn’t. But still, for some reason, it bothered him. “I can’t believe she said no.”

“Oh, come on. It’s obvious she was going to reject every offer. Well, anyone but one.” Mila said, and the boys’ curious glances landed on her. “What?”

“What are you talking about?” Zach asked.

Mila rolled her eyes. “Really? Literally everyone figured it out”

“Figure out what?” Ethan asked impatiently.

“She’s been in love with the same person for years.”

Ethan’s fists clenched and he felt like his whole body was on fire. “No way, she would’ve told me. We tell each other everything.”

Mila laughed. “It’s you, dumbass. She’s always been in love with you.”

Ethan froze and shook his head. “No. I would’ve- she should’ve… No.”

“Yes, Ethan. Ask anyone. I swear boys are so oblivious” she rolled her eyes. “It’s obvious she didn’t tell you because she knew you’d reject her. I mean, she is out of your league and you’ve never given her any signs that you might feel the same.”

Well, in that she’s right. But only because he had never let his mind wonder about being more because he didn’t want to ruin anything. Besides, he hadn’t seen her signs either and he also started dating Mila. But now… he could see them together. Now he couldn’t understand how he hadn’t thought about it before. After all, Y/N had always been his person—the one that understood him unlike anyone else, the one that made him laugh harder than anyone else, the one he always wanted to have by his side, the one who he belong with.

“She’s not out of my league.” he said, glaring at Mila. “I’m the one out of her league, hell, I don’t think anyone is really deserving of her! You know, she was the one that suggested I still should bring you here, because it was important to you. I asked her to be my date, and she said no. Even though she probably wanted to say yes. She’s that amazing, and I never saw her. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Before anyone could say anything, Ethan let his feet guide him towards her. Y/N saw his silhouette making his way to her and her mouth broke into a smile. He did look like a daydream and the smile she loved was present on his face, shinier than ever.

"Hi, Eth." she stood up to hug him.

How could he have been so blind to notice it? The way her cheeks turned a light shade of red, her shy smile and the sparks in her eyes. Y/N was in love with him. "Hi. You look... like a daydream."

That made her blush even more. "Thank you. You look very handsome." Ethan smiled like a little kid, which made Y/N laugh. "What is going on? You're acting odd."

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know, you're looking different."

"Is that bad?" Ethan frowned.

"No, it's a good different. You look happy. But what is happening?" she laughed with uncertainty. Ethan shook his head, trying to wipe the smile off his face. "Come on, you're making me nervous."

my love was as cruel as the cities i lived in

"First we have to dance to your favorite song." Ethan said, grabbing her hand and guiding her to the dance floor.

Just like she had it pictured it in her mind, her best friend's arms were wrapped around her waist, her hands resting on his broad shoulders and her head lying on his chest. But, contrary to what she had thought, his heart was beating inexplicably fast.

i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you

"I love you, Y/N" Ethan whispered in her ear. He felt her shoulders tense and she slowly raised her head to look at him.

It wasn't like any other previous I love you's, there was something about the way he said it—so softly and vulnerable—that gave her the hope that there was another meaning, that it was another type of i love you.

"Ethan..."

been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

"I do. I really do love you. I am in love with you, and I'm really sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

and now i see daylight, i only see daylight

"For not realizing it earlier. For not seeing how you really felt."

Y/N widened her eyes. He knew. "Ethan... don't."

"Don't what?"

"You're confused. You don't love me like that, I don't want your sympathy. You just think you love me because you don't want to reject me." she said. He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off. "I promise you that our friendship won't change. I've always known it wasn't reciprocated, and I've come in terms with it."

Ethan just smiled. "Are you done overthinking? Because you have two options—you can keep on trying to convince yourself I don't love you and that my heart hasn't been skipping since you walked into this room," he put her hand on his heart. "or you can accept the truth—that I love you and I want you more than anything in the world—and let me kiss you while your song is still playing." he tilted his head down, nose brushing hers. "What is it, Y/N? One or two?"

"Two" she whispered.

He smirked "Good girl."

The kiss stopped time. When they finally pulled away, they stared at each other completely awestruck. Taylor Swift wasn't playing anymore, and they truly didn't have a clue how much time they had spent tasting each other. What they did know is that nothing had ever felt more right.

"Okay, enough show. Let's get out of here, I want you all to myself." he said pressing kisses to her neck.

"I want ice cream first, then we can make out."

"Whatever my girlfriend wants, she gets." with one last kiss, they walked out of the room hand in hand. “By the way, I have always thought you were the most gorgeous girl in school.”

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Hey. I think Killer and Error duo is being slept on. Dunno what dynamic they may have (don't have any thoughts) but something about these two makes me think that they'd get along (or at least, they would get along after initial first impressions)

Yeah, I think so too maybe. I also think that other than Color, Error is the one who actually encourages Killer to talk shit and complain about Nightmare with him.

Now im not too familiar with Error’s canon lore as of right now, but im familiar with the idea that he’s kinda a man child and sometimes had a tendency to throw tantrums.

I can see killer being uncomfortable (unsettled, nervous, confused, on edge, scared) by any huge displays of emotion, especially if they’re about or directed towards him, but he’d die before he admits to anything like that or expresses any genuine emotion and he doesn’t have the words to express any of it anyway because he doesn’t understand emotions or himself.

Killer’s more likely to decide that “something error does is influencing the soul/the body to behave differently and so I should stay away from being controlled” rather than anything like “this makes me uncomfortable.”

Because killer doesnt see himself as experiencing emotions in stage 2, and “himself” is in his mind and away from the body (which allows him to not really care what happens to the physical form so long as it operates well enough), he just thinks it’s the body behaving weird. Couldn’t be him, he can’t feel anything.

But I can see error trying to tune down the huge displays around killer eventually, maybe after a particularly huge and somewhat destructive tantrum of his drives killer to distance himself away from him. (Error seems rather lonely, and I doubt he’d want to lose his fellow nightmare-shit talking buddy.)

And another thing is that Error has issues with being touched, and killer relies on touch to determine if something is truly real or not.

And, uh, his stage 2 self doesn’t really understand boundaries naturally (or, a bit more accurately, he doesn’t see how they effect him) and therefore he can disrespect them; a lot of the time because he needs to tell if something is real or not or he’ll lose his damn mind again, other times because of a sense of curiosity or his deep seated need for control. He has a tendency to be like “boundaries for me, not for thee”—and we all saw how he manhandles swap.

So I can see just spending a lot of time just silently staring at error with his big doe black eyes while error yaps on, silent. And killer can’t really see shit well due to the goop from his sockets, so staring holes into error’s skull doesn’t make him seem any more real.

And of course error understandably flips his lid when he’s suddenly touched out of nowhere without his permission, probably stringing killer up in his strings and holding him up and away so he won’t touch him again. Only for killer to calmly slip right out of them because the strings don’t really affect him.

It’s gonna be like pulling teeth to get killer to explain why he did that, so this will probably be another period of rockiness in their relationship. Killer simply doesn’t like letting others know anything about him that he doesn’t want to willingly give, anything about his motives, genuine thoughts, goals.

And he doesn’t see what the issue is, although he recognizes that error is upset. He’ll probably say something to calm error down, something like “I won’t do it again,” without fully understanding the problem simply because, once again, the displays of emotion are making his body act weird. He doesn’t like the “control” error has over it. Killer knows how to people please and fawn when he needs to.

I don’t think he’ll willingly bring this interaction up with color to ask his trusted person to explain to him why this was an issue—simply because killer’s stage 2 self doesn’t often seek out emotional connection due to plain indifference and disinterest towards most people.

He doesn’t really care at this point if error doesn’t wanna talk to him again—just means that less chance of error’s emotions controlling his body again. (It’s the schizoid tendencies talking girl oh no he has headphones in he can’t hear us!!)

But color, being the absolute chad he is, recognizes that killer really needs more friends than him and error probably does too honestly. So instead color gently spends some time trying to encourage killer to just show some trust in others for once, and explain why he needs touch.

It takes awhile. Killer doesn’t get why he should explain himself to anyone that doesn’t have power over him, and no thank you to the idea of expressing himself. Color points out that error was willing to tone down the intensity of his outbursts, willing to adjust himself for killer’s comfort, because he wanted killer’s company.

Killer says error just wanted company. Not his company. Color gives killer a look and says, “being lonely and wanting company isn’t weakness.”

But it probably eventually happens. Color helps him write down the words, perhaps writes the definition for the derealization that killer was experiencing.

From there things probably get better for them. Error explains his phobia, killer says color told him he’s not supposed to touch people without permission. Error says he doesn’t give permission, and killer is quiet for a moment, before saying, “ok.”

Maybe they work up to it, maybe they never do. Error gives killer a mini doll of himself to squeeze whenever he starts doubting reality—probably because killer keeps forgetting he’s supposed to ask before touching but always stops himself mid way.

Error can see that killer is trying, although he doesn’t understand why it’s so hard for the guy to conceptualize the idea of boundaries. Does he not understand that saying no is a valid option? Regardless, killer is willing to listen when told no. Even if he clearly doesn’t understand what the big deal is. (If only killer had learned this lesson before meeting swap)

And they will of course what Error’s telenovelas. Or Error will watch them and ramble to killer with character analysis, headcanons, and theories while killer struggles to stay present and not become completely dissociated. The cats will lounge around in the beanbags with them.

I think it’ll be a very long time before killer feels safe enough around error to allow himself to be in stage 1–he will leave immediately as soon as he starts shifting over—but for now they’re both content with keeping things more surface level.

Kidnapping will become a staple of their interactions. Some days error will just snatch killer right up regardless of what’s he’s doing or saying and killer can escape easily but instead he’s just like, “new episode again?” Nightmare throws a fit whenever error takes killer while he’s trying to talk to him, which amuses killer so he allows it simply to spite the boss.

Sometimes ink is there too. Killer doesn’t know why or when they came around, but he’s there! Ink apparently likes drawing killer and error a lot. Ink comments that’s he taking all this in a surprising stride, and killer’s like..”pal, most days this just feels like a fever dream.”

Ink likes making and giving killer drawings of what happened that day out of hopes itll help it all feel more real to him.

[the-s1lly-corner]

not sure if you’ve done this already but how would slenderman react to the reader hugging his tentacles? and generally showing affection to it.

Reader who hugs n kisses slendermans tentacles!

dont think i did anything like before so yahoo! honestly as much as i love slenderman, thinking of a whole boat load of ideas over the course of like. 9? years, this never crossed my mind. your brain, huge

its not often that you see his tentacles out, usually theyre for his hunting as well as defense.. and to look more intimidating. you know, generally not something that he wants you to be around for..

but i think every now and then they creep out during down time with you, perhaps during a cuddling session with your tall monster boyfriend? or maybe you even get him to indulge in "play" (not that kind of play get your mind out of the gutter) and his tentacles slip out, like you guys playing simple games

the image of someone playing tag or hide and seek with the forest demon is making me chuckle, something much needed post mini cry/freak out session LMAO

personally i like to think that he can only half way control his tentacles. like yeah sure when he needs them they're out, but for the most part they do their own thing, you know?

set up down, lets get to the actual request. his tentacles are colder than him, and admin is personally torn on making them slimy or not... perhaps slightly so? like juuuuuuust enough to be just a little oily but nothing insane, kind of feels like your hands after you just put lotion on them. smooth, too

very cold. i know i mentioned that theyre colder than him, but its like ice cold. so...

basically he doesnt expect you to show any love to this part of him, so hes thoroughly confused when you grab one of them and gently press your lips to it.. then let go. then grab another and give it a kiss as well

cue a confused head tilt before his voice comes into your head to ask what on earth youre doing

isnt it uncomfortable, with the slight ooze? isnt it too cold? doesnt it at least taste a little off?

torn about it, because on one hand hes used these things to kill. but on the other hand he mostly kills in order to protect his space and to sustain his body, and admin likes thinking that he sometimes gets a bit of guilt. call it him resenting his own existence and simply wanting to be left alone while having a natural curiosity for the world around him even though he only really destroys the life around him

also he doesnt like giving you stuff from victims, and i think he would have similar feelings about his tentacles

and yet... he cant deny, that he can hold you closer with them, that he can keep you nearby with them... and that you love him, and every part of him. undeniably, you do. i dont know, its something that when i think about it, its sweet

this creature is full of resentment, for himself and the world he was put in as well as the one who made him (zalgo cough cough au stuff) but here you are

assuming the reader is a human i think it hits even harder, because youre something that hes built to wreck and destroy. and yet youve given him pause, and that was enough for you to win him over

and you never stop surprising him

im getting off topic, but im just a sap for concepts like this, you know?

"its rotten work," "not to me... not if its you" but its you and slenderman, basically

i think the first few times when you start showing his extra appendages affection he pulls them away from you, maybe even forcing them back and tucking them away

but i think over time he melts into it and accepts it...

oh how cruel it was, for the universe to give this reclusive creature a sense of longing, which has been exasperated now that hes gotten a taste of it first hand

[bonny-kookoo]

I'm in love with Unstable! It's sooooo good. Can I make a request? Now that Jungkook is going through mating season, when it actually hits maybe he gets pretty protective of mc and he's just always encouraging her to nest, and he doesnt know why, neither does mc. So when they get in contact with Jin, it's him who just laughs and tells them it's just jungkooks intincts to show his future mate how good of a provider he is and how capable he is of taking care of pups. Love your writing Bonny! 🥰

-> Masterlist

It's.. odd seeing Jungkook not wearing his typical uniformed clothes. His typical black clothes he always seems to wear, it's become something you always knew him for. He always looks the same, always seems well put together, in control of himself.

Well, looked. Because these days, you've noticed a change in that.

His hair is a bit wild, and that's one of the first things that began to change. He's constantly running his hands through it, or he's napping more often than not, causing the black strands to occasionally stand up in disarray. Another thing is his choice of clothing- he's now dressed in layers, soft cotton sweaters and loose jackets or flannels, sweatpants instead of his usual cargo pants.

And today, as you enter the control center, there's something else that's now catching your attention.

There's multiple spots he seems to sleep on all around the control room- one near the windows where you usually sit and knit or nap, one close to the large server-towers, and another one near the main control station. And that's not.. odd, you can only assume that it's his instincts controlling his actions maybe, you've read somewhere that Bolku people do in fact build lairs for their partners to keep them safe. Not really because they wanna keep them comfortable or because they 'love' them- but more so to send a message out that this person is off limits and 'belongs' to them. It's more of an ego thing, if anything else, really.

But maybe, since Jungkook is partially human, something got mixed up? It must be horribly confusing to have two different instincts clashing together like that, considering the stark contrast between Human's social behavior, and the social norms of Bolku people.

"uh.. is it okay if I still sit here?" You point next to the.. nest-like structure where you usually spend time doing your little crocheting. Jungkook looks up at that, sitting in an unusual position on his chair, knee up to rest his cheek against just seconds ago. He nods.

"...yeah, lemme just-.." He mumbles, getting up to walk closer before he stops in front of it. It's clear that his initial plan was probably to put his stuff away and clean up the clothes and blankets and take down the fabric covering parts of the cold window. But he's now just staring at it, struggling to go through with it.

"I can just sit somewhere else, no worries-" You start, but he shakes his head.

"No, it's.. you can sit here." He says instead, before pointing at the middle of the pile of fabrics, where it's clearly flattened from his body resting there at some point. "There." He underlines again, nodding towards the nest.

You do so- his eyes focusing on the fact that you even go as far as to take your shoes off before you settle in the pile of stuff, fitting well in the middle of it all, with good amount of space to spare. The way you lean against the blanket covering the window makes him act again- moving to get another one to heighten one of the sides so that you wouldn't have to rest your body against the rather cold window.

Only after he's done, still crouching down in front of you, does he seemingly realize what he's doing.

The way his yellow hued eyes slowly change into pink makes you realize that you were probably thinking right- that he's most likely confused by his instincts clashing together.

And only a few hours later, when you act like you're asleep, do you hear that that's genuinely a problem of his, as he talks to Seokjin over a livestream at his control panel.

"I don't know!" Jungkook hisses agitated. "I want her- like, the moment she was in that pile of junk, it was like my entire body was suddenly lighter. And now that she sleeps in it-" He sighs loudly, and you can hear the chair creaking as he moves around in it.

"You're nesting dear! Oh that's so sweet to hear-" An elderly, female voice is heard, before you can hear Seokjin again.

"Mom please, you're embarrassing him!" He laughs, while you can hear a faint growl from Jungkook.

"What? It's nothing to be ashamed of, humans like being cared for!" The woman apparently being Seokjin's mother argues softly. "Jinnie told me you have found a sweet mate- you make sure she stays happy and healthy, yes?" She asks, while Seokjin whines.

"I never said she was a mate!" Jin defends himself. "Though it's clear he likes her-"

"Since when does that mean I think of her as a mate?!" Jungkook bites back, and at that, you feel a bit disheartened. It's not like you want to be seen as something like that- okay, maybe you want to. Or not? You're confused yourself about what you really feel about him.

"Jungkook, you gotta stop denying yourself things." Jin's voice says, defeated. "She clearly likes you, you clearly like her. Stop making it so complicated!" He whines.

"I'm not making it complicated, I just-" He sighs to himself. "-god, I'm not.. Even if I was to accept it all right now, she doesn't see me that way." He tries to explain. "She's not interested in me like that. Which is understandable- considering that I might-"

"Jungkook, dear, I did not raise you like that, did I?" The woman speaks again, and he sighs. "I raised you to be a good person." She says.

"...yes, but I might-" He starts, but she cuts him off again.

"You will not." She denies. "Even if there was no human blood in your veins, your heart is too warm to ever belong to a Bolku. You're not cold-blooded. You're warm, Jungkook." She tries, and there's a good moment of silence before Jin speaks again.

"Jungkook, she'll tell you when you're being an asshole. Don't you trust her?" He wonders, and after a moment, there's a quiet answer.

"I do." He says, and you fight hard to keep playing the role of the sleeping unaware one in the room. "I do trust her."

"Then trust her in that too. You're way too scared of yourself. You'll both be fine." He laughs, before his mother in the background seems to ask him something. "Ah, I gotta go, you go make some comfy nests for your princess!" He laughs, especially when Jungkook groans, before a sound is heart signalling the call's end.

You're not sure what to think now- especially when you can sense Jungkook crouching down in front of you, his hand adjusting something you're sleeping on, before he moves his jacket to lay over your back instead of hanging from the coat hook nearby.

Maybe, he really should trust you.

Maybe it's time for a change.