#like it could be performative in some way

[mapis-putellas]

𝑰𝒏 𝑬𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

The moment Alexia steps off the set, you can tell she’s in a mood.

Her shoulders are tight, her jaw is clenched, and the slight crease between her brows is a dead giveaway. She walks straight past you without a word, not even sparing a glance in your direction.

You bite back a smile.

“Baby,” you call, jogging a few steps to catch up with her.

She doesn’t stop walking. “No me hables.”

That only makes you grin wider.

You fall into step beside her, watching as she all but rips the lanyard from around her neck and shoves it into her pocket.

“What happened?” you ask, even though you already know.

She mutters something under her breath that you don’t quite catch.

“Alexia.”

She sighs sharply through her nose. “Me hicieron hacer una entrevista en inglés.”

-

Alexia sits stiffly in the chair, hands clasped together in her lap, her knee bouncing ever so slightly. The bright studio lights make her blink more than usual, and she shifts uncomfortably as the camera operator counts down from three.

She wishes she’d had more time to prepare.

She’d known today was media day. That part was fine. What she hadn’t known was that they were going to throw an English interview at her, completely unplanned, with no script, no warning -nothing.

“Alexia, thank you for being here,” the interviewer, a young British woman, says with a warm smile.

Alexia nods, pressing her lips together. “Yes. Thank you.”

She winces internally. Too robotic. Too forced. She can already feel the heat creeping up the back of her neck.

The interviewer doesn’t seem to notice, though. She just keeps going.

“So, first of all, congratulations on such a great season. How are you feeling?”

Alexia inhales, nodding as she searches for the right words. “I feel…good. Um. Happy with…the team, the, uh…” She gestures vaguely with her hands, trying to recall the word.

“Performances?” the interviewer offers gently.

Alexia nods quickly. “Yes. Performances.” It’s clunky, and she knows it, but she pushes forward.

“We…work very hard, uh, every day. It’s not…easy, but we-” She pauses, trying to structure the sentence in her head. “We, uh, fight for… win? Winning?”

The interviewer nods encouragingly. “Yes, for the win.”

Alexia exhales through her nose. “Yes. We fight for the win.”

She glances off-camera briefly, looking for an escape. There isn’t one.

The interviewer moves on. “You’ve been captain for quite some time now. What does leadership mean to you?”

Alexia hesitates. It’s not that she doesn’t know the answer -she does- but trying to articulate it in English is an entirely different challenge. She frowns slightly, her mind racing.

“Um… it is…” She clears her throat, frustrated with herself. “Not just… talking, or… or yelling. It is… to show with, um…” She taps a finger against her knee. “How you are?”

“By example?”

She exhales in relief. “Yes. By example.”

She shakes her head, feeling the frustration building. She knows she’s not saying things the way she wants to. In Spanish, she could give a perfect answer -nuanced, thoughtful, meaningful. But here? She feels like she sounds like a child.

She pushes through the rest of the interview, nodding and forcing out short, simple answers. By the time it’s finally over, she’s barely holding back her annoyance.

The interviewer smiles, seemingly oblivious to Alexia’s internal agony. “Thank you so much for your time, Alexia.”

Alexia nods stiffly. “Yes. Thank you.”

As soon as the cameras cut, she exhales sharply, raking a hand through her hair.

She hates this feeling. She stands quickly, muttering something to herself as she storms off set.

-

You nod slowly. “And?”

She waves a hand in the air, exasperated. “And nada.”

“But you’re grumpy.”

“Porque no lo esperaba.”

You hum in understanding. Alexia likes her routines. She thrives on knowing exactly what to expect, and when something disrupts that -well. You’re witnessing the aftermath.

“I bet you did great,” you say.

Alexia gives you a flat look.

You laugh, bumping your shoulder against hers. “I’m serious.”

She exhales heavily, raking a hand through her hair. “Me trabé dos veces.”

You reach out, gently tugging on the sleeve of her jersey. “That’s not so bad.”

She scoffs. “Para ti, no.”

You squeeze her arm. “For everyone. No one expects you to be perfect, baby.”

Alexia doesn’t respond, but you can tell she’s still stewing over it.

You glance around, noting that most of the team is still tied up with their own media obligations. It’s the perfect opportunity to steal her away for a little bit.

“Come on,” you say, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the exit.

She resists at first. “¿A dónde vamos?”

“To fix your mood.”

She huffs, but she lets you drag her along anyway.

You find an empty corner outside, away from the cameras, away from the noise. The late afternoon sun is warm against your skin, and there’s a slight breeze that carries the scent of freshly cut grass.

Alexia leans against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, watching you warily. “¿Qué quieres hacer?”

You step closer, reaching up to brush your fingers along her jaw. “I want you to stop being mean to yourself.

Her lips press into a thin line.

You tilt your head, studying her. “You know what I think?”

She sighs. “¿Qué?”

“I think you’re the most incredible person I know. I think you’re brilliant at everything you do, including speaking English. And I think it’s really cute when you get flustered over small things.”

Her ears turn pink.

You smile, shifting your hand to the back of her neck. “Baby, it’s okay to mess up sometimes.”

She looks away. “No me gusta.”

“I know. But you have to be kinder to yourself.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, then finally, she exhales, some of the tension in her shoulders easing. “Lo intento.”

You grin, pulling her into a hug. She lets out a soft sound as you tuck her against you, her arms immediately wrapping around your waist, hands looped at the small of your back.

“There she is,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to her neck as you cup the back of her head.

She buries her face in your shoulder. “Eres molesta.”

“You love me.”

She sighs dramatically. “Sí.”

You chuckle, swaying with her slightly.

After a beat, she pulls back just enough to look at you. “Me llevas a casa después de esto?”

You nod. “Of course.”

She kisses you, soft and slow, and just like that -her bad mood is forgotten.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[drgnflyteabox]

daddy cool, side B ⋆˙⟡

simon riley x fem!reader (background price x reader) summary: you make a movie with simon. ↪or, john produces. tags/warnings: making a porno, rough sex (p in v), oral (f + m), please forgive my dialogue i'm trying my best, degradation / slut shaming, squirting, a little dubcon, size kink, a little pain, unnegotiated kink, john is mostly in the background but he's there

“Alright honey, move a little to the right.”

“Like this?”

“Just like that, sweetheart. Spread those legs a little.”

John had been your fluffer earlier, licked you until you were rarin’ to go, wet and soft and needy. He can probably still taste you on his mustache.

You’re taking photos now, leaning back on the bed, bare wet pussy spread for John and the camera. Your two fingers create a perfect V, showing him your winking hole, your pert clit.

He really wasn’t lying about producing– you hadn’t deeply suspected him, but there was a niggling little thought there that he was maybe putting it on to get you in bed. It had worked either way, but nice to know he’s honest.

Ghost, the masked man. Cheesy, but popular with women, John says. They like the mystery.

“Touch yourself a little,” John shifts the camera as you do, lightly petting your clit with two fingers, “that’s good, that’s real good.”

You dip two fingers into your hole, wet from John’s earlier attention, biting your lip in what you hope is a seductive manner for the camera. John chuckles low in his chest, cock pushing against his tight pants. The view makes your mouth water, but you aren’t here for John today.

You’re here for the giant of a man that walks through the doorway, wearing scuffed blue jeans and big black boots. The mask isn’t what you’d imagined, but it fits over the tight white t-shirt he’s wearing. A skull.

“Ah, Simon,” John turns to greet him, “there you are.”

Simon’s cock is already chubbed up in his jeans, long and thick against his leg. For a perverse moment you imagine what it would look like for he and John to push their bulges against each other, groaning, pec squeezed against pec, and your pussy clenches.

You wish John would perform, if only just to tag team you with this meaty specimen of a man.

Add it to the spankbank.

“John,” Simon greets him back, stepping into the room. He’s not even looking at you, which is hot for some reason you don’t care to parse. He lifts a boot and steps onto John’s stool, “fresh meat?”

John laughs, which seems to be the only answer Simon needs before he turns towards you finally and pins you to the bed with his gaze. 

Your fingers pause, still dipped halfway inside, clit pulsing against the heel of your palm.

“Pretty,” he says, and just as you’re about to say thank you, “nice, Cap,” a pause, “picked a ripe one.”

He walks until his shins hit the bed, looking down at you and your spread legs, where your hand is still and your pussy drips onto the sheets. His eyelashes are pale, ghostly, strangely beautiful against his brown eyes. 

You wish you could see his face, his expression, but John was right– they do like the mystery.

There’s a little hint of a scar that pokes up from his cheekbone, pulling the skin of his bottom lid a little, but there’s no time to examine him in detail.

“Right then,” John interrupts, “let’s take a few pictures.”

The first pose he puts you in is on Simon’s lap, explicitly directing you to press your pussy against his jeanclad thigh and make a little wet spot for us, will you, love?

It’s honestly humiliating, but you’re so tuned up that the heat of your embarrassment only adds to the tension.

“That’s good, that’s real good,” John murmurs, instructing Simon to put a heavy hand on your lower back, pressing you further into his leg.

Your clit drags against the fabric, and the camera snaps your open mouthed gasp.

“Pull her shirt down,” and Simon does; pulling your tanktop down until your tits fall out, soft and peaked, pressed against the worn fabric of his shirt.

You’re looking over your shoulder, hazy, bottom lip between your teeth. John snaps a few more before he places you in the next position.

All you can stare at is the dark patch on Simon’s jeans.

“This one’s for the cover,” he says, getting Simon to lay down and pull his jeans a little down– showing off the line of hair leading to the biggest tease; the beginnings of his bush, trapped under just his jeans.

He’s gone commando. All you can see is the little pudge of his pubis as it’s squished by his waistband, a tasty little tenderloin you want to bite.

You’re next; standing over Simon, legs wide open, looking down at him with your tits out and your thighs wet. It’s a movie-esque kind of pose, and in another universe maybe you’re decked out in cheap sci-fi costumes for a blockbuster.

Then he’s ready, and you have to re-dress. Tanktop goes back on, shorts get slid right back up your legs, and he puts you on top of the covers.

Simon prowls like a panther, graceful in his movements despite the sheer size of him. You’re leaned back, elbows on the bed, breathing harder the closer he gets.

“Felt that wet little pussy,” he says, voice low, “she’s more than ready for me, isn’t she? Probably soaking those slutty shorts.”

“Uh huh,” you murmur, legs outstretched and straight before him. 

John had told you a little bit of the ‘script’ beforehand, a loose skeleton to follow outside of improv, so you aren’t shocked when he pulls the button open on your shorts and pulls them down in one fell swoop.

“Look’it that,” his lips move under the mask. You wonder if he’s licking his lips, looking at your pussy like that.

He takes you by the ankle, dragging you across the mattress until you’re flat on your back and looking up at him.

“Haven’t even seen my cock yet,” he laughs meanly, his other hand reaching to take a big squeeze of his cock through his jeans, “and look’it that. Slag if I’ve ever seen one.”

Your face burns, breath stuttering. This wasn’t a part of the little warning John had given you, but you’re not that mad about it. Hot, humiliated– but not opposed.

Simon looks at you for barely another second before he’s crawled up to your face, knees on either side of your head.

Oh.

“Gimme a kiss.”

You lean forward, lips pressing against his rough jeans. He smells good, a little like cigarettes but there’s that musk you love so much. You mouthe against him until he pulls your head back to the mattress by your hair.

He pulls down his jeans, freeing a mostly plump cock that flops onto your cheek. Oh man, it’s weighty. The nestle of curls at the base of it is like a magnet for your eyes, too.

“I can take it all the way,” you look up into those inscrutable eyes.

“Yeah? Prove it.”

You take the tip first, licking it lewdly, turning to the camera every so often like John had told you to– just let them see those eyes, honey. Show them how much you like it.

So you do. You give big, wide eyes as Simon gets impatient and starts tunnelling down your throat, shoulders trapped beneath his heavy thighs.

When you gag, he laughs lowly, keeping you there. He runs a rough thumb over the taut stretch of your upper lip, down to your lower lip, palm cradling your jaw.

“That’s a good girl,” he slides backwards, jeans scraping your nipples through your tanktop, hardly giving you but a moment before he's pushing back in. Rinse and repeat.

It’s like with John, only Simon’s cock is a little different. Longer, and curved where John’s is thicker. The tip pokes you in the back of the throat, sometimes at the roof of your mouth from the awkward angle.

You feel crushed underneath him despite your entire lower half being free, legs coming up and thighs squeezing together as the camera pans towards them and John murmurs, “show me that pussy, honey.”

So you spread your legs, humiliated at the gluk-gluk-gluk sound coming from your throat but gushing impossibly more under the camera’s lens.

“That’s a pretty picture,” Simon grunts, sliding out of your mouth to tap the head against your lips, letting you stick your tongue out and drool drip down your chin, “yeah. Keep your mouth open.”

This is mostly for the camera, the way he rubs himself on your face, the way you lay there and keep your mouth open. You don’t have to fake the desperation, but still.

Simon’s a pro.

He leans back, fingers finding your bare cunt and sliding a finger along your slit. Slippery, swollen, the contact is like drinking water in the desert. Like the satisfying pleasure-pain of pressing down a bruise.

His finger slides up and down shallowly, never stopping where you need it while you kiss the underside of his cock.

“This cock-hungry pussy’s soakin’ my fingers,” his eyes squint, like he’s grinning under the mask, “reckon I could solve a drought with this,” he lifts his finger to your mouth, slipping them in for you to taste yourself.

Where the fuck did John find this guy?

You play along, face burning, sucking his fingers with a soft moan.

After a moment, he leans back and gets off you, pulling your tanktop down as he does so your tits bounce back out. Hello again, ladies.

There’s a small moment of stalling where John sets the camera up on a tripod near the end of the bed and Simon drags you so your head is towards the headboard, and then it’s 3 2 1 action again.

“Hands on the headboard,” Simon gruffs, then slides onto his belly and presses his mask to your cunt. Your hands fly to the headboard, hanging on for dear life as he inhales through the fabric.

Jesus. He rubs the knit on your swollen pussy, up and down, spreading you open with his covered chin and then pressing his nose to your clit.

You don’t have to exaggerate your sounds. They come naturally, rising in pitch when he pushes his mask up just enough to see his pink, scarred lips wrap around your engorged clit.

He’s greedy, eating more to taste you than to please you.

When he lifts his head, mouth wet and tongue poking out to lick the remnants of your slick, stopping at the cusp of your orgasm, you give the camera at the end of the bed your best wounded animal look.

Simon doesn’t take his jeans off when he gets back up to his knees, shuffling to kneel between your legs.

You notice all too late that he hasn’t fingered you, not even a little dip. He’s licked you, sucked on your clit until you were keening, but there’s a deadly focus in his eyes as he puts the fat head of his cock against your hole that tells you you’re in trouble.

“Got a good look at this?,” he grunts, tilted towards the camera, “this is the best part.”

Oh fuck, he pushes in and it feels like a hydraulic press; crushing pressure, a sting, stretching taught around him as you gasp–

“Pinching me,” he curls his lip, abdomen tensing, “Jesus.”

“Oh god, fuck,” you shiver, trying to keep your knees spread, wincing and gasping in deep breaths for air as he carves a space inside you for himself.

“Relax,” he squeezes in further. Stretching, painful, intensely delicious, “relax that cunt for me, sweetheart. Let her get what she needs. ”

You try, only noticing John as he palms his bulge, watching your pussy struggling to take Simon’s cock.

It takes a few see-sawing movements of his hips before you finally loosen a little around him and he really lets loose. Doesn’t let you take a breath, just starts pounding like he’s getting a bonus for it and you shout with surprise.

A vision of an adventuring viking comes to mind, beaten and lashed by storm, the only respite to hang onto the mast in the middle of a ship… that’s the headboard for you.

He fucks like animal, but it’s still as graceful as the way he moved when he first entered the room. How can a man that looks so rough, is so big, roll his spine and slap his hips into yours in such a dancerly way? His pace is inhuman.

His cock spears into you like he’s digging for gold, tilted just so that you’re loud with how good it feels and almost wincing every time he pokes a little too deep.

You think maybe it’s on purpose, what with the way he stares down at you, big hands coming to hold your midsection and dig his fingers into your skin. 

Yeouch, that feels good.

“There she is,” he fucks you deep, unrelenting, groaning when he feels your hole start to squeeze, “doesn’t even need a hand, then,” he laughs.

He’s right. You don’t. Your abdomen squeezes, orgasm building, the first of its kind– without any kind of contact on your clit, that is.

You try to hold back for as long as possible, try to make eyes at the camera again, but you’re lost to the feeling of getting fucked so good and so deep. The feeling builds and builds and steamrolls you, legs shaking where they’re spread, ears going deaf with the blood rushing in them.

A scream bursts forth from your throat at the same time as you literally spray, slick soaking Simon’s jeans and the bottom of his t-shirt. 

There’s no time to be embarrassed with the hard, punitive thrusts he gives you as he rides his orgasm out behind yours, filling you up with hot come.

You’re boneless, after. Laying nice and still for John to get closeups of your creampie’d pussy, for Simon to rest his spent cock between your pussylips and grin under his mask, tucking himself back into his soiled jeans as John dismisses him.

He’s damp everywhere, but he strolls over to John’s little minibar area and pours himself a whiskey like it doesn’t bother him.

John doesn’t give you a break, either. He pans the camera to the mess on the bed, the wet spot you’d caused by squirting all over Simon’s cock.

John grins at you from behind the camera.

“You’re a natural, honey.”

[fleuriion]

✦ Chiming Bell ノ MODERN! High school hcs with the Chrysos Heir because I love them so much ⸝⸝ gn reader ⸝⸝ wc: 1780 ✦ Note ; The usual grammar error and spelling mistakes warning ⸝⸝ if they come across as ooc then I apologize because I'm still not very confident in my ability of writing HSR characters haha ⸝⸝ This can be interpreted as both romantic and platonic as your liking! ⸝⸝ will probably edit out some mistakes ⸝⸝ I'm very sorry for not including Hyacine TT

♡ Phainon ⸝⸝ I feel like he's kind of a jock BUT also not a jock. Like, he's not THOSE jocks that get angry at you if you cannot catch the ball that is beaming at 1000 mph to your face. ⸝⸝ Those popular kids that are actually super nice to everyone. I feel like he doesn't judge people much and if he does dislike someone, will not rub it in their face unless they deserve to. ⸝⸝ Basically just a ray of sunshine. Definitely has Mydei as his seatmate and I just imagine Phainon walking into class greeting everyone every morning and then Mydei is just sitting there massaging his temple, wondering how he's so bright this early. ⸝⸝ While he's generally super nice, I think Phainon is also pretty mischievous though. I can already imagine him getting into some light troubles and then having to sweep the hallway as a punishment LMAO. ⸝⸝ Probably enjoys learning history and literature, he just gets super sleepy and perhaps bored in them. Decent at math but HORRIBLE at science like chemistry. Phainon comes up to Mydei as lab partner and Mydei prays the two of them don't get involved in any sorts of explosion or chemical accident /j ⸝⸝ When Phainon is pinning on you, he will 100% turn into a golden retriever. Follows you around in a non-creepy way, helps you carry stuff, probably tries tutoring you the best he could, sometimes ask to have lunch together and then drags you to the rest of his friends. ⸝⸝ Gets super shy about it and it didn't escape his friends. Also gets not bullied but teased a lot for it, when you walked past them far enough, I feel like most likely Mydei would go "holy shit is that Phainon's lover walking past by just now?!" ⸝⸝ When he announced that the two of you are dating to his friends, they would hold their pearl necklace and pretend like they're shocked (except it's so purposefully exaggerated it's hilarious wow Phainon you're so slick!) ♡ Aglaea ⸝⸝ I hc'd that the Chrysos Heir is basically akin to the Student Council in the modern world, so expect no less that Aglaea is definitely the president or at the VERY least the vice president. ⸝⸝ That one strict classmate who always looks her best and behaves the best too. Probably a class president or rep too?? Would reprimand her classmates or the other students to mind both their attire and attitude. ⸝⸝ Teacher's pet, except she's one that you can't really walk over or trample. Girl just has that aura in her for not only being smart but also beautiful?!?! (My GOAT Aglaea as always) ⸝⸝ Looks scary at first glance, but if you need her help with studying she would help say no more! That one meme that goes like "would you let me copy your homework?" "no, but I'll help you with it" ⸝⸝ This may sound pretty personal and specific but hc that she excels and enjoys public speaking. Her words and articulations are probably amazing if you get what I mean... ⸝⸝ Honestly, if she is pinning on you? Nobody would pretty much find out about it unless she personally said so. I'm sorry but Aglaea strikes off to me as the type to be super good at hiding aka slick with her feelings for someone. (Ironically for being the bearer of Mnestia's coreflame in lore lol) ⸝⸝ So when she told her friends that you two are dating, their surprise is actually real and pure. ⸝⸝ It's still noticeable though subtle tho! Aglaea will be extra mindful of you and will no doubt worry about your grades and your performance. Would help you study even if it takes time say less! ♡ Mydei

⸝⸝ Similarly to Phainon, seems like a jock but isn't too much of a jock once you get to know about him. I think it's pretty much just a first impression since he's physically well built and healthy. For someone with his looks, Mydei is a pretty quiet and calm seatmate, ones targeted by people who is just full on comical nonsense (Trailblazer for instance…. They're so stupid I love them).

⸝⸝ Seemingly messy appearance (that slightly loose collar and messily tied tie fix that rn Mydei i hate hastily tied tie and sometimes spends 5 minutes redoing it if I couldn't get it right sobs), but is actually very discipline and a pretty decent student. Also hc that he uses reading glasses.

⸝⸝ Bluddy is probably the first to arrive at class and is usually pretty punctual with a few exceptions being made. Definitely that one friend who sleeps early and wakes up early. Probably lets you copy his homework just so you can get off his ass.

⸝⸝ Excels at history, terrible at math, probably decent at chemistry??? Hear me out though, he's terrible at math and physics but he's interested in them so it's kind of a party pooper LAMFAO (self projecting). Mydei doesn't hate it, he probably just doesn't understand it.

⸝⸝ Those type of guys that people are scared of because of his appearance, but is actually good with juniors. He helps them with studying and getting the subject's concept wrapped around their head and somehow patient for a man that doesn't look like he has patience at all.

⸝⸝ When Mydei pins on you, he won't look nor act THAT much different around you. If you're a much more comical or hilarious kind of person, he endures and tolerates you more. He will offer more lending hands though; for instance, explaining things you don't understand more, willingly tutors you, sneaks gifts into your desk or locker and then softly denies it when questioned (you're not slick bro.)

⸝⸝ Mydei doesn't announce it if you two are dating, rather, his friends found out on their own by the slight flush on his face when he's around you and the way his fierce eyes seemed to simmer down a little when you're around.

♡ Castorice

⸝⸝ SUPER quiet and probably finds it hard to communicate all the time. The reason people know her is mostly because she's apart of the Student Council, but that aside, she's also super kind and nice!

⸝⸝ Hangs around Aglaea a lot and acts as her 'assistant' or similar. Also a teacher's pet except on the more mellow side and one that even the meanest of the mean doesn't have the heart to mock.

⸝⸝ She probably could be vice president.. But that's just a rough gut and because I see her as one. Also reprimands her classmates and other students to be mindful of their attire and attitude.

⸝⸝ Generally good at any subjects given, but I hc that Castorice really likes art and music classes. The atmosphere is quieter and much more peaceful that even her mind could rest a little. Definitely joins clubs like sewing club.

⸝⸝ Sometimes sleeps on recess because I see her as those super-tired looking type of people who can doze off while standing but refrains on doing so in classes. Due to this, probably picks the seat closer to the window to hide away from the lights at the center of the class.

⸝⸝ When Castorice pins on you, she will subtly get super shy around you. Sometimes stutters on her speech and is extra polite at you much to the awkwardness. Be prepared for cuteness overload!!

⸝⸝ Castorice definitely makes things for you! A small crochet plush, flower crowns, or some fake flowers that reminds her of you. Surfs into flower language to express her affection to you by making said flowers for you!

⸝⸝ Castorice would reluctantly yet shyly declares her love for you one random evening, and the rest of the Chyrsos Heir is totally NOT spying at you two from behind some bushes. ♡ Anaxa

⸝⸝ This man is canonically a professor according to the in-game lore what else do I need to say??

⸝⸝ That one smart kid who's super snarky and sarcastic. If you think Mydei is pretty sarcastic for someone, then behold Anaxagoras and his sharp yet elegant tongue that totally does not remind me of a certain doctor.

⸝⸝ He definitely no doubt enjoys subjects science related. Chemistry, physics, biology, name it. Yet nobody really dares to approach him and ask him to be their lab partner due to, again, the aura that surrounds him. You feel like you're shrinking per second you stand next to him if you don't know anything about him. Also hc that he enjoys scientific debates.

⸝⸝ He probably goes overseas to attend science olympics like a lot, and obviously comes back with victory by his side. He's probably academic rivals with Aglaea haha. I can just see them competing for the school's 1st place.

⸝⸝ Anaxa gets avoided by plenty people because of his personality, but he doesn't pay any mind nor does he care about it. After all, his only interest currently is knowledge, isn't it..?

⸝⸝ Well that's until you, who doesn't seem to be that much avoidant of him, came along to his life. Anaxa is that one person that goes deep into denial when he has feelings for someone. "NO. WDYM I HAVE FEELINGS FOR THEM. FUCK."

⸝⸝ The rest of the Chrysos Heir found out about this when one random day, Anaxa suddenly came up to Hyacine and started asking her questions related to feelings that are leaning a little bit tooooo much on the romantic side (much to his dismay and denial). Even with his denial, he found himself coming up to the pink haired girl and asking her about this… Very foreign feeling of what she described as "butterflies fluttering in his stomach" and a suspiciously big grin on her face.

⸝⸝ Like Phainon, Anaxa doesn't escape the constant teasing from the Chrysos Heir for this, mainly Aglaea. She will devilishly giggle into her fingertips and make subtle jabs at him when she talks to you; "[name], do you have just any idea how breathtaking you are?" while giving Anaxa looks to which he responded with not only a glare but a suspiciously burning pair of ear tips <3

[endiness]

Yeah, anyway, friendly reminder that the OP is an alt-right account that made this post to incite the fanbase against Lauren and the show. The headline itself is misleading clickbait that was also meant to incite the fanbase against Lauren and the show. In the original article by Vulture, Lauren states that Henry Cavill was annoying because he was bugging her for the role before scripts had even been written yet (Henry Cavill had not even read the books when he was doing this, btw) and Henry Cavill himself said that he was being annoying.

Also, friendly reminder that Henry Cavill massively over-exaggerated how much of a fan he was of the franchise and how much he knew about it. He hadn't even read the books when he first sought out the role because he thought they were based off the video games, he didn't learn otherwise and even read the books until Lauren told him about them — and he only read the series once back in 2018 right before he was cast, and he's only really played the third game — which he hasn't even played the DLC for.

Also, by his own admission, he didn't actually do any research or preparation for the role at all.

“I asked my agent to put me on the spot and wanted to meet Lauren as soon as possible. I didn’t even need to prepare specially for the role. Because I breathe, I experience this universe every day. I’ve already had many opportunities to think about this character when I was playing the game. My preparation was already done before the casting even began!”

Henry Cavill also started the whole narrative about how important adhering to the source material is to him and how much he pushed for a more book accurate, verbose Geralt in the press for S2 in order to deflect from how he was the one who cut Geralt's lines in S1 in the first place, making his characterization inaccurate to the books. He also lied about the whole thing and tried to act like Geralt was never originally written as being as verbose as he is in the books when he was, he blamed Geralt's lack of dialogue on Yennefer and Ciri's prominence, and he tried to act like the lines he was cutting weren't that important anyway so it didn't really matter that he was cutting them.

Henry Cavill also created that whole narrative about how important the source material is to him as if Lauren's vision of the show was somehow in opposition to the books because he was actually just mad that that he was co-lead with two women and that the show revolves around women so much. (Just fyi for anyone who doesn't know, but Ciri is the main character of the main book series which the show started adapting from S2 onwards and women are central, key figures in the books to the point where the story could not exist without them.)

Henry Cavill was also directly responsible for, or at least had some hand in, a lot of the changes from the books. He cut Geralt's lines, as I've already said.

By his own admission, he didn't want to play Geralt and Jaskier's friendship as being as friendly as they are in the books. So, really, any kind of positivity about Geralt and Jaskier's relationship should solely be attributed to Joey and his performance, tbqfh, as he was the only one actually doing anything in their scenes.

Which even Henry Cavill himself basically admitted, js.

“Joey did all the work, I just had to take the right look and… we had a ready-made 'comedy.’”

Henry Cavill also cut a sex scene between Geralt and Yennefer in S2 because he didn't think it'd be in character of them to have sex after reuniting (it would've been, btw), he nixed the idea of Geralt and Triss even just platonically finding comfort in each other in S2 even though that happens in the books, and due to him not wanting to play Geralt struggling with fatherhood in any way in S2 nor with any character flaws and only positive character traits (because he was overcompensating for how he fucked up Geralt's characterization in S1) that led to the domino effect of Eskel's death, Yennefer's betrayal, and Voleth Meir being the big bad of the season.

Hope that helps!

Tells you everything you need to know about the people making these adaptations.

[woninggg]

Distraction—崔胜澈

You tag along to the gym with Seungcheol, but you’re more interested in watching him than actually working out(NSFW)

"Come on, you're just gonna sit there?" Seungcheol whined, tossing his towel over his broad shoulders.

You looked up from your phone, your eyes lazily tracing the contours of his muscular body as he moved through the empty gym. The overhead lights bounced off the sweat that beaded on his skin, creating a teasing glow.

You bit your lip, contemplating his question. The gym was not where you had planned to spend your afternoon, but here you were, tagging along with your boyfriend.

"I might just do that," you replied, smiling coyly. The coolness of the air conditioning kissed your skin as you leaned back on the bench. You knew it annoyed him when you didn't participate, but you also loved teasing him and who are you to resist. "Or maybe I'll just watch you."

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, but you caught the hint of a smirk. He knew you weren't one to pass up the opportunity to admire his physique. He grabbed a set of weights and began to do some bicep curls, flexing dramatically as he did so. You couldn't help but laugh.

The sound of metal clanking against metal filled the space as he continued his workout, his movements precise and rhythmic. Each flex of his muscles made you want him more.

The gym was the perfect stage for his performance, and you were his devoted audience of one. The scent of sweat and iron mingled with the faint scent of his cologne, making it even harder to ignore the heat building between you.

Seungcheol finished his set and approached you, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. "You still don't want to join in ?" He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

You feigned innocence, looking up at him with a smirk. "I'm having a good time watching."

"Is that so?" He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "Maybe I can find a way to make it more interesting for you."

With a swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his defined torso. Your gaze followed the trail of dampness that had soaked into the fabric, and you felt your mouth go dry. The muscles of his abs rippled as he tossed the shirt aside, and you had to resist the urge to reach out and trace the lines of his body with your fingers.

"Better?" he asked, a smug grin spreading across his face.

Your eyes roamed over the expanse of his bare chest, taking in the way the light danced across his defined abs. You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "Much."

He took a step closer, the warmth of his body washing over you like a wave. "Good," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I've got a little surprise for you."

With that, Seungcheol leaned down and scooped you up in his arms, the sudden motion making you let out a giggle. He carried you over to the nearby yoga mats, his biceps bulging with the effort. You squealed in surprise, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he placed you gently on the ground.

"Now, you're going to get a better show" he said playfully, the glint in his eyes told you that this was still all a game to him.

The coolness of the gym floor met your back as Seungcheol laid you down on the mat, his fingers tracing the line of your collarbone before retreating. He grabbed a pair of dumbbells, the metal cool against your palms as he placed them in your hands, trapping you. Your heart raced as he positioned himself over you, his bare chest mere inches away. The smell of sweat and cologne grew stronger, making it difficult to focus on anything but the heat of his body.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Seungcheol lowered himself down, placing his hands on the dumbbells. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck. "Ready?" he whispered.

Before you could respond, he pushed off the ground, his body hovering above you as he began to do push-ups. Each time he descended, the pressure on your chest increased, sending waves of sensation through your body. You could feel the muscles in his arms tensing and releasing, as he moved up and down. Your eyes remained locked on his, fighting the urge to look below the waistband of his shorts, where his boner was becoming increasingly obvious.

You watched in awe as Seungcheol's muscles contracted and expanded with each push-up, his eyes never leaving yours. His breath grew heavier, and he started calling your name.

"Look at you," he murmured, his words coming out in short bursts as he continued his exercise. "So beautiful, watching me like that."

"Come on, baby," he panted, his voice low and gruff. "Let's see how long you can keep those pretty hands to yourself."

The sound of his voice, thick with arousal, was like a siren's call, making it impossible for you to ignore the ache that had started to build between your legs. You felt your own body responding, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your gym bra, and your pussy growing wetter with every passing second.

"Fuck, baby," Seungcheol groaned, his eyes darkening as he stared into yours. "Your tits look so good in that bra." He paused mid-push up, his body hovering just above yours. "I bet you want me to touch them, don't you?"

Your breath caught in your throat as his words painted a vivid picture in your mind. Your hands, trembling gripped the side of the mat, the dumbbells long forgotten. You watched in a haze as Seungcheol's body moved above you, His skin was slick with sweat now, droplets beading and rolling down his chest, landing on your skin."You like watching me, don't you?"

He murmured, his eyes hooded with lust. The sound of his voice was like a caress, sending shivers down your spine. Each time he went down, you felt his cock brush against your thigh. You wanted to touch him, to feel the weight of him on top of you, to have his hands all over your body.

"cheol," you whispered, your voice thick with need. "Please."

He paused again, his body hovering just above yours, the heat from his skin setting you on fire. "What do you want, baby?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

Your eyes traveled down his body, taking in the sight of his arousal straining against his shorts. You bit your bottom lip, your heart racing. "I want you" you murmured, the words coming out as a desperate plea.

The sound of his breathing grew harsher, his abs tightening with each word that left his mouth. "Look how hard you're making me," he murmured, his eyes flickering down to the bulge in his shorts.

You couldn't take it anymore. You reached up interlocking your arms behind his neck, pulling him down into a messy kiss. The taste of his sweat mixed with the mint of his gum was intoxicating. His mouth was hot and eager, devouring yours as if he had been starving for it.

He groaned into your mouth, his body still moving rhythmically above you. The sensation of his cock sliding against your side was driving you wild.

Seungcheol's smirked, as he shifted his position slightly, the head of his cock now pressing against the side of your hip. "You want this, don't you?". He began to do push-ups again, each one slower and more deliberate. "You want to feel me inside you, don't you, baby?"

Breaking the kiss, you managed to get out, "Take these off." You nodded towards his shorts, the urgency in your voice clear.

Seungcheol chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours as he stood up, his abs flexing as he did. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down slowly, revealing his thick, hard cock.

Seungcheol's breath hissed out as you took him deep, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock. The sound of his pleasure spurred you on, and you began to bob your head, taking him in and out in a slow rhythm.

The taste of him filled your mouth, the salty sweetness making you moan around him. His hands found their way to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he guided your movements.

you got on your knees, gazing up at him, your mouth watering at the sight. You wrapped your hand around the base, feeling the warmth and power of his erection. You leaned in, taking a moment to admire the way the tip was flushed and glistening with pre-cum before taking him in your mouth.

You felt his muscles tighten as you took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing out as you sucked. His hips jerked slightly, and you knew you were driving him wild. The grip on your hair grew stronger, his breathing becoming more ragged with each stroke of your tongue. The veins in his cock throbbed against your lips, and you could feel his heart pounding through his cock.

You looked up at him through your lashes, watching the way his eyes rolled back in pleasure. The sight of him losing control was incredibly arousing, making you want to push him even further. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive head, teasing the slit before taking him back into your mouth, your teeth lightly grazing the underside.

Seungcheol's grip on your hair tightened as you deep-throated him, his hips bucking in response. His moans grew louder, echoing through the deserted gym. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, punctuated by his ragged breathing. You could feel his cock twitch and pulse in your mouth, a sign that he was close.

The salty taste of his pre-cum grew stronger as you sucked and licked, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. You could see the muscles in his thighs tightening as he fought the urge to come. It was a power play you both enjoyed, you pushing him to the edge and watching him struggle to hold back.

Seungcheol's hands tightened around your hair, his knuckles turning white as you worked him over. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat with every stroke, and you felt a thrill of satisfaction knowing how much he enjoyed it.

As you worked him with your mouth, one hand still stroking him, while the other slid up his thigh, feeling the muscles quiver beneath your touch.

Seungcheol's eyes locked onto yours, a silent plea for you to keep going.

You moaned around him, the vibrations adding to his pleasure as you increased your pace. His hips began to move in time with your mouth, his cock sliding in and out of your wet lips. You felt the tension in his body build again, his muscles coiling tighter and tighter. His breaths grew shallower, his chest heaving as he neared climax.

Seungcheol's body stiffened, and his breaths grew erratic as he approached the edge. You could feel his cock starting to swell in your mouth, his precum flowing more freely, he was close you wanted to watch him come apart in your hands.

You pulled back slightly, letting just the tip rest on your tongue, teasing him mercilessly. His eyes snapped open, meeting yours, and you could see the desperation in them.

The sound of his pleasure filled the empty gym, bouncing off the walls and echoing back to you. You felt a thrill of power knowing that you were the one causing this strong, in-control man to lose his composure.

"Please, baby," he panted, his voice strained. "don't do this to me"

With a wicked smile, you took him in again, sucking harder and faster.

You didn't stop, the vibrations from his voice adding to the delicious tension building in your own body. You could feel your own arousal seeping through your gym shorts, the fabric growing damp as your pussy ached for his touch.

With a final, desperate thrust, Seungcheol pulled out of your mouth, his cock bobbing in front of your face. "I'm going to cum," he warned, his voice a low growl. You nodded eagerly, your eyes never leaving his. You leaned back slightly, tilting your head back, giving him the perfect view of your tits as you waited.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, his voice strangled with pleasure. His legs quivered, and his abs clenched as you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock. "feels so good"

Seungcheol's hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it rapidly. With a loud groan, he came, thick ropes of cum shooting out and landing on your chest. The warmth of it made you gasp, your nipples tightening in response. You gasped as he painted your tits with his release, the sticky liquid coating your skin.

You sat back on your heels, watching the last of his orgasm pulse through him. His breathing was harsh, his body shaking with the aftermath of pleasure. You reached up with a trembling hand and touched the sticky mess on your chest, bringing your finger to your lips and tasting his release. The salty taste made your eyes roll back, and you couldn't help but moan.

"Fuck, baby," Seungcheol breathed, as he watched you lick your finger clean. The sight of you tasting him was too much for his still-sensitive cock, and it twitched with renewed interest. He stepped closer, his chest heaving with each breath, and you felt the heat of his body envelop you once again.

"Let's go home," you murmured, your voice a seductive whisper that sent a shiver down his spine. "I think we've had enough of a workout here."

Seungcheol's eyes widened with surprise, but the hunger in his gaze didn't fade. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself as he took in the sight of you on your knees, your chest covered in his cum.

"You're insatiable," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. "But if that's what you want..." He stepped back, letting his cock slap against his stomach as he reached for his shorts, making you bite your lip, You knew you'd both want more once you were home, but for now, you needed a break from the intense atmosphere of the gym.

[consultingfujoshi]

having some barely formed thoughts about the three severed women we know of (excluding o&d) and how they're all sort of experiencing their own misogynist hellscape and how severance not only exacerbates the existing struggles of women but reduces those women down to nothing but their suffering

gabby's innie exists purely to gestate and give birth to children and then is switched off again and never gets to raise or even meet her child until her husband decides it's time for the next one. episode 7 suggests gabby is not the only woman who has done this to herself. how many female innies exist just to be a walking baby incubator?

gemma is quite literally in hell. dozens of versions of her are being subjected to physical or psychological torture at the hands of the same white guy, at least one of which is in an endless performance of housewifery, her body given over to the hands of strangers, and she has to willingly walk into each room knowing anything could be happening to her in there and she will never know what, only that her alternate selves have literally never known anything except suffering. you did it to yourself, you asked for this.

and even when she tries to free herself she is immediately sent back by one of these innies who literally does not know what is going on and why she's here, and doesn’t know enough to question what she's being told. these women she becomes do not have the tools, the knowledge or agency, to fight back. if you'd known better, you'd have stopped it. why didn't you stop it? why weren't you smarter about it? why weren't you more careful?

tell me you love me before you go, sweetheart

and helly. she's more complicated but there's really something to be said about helena, a woman that by all accounts should see her as a sister, and uses that very idea to propagandise herself and inflate her own status, but in reality does not even see helly as human - she is constantly at the mercy of a woman far more affluent and powerful than herself who feigns care for her to the masses whilst happily subjecting her to torture. and then without that support from another woman, without that sense of solidarity, she seeks refuge in the arms of a man who can somewhat understand what she's going through because that feels like her only option, to gain approval or social standing through a man, but even that is hollow and it is soured by the very woman she is at the mercy of competing with her for that same man. she has been forced to place all her bets on the love of a man, like that'll prove she's real and worth something, and even that she can't have for herself

severance is used in all of these cases as a means of further dehumanising, objectifying, and reducing women down to their base biological functions and forces them to subject themselves to the whims of men. all in totally unique ways but all very real experiences that women go through every day, crytallised by having it quite literally be all they exist for. severance as just another tool to exert violence upon women

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug like angel

You're here, that's the thing

You woke up the next day.

You were on the fancy velvet family couch you were never allowed on.

The couch was where every movie night, every game night, and every family hangout would happen.

The same ones you'd never be invited to.

You looked up to see Bruce and Miguel sitting in the pristine, white dining room arguing over something.

They lowkey looked like a divorced couple fighting over the ustody of their child.

You let out a giggle at that thought.

You got up and tried to stabilize yourself, still healing from the stab wound from yesterday.

You had a runny nose and a slight sore throat from the rain yesterday.

You hated your spidey luck sometimes.

As you got closer to Miguel and Bruce, you could make out some of their argument.

"She's staying with us, it's for the best," Bruce said, crossing his arms.

"Since when do you decide what's good for her?" Miguel argued, standing up from the seat he was sitting on.

"I am her father. I decide what's best for her," Bruce said, still keeping a straight face.

"you haven't been a father to her at all." Bruce flinched slightly at Miguel's words.

Miguel continued, "You were never her father. You were nothing but a sperm donor." Miguel put his hand on his hips, his bold red eyes piercing into Bruce's blue ones.

"When were you when she needed you? Where were you on her birthday? Where were you at her performances and concerts? You don't know anything about her." Miguel slammed the table in front of him, and Bruce's neutral facade faltered.

"I am still her father. we are blood." Bruce raised his voice.

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

Miguel and Bruce were now full-on arguing.

A full-on screaming match.

You decided to intervene, you just wanted to go home.

"What's going on?" They both couldn't hear you, and you saw Miguel about to flip the expensive dining room table.

You weren't against him breaking anything Bruce owned, but that table cost way more than Miguel could afford.

You ran up to him "Hold on a minute, please won't you listen?"

They both stopped to look at you.

Bruce spoke up "Are you doing better now, sweetie?" You cringed at the nickname he gave you.

"I'm fine. What's going on?"

There was a tense silence for a moment.

"C'mon, spit it out. I wanna go home." You put your hands on your hips, copying Miguel's stance

"You're going to stay with us," Bruce said, his piercing blue eyes glaring at Miguel.

"What?! You can't do that! Dad, tell him he can't do that!" you pulled on Miguel's sleeve like a tall child

Miguel looked and you and looked away guiltily.

"Dad? What's going on? Tell him he can't force me to stay!" You were tearing up.

You didn't want to stay.

You didn't want to be back where everything went wrong.

You didn't want to see everyone play happy family while you sat in a corner sobbing.

"I'm sorry, but you're 16 and can't legally stay with me. I'm so sorry, arañanita." you tried to suppress your tears, only for them to all spill out when he hugged you.

You felt like a child.

"This isn't fair." your lip slightly trembled.

Bruce put a hand on your shoulder which made you flinch and push his hand away.

"Don't touch me." you shrunk into Miguel's arm more.

You hated being here. You just wanted to go home.

"Can't we agree on something else? Like maybe one week each person, or something?" you tried to reason

Bruce raised an eyebrow "What do you mean?"

"I mean like, one week with with Miggy and another with you. Wouldn't that be easier?"

Miguel was about to agree with you when Bruce interrupted "No."

"Why not? Everyone would be happy!" You tried to reason

"Because I'm your father and that's final."

You rolled your eyes at that.

"What?! That's so not fair!"

"life isn't fair." Bruce started practically pushing Miguel out the door.

You started clinging onto Miguel by his leg, you didn't want him to leave.

It took your father and your brothers to separate you and Miguel.As soon as Miguel left, you

ignored your family's offerings to hang out with them.

You were in your room, still sulking about what happened.

You were texting your friends everything.

You heard a knock at the door and tried to ignore it.

You weren't in the mood to talk to any of them.

After a couple of minutes of knocking, Bruce got impatient and let himself in."Why didn't you open the door?"

"I didn't feel like getting up." You kept texting your friends, not even looking at him.

He took a seat on the edge of your bed. "Look, since you're already here, why not go out? We could go to that one, uh, museum you wanted to go to a while ago." You glared at him.

"I asked to go there years ago. My friends already took me there."

"Oh, is there any other place you'd like to go? or anything you'd like to do?"

"I want you to go away. I'm sick and you just pulled me away from my friends." You kept scrolling on your phone

Bruce sighed and left your room.

Next to annoy you was Dick.

You were in the kitchen trying to get a snack when you heard his agitating, grating voice.

"Hey, baby bird!" He was going to ruffle your hair, but you swiftly avoided it due to your spidey senses.

"Don't call me that." You continued to look for your favorite snack.

"Why not?" he playfully pouted

You started giving up hope on finding the snack, it wasn't anywhere! "Because I said so."

He saw you were struggling to find something. "What are you looking for?"

"Nunya." you crossed your arms and started looking in the fridge.

"look, if you're hungry, we can go to that one restaurant you wanted to go to! How does that sound?" he smiled.

"I asked for that years ago. I already went there with Miguel anyway." You walked away into your room not caring how dick was slightly frowning.

You were in your room fixing your belongings.

If you're going to be forced to live here up till you're 18, you might as well make everything look nice.

While you were organizing your closet, your spidey senses went off.

You turned around to see it was warning you about the door, and suddenly Jason barged in.

"Get ready, I'm gonna teach you how to ride a motorcycle."

"No thanks, Jess already taught me." You continued to fold the clothes

"Who's Jess?" Jason raised an eyebrow

"A friend. Look, can you just leave me alone? I want some alone time."

"I'm your older brother, you can't kick me out of your room." He crossed his arms.

"Except I can. Get out." You started pushing him out of your room, your strength surprising him.

Tim was in his room when he remembered about that one time you asked him if he could fix your computer.

You accidentally gave it a virus downloading Sims mods, and it was tweaking.

Tim was the most tech-savvy person you knew, so you asked him.

Unfortunately for you, he was working on a tiring case.

He was in a bad mood and half-asleep, so it wasn't a surprise when he yelled at you to go away.

Sure, it had been 2 years since then, but he still felt bad.

He made his way to your room, noticing how separated it was from the others.

When he got to your room and opened your door (you seriously need to get a lock) he saw you were face timing one of your friends and laughing.

He cleared his throat and your smile fell.

"I'll call you back later, bye Pavi!" you hung up and looked at Tim "What do you want?"

He smirked "Wow, so hostile. Do you still need me to fix your computer? I have time now.

"You rolled your eyes. "it's fine now, peni fixed it for me."

"Are you sure? I could probably add an upgrade or two, or maybe get you a new one?" He put his hand on his neck

"Yes I'm sure, you can leave now." You shooed him away with your hands and started calling Pavitr again.

Tim scoffed and walked away.

Last but not least, Damian.

He was always a headache.

Ever since you were younger, it's like he was out to get you.

He wouldn't ignore you or push you away like the others, instead, he would threaten and berate you.

No matter how much you tried, he'd always go out of his way to push you around.

You learned to stay out of his way.

You assumed he would still hate you, so you continued to avoid him.

It was surprising when he walked up to your room and demanded you to watch him train.

Not wanting to get stabbed by him, you begrudgingly agreed.

You were being escorted into the training room and saw a chance to practice your moves.

While he wasn't looking, you snuck away to practice your tricks.

It was the perfect place to do it as well, huge gymnastics area, rock climbing walls, and hurdles.

You were having the time of your life!

After around 10 minutes you noticed Damian looking for you, with Dick helping him.

You sighed and continued practicing.

Your way of swinging and moving was Heavily inspired by Gwen and Pavitr's, all the spider kids trained together so it wasn't much of a surprise.

After training for a couple more minutes, you noticed Dick and Damian had found you.

Dick was surprised you knew how to be that flexible and have a lot of movement and personality in your tricks.

As soon as you sat down to take a water break, Dick and Damian ran up to you.

"Where did you learn how to move like that? did you do gymnastics?" Dick sat down next to you, only for you to scoot away.

"No. I learned from Pavi." You took another sip of your water

"Was he the one who came to the manor last year? The punk?" He took a sip of his water

"No, that's Hobie." you got up and walked away, ignoring Dicks other questions.

Dick just sighed in defeat and watched as Damian ran after you.

Damian would not leave you alone.

The whole way to your room, he was complaining and berating you.You tried slamming your door in his face, but he fought back.

Suddenly you were trying to push him out of your room like the others and he pushed a bag of yours onto the floor.

After a couple of minutes of you both tumbling around, he finally left.

You let out a sigh of relief and went to pick up the bag.

Once you picked it up you noticed it felt a slight bit heavier, less empty.

You grabbed what was making it so heavy and noticed it was a watch.

The watch you needed to move universes.

Miguel must've snuck it in there while dropping you off.

You put it on, and right as you were about to go back to Miguel's universe, your spidey senses went off yet again.

You quickly turned off the watch and pretended you were playing on your phone again.

This time it was Alfred.

You assumed he was going to scold you for fighting Damian yet again.

You prepared yourself only to be met with something you didn't expect.

"The others are expecting your presence in the theater room."

Movie nights.

The same movie nights you longed to be a part of years ago.

This time, you didn't want to be part of it.

"No thanks, I'm busy." You continued to scroll on your phone.

"You must've misheard me. They're requiring your presence." Alfred walked away before you could argue.

You sighed and put on some slippers.

This was gonna be a long two years.

hi ik rhis chapter is sloppy and rushes BUT THIS TIME I ACTUALLY HAVE EN EXCUSE

i typed all od this at a wedding lmfao

yeah rheyre mareying the love of their life but im updating a fic so whos really winning

anyway

taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!): @bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213 @sirenetheblogger @awawage @holybatflapexpert @vanessa-boo @ryuushou @whiskeygirl7 @seemeee3 @inojinieeee @oliviaewl @djpuppy-kittens @w31rd3rg1rl @br33zy-blizzardz @eyeless-kun @strangelymid @twismare @cat-lover-over-9000 @jaemindontberude @galaxypurplerose @paastaboi @senhoritaapple @whiskeygirl7 @chezze-its

[xeansicemane]

"So, Rose, run me through the dossier again?" I asked the AI assistant, re-checking my coat's onboard systems.

"Not sure what we're looking at here, seems like some ex-cop got into a supersoldier serum and yadda yadda yadda" the computer added the sounds of flipping pages for effect "and early reports say he's fully broken with reality, just doing violence to whoever he thinks he needs to, been tearing through the beach - Irons Brigade is another thirty minutes out, but Tidewater is already on scene"

"Is it going well?"

"No local feeds yet"

"Huh" I muttered to myself, shrugging my coat on, the reactive components all reading nominal. I took a deep breath, untensing my shoulders as I felt the autonomous trailer rumbling along the road, thank goodness for light traffic.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Rose you're reading my brainwave patterns you tell me" I answered not unkindly, this was an old routine between us as well as half the users of the system.

"You know you don't have to keep kayfabe if you don't want to - just a concerned citizen laying the law down can be the play"

I grimaced performatively at the mention of law. "Oh come /on/. I love the game - nah, he's on my turf and he didn't pay his dues. Let folks see how much I do for them, that's enough."

"You really love the PR work, don't you?" The flat robotic voice took on an edge of amusement

I stood, rolled my shoulders, and grabbed the handles that would facilitate my dramatic entry. "Like Presentation and Decoration says - ain't no reason to do this if we're not doing it with style."

The truck was driving down a city street, close to where the carnage was happening - the onboard AI had found a location that would allow the truck to block all obvious lines of sight on its' passenger side. The effect? Truck drives by, I suddenly appear as it passes. The mechanism? Frankly it was a waste of an inertial buffer field emitter but I thought it looked too cool not to do.

I cracked my neck, cursed the heavens that everyone else cleared for combat work was out of town for MAGfest, and turned, the truck turning off into a side road to reveal three burning cars and a heavily damaged pharmacy.

"Fuckers really got a hard-on for corner pharmacies don't they" I mumbled, the headset I was wearing keeping me connected to Rose and allowing an internal livestream - not a lot of the org was watching but it really wasn't for everyone.

"Truth, Justice, the American Way, and overpriced soda is how the saying goes down there, I think?"

I took off at a sustainable jog, scanning the wreckage and following the trail of broken paving concrete.

"Hrrrm" Rose said, something of concern in her voice "Looks like he had or has a weapon - parking meter is my guess."

"And he was just roid-rage pounding it into the ground, lovely." I said, keeping my breath even as I kept the jog up.

"Hey! Fuck you!!!" A concerned citizen said as they sprinted in the other direction. Okay I was close.

I heard something crash, something break, and gunfire.

I picked up the pace, transitioning into a skating motion, keeping a thin layer of solid oxygen between me and the ground - easier to find than water and the leidenfrost effect keeps you up wonderfully.

"Hey! Kick that guys' ass!" Another citizen yelled, camera out. I smiled, winked and pushed on to the beach, slowing into a run again.

The scene did not instill confidence. There was a man with his back turned to me, shoulders, hips and long muscles all bulging in the worst way I could imagine, veins glowing red. I surmised this was my target.

"So what happened to not littering?" I asked, high school theater stint yet again coming to my aid - one really must project when issuing a challenge.

He snapped around and stared at me like he was about to eat me. Several bullet holes were visible, none were slowing him down as he whipped up the parking meter to point at me.

"You. I knew you'd come, freak" He was seething, spitting even with those words. My headset had finished compiling data - his body suggested his metabolism was running too hot for purely biological processes - joy of joys he was paracausal, great.

I snorted loudly, mics were good these days but presentation needed work. "Whatever. You're on Korps turf. My turf in particular. Mayhem, damage and destruction is my gig around here. Scram and find some where else to lay a claim".

"Fuck off-" he screamed as he tore the leg off a lifeguard station and threw it at me, I caught another syllable as he was starting a slur but the noise of the structure coming apart covered it.

One of the fun things about being able to fuck with temperature is I could fuck with air pressure, enough air pressure and I could fuck with wind. Enough wind and I could redirect a thrown chunk of wood.

I was already approaching him, skating was a no-go on sand but I could manage a sprint when needed. My target was behind him and to the right, the crumpled form of Tidewater. He was a good kid, in his 20s, mixed up with the wrong crowd but a good heart.

A few carefully timed freezing blasts locked the berserker's joints for just long enough for me to scoop up Tidewater and keep the sprint, dropping a few dozen square meter patch of slick water ice without looking back.

"Hey, kid, you doing okay?"

He didn't answer, I slowed, controlled my breathing, and layed my hand against his back, turning just enough for my visor to get a scan of his neck. Nothing. Couldn't feel a heartbeat and sensors were showing zero electrical activity. I dropped to a knee and laid him on the ground.

"Okay okay okay fuck okay, just gotta cool him off for the medics to get to and"

"Jötunn" Just one word, my name spoken soft and human, from Rose.

I'd carefully not been looking at the chest - caved in. Caught the parking meter dead center of his sternum. His entire cardiopulmonary system had to be pulp.

"Okay. Shit. Rose shut that down. Access permissions 298 stroke midnight stroke ocean" I said, getting back to my feet, shivering stopping halfway through. I didn't like doing this, blackboxing a single emotion wasn't possible but the neuro folks had worked out how to temporarily induce a depersonalized state - I still felt grief over the the loss of this on again off again rival, but it was a million miles away. I could focus. I could ugly cry back at base. My coat caught something, a rock thrown hard enough to break ribs if the carbon substrait hadn't solidified in response to the force.

I turned, he was ten yards away in a dead sprint.

Cryokinesis is often considered pyrokinesis's under-performing cousin. I couldn't reduce a tank to a puddle of slag or melt through a pair of handcuffs at will. The techs back at base would rib me by asking me to cool their drinks.

But I want you to ask yourself, what happens if you rapidly condense the air? Cool it off enough it becomes a liquid. 11 liters of air suddenly becoming one-thousandth the volume.

Now imagine I can do that to 100,000 liters of air.

I can't melt a tank, but if I have the mind to I can reduce the internal atmosphere to a functional vacuum.

The sound was almost exactly like an explosion going off half a meter behind him. It was, just going the other way. The implosion ripped him off his feet while the ice around my ankles dug into the ground kept me in place.

He was still trying to get back on his feet when the first refrigerator sized brick of ice hit him. The second knocked him back down, the third dissuaded further attempts, and the fourth was for show. I stepped closer, focusing on pulling energy out of the ice block on top of him, shaping it into a single mass. I could feel his heat right until I couldn't. Liquid oxygen and nitrogen was running down the sides of the mass, the water condensation forming a cloud suitable to hide me.

"That was for Tidewater, ass. Rose, blockers off. We need a wake back at base." I felt the pain hit me, my chest tightening. I turned and stalked off, towards the extraction point. I heard sirens and I didn't care, the news showed a grief-stricken baddie and I didn't care.

You pretend to be a small-time villain. At most, you annoy the local supers, but your crimes never hurt anyone. To you it's all good fun. Things change when a truly sadistic supervillain invades your turf and murders a few of the supers. No one has seen the extent of your true powers until now.

[bambambwi]

I wanna try too!

Recently, your boyfriend, Kwon Ji Yong aka G-Dragon, went viral on TikTok for his bold new fashion style and you wanted to try it out as well.

You were at home, mindlessly scrolling through your TikTok feed out of boredom when a particular video suddenly caught your attention.

It was a video of someone dressing up like your boyfriend. You thought it was cute, so you started scrolling through similar videos, amused by how many people were recreating his look. And the more you scrolled, the more videos you found of fans imitating ji yong’s bold new style, breaking down his outfit choices, and even joking about how only he could pull off such daring fashion.

And that’s when an idea struck you.

Smirking to yourself, you got up and walked over to the closet you shared with ji yong, browsing through his outfits in search of the perfect one. If everyone else was recreating his look, why not join in on the fun?

You found yourself wearing a soft patterned cardigan layered over a shirt, paired with blue flared pants. Stepping in front of the mirror, you examined your reflection, tilting your head. Something was missing.

Glancing back into the closet, your eyes landed on a headscarf tucked between ji yong’s accessories. A smirk tugged at your lips it was the perfect finishing touch.

While you were busy adding the final touches to your outfit, the front door clicked open. You didn’t hear it at first, too focused on adjusting the headscarf.

ji yong stepped inside, expecting to find you in the living room, but the space was empty. His brows furrowed slightly as he set down his keys, glancing around.

“y/n?” he called out, but there was no response.

Curious, he made his way toward your shared bedroom, pushing the door open. The sight that greeted him made him stop in his tracks.

There you were, standing in front of the mirror, fully dressed in his signature style soft patterned cardigan, layered shirt, blue flared pants, and now, the headscarf tied perfectly into place.

Just as he saw you, he couldn't help but burst into laughter, collapsing onto the floor. His laughter rang out,  holding onto his stomach, almost breathless.

“You—” He managed between laughs, wiping his eyes. “You’re so cute.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow as you struck another playful pose in the mirror. 

ji yong grinned and without missing a beat, he skipped toward you, pulling out his phone.

“Hold that pose!” he said, snapping pictures of you as you stood there, playing along. He couldn't stop smiling as he captured the moment.

As ji yong scrolled through the pictures he had taken, his eyes kept flicking back to you, who was busy admiring your outfit in the mirror. The sight of you so confidently rocking his style made his heart swell, and before you knew it, he couldn’t hold back the cutie aggression he had for you and scooped you up in his arms and smothered your face with kisses.

You squealed, trying to wriggle away between laughter but he was relentless, pressing playful kisses all over your cheeks, forehead, and even your nose.

“You’re adorable!” he said between each kiss, his voice full of affection.

After smothering you with kisses, he finally let you go, his grin still wide as he stepped back to catch his breath. You playfully brushed yourself off, trying to act nonchalant, but an idea quickly sparked in your mind.

You playfully mimicked his moves from power but kept it light and silly with exaggerated gestures and some goofy spins.

ji yong watched you, barely able to contain his laughter. “Oh my god,” he gasped, laughing so hard he almost fell over again. “You’re killing me, do it one more time, I need to record this!”

He quickly pulled out his phone, grinning ear to ear, ready to capture your cute and playful performance once again.

After recording your playful dance, he watched the video, his laughter bubbling up once more as he glanced back at you. Still grinning, he couldn’t resist pulling you into his arms, nuzzling into your neck with a soft chuckle.

The sudden closeness made you laugh, but before you could speak, ji yong lost his balance and in a playful tumble, both of you fell onto the bed, him landing flat on top of you.

You let out a surprised yell, the shock of his weight making you both burst into even more laughter. He looked down at you, still on top, his face inches from yours as he smirked. “Whoops” he said, barely able to keep his own laughter in check.

ji yong grinned down at you, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Oh, no, you’re not getting away today” he said, his voice teasing but full of warmth.

He settled more comfortably on top of you, his arms trapping you in a cozy, playful hold. “Why are you so cute?’’ he said with his smile softening as he nuzzled against you again.

You laughed, but there was no escaping the snug, warm embrace as he stayed right where he was, making sure you couldn’t get up anytime soon.

[smutoperator]

Snake Charmer

Kim Minjeong (Winter) x Male Reader

Tags: arabian nights, belly bulging, belly dancer, blowjob, creampie, cum on midriff, fast-paced sex, footjob, loud sex, quickie, snake (literally and figuratevelly), stripping

Word count: 3164

It was a cold, lonely night in the desert. Nobody seemed to be in your sight, just an endless horizon full of sand. You were so desperate that you started seeing what looked like a tent playing an electronic beat as if a rave was playing inside it. Surely it must have been a mirage, you thought.

As you entered the tent, you saw a girl performing in an outfit that left her belly very exposed.

The girl dancer performed the electronic song in a way that made her look like those belly dancers coming straight from those Arabian nights tales. Soon, she grabbed a black mamba snake from a basket and started playing with it, showing no fear and handling it like it was just a walk in the park.

The dancer kept playing with the snake as she continued her performance, her cuteness contrasting with the bulky reptile that ran through her body. Her midriff moved in such a sexy manner, meanwhile, her face was all smiles, a truly impressive duality that had you slowly falling in love with her.

The music stopped and the dancer finished her performance, immediately turning in your direction as she pushed the snake back into the basket. "Looks like I have an audience for today," she said. "That's quite rare here in the middle of the desert," she continued.

"Do you perform this dance every day?" you asked the dancer. "Yes, me and my friends do that every day hoping to charm someone to build a harem with us," she said. "Your friend? So you're not alone in this tent?" you ask her. "No, they had to go to the city, but they'll be back tomorrow morning," she answered.

"By the way, I haven't even asked your name yet," you said to her. "My name is Minjeong, but you can also call me Winter," she answered. "Winter, such a beautiful name," you said to her. "Thank you," she replied.

"Wanna watch me dance a little more?" Winter asked you. "Sure, do your thing," you told her. Winter resumed dancing, bringing the mamba back from the basket and running it all over her body once again. She teased you, making very seductive moves with her tummy that drove you insane, making you wonder how she hadn't found anyone yet to occupy that harem.

Winter shook her cute little ass a bit and then started taking off parts of her bedlah as the performance went on, starting with her top, leaving you shocked as she left her torso fully exposed to you while dancing, from her perky little tits all the way down to her sexy navel. She wrapped the snake around her midriff and then picked up a recipient with the shape of a magical lamp, pouring some oil over her fit body, leaving you in utter disbelief at the scene you were watching.

Winter continued to strip her bedlah off, next taking off her long skirt, leaving just her hip scarf. Soon enough, that was gone as well, leaving Winter wearing just a belly chain and a thong that could barely cover her genitalia, giving you a hand signal to come close to her.

Minjeong walked in your direction, getting her body on top of the couch you were sitting on, the black mamba now wrapped around her shoulders. "Looks like that's not the only snake I can charm," she said, running her hands over your already throbbing cock under your pants.

"Get up," Winter commanded as you two started sharing kisses. You still couldn't believe what was in front of your eyes, maybe it was just another mirage, but her touch felt amazing. She quickly took off your shirt, running her hands over your torso while you worshipped her beautiful midriff. You were much taller than her, meaning her sexy tummy rubbed all over your clothed crotch, building your erection even further and getting you increasingly hard as you two touched each other.

"Let me show you my snake-charming abilities," Winter said, getting on her knees and pulling your pants down, unveiling your already throbbing anaconda. She teased it very slowly, giving a couple of licks to the tip of your cock, which were already driving you insane.

It didn't take long for Minjeong to make faster moves, performing an impressive no-hands blowjob as she slowly put more and more of your length in her mouth, reaching closer to a third of it as she sensually moved her body while sucking your cock, making her belly chain produce a rattling sound that turned you on even further.

Winter deepthroated your cock for the first time. "Such a delicious snake," she said once she finished it, switching from her slow-paced blowjob into a fast-paced one coupled with jerking off of your cock while staring at you with her puppy eyes.

Minjeong spat all over your cock as she continued to suck it off, now moving into the side of your shaft, before licking your tip like she was eating ice cream, then diving down to your balls while stroking that anaconda, switching to a little hand massage on your shaft before moving back to a no-hands cocksucking that she finished with an impeccable deepthroat.

"Oh shit," you groaned as Minjeong's deepthroat sent shivers down your spine. She rubbed her hands on your torso as she kept bobbing her head on your cock, giving special attention to the tip and deepthroating your shaft from time to time, making it wetter and wetter with lots of spitting.

Winter got back up and started kissing you again, the tip of your cock rubbing against her navel as your bodies collided with each other. You reached your hands into her pink pussy for the first time, making her let out some soft moans. "I'll let you do anything with me today, I'm all yours, I want you to join this harem," she said.

"Sit down, you're in for a treat tonight," Winter told you as you lay back on the couch. She quickly dove into your balls, ready to start another round of her soft yet amazing blowjob with her beautiful cute mouth, licking your shaft from top to bottom and then making rounds around the tip.

Winter jerks off your cock. "So big, so nice, can't wait to get this ready for my pussy," she says, licking your tip a little more then bobbing her head up and down it, going slowly deeper into it as she keeps spitting on your cock. "Your dick is so nice and big, I've been waiting to have one of these in my mouth for so long," she says as she moves her tongue around your shaft, before teasing it as she rubs your cock around her navel, getting you to throb even more.

"Oh my God," you groan as Winter circles your cock around. "Do you want to get it in my pussy?" she asks. "Oh fuck, definitely," you answer her as she continues to suck it off.

"Let's get it a little bit harder, shall we?" Winter says as she starts stroking your shaft with her beautiful feet. "Fuck, that's such a good massage," you tell her as she quickly moves her toes around your cock, making your tip pop in and out of your foreskin. "Fuck, that feels so good, just keep going, keep stroking that cock," you tell her, Winter smiling as your cock is throbbing red now.

You thrust into Minjeong's feet, making her very excited. "I want you to do this in my pussy," she says, circling her toes around your cock as you move your hips. She then puts her feet on top of your shaft, massaging them hard and pushing you to the edge, her long nails hitting the most sensitive parts of your tip.

"Oh yeah, it seems like this snake is finally big enough for me to sit on it," Winter proclaims as she lets you take your cock into her pussy, sitting on it in on go and bouncing hard on it. "OH YEAH, OH YEAH, OH SHIT," she moans as you impale her pussy hard. "SO GOOD, SO GOOD, YES, YES, AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH, OH MY GOD," she screams, pressing her hands on your chest and quickly losing her breath as your big pole shapes the insides of her cunt.

But Winter stays committed, pushing hard even if your cock seems to feel a little too big for her. "AHHH FUCK, I CAN FEEL IT BULGING UNDER MY STOMACH, IT FEELS SO GOOD," Winter says, you two just closing your eyes and enjoying the ride. "YES I LIKE THAT SO MUCH, IT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD," she continues to moan.

"Oh shit," you groan again as Winter's tight walls squeeze your cock. "You like that tight pussy?" she asks you as she keeps riding your cock, losing her breath as she can feel it right in her tummy. "OH SHIT, YES, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT," she keeps begging and moaning, fingering her tight pussy and repeatedly opening and closing her legs as she moves all over your cock.

You can't resist and soon start thrusting into Minjeong's tight pink pussy. "OH I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING," she announces as you pump her pussy up. "OH YES BABY, FUCK THAT PUSSY," Winter commands, meeting your thrusts with bounces of her own. "FUCK YOU FEEL SO YUMMY IN MY TUMMY," she moans, feeling your monster bulge once again.

Winter pops your cock out of her pussy and gets herself in a missionary position. "I want you to see you bulging under my stomach, show me how deep your big cock can go inside me," she begs as you grab her left leg up and quickly put your cock back in her pussy. "AHHHHH," she instantly moans, caught by surprise as you attack her cunt at full speed from the start.

"OHHHHH FUCKKKK," Winter moans and grins her teeth as her body bounces hard with your fast thrusts. "You said you wanted it like that, don't complain now," you tell her as you thrust so hard your cock briefly pulls out of her pussy. "Yes, baby, keep going, wreck this tight little pussy," she begs, losing her breath as she speaks.

"AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, YES, YES, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, HARDER, HARDER," Winter begs as you use her body to your pleasure nonstop, your balls clapping hard against her clit as you deliver her some powerful thrusts. "FUCK BABY, OH MY GOD, FUCK ME HARD, AHHHHHH," she screams, sticking her tongue out like a begging puppy as you keep destroying her little pink pussy.

"OH MY GOD, MAKE ME TAKE IT, YES, YES, YES, POUND ME HARD," Winter pegs, you spreading her legs to the fullest and hitting her pussy at every different angle. "Oh fuck," you groan again before resuming destroying her cunt. "AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she screams, you teasing her rubbing your shaft in her clit briefly before putting it back inside her.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Winter screams so loud you're glad you two are in the middle of the desert with no one to hear it, you pushing her legs in the direction of her body and completely dominating me. "THE WAY YOU USE ME IS SO FUCKING GOOD, FUCK" she screams.

"AH YES, FUCKING MAKE ME TAKE IT," Winter screams as you use her pussy so hard you need a little break not to exhaust yourself, diving as you lick her pink hole and tongue her clit hard. "UHHHH YEAH, FUCK, YOU EAT MY PUSSY SO GOOD," she moans as your face gets buried into her entrance, making her legs shake, Minjeong massaging your back while she gets eaten out.

"Spread that asshole for me," you tell Winter, diving next into tonguing her pink anus, giving a couple of licks up into her pussy. "I want you to put your finger in my ass," she begs. You do as she asks, shoving your middle finger up Minjeong's butthole and massaging it.

"Damn it's tighter than your pussy," you tell her. "Yes, I've never been fucked in the ass, but I love the sensation of getting fingered in it, especially with you eating my pussy AHHHHH FUCK," Winter moans as she spreads her legs and lets you please both her holes with your finger and your mouth. "Oh FUCK, IT FEELS LIKE I'M IN HEAVEN," she says as you give her the double stimulation she needs, Winter's flexible body contracting and trembling all over the couch.

Winter gets back on her knees, ready to suck your cock once more. But you have different plans, grabbing her hair and pounding her face as soon as she gets on her knees. "Oh fuck yes," you say, turning Winter's mouth into your free-use fuckhole as you watch her face turn red while your cock bulges under her cute cheeks.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," you groan as you make Winter gag on your cock, not holding back as her face gets plowed. You keep teasing her, slapping your cock in her tummy before going back to make her choke on it. Winter gets back up, hungry for more. "I need it back in my pussy," she begs, lifting one of her legs as she positions herself close to your lap.

Before getting your cock back in Winter's wonderful pussy, you tease it with a little slap in her entrance. Her pussy is so tight you struggle a bit to put it back in, but as soon as you do, you grab her right leg and start thrusting immediately. "OH FUCK," Winter moans as soon as she feels your cock back to shaping her inner walls.

Winter sexily looks in your eye as she wraps one of her hands around your neck, using the other hand to grab a curtain in the room as she tries to cope with your fast thrusts. You reciprocate and grab her neck. "FUCK YES, FUCK THAT LITTLE PUSSY, OH MY GOD I'M GONNA CUM, JUST FUCK ME, JUST FUCK ME PLEASE, I'M GONNA CUM, FUCKKKKK, AHHHHH," she moans loudly as you also finger her pussy.

"OH MY GOD, YES, YES, DON'T STOP," Winter begs as she starts to lose her balance. "AHHHH YES, FUCK, FUCK, OH MY GOD," Winter screams, trying to hold onto your body and the curtain at all costs as she turns into a screaming machine, your cock bulging under her belly more than ever. "OH, OH, OH, OH," she can't stop moaning, her walls taking the shape of your cock at each hard thrust you deliver into her pussy.

"YES, YES, YES, FUCK THAT PUSSY," Winter begs as you massage her clit hard and pushes her legs further upward, fucking her like a man on a mission. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, the more I hit that pussy the tighter it gets," you tell her. "AHHHHH FUCKKKK," she continues to scream.

Winter drops back to the couch as she's so overwhelmed with your poundings she can barely stay on her feet. She positions herself sideways, allowing you to penetrate her pussy in a spooning position. "OH GOD, AHHHHHHH," Winter screams as you quickly go back to clap her cheeks. "OH MY GOD IT'S SO FUCKING BIG," she keeps screaming, you getting crazier and crazier, attacking her pussy like there is no tomorrow and making her lose her breath. "Shit," you groan, still amazed by her pussy's tightness, more so as Winter's cunt starts queefing with your hard thrusts. "That's it, I'm gonna pound that pink pussy until I fucking cum inside it," you tell her.

"Bend over," you command to Winter as she gets on all fours on the couch. "Perfect," you tell her, grabbing her waist as you guide your cock back into her pussy. "Holy shit," you say as her tight hole wraps around your shaft one more time. "FUCK, THAT'S SO BIG," she screams again.

"Bounce on that cock" you tell Winter, letting her move her hips by herself. "Work those hips," you keep telling her as you start giving some slaps to her butt. "Oh yeah slap my ass," she tells you, closing her eyes and moaning as you time your spanking with the movement of her hips, Winter showing you her sexy abilities to move them just like when she was dancing for you moments ago.

"AHHHH FUCK, OH MY GOD YES," Minjeong screams as you grab her hair and spank her ass, she moves her hips the more you spank her, leading you to attempt to tame her with more fast thrusts as Winter keeps getting pounded into oblivion. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE DESTROYING MY TIGHT LITTLE PUSSY," she screams.

"There you go, that's it, oh fuck," you groan as Winter keeps moving her hips. "OH GODDD," she screams as she works on your cock. "Yes, that's it, fuck, fuck, show me how much you like that big cock, cute little girl," you tell her as Winter switches into longer, deeper moves. "You like that?" she asks you. "Yes, baby, I love it," you answer her.

"Your big cock feels so good stretching my pussy," Winter tells you as she pushes you closer and closer to cumming. "Nice and slow, keep moving like that, I'm gonna cum, oh shit," you tell her. "Then I want you to cum in my yummy tummy," Winter tells you.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," you tell Winter just in time for her to flip herself around, offering you her beautiful belly to get covered in your white seed. "OHHHH SHITTTT," you loudly scream as endless ropes of cum cover Minjeong's midriff, you enjoying the work of art you left as you painted her tummy.

"I'm not done yet," you tell Winter. Your still hard cock finds its way to her pussy one more time. "I'm gonna cover this tight little pussy with cum too," you tell her. "Yes, please, baby, fill me up, AH, AH, AH, AH," Winter begs as you attack her pussy like crazy. "Fuck, Fuck," you groan. "YES, YES, YOU FEEL SO GOOD IN MY TUMMY," she says as your bulging prick pokes under her cum-covered belly.

"Fuck that was quick, I'm gonna cum again," you tell Winter, unleashing a second load in her tight pink pussy. "Holy shit, this was intense," Winter tells you as your cum oozes out of her cunt. "You can sleep here tonight, but make sure my unnies don't see you," she tells you. "Alright," you oblige, Winter indicating a place in the tent where you can hide.

The night passes by and a new day arrives. As you open your eyes, you see Minjeong once again with the snake wrapped around her body, but she's no longer alone. Three more girls surround you. One of them is already jerking your cock off, a tall woman with her big boobs already out in the open, who is also the first to speak.

"Welcome to your harem," she says.

[totallyxtaurus]

Depollute me, gentle angel

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst (I guess, I'm not sure lol) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide A/N: Soo I was going to make a fluffy/smutty story but my PMDD hit me hard af and then BOOM, this. This was super hard yet easy to write at the same time probably because it's a self insert lol like this is literally me. Sylus' "perfect" persona does intimidate me and I grappled with the thoughts of "what if Sylus was real, could he actually handle this?" I hope everyone enjoys and please please please remember to take care of yourselves! 💗

When was the last time you crawled out of bed today? Your stomach twisting, hunger pangs turn into nausea. But the thought of forcing your limbs to carry you into the kitchen for food feels insufferable. So, you stay buried in the tangle of unmade, unwashed sheets. A hint of fabric softener desperately clinging to the fibers, the stale scent of sweat and skin already taking over. Earlier, you pressed your nose into your shoulder, checking. The sweet floral deodorant from days ago (you think) has spoiled into something sour.  

Each day and sleepless night blend together. They become hard to tell apart, except when the phone rings. Work is calling again—probably to ask when you’ll be back in or to terminate you. You know you should care—you do care! Well, you used to. You liked your job; you were good at it. But does it bring you joy? Right now, does anything?

Everything feels like a chore that you can’t be bothered to attempt. Showering? The thought alone is exhausting. But thinking about the steps that come before the shower is enough to make you sit in your own filth. You reach up absently. Your fingers get lost in the greasy roots and tangle in the mess below. Dandruff flakes dust your pillow. You picked at your scalp while scrolling for hours. Anything to pull you out of this pit you’ve fallen into, for a moment of relief. Your stomach churns each time your tongue touches the slimy coating that has built up on your teeth. Panic spikes at the thought of cavities—the decay, a reminder of neglect. Yet, there you lie, paralyzed by your own anxieties. God, you want to move. You really do. But then you tell yourself, I’ll brush them after I eat, for sure. You know it’s a lie. But it makes the guilt easier to swallow.  

These bouts come and go, pulled in by a force you can’t escape—because you are the force. Like the moon dragging in the tides, summoning waves too strong to withstand. When you’re up, you trick yourself into thinking that you have it all together, like you’ve cracked some secret code. You throw yourself into work, into people, an endless loop on performance mode. Blissfully numb. Until the crash. The tide swells too high, knocking you under and swallowing you whole. Then you’re here, again. Bedridden. Isolated. Time slips through your fingers. Days, weeks—who knows how long. Until someone notices your absence. Usually, him. Then you have to explain why you vanished and begin to collect the pieces of you that have washed back ashore.

“You should trust Sylus more," your therapist had said, voice gentle but firm. “Let him in during these episodes. He wants to help you.”  

You nodded, pretending to consider it, not missing the way they emphasized the "want to help you" part. But the idea was absurd, laughable. Let Sylus see you like this? No, it’s better this way. You can keep your dignity and him, a win-win situation.

This episode—as your therapist calls it—came at the perfect time. Sylus is away on a business trip, conveniently absent when you’ve sunk to your lowest. He gives you roughly three days of no contact before the constant calls start rolling in. This time, luck was on your side, a twisted kind of luck, but still one that was to your advantage. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror that he’d feel if he saw you like this.

Undeserving. That’s the only word that comes to mind when you think of Sylus, especially in moments like these.

Sylus, the man who has everything—and if he doesn’t, he simply acquires it. Always composed, always in control. He’s the kind of person who seems to glide through life, untouchable. You can’t imagine him unraveling, not like this. No, if he ever stumbled, he’d just power through it. There are no obstacles he can’t overcome.  

Until you.

You are the only thing he can’t fix. A threat to the pristine world he’s built. Thankfully, he hasn’t seen you like this, and he never will. He can’t.

Your therapist says your way of thinking is the problem. You don’t let him in. You don’t give him a chance to understand. Your therapist doesn’t know Sylus like you do. What if he does understand—but secretly believes you’re too much? And knowing Sylus, what if he doesn’t leave, but worse—stays out of obligation? Out of pity?

Your chest begins to tighten at the thought, your heartbeat picking up. You’d rather disappear completely than let him see you like this.

But before you can spiral any further, the doorbell rings.

[ladykailitha]

Murder in the Heartland Part 1

Here it is, the most wonderfully insane idea I've ever come up with and I've had some whoppers (Steve in a mental institution and Vecna's Timeloop from Hell for example). This is still the wildest. Only that's a twist that's coming up way down the line. My wonderful discord peeps @forgottenkanji, @dreamercec, @bookworm0690 know all, but you'd have to join my discord to be in on the secret (there are other lurkers there who might know, but they might not *shrug*).

Summary: When a serial killer strikes Hawkins, the police zero in on Eddie Munson. But when the last would-be victim Robin Buckley says that it Jason Carver who was trying to kill her and not Eddie, the police are further put in their place by an anonymous tipper who did all the work they should have done instead of going after clearly innocent Eddie. So Eddie becomes a PI to find this anonymous tipper. Featuring Mystery Writer Steve, who will play into the later plot. ;)

You will see snippets of Steve as the story goes on, but it will be Eddie's story for about 2/3 of it. It is also set in canon time for reasons that will become clear as the story goes on.

~

Interviewer: I’m here with Steve Harrington who has put just put out his seven novel in the thrilling Joe Keery books, ‘The Hollow Promise’. How are you this morning?

Steve chuckled: I’m tired. I’m a writer, I spend all my nights writing and my days sleeping, so this is a little outside my normal waking hours.

Interviewer: Gosh I wish I could do that, but I chose to have a morning talk show instead. Won’t you tell the listeners about your latest book.”

Steve: It’s about a series of murders in a small town and our hero comes to town to investigate and finds a bigger mystery than he anticipated.

~

Eddie’s life went to hell the day Steve Harrington blew town. Not that he would find that out until years later. But then again people were more preoccupied with Robin Buckley swearing up and down that Jason Carver who had been trying to kill her and not Eddie than remember a kid being thrown out of his parents place for being gay so... yeah.

Well, okay, so his life had been hell a little bit before Steve blew town. But that wasn’t as interesting an opening as the day Steve blew town. So he still had a flare for the dramatic, sue him. After all it was that flare that made him become a private investigator in the first place.

When Chrissy Cunningham had been murdered just after Eddie dealt her Special K, that made him the prime suspect in her death.

Which, rude.

She had been dealing with some pretty fucked up shit. Like being queer in a small town levels of shit on top of her mom being constantly on about her weight and her boyfriend pressuring her wear a promise ring. In high school.

Then another student died. A boy on the basketball team, Patrick McKinney, who someone else claimed had bought steroids off Eddie. Which couldn’t have been true, not if it was performance enhancing drugs. He had offered to sell them to high schoolers when he first started dealing, but Rick assured him he already had someone for that.

Then another girl died. Someone Eddie hadn’t known. He knew of her. But she wasn’t even in any of his classes, in any of his senior years. She also didn’t do drugs. Hell, Molly Masters was a known Straight Edger. She wouldn’t have gone near Eddie unless she wanted to throw hands.

Which is why he was blamed for her death, actually. They insinuated that she had finally had enough of his drug dealing ways and had gone after him.

He even had an alibi for that one, not that it mattered. Playing in front of five random drunks and a stingy ass bartender wasn’t exactly as air tight as it could have been. Because as far as witnesses go, they were pretty shit.

Then Barb Holland died. And that was a kick in the teeth. He knew who she was but only in a tenuous ‘best friend of the girlfriend of the most popular boy in school’ kind of way. Eddie was starting to see the pattern, even if the cops didn’t.

Then the final one which ended in the death of Jason Carver, Chrissy’s boyfriend. Only Robin Buckley was still very much alive.

But for the those first three days, she was in a coma. So the police spun the narrative that Eddie had been trying to kill her when Jason had interrupted them; saving her life, but losing his in the process.

Until she woke up and blew the whole investigation out of the water.

“I’m telling you Jason Carver was trying to kill me,” she said for the tenth time to a motley crew of Hopper, Powell, and Callahan from her hospital bed.

“Now why would he go and do a thing like that for?” Powell huffed. “Jason was a good, upstanding young man. Captain of the basketball team. He loved Chrissy. He wouldn’t hurt her. Not for anything.”

Robin let out a long sigh of frustration and buried her head in her hands. She looked up at them, weighing her options before she finally snapped, “Because I’m a lesbian!”

They stared at her blankly.

“Apparently Chrissy was too and that’s why he killed her.”

“You telling me that Jason Carver, all American boy next door was a murderer killing queer kids?” Callahan huffed in disbelief. “There’s no way.”

“And I’m telling you it’s true,” Robin hissed. “Plus whoever saved my life and killed the rat bastard wasn’t Eddie Munson.” She crossed her arms over her chest and settled into the bed, grumpy.

Hopper pinched his nose. “Let’s say we follow this line of inquiry, why do you believe Eddie Munson wasn’t involved at all. You keep saying you never saw your rescuer’s face.”

She looked up at him like he was stupid. “Because the guy that took the bat to Jason’s head was wearing a short sleeve shirt.”

The cops all looked at each other in confusion.

Robin threw her arms up in the air. “No tattoos, assholes! Eddie very famously has bats on his...” she looked at her own arms for a second, “right forearm. And whoever this Jesus with a bat was, he didn’t have any tattoos on his arm.”

“Robin!” her mother admonished. Melissa Buckley was there to ensure that the police didn’t try and twist Robin’s words into saying something that wasn’t true.

Robin just shrugged, unrepentant. They were being assholes and someone should tell them to their faces.

“Well, shit!” Powell snapped, throwing his hands into the air in frustration. “If it wasn’t Eddie then who the fuck was it?”

Just then the door to Robin’s room burst open, startling all those inside. Officer Glenn Daniels came running up to Chief Hopper, a large envelope in his hands.

“Florence got this this morning,” Daniels said, panting for breath. “And we wanted to verify its authenticity before bringing it to you. So me and couple of the other officers looked into it.”

Hopper opened the envelope, his eyes growing wider the more and more he looked through it. “And how much it of is accurate?”

“All of it.”

“There is no way,” Hopper growled, slamming the envelope on Powell’s chest. “No evidence is that air tight. There must be some kind mistake or error in there somewhere.”

Powell took the envelope and looked down into it. His eyebrows shot up. “There are actual fucking writings by Carver in here. Where the hell did they find those?”

Daniels just shook his head. “Whoever found this shit was meticulous. There are no other fingerprints than Jason’s on anything. But there is a letter.”

Powell went searching through the envelope and pulled it out, handing it to the Chief, who read it, mumbling to himself.

“Well, as much as I would like to say the bastard is wrong,” Hopper said with a resigned sigh. “He’s not. Or she or whatever. They’re not wrong. The victims wouldn’t have gotten justice, not with them being queer. Jason would have been lauded a hero and paraded in the streets for taking out the trash.”

“‘To the police,” Powell read out loud. “I am sending you all the evidence you failed to collect when you were too busy trying to pin these murders on an innocent man. It didn’t take a lot to realize the true connection the victims had. I’m just sorry I was too late to save Molly Masters. She didn’t deserve to die in that horrible way.

“Once I figured out who it was, I knew that there would be no justice for these kids. Not when Jason Carver was who he was, and why he was killing his peers. So I quietly compiled all the evidence I could. His journals. His distinct lack of alibis for any of the murders. His emotional connection to the first victim, his girlfriend, Chrissy Cunningham.

“I’m just glad I was able to stop him from killing that final girl. But if she did die later, I hope Carver rots in the hell of his own making. No one deserves to die because of who they love.

“-Jason’s Executioner.”

“Well, that ain’t creepy as shit,” Callahan said sarcastically. “Well it’s not as though we could have used any of this evidence anyway.”

“And when is Eddie Munson being released?” Melissa huffed, pulling herself up to her nearly six feet of height.

Hopper blinked at her for a moment. “I’m not sure I understand the question, ma’am.”

“That boy is innocent!” Melissa said sternly. “And what? You’re going to just sweep this all under the rug and leave Jason Carver’s reputation intact?”

“That’s not what I said,” Hopper replied, low and dangerous. “And I don’t appreciate you putting words into my mouth.”

Melissa crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down.

“He is innocent of the murders, yes,” he said, “but he still sold an underaged girl ketamine. And last time I checked that was still very much against the law.”

“I don’t believe you actually have proof of that,” Melissa said with a winning smile.

“He confessed,” Powell said in confusion. “We have it on record of him confessing to selling the drugs.” He put his hands on his hips. “There’s no way he’s not going away for the drugs.”

“Under duress,” Melissa said smugly. “Which any lawyer worth his salt will get tossed out in a heartbeat. You have nothing on the boy and you know it.”

Robin grinned up at her. “Isn’t she so cool? And she’s my mom!”

“Stop calling him a boy!” Callahan hissed. “He’s twenty! He knew full well what he was doing and I’m not going to stand here and let you pretend otherwise.”

Melissa scoffed, eyeing him up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I’d call your dog to heel there, Chief, we wouldn’t want me to scream police intimidation, now would we?”

“Don’t make me arrest you, Mel,” Hopper growled. “Again.”

Melissa grinned up at the chief. They had been on very opposite sides of the Vietnam War. Him having been in the army and her having been in the protests against the War. Hawks and Doves.

“And just what would be the charge this time, Chief?” she asked with a wink.

Hopper squeezed his eyes closed and then opened them slowly. He let out a long exasperated sigh. “Eddie Munson will be released without charges by the end of today.”

But before his underlings could protest he held up his hands. “It’s either release him and sweep under the rug that some rank amateur or we don’t release him and Melissa here goes to the press about how we put away an innocent man and get the national media up in our business.”

They stared at him for a moment before they grumbling agreed. Hopper bid the Buckleys goodbye and then led his officers out the room.

So how did Eddie know all this? He talked to Hopper, Daniels and the Buckleys and while some details varied they pretty much confirmed that how it went down and how Eddie got out on a ‘technicality’ as the cops were calling it.

When he stepped out into the fresh air outside of the jail with Wayne waiting for him, he took a deep breath and let it go.

“I don’t know how you can stand living in this hell hole,” he groused as he hopped into Wayne’s truck.

“Can’t afford to leave,” Wayne huffed and started the truck. “If I could scrape up the money to get out of here, I would and I’d take you with me.”

Eddie gave his uncle’s shoulder a squeeze. “Maybe I’ll be able to get a job and get enough money for both of us out.”

“If wishes were horses,” Wayne said ruefully as he pulled out into traffic. “I’m just glad you were released without charges.”

“You and me both, old man,” Eddie huffed. “I was sure I was going to be Reading, Pennsylvania, Short Line and B&O railroaded.”

“Good thing Melissa Buckley was there when they interrogated her daughter,” Wayne growled. “Or you might still be sitting in that cell.”

“I hope you sent her flowers,” Eddie said. “She certainly deserves it.”

“Delilahs and some of my grandma’s shortbread,” Wayne confirmed. “I even offered to help out any handwork they may need in the future too. And if I were you I’d offer your way around an engine too.”

Eddie saluted. “Aye, Aye!”

Wayne snorted. “If the way she tells it is true, some rookie wannabe detective is the one that provided the most damning evidence against that Carver kid.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Eddie said with a snort. “These backwater cops wouldn’t know their ass from their elbow.”

“Still it makes you wonder who it was...” Wayne said softly as they turned into the trailer park.

“It certainly does that,” Eddie agreed. “It certainly does that.”

~

I am ridiculously pleased with the railroad joke. It still makes me smile every time.

Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[biteyoubiteme]

with wings of wax and thread

angel!huening kai x demon!fem!reader

‧₊˚ ⋅ synopsis: In the kingdom of Aethera, an angel is pushed from the heavens. Wings torn and feathers spilling, he finds himself in the den of a demon who wishes to have never been found. Long having lived with your own fall from grace, wingless and bloody just as he is now, you help stitch back up what once was. Can nurtured understanding be crueler than nature? ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ warnings: 🔞!!!demon fem!reader, angel!huening kai, angst, blood, depression, mentions of death and gore, reader talks about being violently attacked, cpr performed, slight open ending that could lead to mc/member death if interpreted that way, unprotected sex, no pull out mention, prob forgot some sorry

⊹₊ ݁ . wc: 19.6k . ݁₊ ⊹

𓅪 ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: I, carrion (icarian) - hozier an: im so in love with this event, the work that all these amzing writers put into this is so astonishing- it’s so wild to participate in something like this when I still feel like a baby writer with so much to learn but thats always the fun bit I guess lol im so happy we could all stretch our creative abilities to come together and make this work <333 thank you for reading!!

[m.list] [aethera!event m.list]

ONCE UPON A TIME… In a land far far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky, and the water sparkled under the glowing sun. Where mountains rose high and in which long, deep caves ran. Where the sea met shore in a collision of tall waves. Where the undead walked among the living. Where the winged flew above the finned. In a land where things beyond any reason and rhyme existed. And amongst those very beings, within the veils of Aethera, there was… 

Feathers, soft and white, twisted in the golden glow from the slow-setting sun. Raining down like a thrown stone, sinking and littering the waiting ground. 

The fall from grace had been sickly sweet. The shock of that first second of flightlessness was frightening enough to cause Kai to sink his teeth into his tongue. Holding back the staggered scream he wanted to let out, still protecting the ones who wronged him. Who had sent a blistering pain down his back, the cracking of cartilage ringing in his ears as he screwed his mouth shut, pleading with glistening eyes, forgiving them the second that his foot had met nothing but air. 

His mouth had filled with blood, the ichor more sugar than iron, his stomach turning from the flavor, or maybe it was the feeling of falling. Flying had been something like this, the air rippling in his hair, every strand kissed with the soft hands of the north wind, a mother's touch. Flying had felt so close to life that even in falling he understood what it meant to have all your memories rush in front of you one last time. Because falling was like the memory of flying, the echo of it so close it was like a shout right in his ear. 

And he laughed, the sound a strangled choke, fighting its way out from between his lips, teeth stained and heart sinking. He had never felt heavy, not when lifting off the ground was second nature. Kai had imagined his bones had been hollow like a bird's, but plummeting only showed him how led he was lined. Heavy, too much for even the mother's air to carry him, slipping through fingers, through feathers. 

He didn't think that having a wing ripped right from his back would have made so many of his feathers come free, whirling around him, in a thick plume. Maybe it was his wing's way of bleeding. He had witnessed the damaged appendages before on others and they never bled, not unless wounded at the base, right at the shoulder blade. But even his feathers now were dotted with thick spots of blood, the droplets rising instead of falling with him, lighter than his lead bones. He reached out, trying to catch any feathers he could, trying to grasp them as if they would be the edge of a cliff he could pull himself back up from. But he came away with nothing but understanding. 

This was a brutal way to make a grave but it was the hand he had been dealt, the cards pushed into his waiting palms without question. He only hoped the ground wouldn’t damage his wings worse than they already were. Half hanging on by tender threads of pink life, he hoped to tuck whatever was left around him like he had when he was a child, creating a small cave for him and him alone. 

Kai was thinking in full circle thoughts, that crippling adult understanding washing away to childlike hope as he counted the seconds down to when someone would realize he wasn’t catching air, their rush to reach him deterred by the weight of him hurtling towards the waiting dirt. If his bones were not lead-lined they had been made of magnets, his ruined wings having kept him from the realization sooner; the grave always called the body. 

The carrion had made the decent look appealing. Kai had grown up seeing the demons sore up only to tuck their tar-colored wings close to their bodies, looking freer than when Kai stretched his out, the span of his shadow over the sea. If they could feel the thrill of descent he could find it in him to enjoy the last of his sorry life. 

The wind picked up, spinning him, round and round, dizzying and giggling. It was his twinkling laugh that made you look up. The jagged rocks circling his falling form, the ceiling of your cave the perfect opening for him to find himself invading. The sun was setting just enough so that the shadow of him cut deep into you, palms slick as you pushed up from where you sat at the edge of the moon pool, sand coating your fingers as you pressed a hand to your racing heart. Blood rushing in your ears, serpentine fear wrapping around your limbs running a chill down your spine. 

They had come, found your hiding spot, and planned to finish you off, that laugh was only the start. It had not yet turned cruel as it was that day, the parroting of the group still ingrained right behind your ears, following you around no matter how you tried to shake the thoughts. And now they were coming down like a meteor into the only safe space you had ever known. The entrance was hard to maneuver with wings; it only made sense they would have a rough time with landing except there was a giant splash, the water in the moonpool lapping up, the crashing sound like the waves hitting the rocks only now echoing in the carved out cave. 

Everything was getting wet, the water cold to your skin as it dotted your legs, feeling like a burn when you were so shocked. Because as the water settled, the churning sound still worked its way through your skull and it began to rain. The soft white feathers swung down billowing side to side, drifting as if they were a newborn butterfly, always knowing flying was in their bones but never knowing they could do it alone. Drifting to a final stop on water starting to calm. And there sinking to the bottom, face up and eyes closed, was an angel. 

His white wings torn and weighed him down lower and lower to the sandy floor of the pool, the plume of derby shadowing him as he hit the bottom. Hands out on either side of him like someone welcoming in the sun after a long winter, the look you saw before a much needed embrace, not as if you had ever seen it before. 

Stepping to the edge where sand turned to rock you looked back up at the sky, the fading light of the day slipping into hazy darkness, the blue hour working its way over the land before the moon fully made its appearance. But you could only see the slow falling feathers, catching wind and making way in other directions far from where you stood now. If he had been pushed by a demon they would have been on their kill without a second thought, they tracked them without mercy, like the hunters who aimed to play with their food instead of showing it the grace of kindness. If they had hit to watch him run they would have chased until it was over not let him sink in this water so far from home. They would have wanted the angels to see what they had done to such a pretty face. 

Because he was pretty, even in dying. The last bubbling breaths fluttered to the surface until they broke through the tension. You trembled, cold all over from the moment's rush of fear that was still coursing through you, hands clenching and unclenching as you thought over what to do with him. In the water he could rot without much worry to you, the fish would pick him over but it wasn't as if you got many swimming around anymore. The sea folk had warned of swimming too close to your pool, for the first couple months of you finding shelter in the hollow cave, the fish had been your only source of sustenance. But the sea folk kept to their own, even the lowest of the food chain, warning them about you had been easy enough. So his body would rise unless his wings found themselves lodged under a rock. 

You were ready to turn, find company in him even if he was at the bottom of the water until a single lone feather caught your attention. Eyes tracing the swaying descent like a cat following the trail of a mouse. Bleached white like a bone, pearlescent once it landed on the now still water, cupped like a curved leaf or petal. And there, dotted like a heart, was a single spot of blood. You could remember the way your own feathers looked, black enough for the blood to seep in and disappear like it had never existed. 

It had felt like drowning the day you found yourself here. Falling from where they had dropped you had hurt, the salt water burning your open wounds like a quick scratch from a cat. Your mouth full of the ocean, choking and suffocating you as you claw for anything to grasp. They had left you, the rain of black feathers not unlike this angel's white ones now. Only you had been still fighting, ripping at the hold that death had on you because in death you would have to go back to some kind of hell and you wouldn't be able to survive an eternity with your worst moments, not when at that peak they felt that excruciating. 

The angel now had given up, his twitching hand slowing to a stop. If the day you had found yourself drowning in this very pool had been your worst you would not let the same death kill someone else when you knew that it had been survivable. You would not take the name of your brethren as a brand but only the burden as it was, this action a shoulder shake to lessen its hold. So you dove in. 

You had reached the bottom before, the sandy ground only six feet deep, a proper grave for when your arrow rang true on the rare fish that came in. They sank from how heavy the weight of their death hit them. But they had never been truly heavy and you still felt weak in comparison to the other demons you should have taken after. It wasn't until you reached him that you realized you would have to touch him to take him to the surface. 

Your hands slid around his wrist, trying to lift him just enough to get your arms under his. Legs kicked behind you as you struggled to keep yourself in the right position, lungs constricting. He was lighter than you imagined and it was mostly because of the water's help, but his wings, broken, bent, and barely hanging on, weighed him down, hanging behind him like a sheet torn to bits. 

Kicking and kicking you went, feet pushing against the rocky walls lined with coral, sharp enough to cut into your feet. Blood was darkening the small space, his and yours, mixing as you went. The need to breathe begged at your aching lungs, throat tight with the need. He was so limp, no help as you finally broke the surface, gasping air by the mouthful as you reached an arm out for the edge. 

It hasn't crossed your mind how you would pull him out only that it was better to have his head above the water than below it. But you tried, not caring if he got scratched up as you pushed him needing to get him halfway out of the water so he was easier to pull out. Your grunts turned into near cries, he was heavier and heavier the more you pushed him out of the water, sopping body, wings, and clothes adding on to the bricks piled up you felt you were pushing out. When he was halfway up when your arms weak, you pulled yourself out of the water. No time to take a breather as you wrapped both your hands around his wrists. You groaned, putting all your weight back, tugging and tugging until he was just feet resting in the bloody water. 

Your arms are trembling, half limp only held up with the adrenaline crossing through you from the fear that was still making its way through your veins. Pushing him onto his back his partially open mouth looked as if he had already gone and died, effort wasted if you gave up now. You had never been taught the art of saving anyone but you knew what you would want if someone had been kind enough to lift a hand to help you. Fingers locked together you press on his chest, shoulders burning with the effort. Dripping water fell from your chin as you went, the droplets sliding down his cheeks like tears as you cursed. “Don't,” it was all you could make out from your clenched teeth, a demand that he not die right here, right now. Sand digging into your legs, grains between each feather pressed under him, turning them golden as the fading light hit in just right. 

You pressed so hard you felt your arms out snap, elbows locked, chest heaving in the way you wanted him to and then he coughed. The strangled choke like a morning bell, that slim chance of promise of another day. His body jerked to life, shocked like lightning he bolted, turning to the side and vomiting a mess of sea. Your nose scrunching as you sat back,  joints electrified and shot, you fell back into the sand, watching the high mouth of the cave as you listened to him continue his fit. 

In the time you had spent in the Moolpools cave it was easy to only make small movements, you hardly went out unless you were truly hungry enough to risk it. This had been the most motion you had done in a long time, and now you knew exactly why it was easy for them to target you. You felt weak, you were weak, this was only proof enough. But you had saved him, if even for a second, and they would have thought you weak for that too. 

You could hear their laughs right behind your ears. You had not been facing the sky then, but you had hoped, their hands forcing your face into the dirt. Childish demon cruelty taken a step too far even in the eyes of the elders. It had taken you a long time to catch your breath then, your lungs never obeying you but it's another reason why they had believed you dead, the sudden stillness that had taken over your body as the pain made its way through you. You wondered if your angel felt that way now. Only you had been kind enough to let him see the sky before he slipped into unconsciousness. 

Because he had, as you regained your strength to look at him, eyes closed, breathing rapid and uneven. You had given him a chance and now you didn't know what to do with him. His wings were bent and broken. Hardly any feathers clinging to the frail bones they had been attached to. It would be hell to fix them, pain unimaginable to bind and snap them back into place, stitch them together, and pray for some way to make them better again. You stood over him, the white shirt that had once been billowing in the wind was now transparent and clinging to his skin, the thread strong and fine. 

When they had ripped your wings off you had nothing left to attach, not that you haven't tried, but alone with no help there was no way to reattach wings with your hands. No way to reach behind yourself except to feel the spots they had once been, the jagged scars still there now, the ghost pain of that day still shooting down your back every time you dreamt of that day. And on the worst days, you could imagine them still behind you, heavy and protective, enough to curl yourself into your personal space, alone in the dark velvet home you had been born with already built in. Wishing they were back was worse than knowing the pain of them being taken away. And even as a demon, you would not be so cruel as your brethren had been to leave you without so much as the one thing that should never be taken from a person, angel or not. 

You still had your embroidery kit, the soft bag had been tied to your finger the day they had ruined you. The thread was dark, dyed to match the rocky mountains you had been sewing into the fabric. You wonder if they had burned your work after you were gone. All the hard hours doing the thing that you had hoped would get you by in the underworld. People loved to be flashy, spend on extravagant things, and there had been nothing more extravagant than the garments you had embroidered. 

Tucked in the bottom of the small pouch was a thin sharp pair of scissors, the handle shaped like a bird, wings laid back with its beak glossed in gold. They had been a gift when you started to learn, your needles next to them clicking around, silver and all different sizes. Everything was so small, your only weapon that day as if it would hurt them. They Had been useless but they would be put to work now. He would need to be wiped of the sand before you went in and started to clean the wounds enough to see where you would have to help sew him back together. 

You had collected a fair amount of things having lived in the cave for so long, your stash that was similar to a magpies, pretty but never something you used. Sometimes you would find things and keep them just because you might want them because it was better having something over nothing. The crate of glass bottles filled with alcohol is one of those things. It had washed up on the beach after a ship had hit the rocks, too close during a storm to leave anyone alive in the mess. You had picked over the wreckage just as the carrion you were nicknamed after. Someone would have wanted it and so you had taken it just because of that fact, if the gold meant nothing to you but everything to another you would have it, as was your nature. Now you could use it, uncork the bottle, and pour it over his back if you could get him to roll over again. 

Kai did not see you move to the dark corner where your stash was hidden when he blinked himself awake. In his confusion his lungs still felt full, his throat constricting as if he was waking in the water and not beside it, choking because his mind was trying to catch up to his reality. He hurt all over, his chest and stomach scratched and burning, heavy with an ache of bruised ribs. His back was on fire, screaming at him, begging him to scratch and rip at the pain. It made him whimper, the only sound that could come out from his raw throat. 

He could not think past anything but the look of the sky above him and not behind him as he fell. And when you showed yourself, a bottle of clear liquor in one hand and a small pouch in the other, he believed you to be a human stumbling upon him on a lone beach. He had not seen many humans, accustomed to staying up in the heavens with his brethren. And how could he have known what you really were when you were wingless? You had not grown the horns that most of the demons possessed, you could feel the spot they must have wanted to sprout through if they had been given the chance, the area always colder than the rest of your scalp. It had been one of the things they had picked at when taking their dues. 

To them, you had been no demon without the markers they had been so used to seeing, your wings the only thing tying you down to their depths. Even your power had been faint, strong enough to only wave a candle's flame to life, no roaring forest fires and destruction.  To Kai, in that moment you were nothing more than a girl who looked like the saving grace he had been begging so fiercely for when falling. 

For an angel, his dark eyes cut through you like knives. You had not been looked at so intensely since the attack, people who caught a glance had known to keep going and turn away. This gaze was a line of glimmering hope that he had thrown around your shoulders tightening until it was nothing but a collar of expectations tugging you forward. You had been taught to crush looks that felt suffocating, praise broken bonds, and burnt bridges before ever letting someone take you for a helping hand and honest heart. “Do not look at me like I'm something to be thankful for,” 

It was not the first thing that he had expected you to say to him. Not when he was so close to thinking you to be some sort of angel like him without the matching wings. Your voice cut through him, sharp and demanding, nearly as painful as it had been to wake up like this. Everything was falling apart; his body, his grip, which he had believed to be tight, around his good faith in people. But you had pulled him out of the water and maybe he had come to expect too much from people. A package deal that had been wrapped up in the warped expectations of the angels. Not that most of them followed the rules, but it was better to hide behind the guise of kindness than the truth of wrongdoing and instinctual indifference. 

The fallen angel only blinked back at your words instead of taking them in, eyes softening at the realization that it had been you alone to pull him out, your chin still dripping with the saltwater that stung the open wounds on his back. He could not do anything but look at you thankfully because it was the only thing he could focus on feeling without turning back into a pit of despair that had let him give up the second he had hit the water. Thinking even about that second of thought that would have led to forever was nothing but crushing rocks landing on his back heavier than the wings still trying to hang on by nothing but thin ribbons of flesh. 

And in truth what the look did was make you nervous. Like some lone schoolgirl who couldn't be under the pressure of her class watching a presentation. It frustrated you to no end, twisting a bloody knuckled hand around your insides and tugging them down to your knees. He was in no way able to make a move to hurt you that you wouldn't see coming first. You knew the small cave better than anyone alive and he was weak, his hands opening and closing limply like the steady wings of a butterfly resting. And all his feeble voice could muster up in response was, “Thank you,” 

The words strung together felt like thrown stones hitting you one after the other. You had been kicked out of your home and told you were no more demon than the humans roaming the castles pretending to play ruler and kingdom. To be told thank you for saving anyone, or even more specifically an angel’s, life was the final nail in your coffin. Every last thing they had said to you as they ripped your wings from your shoulders buried deep enough to burn, those two words sprouting from the grave to show the fruits of your tormentor's labor. The final stamp to seal the truth of your wrongfulness. 

It would have been easier to kill him then, easier than having to hold him down as you tried to help him, and easier than pulling him up from the depths of the moon pool. But they had been right to call you a sympathizer, right in calling you weak because looking at him needing you it was impossible to turn him away. “I'm going to hurt you,” it was a warning bell, the echo of your voice mimicking the sound of some faint prophetic truth. It was not your intention to cause pain on him but the only way that you could help him. It was easier to confess to that than to say you would try and fix him. 

But Kai did not listen, he did not care if you hurt him so long as it made his mind stop working over his last thoughts. The blinking of tears the second he had been pushed had made him feel little again, a child wondering why bad things happened at all. Why would someone push him, why would someone rip his wings until they were nothing but dead weight trying and failing to hold on to their last breath, drowning him, pulling him under into nothing but darkness? He had been wronged more than he thought would ever happen to him and if those who claimed to be honest, kind people,were the ones who hurt him, what was there to believe when those claiming to hurt him had done nothing but pull him free from death? It was a mess of contradictions and his gut was not helping him pick sides. He was a mix of emotions that felt hollow like a long dead tree waiting for a victim to fall into and perish just the same. Being hurt meant nothing to a newly found desolate creature, betrayed, and seeking grace. 

And so he would let you hurt him because he had nothing to lose, no more to give but turn over and let you try whatever it was that you had planned to help fix him. It was like a mutual understanding had fallen over the two of you like a blanket. He saw the bottle in your hand and knew, watched your fingers as they pulled out the needle, watched the way the metal turned red and you started to heat it enough to sterilize it. It was then that he knew what you were. 

It did not make him cringe, not when he knew that to have a demon at his back was akin to death incarnate welcoming themselves to twist a knife right into his spine. He knew that there were hardly enough people on this island who would have helped him enough to the point that they wouldn’t have gotten ill at the sight of his blood. Demons had steady hands; they did not tremble and they did not cower away from gore. To have been stumbled upon by a demon as generous as you were was a blessing he could not fight back against. 

So he let you turn him over, your warm hands working to take off his shirt, cutting it away until it was nothing but scraps, his face pressed into the sand, the grains catching in his lashes. You were gentle with him, laying out his wings that had lost most of their feelings, numb all the way up until they hit the spots right where they were supposed to be connected. It was the only place he could feel the pain anymore, his lungs and throat secondary to the pain he was feeling right there at the root of him. If everyone else had worn their hearts on their sleeves angels had found a way to wear their hearts on their back, their life source, and now it was screaming at him. 

You picked over the scraps of his shirt, peeling away the thread in long stands, looping the thread around your fingers, and making a small ball for you to pull from as you worked. He kept his eyes closed, lashes laying so peacefully across his cheeks as if he was dreaming in the moonlight and not waiting for you to put him back together. There was no going back the second you started, not unless you picked him apart again just to see the way he looked again while hurt. The thought made you feel a bit sick. The intrusion of it is either your mind trying to work around the situation or your faint demon instinct kicking in, playing with the idea until you fall into the trap of it. 

But it was still enticing even if it was sickening. You were so alone and bored, with nothing to do and no one to see. You had been hurt and had not yet found the outlet for that pain even years later, this was the perfect opportunity and yet you could not bring yourself to do anything but cringe the second you straddled his back. Holding him down with the weight of you as you poured the liquor over his wounds and watched him writhe from the pain. There was little enjoyment to find here. 

Kai tried to keep his mouth shut nearly as tight as his eyes but the second the first wave of the anesthetic washed over him he could not help himself from screaming. It echoed around the cave, loud enough to find itself spilling from the cave's top entrance. If anyone had been walking around they would have run, believing some wolf had gotten too far from the woods and taken a victim. You did not try to shush him, just placed your warm palm in the center of his back and pushed him back down, trying to keep him still even if it was an impossible task at that point. 

Then the first stitch came. It was easier to hold back, easier to try and focus on anything else but the blinding pain he was feeling, it was something other than the emptiness settling over him. He could not think of anything good coming from this, could not see himself going home again, to see his friends, the ones who had pushed him, his mother, his sisters. There was nothing but shame and treachery. They would have welcomed him back even wingless but there was no way for him to ever feel at home again, not when he knew what it was like to be nothing but air and death. 

He did not care if he did not move from that spot, the sand the only thing grounding him as he sunk his fingers in curling them until he could feel nothing but his mind trying to work and count every grain he could imagine on his skin. It was nothing but a tactic to let the pain wash away for even a second. He didn't even realize he was crying until the wetness was making more sand stick to his cheek. The soft rumbling of his whimpers mixed in with the faint groans he would release after a particularly tender part of the stitching. 

“You are very lucky to have me, when they took my wings I had nothing to do but bury the one they had left hanging. I don't know what it had looked like but I do know that it felt like this,” you were muttering, talking to yourself and letting the words come out without a filter just as you did when he hadn't been here. “I would have wanted even the one to be stitched back but I remember the pain and I'm-” The word sorry was not one that came from you often or at all, there was little you could do but say it now but still your throat caught. “I would not wish it on anyone,” 

Your fingers worked fluently, picking up the memory of the old stitches you had perfected long ago in a life you did not care to remember. This was nothing but an old way of passing time that you had practiced over and over again. You had never stitched up flesh and blood but it was no different now than it had been then. In a way, it was a comfort you should not have found in the task but it was impossible not to. 

“I do not know how well this will work but I will try,” his wings, covered in sparse feathers, twitched every once in a while as you carefully threaded your needles, tightening the stitches and watching the way the wings came back to life like a marionette doll pulled at its strings. It was hope and nothing more. 

Kai couldn't grit out any more words, the sound of your voice washing over him like a balm but nothing more. He wanted to hate you but knew it was necessary to feel this way when it came to pain. They had told him never to bite the hand that fed him but this was a forceful hand coming out to get him, twisting its fingers in his hair and pushing his face in the dirt until it was nothing but a given that he had to eat whatever it was that was handed to him. But he listened, taking in each word and trying to keep them as close as he could get them. 

Tried to imagine you with dark wings at your back. The silky feathers always shined so nicely in comparison to his white ones. His wings had looked plush and downy, nothing like the oily temptation of the demons. But he could not get the image around his head, could not see what it looked like any more than what it would look like to go home again. It was with you in his mind that he passed out, eyes closing until there was nothing but peaceful darkness where he had no reason to think of hurtful homecomings and angels dressed as death. 

You noticed almost as soon as he fell into the pain. Body going slack underneath you, all of his muscles loosening before he was nothing but twitching nerve ends from each insertion of the needle. It was not delightful work but clean and concise, the expert precision of a fiber works artist long since skilled in their field. Every so often your fingers struggled to keep hold of the slipping needle, the tips of each digit dipped in crimson as you went on with your task. And even as he lay there you went on with your muttering. “We will have to look for more feathers, only a few fell in here, I still have a couple but I don't know how well you will feel looking spotted like a pigeon,” 

For a long time, you had been sick at the sight of the clutch of feathers that you had kept from your wings long gone. It had been nothing but pain to see them, the sight cutting into you like a knife just sharpened on a whetstone. You had wanted to bury them right along with the wing you had put to rest, ripped the rest of the way from your back from your own hands, and yet you couldn't part with them just as you couldn't let go of the needles from your past life. 

Helping him right now, pinching skin to pierce through and thread, felt like it was somehow stitching up a bit of yourself. You acted fast almost as soon as he was out of the water because it was the way you would have wanted someone to help you. Without discrimination, just understanding. They had given you no chance and if you could not give it to yourself you would give it to someone not far off from you. Because you knew what it was like to live here stuck wingless with nothing to do but try not to rot like some discarded apple. It had taken everything in you to help yourself once you had let go of your past life. The feeling was nothing like you had ever felt before. 

It was emptiness, no more and no less, just an expanse of nothingness that unraveled the farther and farther you went into the recesses of your mind. To pull yourself from that pit and find some kind of routine was nothing short of a miracle. But if someone had been waiting here, even if they didn't pull you out of the water but took the wing you had and gave you the hope to live with that once comfort would have been better than nothing. Even if he didn't have full control over his wings like before he would still have his childhood home still there right at his back protecting him when no one else had. If you could give him that it was enough. 

But then when the sewing was done there was nothing to do but let him rest. The work you had done was as neat as it could be, the prickling skin around the base of each wing would hold steady and let the skin heal. You stood looking over him, sleeping with his soft cheek on the sand, his hair once wet now dry and resting against his sleeping brow. Angelic was the only word that would surface and it felt silly to attach something so obvious to him. He was nothing but angelic down to the bone; to his blood. But even still freckled in dried blood and his half-feathered wings you could tell it was written all over him fallen or not. 

You had seen little of the angels when growing up but occasionally they made a pass over the moonpool's mouth. Their bell-like laughter twinkled like the stars in the night that they flew with. They had seemed so far off and distant. But what you had been told about them was that they were nothing but selfish and self-righteous. Underneath the beauty was callous arrogance, they helped others but only if they had already achieved more and found that they could take the last step without them. Take help but never give credit unless it is beneficial to them to say, drop everything to look good, or fend for themselves. 

They had said all demons had shared blood with the angels, until one was banished, the bitterness infecting their souls until their wings turned ebony with rage and the promise of revenge. The story had been on your mind the second they had picked on you for being weak, wondering if somehow your blood had run thin and showed assets of your long since dead ancestors who had seen the heavens and walked with wings of ivory at their backs. Because although you found yourself thinking cruel things you did not dream to be a cruel person. 

So you cleaned him up as best you could, cleaning the blood from your hands and his back, taking the time to take your wet cloth over his feathers to try and clean them as best as you could. You watched his wings twitch in response every so often but he did not stir, there was little you could do in terms of his pain, little more you could do if he found himself with an infection. You could hardly keep yourself alive in the space, you don't get many fish unless you make it out to the beach at night, or find a rabbit in the woods easy enough to catch with a trap. Two mouths to feed was a limit you would have to push yourself to reach. 

But it was something you would think about in the morning, not when the sun was gone and the cave was dark enough that the only thing you could see was the faint glow of the moonpool. The water reflected onto the walls of the cave, washing everything in an eerie blue hue that minced what it would have looked like if you plunged in and swam with the sea folk. It was one of the few beautiful things you could indulge in and yet now you could add to the list because you had him to look at. 

Without turning your back to him you found your usual spot against the wall, the perfect place so that it was just hidden in the dark with the view to see the ceiling's entrance. There was nowhere else to look with him blocking the water as you lay down, back pressed up against the smooth stone wall, washing your heated skin with the faint coolness it had been seeking. You traced the lines of his sleeping face, scared to fall asleep with him so close. Wishing that in that moment you had your own wings to wrap you up, block you from the fear of waking up with him so near with nothing but questions and demands. 

You curled up with your small blanket, tucking it under your chin keeping the angel in sight. It was only when your lashes were fluttering closed that you noticed his eyes start to peek open. He only blinked faintly, a tremble starting in his arms but he was unable to move them. Kai felt weak, drained of everything, vision blurry with the sight of you lying down in the blue darkness. 

Whatever fear you had before was slowly washing away with the look of pain written all over him. He had no way of hurting you when he could hardly breathe properly from the pain. “What is your name?” you could not keep calling him the angel in your head or out loud. 

Your whisper carried in the room and he closed his eyes at the sound, it had been what he had heard before he passed out and it only made his mind feel at ease, something to grab onto in the pain. “Huening kai,” it was low and the only thing in the whole room besides the two of you. 

“You need to rest Kai, tomorrow we have to look for any feathers that may have dropped around the beach or the woods,” but Kai didn't care about that, not when he was still trying to find more of you to hold onto. 

“What’s-” he couldn't think of the rest of the sentence, not until it was tumbling into him like the rocks off the side of a cliff. He wanted to know your name and hold onto it so he could attach it to the thoughts and memories he was building of you in his head. “What's your name?” He was looking through his lashes only able to keep his eyes open the smallest bit because even that had felt like it took too much energy, the small twitches of his fingers taking most of the rest of his will. 

For a second you could not remember what you had been called before you were just you, because in here, alone, no one asked and no one cared. But it came back to you like the moon had come back each night, there was no forgetting it even if it sounded foreign on your tongue after so many years. Saying it, Kai could hear how unsure you felt until you repeated it again for him. 

So that's how he said it in his head, the slight second between the two the repentance following the state of his mind, that question lingering at the last syllable, and the sigh of content following the tail end when he said it again. So he let it go over and over in his head, counted the letters like sheep jumping over him, letting the thought of you lull him back to sleep instead of the pain. And you followed right after him, sleeping fitfully because every time you heard a small hitch in his breathing you had to make sure he was still alive. Make sure that your effort has not gone to waste. 

And he did live through the night and with your aid you helped him sit up in the morning. Watching him ball his fist and rub at his cheek to rid it of the sand that had built up. He looked like a cherub fallen to the stone and looking up in the foreground of the painting waiting for someone to notice his absence. Because all he could think about was if anyone missed him, if they knew what had happened to him and how he had been pushed instead of just caught in some wind he could not find control in as if he was little and learning to use his wing again. They must have said something, maybe they had blamed a demon for what had happened. 

But now with your eyes on him, watching him as you made to clean his back again, checking if in the night there was no more redness or sign of illness, he could not think to see a demon the same again. Here you were being a complete contradiction to everything he had ever been told in his life. Demons were nothing but troublemakers who thought nothing about others. They kept to themselves and made fun by bringing people down. There was no room for him to think about how good a demon could be to anyone let alone an angel like him. 

Sitting up, letting your warm hands look over his back, he wanted to lean into the touch, let you care for him until he could find a way to fly right out of here. There was no way that he could repay you for something like this, nothing for him to do but sit in the silence you had built around you. But he wanted to break it, crack against the hold that the stillness had over him, and scream at the top of his lungs and curse the heavens even if he had forgiven them for so much already. 

He did not know if he deserved what had happened to him but he understood that it had happened and there was nothing for him to do but take it. Cursing and screaming would do nothing but make him bitter and bitterness took too much from the soul, it drained people and he needed all the energy he could get. “Thank you,” it was again the only thing that he could think to say. 

“I told you it would hurt,” because every brush of your fingers to check your work was making him suck in the air between his clenched teeth, the sound fast and snakelike. 

“Would there have been another way to do it without pain?” it was nothing but a question to poke fun. Kai wanted to lighten the mood but it did not help the situation. 

“Do you think my kind would have taken it if so?” you didn't care to look at his blinking reaction, because as much as he knew you were his only option he still held some kind of grudge against demons. It was written all over his face and you didn't even have to see it to know. It shut kai up in a slip second of shame for thinking the instant no. 

“You're helping me nonetheless,” his hand reached across his body to press at his shoulder, delicate fingers so close to the torn flesh. 

You waved his hand away, “don't touch it, the worst thing would be an infection,” 

“The worst thing would be to lose them all together,” he did not say it to be mean or pick at you, he was not like your kind in that way where they know the thing that would tear you down and pick that option every time. No, he was just stating his truth and he was not lying. Infection could be helped but losing them would be closer to death. It was nothing but words but it made your back burn. 

You had heard of ghost limbs, the feeling of a hand still being there after it had been cut clean off. People believed they could scratch the limb if they thought hard enough to get rid of the feeling. You didn't know how real the feeling would be until you were there with your wing buried in the woods, the other long lost and tossed in a fire if you knew how any of them would have cleaned up the mess they made. If anything was to tear into you it was that first night where everything ached. Your back where the scabs started to turn to scars began to itch and the feeling traveled down to where there was nothingness but the hope of where your wings would resprout if that was ever an option. You wanted to wrap them around you and wished if you felt the ghost of anything it would be the home they had helped you feel but all you had felt was pain. A pain you could not help because there was nothing to do but let it work its way through your system. The pain was not an itch; not so easily taken care of. 

“That would be horrible and if you don't listen to me they will be gone, keep your hand away,” you left no room for argument in your tone and Kai listened. He curled his hand into a fist and sat it in his lap. “Today we will let the area breathe and while I’m out we can get whatever we need to make a salve to help the healing process,” Kai nodded knowing that you were right. He didn't even have the first thought of where to start to find out how to help himself. 

“Can you try and pull your wing in,” you didn't want to push him so early but you needed to know if it was worth the trip to even go out and look for feathers if he could not use them. 

For Kai, it felt like an impossible question to answer. He felt distant from his heart back, like he was cut in half but then he felt your fingertips, the feeling of them dragging along the edge of his wings, tracing the span of them and following the curve. “Can you feel that?” This was easier because it was the only thing he could focus on. The heat of you was constant, radiating from your body onto his like a blanket he wished he could pull in closer. 

“Yes,” it was shallow as he followed the feeling in his mind. He had never been sensitive to touch on his wings, he knew others could feel any brush of their feathers but he felt nothing until now. If he had lost the ability to fly he had gained the ability to have sensation right along the spot he feared he would lose anyway. 

You curled your fingers around the top of his wings slowly following the natural way they folded into themselves and helped him push them close to his back. Kai groaned but it was not as horrible as he expected it to be. With your help, he found whatever connection he had lost because now he could keep them pulled in without your help. But you still helped to tuck the other one close just as neatly, checking around his stitches to make sure they could handle the movement without being impossibly stiff. 

The sight made you clench your jaw. Jealousy had not been a familiar feeling here but it was alive and well now. But it did not matter, you could be jealous and still help him. But you had to get up and turn away, busy yourself with finding your own feathers, the ones you kept at the bottom of your stash of things, making sure they didn't accidentally get seen by you when you didn't want the reminder. 

It had felt easy to say you would give them to him in the moment but the second you pushed aside the spare clothes you had and laid eyes on them it was like saying you would clip off your fingers and let him use them on his own hands. You let the stack of clothes fall right back into place, picking up the loose shirt you could find that would button over him. He would have to wear it backwards because it was not made with wings in mind but there was nothing else for you to do unless he wanted to walk around shirtless. 

But Kai was thankful pushing his arms through the sleeves and leaving the buttons for you to do up for him. You made sure to keep yourself from brushing him accidentally, no need to touch him more than you needed to as you secured the fabric around him. But Kai instantly missed your warmth the second you pulled away. 

“The only way out is up but it's nothing too bad, you only need to raise your arms about this high,” you demonstrated, “it's mostly leg work,” 

“You want me to leave?” he didn't know why it was the first thing he would think, you had just told him about collecting materials to help him but as soon as the words left your mouth all he could think was no don't kick me out don't push me like them, as if you could hear him you shook your head. 

“Do angels only sit around when faced with adversity or do they get up and work?” you slung your bag over your shoulder, slipping both arms in to have it securely against your back. When going out it was the only thing that felt comfortable enough to have at your back when you had little else. “If you want to stay, I say we work together to make sure that we can keep you here for a bit longer, but I cannot do everything and you cannot stay forever. Tonight we only need a few things,” 

“Okay,” Kai stumbled to stand, feeling unstable and wobbly enough to reach out for the walls to hold him up. 

“You can stay here for tonight, rest more if you're not up for it,” 

“No,” it was a slight snap back against the way he was feeling. It was not only because he was feeling weak but because he did not like to sit around doing nothing, he did not want to wait for you to come back or worse wait and think that you were never coming back for him. He's sure that is something a demon would do, leave him here without help just to see how long he would stay without the help. But he was thinking badly because he didn't want to face his own truth, “I need to do something,” anything would be better than sitting around and thinking up ways to hate you over nothing at all. Because there was nothing to hate you over, you had done nothing that would make him hate you but the longer he stayed up with his thoughts they seemed to poison the image of you slowly. And he could not do that to his savior. 

“Fine, you can go first so that I can make sure you don't fall back,” and you had been telling the truth about the way out, the grooves of the walls made perfect spaces for his feet to fit. Only after a few steps up did he have to raise his arms to try and hold himself steady as he kicked his feet out the top of the opening. It was only possible because the side you had set him to get out of was shorter than the rest of the jagged ring of rocks forming the entrance of the cave. And as soon as he was out it was easy to sit and rest with his legs dangling into the open mouth as if he would just jump right into the water he had nearly died in. 

You had no trouble pulling yourself up and out, the rock smoothed down from the amount of time that you had made the trip up even if you avoided it most times. “There is no other way in or out?” Kai asked as you showed him the way down to the grassy underbrush. 

“You could swim in and out, it's not very practical but it's better that way if you want to make sure no one sees you coming in. But I don't think that would be good for you and you have to hold your breath for a long while,” Kai could not think about what it would be like to go back into the water after yesterday, he's sure he would instantly imagine himself drowning again. 

Instead, he focused on following you and your steps through the thick mess of trees surrounding the spot where you had made your home. Distantly he could hear the sea, the soft crashing of waves on the shore lightening as the two of you went until he saw the first blood-dotted feather. 

His wings twitched at the sight, the soft white tucked in between the branches and leaves of a tree. He was silent as he watched you pluck it between your fingers, reaching it like you were picking up a gold coin found on heads for luck. “You will tell me eventually why it is you fell from the heavens won't you?” he watched you twist the feather, examining the dark dried crimson stains. 

“There is little of a story there,” he was clenched all over, fists and jaw tight as you held the feather out for him to take, “you hold it,” he jutted his chin out, the only movement he could bring himself to make or else he would fall apart. 

Kai had gone through many feathers of different sizes growing up. Preening them and feeling grateful to have grown fully so that they did not fall out as often as they had when growing from downy softness to strong enough to let him fly. But it was different to see them like this. He knew they should not be in your hand, or even his. They should not be spread around the woods like bunches of snow that had not yet melted with the coming spring. But it was as if the longer he looked out over the expanse of woods in front of the two of you the more speckles of white he caught mixed in with all the green. 

He was frozen in his spot, stuck just looking out at all the pieces of himself spread out like nothing more than a chess board thrown to the ground, with no intention of being picked up after a soiled game. You could see in him the same kind of evil that was in you twisting itself around your brain the second you moved that stack of clothes and saw your own feathers. When you were young they meant nothing because they had always been there but once it started to go away, once it was nothing more than a pile in front of you it made you feel small and insignificant. 

“When they first ripped my wing it didn't hurt like I had imagined it would have,” you had been frozen, stuck like a kitten who had been picked up by the scruff of its neck. You had looked up with eyes that nearly rolled in your skull the second you realized what had happened. How could you not have felt something so huge? Maybe it was because you could not see it, your mind not catching up with your body until seconds later and it was all you could think to feel. There had been blood, slick down your back and on your fingers as you reached to try and hold onto anything that was left. “For a second you almost think you can fly away from the pain,” 

Kai watched your eyes go unfocused, lost in a thought that had been his reality just the day before. It was almost as if he could feel that foot pressed right into his back again. His ‘friend’ with the heel of his boot cutting into Kai’s spine. He had asked him to look out over the edge of the last cliff, claiming to have seen carrion flying around too close for comfort. It was only a second, looking over the edge so high up he knew that if he flew down and caught the wind that it would be a rush he could never replicate. 

The boot had been nothing but a second before his hands had been on his wings pulling them back until that sickening crunch and tear. It had happened so fast kai had felt nothing until it was all too late. 

“There is always a story and you don't have to tell me yours but know that if I could get revenge on the ones who took my ability to fly, I wouldn't hold back from repeating over and over the same pain they inflicted on me,” you tucked his feather into your bag, “they wouldn't think twice about you so don't give them the grace of never speaking up for what they did to you,” 

“You’d think that because you're a demon,” and for the first time Kai saw you crack a smile, a twisted tarnished thing. 

“We are not too different, the only thing that sets us apart is you thinking you are any better than me. You forget we both woke up in that cave only I was alone and you had me, and how lucky for you that I'm nice and don't just build you up to pull you right back down again,” you turned walking because you needed the distance, “go back if you can't see that we are the same,” 

“My first thought wouldn't have been to hurt someone I helped,” Kai kept pace with you, watching you pick up each one of his feathers as you went. 

“Just because I say I resist hurting you physically does not mean that what you say or think cannot hurt me. You want to freely throw your judgment around and stick a label onto me, reducing me to nothing but blood I did not ask to be born with and still you cannot see how we are exactly the same. We are only doing the same thing in different seasons, only one of us is plain as day and the other is hidden behind some thick smokescreen allowed in whatever game we have found ourselves,”  he could tell there was no room for argument with you. Set in some demon way that made you want to burn instead of heal. But even he knew he was just being bitter, proving you right even if he didn't say it out loud. 

He was grateful and he was upset, he had been a pot of water his whole life and it had never been set above a fire until right now and the bubbling was unwelcome and made him itch all over. He didn't see the reason for revenge when there was no way for him to get back up to the heavens without walking up the stairs and that would feel more shameful than coming back wingless. The only thing he could feel about the topic was that if it had been him or you he's not too sure that it would have been him you would have picked to help. But even he couldn't hide from the truth of wanting to pick himself every time. 

So he kept his mouth shut knowing there was nothing he could say that would make him look better and nothing he could say to make you look worse because faintly you were right about the both of you being so similar. He followed you like a lost puppy, watching you pick over the brush, collecting pieces of him until you found every part of the set to make enough of a picture. You were careful with them, fitting them all together in a neat stack and wrapping a loose string of thread around them to keep them from spilling all over again. 

By the time you two had combed most of the area, the sun was setting into nothing but stars. Two handfuls of feathers and a pit in Kai’s stomach made for little conversation. Keeping his eyes on his footfalls he did not see what it was that made you tense up until it was right there burning in the distance. 

A little ball of fire, dancing seemingly above nothing but the air. A Willo-the–wisp, bright enough to feel like a beacon one could not turn to look away from. But you hissed at the thing, reaching down to pick up a rock, smooth in your palm before you threw it. “Hey!” Kai's voice echoed in empty woods, previously the only sound heard was his crunching footsteps. Your years of walking down here had taught you how to keep yourself light as you made a journey this far out from your home. “See only proving my point, hurting things without reason, what did they ever do to you?” 

But you didn’t feel like explaining yourself to him, it felt silly to believe in rumors about the little creatures but it was impossible not to feel conflicted about bad signs when your life had been full of misfortune.  “Its bad luck to see them,” 

“Well it showed up there was no need to throw a rock at it, bad luck or not it was given the second it popped up,” his statement made you roll your eyes. What was there to do but watch the flame snuff out? It felt better to make the flame extinguish the second you saw it as if they were the thing that leached luck from you the longer they stayed around.  

“I'm not going to sit and let the death promiser dance around and curse me, or you for that matter, I don't know how I would pull your corpse from the cave if you were to die from the infection they wanted to warn you about,” you watched his face pale, your eyebrows lifting letting it known that you had seen that you had won written on him, “see, so let me throw stones, I'm doing it for both of us even if you don't believe it,” 

“It's only an omen, it doesn't mean anything real,” but he was trying to convince himself to fear the little flame, small and weak enough to be taken out by nothing but a pebble. 

“You know we have people who read the stars? Creatures deep in the sea, the woods, the kingdom, even your precious sky. They all have stories and folklore that came from some kind of truth,” you picked up another stone in case you saw another little flame lingering around not wanting to risk a sighting even if you could help it. 

“How are you planning on getting the feathers back on?” Kai wanted anything else but to talk about being the same or not, about folklore and truth. He was tired and didn't want to think about anything else besides what was supposed to come next. 

“Wax, I have lots of candles stored up that will do, if I get the layers thin enough it shouldn't weigh you down. It's also soft enough so that it won’t restrict any growth when they start to grow back,” it felt far away to think about having to go through the process of aging all over again, he had been through the phase of watching his feathers transition he did not want to wait again. The wax would give him an option, anything that would help to keep him from feeling as if he fell so far back from everything he had ever known. 

He wonders if you had thought through the same things with your wings before it was too late. If the idea for the wax had come before or after you buried your last option. He did not think it would be okay to ask that, not when you were helping him already. Demons being fickle was not uncommon; he wouldn't be surprised that you tossed him aside for something new to tinker with if given the option. Rather he gets as much information for you on how to help himself before you leave him with nothing at all. 

You showed him the way back up and down into the cave and for a sickening second, he thought you would push him while he looked for a way to make it down without landing in the water. Your hand had been on his back to steady him and yourself on the edge together. His flinching from your touch only registered as pain and not fear. You jumped down angeling yourself so that you landed right at the edge of the water and you looked up, stepping out of the way waiting for him to follow your lead. 

Kai pushed himself down feeling nothing but air for only a second but it was a second too long. He stumbled as soon as his legs hit the ground, leaning back and looking at you for a sickening moment before he was ready to accept falling back into the water, but you reached out making a fist in his shirt as his arms waved trying to find something to hold onto. The heels of his feet almost tipped him into the water, his wings shuddering and trying to pull in closer, hiding back away as if they could when this damaged. The buttons on the back started to pop with the strain of his weight and he had to reach out for you, hands wrapped around your forearm as you pulled him back to the safety of the sand. 

“You're very clumsy on your feet,” you muttered, pulling yourself away from him and his tight grasp. He was embarrassed but only because he was washed in fear and being caught for it on his face. 

“There was not one time you fell while jumping down?” he waved at the short distance that was available for him to land. 

“Once or twice but you get used to the angle and learn,” you don't put your bag down, not when you have to turn around to look for your candles, keeping your back covered even if now you knew he would do little to hurt you physically. Everything you had picked up from your conversations and just watching him walk around made you realize just how his label fits him so well. He had been more upset over the will-o-the-wisp than his own ruining. But it still didn't make you drop your guard. 

Finding your stack of candles you tucked them under your arm and turned to find Kai sitting in the sand all over again, looking out at the water and watching the way it swayed. He traced the dark outline of the opening leading out to the sea, hardly noticeable if you hadn't said there was a way out before. He would have believed there was only the two of you and not the world's ocean just a few feet away from him. So much just inches away from his tomb that he believed he would have been stuck in until someone found his heavy lead-lined bones. 

“We don't have to do it tonight if you don't want to,” your voice was soft as if you knew he was stuck in some darkness in his mind, struggling against the hold of some blanket of depression he had thrown over himself and couldn't find his way out of. “It would be better too because we need the light and I can hardly make a fire big enough to produce enough,” 

Light, once so easy to produce on the edge of his fingertips, wasted power on his childhood innocence trying to find ways to light up his bedroom when he was supposed to be sleeping. It had been easy back then and now sitting here wanting to get it all over with he couldn't get up enough energy to heat his skin. He was cold all over, blood leached, and hollow. Lifting his palm he focused in on his hands, the soft ridges tracing around the center supposed to be the lifeline or so he had been told. That was where he had always watched the light come from first, starting right at his wrist and working its way up curving between his thumb and pointer finger before it was nothing but light held in his hand like he had caught a star. 

Now it was nothing. Not a flicker of illumination nor a hum of warmth. He balled his fist clenching until he felt his nails digging into his supposed lifeline wishing that if he squeezed hard enough he could find a single drop of anything left in him. And still nothing. Not even enough to help him now when he wanted it, needed it most. “Tomorrow,” the word was a bitter thing, in his chest and making it sound rough with hatred. 

“It takes a bit to get back,” you tried not knowing why you didn't just curl up in your spot and wait for the rest of the sun to set so that you could sleep. Ignore him and his well-deserved mood. But you had done the same thing, sitting in the dark trying to make even the smallest flame and nothing would come, “I was never the best at lighting anything on fire, not even the blades of dry grass they let the little ones practice with,” 

Kai listened, watching you from the corner of his eye as you took a seat next to him, legs crossed just like his, your knee so close to hitting against him he could feel the heat from it. “I should have known then that I wasn't like the rest of them, tailless, hornless, powerless,” you gave a dry humorless laugh, fiddling with the candle sticks you had, letting them spill into your lap picking one only one up and examining the wick. He traced the side of your face, following the bridge of your nose right till the end and watching you blow so softly it wouldn't have taken down the light of a birthday candle. 

But a flame bloomed, catching on the wick, and dancing in the coming darkness. It lit up the features of your face, your eyes shining in the light as you watched the small reflection of your power. You had little to give, children had been playing with fire long since they were learning to crawl and you had only come to master a few tricks. “The only thing that had labeled me a demon were my wings, and they had been…” the edge of your lips wobbled, your jaw clenching closed at the itching in your throat as if this was even too much to say to him. “They had been beautiful,” it was said just as softly as the exhale you had done to light the candle, hardly there and weak. 

“I didn't even care about the fire, anyone can light a match or strike flint and create a spark. But…” 

“Not everyone can fly,” he could feel the way you struggled to say it as if it was traveling from his mind to yours. In the firelight he watched the tear fall, tacking down your cheek faster than you could wipe it away. But you caught it erasing it as if that would take your feelings away from you as if it would keep those intrusive memories from surfacing. Because no one would know how it felt to be that high, physically and mentally, unless they had been up there with you catching air with a laugh bubbling up from your chest like it was coming from a faucet that could never be turned off. 

You blew out the candle, sticking it in the sand and pushing yourself to stand, letting the rest of the candlesticks stay laid out for tomorrow. “Don't worry about what you don't have just yet and be thankful for what you're still holding onto. I'm going to bed.” No more was needed to be said when the two of you both knew it hurt too much to find yourself in the mix of confessions and shared sympathy. So you tossed your bag to the side, turning your back to the wall and closing your eyes so that you couldn't look at the blessing you had given him and hadn't received from anyone else. 

But it was incredibly hard, there was nowhere to look except him or the back of your eyelids and all you could see when you closed your eyes was the vision of you in the sky. It ached to remember and the pain was fresh looking at his new stitches that you had done even with his wings pulled in and sparse of feathers. Because he sat there at the edge of the water trying and failing to open his wings up again without your help this time. 

He could tell they were stiff and he was unfamiliar with the feeling. Before it had been second nature, his wings moving as his lungs did without the need for his mind but now that he focused on them it was like they couldn't work and wouldn't unless he focused on not paying any mind to them. But it was hard to do that when his healing stitches were itching and he was told over and over again by you not to touch them. So he sat there watching the water with his back to you as if that would keep him accountable for not messing up your hard work. 

All that was keeping him up was the promise of tomorrow when the sun would come out and you would help him put his feathers back even if he felt that it wouldn't work. In a way he worried it was too unnatural to work, that somehow it would just fail because it was not right, the wind would not agree and still, if it did work he had no intentions of going home. To go back with wings made of nothing but wax and thread felt like a lie of himself. Some imposter trying to pass as himself to fit back into the same life he had before. But with his wings stuck together like a forged abomination felt like he was never going to find himself comfortable there again. 

He didn't care if they took him in as he was, whispered behind his back, because he knew they would, and let him pretend that everything was the same when it so clearly was not. He knew little of the world below and even less of the world below that one from where you came from, leaving home would be an adjustment but necessary. He just needed his wings healed enough to hide them back inside of him wherever it was they unfurled from when he wanted them. It had been uncomfortable back in the heavens because there was no need to hide who you were. He would have to get used to the feeling but it would not be something as horrible as this ache was now. 

It wasn't until the morning, the sun just peeking over the edge of the cave's mouth that he realized he had not gotten any sleep at all. He listened to the water, the chitter of the animals in the distant woods, and the sound of your easy breathing while you dreamt. He wondered if you would have dreams of flying, if they hurt just as bad as the pain of knowing you never would fly again but he knew they must have been tethered feelings; unable to have one without the other. 

He pictured you over and over again in his head. Imagined you with your wings of night in the air next to him, that laugh you had turned his way unlike the one he heard but one he wished you would give him so that he would know something in his dream would be real. This laugh was somewhere caught between a giggle and a sprinkle of light from his fingertips. He locked in on thinking of the laugh over the feeling of flying because it was impossible to not hurt when thinking of the air. But you, thinking of you, felt safe even if it was some kind of hope caught in a dream. 

Because you would never fly again he knew that much because you were so certain of it. He had known of people who wanted to mimic the feeling of flight. Making things out of clockwork and magic as if it would help them but that felt worse than having to go home stitched up. To walk in with wings not even close to the ones you owned, or were born with, felt like the worst kind of death. You wouldn't have even known that you had died, that the only thing keeping your body animated and moving were the strings of your delusion tied so tight around your joints that you never got a chance to look down and realize this was not you at all. 

So he tried to grasp that laugh because it was the only thing that felt close to real; the only thing that felt close to happening at all even with all the distant hope he was supposed to be having. And when you woke you could see it all over him, the failure written on every inch of him. It fueled an anger you had not felt in years, the simmering pot inside you turned up to boiling over nothing more than an empty glance. 

You kept to yourself, let him stay seated by the water, and went about to find the two of you food. And it wasn't until the two of you had eaten that you set into getting yourself ready for the long days work waiting for you. Candle in hand you watched him look back out over the water and you couldn't take it anymore. Kicking at the sand you watched the grains puff up in a plume around his legs his hands waving away the dust, brows scrunched as he scowled at you, “Stop looking as if I'm a failure already,” 

“I didn't say anything,” but he knows what you're talking about, the thought had infected him and was spreading as rapidly as the infection you had warned him would happen if he touched his back. 

“You didn't have to say anything, trust me if saving your life meant little to me I wouldn't have done it in the first place, I wouldn't waste my time,” you grab the handfuls of feathers, his eyes locking in on them in hand. 

“You have nothing better to do,” he didn't mean to say it but it was true he felt it and it made him believe it was the only reason why you were helping him. Because you were bored here, sitting in a cave doing nothing that he could see because there was nothing to do but sit. He had made it so that you had something to do. In a moment you would turn him away and tell him not to come back, to find someone else willing to help him. But you wouldn't let him give up on you. 

“No, I don't but I could have done anything else besides this. Hell it might be more fun watching you fall again than it would be to watch you actually fly but I guess we won't know unless we try,” but Kai’s scowl was back and it was better than seeing him feel nothing at all. 

“Why would you say that? You know what it's like-” 

“Exactly why would I help you for nothing at all but boredom? I wouldn't help if I didn't want to see you succeed, I wouldn't be doing this at all I would have let you die. So stop wasting my limited kindness and accept my effort without believing it will lead to nothing but failure,” 

“You would do that, wouldn't you?” because it had caught on him, the idea of being watched as he fell again by someone who would enjoy it. Unlike the first time, it would be worse, he would never come back from that fall, because even if he had forgiven the person who had pushed him he had known the second he felt their foot on his spine that it had been out of pure evil, if it were you doing all this just to watch him fail again it would be worse and there would be no forgiveness. “Build me up only to prove I should never fly again,” 

“You are incredibly cynical,” you blow on your candle, watching the flame heat the ivory colored wax so close to matching the color of his feathers. “Did you ever think that maybe I want you to succeed? That it would help me see you make it out of here more yourself than I ever would have left this place?” you stand behind him, pushing back the first row of feathers as gently as you can before placing the feather over the node you knew a new one would find to grow. You tilt the candle just enough until the wax drips, translucent dots pattering around the area as you watch the way they dry the color blending in perfectly. You let the feather go watching the way it sticks and stayed in place, right where it looked like it had never been gone. 

Kai could not feel the process, not when he was lost in his thoughts. He tried to separate the knowledge of you being a demon away from the proof he had of you being nothing more than someone who was lost. The two could be synonymous is what he reminds himself over again. He had his back to you and was hoping you wouldn't shove a knife right through him but that didn't mean he wasn't worried. 

He did not bring up his thoughts again, he let you work and passed himself off as being hopeful when it was the last thing he felt he was. He was grateful that you cared enough to try even if he believed you had ulterior motives but he would not say out loud that he had any hope when it was not true and if it was it felt wrong to jinx it. 

And so you worked, the slow repetitive motions evening out your heartbeat. And even when the wax fell to your fingers you did not flinch, taking the slight burn and continuing. Even Kai did not back away from the fallen wax when the sparse drops landed on his back. Anything was better than the pain he had felt before and now this felt pleasant, trembling from the shock the first time and accepting any other spot that made itself known to him. 

Then the two of you began to talk, small things that felt so insignificant when you were alone. His first question filled up the silence, “What's your favorite color?” you had not been asked in years something so lighthearted, there was no need to have a favorite when you wouldn't seek it out. 

“I don't know,” you had shrugged, dripping the wax over the next feather in the lineup. By midday, you had done one whole wing. The way the feathers overlapped made it so that you never even saw the wax since most of the top feathers had stayed in place. 

“You don't know? How could you not know your favorite color?” It was hard to explain to him how it didn't matter because Kai would take nothing short of an answer he saw as being good enough. He asked again, asked what it had been like when you were a child, and he listened as you tried to explain.  Answering his own questions and trying to take everything off his mind besides you and who you were. 

He asked you everything and anything he could think of until it was too late and the only thing he could think about was the fact you had stopped and were looking over his stitches again. “Is it bad?” 

“No,” it was the opposite of bad, he healed exceedingly fast because of his angel blood, the once torn flesh already looking a day away from having the stitches removed. “It's doing well, but I ran out of feathers for your right wing,” 

“Oh,” he felt like he had been deflated, his shoulders already bent forward so that you could have the best access to his back and he did not think he could sag anymore, yet he did. Periodically as you added more feathers in you would tap your wax-coated fingertip against his spine asking him to stretch his wings out. In the length of a day, he felt stronger and more like himself as the time passed. He could hold the weight of his wings up fine even with the thread still pulling him together bit by bit. And now he couldn't even finish what had been started. 

You had not thought before you spoke up next, the words spilling out as easily as the continued answers to his constant questions, “I still have a few from my wings if you don't mind the color,” but once it was said it felt right. You had no need for the feathers anymore, the only thing they did was bring you pain. They should have been buried right along with the rest of your wing and now you knew that there was some reason out there why you had kept them besides the reminder of a painful past. If they could help it felt right just as it felt right the second you pulled him out of the moon pool. You could give them up because in some way healing him was healing you. What better than to let your feathers fly again when you could not? 

And Kai did not mind, not when now he was itching to fly again, the hope somehow filtering into him the second you had told him to stretch his wings out again, to try. He let you put the feathers on, looked at the glossy ink color, and had not turned away because now he was tying the strings of his delusion on and he could not bring himself to stop. 

You did not feel loss this time around when seeing your past spilled out in a heap in your lap as you took wax to each one, fastening it to the angel boy's wing to give him one last chance that you wish you could have had. It felt cathartic, watching the way the colors contrasted and blended so well together. Your fingers ran over the line of them the second you had finished. A soft sad smile on your lips as you told Kai to stretch one final time before trying to fly. 

It felt so sudden, so soon from the last time he had taken flight. He hadn't even realized it was his last time at least before the fall. He wondered if you remembered your last time, what it had been like, and if it felt just as insignificant to you as it had to him. Wondered what you would have preferred your last flight to have felt like, where you would have gone. But the thoughts were a distraction to him trying to fly now. 

Kai stretched his wings, the white expanse only broken up by the tip of black at the end of his right wing. He couldn't remember what it felt like to lift off the ground instead of hurtling towards it but then he felt it, his heels lifting first, and the soft beat of his wings echoing in the small space. You stood back watching with a blank expression, tingling all over because you couldn't believe you had done it. He was up, the tips of his shoes just hitting the stirring sand before he felt his wings give out.

Shouting he fell, the distance nothing but a foot but feeling like he had come crashing all the way back down the side of a mountain. His back ached but not from pain but the strain of weakness. “You can try again tomorrow, we just have to keep at it even if it's a little bit every day,” Kai had fallen to his knees, looking up at you with his slumped shoulders and puppy dog eyes. 

“Thank you,” the words still tumbled into you, but it was easier to accept when the fruits of your labor were still right at the forefront of your mind. He had flown even if it was just a foot, it had been more than what either of you had expected. You had worried of his stitches ripping, worried of the feathers falling with only a few beats of wind and they had not, both holding stronger than your conviction. 

Your smile could not be contained, the edges of your mouth trying to hold it back like a stranger at the door because it had been far too long since the last time you felt this happy about anything. “It worked,” disbelief made itself known in your tone but Kai was just as surprised. He did not care at that moment if he got any higher off the ground, only that he did not have to lose so much of himself. “It worked,” he mimicked his smile wobbling as he fought back his tears, “it worked,” 

It was the way he said it last that hit home. You did not think about it hurting so bad to see him succeed, jealousy thick and alive in your blood. You wanted that feeling, you wanted those words to come from you not just from being an aid but from being the project. The words were felt all throughout you as he whispered them, just enough to watch the stress of never again flying dissipate into nothing but happiness. He had been empty and you had tipped in a bucket of everything you had to give, he had gained so much and you lost more than you had to offer him. 

There was nothing more to call it besides envy; sickening jealousy. If you could rip the wings right off his back and give them to yourself in that split second you would have. It was not productive but it was the only thing you could see when you looked at him. But you shook your head as if you had been caught in the rain and needed to get the water from your hair, pushing the thoughts to the side. You would never have what he did, no way for you to have given yourself the chance in the way that you had given it to him. 

So you squashed the feeling, talked yourself out of the need to cry once the two of you had laid down. Your back to the wall again as you look at him with that faint smile on his lips because he was getting to sleep peacefully since the first time he had come here without the aid of his pain. The outline of his wings in the darkness made them look just like a shadow behind him. And it was so hard not to cry as soon as you knew he was asleep. Wanted to turn and face the wall to give yourself the illusion of privacy in your struggle to keep the burn in your throat from turning into a sob you had fallen into to fitful sleep. 

What had awoken Kai was the strain in your voice, the way you muttered, again and again, the word no, the noise of it getting louder and louder until it was impossible to ignore the sound as if it was nothing more than the hum of a mourning bird's song. He opened his eyes and there you were on your makeshift bed, your face pressed into the blanket, your back turned to the sky and you reached back trying to scratch at your shoulder blades. But even in sleep, he could see the way it pained you, hands only just brushing over your shoulders when you found yourself pinned down in sleep. You were whining, crying in your sleep, and it was full of pain. 

Because in your sleep you had dreamt of that first night without your wings. You could not lay on your side, could not lay any other way but with your face to the ground like they were pulling your wings from you all over again. Back facing the sky praying that they didn't come in because you had no strength to turn over, no strength in you except to try and restrain yourself from scratching at the healing wounds, unaided by careful stitches. 

It had been a long time since you had felt the dream so real that it made you believe there was something wrong with your back. Because you were somewhere on the edge of your dream telling yourself it was real, that the pain was right there at the surface and you didn't know it unless you woke up. If only you could just wake up instead of struggling as you had back then. And when you looked to your side there was no kai, just the outline of that wing, the one you had to pull off there dead and waiting for its burial. 

But Kai would not let you sleep through it, not let you scratch at your shoulders and wade through the dreamscape colored in nothing but the shade of a nightmare. He grasped your sleeping hand, the one fluttering at your back like a moth to a flame and curled his fingers between yours. Your hands fit neatly against his, locking in place as if you had been reaching out for him the whole time. His free hand was at your lower back, keeping away from the top where he knew you were trying to reach. And when your eyes opened your gasp followed the way you shot up, back pressed back to the wall and you tried to cure the burning. 

You knew this feeling, the momentary ghost wings pretending they still had feelings for which could be hurt. Everything about you felt as if it was shaking, like a rattling cabinet of glass in an earthquake because your world was shaking at your feet telling you something was wrong but you couldn't tell what it was. “It's okay it was only a nightmare,” Kai tried to sooth, thumb running over the back of your hand that he held in both of his. 

In your dream you had been alone, so much of it had been like it always was. Pain circling around everything you had come to know. But now there had been pain but the faint hurt that Kai had not been there to help you. As if he could go back in time and do what you had for him even if it was no use you had just wanted him to be there next to you. But he hadn't been and in the mix of the sobs you had found his name and prayed he would hear because if they were your dreams you should have been able to grab them by the neck and control them, not follow them down the dark hall that felt neverending. 

But waking up to know he had been here the whole time, knowing that if he had been there he would have helped just the same, settled something inside you that had been overrun with worry. You unfurled your arms from around yourself, throwing them around Kai’s neck and pulling him into a hug. 

He did not freeze up under your hold but melted into you, sliding his hands around your back and pulling you closer to him, your face pressed into the space between his throat and his collarbone. He hadn't known how much a hug would have helped him just as it was helping you. You were warm and clinging to him in a way no one had ever needed him. 

Kai could have sat like that with you in his arms until the sun came up and you would have let him because you needed to be closer and needed something that only he could give you. Your fingers ran through his hair, his hands sliding down your lower back pulling you to straddle his hips because he needed you chest to chest, needed to feel the weight of you against them to make sure that he knew it was real just the same as you did. “You're okay,” he whispered the words, a hammer against the dam you had walled up in place to keep you from ever getting close to anyone ever again. 

It was so quick you are unsure why it was your instant reaction. Your lips kissed over the mole he had right along the column of his throat. The feeling of his words pressed right to your mouth when he hummed your name. Everything was so much easier to do in the half dark, the room alight in that blue glow of the water, the moon still high in the sky as he slipped his hands under your shirt, cool against your heated skin and only making you arch further into him, hips sinking as you kissed up his neck. 

Neither of you stopped the other from the exploration, you curled your fingers in his hair right at the base of his neck and he found any expanse of skin that he could let his fingers touch. And when you finally made your kisses stop right at the edge of his lips he couldn't help but turn his head, chasing after your mouth with his desperate desire to get lost in you. Because once you started neither of you could pull yourself away from stopping. 

He tasted like nothing short of twinkling light filling the darkness that you had let wash over you for far too long. His soft moans caught in your mouth with each drag of your hips now perfectly placed over him and his wanting need. It was the only way to describe the way he was feeling, he did not just want you, he needed you, so hard from just a few devouring kisses that you couldn’t resist. 

You pulled away for only a second standing so that you could take the few clothes you had on off. Kai sitting there watching in awe as you peeled off your shirt, his hands itching to have you back on him with no layers between the two of you, chest to chest but closer now being skin to skin. He reached out for your hips pulling you closer to him so that he could rest his chin on your stomach, looking at you like the fallen angel he was, like you were the only savior he had written in his stars. 

He let his lips pepper over you, your hands brushing the hair from his brow, his fingers dipping into your waistband holding the fabric in a way that asked you for permission to tug them down and off. “Please,” he whispered check pressed to your hip, “I need you,” and you would give him everything he asked for if he continued looking at you in that way as if nothing in the world mattered but you at this moment, not your blood or cruel words, just a boy and a girl seeking out the pleasure of another. 

You let him take your pants off just as easily as he had let you tug him free from his. And when you sank onto him, took all of him in with a gasp at the stretch working its way through you, nothing had felt more right. Because he was curving into you, your lips were his only salvation as you slowly rocked your hips back and forth on him. His face washed in the pleasure of having you his hands growing warmer and warmer as they held your back. You did your best to avoid his stitches, ignoring his wings that twitched along with his body every time you found a new slow rhythm to move to. 

The angle the two of you had was grinding against your pleasure point, your moans so sweet and rumbling against him. He traced up the line of your spine with one hand, keeping the other wrapped around your back to make sure you stayed in the circle of space the two of you had created. You whimpered when he brushed over the scars on your back but did not pull away, letting him have a part of you that you would never give to anyone else because he knew what it was like, he knew what it meant, this level of trust rushing into you almost as fast as your coming orgasm. And right behind him the soft blue light of a will-o-the-wisp on the water, gone as quickly as it had come into your field of vision but you would not have cared in that moment anyway. 

Both of you neared the end, and when you came, the feeling in your belly took all the space to think because it had been reduced to feeling only him and the pleasure he was giving you. His hands felt hot and alive with the power he had believed had been lost to him as you trembled in his hold, swallowing down each little noise you made. He guided you down to the blanket stretched out on the sand, rocking his hips now chasing after his own high watching the hazy look wash over your face as you held onto his shoulders. And behind him his wings spread covering the two of you in that safe space you had craved more than anything, his panting breaths pressed to your neck as he spilled all he had into you. 

You could only focus on him and the way he brought you the closest you had ever felt to being whole again. Wrapped up in nothing but him was close to being saved because you both knew how similar you were and to be seen like this, to be understood, was healing all on its own and you welcomed everything he had to offer. You would let him take you again and again because you felt linked, the jealousy washed away because being held like this was enough to sedate the torment you had found yourself subjected to being here alone for so long. 

And in the morning, when the sun came in on the new day you never felt as excited to see the light as you did in that moment. Because Kai was grinning looking over at you knowing what it meant. He would go out and try again and again until he knew that he could fly even if it took time but here starting today would be the beginning and he would be starting it all with you at his side. 

He did not need help out of the cave's mouth this time, pulling himself up as easily as if he had been doing it his whole life. And he stood, looking out over the water below him and knowing that if he fell he had you there willing to pull him out if he needed it. He looked to the sky the second you pulled yourself up next to him, his wings spreading out and beating softly enough to draw your attention. “We don't have to start so high up. I know it's a short distance to the ground and it won't hurt much if you fall but just in case it might be better to go to the beach,” 

He should have listened to you but he was too excited to think about where he was when all he wanted to do was fly. “Just this once and we can go to the beach and try again if not,” he reached his hand out at his side, low enough to find yours and your welcome squeeze in support. 

“It's okay if you don't get up too high so long as they can carry your weight that's the main issue at the moment because of the stitches,” Kai nodded along half listening as he focused in on the clouds. He pulled your hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it before letting it go once more before trying. 

Both of you held your breath, the seconds passing slowly as you waited for his heels to lift again only this time it was so much higher, Kai was rising, each beat of his wings only raising him and widening your smile. You had done it, you had made him fly again and it didn't hurt but made you elated. 

Kai could feel the wind welcoming him, pushing him up and up until he could see nothing but the expanse of blue and you were gone. It was that thought that had him going back. He could have spent all day up there if he could, if he knew that it wouldn't hurt him if he pushed himself so far but thinking of you watching him without being able to feel it tore into him. He flew back down landing right where he had started and laughed like it had caught him by surprise. 

And he looked at you, his arms open enough for you to run into them, that smile you wore was going to be tattooed along the insides of his eyelids because it was the only thing we wanted to see. Because you had done this for him, you had given him his flight back, his hope, and wrapped in nothing but sarcasm and truth because it was your way. So he hugged you tight, kissed you until your arms were locked around him just right and he took you with him. 

It had only been in dreams that you felt the faint feeling of being weightless. The wind hits your face as you let the laugh bask in the morning sun with you. It had been everything Kai had wanted, his dreams coming to reality as he caught the wind to carry the two of you higher and higher, until it felt as if you both would be made of nothing but clouds and happiness. He knew what it meant to be up in the sky like this again for you and knew that it would never be much of a thank you in return for what you have given back to him. 

And when he found a place to be steady, beating wings behind him, no pain in sight as the two of you looked out over the green and blue land and water below you. He held you close, arms keeping you up and in place even with your dangling feet picking up the memory of what it had been like before when you were a child with nothing to be scared of because you had not been wronged yet, you had only been a girl with wings happy to be in the air. 

Kai pressed his forehead to yours, nose dipping and bumping your cheek as he kissed the edge of your smile. And it didn't matter anymore if you felt weak, or had been told it was all that you had ever been because you had saved someone worthy of being saved, picking up yourself along the way and flying through him when flying was only a word thrown around to hurt you. You had put his wings back when they had been nothing but torn flesh and nothing made you feel this good, only the knowledge that you knew he would take you again if you asked. 

The trail of your fingers did not cross your mind when you felt this good, your subconscious working over the thoughts you were having and putting together the puzzle you had made by following the seam of his stitches. You could feel the knot you had tied to secure the wing in place, the spot you would have to cut away when pulling the thread free after you had checked again that his fast healing had done its job. 

But the ghosting of your touch on the closed wound was akin to you pushing him into a frozen lake, the ice breaking beneath him and reminding him just how heavy he had been when he had nothing behind him to support his body. It was the fear mixed with your words that you had said what felt like ages ago, as if when the two of you had shared then you had been different people. But here at his core, he felt it, that foreboding and gut-turning maggots wiggling into his skin and poisoning his already made-up mind. ‘Hell it might be more fun watching you fall again than it would be to watch you actually fly but I guess we won't know unless we try,’ you had said those words, he had rolled them over in his head over and over again because it had not sit right with him, but he could not remember the rest of the conversation, not when your fingers were messing with the stitches right on his back like you were fulfilling a promise. 

It had been quick, the intrusive thought taking over because all he could think again was that you two were similar. He would have helped you yes but if it had been him or you at the bottom of the water and both of you had to pick who got their wings back he would not hesitate to make sure he felt this feeling again. And having you here, threat alive in his mind he could not help himself from leaning into the cruelty if it meant saving this. 

And so he let you go. 

When in his arms it had been the illusion of flying, still grounded to him just by holding on but falling from this height was even closer to the feeling of flying. The wind rippled around you as you fell in slow motion, his sweet angelic face washed in shock at what he had done and all you could do was think about how you would forgive him because you knew that if it had been you in his place, demon or angel, you would have done the same. 

You did not feel heavy, you felt free and the laughter echoed around Kai as he realized his mistake. His fear had control over him in ways he had not expected it to and his shouting did nothing to make it any closer to you as he tried to catch up to your falling form hurtling closer to a waiting grave that had once had a tombstone with his name written on it. You had missed this feeling of freefall and descent, missed the open arms of the wing kissing your skin in the same way Kai’s hands had only the night before. 

And then the feathers started to rain. A few white tumbled down along with you as you looked up at him, wax melting from being so close to the sun for only a short time. The edge of his right wing was still tipped in black as if your feathers had infected his mind and thoughts as if they had been the cause of the drop and not the sickening worry he had of losing everything that had just been returned to him. But you could not stop yourself from thinking again of the story you had been told as a child. That demons had been the same as angels, cast out for the bitterness lingering in their near-empty hearts. You two were the same, cast out, and only now did he truly see it. 

The last of his feathers started to come free, his control over his wings lessening as the two of you fell, the sky a perfect image of just you and him with feathers all around as it had always been. The spotting of inky black feathers floating around you, finally ready to be buried alongside the body they had come from. You reached out, Kai’s hand already trying to find anything on you to grasp but was just far enough to miss by the brush of his fingertips. The expanse of blue widens around you and is impossible to tell if you were rising in the sky or sinking closer to the waiting ocean. 

If falling felt like flying you would welcome the feeling because anything was better than nothing at all. 

<333 thank you to @beomiracles who wrote the opening paragraph that is italicized for this event so that we could all start on the same page- taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @no1likemybbgcharlie @chasingthatjjunie @taegyutomorrow @izzyy-stuff @yeoningz @filmnings @jellymochii @dawngyu @bamgyuuuri @lickingan0rchid @felixleftchickennugget @thetxtdevil @luvsicktyun @hyukascampfire @prince-jjae @liverspaghett want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join!want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[celtrist]

OWNER BAD END ROUTE

Alastor vanished again. He's kept in his owner's little hideaway where no one could think to find him. They've stitched his mouth shut and kept him bound. Whether just by simply tying up, collar, or wall shackles. The restraints will vary.

He does have a shock collar on him at all times, just in case he ever does manage to find a way out. In addition, there is a tracker on the collar, a double measure in case the shocks don't work for whatever reason or his owner needs to take him out. Alastor is treated like a pet with basic training and his meals are served in dog bowls. He's cleaned and taken care of like any good pet owner would take care of their dog.

Alastor passes his time with self-mutilation, sleeping, or trying to fix a radio. His owner gives him new toys on occasion, from as simple as a coloring book to a good bottle of whisky. But they've found the most success in the broken radio they left as a present one time. They frequently give Alastor parts to work on it, but the radio is beyond fixing. It's completely broken and his owner gives it to himself as a good means for controlling, to sate his boredom rather than self-mutilating, and to give Alastor a false sense of hope. The amount of parts accumulated is scattered across the room, and Alastor tends to be defensive about his owner trying to take even the tiniest dials.

They will occasionally give mercy and bring in a working radio to play some music for Alastor. However, they do need to be in the room when they do so, if not only give Alastor a limited amount of time with it.

For the most part, they keep Alastor primarily for companionship. Having his head in their lap, cuddling, is really what you would want a normal pet for. Of course, being more physically intimate isn't off the table, but they do like to just spend time with Alastor and remind him that they own him. They will occasionally pamper and spoil Alastor with access to an actual bedroom if he's being really good for them lately. But his owner both enjoys the moments of being able to spoil him like the good pet he is and the hopelessness they always find in the cold, dungeon-esc room he stays in.

Alastor is more or less mute with his stitched mouth (his mouth opens enough to eat and drink but keeps closed enough so he can't speak), so most of the time he is in a terrible room filled with only silence. Alastor was given very little room for negotiation with his soul owner and quickly realized there wasn't much he could do to get out of his predicament. The place he was stuck in gave no way of escape, and any opportunities to be let out or leave to be pampered in a nicer bedroom wouldn't mean much when his owner could pop him back with no issues.

The best he could do was find a way for someone stronger to help break his contract by force, but then Alastor would just lock himself up in ANOTHER situation he didn't want to be in.

At this point, Alastor was just so tired of everything that, why not just stick with the simple? He didn't like being restrained 24/7 or having little lights and sound in his room, but he had his radio to fix, good meals, and he knew what to expect each day. Hell, as long as he was good enough he could be more or less allowed to stay in that pampered room of his owner's, and that's more or less luxury at that point. Sure Alastor is powerless, silenced, and he's pretty sure he's slowly going insane with how much time he's spend talking to himself (in his head) now that his shadows were gone. But life wasn't atrocious, was it?

Of course, catching glimpses in mirrors startled him. He felt the need to hurt when fixing radios wasn't doing enough. He wanted to LEAVE and he desperately would give anything to have his old life back. Alastor never regretted his deal more than ever, but this was his lot in life. He couldn't perform his end of the deal to get out of it like this, and no one could really help him. The one attempt he had made that should've given no room for his owner to be aware of him leaving had him back on the hard floor of his room rather quickly, and a brutal punishment that led the typically touch-averse deer to be touch-starved and eating up the pets his owner gave once they paid attention to him.

Alastor isn't happy. There's no debate there. But he certainly tries to delude himself into thinking it isn't so bad. He'll plead with his owner every so often, and they'll give a look of genuine debate before sending him back to his room since begging didn't deserve the pamper room. Alastor is completely loss and isn't sure what to do. With himself, for his predicament, his sanity, anything.

But, he has a radio to fix.

[thebluester2020]

[TWST] "Umbrella"

Summary: You hadn’t had the chance to see Malleus for a while due to your busy schedule as of late. But after Malleus suggests that you two briefly hang out in between your classes, despite it practically raining cats and dogs, you won’t let bad weather stop you from your plans to see him!

Warning(s): Porn with plot ngl, Public sex(In a way? Reader and Malleus do it in the Botanical Gardens but no one's there), Munch Malleus.

Side Note(s): This is what listening to Rihanna’s “Umbrella” on repeat does to a mf. Also, there may some *slight* OOC Malleus in here. I’m still not on the Diasomnia book yet *sigh*

You haven’t had the chance to see Malleus lately. It seemed like everything in the universe wanted to keep you away from him suddenly!

If it wasn’t your classes, it was your homework and when Malleus offered to help you with your homework, you were all of a sudden whisked away to do busy work for Crowley. If those two options didn’t come in your path then you were tired from rushing around campus all day, sitting through lecture after lecture and the toll of being in an unfamiliar world taking it’s toll on you! Sure, the amount was dwindling by the day as you began to forget what your old life used to be like but, you still thought about home here and there.

But in the face of Malleus? Not to mention, the idea of leaving him-

The idea of returning became less and less appealing.

“Class dismissed, pups!” Crewel shouted as soon as the bell had rung, loudly signaling that class was over for the day. You wiped the sweat from your brow, fanning your face too for good measure as the experiment you had to perform with Grim dealt with a ton of fire magic. You were certain that you were going to smell like smoke and flames for weeks on end after this! And yet, once you had packed your things and turned down the long hallway out of the classroom…your day was immediately brightened, all by spotting a familiar set of horns up ahead.

You called out “Malleus!” With a bright grin, as if all the tiredness had left your body in a single instance.

The pair of horns stopped moving, moving left and right before stilling to look straight ahead as you pushed and wormed your way through the crowd before you were standing in front of your boyfriend. He looked as princely and perfect as ever it seemed, even though it was the middle of the day, it seemed that nothing could get even a single hair to get out of place!

“Y/N.” Malleus said your name with such softness that it made your heart swoon and make your mind suddenly feel as if it had been dropped onto a bed of clouds. “How have you been? It’s been-“

“A while,” You finished for him as your face began to flush red. “I…I’m not avoiding you! I-I hope you don’t see it that way.”

The Briar prince then placed a hand on your head, a silent way of comforting you before he slowly shook your head. “I am grateful that you merely wish to be in my presence, nothing could make me think you’re avoiding me.” He said. “And besides, even if such a thing were the case. I would talk to you first.” Malleus then looked around him to see that the crowds of passing periods had mostly died down to nothing but a few late stragglers here and there, as much as he wanted to continue talking to you…stop time right this instance if it meant that he would remain in your presence for but a second longer…he knew that you were busy. Especially seeing as your magic wasn’t your own and you relied on another for it.

"Are you free to spend time together this afternoon? I want to see you." His words practically flew out of his mouth before he could fully think about what he was asking of you. Suddenly, he worried that you would decline, that you would be busy around lunchtime or that you had already made plans around that time! He tried telling himself that the rejection was fine, that you had your own hobbies and friends to tend to but—

"O-Of course!" You responded excitedly, sweeping away his thoughts in a heartbeat as you practically glowed with excitement. Not a single answer that was along the lines of 'no' ever dared to cross your mind as you nearly jumped up and down like an excited toddler. "Where do you want to meet?"

"Near Ramshackle," He said with a soft smile. "There's no pressure, of course, I just...really want to see you, we've barely had any time to ourselves these days. Especially without interruption." You couldn't have agreed more as ideas of what the both of you would do during your afternoon date floated around in your head, all before you placed a kiss on Malleus' cheek. "It's a date then." You nearly burst into flames when Malleus responded via kissing you on the lips, a chaste and fleeting gesture but filled with enough passion and love to power a dozen suns.

"I look forward to our date then."

. . .

When you heard the thunder, you thought the world itself was trying to play some cruel trick on you. When it was close to your last class ending, you desperately tricked and told yourself that it was just your imagination! After all, no one else in the class even thought to react to the sound of an oncoming rainstorm much less your teacher! But...the second the bell had rung and you had stepped out of the building...the sight of rain practically pouring down from the heavens as if someone up there had tipped over a bucket, disappointment and annoyance filled your entire body in a rush. You were looking forward to your date, you didn't want a single thing to take away the possibility of you being able to hang out with your boyfriend after so long.

So, with a strike of determination all of a sudden, you pulled your backpack over your head and began to run as fast as you could through the rain. Yet, with the rain coming down so hard, the ground started to become slippery, your vision becoming blurrier and blurrier by the second it seemed while your backpack was starting to become drenched, all before...you found yourself standing in the middle of the rain, the mist fogging up the distance ahead of you without leaving a single clue as to where you were supposed to turn next.

"Shit..." You cursed to yourself quietly. You almost had a mind to tear up, all you wanted was a peaceful impromptu date! And yet—you gasped when you felt a warm force gently tug you somewhere out of the pouring rain. Before you knew it, your feet were no longer standing on a cobblestone path but soft grass, and eventually...shelter. The smell of flowers and all types of magical herbs entered your nostrils, combined with the misty scent due to the rain, it made for a pleasant yet crisp scent. Eventually, however, you took your backpack from above your head to drop it next to your feet. "Malleus?" You looked over to see him peacefully sitting on one of the benches, smiling as if he hadn't done a single thing.

He gently chuckled as he rose from his seat to walk over to you. "You're drenched, my love." You sighed, embarrassed. "The rain came out of nowhere..." You mumbled.

He nodded his head, doing his best to dry you off with his magic until his eyes widened at your shirt practically being see-through. He cleared his throat and looked away, the sight of his embarrassed expression confusing you for only a brief moment until you blushed yourself and quickly covered yourself as best you could. "S-Sorry..." You mumbled. "Maybe it would have been better to have postponed this—"

"No." He interrupted you. "...I wouldn't want to go any longer without seeing you, but...I didn't mean for you to risk getting sick, having your clothes ruined because of me."

You immediately took his face into your hands, huffing in annoyance. "Don't say that! I'd run through a million rainstorms if it meant that I'd get to see you in the end!" The both of you stared at each other for a long while, basking in each other's presence whilst Malleus basked in the sight of love swimming around in your eyes. He could hardly contain himself from kissing you silly as his hands came to rest on your hips, yet, as his eyes steadily traveled from your gaze and eventually rested on your slightly exposed breasts...a slow exhale left his lips as a familiar warmth started to travel through his being.

Yet, he tried to remain respectful of the fact that you may have been cold. "Forgive me," He looked away from your chest. "We need to get you a change of clothes, you...must be cold, right?" When you felt his grip around your waist tighten, your hands traveled from his face to rest on his shoulders as a smirk steadily crept onto your lips.

"Why don't you warm me up? We're alone." Your sex throbbed at the sight of Malleus' eyes beginning to darken with lust when you tugged him closer to you, feeling the tent in his pants against your stomach. "Are you sure?" He asked, searching for any signs of hesitancy in your eyes before you nodded your head eagerly.

"Please."

He could hardly wait for another second as his lips suddenly smashed against your own, weeks of unbridled passion and longing contained in each breathless moan that left his lips, his hands grabbing at every part of your skin as he struggled not to simply tear through your clothing in order to get to your skin even sooner. "My love..." He moaned. His hands flew to the buttons on your shirt, unbuttoning them with skill and precision before he was graced by the sight of your skin. Like a dog suddenly introduced to a slab of meat, his mouth watered at the sight, almost struggling to figure out which part of your skin he wanted to kiss first until he finally decided on the valley between your breasts.

"M-Malleus—!" You grabbed at his hair when his head suddenly dived down to begin peppering kisses along your breasts, his sharp nails leaving goosebumps in their wake as they teasingly trailed up the sides of your body and eventually to the clasp of your bra. "So pretty, my love." He praised, accentuating each word with a kiss to your chest until he latched onto one of your nipples. The feeling of his long tongue rolling around your nipple made your cunt clench around nothing, slick beginning to pool in the center of your panties before beginning to leak down your thighs. "Malleus..." You continued to whine his name like a prayer as he continued to suck and lightly bite at your nipple, sinfully lewd groans mixed with soft moans and gasps leaving your boyfriend's lips as he looked up at you as if you held the entire world in your grasp.

You wanted nothing more than to sit on his cock, ride him all in an effort to hear more of his delicious noise but...he was nothing if not attentive to your needs first and foremost before his own.

"Please..." You whispered as you found enough strength to weakly move one of your hands from Malleus' hair and to his hair. He groaned at the contact as you gently tugged him from your chest. "D-Down there..." He smirked at your shyness to tell him exactly what you wanted him to do to your cunt. Another time, he'd tease you and urge you to tell him exactly what you wanted to ensure your utmost pleasure, yet...as he began to see the rain begin to steadily let up. He knew he'd have to hurry things along.

"So needy~" He purred. Slowly, Malleus lowered himself to a crouch, the feeling of his warm breath on your clothed pussy as he gently lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder making you lick your lips in anticipation. His hands slipped down your sides, eventually coming to rest themselves on your thighs before his fingers found their way underneath your skirt. You were practically dripping, the arousing sight making the prince almost wish that the rain would last forever if it meant that he'd have a chance to sink himself into your heat. Yet, he was willing to take whatever he could get— "You don't have to stare..." Your embarrassed murmur tore him from his perverted thoughts, causing him to chuckle in response.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, my dear—" His finger slowly moved your soaked underwear to the side, strings of your glistening slick still connecting you to your panties while more oozed out from your twitching sex. "—we've done this countless times before, haven't we?" Before you could answer, you felt Malleus' thumb begin to gently rub circles onto your clit before he started to teasingly kiss and lick at your sex, stealing your breath right from your lungs as you struggled to keep yourself standing upright. His grip on your thighs tightened as his soft lips wrapped around your bud, his tongue beginning to flick it and rub it in circles.

Never once did his eyes leave your own as Malleus ate you out, one of your hands continuing to massage your boob while another slowly traveled to softly pet at Malleus' head before coming to grip at one of his horns. He grunted into your cunt, the vibration making you buck into his mouth before...the sight of his hand beginning to travel to free his cock from his pants nearly made you cum right then and there. Malleus felt like a pervert, fisting his cock while he ate you out like a man starved but he couldn't help it! You tasted soooo good and your attempts to keep yourself quiet but ultimately failing only made more pre-cum drip down from his cock and onto the grass below.

"You're dripping, my love, does my mouth feel that good?" You nodded your head, the telltale sign of your orgasm beginning to approach shown in the way that your eyes began to fog over and your thighs began to twitch. He then pushed one his slender fingers into your sex before curling up, finding your g-spot with ease and making you buck even more. Malleus smirk, wrapping his lips around your bud once more to work in tandem with his fingers. "Fuck..." You moaned. "Malleus—"

"I know, my love, I know." He whispered against your cunt, his voice soft and full of lust as he increased the movements of his fingers as he sucked your clit even harder. You were only able to moan and whine as your body shook with pleasure, lewd squelching and groaning coming from between your thighs as Malleus both worked to bring you to your high as well as continue to pleasure himself, slick noises emitting from his fist as he fucked his hand even faster. "M-Malleus...I'm gonna—c-cumming—" Malleus nodded between your legs, quickening his pace as he pressed his face even deeper into your cunt. Your grip on his horn tightened, making him moan as you came with a silent scream.

Your back arched as Malleus continued to eat you out, the slight pains of overstimulation making you whine as he continued to fist his cock, his moans vibrating against your clit before he suddenly stilled, releasing your clit with a lewd 'pop' as he hissed and whined out your name. The both of you stood there for a while longer, letting yourselves fall back down to earth from your orgasms until...the feeling of Malleus pressing a kiss to your thigh and slowly taking your leg from his thigh snapped you from your hazy brain.

Then, the prince chuckled as he adjusted himself back into his pants, standing back up and quickly wrapping an arm around your back to steady you. "Look, the rain stopped."

[more-mara]

Could I get a drabble where CarCar switch bodies for a bit? Maybe there was a small incident on the track, and the next thing they know, they wake up the next day not knowing where they are and everything feeling off

This is probably not exactly what you had in mind but I really couldn’t help myself as this exact scenario has been on my mind recently 😭

Carlos thought they were over this shit.

Contact with Oscar seemed to be a thing of the past and Carlos was confident going into the new season that it was something he would not have to worry about. Sure, the Williams was performing way better than anyone could have predicted but the McLaren’s were a whole other beast. And yet- yet they found eachother on track once more. It was nothing crazy, but it pissed Carlos off more than it probably should have. If it was any other driver, he probably wouldn’t have cared this much, but it was Oscar so of course he had to let it simmer

He blinked his heavy eyes open, his head feeling like it was spitting in half as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He was only half awake when he realised the presence behind him, pressing into his back as an arm was firmly slung around his waist. Carlos froze, he didn’t remember bringing someone back to his room last night.

He slowly turned his head to the side, bending backwards to try and catch a glimpse of the person. His jaw dropped open immediately when he saw their face.

Lando. Peacefully asleep with his head smothered into Carlos’ neck and his arms wrapped tightly around his body.

What the fuck? Did he and Lando…no, surely not. Carlos’ body felt heavy as he tried to wriggle out of Landos hold, desperately trying not to wake him as he peeled himself out of the bed. His muscles felt strange and his back hurt like hell- he felt like he’d been hit by a truck and the bruises scattered along his body seemed to indicate that something had went down. Carlos tried not to groan as he stood up, nearly tripping over a shoe as he made his way to the bathroom. His body felt unfamiliar and he felt a little like a newborn deer as he tried to navigate his way around the room. He felt drunk somehow, despite not having touched a drop of alcohol in the past week.

He quickly noted the sheer volume of papaya laying on the floor- they weren’t in Carlos’ room then.

He creeped into the bathroom slowly, turning on the light as quietly as possible with the sole intention of trying to pull himself back together and figure out why the fuck he and Lando were sharing a bed.

Only, when his eyes reached the mirror, it wasn’t him looking back.

It was Oscar fucking Piastri. What the fuck?!

***

Not again. Not this shit again.

Oscar had pretty much had it with these random bouts of body swap curses that seemed to solely target him. Realistically, he knew it was a completely random coincindence that he kept getting hit with them but still, waking up as Carlos fucking Sainz was not how he planned to spend his morning.

All he wanted was to wake up wrapped in Landos warm embrace, his hands caressing his skin and his lips ghosting over his neck. But no, Carlos had to go and ruin that for him.

Oscar knew it was a matter of waiting it out. There was no magic solution so it was probably best that he just hangs out in Carlos’ hotel room until they swap back. He didn’t even care that Carlos was probably having some kind of crisis when he realised that Lando and Oscar were fucking.

The strange thing, however, was the notifications blowing up Carlos’ phone. He should look…he shouldn’t. That’s like a total breach of Carlos’ privacy and morally wrong to do but Oscar just couldn’t help himself as he reached for the phone- the Face ID unlocking it easily.

Oscars eyes went wide when he looked at the messages from the culprit who was causing so much ruckus. The actual contact name didn’t give much away, but Oscar could guess who it was pretty fucking quickly based on the messages.

M 💙

Babe?

U up yet?

I'm frustrated as hell.

Like

In a sexy way

Not a “I’m gonna kill someone” way

Not that I would kill somebody

But you know what I mean

Carlos?

You can’t still be sleeping

Baby?

Wake the hell up

Wanna see something?

[image of M lying on the bed, his legs spread and his hand holding his cock as his other hand lays leisurely behind his head- face in view]

Don’t open that in public

Please god say you’re not in a meeting or some shit

Anyway, I just came no thanks to you!

You’d better make it up to me later

I wanna feel you for a week

Okay…well. Oscar had just learned way more than he needed to know about 4x world champion, MAX VERSTAPPEN.

So, Carlos and Max, huh? Interesting. More interesting that Max was apparently a bottom.

Great, now he’s lost another bet to Lando. It’s probably not in good taste to be betting on whether their fellow coworkers are tops or bottoms anyway but Lando and Oscar were doing it nonetheless and apparently Lando had hit the nail on the fucking head.

Despite his incessant curiosity to see what other weird shit Carlos and Max had going on in their DMs, Oscar clicked onto his own contact instead, quickly drafting a message.

Oscar Piastri (McLaren F1)

Hey mate, don’t do anything weird in my body.

Before you ask, yes me and Lando are together

Interesting about you and max

But that’s not the point

Plz don’t sleep with my bf while you’re me

We’ll swap back in a few hours anyway

Good luck

What the fuck!?