#really it was just the third movement i fucked up cause i kept getting hopelessly lost the other mvts were okay but like

[supercantaloupe]

so not only am i Not playing principal on the beethoven, that was probably the worst reading i've ever done in orchestra. great

[cheekyvank]

ok i’ve had time to process. (relatively incoherent) thoughts/spoilers under the cut

Ok the first thing I noticed is Phil is fucking radiant. Like I knew that but experiencing it in person is a whole different thing. I genuinely could not keep my eyes off him, even in times when Dan was yapping, like I actually might have missed a couple things cause I just couldn’t stop staring at Phil. His hair was a bit mussed up and it made him look even prettier somehow.

The second thing I noticed is Phil really is the funniest man alive lmao. I knew this too but again, experiencing it irl is just so much. His timing is perfect and the parts that were improvised were so so good. I love him so much. King of comedy.

Third thing was Dan is so big. I don’t mean tall (though that too) but just big. Big personality, big movements, big ideas, big voice. Which again, I knew, but irl it’s just so much more and once again I am soooo hopelessly endeared by him. Danny boy I love you so much with your crazy movements and your huge expressions and your loud ass voice, please don’t ever change. You really are something special.

Also, they’re really fucking good at this. I didn’t noticed any major flubs (ie forgetting lines) but even the couple times where you could tell they got a bit tongue tied or something they played it off so smoothly. The whole thing was so fucking good, and having spoilers honestly didn’t make it any less so. And the song fucking slays they better record that shit (and make a music video… please I beg…)

other tidbits:

-no amount of spoilers prepares you for the dioramas irl. it was So Much and so funny. at one point phil made the dolls 69 and dan said no they said kissing on the mouth and turned them around to be kissing on the mouth instead of the . uh

-dan bent his doll over the breakfast bar and phil made his doll do the uh. motions. but his doll wasn’t close enough or at the right angle to dan’s to look like fucking so from where i was at it was honestly closer to looking like phil had his face in dan’s ass 💀

-conspiracies were toilet, sleepless night with phil, bus, and wedding (i do think people were shouting for vegas louder but they did wedding anyway)

-when dan got tangled in the lights he said ‘help me dad’ and continued to walk around and make it worse while phil kind of chased him around. dan literally could’ve just picked his foot up and he would’ve been out but he just kept doing it until phil got him out and made to spank him with them to which dan said something like ‘i asked you to help me i didn’t think you were gonna whip me’ or something

-at one point dan said something about getting down on our level and he got down on the floor and did something but I was too distracted staring at phil (lmao) and didn’t realize until everyone was laughing rip

-dan was doing absolutely crazy things with his body the whole time. especially that super wide stance squat he does. Phil kept asking what he’s doing and at one point seemed genuinely concerned that he was going to rip his pants which like. i was also genuinely concerned about idk how those things are still intact

-lawyer dan banned the gays, wrote erotic fiction about cheese curds, and went to jail for being horny. we killed him

-doctor phil - I can’t remember the first question AT ALL lmao but he liked to help old ladies piss and had a secret collection of Milphs. when they were on the screen the second time every answer had ‘and cum’ added to them lmao. So he helped old ladies piss and cum and had a secret collection of milphs and cum. we also killed him

-when they ran around the venue they went down an enclosed stairwell and a fan was in there and they had to plaster themself to the wall as dan and phil and the camera guy ran past lmao

-the silicone 6 pack was not as weird irl as it looked to me in pictures

-sister daniel’s shorts were invisible from the audience. once i looked closely i could see them but at first i genuinely thought she had her tiny underwear back and i nearly fell out of my seat.

-when they talked about people invading their privacy and bothering their families and stuff someone shouted ‘i’m so sorry phil!’ like they were personally responsible for all of it lmao it was very cute

-they slayed the song so severely. like it fucking slaps. honestly they can both sing pretty well and they both did so good with the dance too. so fucking good

-the ukulele broke before dan even smashed it. it just fell apart midair LMAO it was so funny

[whumpcollector]

Kai and 07: Flu Season

I return. The semester is over, my schedule is clear and I’m ready to fucking WRITE baby. This the next piece in Kai and 07′s story. I hope you all enjoy it.

CW: Hospitals, drugging in a medical context, dehumanization, slavery, institutionalized slavery, vomiting. (If I’ve missed anything let me know)

07 knelt on the bathroom floor, hands gripping the rim on the toilet bowl and sweat pouring down their face. They had spent the past few minutes vomiting out the contents of their stomach, bile burning their throat and mouth. They breathed heavily, eyes locked on the closed bathroom door. They had tried to keep quiet, but there was only so much they could do and a possibility that they may have woken master made them want to be sick again. 

A minute passed and there was no sound of footsteps, no slamming open of the bathroom door and grabbing of hair as master dragged them into the living room to punish them for daring to make enough noise to wake him. Daring to be sick enough to be an annoyance. 

They let out a sigh of relief, this was the second night in a row they had managed to not wake master, and they hoped that they wouldn’t need to press their luck for a third. Luck had never been on their side before.

With a low groan they dragged themselves off of the bathroom. Their legs felt like jelly and their head swam as they limped back to their room. A shiver ran down their spine and they hugged their stomach, wanting to rush back towards the warmth of their blankets while also wanting to avoid moving too fast and making any noise.

07 reached their room, walking in and closing the door softly behind them. They flopped onto the floor of the closet, their little safe haven, and wrapped the blankets around themselves. A quick glance at a digital clock that master had installed showed that it was close to 3 am. They groaned softly, another bad night of sleep. Maybe they could push their luck and change the alarm from 6 to 7. Master usually did not wake up until a few hours after them.

They reached for the clock, fingers hovering over the alarm setting button before pulling their hand back. It wasn’t worth the risk. Master had given them many gifts lately, if they were caught being lazy the consequences would be withering. They could tough it out, they had been through worse. 

Another shiver hit them and they pulled the blankets tighter around themselves. All of their body hurt, and their stomach was churning again. They hadn’t felt this bad in a long time. But they would be ok, when they woke up they would be ok. They desperately, fervently hoped that they would be ok.

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The alarm on the digital clock beeped noisily as 07 was ripped from their sleep. They were not ok. They were as far from ok as one could be while still being alive. Their head was pounding, their throat was dry and scratchy, and the mere thought of moving made their limbs ache. 

The possibility that they were dying came across their mind. It didn’t seem unlikely at this point. A part of them were scared by the prospect, another felt like dying and letting this be over with wouldn’t be so bad. Another, smaller, almost utterly silent part wondered if maybe they could beg Master to take a day to recover. 

No, no, no never no. Master may have been understanding and kind, but his generosity wasn’t limitless, it couldn't be. Asking for anything after being given so much would be nothing short of an insult. They couldn’t afford to do that, they wouldn’t be able to take a punishment. They just wouldn’t. 

The alarm sounded again, the loud noise making 07’s head pound. They limply turned the clock off. A warm silence fell and 07’s eyes grew heavy. It would be so nice, so easy to just fall back asleep. 

NO! They forced their eyes open and dragged themselves upright, legs shaking and vision swimming as they did. They...they had to get up. Had to work. Had to stay on Master’s good side. They could do this, they could do this. 

Their steps towards the door were slow and shaky, each one feeling harder than the last. They pushed the door open slowly, stumbling forward slightly into the hallway. A draft blew through the house, sending another wave of shivers down 07’s spine. They warped their arms tightly around their body and made their way into the kitchen.

The kitchen sink still had dishes in it, remnants from last night. 07 looked at them hopelessly. They had left them there because they had wanted to go to bed a bit early, telling themselves they would clean them when they felt better the next day. Now the small stack of plates and cutlery looked like a mountain to climb. 

07 stood in the kitchen, trying to psych themselves up. It wouldn’t be too much work. Breakfast could be quick, some toast and eggs. Master Kai had been busy the past few days, a big order for an important client as he had put it. A smaller breakfast wouldn’t be something he would mind. Then they could do all the dishes in one batch. That was manageable. Alright, time to g-

The sound of the refrigerator opening snapped 07 out of their thoughts. Their eyes went wide as they saw Master Kai rummaging through the contents of the fridge. They quickly looked to the wall clock. 8:15?! Had they really just stood there like a useless piece of shit for more than an hour? Their gaze snapped back to Master, who was pulling out an old box of Chinese take-out. 

He glanced at them over his shoulder. “Morning, 07.” The greeting was quick, and Master was already leaving after grabbing a fork from the drawer. “Lotta work to do, I’ll be at the forge if you need me”.

07 watched gormlessly as Master turned the corner and disappeared. Their brain took a few seconds to process what was happening. They blinked once, then twice, and then felt their knees buckle as a wave of panic hit them.

They had just STOOD there! And did NOTHING! In front of their MASTER! They didn’t have breakfast ready and there were dishes in the sink and they had just stood around while their master was right there they didn’t even bow or respond to him an-

A fit of coughing knocked them out of their spiraling. The rough sound echoed through the empty house and 07 suddenly felt very cold and very alone. They took a moment to recover and pull themselves together. Well, Master was out at the forge and breakfast seemed to be...taken care of? That meant they could clean the dishes at least. And when they were done with that they could maybe take it slow, there wasn’t much to do and what housework was left was pretty light. 

07 took a deep breath and walked to the sink. Their arms ached and their vision was spotty, but they had done harder work under worse conditions. All they had to do was wash the dishes and maybe vacuum or clean the windows. Nothing they couldn’t handle. They could do this, they would be fine. 

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Kai brought his hammer down onto the hot blade in front of him, sending up a spray of sparks and finally molding it into the shape he wanted. He grabbed the blade with a pair of tongs and dunked into a nearby bucket of water, waving away the cloud of smoke that emanated from the cooling metal. 

Last one for the day, not bad progress he mused as he set about shutting the forge off and putting his tools back into place. It would be close but he���d probably finish up by the deadline. Hopefully he would at least. Even if he didn’t he was on good terms with the client, he could probably get away with a slight delay. 

It was getting dark. Winter days were short and forging in the cold of night wasn’t something Kai was interested in. He checked his watch...6:30 pm. It was a bit early for dinner, but he had skipped lunch. Oh well, 07 probably wouldn’t mind cooking a bit earlier than usual. 

Even if they did mind they probably wouldn’t say anything. The thought bothered Kai. He was still getting used to the whole...having a slave thing. All that power over someone else, it made him feel...weird. He didn’t like it. He was an idiot who shouldn’t be given responsibility over a cactus, much less a whole entire person. Still, it seemed like 07 was doing alright so maybe he wasn’t doing too badly.

Cold air rushed in after him as he entered his house. A loud noise was coming from the living room, sounded like 07 was vacuuming. Kai shot a quick glance towards the floor. Hm, it seemed like 07 vacuumed the whole house. Much as he still felt weird about having them around, Kai couldn’t deny they were a godsend. His place hadn’t been this well kept since, well since he moved in fifteen years ago.  

He should find a way to thank them for all their work. Maybe a gift of some sort? Some trinket to put in their room to add a bit of decoration. He didn’t know what their aesthetic tastes were though. They liked animals...maybe something zoo themed?

Maybe they wouldn’t mind hanging a sword on their wall. Everyone likes swords right?

Kai mused to himself as took off his jacket, hanging it over his arm and making his way into the living room. Sure enough 07 was busy vacuuming the floor, their movements slow and deliberate and their focus squarely on the task at hand. Kai stood back and watched them for a bit. They looked so intense, they always did. Like every small chore was the most important thing they would ever do in their life. It was endearing, at least it would be if Kai didn’t have…less than pleasant theories regarding where that attitude came from. 

As Kai watched them he noticed something was off. At a closer glance their movements were less deliberate and more…sluggish. They were hunched over, their legs were shaky, and their face was scrunched up like they were in pain. 

“Hey 07, you alright?” Kai asked, walking towards them. They didn’t respond, their gaze still on the vacuum like they were in a trance. “Hey! 07!”

07’s eyes shot open and they turned abruptly towards Kai. Their sudden movement caused them to drop the vacuum handle, and it hit the ground with a dull thud. They turned to look at the vacuum, then back to Kai, then back to the vacuum before their eyes rolled into their head and they crumpled to the floor. 

“SHIT!” Kai rushed to them, kneeling down next to their body and placing a hand on their forehead. Jesus fucking shit they were burning up. His mind raced, what should he do. Fuck, what should he do. Maybe...fuck it, he wasn’t taking any chances. He wrapped them in his jacket and picked them up. They were light...really fucking light. Whatever, more pressing matters at hand. 

He dashed to the front door, grabbing his keys off the hook on the wall. The driveway was clear, thankfully. He gently placed 07 down in the backseat of the car, strapping them down with the seat belts so they wouldn’t roll onto the floor. Kai jammed the key into the ignition, swearing heavily as the engine stalled due to the cold. Once the vehicle started up Kai all but barreled out of the driveway and began making a beeline for the local hospital.

The roads were empty and Kai drove as fast as wasn’t suicidal. Couldn’t get 07 the help they needed if he wrapped his car around a fucking tree right? Hahahahahahahaha.

Fuck.

Kai glanced at them in the rearview mirror. They were still unconscious, but it didn’t look like they had gotten any worse. Not to Kai at least. But then again what the fuck did he know? It was perfectly fucking possible that they were dying back there and he just couldn’t tell.

“Oh fucking...DAMN IT.”

He pressed harder on the gas, he could afford to go a bit faster. It was only a few more miles to the hospital anyways. The silence in the car was starting to feel suffocating, and Kai turned on the radio just to have some noise fill the air. The rest of the drive was uneventful, and Kai found himself pulling into the hospital parking lot sooner than he expected. Well, at least something was going well.

He unbuckled the still unconscious 07 and scooped them into his arms. The parking lot was almost empty, which meant the ER wouldn’t be too busy. Another lucky break. He entered the reception area, it was empty aside from the receptionist and one other person waiting. He walked up to the desk, clearing his throat to get the receptionists attention.

“Excuse me, I need help.”

The receptionist looked up from the file she was reading, startling slightly at the sight of 07 in Kai’s arms. “Oh, um, yes, how can I help.”

“They fell unconscious in my house. They have a fever. I think they’re sick.” 

Brilliant observation genius.

The receptionist nodded. “Ok, one moment”. She made a call on the intercom and two nurses showed up with a stretcher. Kai gently put 07 onto it and they were taken away. He wanted to follow but was told to wait for a doctor to get him. He didn’t argue, best leave this to the professionals.

“Excuse me sir, if you wouldn;t mind there is some information I need to get down.”

Kai turned. “Oh, yes of course.” He sat at the chair in front of the reception desk. 

The talk with the receptionist was a welcome distraction. It was all basic stuff, names, insurance, nothing that Kai couldn’t provide off the top of his head. He did get a strange look when he mentioned 07’s name, but the explanation of them being a slave seemed to clear that up. 

Now all he could do was wait. He sat in the reception area, mindlessly looking through his emails and social media. The almost incomprehensible stream of advertisements, news, and shitty memes proved an effective distraction until he was approached by a doctor.

“Excuse me, Mr. Kai is it?”

Kai looked up, pocketing his phone and standing. “Yes, that's me.” 

“Hello. My name is Doctor Graves. I have good news, your slave, 07 right?” Kai nodded. “Well all that's wrong is a case of the flu. It seems they passed out from exhaustion. They’re still unconscious but they’re stable. We have them on some medication and they should hopefully wake up soon.”

Kai let out a breath of relief. It was just the flou, they were fine. “Thanks doc. That's good to hear”.

The doctor nodded. “You know, generally speaking it's better to let slaves rest when they are sick instead of working them too hard. Even the common cold can be dangerous if left untreated.”

Kai raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms and frowning. “Hey! I didn’t do this to them”.

“I’m sure you didn't but…”

“Listen, I didn’t know they were sick. I’ve been busy and wasn’t paying too much attention. If I had known I would have told them to take it easy.”

The doctor didn’t seem convinced. “Be that as it may, I would recommend you pay more attention to them in the future. Negligence is the number one cause of death in slaves.”

Kai sighed, dropping his arms and slumping slightly. “Yeah doc, thanks for the advice. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

The doctor nodded again. “I’ll have someone let you know when they wake up.” 

Kai sat back down, placing his head in his hands. The doctor was right, he had really fucked up. How could he have just...not fucking notice? 07 had been suffering for what, three days? Forcing themselves to work while they were sick and he apparently didn’t care enough to even fucking notice.

God damn it. He knew he wasn’t cut out for this shit, he knew it. 07 would be better off with anyone else, someone fucking competent. Not his dumb ass. He let out another sigh, sliding his hands down his face and letting them rest in his lap. 

Well, regardless of his lack of ability 07 would be with him for at least four more months. He was sure after all this shit they’d be counting down the days they could leave for someone even slightly qualified to care for another human being. He didn’t blame them. He wouldn't want to be stuck with him either.

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07 woke slowly, consciousness having to fight through a thick haze to reach them. The first thing they noticed was a strange beeping noise, followed by the stark whiteness of the walls. This...this wasn’t their room. Where were they, where was Master? What was going on?

Piece by piece their mind began to remember what had happened. They had finished the dishes and decided to...vacuum around the house. It took longer than they expected, the noise from the vacuum made their head pound and they had to take a few breaks to gather themselves. Then Master had come in from outside and then...then.

  Panic hit them like a bullet, they had passed out in front of Master. Was he angry at them? Is that why they were alone in some strange room? What...what was going to happen to them. Their breathing grew rapid and shallow. The strange beeping noise began to grow faster and more erratic. What was that? Was it bad?

They heard voices and saw people that they didn’t recognize entered the room. 07 tried to shrink away, they didn’t want to be with these people. They...they wanted Master. The strangers got closer, crowding around them. They wanted to get away, but they couldn’t. They were trapped. They were…

They were on a bed. 

A bed with walls that trapped them in and people were hovering over them, grabbing at their arms and chest. Panic gave way to desperation, and they began to struggle. They tried to flail, to get their arms away from the strangers’ grip. Despite their best efforts they couldn’t get away. 

“N-no…” they began to beg. “Please...no. Please...don’t.” 

The strangers wouldn’t let them go. They heard voices, words coming from their mouths but they couldn’t tell what they were. The fog of fear muddled everything around them. 

“Please...please. Let me go. Please”. 

They screwed their eyes shut, not wanting to see what the strangers might do. A sickening sense of familiarity hit them. It was going to happen again. It was going to happen again and they didn’t want it to happen again. They didn’t want to...to…

Their arms were let go and they felt a hand rest gently on their shoulder. They tensed, waiting for the grip to turn harsh or for it to start tearing at their shirt. Instead nothing happened. 07 opened their eyes slowly and turned to see...Master Kai?

Master Kai!

He gave a small smile. “Hey there 07, how are you holding up?”

They didn’t know what to say. Their mind was still hazy and the sudden shift from panic to relief had given them whiplash. But still, their master was talking to them and they needed to say something.

“I...I...good?”

They berated themselves internally. What a clumsy and stupid response. But Master Kai didn’t seem to mind. He never seemed to mind when they were stupid.

“That's good, that's good.” He let out a small chuckle. “You gave me quite a scare you know?” 

“Excuse me Mr. Kai? I would like to speak to you about a few things before we discharge your slave.”

“Oh. Alright.”

The two men began to talk and 07 laid back, closing their eyes and drowning out what was being said. It was not the place of a slave to eavesdrop or insert themselves into their master’s business. Now that the panic had worn off they found themselves feeling rather tired. They still didn’t feel great, and getting to rest a bit longer would be nice. But they had to wait, they...needed Master’s permission first. 

“Mmm...may...mmmm…”

Their attempt at a question limply railed off into soft mumbling. Before they could try again they felt Master squeeze their shoulder.

“Just rest 07. I’ll wake you up when we need to head home.”

07 was asleep before he finished his sentence.

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Kai pulled into the driveway with a relieved sigh. It was nice to be back home, Kai had never liked hospitals. He shut off his car and stepped out, walking to the backseat and pulling the still asleep 07 into his arms. He didn’t have the heart to wake them up when they had been discharged. 

He entered his house and walked into the living room, only to be met by the lord wiring of the vacuum cleaner. Damn, that thing had been running for...shit 7 hours? Well there goes the electricity bill. The loud noise also had the unwelcome side effect of waking 07. They stirred in his arms, blinking blearily and looking around the room.

“Aw, piss.” Kai walked over to the vacuum, shifting 07 around slightly so he could turn the damn thing off. “Shut it will ya?”

“M...Master Kai?” Their voice was rough. 

“Oh, hey 07.” Kai looked down to see 07 looking at him, seemingly still disoriented. “We’re back home, hold on, I'll get you to b-your room.”

07 simply nodded, closing their eyes again and starting to nod off. God they really were tired weren’t they. That or whatever the hospital had given them was hitting them hard. Either way they’d probably be out for another day. Maybe longer. Oh well, they had earned the rest.

Kai set 07 down in their closet...room...thing. This whole situation was still weird to him. He wanted to talk to them about maybe moving to an air mattress or futon at some point but that would have to come later. One thing at a time and all that.

He tucked 07 beneath the blankets, making sure they were wrapped up tightly. The blankets were thick, but it was still a cold night and that damn draft was still going on. Fuck! He needed to get that fixed. Ugh, tomorrow he was tracking down whatever hole in the wall was causing that draft and patching it with extreme prejudice. 

He shook his head slightly and left the room, walking to a storage closet and pulling out an old space heater. He put the heater down in 07’s room, plugging it in and turning it to a warm but not sweltering temperature. There, now 07 should be comfortable. 

Kai stood in the room and watched 07 for a few minutes, watching for anything that might be cause for concern. Aside from a few sniffles 07 stayed sound asleep and Kai decided he was just being paranoid now. It wasn’t anything serious, just a case of the flu. Bed rest and fluids, nothing more complicated. The doctor recommended they be given at least two days to recover, and he intended to make sure they took that time to rest.

Guilt hit him again. He shouldn’t have ever let it get this bad. He needed to be more attentive, be more aware. He needed to be better. For their sake. He wasn’t going to fail someone else again. 

At least, no more than he already had.

Tags: @haro-whumps @cupcakes-and-pain

[retro-aesthe]

Sidelines (Part 2)

(I’ve actually posted this... idk, it disappeared so I’m gonna post it again. Happy reading!!!)

Alex Danvers x fem!reader

You were watching a documentary about war remnants left by World War II in different “third world countries.” Just like a one-shot angst fic about your OTP you’ve read a thousand times, this documentary sucks you in—deep, and makes you want to continue relieving your college idealist self you’ve left behind some time ago. Back in NCU, you wanted to change the world and save the oppressed… but when you graduated, you were caught off-guard by the cruel face of reality. Suddenly, those plans of changing the world faded. You were stuck as some newspaper writer—broke, by the way—with a record of libel case under your name.

As you watched, with glimmering eyes, the old, ragged, black and white pictures being flashed in your TV, the door burst open. You jumped in surprise, higher than you’ll ever admit, and some popcorn spilled on the floor from the overflowing bowl. You turned around to check who just barged in and saw Alex Danvers with a pissed off look in her face.

You immediately placed the bowl of popcorn on the table and stood up, frown already marring your face. You swallowed the popcorn you just placed on your mouth, and then asked lightly, “What’s up?”

You felt relieved that your heart was calming down already.

“Why the fuck is your door not locked?” your best friend asked, and you can already see the angry lines getting more obvious on her face. The waves of anger raging from your best friend’s… presence were directed to you. You felt so lost because all you can think about was how she just went here to… scold you? Wasn’t she on a date?

“Um… because I’m inside?” you said slowly… confusion rising by the level as you stared at Alex’s pissed off form. The agent moved to close the door and proceeded on taking off her coat.

“I’ve told you a hundred times that you should lock the door. What if I’m some murderer? I could be murdering you right now—“

“Well, you’re not a murderer and you’re not murdering me right now. You’re my best friend and you can come in my apartment anytime. My locked door would have made me stand up—which I just did, thanks to you barging in here like some overly crazed person—and pause this incredibly heart-wrenching and mind-blowing documentary, just so I could open the door for you, your highness,” you rambled sarcastically, as you automatically went for your refrigerator and pulled out some beer.

Alex was already getting comfortable in your couch—where you were sitting a while ago—which was filled with thick blankets that made you feel like you’re in heaven.

“So… you came here just to bitch about my unlocked door…? Or, am I going to pry how your night went with a certain detective?” you asked, as you placed the opened beer bottles on the center table. You faced your best friend, having the chance to take her in. You can just imagine how your eyes turned into heart ones. Alex was breathtaking. You can’t help but envy Maggie Sawyer right now. The detective was living what you only had for a dream… at least you hope that she does know that.

“There was an emergency called by NCPD, so she had to leave early.” You watched as she drank the beer, clenching your jaw at the audacity of Maggie Sawyer to leave Lexie, on a date, alone… you would never do that even if it was your brought-back-to-life-by-Hades-because-the-god-despises-him-too editor calling. Well, you do know it is irrational to hold it over Maggie’s head (as the call was probably for the public’s safety) but, still. She left Alex alone.

“Explains why you had time to go here,” you said lightly. There was no bitterness in your tone, though your words came out flatly than you intended it to. You’ve felt neglected by your best friend these past few weeks she had been dating Maggie. Before, you’ve always had nights with Alex (because it’s the only time of the day the both of you possibly aren’t at work) at least four times a week. Now, it was reduced to sporadic once-a-week’s. You just kept your mouth shut, because you don’t know where you stand. There’s the feeling of needing to insert yourself because you’re the best friend, but there’s also the feeling of pulling back because you’re not the journalist sister, you’re just the journalist best friend.

It also doesn’t help that you’re the in-love best friend.

God, you hate yourself so much.

“Y/n…? Y/n, you still with me?” You refocused your unfocused eyes, and found Alex’s concerned ones staring right at you. You felt your eyes turn glassy, so you blinked the (possibly) tears away, and cleared your throat. You grabbed your bottle of beer and took large gulps. One thing that probably heavily grounds your friendship with Alex Danvers is alcohol. During game nights, you and Alex both dominate the available alcoholic drinks and still end up coherent enough to go home, or form syntactically—emphasis on just “syntactically”—correct sentences.

You slammed the beer harder than intended on your glass center table.

“Yeah, I am.” God, you need more.

You stood up, aware of Lexie’s eyes following your movements. You reached for the emergency bottle of (pure, as you specifically bought) tequila you had stored on your cupboard. ‘You’re loose lips, Y/n,’ you thought as you grabbed shot glasses. The glasses were just for show, since you had this great need to be loose lips and drink the entire bottle down to the last drop (which would more likely end up with you being pumped), and just tell Alex Danvers everything because Maggie Sawyer doesn’t deserve her because she left gorgeous Alex Danvers alone in their date night for some “NCPD emergency.”

“Sorry, I have like, a lot of things in my mind.” Case in point: the woman you’re talking to. “You know, article stuff,” you added, admittedly rather defensive. You filled the two shot glasses with tequila, not even bothering to ask Lexie if she wants one because you know she does because that’s how well you know her.

You pressed play on the documentary you were watching. The heavy silence masked the narrator’s voice, and you were extremely aware of Lexie’s restlessness, which you know means that she badly wants to say something. You have ignored your half consumed beer (and the now cold and indigestible popcorn), and turned on pouring yourself shot after shot of tequila. You should have followed yourself a while ago—go to bar after work.

“Are… are you okay, Y/n?” Alex finally asked. You tensed for a moment. Alex knows how much you resented that question… maybe that’s why she was so hesitant of asking you. You’ve always rambled on how it was futile to ask the question, especially if the one who asked only expects a yes or no answer. It’s much more than a simple yes or no to define if one’s okay or not.

You pressed pause once more and turned to her and smiled, finally feeling the effects of the (pure!) tequila you were drinking. Your lips were feeling numb (so you’re really half sure you’re smiling), and your tensed mind (as you so likely often describe it) was loosening up. You stared at Alex with half-lidded eyes. You have no idea why you suddenly felt drunk-hazy, as if you’ve drunk more than your limits. You looked at the tequila bottle and saw how it’s nearing empty. You frowned. Did it spill?

“I’ve only had a couple of shots… then you grabbed the bottle and basically fired shots… no difference if you’ve just drank from the bottle.” Lexie said, slightly amused. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?” You detected the shift in her tone, which was bordering concern.

Loose lips. Overly emotional. Not a good combination, especially when the pain caused by Maggie’s appearance in your life—more like in Lexie’s—is really doing a number on you. You stared at Lexie’s concerned eyes. You took a deep breath, wondering what to do or say next. With just pure instincts, your right hand moved to grab the bottle—you need to loosen up more.

“Hey, no. You’ve had enough.” Alex pried the bottle from your hands. She placed it on the floor, just slightly behind her then turned back to you. You nearly jumped off your skin when her soft hand grabbed yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You’re watching documentaries, Y/n. You only watch them whenever something’s stressing you out. You drank that bottle of pure tequila as if it’s just water. You wanna tell me what’s going on?” You can’t help but let yourself give in on the appearing symptoms of crying. You’re already feeling hot, and Lexie’s smile just keeps flashing before your eyes… Lexie’s incredibly beautiful and perfect smile directed at Maggie Sawyer. You pursed your lips. Suddenly, there’s a growing anger forming inside you. You keep thinking why you hadn’t been good enough for Alex—for her to notice you. Why did it have to be Maggie? Why her? What freaking generous thing did she do for her to have the one person you’ve been praying for almost your whole life?

You suddenly felt a soft hand on your cheek. It was so comfortable, making your heart turn over and over again. When the thumb ran just below your eyes, you suddenly realized you were crying. You’re crying and Alex freaking Danvers, your best friend, was holding your hand and wiping your tears. Her eyes were full of concern and her face was so incredibly close. All you can think of is how beautiful she is and how she deserves the whole world. The forming anger was suddenly replaced by an onslaught of your love for this woman holding you.

You don’t know if it’s because of being soul-turning drunk that you suddenly can’t handle Lexie being an inch close to you. You’ve been at situations like this most of your life, but something changed right now. You can’t control yourself anymore when before, being with your best friend (since you realized you’re hopelessly in love with her) was all about control.

It was so comfortable, being this close. You taught of staying like this forever. As you stared at Lexie’s beautiful, concerned (for you) eyes, you can’t help but cry more over your missed chance of being with her. Your eyes shifted down and you can’t help but wonder how those lips were naturally pink and soft, while yours were pale and more often than not, slightly chapped. Then, with your screw-it mind taking over, you shook off Lexie’s hold on your hand. You placed both of your hands softly on her nape, and pulled her closer.

You can’t help but think that this is, indeed, the softest pair of lips you’ve ever had the chance of kissing. And you so badly want to kiss these pair of lips forever.

[illyriantremors]

Take Me Down: A Cazigan Smut Fic

This is pure sin and nothing more. And as with the last time I did Cazigan smut, I have no clue if it works and am super nervous about it, but well, here we are. I tried and I’m just honestly happy at this point that I wrote something new and squeezed another Cazigan fic in before ACOWAR. It was stress-relieving to write. Tagging @buggitybooks who asked to be tagged. :)

AO3 Linkage

Summary: Mor’s in the middle of dinner when a questionable breeze hits her legs in an all too familiar pattern. When she realizes both her lovers are messing with her, Mor decides to take things to the bedroom for a little revenge that quickly gets carried away from her. NSFW

Take Me Down

The House of Wind is chilly, Mor thinks, about two-thirds of the way through dinner with her friends.

She supposes it’s only natural. The dining room opens onto a spacious balcony high in the sky where the winds are free to come and go as they please through the large floor to ceiling threshold, constructed thus so that one might fly right in. One with Illyrian wings, that is.

Listening to Rhys fill them in on his latest diplomatic visit to the Day Court, Mor feels that breeze hitting her ankles, and crosses them with a brief brush of her heels to help shake the chill. She takes a sip of wine and leans forward on the palm of her hand, trying not to blink at how dull the trip sounds. Only Amren sitting across from Rhys looks truly interested.

On Mor’s left, Cassian has a clean plate in front of him, the second to finish up after Mor. Azriel is still politely finishing his salad across from the pair of them. Both of the Illyrian men still have their flying leathers on. They’d been gone all day and left Mor hopelessly bored and all alone to idly dream the time away.

She’d spent most of it reading. But what she’d really wanted to do concerned feather light kisses along her calves and cool, teasing licks up her thighs that invoked - invoked a feeling not unlike what the wind is doing at her ankles.

Mor shifts again, scoffing at the ridiculousness of herself and reversing the cross of her feet, but the breeze dances right around them. Her wine glass is halfway to her lips again when she catches the view of the balcony doors and realizes -

They’re shut. Firmly.

The wine glass only just makes it to her mouth when she feels the air below, suddenly richly warm and thick, slow its pace and creep a few inches above her ankles. It hovers mid-calf and distinctly licks.

Every muscle in Mor’s body goes deathly still honing in on the sensation of the wind - no, air? - gliding back and forth, back and forth across her skin. It feels luxurious and intimate, and full of magic. That much, she’s certain. And there’s only one source she can think of for that particular brand of magic.

The warm current continues licking, almost daring Mor to look. Carefully, she takes another sip of wine just to still her breath and flits her gaze over the rim of her glass.

Azriel is all too concerned with Rhys, the dutiful spymaster as always taking notes and prepping for the day he’ll need to remember why the High Lord of the Day likes his tea with milk, no sugar, for the Mother only knows what reason. He averts his attention from Rhys only to take careful stabs of his next bite of salad.

Mor grips the stem of her glass a little too firmly as she sets it down, causing Az’s eyes to briefly meet her own at the dull sound. He gives her a blank face for two seconds before reaching toward his own glass. All she sees before he takes a sip is a subtle, almost nonexistent, twitch of his brow and the corners of his lips tugging to one side before the glass has his dirty little mouth covered.

That’s when the air - no, she realizes finally. That’s when Azriel’s shadow dares to climb a little higher on her leg. It reaches her knee, swirls around in a loop, and presses lazy kisses behind the crook of her leg. And suddenly, Mor’s blood begins to race.

She can’t tell if she’s more infuriated with the fact that Azriel is being so wicked at dinner, with their family present. Or if she desperately wants to yank him by his leathers across the table and tell him to send his shadows higher, place them exactly where she wants them. As a second shadow mirrors the first on her opposite leg, Mor is rather inclined to think it’s the latter.

Thank goodness she’d worn the silk dress tonight. It’s light and short and keeping her cool in a body that’s rapidly feeling more and more heat as the twin shadows take up a steady rhythm of teasing strokes just inside her thighs. A little pulse of heat runs up from that touch in her skin meeting her core, asking Az for more, and damn, if it doesn’t make her nervous as hell.

Cauldron help her, they haven’t hit dessert yet, Rhys is still talking, and her wine is almost out. But those shadows keep licking - and rising. He doesn’t actually intend to keep her here like this for another... twenty minutes? An hour? Rhys and Amren can talk for millennia if left to their own devices, but as the shadows run along the smooth lace lining of her panties asking permission, Mor decides she needs release now.

So too, does Cassian, apparently. Right when Azriel sends one shadow in a quick lick against her clit over the thin fabric of her panties, the other shadow holding her left thigh down firmly on the seat, Mor feels a pair of calloused fingertips dancing on her neck, and has to refrain from jumping out of her seat at the sudden weight of Cassian’s arm draped right behind her on the chair.

Lips tight, eyes wide, Mor feels those fingers trace indulgent circles over her skin, just like the shadows, and move ever nearer to her ear. And Cauldron damn her, she wore her hair to one side tonight in a long cascade of waves that perfectly hides her boyfriend’s fingers as they lightly caress her earlobe and then pull away.

Gripping her chair for balance, Mor slowly, slowly, moves her head to the left, praying to the Mother Rhys and Amren aren’t seeing this, and looks at Cassian. His face is just as smooth as Azriel’s, but when he catches Mor looking, there’s a shit-eating look in his eyes that twinkles. He gives her a hasty wink - the kind only Cassian can get away with.

The pricks are tag-teaming me, she realizes, not entirely sure how she feels about this except to know that she could love and kill them both for it.

And then she silently curses herself because Cassian has finally pressed behind her ear and the most glorious sensation is radiating out from that point matching the heat that’s become a fire in her crotch. She can’t help her lips parting or the fact that her head has tipped to the left stretching out all that smooth skin of hers for Cassian to better ruin with his hands.

When the smug little shadow dancer at her crotch darts through the fabric and presses directly over her clit, Morrigan is done.

How do these males do this to her every single time? How do they always find new ways to tease her, bring her gasping before them? Was this what they’d been out all day doing - planning this?

Mor jumps up in one forward movement, unable to stomach the thought that she can be this turned on and seated this close to her damned cousin, all while her lovers are smirking like thieves next to and across from her.

She’ll simply step out to the toilets for a few minutes. Yes, that’s it. Mor knows her body well. She won’t need long to relieve the unbearable ache she now carries. Azriel and Cassian can go to bed on their own tonight and take it out on each other for all she cares, see how they like it.

Only... Mor can’t get up. Just when she presses up, she jerks violently back, not expecting her feet to remain rooted faithfully to the spot in the five inch white stilettos she chose. It’s a jolting enough movement that it jars the table, and Cassian’s water glass spills off to one side. But all Mor sees is Azriel trying desperately to hide his snort as Rhys and Amren look directly at Mor, and then the spilled water.

He’s tied my legs to the chair with his damn shadows. Filthy scheming -

“Are you alright?” Rhys asks.

Mor blinks at him, swallowing tightly. “Wha - fine,” Mor says, pleased her voice comes out as evenly as it does. Probably only because she’s so astounded that it’s enough to mask the heat dragging her through the mud. “I only wanted the wine bottle.”

“Aww, Mor,” Cassian says, wiping up the mess of water that almost made it to his lap. Mor wishes it had. “If you’d wanted a reprieve,” and he tops up her glass, “all you needed to do was ask.”

Mor’s blood roars in her ears at that because Cassian damn well knows she can’t ask him and Azriel to fuck her outright in front of Rhys and Amren, and she can’t very well go to the bathroom with her legs tied to the blasted chair either. She’s just... stuck. Utterly, utterly stuck as these two men, she reminds herself she loves very much, play games with her while Rhys shrugs and continues his latest.

And the brief distraction of fallen stemware seems to fall short of getting her mind off of the heat crawling all over her body now because during the entire affair, Azriel kept that shadow on her clit, running smooth circles around the nerves with increasing pressure.

But it’s Cassian, who’s hands didn’t actually bother to clean up much of the mess, that are back at her neck and ear dripping wet from the coolness of the water that sends shivers all up and down Mor’s spine. A beadlet escapes and rolls down her open back, disappearing below the fabric of her dress at her waist. Mor’s not sure where the trails stops being water from Cassian’s calloused fingers - fingers she badly wants teasing her nipples instead - and becomes the layer of sweat coating her skin.

Her back arches off the the chair, her shoulders shaking somewhat to try and keep the motion from being too obvious. And even though Rhys is still talking, Amren has started occasionally glancing over at Mor who gives a shakey smile and just sips more and more wine. Cassian’s smirk watching her take each sip seems to say greedy, greedy, greedy.

Mor thinks it’s really her hips that are greedy. Her hips that are now leaning and digging into Azriel. He’s only got one beat on her crotch, but that’s all he needs. That shadow can stretch and fill and thicken while still holding her at the apex of her thighs - and Cauldron, does it ever.

It’s all Mor can do to hide the bite of her lip and the flush of her cheeks beneath her hair, jerking her head to one side as Azriel sends the length of that shadow between her folds to fill her. The most divine pleasure, unlike anything he’s ever made her feel in bed - it’s so different and new to all the games the three of them play - washes over her. Face somewhat hidden, Mor releases the bite on her lips so they can part, a blissful smile appearing at each thrust Azriel gives her. Under the table, Mor digs a hand into her dress fisting the fabric to keep her from giving too much away.

And she embarrassed. So ridiculously embarrassed. Public displays of affection are not a problem for her, not that she engages in them all too much, but this - this... exhibitionism is new, equal parts exciting and shocking and terrifying that she’ll be discovered.

And Cass’s hand only makes it worse, sliding between her back and the chair and - curse her, why did she wear an open-backed dress tonight?? His hand slides right in, two knuckles grazing the side of her breast teasing and it’s all too much, too much, too much. Azriel pushes into her hard and she gives a gasp.

Rhys jerks, nostrils flaring. “What is-”

“Dessert?” Cassian asks, cutting across Rhys. Mor could faint at the relief of having his hand immediately removed from her breast, Azriel’s pumping disappearing altogether from between her legs and over her ankles.

When Mor feels composed enough to handle herself, she turns back to her right and finds Rhys looking between the three of them very oddly.

He can smell it, Mor thinks, though she wills a smile. The bastards did me in and he knows. He damned well knows.

“Dessert would be lovely,” Mor says, leaning heavily on the falsetto in her voice to create her usual chipperness. “Why don’t you and Amren go fetch it?”

“Fetch is for dogs,” Amren says. “I would think Cassian would be more suited to that particular task.”

“If it’s all the same to you, Amren,” and Rhys stands, “I think I could use a walk.”

“Lovely.” They pop off together in the direction of the kitchen and Mor prays they’ll be there a while because she’s pissed as hell now.

“Why the fuck did you two start that?” Mor demands. “And why the fuck did you two stop?!” The words tumble out of her in a whispered hiss before becoming a quiet whine. “I was this close to-”

“Dessert?” Cassian offers. Mor glares at him.

Neither one of her lovers are sitting close to her now, but there’s still a fire in her core begging for relief.

Cassian bites out a laugh. “Don’t tell me you actually wanted to come just then.” Mor turns crimson and it only makes Cassian laugh harder. “Shit, Mor,” he says, leaning forward so that their faces are inches apart. Azriel looks like he wants to devour both of them alive with the way he’s watching across the table. “I told you, all you had to do was ask-”

Mor pushes away from the table right as Cassian’s tongue reaches out and licks at the corner of her chin where it meets her neck. “That’s it,” Mor says, and she slams her napkin down on the chair. “Bedroom - now.”

“What about dessert?” Cassian’s hands are splayed, mock affront.

Neither of the males have moved since Mor has stood. Now she towers over them at this position, enjoying the way they look up at her waiting for an answer. It’s time she holds all the cards and she knows from the look Rhys gave her right before they left that he and Amren are not coming back to this table. Mother only knows what he suspects is going on between the three of them.

“Oh I’m getting dessert,” Mor says. Azriel’s eyes darken, pupils widening as she says it. The fire kindles all over again because she wants that look. Has wanted it and Cassian both for centuries and has found having them both night after night is somehow never enough.

“You are, are you?” Cassian says, his own lust-filled eyes devouring her in that dress he’d played with hungrily.

“Yes,” Mor says, stepping toward the hall that leads to the room they like to share most nights - her room. “And you two boys are going to watch.”

Mor’s never heard feet move so fast as Cassian’s and Azriel’s do chasing after her down the hall. Once they’re inside her room, Cassian smacking the door closed with a little too much gusto, the quick movements cease. And Mor is enjoying the way these two males are staring hungrily after her as she backs away towards the lounge chair.

Cassian takes a brisk step toward her, but Mor holds out a hand to stop him and find the hard expanse of his chest, hidden beneath the leather. She wants to rip them right off, but she holds herself in check.

“I thought you wanted a tease,” Mor whispers close to his face. “Allow me the pleasure.” She licks along his chin towards his ear in precisely the same way he’d done at dinner and is rewarded with a deep groan rumbling out of his chin.

“Mor,” Cass says, daring another step, but she pushes that hand on his chest to separate them. The backs of her calves hit the lounge where she stops.

And promptly slips out of the little silk dress she’d been wearing. It falls in a puddle at her feet. Her panties quickly follow. She hadn’t even bothered with a bra.

Wicked delight flares across Mor’s senses watching the near-feral looks on her lovers’ faces as she reclines on the lounge, spreads her legs wide enough that they see everything, and reaches a hand down her stomach where it just stops above the dark hairs resting at her crotch.

Cassian snarls, as if he can command that hand to go lower or change Mor’s mind and let him get to her first. A ghost of a shadow appears at her feet looking to restrain and Mor snaps her hand away from herself immediately, pointing at Azriel. “Don’t even think about it,” she says and is pleased when Azriel not only backs off a step, the shadow disappearing, but fists his hands at his sides. “That’s better,” Mor croons, replacing her touch to its proper place where it can tease and play if the boys behave for her.

“Morrigan,” Az bites out, and the way he grounds out her name has her blood instantly singing again. She merely scratches a lone finger through the hairs barely moving lower.

“You two are the ones who wanted to play games,” Mor says cooly, a cat’s smile teasing on her face. “So let’s play games.” She inclines her head toward the bed that directly faces her, making her intentions perfectly clear. “Go on. Give it your best shot. Tease me.”

The lovers look at each other, then to the bed, then finally to Mor. And she knows its killing them that her hand hasn’t gone any lower or that she hasn’t allowed them to come any closer. Mor wonders if they truly meant to get her off at that table with everyone watching.

It takes two heartbeats for Cassian and Azriel to move toward the bed - anything to get Mor’s hand working herself while they watch. And as soon as they do, Mor gasps a little at the sudden abrupt shove Azriel gives, sending Cassian back against the bed post. Fire licks up Mor’s core watching him strip Cass of his belt, his pants, until there’s only his underwear and a very sizeable bulge beneath left.

“Shit - Az,” Cass chokes out, not used to such demanding gestures from his boyfriend in bed as Az wastes zero time in freeing his cock. For a moment, Mor stares and stares at how hard and long it is, imagining how thick it would feel buried inside her - the way Azriel’s shadows had, but real and warm and better. If it weren’t for the fact that she wants these boys to start touching each other, she’d damn everything to shove Cass back on that bed and ride him hard until he came screaming her name.

But she resists instead, and watches as Azriel presses a hot kiss to Cassian’s mouth and helps him remove the top half of his leathers. Mor decides this was a very, very good decision indeed.

Az kisses a trail down Cass’s neck, his chest, and finally his stomach until he’s on his knees in front of him, only one option left. At his back, Cass’s wings give a twitch against the bed post.

Mor almost doesn’t realize Azriel has stopped kissing him until he clears his throat, drawing her attention. Az is staring hard - daring her. He curtly nods to that hand at her crotch that’s been waiting, command in those rich hazel eyes and Mor silently swears. A deal’s a deal.

So Mor dares that hand lower between her legs and finds her clit already throbbing for her. She begins to circle it slowly, never taking her eyes off Az. “Good, Morrigan,” he says, his voice all midnight velvet. “Good.”

When did he gain the upper hand in this?! Mor thinks as her center starts to rock with the motion of her hand. But her boyfriend has, somehow, already overtaken her lead. It’s just a game now to see who lasts the longest.

Azriel turns back to face Cassian and slides his hand up, up, up posessively until it’s gripping his chin and turning it gruffly toward Mor on the settee. Not that Cassian had stopped looking, Mor noticed. Now that she’s touching herself, Cassian can’t seem to tear his gaze away for one second. She likes that gaze on her. Like to watch him watch her work herself.

“You don’t stop looking at her,” Azriel says. “Not for one second. You don’t take your eyes off her hand or her cunt until you’ve come in my mouth and she’s screaming for you on the lounge.” He doesn’t even ask if Cass understands, just puts his mouth to work.

Mor faintly hears Cassian swear, but is quickly distracted by the rough jerk Cass gives against the bed, his hands gripping what he can reach of the sheets just behind him as Azriel moves his tongue - his lips - over Cass’s head. Still dressed head-to-toe in his flying leathers, wings tucked in tight at his back, Azriel looks something like a demon from hell next to their naked selves, come to set them both on fire. And the way he’s sucking at Cassian, taking him in deep and running a hand over his ass - by the Cauldron, what did she get herself into. She’s going to die and she knows it. She should have just taken them both on the bed and relieved herself, but too late now. The sight of her boys together is ruining her.

Her hand moves faster over her clit and already she can feel her pleasure swelling. Cassian is staring hard at her, a glazed look in his eyes as he pants stronger with each bob of Azriel’s head. So Mor rewards him moving her free hand up her chest to cup her breasts. She flicks a nipple, turning it bright red, and nearly loses rhythm on herself when Cass’s strikes the paneling of the bed frame with a hard whack!

“Mor-”

“Touch him,” she breathes. Cass almost loses the eye contact he’s been barred from quitting. “Touch him, Cassian. Grab him, just...” she shudders, unable to quite finish the words. She so close. Already so, so close and she wants to come. Wants to come while her lovers fuck each other and she watches. Then she wants to do it all over again until all three of them are spent. “Just - just move him, Cass,” she manages to pant out and watches Cassian take a fistful of Azriel’s hair, guiding him along.

A stray shadow reappears, diving out of sight behind Cassian where Azriel’s fingers had been at his ass, forcing a moan out of both Cass and Mor. When Cass can’t take it any longer and his head falls back to hit the bed post, eyes fluttering shut, Mor breaks, her clit sending waves of climax out over every inch of her body relieving that magnificent ache. “C-Cass,” she moans, head thrown back, knees shaking.

But she never stops looking. Not once. They’d promised. And she feels almost ready enough to come again when Cass re-opens his eyes at the sound of his name falling off Mor’s tongue and comes into Azriel’s mouth from the sight of her high alone.

“Did you look at her?” Azriel asks, and suddenly both their attentions go down to the male on his knees. Cassian nods. “What did she look like?” His voice is thick, guttural, enough to make Mor bite her lip and Cassian balk. “What did she look like,” Az says again, standing and licking the remaining cum off his lips he hadn’t swallowed, “as she came for you, Cassian?”

Mor sees Cass’s eyes glaze again, finding her on the lounge. She bites her lip, pushes her fingers down into her folds - shit, she’s wet - and holds, a new promise. Cassian swallows. “Perfect. She looked perfect,” he says.

Azriel’s fingers trace over Cassian’s jaw. His shadows dance freely down Cassian’s body, teasing him as he had teased Mor at dinner. “Do you want her to do it again?”

“Yes,” Cassian says instantly. Mor grins and dips a finger inside herself, biting back a moan as she feels her body reset, ready for more. “But you’re gonna fuck me first,” Cassian says, grabbing Azriel’s shoulders and fighting for dominance amid what quickly becomes a clash of teeth and tongues on the bed.

Cauldron - these men are really going to kill her, Mor thinks, slipping a second finger inside herself, curling them at the tips as she pumps herself and wishes it were Cassian’s tongue instead. Or Azriel’s. She’s so hot at this point, she wants them both, sick of this chair and her own pitiful fingers when she longs to be filled with something more.

As if in reply, darkness wraps around Mor’s hand locking it in place and making her gasp. She looks up and finds Azriel directing Cassian to his back, legs spreading out around him. Az removes his leathers, exposing that beautifully tanned chest he’s spent centuries honing to perfection, the tattoos running over his pecs and shoulders. And his thighs - his thighs are powerful creations holding him up high over Cassian who Mor thinks is trying hard not to reach up and return Azriel’s earlier favor in earnest.

Az grabs a bottle from the night stand and positions himself between Cassian’s legs. He opens the bottle and starts to touch himself, prepping. “You be good, Morrigan,” he says, that name again sending chills all over her body. “Be good for me Mor, and I’ll be good for you. We both will.” He nods at her hand bound in shadow that can’t seem to move of its own free will anymore, but the moment Mor moves to look at herself, Az cuts her off. “Eyes up top, love. I want to see you come when I fuck you both.”

Mor whimpers, and then Azriel is fucking Cassian on the bed, eliciting sounds from Cassian she’s never heard from her boyfriend before in her life. And all the while, Azriel is watching her. And it makes her feel alive. It makes her feel special. Having the attention of both these men even while they touch each other - it makes her feel like a queen.

Mor knows Azriel senses the shift in her. Good, he mouths silently to her from the bed, thrusting in on Cassian and gripping his waist. Cass is lost to the bed sheets. And suddenly, Mor feels her hand free from the wetness between her legs, replaced by that shadow that had entered her at dinner.

“Azriel - fuck, Azriel, please,” she says, not caring that she’s already begging. She just manages to keep her eyes on him, exactly what she knows he wants, and nearly cries out again as the shadow starts to pump in and out of her hard and fast. It’s not long before it’s matching the pace of Azriel’s hips on the bed.

And it feels like bliss. The way it was always meant to be - just the three of them and no body else in the entire world. Only them. Only this bedroom. Only their unified breaths and moanings ringing about the walls betraying how glorious they feel together.

By the time Mor’s fingers have found the nearest pillow to clutch as her body starts to shake, she’s close to losing it completely, but Azriel keeps his shadows back. Every time she gets just close enough to going over, he pulls back on her, but fucks Cassian a little bit harder.

Tease, tease, tease, she groans silently.

Do it, she mouths. Az shakes his head. “Out loud, Morrigan, love. I want to hear you say it.”

“Come,” she whines, her legs spread impossibly wide on the seat for that shadow to pump between. “Come, please, please, I want to see you c-come.”

Azriel snarls, lets his shadows loose until Mor’s head is bent so far back on the soft side rest of the lounge, she almost can’t see him anymore. But it’s Cassian who sits up, gripping Azriel’s waist, and drags his mouth and teeth over his neck - his shoulder. Az shivers, his back arching.

“His wings, his wings - Cauldron, his wings, Cass.”

Let’s see how you like it, she thinks.

The groan that comes out of Azriel when Cassian runs two thick, calloused fingers over the joint of his wing is enough to do it. Az comes hard, incoherent sounds tumbling off his lips, as Cassian holds him, rocks him through it.

They’re both panting hard by the time Azriel removes himself from Cassian’s chiseled frame. And his eyes sharpen on Mor.

As one, they finish her. Azriel’s hand on her clit as he swipes his tongue into her mouth and Mor finds she can still taste Cassian on his lips. And Cassian, two fingers buried deep inside Mor to replace those shadows and make her scream his name one more time. It feels like paradise.

Chests heaving, skin slick with sweat, Cass and Az stoop beside the lounge, their wings stretched out around them. Mor reaches down and runs her fingers through the hairs of one of their heads, she isn’t sure which. Her eyes have fallen shut.

“That feels... nice,” Cassian says, his voice deep and sleepy. It must be him she’s touching. And she quite agrees with the timbre of his voice and the suggestion of retreating to the bed that it holds.

“You know what else would feel nice,” Az says. “If we carried this one room over.”

Magic at work, Mor can already hear the deep pool of their bathing room running and imagines what that delicious steam would feel like over her skin with these two males on either side of her. Suddenly, she’s wide awake again. Perhaps a bath before bed is just what they need.

She pops up and grabs a handful of Az’s hair, pulling him to her lips and kissing him deeply. “Let’s go get cleaned up, hmm?” she teases when they pull apart.

Cassian chuckles and offers Mor his hands. “Come on.” When she’s on her feet, Cassian immediately scoops her up into his arms and his skin against hers, naked and pressed closed, feels like the satisfaction she’d been craving all night since that very first tickle touched her ankle at dinner. Azriel stands behind her, chin resting on her head.

“My boys,” Mor hums. Azriel presses a kiss to her neck, softer this time. More personal. “What would I do without you two, eh?”

“Suffer infinitely,” Cassian says. Azriel snorts. He’s the first to make it to the bathroom. Cassian lingering behind a moment with Mor in his arms.

Slowly, Mor offers a smile, sweet and gentle and just for him. His head dips and Mor’s heart thumps wildly as his lips press against hers so tenderly, she remembers why she’d liked him so much that first week in the camps when they’d met. Remembers the Illyrian with kindness in his heart. They don’t say anything when they pull apart. They don’t have to. They simply smile warmly and join Az in the pool to wash up with fresh soaps and shampoos smelling of honey and pine.

The bed does not see the trio again for a good long while.

xx