#this is the first fic I've made in a while

[phantomrose96]

Hey, I was just going back to read ABoT from the beginning (BANGER new chapter, by the way), and I realized: next year, it'll have been a decade since you uploaded the first chapter of ABoT! How weird is that???

(ABoT)

You know! Back when I started ABoT, that idea would have terrified me. There was absolutely this huge pressure to be RELEVANT and be FAST, because fandom attention was fleeting. And if you couldn't publish fast, then hey the next big fandom might take everyone's attention in the meantime. And that pressure to be fast definitely chipped against enjoyment of the process, and made me rush early chapters.

And while I wouldn't say that feeling is 100% gone, my perspective has definitely changed. As it turns out, there are people willing to stick it out. When I brought ABoT off hiatus in 2020 I was totally expecting the readership to be gone. But they were there! And there are new readers who find the fic even now. And actually, I have the most fun when I can let myself take my time with the chapters.

And more than any of that, I've had fun with every single chapter. And how nice for me, honestly, that I've had this thing in my life for almost 10 years that I get to have fun with. How lucky that I've got people who still care. How lucky for me to have something like this. It's just nice.

[twooftheluckyones]

Howdy. Hope y'all are doing well. Have to say it was great to see Flinky and Ratau included in the Valentine's Day art. That's been a ship in the community that sort of crept up on me and I had never thought of it before but it makes a lot of sense honestly. Therefore, I had some lore questions. Where do Flinky and Ratau fit in your world? How did they first meet and what made them get together? What were some moments they shared? Difficulties? Hobbies (Outside of Knucklebones that is)? Where are they at now? Finally, are they immortal or have they long since died? Thanks again for the great work you both do.

Thank you! It's been a ship that dug into our brain on a whim too! I have to give credit to rabiesram for drawing it and really getting me into the idea of the "Ratau cult", along with a few fics I've read.

That being said, Ratau was never a super great cult leader, even if he was very devoted. He struggled with his own issues, and had a bad habit of gambling away the cult coffers. It didn't help that he knew he was fated to never win and he would eventually be replaced as per the prophecy. Ratau could never really keep a cult together due to the bishops counter-attacks and his own poor leadership, but he was a crafty bandit prior to his service and knew how to get away with things and survive in the shadows. Flinky, Klunko, and Shrumy were members of their band, and the three eventually became Ratau's disciples and close confidants. Time and time again they would be raided and forced to flee, only to pop up somewhere else, ambushing supply convoys, burning important locations, and doing anything to mess with the bishops.

The comradery between them was and still is bulletproof, but Ratau and Flinky drifted closer over the years. One night, while playing a game of drink or dare, Klunko dared them to "stop beating around the fucking bush already." They both decided to drink, much to the laughter of their friends. But that night, they talked, and by the end they were sharing a bedroll in their squalid little camp.

This was all ages ago, now they are nothing but old wizened ex-bandits, enjoying their glory years. It is true they are hundreds of years old, but being a patron of the god of death has its perks. Ratau never hated Narinder, he was and still is devoted to the god, but Narinder was a harsh god for many decades, and their relationship is rocky to say the least. Una certainly enjoys Ratau for his support and aid, and sees him like a fun uncle. They will play knucklebones for hours!

They're fond of gambling, yes, but also hunting, fishing, brewing beer, and they love to participate in Heket's fight club. They may be old dogs, but they still know how to bite!

[mercurygray]

Advice for a Long Fic

Someone asked me recently for advice about writing a long fic, and I started making a list before realizing this was probably a post rather than a message.

I know I've said most of this before, and none of it is new advice. As with any advice, take what you think will serve you and leave what you think will not. Everyone's process is different.

-*-

Start a new folder in the place where you save your things. This is your new big project folder. You are going to save all the things here.

Decide whether you are going to write the whole thing and then post it, or post it as you go. There are benefits to both of these approaches. I am a post it as you go person, and I have friends who think this is the dumbest approach imaginable. It is whatever works for you and causes less anxiety.

I have a spreadsheet for all of my characters. While I didn't reference it too often while I was writing, the act of making the document helped solidify people in my mind a little. It was also nice to have in case you felt like doing an askbox game on a slow day.

Come up with a naming convention for the things in the big project folder. When your chapter is 'done' it should be switched to the naming convention. Mine was Darkening Sky - Working Chapter Title (for things that were still in progress) and Darkening Sky - 35 - Chapter Title for things that I'd finished. This helped me find things later after I'd been working for three years and would not have remembered what was in a document.

I personally like the model of doing a separate document for each chapter. This allows me to move these episodes around at will without the danger of possibly deleting a large chunk of text. This does not work for everyone! If you like one big document, use one big document.

The other reason I liked lots of little documents is that it gave me the opportunity to slot in other things that I didn't think were originally going to be chapters. When I first started working on TDS, I had a lot of flashes of ideas for different things throughout the whole story, and I wanted to get them down all at once. Some of those made it into the final story. Some did not. Some of them were written for one part of the story but got recycled into a different part. But they are all in the big document folder in case I needed them.

I also did something for TDS that I've never done for a story before - I wrote down all the different story beats and show beats on notecards and I laid them out on my floor underneath cards that had the show episodes on them. (You may have seen pictures of this.) By putting the plot points on notecards, rather than a list, I had maximum flexibility to move them throughout the story and could visualize over a larger space where the story was going. This also allowed the story and the characters to go places I did not think they would go.

Give yourself grace and time. It will not all happen overnight. It does not need to all happen overnight. The people who are expecting it to all happen overnight are not the people you need in your life.

Having said that, a schedule can be a wonderful and valuable thing. I was trying to post a chapter every two weeks during the pandemic, and then when work picked up again I scaled that back to once a month. The schedule was not for the readers. The schedule was for me. Having something to keep myself accountable was helpful to me to prevent burnout (a chapter a day, no thank you) but keep myself moving forward.

I am going to say something provocative here: There is Writing the Fic, and there is Doing Fandom On The Fic. Doing Fandom On The Fic is the "New chapter coming soon!!!" sorts of things. I would be very cautious about feeling like you need to do the second thing. Work on it first. When it is done, it will promote itself. (If you have already created the Doing Fandom thing as a part of your creative process - great! share that! But don't go out of your way to Make Something Just To Have Something.) There is a time and place for the second thing, and it fills a specific need, but there is a different and I would argue more effective way to do that, which is -

Find a Pit Crew. This is an endurance race, not a sprint, which means at some point you are going to look at what you have on the page and you're going to want someone to tell you that you are doing a good job. You're going to need someone to change your tires and change your oil and talk to you at ten o'clock at night when you want to rip everything up. This is not a big public server - this is one or two trusted friends who will listen to your bonkers AUs and what your characters ate for breakfast. Create a server for you and those two people and go have fun. If no one else shows up to this party, you and those two people are still having a great time, and that is what counts.

[deluforlulu]

Soon You'll Get Better

Summary: Luigi comforts you during a hospital visit to have an iron infusion

Word count: 2,206 words

Pure fluff and perhaps the sappiest fic I've ever written.

It had been a few weeks now since your anemia diagnosis. The signs were all there and your boyfriend, Luigi, had been the first to show any notice. Your fair skin was paler than normal and mysterious bruises started to appear on your body. When the two of you went to the gym to work out, you had to cut your exercises short due to you feeling short of breath and as if your heart was going to pound out of your chest. Every activity in general though seemed to take a lot out of you. Not even caffeine helped. You just wanted to sleep. 

After much encouragement from Luigi, you gave in and decided to go to your doctor for some blood tests. To your shock, it turned out that you only had a ferritin of five! Your doctor had even commented that he didn’t know how you were leading a normal life with such a low ferritin level. Almost immediately after the anemia diagnosis, your doctor had put in an order for you to get an iron infusion. Iron pills weren’t an option at this point. It would take several months for your levels to go up if you were to go that route. The doctor wanted immediate results and so did you.

It was a Sunday when Luigi drove you up to the hospital for the infusion. He had the heater on to keep the car toasty enough for your comfort and some music softly playing on the radio. You could feel him sneaking some concerned glances at you as you gazed out the window, observing the people and buildings that you passed by on the drive there. “You okay baby?” he asked, bringing you out of your thoughts. You turned and tried to give him the best smile that you could to reassure him. “Yeah, Lu. Why?” you asked. “I don’t know. You’ve been quiet most of the ride here. So, I just wanted to check.” he replied before taking your hand, wrapping his fingers around it gently.

 A genuine smile came onto your face this time as you felt his fingers delicately caressing your palm. “Yeah, I’m okay. I just don’t know what to expect I guess” you replied as you intertwined your fingers with his. “It’ll be okay. You’re in good hands, you know? The doctors won’t let anything happen to you and neither will I.” he responded before looking right at you, giving you that usual ethereal smile of his. 

Your heart warmed at just the sight and you remembered again just how much you loved this man. “I love you” you told him softly. You hoped he knew it too. Guilt had washed over you lately as you had worried that he thought you were taking him for granted. You had a tendency to push others away when you were going through something as trying as this and you had found yourself doing it with Luigi. He never seemed phased by it though and only pushed his way in to be there for you. He had taught you what it was like to be truly loved. “I love you too, y/n” he replied, kissing the top of your hand while you were at a stop light.

A heavy exhale slipped from your mouth after he had parked the car in the hospital parking lot. The medical anxiety that you have had for over a month washed over you while you viewed the large, gray building. “Lu, I don’t wanna do this. I-I can’t.” you declared, your voice cracking. You made the mistake of going online a few days before the infusion, discovering that it was possible to have an allergic reaction. Even anaphylaxis. You wished you never did as the possibility had been sitting in the back of your mind ever since then. Luigi turned to face you in the car, putting his strong hand on your cheek to get you to focus into the void of his honey brown eyes. “Y/n, yes you can. I know you can. Look how much you’ve been through already. This is just 45 minutes of your day then we can go. Also…” he drifted off. 

Your eyes followed his movements as you watched him reach over the driver’s seat, grabbing a bag. “I brought this for you. I put a coloring book in here and some colored pencils. I also brought a blanket and sweater in here in case you get cold. See? You’ll have a distraction now.” he explained. Your eyes widened in surprise at the sweet gesture, not knowing what to say at first. “When did you do this?” you asked him. “When you were in the shower before we left” he replied, giving you another charming smile. You giggled, leaning him to kiss his lips. “This is so cute babe” you said, looking down to see his UPenn sweater sitting at the top of the bag. He leaned in this time and captured your lips in another kiss, savoring the moment for a while. “You got this y/n. I know it. Now let’s go.” he told you.

After making it up to the 5th floor of the hospital, Luigi and you were escorted from the waiting room and into a small, white room with a curtain. He sat right beside you in a nearby chair while the nurses moved swiftly to check your vitals and insert the IV into your arm. Although you tried your hardest to remain composed, your vitals showed quite the opposite with a raised heart rate and blood pressure. The nurses were also struggling to place an IV as you appeared so nervous that your veins kept spasming.They left temporarily after removing the previous IV to get some new equipment, leaving you with Luigi. He has his fingers wrapped around your arm that you had laid out on the arm of the chair, tracing random patterns along it. 

The action soothed you, but you were starting to feel a little nauseous just now. It was no wonder though. You had not had anything to eat since you woke up. Just then, a nurse had opened the curtain, prepared to try another IV on the opposite arm with the new equipment that she had required. To your luck, this one managed to be successful. Finally, the two of you were in silence, minus the faint hums of the infusion monitor. Your arm felt stiff from all of the tape wound around to secure the needle inside it. Luigi leaned forward, resting his toned arms on his knees as he reached out, caressing your leg. “How are you feeling baby? Anything I can do?” he asked. 

You groaned softly. “Nauseous” you replied, looking down with your eyes closed as you tried to center yourself. Your boyfriend’s broad shoulders stiffened as he straightened his stance. “From the infusion?’ he asked you. “I don’t think so. I just..I didn’t eat anything before we left for the hospital” you confess. Luigi’s thick eyebrows furrowed as he carefully cupped your chin and tilted your head up, looking at you with worry. “Y/n, you need to eat. Your body needs the fuel” he spoke. “Yeah, I know. I just felt stressed for the infusion and was not very hungry.” You sheepishly responded even though you knew he was not actually scolding you. He playfully made a tsking noise and reached into the bag he prepared, bringing out a snack pack of peanut butter and crackers. “And this is exactly why I brought these. I know you well, don’t I?” he smirked, causing your cheeks to become a tint of pink as you smiled. “Yeah yeah” you replied, feigning annoyance with your tone.

Luigi walked over to the chair he was in and moved it so that he was sitting in front of you now, taking a cracker out of the plastic baggie to feed you. You slightly leaned forward, taking a bite out of the cracker he was holding. You giggled after a moment from how endearing the act of Luigi feeding you was. “Lulu, you don’t have to feed me. I have hands” you teased him. You reached to take the cracker from him and froze when the infusion monitor made a loud beeping noise. 

A nurse came in shortly after the beeping started and pushed a few buttons on the monitor to halt the beeping. “All better now. The monitor can be a little sensitive to movement. So, just be careful” she politely told you before leaving the room. Luigi turned back to you, giving you a satisfied look. “Looks like I got my wish. I’m gonna have to feed you.” he stated. You jokingly rolled your eyes, but complied and sat there comfortably while he fed you the peanut butter and crackers. 

Once you felt satiated enough, Luigi tucked away the plastic bag.”Need anything else baby? Water? Are you warm enough?” he asked. You smiled with your eyes half lidded shut from exhaustion, heart fluttering.You looked at him admiringly, running a hand through his thick, dark curls. “You’re such a golden retriever” you teased him. He tilted his head to the side and grinned. “Golden retriever?.. What?..” he asked you, perplexed. “Yeah, you know. Golden retriever energy. Loyal, attentive, positive. It’s a good thing” you assured him and leaned in, tenderly kissing him. He returned the kiss, smiling against your lips. “Mm, you know me. I just like taking care of you” he explained between kisses. 

After the infusion was over, you felt silly for being so worried. Overall, you felt fine minus an ache in both of your legs. According to the hospital staff though, that was to be expected. Once you arrived at the apartment Luigi and you shared, that was when the true fatigue had consumed you. Your legs felt like jelly while you changed out of your day clothes and switched into a silky tank top and matching pair of shorts you wear to bed. A soft moan escaped your lips once you closed your eyes and felt the blankets of the bed consume you like a cloud.

Your eyes flitted open after about an hour of sleep and you looked up, seeing Luigi walking into the room. He smiled as soon as he saw that you were awake. He was in a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt that he frequently wore to bed. You could tell that he must have gotten out of the shower from how his wet hair was clinging to his neck in heavy, glistening strands. “Hey princess” he greeted as he towered over you. "Mm, come to bed baby” you responded with a hand around his wrist, eyes barely open.

A lazy smile spread across your face when you felt the weight of the bed shift as he got into bed with you, scooping you up into his side. You fit into him perfectly like a missing piece. His skin was still warm from the shower and he smelled like the familiar zest of his cologne. His heartbeat steadily thumped beneath you as he landed a kiss to your forehead. “Mm..Can we stay like this forever?” you muffled against his chest. A genuine laugh reverberated off his chest at your question. “Sounds good to me..and do what?” he asked, amused. You shrugged as another smile teased at your laps. “I don’t care. Whatever. As long as it’s me and you and we don’t leave this bed” you declared, earning another laugh from him. “I could get used to that real fast” he purred.

You lifted your head and saw that he was starting to fall asleep. He looked so peaceful with his eyes closed and lips pursed together. His long lashes fanned out finely against his cheeks. “Lu?” you whispered. “Hmm?” he asked, opening one eye to look at you. “I just wanted to say thank you.. Like not just for today, but everything. You take care of me better than anyone else ever has” you answered, pressing a kiss into the nape of his neck. He smiled down at you, running a hand through your hair. “What brought this on?” he asked. “I don’t know. I worry you think I take it for granted cause I can push you away when I’m stressed out. I hope you know that I don’t and that I’m always here for you too.” you emphasized. He cradled the back of your head and leaned in, kissing you deeply. 

“Y/n, I know. You’re silly. Don’t worry. I don’t ask for anything in return either. I just want you to be happy and to know that I love you. That’s all I care about.” he assured you. “I love you too” you returned, giving him another passionate kiss. With those words, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. The world outside faded out as you drifted into a deep slumber with Luigi, his arm snaked around your waist and holding you against him. Life could be hard and throw some of its toughest battles at you. As long as you had each other though, nothing could truly break you.

[traincat]

i’d pay you real money for that “maybe baby” fic.

You can have it for free, but I do have a ko-fi if anyone is interested: https://ko-fi.com/traincat.

Anyway, the baby fic! Based on Fantastic Four Annual 2010, set nebulously post-Secret Wars (2015). I started this in 2016, so we didn't have any definitive answers for the Fantastic Four's return, but it's not really relevant to the fic anyway. I'm still putting together a list of the other WIPs I'm willing to release, but this is one is easy, so here it is.

Baby fic!

***

a torch for you @JSTORM 1h well this is still less complicated than the time i rescued a highlander

a torch for you @JSTORM 1h aw she likes her uncle benjy @clobberintime #rockstar

a torch for you @JSTORM 1h good thing about this is @peterbparker never checks his phone so he's still gonna be surprised

--

The first thing Peter registered was the vaguely defensive look on Johnny's face. The second was the baby.

"Wherever you found it, you put it back right now," he said.

The look Johnny gave him was venomous. "Oh, sure. Let me just toss the helpless infant back where she came from! What a great idea, thank you, Peter!"

"I'll get the portal ready," Val said. She was sitting crosslegged way on the other end of the room, holding a tablet computer like a shield and eyeing the baby like she might try to bite her.

"Shush," Johnny said, but it wasn't clear whether he meant it for the baby or Val or possibly for Peter, whose jaw had started making a strange grinding noise of its own volition.

Peter leaned forward to get a better look. The baby had ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes and she was squirming in Johnny's arms even as he hummed and hushed and bounced her up and down, still dressed in his costume. She was so small, wrapped in what looked like one of the shock blankets from the Fantasticar's emergency kit.

"If I put her down, she starts to cry," Johnny confessed.

Peter's heart was doing something disturbingly close to melting. He tugged off a glove and reached out with tentative fingers, stroking soft cheek and wispy dark hair. The baby yawned, barely batting an eye.

Peter looked at Johnny and said, "Why are you doing this to me?"

Johnny wasn't looking at him, though - his gaze was fixed on the baby, eyes soft.

"Look, Peter, you need to know before this part gets out - Reed ran all the tests. She's mine, Pete."

That threw Peter for a loop, but looking for traces of Johnny in the baby's face - yeah, he could see it.

"How? And don't tell me the usual way. Where did she come from?"

Johnny told him: the club, the girl, the supervillain. Peter hissed in sympathy when he hit the part about Psycho Woman spending two months hanging around in Johnny’s brain, touching his fingers to Johnny's temple. Johnny's voice wavered as he got to the end: the fall, the jump, Amy's disappearance through time.

"But time travel's weird. And we've torn everything apart and rebuilt it so many times… Amy never came back after she made the temporal jump," Johnny said, sliding Peter a cautious look, like he thought he might - what, upset? "I've gone looking for her before, but if she was out there, she didn't want me to find her. And then today we were just looking between dimensions, you know?"

"Just your typical Sunday," Peter said, mouth on autopilot while the rest of him was stunned. Johnny's child, here, safe in Johnny's arms - and to think Peter had swung in to ask about dinner and beating up the Shocker.

"Reed found traces of a familiar cosmic radiation signature," Johnny said, shaking his head. "Mine. And then we found her."

"So," Peter echoed, feeling lost. "She's yours. Really yours."

"Yeah," Johnny said, nodding. "She was all alone and in between. But she's alive and she's mine."

Peter leaned his head against Johnny's. "She's a little small for the Future Foundation."

"Well, the weird thing is," Johnny said, smiling, "they don't stay that way for long."

Val put the tablet down and said, "Oh come on, are we seriously not going to throw her back?"

--

Peter Parker @peterbparker 15m he promised me life would never be boring…

--

It had been at the end of the world. The incursion had been fast approaching, and this time - this time Peter could feel it in his bones. The end, just over the horizon.

It had scared him more than he ever wanted to admit.

"You're coming with us," Johnny had told him in a voice that brooked no argument. He'd caught Peter's hands in his own inhumanly warm ones, squeezing. "Reed says we'll have time once we're beyond. We'll work something out. We can fix it."

Peter had wanted it, so badly - but. Always the but.

"I should stay with the city. You've got room for, what, a hundred people?"

"Sixty," Johnny admitted, forehead creased in worry. "Peter - you're one of the big brains. You belong with us."

"One of, but not big enough," Peter said. "You need my spot for someone smarter, someone who can help fix this -"

The kiss had been unexpected, a tentative thing, just the soft press of Johnny's lips against his masked mouth, Johnny's fingertips careful as anything underneath his chin.

"You're family," he said, breaking apart, his forehead resting against Peter's. "And you're coming with us. We'll have time."

Peter took a deep shuddering breath and said, "Okay."

He let himself have this one selfish thing, standing on top of the Statue of Liberty with Johnny Storm the day before the end of the world.

He let himself be selfish, and then the raft split apart and Johnny paid the price. He knew it deep in his bones, every second he watched Johnny fall away. Maybe that was why he didn't say anything when they were returned safe and sound to their own world. Or maybe it was cowardice, him waiting for Johnny to make the first move a second time. Maybe it was the way he still remembered blinking the spots from his eyes down in Battleworld, staring at the sun in search of a familiar face.

It didn't matter. He had Parker Industries, and Johnny had moved on with Medusa. Peter had gotten one kiss at their usual spot - if that was all he was granted, well, it was more than enough for two lifetimes. He could live with it.

Except he lost the company, Medusa worked it out with Black Bolt, the missing members of the Fantastic Family returned with a fairly literal bang, and Johnny and Peter ended up crash landing in a rooftop hotel pool.

Parker Luck, doing its very finest.

He'd taken the brunt of the hit, thankful for it - he was more durable than flamed-off Johnny - but the rush of cold water made him gasp, fighting his way to the surface. Johnny surfaced beside him, gasping, and Peter grabbed a handful of his collar. He dragged them both to the shallow end as tourists scattered left and right.

"We're fine, thanks for asking!" Peter shouted after them. "Can anybody grab me a towel?" Johnny was laughing by the time Peter collapsed against the steps, languishing in knee deep water. "New Yorkers. What's so funny?"

"You," Johnny said, looking at Peter with shining eyes. He started laughing again when Peter groaned, shoulders shaking with it. Peter slid a hand over the back of his head, checking for bumps.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Peter said. He told himself to take his hand off Johnny, but he didn't. He just kept touching him, pushing Johnny's soaked hair up off his forehead. Johnny was staring at him, all traces of humor gone from his face. Now or never. Peter swallowed hard. "Johnny, you know I -"

"Just shut up," Johnny said, climbing into Peter's lap. He shoved Peter's soaked mask up over the bridge of his nose, twining his arms around Peter's neck. "Shut up, shut, god, Pete, why don't you ever say anything important?"

The kiss made Peter's head spin -and he had to grab Johnny by the shoulders and put some considerable strength into prying him off just long enough so he could talk.

"Me? What about you?" he said. "I thought - you never said anything when we got back."

"What about me?" Johnny said, pouting a little when Peter wouldn't let him lean forward again. "You're supposed to be the smart one."

Peter couldn't argue with that without walking straight into a trap.

"Dammit," he said, and pulled Johnny back on top of him until security showed up.

--

May Parker-Jameson @mayparker 3m When you learn important family news from TWITTER of all places

--

"May - May, I am telling you, I did not know about this," Peter said, standing in the doorway with the phone sandwiched between his shoulder and ear, one hand in his hair, the other on his hip. "Because I'm pretty sure you knew before me, is why. No, I don't know - I got home and he was holding a baby, okay, that is the extent of the story. He found her. Yeah, like, with a dog - I'm not calling your grandchild a dog, your grandchild, what, whose side are you on?!"

Johnny was laughing at him from the other room, which he thought was completely unfair. Peter threw strangling motions at him, scowling. Johnny stuck his tongue out. The baby cooed.

"Can I put him on the phone? Can I make him explain this to you?" he said, listing to the side until his head hit the doorframe.

"Hi, May!" Johnny called cheerfully, making the baby wave. He was a monster and Peter deeply hated his coalition with his aunt. He zoned back in time to hear "- you're my nephew, I want to hear it from you."

"I'm your nephew, yeah, but he's the one who went time hopping and found his kid." He sobered, rubbing at his forehead. "Honestly, May, I'm telling you, I know as much as you do."

"Well, I could do with knowing her name," May said, clucking her tongue.

Peter blanked. He cupped a hand over the receiver and leaned forward. "Johnny. What's her name?"

Johnny blinked, then looked down at the baby. "Um."

"Yeah, May?" Peter said into the phone. "We're actually going to have to get back to you on that one."

--

Jennifer Walters @jenatlaw 30m Some days it's just not worth your custom ordered MAC foundation. "Crocodile” btw.

Jennifer Walters @jenatlaw 30m Told the woman I was really more of a shark. She didn't laugh. It's not easy being green, folks.

--

Jen dropped off paperwork with a lot of eyerolling, a threat of resignation, and an order that the baby be kept away from her.

"This is Stella McCartney," she said, gesturing to her blazer. "You keep that thing out of range."

"Hey!" Johnny protested.

(...)

Jen gave the baby one last warning look and then whirled out on her heels, moloid kids flocking in her wake.

"Auntie Jen is a scary Hulk," Johnny told the baby. The baby gurgled in agreement.

"Auntie Jen heard that!" Jen yelled from the hall. "Start with picking a name! Jennifer's a great one!"

"Have you considered Petunia?" Ben asked nonchalantly.

"I have never and will never consider Petunia," Johnny said blithely. "Next suggestion."

"Howzabout Benjamina?" said Ben.

"No," Johnny said. Peter made a hemming noise and he repeated, forcefully, "No."

"Benita?" Ben said, rocky brows raised high. Peter stifled a snicker with a fake cough, ducking his head.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Johnny asked Ben, scowling.

"I came back from space for this family and this is the treatment I get," Ben grumbled, getting up off the sofa. He paused in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. His gaze went all soft at the sight of Johnny and the baby. Peter couldn't blame him. "Hey, kid. I'm really happy for ya."

Johnny looked up at him and smiled, tired and real. "Love you too, Rocky."

Ben heaved a great sigh like Johnny's love was some kind of terrible life sentence - Peter knew the feeling - and left the room.

"This is hard," Johnny said, throwing his head back. The baby was asleep in his arms, blissful in her ignorance. "Can I conference in Victor?"

"Please don't," Peter said. He stroked the baby's soft, downy hair with one gentle finger, feeling an equal mix of awe and terror. "Marie?"

"Like Mary?" Johnny said, contemplative. "My mom's name was Mary."

Peter shifted. "Uh, sure. But also like - Marie Curie?"

Johnny looked up at him, eyes narrowed. "Are you serious?"

"She discovered two elements!" Peter said, defensive.

"She died from radiation poisoning!" Johnny said. "I don't care if it worked out for you!"

(...)

"Just in the grand plan for my life, this is not how I thought it'd go," Peter said.

"And then you got bit by a radioactive spider and all the rules went out the window," Johnny said, yawning. "Old news. Pete, you know I'd never ask you to do anything you're not ready for. I want this, but if you don't -"

The sincerity on his face was unbearable. Peter cupped a hand to his face and shut him up the only way that ever really worked.

"Aimee," Johnny said at last. His head fell to Peter’s shoulder; Peter curled a hand in his hair. "After her mom."

"I like it," Peter said, watching her sleep. "Aimee it is."

Aimee Benni Storm was what was written on the birth certificate in the end. Johnny looked Peter straight in the eye and said, "You tell Ben and you're a dead man."

--

(...)

"See?" Sue said, humming. "Living with the in-laws has its perks. I remember this age - it's a good one. Just wait 'til they can talk back."

"I love you," Peter told her. "Leave Reed and run away with me to Majorca."

Sue smirked, leaning over to palm his cheek. "You're adorable."

--

"Whoa," Miles said, flipping out of nowhere and matching his swing with Peter's. "Is that a baby?"

"Here," Peter said. "Why don't you hold her for a sec?"

"Oh, I don't, um, okay, wow, hi, baby," Miles stammered when Peter didn't give him much of a choice. Aimee was a sucker for anyone in webs, so Miles ended up making alarmed sounds when tiny hands tried to grab his mask. "When did you get a baby?"

"She's the Human Torch's baby, technically," Peter said, stretching.

Miles looked down, clearly alarmed through the mask. "Is she gonna light on fire too?"

Aimee cooed.

"Nah," Peter said, arms high above his head. "Probably not."

"Peter!" Miles said.

"I am like 98% sure she will remain flame free," Peter said. "But fine, give her back."

Peter was pretty sure the only reason Miles didn't thrust Aimee back was because he was too afraid to make any sudden moves. She made a sleepy, annoyed noise when Peter lifted her from Miles's arms.

"Why do you have the Human Torch's baby?" Miles asked, a very quiet version of shouting.

(...)

"Last chance to keep her," Peter said.

"I'm good," Miles said.

--

“Okay,” Sue said when she found them in the kitchen at three in the afternoon. Johnny was still in pajamas; Peter was wearing half his spider-suit. Aimee was wearing brunch. “Enough is enough. When was the last time either you left this building?”

“Carjacking,” Peter said, yawning. “Guy dressed like a possum knocking over a Chase. Do I need to go on?”

Johnny was trying to get mashed banana out of his hair. “I don’t know, I think I did something - Tuesday? Was it Tuesday? I had that interview.”

“You cancelled that interview,” Sue told him.

“Huh,” said Johnny, then made an outraged squawking noise when Sue swept in and grabbed the baby from him. “Hey!”

“You’re going out tonight,” Sue said, eyes narrowed. “Together.”

Johnny and Peter stared at each other.

“Together, like, him and me?” Peter said, gesturing between them.

“I think we used to do that,” Johnny said faintly.

“Save the comedy routine,” Sue told them, bouncing Aimee in her arms. All the mashed banana didn’t seem to bother her. She jerked her chin first at Johnny, then at Peter. “You, put on something nice. You - try to do the same. I’m making a reservation for you someplace nice, without supervillains or babies.”

“Do we have to?” Peter asked.

“Can’t we just sleep instead?” Johnny said.

“No,” Sue said. “It’ll be good for you.”

“This is not paying me back for all the times I babysat for you!” Johnny called after her as she carried Aimee from the kitchen down the hall.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sue said. “Ben owes me a favor.”

Johnny scowled at her back. “She took my baby.”

“Aw no,” Peter said, plucking at his spandex. “I’m going to have to wear a dinner jacket, aren’t I.”

--

Peter came through the door so tired he couldn't see straight, only to have a baby shoved into his arms. Aimee gurgled happily when Peter's arms came up around her automatically.

"Oh no," he said. "Johnny, I'm about to fall over -"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Johnny said, not sounding very sorry at all. He leaned into kiss Peter - that Peter kissed back was muscle memory, he was pretty sure, because the only thing he felt towards Johnny in that second was the sleep-deprived urge to strangle. "I've got that photoshoot, remember? I'll be back soon, I promise. Love you!"

Peter watched him go with narrowed eyes.

"Should we tell him his shirt's on backwards, Firebug?" he asked Aimee. She put her head down against his shoulder with an annoyed sounding little sigh. "No? No." He hummed to her, heading for the couch. "I'm gonna go evil and I'm gonna kill your dad, yes I am. This is my supervillain origin story."

(...)

"Peter? Are you awake?" Franklin whispered.

"M'just resting my eyes," Peter replied.

"Okay," Franklin said hesitantly. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Peter cracked an eye open. "Do you have a Galactus stashed in the basement?"

"No," Franklin said, looking a little put out about it.

"Then go for it," Peter said, yawning.

Franklin was quiet for so long Peter had almost drifted off when he spoke.

"When Dad and Mr. Reece and I were putting the universes back the way they should be… I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I knew Uncle Johnny was going to be lonely without us, and I think I maybe accidentally gave him Aimee back."

Peter rolled over onto his back, fully awake now. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, thoughts tumbling - how unfair it was that any kid in the universe should be able to do what Franklin could. How glad he was that if any kid could, it was Franklin.

"But I think I messed up," Franklin said. "She didn't end up where she was supposed to."

(...)

--

"Okay," Peter said, "I know this might not be the best kind for this conversation -"

"You are gifted with the understatement!" Johnny shouted as he streaked by a little too close for comfort, a rush of flames and heat.

"Spidey," Johnny said, swooping down to hover in front of him. "Get to the point, please."

"My point," Peter said, as best as he could with Johnny so bright and so hot and so close, "is that we might need a nanny."

Johnny turned his face towards him, his eyes glowing embers and his face barely more than an outline in flickering flames - and then he burst out laughing.

"Oh," he said, darting away. He circled a group of bugs, leaving them huddled together and clacking while Ben bagged them. "Now he wants a nanny. Do you believe this?"

(...)

--

Ben Grimm @clobberintime 1m when you wanna watch the game and the marrieds + kid are asleep on the couch. what a revoltin development.

--

Peter woke slowly, drifting in and out of consciousness, too warm and content to care.

"Ben took a photo of us and put it on the internet," Johnny said, waving his phone.

***

And that's the WIP! Not much action, just Johnny and Peter being cute with a baby.

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Out of curiosity, how many people could Matthew nom? Ever since reading the first chapter I've had this image of Jack maybe joining the reader in Matthew's belly to get cuddles while also having the reader be protected.

Would Matthew feel winded if he nommed one or all of his brothers?

I think the boys could nom each other since, being made of dough, they can change their shape or size. I just like the idea of their default size being giant because Doey was pretty massive too. The idea of Matthew nomming Jack because Jack wants to cuddle with the reader and comfort them is actually so cute. You may now see that in the fic muahahahaha >:)

If you, Jack, AND Kevin are in Matthew’s stomach? He may feel a little winded. That’s a bit too much. But back when they were still Doey, I like the idea of Doey nomming the reader and then Matthew, Jack, and Kevin materializing out of the interior and cuddling with them. It would be much easier with Doey’s larger form for all three of them to hold the reader.

[xylatox]

with wings of wax and thread | hik

Another fic from Cam and a Kai fic no less, this interests me so much, unto the review!!

Before I even start, I've always been obsessed with angel and demon themes and the fact that Kai is mode or less fallen makes me more obsessed.

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. — god the beginning is so enrapturing.

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. — this description is absolutely insane what the fuck.

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. — I love this. I am absolutely geeking out over every word so far. It's all phrased so wonderfully. I'm also super interested in reader, she's so intruding. I also love that contrary to typical demon behavior, reader chooses to save Kai, that further makes her such an interesting character.

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. — the fact that reader is on her own, it hurts to even think of what she went through.

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. — it's so cool that reader is technically demon by birth(?) but lacks all the physical attributes to deem her one, it's makes her even cooler.

Reader's personality!! I love it, I love that there's already thus barrier between them as a result of it.

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. — Cam...you have such a way with words.

I love that despite the hesitance from reader when they first interacted, it's really sweet now like —“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. — her caring is super cute.

Also I just wanna say, candle wax is an interesting method to stick the feathers back??? like I wouldn't have thought about it.

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.  — im going to sob, how could something be so sweet yet so sad.

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. — :((((

Also the way reader fights over her natural feelings as a demon?? my heart breaks. —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. — poor baby.

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. —HELLLLLLIIIIIOOOO??? This was actually so attractive good bye, like the trust, the intimacy behind this???

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. — oh my god. From Kai letting her go to this...it's insane. It reminds me of Icarus :(

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

I'm so glad I finally got to take my time and read this.

Cam, your writing is beautiful, the way you've described things has left me beyond words. I absolutely love the end where they were both able to relive falling but their emotions were so different at the time. I just love that they're the same ah, this was so amazing♡

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!

[habibisagi]

HAIIIIII i am taking a hiatus / lil break from the app !!!! ^>_<^

TLDR; swamped with school stuff, i want to write and finish my longfic and hope to have it ready to post by isagi's birthday [april 1st], + anxiety being on here no good ^_^

also, coincidentally, RAMADAN KAREEM!!! ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ i love you so much, please take care of yourself and your loved ones this month, as will i ^_^ <3

-> back to navi. ^¬‿¬^

ok first off peep the pic dude it's fucking frying me so bad KJHSDFJK i saw the cat with an apple on its head and went omg. what if i put a soccer ball instead. and then horrified isagi because the ball is stolen by the winner cat and he lost. ^¬‿¬^ i'm a genius i fear

anyway KJSDH OMG okay SO. this is my first hiatus YIPPEEE!!!! specifically, my first one since i got back on the app last year in may lol and before that i was gone for over a year (but that was unannounced like i just randomly disappeared KJHSDFK). cuz usually if i wanna be gone for a few days or take a little break i just don't get on tbh lmao like i don't need to make an announcement or say i'm taking a hiatus since it's no big deal!! especially since i'm not really actively posting writing or anything, so no real need for one.

however, for this one i am not too sure how long!! and so that's why i figured i would make one!! ;3c jic anyone was curious why the sudden disappearance ehe AND so i can like. force myself to be off here completely. like "girl you made a hiatus post now it would be embarrassing and bad to be on here still so shoo. and do your thing creature." but you will definitely see me back by april 1st ^_^ maybe earlier than that if i can get my shtufffff together quicker <3

and before you ask, no it is not because of ramadan! it's a pure coincidence actually, and it's making me smile and emotional a bit because ramadan is a month about forgiveness and taking care of yourself/sticking to yourself, among finding inner peace within yourself, so it was just meant to be and a sign for me to take time off <3

one of the first reasons is i'm behind on a lot of assignments rn and i have important deadlines coming up and so i need to get back on track for that, and the app is a huge blocker for me because i have 0 self-discipline v_v

the second is also another deadline but this one i wanna set for myself and not school related! and that is i'd like to focus and write my shoujo isagi fic and finish it while having fun at my own pace, and hopefully have it done by his birthday, which is april 1st!! >_< so omg exactly a month from now ehe (this part wasn't planned but the coincidence is bananas. truly a sign...). but yeah my adhd is poopoo farts and tumblr distracts me so much and i will have fun / even no fun on here for hours and get nothing done on what i actually wanna do </3 LOL. that is my shawty bae princess pookie pie boyfriend and i wanna focus on his fic and do something FOR ME for once :3!!!!! i wanna get so lost in the sauce as i write i forget i have tumblr and that i have to post it. that it gets done and i would be like "ohh i could def post this" NOT "omg i wanna finish this to post it". DOES THIS MAKE SENSE okay cool beans

the main part, however, is just some unexplained irrational anxiety i've been getting on here that makes me feel chronically online in a bad way and it hurts me LMAOOO. some interactions not seeming equally reciprocated and passive aggressive or even dry and then i feel isolated lol. even feeling like i'm being taken for granted. and I HATE THATTTTTTTTTTTTT booooo. i can be a deadbeat myself fs but i never actually ignore anyone and i am always interacting and putting in that effort and responding eventually and equally (off the inbox). and while no one is obligated to give it back or owes it (since DUH everyone has a life and stuff and no one owes you anything), as it's no one fault - it still stings a bit and i'm allowed to feel sad and pissy about it!!! v__v

(i'm not vaguing anyone specific btw, so really like. /nbhs ig i'm just saying in general this is how i've been feeling! and i'm valid for it ehe.)

yk that saying that's like "if they wanted to, they would"? i want to accept that ^_^ if someone wants to match my energy, interact in the way i do, they would. and if they don't they don't. BOO. i can't keep feeling upset about it. cuz like we are here having fun being silly about fictional characters at the end of the day, so truly it is not that serious LMFAOOO and maybe i am just being a wee bit dramatic, but my anxiety really is off the charts rn. so don't blame me ok.

you can always take time out of your day if you cared enough, and some just don't. and that's okay :3c!! when you give too much of yourself that is when you STOP and take a step back. and that is what i shall be doing ehe. not worth my time, not worth my energy.

i will be logging off completely and not checking notifs or the dash as soon as i post this >_> TIME AWAY WILL DO ME GOOD ONCE AGAIN. i won't even lurk or look up blogs to keep up or anything tbh because right now i just feel anxious and weird and i don't wanna be here >_< tumblr smelly and stinky right now i want me time

MUTUALS I WILL DEFINITELY STILL BE ON DISCORD IF YOU WANNA CHAT WITH ME BTW i am just getting off this app for a bit. I LOVE U i'm putting my discord in the tags :>

[weevilreg]

🦖 ⼃dinosaur playdate .ᐟ

ft. reg van & jackie | they/she prns for van

First ever full fic I've written so it might be kinda bad but I had the amazing idea of little friends van & jackie and jumped on it! Hope that over time I improve my writing skills and learn stuff but for now i hopes u enjoy!! ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა

Usually when she’s regressed, Jackie’s alone.

Or at least she’s with Shauna, her caregiver. She’s not too open about her regression, the team knows of course, but she’s never regressed when around them.

Until today. She had already woken up small, and although she was content staying at home with Shauna, she had forgotten that Shauna already had plans.

Tai and Shauna had work to do, school stuff that while small Jackie couldn't really care about. It also couldn’t be rescheduled according to Shuana, and so here they were, Jackie clutching her hand as Shauna knocks on the door of the Turner residence.

Tai’s parents aren’t home, Shauna had reassured her on the drive here, but Jackie was still a little nervous.

Jackie liked Tai, she was smart and kind and helped her keep the team in check, she figures if there’s anyone on the team she’d be okay with being small around for the first time it was her.

She still ducks behind Shauna when the door opens, though. Clutching her flannel as Shauna says hi and leads them into the home.

Eventually she lets go, though. Offering a small wave to Tai when she greets her.

“Van’s playing in the other room if you want to go join them.” She offers and Jackie pauses, her ears picking up the faint noises drifting from the mentioned room.

She hadn’t known Van would be here.

It made sense, though. Tai was Van’s caregiver, afterall.

Jackie glances at Shauna, who gives her an encouraging nudge before turning back to Tai to talk about their big kid stuff.

Jackie shuffles across the floor, sparing another glance over her shoulder before she rounds the corner into the room where the noises were coming from.

She finds Van on the floor, slamming her toys against one another in a form of play unfamiliar to Jackie.

Jackie hovers, going unnoticed for a few seconds until Van’s eyes catch a glimpse of the sparkly sneakers beside her.

The two look at each other for a moment, Jackie offering a hopefully friendly smile and a small hand wave before Van smiles back. “Wanna play?”

Jackie glances at the pile of toys Van had laid out before her, noticing how they were all dinosaur figures of various shapes and sizes. Van seems to notice, picking one of them up. “This is my t-rex, do you like him? What dinosaurs do you have at your home?”

“I don’t have dinosaurs at home.” She admits after a moment, crouching down on the floor beside them.

“Oh.” Van says, eyebrows briefly scrunching together. “What kind of toys do you have then?”

Jackie shrugs, she had her bunny stuffed animal, but that wasn’t a toy, he was a friend. She did have a few barbies tucked in a box up at the top of her closet, but unless Shauna was over she couldn’t reach them.

“Sometimes my barbies.” She eventually says, shrugging.

“Oh. I don’t have those. I can teach you how to play dinosaurs though, if you want.” Van offers, and after a pause Jackie nods, smiling softly. “Yes, please.”

“Okay!” Van says excitedly, messily pulling the pile of dinosaur figures closer to the two of them.

“Usually I’m the t-rex,” she gestures to the dinosaur in question and Jackie nods, vaguely familiar with at least the most popular types of ancient lizard monsters. “And when Nat plays she’s the triceratops, it’s the one with the cool horns, see?”

Jackie nods, its horns were pretty cool, it had three whole ones! She could see a little Nat making it stomp around.

“Which one do you want to be?” Jackie presses her lips together, turning to study the pile of dinosaurs.

There's a lot of them, some with long necks, others with sharp horns and some with spikes on their backs.

One catches her eye though, it's orange in color with a pointy head and a pair of leathery wings.

She picks it up, turning it in her hands. “I like this one.” She says and Van nods, leaning over to look at it.

“A pera- uh, terry, a flying one,” she says after a few attempts at the dinosaur's undoubtedly long name. “I like those, they're cool.”

Jackie nods in agreement, clutching the new toy in her hands before Van picks up their t-rex again.

“Okay, so the t-rex is the big boss dinosaur, it eats all the other ones.” She says seriously, but Jackie frowns lightly, looking down at her dinosaur.

She’d just gotten hers, she didn’t want it to get eaten. “Can they be friends instead of fighting?” she softly asks, toying with its bendy wings.

Van presses their lips together, considering the offer. She always made the dinosaurs fight, just like in the pictures in her books, even when she was playing with Nat.

But Jackie wasn’t Nat, and this was her first time playing dinosaurs, and maybe she didn’t have any dinosaur books to look at. It made sense, she didn’t have any dinos so why would she have dino books?

Plus, before Jackie and Shauna had come over Tai had told her to be nice to Jackie, and she didn’t want to be mean and eat her dinosaur, she had just got it after all.

“Okay. What will the dinosaur friends do?” She says after a moment, feeling proud of themself when Jackie beams happily.

“Um, well maybe they could play soccer?” Jackie offers and Van nods in excitement, having never considered making the dinosaurs play her sport.

“My t-rex can be the goalie even though he has small arms.” Van says, arranging some stray blocks into a makeshift goal. Jackie nods as she moves her dinosaur as well as a few others into positions across the carpet mimicking that of their team when they played.

They pause for a moment to search for a ball, Van eventually finding one from a coin machine small enough to work.

They flick it around in tandem with the stomps of their dinosaur’s feet, giggling whenever they actually manage to hit it.

Van even manages to stop it a few times by shifting their t-rex sideways, and Jackie also manages to get a few goals past them, making the dinosaurs pause to jump around and celebrate whenever it happens.

Eventually though Shauna returns for her, and after hugging Van bye and thanking Tai they head back out the front door.

Jackie tells Shauna about her playdate when she asks if she had fun, including all the new dinosaurs facts she remembers that Van told her in-between their fun.

But after she finishes Jackie grows quiet for a moment, eventually softly asking if she could maybe have another playdate with Van again sometime.

“Of course,” Shauna says with a grin, internally delighted that Jackie had made a little friend. “I’ll have a talk about it with Tai when we get home.”

Jackie nods happily, and after a moment quickly adds, “Can I get some dinosaurs too?” Shauna chuckles, her nod not even being considered before it happens. “Sure.”

[rekino2114]

whenever Emma magorobi has to do a kiss scene she probably insists on swapping out the male actor with reader every time

A/n:Since today, the oscars are happening (I don't follow them. I just searched it up to line these posts with the date) I thought it was fitting to do some requests for Emma so I decided to do this drabble and a full fic with Emma and the other ultimate actress I write for so expect that in a few hours. (.....probably I still have to study a lot)

Emma doesn't star in that many romance movies, mainly because she doesn't want to act romantic with a guy who isn't you, but when her agent told her they had already signed her up for this specific one there was nothing she could do but be angry and tell you.

You calmly told her there was nothing wrong with that and you knew that it didn't mean anything and it was part of the job but her sweet self still felt a bit guilty even if it wasn't her fault.

so she at least brought you on set with her so you could still be together. She read over the script, and while she was still mad, she could handle doing most of the scenes if she got to kiss you immediately after. But the final kiss scene just made her want to puke reading it . Just because it wasn't you, she would gladly do the exact same thing with you.......and that gave her an idea.

"M-miss magorobi what are you saying?"

"I'm not doing the scene with anyone but y/n"

"B-but he's not an official actor and the fac-"

"I don't care find a way to fix that or you're not getting the ultimate actress in your movie"

That was the first time you saw Emma act like the mean and spoiled celebrities she dislikes, but she would do anything for you even act that part

"Are you nervous love?"

"Y-yeah it's the first time I've been in a movie scene"

"Don't worry, just think of it like a normal kiss between us"

After the kiss, Emma somehow felt like she actually wanted to star in the movie, and so she told her agent that she had to bring you in every future romantic movie she would star in so the kiss scene could be between you or she wouldn't do them.

[guzhufuren]

Hey, I've noticed you've been pretty quiet lately and I hope you're doing okay. I know we're not friends or even mutuals so I'm sorry if I'm overstepping by messaging! I hope the world will treat you kindly and that you can find comfort and support if you need it 💕

hi sweetheart wow this is so genuinely nice and kind of you, thank you so much for caring to the point of reaching out

i'm on the way there! i will be okay, hopefully soon. it's not serious, i just had a medium sized break down after receiving a very negative comment on something i made, in mix with a bit of unrelated loneliness and yearning on top of that, plus many many 4am drowsy what-am-i-doing-with-my-life regretful thoughts that i have had in the last months swimming up. like for my unwellness history it's really only about 6 points on the scale where the maximum is 10, so not big. i turned all social apps off but couldn't shake off the distress caused by that one stranger on the internet being unkind to my project, despite knowing they were misunderstanding and were also not in a state to understand at all, so i was kind of confused about what's up with my brain and why it can't move on

and it was a good choice! because after being only with myself without any internet distractions for the first time in years, figured out in just a day that mood swings have been back for a while, over one month at least (so anger issues weren't totally Yunho's fault actually bless him), some other parts of mental health worsened too

got a grip on myself, went to my doctor, got back on meds, now i'm sleepy every minute of waking hours while my body is getting used to them again, but it's gonna be fine. received advice on how to write a mood log, turns out very helpful as additional treatment to keep hypomania and anxiety under control. i even started working out, doing memory exercises and preparing my exam notes tentatively, which is so hard and scary, oh my god, but i must. job search is even scarier but i'm working myself up to finding a good one with little, very very very very tiny steps but they are moving

in the first day of self made quarantine i rewatched the queer korean show Love for Love's Sake that cured me from depression for a while and from any possibility of suicidality for a lifetime last year. it didn't work the trick again, because i'm really not living in the best or even just calm psychological environment to let it do its magical healing thing the way it should, but it did give me new clarity and make me intensely cry some shit out, so that was also very nice

accidentally found the best fic ever and it brought me so much very needed comfort in the past week. it's sweet, funny and stress free. like a warm blanket. or a cup of vanilla cocoa that makes your cold toes tingle in winter. or a hug from the love of your life. first atz and woosan fic to enter my hall of all time longfic favourites. very rare honor but it deserves it completely

also found a bunch of bloggers who post videos of the ocean in Thailand, some even stream the beach 24/7. it's so cool, i watch it in the evenings for short periods of time. helps making it bearable to just survive here a little bit longer until i am able leave

i sort of of really like that when i don't spend 12 hours a day on the phone doing mind-numbing scrolling or posting, there is so much free time to do cool stuff? i have kinda felt like i can be back on here for a couple of days, but i still freak out a bit for two reasons. first, that bad comment is still hanging there and it still makes me too upset to open notifications or my own blog page, which is ridiculous but that's how my dumbass unwell-brain-made feelings are. so i will see how that goes away and i get over it like an adult. second, i'm scared to be sucked back in the addiction to the colourful little hellsite app so i usually end up throwing the phone away in panic after 5 minutes of the app being open. maybe i will work up to it more gradually, don't know, let's see how that goes too

thank you again my little treasure, i will happily take that kindness and comfort you offered here as you are a part of the world. and you can message without worrying anytime, no mutualship or officially labelled friendship necessary. i'm very cool with small amount of interactions, just not big on chatting online one on one for long and don't enjoy it super much. and also with how often i see you around we are considered friends for sure. so thank you again for being so sweet i really am so grateful to you for this, one hundred friend hugs in return

[lynelsscareme]

Two Hero of Legend's walk into a restaurant, and neither is ever, ever going to tell their respective group what they just saw.

Swift:

Legend:

Swift: ... Never talk about this?

Legend: deal.

Gates of Courage and Linked Universe are entirely different trees in the garden of time. They can see each other, and entangle their branches, but they can only ever grow and drop their own leaves. Legend is from a universe where he will - maybe - retire and have a life. Swift did... not do that. Did not do that at all. Legend dreamed and woke up, faith in happy endings shattered. Swift's nightmare kept going when he left Koholint, and that quest isn't the only one with nothing to show for it except bad memories and poor sleep.

(There is only one Ravio per timeline, after all, and Swift dreamt his away by accident. Much like many other quests he only barely remembers completing across time and reality itself... He's not really sure what number he's up to, and he's not sure quests in realms that may no longer exist after his timeline converges in the War of Eras matter in the count.

In the end, between the two, only one of them carved an Ocarina out of a time stone, and of all his regrets at least Legend doesn't have to lose sleep over that.)

Because of how massive the fandom base is for LU, I might as well state the differences up front so people don't get confused by changed characters and circumstances for each link. No, they aren't part of the same timeline (tree, I've decided to consider it) but they have a lot of shared patterns. The most glaring differences is both the number of Links (Gates has... an unholy amount) and the sequence of events. (The True OG timeline is the Downfall in Gates. Deal with that information how you will. Just know that Swift will be coming to terms with both saving untold numbers of people of the absolute destruction that originally awaited them when the Heroes Spirit broke, and condemning possibly hundreds of thousands of people to witnessing the same cycle of chaos that had plagued the world since the First Hero. You know that scene in Sinbad, where Eres shows the Sand Ocean? Yeah... close shave, mate.)

I can't not acknowledge the importance of LU in how I've made and altered certain characters - I've had to completely rejigg certain ones entirely whenever I notice I'm unintentionally mimicking or running alone the same ideas as Jojo - but that goes without saying, as does the influence all the other 'Link Group Quest' fics and comics have had over the years. There are so many that I, personally, have read and liked that it'd be impossible to list them. Regardless of that, I will happily tag my fanart of other people's pretty dam awesome depictions, and my own as vastly separate entities, and will do my best to extend that curtesy to all the others making their own Mega Works.

The most enjoyable part is, thanks to the Magic Systems and Major Divine Plot Bunny that makes my AU what it is, crossovers can be whatever you or I wish it. This is our sand pit, and we all have been given our buckets!

[In other words, don't let the size and complexity of LU scare you out of making your own variations of the idea. Nor the idea that others like me have been making ours for a while, or have seen the idea before. There is no crime punishable in playing with barbie dolls, go absolutely bonkers.]

[tiddiewitch]

Second Chances - Ch. 1

Description: Agathario AU / Wagatha

Warnings: Death, miscarriage, drinking? I don't think anything else yet

Notes: So since @captain-raffi asked, I've decided to post the first chapter of the fic I've been working on. I don't really write, but for some reason this invaded my brain and I saw the whole thing like a movie and just had to get it out. It's looking like it'll be several chapters so strap in, or on ;) (eventually)

Chapter 1: 0

It wasn’t the alarm that woke Agatha that morning, but the impending sense of doom. Today was the day; her birthday. Among the usual angst of aging, unwanted recognition from friends and colleagues, and an obligatory dinner with her mother, she was particularly woeful about this milestone. She had told herself this was it. The last shot at creating the family that she and Wanda had always dreamed about. 

They met early in college when Agatha’s roommate Jen brought her home from a sorority function. The two girls had stumbled in and began cooking loudly in the kitchen, waking her. She stormed so fiercely out of her room that night the door handle created a dent in the wall behind it. She raged into the kitchen already screaming at Jen for waking her when she had an 8am exam the next day before realizing there was another person in the kitchen. Wanda popped up from behind the refrigerator door eating one of her cheese sticks. Giggling, she apologized for their disturbance and offered to replace the food she had been eating. Enraged, Agatha screeched and stormed back off to her room to have a fitful night’s sleep. After that evening, as Jen continued to bring Wanda over, she would bring a bag of cheese sticks for Agatha, every now and again, as an apology for their first interaction. 

Despite this act of kindness Agatha did her best to avoid them both whenever Wanda was over. Until one night when she and her friend Ralph brought over dinner for all of them. Wanda had managed to break down a few walls Agatha had built and even made her laugh as she poked fun at Jen. After that night Agatha began to look forward to each time Wanda would visit, ensuring she always looked her best. Half the time she would bring Ralph and the three of them would wreak havoc throughout their campus in one drunken escapade or another. Before she knew it she had fallen for this kind, bubbly, passionate, brilliant woman. She was surprised to find Wanda had similar feelings and they endeavored in a relationship that survived grad school and eventually led to marriage. 

Their life together had been one adventure after another. They bought a small cottage near Wanda’s hometown. Agatha worked downtown as a financial advisor while Wanda was either researching or off on another expedition. They thrived in their fields as they challenged each other’s success. It was blissful, happy, and full of love, yet doomed not to last.

Wanda had disappeared almost 7 years ago now, off on another one of her archeological expeditions. She was brilliant, reckless, and passionate about her studies. It’s what drew Agatha to her in the first place. They way she would babble on and on about ancient goddesses and fertility rituals whose practices were nearly lost to time if it weren’t for the work she was doing. This time, while exploring a series of caverns, her team lost contact with her. They had sent rescue teams down immediately but were unable to locate her. It was weeks of searching before they decided to call. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this Agatha…” said the voice on the other end

“SPIT IT OUT! TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!” she shouted into the receiver. Her breath heavy with tears starting to form in her eyes.

“We…we don’t know. We haven’t been able to find her body.”

“Her…body?! You don’t mean you’ve stopped looking? What are you even saying?”

“Agatha, we found her gear near a crevice. It’s too deep and tight for any of our guys to get down any further... It’s been 3 weeks. I’m so sorry.”

Wanda wasn’t even supposed to have gone on this trip. Agatha was nearly 4 months pregnant with the child they had finally decided to try for after Wanda agreed to cut back on expeditions and move into an adjunct professorship at the nearby college. Now she was faced with raising this child alone. The despair ate away at her. She had to force herself to eat for the baby. Barely able to sleep, just holding on to the last little piece of her life with Wanda. That was until her next appointment. 

She knew the moment the nurse smiled at her something was off. She had excused herself, saying she needed a second opinion from the doctor. He came in, cold and distant, looking at the screen as if he was just checking emails. He sat down on the stool, turned off the monitor and turned to face her. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this but we are unable to find a heartbeat and there is no movement. We need to schedule you for a DNC as soon as possible to avoid complications.” As if it was that matter of fact. As if she hadn’t just lost the last bit of love and hope she had. She didn’t react. She couldn’t in that moment. She just went through the motions, signed the papers and had the procedure without a tear in sight. She only collapsed in grief upon entering the threshold of their cottage. She must have spent a day at least just on the floor on the other side of the door, weeping silently as the grief passed over her in waves. 

She would have stayed there even longer had it not been for Jen busting her door in once she heard the news. Though she would likely never admit it, Jen had saved her that day. For how much they bickered and taunted each other, at the root of it was a sisterly bond they had forged at school.

It took a few years for her life to start to feel human again. For the grief to not hit her before dawn. She could look herself in the eyes again and not immediately begin to cry. Instead she saw the strength that these tragedies had built inside her. That was the first year she celebrated her birthday again. An all out bash, Ralph had invited everyone she had ever known, to let loose and have a moment of joy, if just for one night. In the end she wouldn’t have remembered much of it had it not been for him. 

Ralph had been there for the beginning of her and Wanda’s relationship. Almost like a big, gay third wheel. He would take them to all the gay bars and drag shows, in turn they would feed and house him during grad school. He could see when they would be headed for a fight and know how to diffuse the situation and how to get them to apologize to one another when he wasn’t there to calm the tensions. He was their obvious choice as a donor when they finally decided to start trying to have kids. He had been there for all the ups and downs when they were first trying to conceive. Once Agatha had gotten pregnant he accepted a series of cruise ship contracts and was away when it all fell apart. That regret was everlasting and he was constantly trying to make it up to her. 

He had helped plan and orchestrate the party, agreeing to stay; somewhat, sober to ensure things didn’t get too out of hand. He kept a watchful eye over Agatha and made sure at the end of the night she drank some water and took some medicine. He helped her to bed, tucking her in and in her drunken stupor she begged him to stay. To hold her until she slept so she didn’t have to fall asleep alone. As he held her they talked about Wanda, about the life they had planned. About the baby they almost had and he just let her weep until she drifted off. 

In the morning she had awoken to the smell of coffee and burned bacon with a splitting headache. Making her way down the hall she found Ralph in the kitchen with her apron on attempting to make pancakes. 

“Morning Birthday girl! How you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a bus”

“5 shots of tequila and whatever else you drank will do that to you. Especially at 35!”

“Eugh, don’t remind me.” 

“Can I offer you some breakfast? Perhaps a bloody mary, mimosa?”

“If I smell alcohol right now I will puke all over this table. I don’t know how I’m even alive right now.”

“How much do you remember?”

“Not a whole lot, Jen and I were singing at some point. I remember cake but I don’t remember eating cake. I definitely cried at some point but the details are fuzzy.” 

“Girl, every time I turned around you were making out with another woman. I would’ve made sure you got laid but you were too far gone by 10 for that to be a good idea.” He chuckled before falling silent, a question hovering on his lips. Finally he asked, “Do you remember our conversation last night?”

“You’ll have to enlighten me.” Her face flushed with embarrassment and nausea. 

“I’m only bringing it up now because you brought it up first last night and in the state you were in it felt like a confession to me. So here goes… are you serious about trying to have a kid again on your own?” She was stunned. Had she really admitted she wasn’t done trying? Hadn’t given up that hope? She sipped the now cold black coffee on the table in front of her and munched on a piece of bacon as she rolled the question around in her hungover head. At her age it wasn’t impossible but the chances lowered the longer she waited. If there was any chance at a piece of the life she had imagined, would it not be worth it in the end?

“I mean, I have thought about it. But it seems crazy, especially after everything.”

“You think about it. It’s a big decision, but if it’s something you’ve always wanted? You’re the only person I know crazy enough to do it and be a damn good mother. And you wouldn’t be alone. You have me for one, guncle Ralph, and you know Jen would be over the moon…eventually.” 

“Gods, Jen would kill me for sure! The last thing she wants is to pull me out of another pit of despair.” She sat with the thought imagining the life she really wanted now. “I don’t see myself getting into another relationship… but I’ve always known I wanted children” she said with a misty smile.

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive, Agatha. There is still time, I’m here either way. At least for the next couple of months before Magic of the Seas sets sail.”

She contemplated the offer over the next month and in the end decided she deserved to find this happiness if at all possible. Over the next few years, whenever he was in town, they would plan a night - go have dinner, sing karaoke, catch a drag show that, half the time, Ralph was hosting and afterward they would go back to her place. She’d watch a movie while he jerked it in the guest bathroom and then he’d leave her to manage the rest on her own. 

It was definitely different than when she and Wanda had tried. She remembered the effort she had gone through to ensure the day was perfect. Doting on Agatha, bringing her breakfast in bed. They spent the day outside, went to a concert, and had a romantic dinner out. They returned home as Ralph left, and spent most of the night locked in an intimate embrace. All these efforts proved fruitful and they quickly became pregnant. 

Though she tried, she couldn’t quite recreate Wanda’s magic. She was too aware of the emptiness surrounding her. It made the endeavor too practical and clinical. She was not as lucky this go around either. The first year she made 4 attempts, none of them successful. The following year the stars aligned and she was able to successfully conceive. This however was short lived as she didn’t make it past the first trimester. Devastated, she took a step back and didn’t try again the rest of that year. Then this last year she made 6 unsuccessful attempts. Each time she saw the negative result her stomach dropped and heart ached. By the end she resigned herself to one final shot - her birthday. 

Somehow all the stars aligned. The day landed within her fertile window, Ralph was able to come into town the day before, there was even a full blood moon! She knew Wanda would look to that as an affirmation from the universe that this was the time.  

https://www.tumblr.com/tiddiewitch/776932052760182784/second-chances?source=share (to chapter 2 pt. 1)

[bluecatwriter]

The kiss ficlets continue! Copied from an ask that had multiple submissions:

Your wish is my command! :) I decided to make it a post-canon fic featuring my ongoing desire to ship Jack/Mina/Jonathan.

(Send me a ship and a number and I'll write a kiss.)

(All kiss ficlets here)

A kiss... to gain something

Jack had been bustling around his small townhouse all day long, trying to make it look more presentable and less like the bachelor pad it was— and was rewarded when the Harkers arrived from Exeter, and Mina exclaimed with genuine delight, "Oh John, I love what you've done here!" It had been a rather bare apartment when he'd first moved in a month ago upon quitting his job at the asylum, but the Harkers visiting had given him ample motivation to make the whole house (and especially the bedroom) presentable.

After her compliment, Mina had greeted him with a quick kiss that have nevertheless left his legs wobbling, while Jonathan, as usual, stayed pleasant and a bit aloof. There was conversation to be had before bed, and Jack had made tea and bought some biscuits and laid them out in front of the hearth. He and Mina sat next to each other on the settee while Jonathan sat in the chair by the fire, and soon Jack and Mina fell into the animated conversation that had long marked their friendship. Soon she had him babbling about the ins and outs of his new job at the local hospital, which led naturally to the event that most excited him.

"I've been invited tomorrow to a luncheon, at which a very distinguished professor from Germany, Dr. Flechsig, will be presenting his latest findings in categorizing the cytoarchitecture of the human brain."

Mina tilted her head to the side, her eyes lighting up. "Cytoarchitecture… that's the study of cellular composition?"

"Of the central nervous system's tissues, yes. Forgive my jargon. Dr. Flechsig has been making amazing advancements in our understanding of the brain, and—"

Mina clapped her hands together, startling him. "Oh John, you must allow me to come along!" 

Jack paused mid-sentence, his train of thought derailed. "With me? I…" He shook his head to clear it. "I'm sorry, Mina, but this is a very exclusive lecture. It wouldn't do for me to bring an unexpected guest."

"We wouldn't make a scene. I would sit in a corner and not say a word. I could even transcribe the lecture so that you could refer to my notes later."

Jack balked at this, since she did make a good point. Still… "I apologize, but I simply can't. I am still fairly new to this circle of colleagues and it is enough of a stretch for them to invite me in the first place." 

Mina was staring at him with those big golden-brown eyes now; she had always had such a talent for looking appealing. But the mental image of him showing up to a lecture with an unexpected woman in tow was enough to make him shore up his strength; his will could be greater than hers, he told himself. 

"I'll be sure to tell you everything that I learn," he said, trying to soften the blow of the rejection, but now his voice wavered, because she had not relented in gazing at him.

"Please, John," she said, her voice now softer. "As a personal favor?"

He was suddenly and keenly aware of all the blood in his body. He cleared his throat. "I can't just bring…" His voice failed him when she leaned toward him, and he jerked his head to face forward, trying to ignore her nose brushing against his jaw. As if searching for a lifeline, he looked over at Jonathan, but Jonathan had picked up a scientific periodical lying on the end table and was leaned back in the chair, reading it studiously as if Jack and Mina were not in the room at all. Jack huffed and closed his eyes, wondering why he had even thought to look to Jonathan for help with saying no to Mina. 

"Mrs. Harker, I know what you are doing, and it will not work," he told her, trying to put all the firmness into his voice that he could muster, but despite this, his voice slightly trembled as he felt her lips mouthing softly along his ear. 

"And I," she said with a smile in her voice, right into his ear, "am politely asking you to reconsider." He felt her tongue trace the shell of his ear, followed by a soft kiss.

"Mina," he meant to say in a stern voice, but it came out as a whimper. She touched his chin and turned him to face her, their mouths teasingly close— all he would have to do was move his head forward an inch— but this would be conceding, and he— he— what was he so worried about? He couldn't remember.

He kissed her, and she kissed him back, pressing him down into the settee and giving his mouth lavish attention with her tongue. When at last she pulled away, he gasped for air, every nerve in his body tingling with pleasure.

"So I'll go with you tomorrow, then?" Mina asked, smiling prettily.

Jack groaned, but felt too wobbly to sit up or even speak. Instead, he just half-nodded, making a vague sound of assent. 

Mina grinned, and Jack heard a chortling noise from Jonathan. But when he glanced over, Jonathan was still reading the scientific periodical, with only the tiniest smirk on his lips.

~~~

[itsnesss]

Hello, I have a request if it's ok with you 🙌🏻 I would like you to write a sensei wolf x reader fic, I don't have details but the moment where he fights Johnny and he has to be on his knees to wait to continue the fight, it doesn't leave my mind 👁️👄👁️ ​​so, could you write something with that? (smut obviously) And thank youuuu ❤️

𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | sensei wolf × fem!reader

summary | during an intense training session, the tension between you and wolf reaches its peak. challenging him with an unexpected move, you manage to bring him to his knees, showcasing your power and control, while he, surprised, begins to see in you a strength he didn’t anticipate

warnings | smut, explicit content, power dynamics, sub!wolf, dom!reader, intense physicality, fingering, oral (reader!receives)

word count | 1.1 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

You were in the dojo, as always, training hard, but this time something was different. The tension in the air was palpable. The training had ended, and you could still feel their eyes on you, watching every movement, every breath.

"You're getting better," said Wolf, his voice deep and authoritative, though there was something else in it this time. Something that made you feel as if you were under his control.

You turned around to pick up your backpack, but immediately felt his hand on your shoulder, stopping you. His touch was firm, almost like a silent command. "Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked, with a defiant smile on your face, without turning to confront him.

"Because you intrigue me," he replied, and your heart skipped a beat.

You turned slowly to face him, and the proximity between you became clearer. You could feel his heat, his strength, his power. Your heart was pounding, but you remained calm, challenging him with your eyes.

"Would you dare to put into practice what I've taught you?" he asked, as if it were a joke, but you knew it wasn't.

A moment of silence, and then you approached him, step by step. You could see the uncertainty in his gaze, the internal struggle. Finally, you stopped in front of him, almost brushing his chest with yours.

"Yes, I would dare," you said with a playful smile, and before he could react, you pushed him back with all your strength. I didn't expect you, I wasn't prepared for that move. He almost lost his balance, but you stood firm. The power was on your side, and you knew it.

A glimmer of surprise crossed his eyes, followed by something else. Something that overflowed with authority and desire.

At that moment, without thinking any further, you advanced quickly, making him fall to his knees before you. The sound of his knees hitting the ground echoed in the dojo, but it was not a sound of defeat, but of acceptance.

You looked at him with a triumphant smile, enjoying the feeling of having him at your feet. But, in his gaze, there was a spark of respect, of admiration.

"Stay there," you took his chin while ordering him to remain kneeling before you. You moved closer, brushing your fingers against his lips. "Don't move."

And with that, you started to undress. First it was your belt, which you tossed aside. Then it was your pants, which slid down your legs until your feet kicked them off.

Wolf had seen your body before. Many times. But it wasn't her gaze that mattered. It was the power and authority in your gaze.

Wolf seemed to not care, but you knew he was excited. You could see it in his eyes. In the way he breathed.

"Strip," you ordered, without taking your eyes off him, but Wolf seemed to hesitate. "Strip now," you repeated, a little louder.

And he took off his shirt, then his pants. His body was strong, muscular. He didn't need to tell you he was ready.

"That's it," you said, with a smile. "Now, let's see if you can please me."

And you pulled down your panties, showing it to him. You could feel the cold air against your skin. You couldn't wait any longer. You felt it, you needed it, you desired it.

You took his hand and brought it to your panties. "Touch me," you whispered. And he did, without a moment's hesitation. His touch was firm, strong, as if you were his.

Involuntarily, your hips moved back and forth, seeking more. And Wolf began to slide his fingers in slowly. You could feel his pulse throbbing in your panties.

"You're so wet," he said, with a little smile.

"Why do you think I came?" you asked mischievously. Wolf smiled, as if everything that was happening was amusing to him. As if it didn't matter.

But you knew it did matter.

The touch of his fingers inside you was exquisite. You couldn't help but move your hips to seek more. But just when you were about to reach climax, Wolf stopped abruptly.

"No," you scolded him. "Don't stop, don't stop."

Wolf seemed amused. "No, no," you said, and you started moving your hips back and forth. "I want more."

And he gave you more, he started pushing his fingers into you harder. You could feel them moving inside you, you can feel his fingers squeezing your inner walls, you can feel yourself about to reach climax.

And you reached the climax. With a loud scream, your body trembled in an intense orgasm that shook your entire body. Wolf seemed to enjoy it, smiling as if he had won the jackpot.

When you regained your composure, you approached him. You took him by the neck and looked him in the eyes. "That was very good," you whispered, smiling, and I began to kiss your lips.

With that, Wolf seemed to lose all control. He lifted one of your legs, placing it on his shoulder, without moving from where he was kneeling, on his knees before you.

Then, he took your other thigh and placed it over his other shoulder. Now, you were completely exposed to him, at his disposal. Your body trembled with excitement.

Wolf took a second, looking at you with a lustful expression on his face. Then, he buried his head between your thighs, diving into your pussy with his tongue.

You moaned loudly when he did it. His touch on your skin was electric, like a lightning bolt coursing through your muscles. He moved with fury, kissing your pussy and clitoris. His lips moved slowly over you, as if savoring something delicious.

You could feel the drops of sweat sliding down your body. Your muscles were tense. Every part of you was asking for more.

And Wolf gave you more. Kissing your clitoris hard, increasing the pressure, increasing the speed. And just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you reached orgasm. With a scream that echoed throughout the dojo, you collapsed into his arms.

Wolf didn't stop, he kept kissing you, savoring your drops of pleasure. He continued with his mouth between your thighs until you were sure he had collected every drop of your sex. Then he pulled away from you, with a satisfied smile, as if he had done something important.

And so it was. He had done it. He had given you what you wanted and had taken what he wanted too.

When you recovered, you got down from his shoulders. You looked at him with a mischievous smile and said, "Thank you." And that was it. You don't need more. Wolf got up from his knees, leaping with a strange glint in his eyes. You knew that the control you had over him had not gone unnoticed.

That you had liked having him at your feet, on his knees before you.

[nausikaaa]

Stats Saturday (and Six Sentence Sunday)

hello! i'm kicking things off a day early because i cannot contain my excitement, I JUST BROKE 100K WORDS!!

i know to some writers this won't seem like a lot, i've certainly read many fics over 100K, but to me this is massive. a huge milestone. i keep whispering "one hundred thousand" to myself and grinning like an idiot. and the novel is about... halfway written, so far? hahah. i'm afraid.

so yeah, i'm posting early to share the excitement! today i offer more Helenus POV, a flashback in fact! here's his first meeting with Apollo, which is... well it's not great. Helenus is fourteen, for a start, and not too long ago Apollo cursed his twin sister Cassandra for refusing his advances, so he knows he can't exactly say no without suffering a similar fate. it's not too graphic a scene, all of this book will be strictly fade-to-black, but i'll put it under a cut all the same in case it's triggering to anyone.

psst- there are also lambs under the cut, feel free to scroll past the snippet if you're just here for them!

I learned from Cassandra's mistakes. I did not flinch or object as Apollo put his hands on me. His mouth was hot, his tongue insistant, but I went boneless in his arms. I wanted my mind to wander, to go somewhere else, but I could not. I was intimately aware of every sensation, his hands trailing paths of fire down my spine, bunched in my hair, slipping beneath my tunic. How any hands did he have? I felt overwhelmed, like I was about to tip over some vast precipice, but I dared not pull away.

i really try to make every character i write understandable on some level, but also not perfect. they are all flawed and complicated, because people are like that. even the gods, as reflections of humans, have their flaws.

so, for all Helenus is really put through the wringer in this novel, he's not without sin. he knows Apollo hurt Cassandra, but he still falls in love with him anyway and she rightly feels extremely betrayed. he later fucks over Andromache almost unforgivably because Apollo tells him to.

was he groomed? yeah. but did he also benefit massively for a while at the expense of others from being a god's favourite? absolutely. and he will ultimately have to make peace with the decisions he made and the ones that were made for him.

meanwhile Apollo is incredibly shady and abusive, but also, i hope, understandable. he's a god, what do a few years difference matter to him? yes, he manipulates Helenus, but he knows that it's to eventually get him in a good position. he does a hell of a lot better than most Trojan men. nobody can deny that Apollo saves his life multiple times.

and he's not just setting Helenus up, he's setting up an entire dynasty, Helenus' descendants include Alexander the Great and Pyrrhus of Epirus, who gave us the term "pyrrhic victory" today. as the god of prophecy and drinking buddy of the Fates, it's not only his job but his cosmic purpose to make sure the pieces fall into place, and he figures soft power is better than simply ordering Helenus about.

also! two more lambs have been born! their mama is black, their dad is white, and they... are one of each! as always, you can see more of them over on my instagram.

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