Deal With the Devil [Kiie x Lockdown]

[Lockdown]

@Kiie
╔ —————————————————————————————— ╗

╚ —————————————————————————————— ╝
August Leonard
“All the good boys go to heaven but the bad boys bring heaven to you”
​

The music boomed and stole the center stage and silenced any attempts of normal conversation. A rich kaleidoscope of warm and cool colors clashed while vying for dominion of the dance floor. The atmosphere so alive and full of enthusiastic bliss for the present moment. The morals were loose enough to make a seasoned succubus slut blush. The liquor was cheap and the smoke of cigars thick. The restlessness within the club approached hysteria.

Off to the side in a private booth sat a gentleman in all black with a tinge of crimson in his eyes. A sexy succubus held onto his arm and pressed against him as if he was the only man left in the world. Opposite to him was a human and set of gargoyle-like demons sitting on either side of him. The mortal tried to loosen his collar and patted the sweat off of his brow with a napkin. “M-M-Mr. Leonard…I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” the man swore profusely.

“You lied, Richard. You know what happens when someone lies to me, no?” August said with a venomous tone and a merciless glare. Richard gulped. “No matter the era you humans come to me for all the same reasons. Willing to sacrifice anything for my power to satisfy your obnoxious desires,” he growled in annoyance while his irises flashed hot crimson, “But this will be the last time you fuck up, Richard,” he said with a undertone of finality.

“Yes! I-it won’t happen again-I promise!” the human reassured. August pulled away from the lady to her dismay and stepped forward. His leather gloves grabbed onto both sides of the man’s head. “Oh I know it won’t. You humans always bite off more than you can chew.” With one swift motion he pried open the human’s jaw until the top of his head snapped right off. August then took back his gift now that the contract bearer no longer resided within the mortal realm. The demon wiped his gloves off with the former mortal’s white button up before gesturing to the two demons, “Clean this up.”

August then turned back to the succubus in the red dress. He extended his hand for hers to take, “Shall we?” he inquired with a cocksure smirk before she took his hand with an eager smile. The two brushed passed the curtain and walked to the dance floor. Then suddenly a hand fell on his shoulder, “August Leonard,” the tone of voice rung a bell which prompted an eye roll. The demon sighed while turning to the interruption, “Micheal Korvac. To whom do I owe the pleasure?” he sarcastically greeted the angel.

“You have your warrant for arrest to thank. You’re coming with me,” the angel said in a stern tone. August scoffed, “No I’m not,” he replied with an even firmer tone. Micheal pulled out a holy knife which prompted the succubus to act aggressive and bare her fangs and claws at the angel. August grabbed her hand and chin to bring her attention back to him, “No, darling. He’s after me. Not you.” he said. The demon gave a light peck on her lips before gesturing with his head for her to go, “Go, I’ll handle this.”

With some hesitancy she did as he asked and held onto his hand for as long as she could until the length between them outmeasured the length of their accumulative reach. August took off his leather gloves. His claws extended and his pupils were enveloped with a midnight black leaving his crimson irises to remain the only color left in his eyes, “Now…where were we?” he said before the two were at each other’s throats.

—=—=—​

August clutched onto his punctured side and limped along the residential homes. A trail of blood followed him along the street as if a painter dragged their brush full of red paint along an empty canvas. “Damnit, heh. I can’t even heal,” he spoke aloud of his misfortune. The cut on his forehead no longer gushed but the dry blood made it hurt to blink his right eye. Then he heard something nearby, “No, I won’t die without a fight,” he thought before imagining to shapeshift into his namesake. A mighty lion. But his magic was so depleted he instead shifted into a tiny black house cat.

In his new form he collapsed having used his remaining strength to transform. Still he wouldn’t die quietly, He roared meowed loudly at the incoming assailant. He tried to sound strong but instead he sounded like a distressed cat in pain. Then he finally fell unconscious.

When he awoke he felt a soft cushion beneath him. His wounds didn’t hurt as badly and he didn’t know where the hell he was. His magic was still so low from the fight with Micheal. So he was temporarily stuck in this form. For now he scanned his surroundings to get a better idea on where he was. He chirped a meow to see if anything would happen.

 

[Kiie]

˚✩
☪ . ˚
┊
-ˋˏ ༻♡༺ ˎˊ-
°.✩┈┈∘*┈┈*∘┈┈✩.°​

The rhythmic tap of her cane against the pavement was a familiar comfort, a steady beat that accompanied the soft hum vibrating in Vyra's throat. The leopard-print sunglasses, a gift from her ever-enthusiastic friend, perched on her nose, a bold statement against the world she couldn't see--putting that aside, a chuckle escaped her lips as she recalled their earlier interaction, the memory of the vet clinic vivid in her mind. Her friend, a whirlwind of energy and compassion, had insisted Vyra spend the day with her at the vet that her friend owned.

The image of the timid dog, its fur soft and warm beneath her fingertips, returned to her. She remembered the gentle guidance of her friend's hand, placing hers on the animal's flank. Then, the subtle shift, the almost imperceptible misalignment that her fingers detected.

"Our little patient needed some push" she had murmured, her intuition guiding her.

CRACK!!

The crack, sharp and decisive, had startled her friend as she gasped in terror but then it was followed by the joyous, grateful barks of the now-agile dog. It was a moment of connection, a solid proof to the heightened senses that filled the void of sight./

"Vyra! How did you know that?" her friend had asked, her voice filled with awe as she pet the dog.

"I could feel it... from the tip of my fingers" she'd replied, a simple explanation for a gift she didn't fully understand herself.

The memory faded as a new sound pierced the air, a faint, distressed mewl, a fragile cry that tugged at her heartstrings. Her cane, usually a tool of navigation, now became an instrument of discovery, its tip tracing the contours of the unseen world. She followed the sound, her senses sharpening, the air thick with the subtle scent of pain.
The soft resistance of fur against the tip of her cane confirmed her suspicions, a small, form huddled against the cold, hard ground. She crouched, her hand extending, not with the probing touch of a doctor, but with the gentle reassurance of a friend. Her fingers moved, tracing the delicate curve of the kitten's spine, the fragile bones beneath the soft fur.

She could feel the rapid, shallow breaths, the frantic pulse of a tiny heart fighting for survival. The air was heavy with the metallic tang of blood, a moment of the kitten's suffering. She paused, her fingertips hovering just above the raw, pulsing wound, where the pain resonated most intensely, a focal point of agony in the small, broken body. She felt the warmth of the blood, still fresh, still flowing, and the subtle tremors that rippled through the kitten's frame, a testament to its desperate struggle. She could feel the matted fur, damp and sticky, the texture a stark contrast to the soft, fluffy coat that should have been there. She felt the small, ragged breaths, each one a struggle, each one was the kitten's will to live. The rapid, weakening pulse throbbed against her palm, a desperate plea for life.

With a delicate urgency, she scooped the kitten into her arms, the tiny body was weak against her. The familiar path to her friend's clinic was etched into her memory, and she moved with practiced efficiency and the moment she arrived there, her friend was quick to greet Vyra, confused as she thought that Vyra should head home already but upon seeing the injured kitten in her arms, she didn't waste anymore time and quickly let Vyra inside.

Time stretched, a silent, patient observer in the sterile, antiseptic-tinged air of the vet clinic. Vyra sat, a quiet sentinel, her senses attuned to the subtle symphony of the space. She heard the gentle rustle of her friend's movements, the soft click of instruments, the quiet murmur of reassurance directed at the tiny patient. The air vibrated with a focused energy, a shared purpose in the act of healing.

She waited, not with impatience, but with a serene acceptance. The rhythm of her own breath, the steady beat of her heart, became a counterpoint to the sounds of the clinic, a grounding presence in the midst of the activity. She felt the warmth of the room, the subtle shifts in temperature as her friend moved, the faint vibrations of the table where the kitten lay. Finally, the sounds subsided, the air settling into a quiet stillness. The work was done. A soft sigh, a gentle pat, and then the approach of her friend, her footsteps light and quick.

"Vyra... for tonight, just sleep here, use my room upstairs... you know the way" her friend said, the words laced with a gentle insistence. She shrugged into her coat, a quick, practical movement, then turned back to Vyra, her gaze lingering.

"I'll be back in the morning. You know your way around, right?"
A simple nod was Vyra's response, a silent acknowledgment of the familiar space. With a final, reassuring glance, her friend departed, the click of the lock echoing through the quiet clinic.

A sigh escaped Vyra's lips, a soft exhale of mingled concern and acceptance. She felt a pang of unease at the thought of occupying her friend's personal space, the sanctuary above the clinic. But her friend's tone had left no room for argument, a firm kindness that Vyra understood. It was late, the city's pulse slowing to a nocturnal hum, and her friend's concern for her safety was a tangible warmth in the cool air. Vyra knew her friend was eager to return to her husband, not wanting to make him worry.

Releasing the constraints of her low bun, Vyra let her hair tumble down her back, a silken cascade against her skin. The gesture was a small act of relaxation, a shedding of the day's tension. As she turned towards the stairs, the familiar path leading to her friend's room, a soft, plaintive meow caught her attention. Instinctively, she changed direction, her movements fluid and precise, guided by the sound.
She paused at the doorway of the small recovery room, her head tilting slightly as she listened.

╭┈ .★ˋ .*ೃ✧₊ ˚ ༘♡══════════════════════════════╗​

╰➢ ꒥꒷꒥꒷꒷꒷꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒷꒷꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒥꒷꒥꒷꒷꒷꒷꒥꒷꒥꒥꒷꒷·₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ══ .★.╝​

"Why hello, little monster... "
​

"you woke up pretty quick from your nap"
Vyra murmured, her voice a soft caress in the quiet room. The tap of her cane guided her towards the kitten's small form, her movements deliberate and cautious. She extended her hand, hovering just above the kitten, until her fingertips brushed against the delicate tip of its snout. Vyra paused then gently, with the lightest of touches, she used her forefinger to stroke the top of its head. The soft fur, still slightly damp from the earlier treatment, felt warm beneath her touch.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, her voice a gentle question in the stillness. She paused, listening, waiting for the kitten's response, anticipating the soft, reassuring sound of a meow.

°.✩┈┈∘*┈┈*∘┈┈✩.°
-ˋˏ ༻♡༺ ˎˊ-
┊
☪ . ˚
˚✩​

 

[Lockdown]

╔ —————————————————————————————— ╗

╚ —————————————————————————————— ╝
August Leonard
"All the good boys go to heaven but the bad boys bring heaven to you"
​

Pensive eyes darted around the vacant space. He was alone in a vet clinic room. So how did he arrive there? He sought out an answer by calling to see if anyone would answer. The void of silence felt like a comforting blanket. Until he heard the tapping. He froze as the hallway echoed an ominous sound and stripped him of the comfort of isolation. The fur on his back rose as soon as he heard the tapping getting louder. He shakily rose to his four legs. Hyper focused optics stared at the doorway. Ears shifted to get a better idea of how many more vital seconds he had before the impending arrival of whomever answered his call.

“I’ll pounce when they least expect it and bathe in their blood to regain my strength,” he reassured himself as if he wasn’t bandaged up and no heavier than ten pounds soaking wet.

His anxiousness was disarmed the moment he saw Vyra step into view. Her leopard-print sunglasses and cane were a far cry to the appearance he had assumed. He couldn’t take her seriously with those glasses. Her attire also mismatched that of a veterinarian so her role here was still a mystery. Then she spoke. It was as if she were a siren whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Especially with the pet-name. August’s sharp slits for pupils softened and his claws retracted. His tail became more fluid instead of rigidly standing at attention to make himself appear larger. He sat down while she traversed past the threshold.

The human extended her hand. At first hesitant, but eventually August closed the distance and allowed her to pet his snout before she moved onto his head, “What’s your game here, human?” he thought before softly purring as she scratched a sensitive spot behind his ears he didn’t even know he had.

He opened his eyes at the mention of food. An enthusiastic meow escaped his lips. August then stared at her for a few moments as if calculating. He crouched and shimmied his hips before suddenly jumping onto her shoulder. His eyes shut and his head recoiled as he winced from the pain. But yet he found balance on her shoulder and comfort. August meowed once again as if to mush the human forward to the food she proposed. “Hm…you’re a peculiar one,” he thought as he couldn’t quite pin anything nefarious on her yet. His tail curved around the back of her neck as she walked.

—=—​

August licked his lips clean of the meal she provided. In his desperate state it tasted like fine cuisine. He refreshed his parched lips with water before looking at his surroundings. His eyes narrowed as if trying to spot for a clue. He meandered a bit until bumping into Vyra. He watched what she was doing with an intense stare. Her obliviousness to his presence allowed him to see her in her natural state.

After watching her for a bit he squeaked another meow having gotten a slightly better understanding on who she was as a person. He sauntered with a slight limp to her legs and brushed along the bottom of her calves. A low hum emanated from him as if vying for her attention. He wished to test something with her.

—*—​

 

[Kiie]

˚✩
☪ . ˚
┊
-ˋˏ ༻♡༺ ˎˊ-
°.✩┈┈∘*┈┈*∘┈┈✩.°
╭┈ .★ˋ .*ೃ✧₊ ˚ ༘♡════════════════════════════╗

╰➢ ꒥꒷꒥꒷꒷꒷꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒷꒷꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒥꒷꒥꒷꒷꒷꒷꒥꒷꒥꒥꒷꒷·₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ══ .★.╝​

​

𝒱𝓎𝓇𝒶 𝒜𝒶𝓇𝓎𝓁𝒾𝓃
꧁༺ "To heal is to touch with love." ༻꧂

A soft smile bloomed on Vyra's lips, a silent acknowledgment of the gentle vibration resonating from the kitten. The purr, a low, rumbling thrum, filled her ears like a soothing lullaby, a melody of contentment. There was something about felines, a quiet grace, a subtle warmth, that had always resonated with her soul. This cat that she found, like so many others before it, had found a soft spot in her heart. A gentle hum escaped her lips, a soft counterpoint to the kitten's purring, a shared moment of peace. The warmth emanating from the small, furry body filled her with relief, a tangible sign of its survival. She was grateful for her friend's skill, for the ability to mend what was broken, even beyond the constraints of normal hours.

Her smile widened as a sharp, excited meow pierced the air. Then, she felt the subtle shift of the kitten's movement, the crouch that preceded a leap. A startled gasp escaped her lips as the kitten launched itself onto her shoulder, the unexpected movement sending a jolt through her body. She felt the delicate pressure of its paws, the slight tension as it sought balance, a faint tremor of pain mingling with its eagerness. The enthusiastic meow, a triumphant declaration, drowned out the subtle hint of discomfort. She chuckled softly, amused by the kitten's unexpected agility and its apparent understanding of the word "food." but she was also worried about its wounds.

Abandoning her cane against the wall, a familiar support in the clinic's well-mapped terrain, Vyra moved with practiced confidence towards the storage area. Her fingers traced the familiar surfaces, the cool metal of the shelves, the smooth plastic of the containers, each touch a confirmation of her mental map. Soon, her fingers closed around the cold metal of a food bowl, and then the familiar crinkle of wet cat food.

"You shouldn't make such drastic moves like earlier... you need to recover" she gently scolded the kitten, knowing it wouldn't understand, but feeling the need to vocalize her concern.

She placed the bowl on the table, the gentle clink of metal against metal a soft sound in the quiet room, and then carefully lifted the cat from her shoulder, placing it beside the bowl. The sound of the cat eating quickly filled the room, a rhythmic soft lapping, a comforting melody of satisfied hunger. While the kitten ate, Vyra filled a small water bowl, placing it nearby.
While the cat finished its meal, Vyra folded the clean towels left on a nearby chair, her fingers moving with practiced efficiency. Her ears remained alert, listening for the subtle sounds of the cat's movements. The soft rustle of fabric, the gentle thud of folded towels, filled the quiet space. She neatly stacked the towels before turning, waiting for a meow.

Instead, she felt a strange sensation, a shift in the air, the feeling of being watched. The cat brushed against her leg, but there was a different quality to its presence, an almost palpable sense of observation. A flicker of unease brushed against her, but she dismissed it, attributing it to the quiet solitude of the clinic.Then, a soft meow, a gentle reassurance, broke through the stillness. A smile bloomed on her face, a wave of relief washing over her.

"There you are, little monster..." she murmured, her voice filled with delight. She crouched down, extending her hands towards the kitten.

"Do you want to sleep together with me tonight?" She asked, her voice soft and inviting, her hands outstretched, waiting for the kitten to come to her. Then, she tilted her head slightly, a familiar gesture, a subtle adjustment to sharpen her hearing, to catch the faintest of sounds.

"We should give you a name..." she murmured, her voice thoughtful, a gentle cadence in the quiet room.

"Considering that I found you without a collar, I assume you have no owner."
​

°.✩┈┈∘*┈┈*∘┈┈✩.°
-ˋˏ ༻♡༺ ˎˊ-
┊
☪ . ˚
˚✩

​

 

[Lockdown]

╔ —————————————————————————————— ╗

╚ —————————————————————————————— ╝
August Leonard
"All the good boys go to heaven but the bad boys bring heaven to you"

​

His attentive stare studied Vyra. The way she neatly folded the towels informed him of her refined manners regardless of her limitations. Besides that he didn’t really have much else to go off on. He glanced at the nearby pictures and didn’t see her in any. He assumed someone who could not see wouldn’t really need photos in the first place, but yet she had them in this space and none were with her in it.

The feline’s gaze fell back to the blind woman. His ears twitched when she seemed to have noticed his observation. His ebony bristled tail swayed with intrigue, “Oh? You know I’m watching?” he thought in an amused manner. “I like this one,” he concluded with a slight smirk wondering who this mystery girl was and how she knew.

He would strike first to nullify all suspicion by meowing and rubbing along her legs. Vyra expressed a bit of relief to find him and crouched to reach for him. Her arms extending out into oblivion, from her eyes’ perspective, hoping to find him. A soft purr escaped his lips as he perfectly aligned her trajectory with him until she petted his fur. A scoff which could’ve been mistaken as a sneeze brushed past his nostrils, “Little monster…if you only knew,” he thought as if she was jesting purposefully.

Then Vyra suggested he accompany her to rest within the bedroom chambers. His eyes widened before meowing enthusiastically at the idea. But first, she proposed having him adopt a name when she assumed he didn’t already have one. Large bright eyes looked up at the human as the thought of learning her name enticed him more than her conjuring one up for him. Still he played along. He left the warm embrace of her touch leaving only his faint footsteps to track where he was.

Suddenly a kid’s toy in the corner of the room went off as if an aberration suddenly possessed the trinket, “The Lion goes ROOAAAAR!”. He glanced back and meowed before blinking innocently. Did he maybe out himself as being able to understand her? Maybe. But it’s not like anyone would believe her. Not if he acted normal to anyone else. Besides it could be chalked up to coincidence if he plays his cards right.

—=—​

Later when Vyra had brought August to bed. He pranced along the soft mattress searching for the perfect spot. He found one to his liking which was just barely within arms reach of Vyra. He spun a handful of times and curled up into a ball before laying down. His eyes were wide open and stared directly at the blind woman. As if stalking his prey and waiting for her most vulnerable moment. Still. He was patient and so closed his eyes and waited.

It took some time but eventually she did fall asleep. He waited even longer until he heard her take deep breaths. His feline eyes pried open. Very slowly he rose up from his position. His body crouched close to the covers as he carefully planted each paw when crawling towards her. Eventually he was on top of her. His piercing gaze looming over her. “Let’s see who we’re dealing with here,” he thought before his eyes turned completely crimson.

When he ‘awoke’ he had traversed from the living realm and into Vyra’s own dreamscape. Dreams were a window to someone’s integral character and thoughts. Sometimes strange, but yet a meaning hid within the dreams one has. He would find out who she truly was beneath those leopard-print glasses.

—*—​

 

[Kiie]

˚✩
☪ . ˚
┊
-ˋˏ ༻♡༺ ˎˊ-
°.✩┈┈∘*┈┈*∘┈┈✩.°
╭┈ .★ˋ .*ೃ✧₊ ˚ ༘♡════════════════════════════╗

╰➢ ꒥꒷꒥꒷꒷꒷꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒷꒷꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒥꒷꒥꒷꒷꒷꒷꒥꒷꒥꒥꒷꒷·₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ══ .★.╝​

​

𝒱𝓎𝓇𝒶 𝒜𝒶𝓇𝓎𝓁𝒾𝓃

꧁༺ "To heal is to touch with love." ༻꧂​

​

​

Her eyelids fluttered as her hands made contact with the soft fur, a gentle warmth spreading through her fingertips. A soft smile remained etched on her lips, a silent expression of contentment, before a light chuckle escaped her lips at the cat's sudden, tiny sneeze. Vyra had long since learned to navigate the world without sight, her senses honed to a keen awareness of the unseen. At the age of five, a tragic accident had stolen her vision, along with the lives of her parents. Her last memories were a blur of fragmented sounds and sensations, the echoes of voices fading into an eternal silence. The faces of her parents, once vibrant and familiar, now resided in the hazy realm of distant memory, a collection of fleeting impressions.

The sudden absence of the kitten's warmth snapped her out of her reverie, bringing her back to the present moment. She tilted her head, her ears straining to catch the faintest sound. Then, a playful rattle, the distinct sound of a toy, reached her ears, followed by an adorable meow. It was a peculiar sequence, a series of auditory clues that seemed to form a fragmented message. It felt as though the cat was offering her pieces of a puzzle, inviting her to decipher its meaning. A subtle introduction, a silent unveiling of its truth, without revealing a deeper secret. It was a feeling, an instinct, a whisper of intuition.

She scooped the kitten into her arms, the small body warm and comforting against her skin. With practiced ease, she carried it upstairs, the familiar layout of her friend's room guiding her steps. Gently, she placed the kitten on the bed, allowing it to explore its new surroundings. She waited patiently, her senses alert, until the kitten settled into a comfortable spot. Then, she carefully lay down beside it, spreading her arm to ensure she didn't accidentally disturb the small creature.

A faint prickling sensation, the feeling of an intense gaze, touched her skin, but it quickly faded, leaving only the quiet stillness of the room.

"It's nice knowing you, Leo," she murmured, the name rolling off her tongue with a sense of natural ease. The playful rattle of the toy earlier, the subtle hint of a lion's roar in its playful meow, had suggested the name. She removed her sunglasses, the world of darkness deepening, and within moments, she drifted into the peaceful embrace of sleep.​

°.✩┈┈∘*┈┈*∘┈┈✩.°.★ˋ .*ೃ✧₊ ˚ ༘°.✩┈┈∘*┈┈*∘┈┈✩.°​

Her dreamscape unfolded, a vast, starlit meadow stretching into an infinite expanse. Vyra stood at its heart, a solitary figure amidst the celestial panorama. The sky, a view of deepest night, was exquisitely adorned with constellations, each star a luminous point forming the shapes of fantastical animals. They moved with a lively energy, leaping, flying, and circling around her, their ethereal glow pulsing with an ever-changing brightness as they touched the meadow's soft ground.


Upon Vyra's back, a striking contrast unfolded: a pair of wings, one golden, the other fractured and broken. The golden wing, radiating a warm, celestial light the pure spirit that resided within her without her being aware of its presence, a hidden wellspring of resilience. The broken wing, a stark reminder of fragility, housed a dormant presence, an evil spirit. However, its presence was not one of menace, but of a quiet, subdued energy.


Vyra's hand moved with delicate tenderness, gently caressing the broken wing, her touch a silent balm to its wounds. Meanwhile, the golden wing seemed to enfold both Vyra and the fractured wing, a protective embrace, a visual of the harmonious balance within her soul. It was as if the golden wing whispered a message: that the gentle compassion, the unwavering tenderness, were the forces that had pacified the evil spirit, allowing it to find a peaceful sanctuary within her. It rested deep within her being, never to awaken in the waking world, content in the embrace of the mercy and love bestowed upon it by both the pure spirit and the human vessel. She possessed a hidden, potent energy, a source of revitalization for any beings.
​

​

°.✩┈┈∘*┈┈*∘┈┈✩.°
-ˋˏ ༻♡༺ ˎˊ-
┊
☪ . ˚
˚✩​

 

[Lockdown]

╔—————————————————————————————— ╗​

╚ —————————————————————————————— ╝
August Leonard
"All the good boys go to heaven but the bad boys bring heaven to you"
​

The constellations frolicked alongside the dreamwalker. His sauntering cadence ripe with fascination and awe as he took ample time to appreciate the dream. For someone who was blind he had never seen something so beautiful. He remained in the shadows. His presence was masked and hidden within the space between where the stars shined. Two crimson orbs traversed the sky as if comets entered her atmosphere. Except instead they were curious satellites peeking into her very soul.

Eventually he made landfall. The impact of his arrival barely noticeable. The only tall-tell sign being cryptic red dots observing her at the center of it all. August slithered his way to the fascinating woman. The complexity of her wings falling no shorter than a tapestry of history. And a testament to who she was. Of all his dream walks he had never seen such a blooming and robust golden wing.

Suddenly the assembly of celestial star-lit creatures stopped and glanced in the direction of the demonic dream-peeper. His crimson optics being the only indicator of his encroachment would leave anyone perplexed. Then the animals scattered. Taking to the heavens to once again fill the night sky with wonder and a breathtaking sight. “Your wings. They’re gorgeous. And yes. I also mean the broken one. Many try to sever their ties or ignore they even have one. Yet here you are caressing it.” A disembodied voice said in a suave tone.

Finally the one responsible for the disturbance and praise began to manifest a corporeal form. Her memories of the appearance of anyone she knew were either nonexistent or had severely deteriorated at this point. Hence why he manifested as himself in his sleek black suit and tie along with combed black hair and leather gloves. Whether or not she could actually see him here was a mystery. Still. He chose to reveal himself.

August stopped just a few meters away from her before standing in front of her. “Who I am is…complicated. What I am is easier to understand. I’m curious about you and I want to know a little more. So let’s start with your name. What is it?” he inquired with a curious tilt of his head. His tone lax and his expression cocksure. He carried himself with a quiet sense of confidence earned through centuries of conflict.

—*—​

 

[Kiie]

˚✩
☪ . ˚
┊
-ˋˏ ༻♡༺ ˎˊ-
°.✩┈┈∘*┈┈*∘┈┈✩.°
╭┈ .★ˋ .*ೃ✧₊ ˚ ༘♡════════════════════════════╗

╰➢ ꒥꒷꒥꒷꒷꒷꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒷꒷꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒥꒷꒥꒷꒷꒷꒷꒥꒷꒥꒥꒷꒷·₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ══ .★.╝​

​

𝒱𝓎𝓇𝒶 𝒜𝒶𝓇𝓎𝓁𝒾𝓃

꧁༺ "To heal is to touch with love." ༻꧂​

​

​

The warmth of the glowing wing enveloped Vyra, a comforting embrace as if being swathed in sun-warmed clouds, gently replenished by a soft, warm rain. This tranquil reverie, however, was shattered as the luminous creatures dispersed, leaving her alone with the intruder who had dared to trespass her dreamscape. Vyra, oblivious to his demonic nature, gazed up at the star-studded sky, the celestial eyes mirroring her own scrutiny of the intruder.

Her golden wing and the broken wings twitched in unison at the sound of his voice, his words a palpable disturbance in the dream's serene atmosphere. The broken wing, initially trembling with a primal fear, underwent a startling transformation. Its delicate feathers hardened into sharp, metallic blades, the wing spreading out in a menacing display despite its crooked form. The tips of the metallic feathers pointed towards the intruder, poised to strike, not in defense, but as an incoming fierce, predatory attack. Before the wing could unleash its deadly barrage, Vyra intervened, her hand gently stroking the metallic surface. The wing shuddered beneath her touch, the metallic feathers melting away, transforming into a shimmering, translucent silk that cascaded to the ground, a delicate veil beneath her feet. Meanwhile, her golden wing puffed out its feathers, wrapping around her naked form, a silent offer of modesty, leaving the decision of how to deal with the intruder entirely to her.

Vyra turned her head towards the intruder, her bright cerulean blue eyes slowly opening, their luminous gaze fixed upon him. She watched him approaching her, Vyra's head tilting slightly to the right as she listened to his words, her eyes never leaving his form. A subtle smile curled her lips, a blend of amusement and a hint of mischievous intent, as if she harbored a delightful, deceptive secret.

Closing the remaining space, Vyra placed her hand firmly against his chest, sliding it upwards to his neck then her arms slithered around his neck, drawing him closer. She brought her lips close to his ear, her breath teasing the exposed skin of his jaw and ear.

"𝒱𝓎𝓇𝒶... 𝒱𝓎𝓇𝒶 𝒜𝒶𝓇𝓎𝓁𝒾𝓃" she whispered, her voice a playful murmur. Her fingers traced a delicate path along his back, then it found its way to his cheek, turning his face towards her. She pulled him closer, her lips hovering dangerously close to his.

"𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝒿𝓊𝓇𝑒𝒹... 𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓀..." she whispered, her words a breath against his lips, pulling away just as their lips were about to touch. A soft hum escaped her lips as she smiled, her hand sliding down to his necktie, pulling him closer until the softness of her chest, enhanced by the feathery embrace of her golden wing, pressed against his. Her lips returned to his ear, a soft laugh echoing against his skin.

"𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎... 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊" she whispered, her lips tracing a path of light kisses along the back of his ear and down his neck, her hand sliding across his chest. The stark contrast between her angelic appearance and her mischievous actions was striking, a hidden darkness beneath a veneer of innocence. The pure spirit within her remained passive, observing without judgment, while the broken wing, now a silken cape, spread across the dreamscape, a clear indication to her complex nature. They, the spirits within, were not bound by rigid notions of holiness as they were the spirits that accepted Vyra, the human vessel with all of her contradictions, her virtues and her flaws. They were pure but never holy.

°.✩┈┈∘*┈┈*∘┈┈✩.°
-ˋˏ ༻♡༺ ˎˊ-
┊
☪ . ˚
˚✩​