feralitycomplex

He knew Aether was right. More than right.

There had been a time when being seen that clearly, every flaw, seeing into the eye of the storm, would’ve made Cris's defenses go up and react in kind. Now, it just made him exhale, long and resigned. “Ugh, you’re such a buzzkill when you care about me…” he groaned, but there was no real bite to it. There never was when he teased. When Aether pressed his forehead against his stomach, Cris’s arms came around him automatically, holding him there. Fingers threaded lightly into dark hair, grounding himself just as much as he was grounding Aether. Something about the firmness in Aether’s voice made warmth coil low in his stomach. He didn't do it all the time, but he had to admit that he liked being handled like that, just… taken care of.

“Fine, fine,” he muttered. “I hear you. No need to bark orders at me.” He laced their fingers together and backed toward the bathroom they shared, tugging him along. The light flicked on with a soft hum Cris stopped in front of the mirror. The lightning scars etched along his arms were darker today. thin, branching fractures of brownish red veining under his skin. They’d always looked like cracked porcelain when he pushed too far, but now he could see new sprawlings creeping toward the front of his torso. His jaw tightened.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “I really try not to let it reach the front.” The front meant center mass... The front meant the heart. He turned to the side and looked over his shoulder so he could trace them better visually. “I guess I did burn through more than I thought.” His voice was lighter than the thought had a right to be. He forced himself to move on for the time being, crouching to pull out his soap and hair products from beneath the sink. Vanilla body wash. Familiar, soft, and the most non overstimulating option in his possession.

Behind him, he could still feel Aether’s presence. Surely he could tell he was focused on his reflection. “Do I get to pick what we eat after?” he asked, standing and glancing up through the mirror instead of turning around fully. “Because stir-fry sounds really good today.” His thumb traced absently over one of the branching scars along his forearm. It tingled under his touch.

“...You know, I'm realizing its been a while since we've showered together. Usually I let you go first...” he added more quietly, looking away from himself the mirror this time. “I don't think I say it enough, but...thank you for looking after me. I know I give you shit for it, but at least you remember that I'm human and I have needs.”

He set the vanilla bottles on the counter and finally turned, his expression steadier now. Still tired but present all the same. He gestured over to the shower, wanting to give Aether the control over setting up that part. "Hot shower for the tension, right?"

The moment Cris's fingers threaded into his hair, something in Aether's chest, the organic part, the part that still remembered what it meant to be fully creature went very, very quiet. He stayed there a beat longer than necessary, forehead pressed to the warmth of Cris's stomach, listening to the steadier rhythm of his breathing. Filed it away the way he filed away everything important. The fingers in his hair. The way Cris's exhale had come out long and resigned rather than sharp and defensive. The fact that he was still here, still soft, still letting himself be held as much as he was holding. That was not nothing. That had not always been guaranteed. His cheek pressed to the very human flesh of Cris's stomach, rising and falling with his breathing. One hand had found the back of his knee at some point without Aether consciously deciding to put it there, a loose anchor, just enough contact to feel the realness of him.

Buzzkill. "Yes," Aether said, against the warm skin, with complete seriousness. "That's exactly what I am." No apology in it. No deflection. Just the flat acknowledgment of someone who had been called worse and considered this particular accusation something close to a compliment. If caring too much made him a buzzkill, then fine. He would be the most boring creature Cris had ever encountered. He would be catastrophically dull about it. He finally tilted his head back to look up at him, chin resting lightly where his forehead had been. The luminescence behind his eye was quieter than usual. Warm like honey. "You're allowed to like it," The inugami said. Quiet. Not a tease. Just true. "Being taken care of. You don't have to earn it first." He held his gaze for a moment, making sure it landed, then looked away. Let him have the out if he needed it. He knew the intensity of his gaze could be a lot sometimes. His thumb moved once against the back of Cris's knee. Slow. Absent. The way Aether touched things when he wasn't thinking about it, when his hands were simply doing what they wanted because nothing in him was performing anymore.

Then he let himself be pulled upright, their fingers laced, following Cris into the bathroom with the particular attentiveness of something that never quite stopped watching the things it loved. The hum of the light made his ears flick. Aether watched Cris's face in the mirror before he watched the scars. That was always the order. Expression first, then damage assessment. The jaw tightening told him everything the lighter voice was trying to obscure. Center mass. The heart. He could scan Cris out of precaution but something in him said that would be invasive. He didn't say anything immediately. He came to stand just behind him, close enough that his reflection was visible over Cris's shoulder, the seam of metal and skin along his arms catching the light, the faint luminescence behind one eye that never fully dimmed. He looked at the new branching quietly. "You're not going to let it reach the front." Aether said, low and quiet. Not a command. A statement of shared intent. We are not going to let that happen. His thumb traced a path along Cris's shoulder blade, not over a scar, just… there. Reassuringly affectionate. He watched the way Cris's eyes moved over the new sprawling in the mirror and said nothing about the fact that his touch had stilled there too, that some part of him was mapping the damage the same way Cris was. Quietly. Without making it into something that needed to be spoken aloud.

He crouched with him when he reached for the bottles. Didn't help unless asked. Just stayed in the orbit. Stir fry. The corner of his mouth moved. "Okay, stir-fry it is." He said simply, when Cris asked about picking food. "Whatever you want." The quieter addition, it's been a while, usually I let you go first, landed differently than Cris probably intended it to. Aether heard the unspoken shape of it. The small, almost accidental admission that proximity had been rationed somewhere along the way. That closeness had become a thing Cris dispensed carefully, in measured doses, and hadn't examined why. He held it carefully. "You give me shit for it," Aether repeated back, with no particular inflection, "because it's easier than admitting you're relieved someone's paying attention." His tone wasn't cutting. It was just precise. The way Aether always was when he was being honest, because he didn't know how to be anything but. "I know. I don't need you to say it more than you already do. I just need you in the shower."

When Cris gestured, Aether moved past him without ceremony. Reached in and turned the water on, knowing exactly what Cris's tension needed versus what his nerves could handle. A little hotter than comfortable. Not scalding. The kind of heat that pulled muscle loose and made the body remember it was allowed to be heavy. He held his hand under the spray for a moment, feeling the temperature settle, then withdrew it and shook the water from his fingers. Then, without fanfare, he pulled his shirt over his head. Set it aside. The rest followed with the same quiet efficiency, no performance in it, no self-consciousness about the places where skin gave way to puckered scarring, where the seams of him were visible and unambiguous in the brightening steam. The junctures where organic tissue met integrated metal, the faint lines of scar tissue around the older work, the places where his body had been rebuilt so many times that the map of it had stopped being a wound and simply become geography. He'd never been ashamed of what he was. Not anymore. Not in front of Cris. He stepped in, holding his tail in front of him, worrying the soaking fur between his fingers. The hot spray hit his shoulders and he just stood there, let it run over the metal and the skin alike. He faced forward. One hand loose at his side. His shoulder resting against the tile, not braced, just relaxed. "You let me go first because I'm usually covered in blood." He murmured softly, twisting the fur between his fingers with a small smirk, blinking the warning away that momentarily obstructed his gaze. Probably a faulty sensor.

The rolling of his eyes came with a rolling of his head as well as he neck and shoulders, both loosening them up from their stiffness and showing the attitude in the movement. "You want me to beg you to get this thing off me? Fine. Please, pup?" A slow smirk came to his lips as he felt the zipper slowly dragging against the start of his spine anyway. His suit didn't cause him discomfort, but he didn't like wearing it at home; the one place they didn't have to be super and mindful of themselves. To him, this was another sign that their job was really done once those suits and gear came off. Cool air brushed his skin first, followed immediately by the warmth of Aether’s breath ghosting across his neck and ear. A softened huff slipped from him before he could stop it. His reserves were low enough now that he could feel everything. Every temperature shift, every spark of proximity...

He had to chuckle, Aether and him getting straight to having sex on mission grounds certainly did seem like a very 'them' thing to do. "I'm not too keen on fucking with comms potentially listening in. Might be too entertaining for the paygrade." The zipper trailed down further... "Well...I would say you kind of know about resting," Cris went on, glancing over his shoulder, "only for you it's having to sit on the charger. How's the charge by the way?" he flexed his back muscles once he found that the suit was loose and could be slid off. Starting with his sleeves, he peeled the suit off his torso with just a few motions. "I'll make you a deal," he added, half-teasing, "if the next mission involves something like...godzilla or some other kaiju level threat, I'll save up a little something for you." And hopefully you'll have room for me, went unsaid.

With that, he turned around and sat himself down on the bed once more to start untying his converses. No matter how many pairs he went through, he refused to get anything better. Luckily this pair held up fairly well. He remembered Aether's question.

Did his process scare him? He shook his head no.

"Very little scares me about you, Aether." His voice softened, more honest now than flirtatious. "I think anything I felt before was more...worry? Instead of fear? Almost everything looked like it should've hurt you, and sometimes it did hurt, but...no it doesn't scare me." He popped off both of his sneakers and got up to put then by the door as well before coming back and working off the rest of his suit from his legs, leaving him in his own boxer briefs. The mission was truly over now. How did he feel? The honest answer: drained. Sensitive. Aching. His vision still thrummed faintly behind his eyes, making things just a little bit wavy. The answer he gave instead?

"I wouldn't take my word for it," he purred as he stepped closer, his gaze fixed on those amber eyes. Cris took Aether's hands and guided them, fingers threading lightly through curls, thumbs brushing the sensitive curve of his ears. "Check me for yourself."

Aether watched the slow roll of Cris's head and shoulders with quiet amusement, the movement somehow managing to convey both physical relief and pointed attitude. The smirk that followed made something warm flicker in his chest; that particular expression always meant Cris was playing along while still maintaining his stubborn streak. "Careful Bunny..." Aether murmured against the shell of Cris's ear as he continued drawing the zipper down, "You might actually start to enjoy asking nicely." The softened huff that escaped his partner didn't go unnoticed, and neither did the subtle shift in Cris's posture as cool air met newly exposed skin. Aether could feel it: that thinness in Cris's reserves, the way everything seemed to reach him more directly now. No buffer. No cushion. Just raw sensation. His fingertips traced along the path the zipper had taken, following the ridge of Cris's spine with careful, teasing slowness, feeling the tension still coiled in those muscles despite the mission being over.

The comment about comms made Aether huff out a quiet laugh. "Fair point. Though I'm sure we've given them plenty of entertainment over the last few weeks without even trying." He stepped back slightly to give Cris room as the suit peeled away from his torso, revealing the lean muscle beneath. His gaze tracked the movement with open appreciation: the way Cris's shoulders rolled as fabric slid free, the slight arch of his back as he worked the material down. There was something almost ritualistic about it, this shedding of their hero personas. Aether had watched Cris do this hundreds of times, and it never got old. Each time felt like watching him come back to himself, piece by piece.

His gaze flicked back up to meet Cris's eyes at the mention of his charge. "Charge is fine..." Aether said, rolling one shoulder experimentally. The servos shifted smoothly beneath synthetic skin, no grinding or hesitation. "Sitting at about seventy-eight percent. Plenty for anything you might have in mind?" The corner of his mouth twitched upward at the kaiju comment. "A deal, eh? I'll hold you to that. Though knowing our luck, the next mission will be paperwork and surveillance." He paused, amber eyes glinting with something softer, more vulnerable. "And I'll always have room for you. Don't think I wouldn't make it work. I'd dismantle half my systems if I had to."

It was said lightly, but there was truth underneath. Aether had run the calculations more times than he cared to admit. The math was always there, waiting in the back of his processors like a contingency plan. Silently he watched as Cris had settled to untie his shoes, amber eyes following the familiar ritual. Those damn Converse. He'd lost count of how many pairs Cris had gone through, but he'd long since stopped suggesting alternatives. Some battles weren't worth fighting, and honestly, there was something endearing about the stubborn consistency of it. Cris in his battered sneakers was more Cristian than any amount of tactical gear or hero costume could ever be.

When Cris shook his head and spoke, really spoke, with that softer honesty that cut through all the usual bravado, Aether went still. Very little scares me about you. The words settled into him like something heavy and warm, creating ripples he felt all the way through his core systems. His processors stuttered for just a fraction of a second, caught off-guard by the quiet sincerity. "Worry..." Aether repeated softly, testing the word. His gaze dropped briefly to his own hands, thinking about all those times his body had split open, reformed, glitched and stuttered and broken apart in ways that probably should have been terrifying to watch. He'd seen the way other people looked at him when his form destabilized: that instinctive flinch, the widening of eyes, the step backward. But Cris had always moved closer instead. "I can work with worry. Worry means you care." He muttered, his mind briefly thinking back to the pool incident. He still felt bad about that to this day.

He looked back up as Cris returned from depositing his shoes by the door, now stripped down to just his boxer briefs. The overhead light caught on the planes of his body, highlighting the dip of his collarbones, the shadows beneath his ribs, the faint bruising on his hip from where he'd taken a hit earlier that day. Aether's analytical processes catalogued everything in an instant: the slight waver in Cris's stance, the way his pupils were dilated just a fraction more than usual, the faint tremor in his hands that spoke of deep exhaustion rather than cold. His infrared sensors picked up the slight elevation in Cris's core temperature, the way heat was concentrating in his head. Classic signs of power overuse. Drained. Running on fumes and stubbornness. The stubborn part, at least, was nothing new. "Christian... you push too hard." Aether scolded softly, ears flattening against his skull, his tail lashing as if to beckon him.

When Cris stepped closer with that purr and fixed him with those dark eyes, Aether let him guide his hands, fingers brushing the curls and tracing the soft shell of his ears. "Wouldn't take your word for what?" Aether asked, voice dropping lower, rougher around the edges as he moved his hands to the human's hips. "For how you're feeling?" He tugged Cris closer, guiding him to stand between his knees, hands steady and grounding. "Because I can see you, Cristian. I can see the way you're still compensating for the vision issues. The way you're holding yourself like everything's too loud, too bright, too much."

Aether's hands slid around to the small of Cris's back, palms flat against skin, steadying him. He could feel the fine tremors running through Cris's body, the way his muscles were locked up tight despite the mission being over. "You're still wound up..." the inugami observed quietly. "Your body's still in combat mode even though your brain knows you're safe. How long has it been since you ate something with actual substance? Since you slept more than a few hours?" Aether knew the answer would probably be measured in days rather than hours. Cris had a habit of running himself into the ground when things got intense, surviving on adrenaline and willpower until his body finally forced him to stop. Aether had learned to recognize the signs, had learned when to push and when to simply catch him when he finally fell.

"So here's what we're going to do, yes?" Aether continued, voice firm but gentle. "You're going to let me run a shower, hot, because I know that helps with the sensory overload, and you're going to stand under it until some of that tension comes out of your shoulders. I'll wash your hair if you want, get all the grime and sweat from today off you." His thumbs traced small circles against Cris's lower back, feeling for the tight knots of muscle there. "Then we're going to get some actual food in you, not whatever protein bar you've been surviving on. Something warm. Something that takes more than thirty seconds to consume. Then…" His amber eyes glinted with something warmer, more intimate, "Eh... we can revisit whatever that look you're giving me was supposed to promise."

He leaned forward slightly, pressing his forehead to Cris's stomach, voice muffling against skin. The contact was grounding for both of them. Aether could feel the steady rise and fall of Cris's breathing, could process the warmth radiating from his body, the faint thrum of his heartbeat. "Let me take care of you when you're like this. Please. I know you can push through, you always do, but you don't have to right now."

Aether pulled back just enough to look up at him, and there was something vulnerable in his expression, something almost pleading beneath the usual confidence. "Besides, I'm much more interested in you when you can actually feel everything properly. Not just… through the static." He paused, one hand sliding up to rest against Cris's ribs, feeling the expansion of his lungs. "When you're this depleted, you're muted. Dulled. And I want you, Cris. All of you. Sharp edges and smart mouth and that thing you do when I…"

He cut himself off with a slight smirk, letting the implication hang in the air. "But I want you present for it. Actually here with me, not halfway lost in your own head trying to compensate for everything your body took from you today." Aether's expression softened again, thumb stroking along Cris's side. "You gave everything out there today. Let me give something back. Let me be the one who takes care of you when you come home."

There was a weight to those last words: when you come home. Because that's what this was, really. Not just a physical space, but a state of being. The place where they could stop being the hero, stop being the weapon, and just… be. And Aether wanted to be the one who made that possible, who created that safety, who caught him when he finally let himself fall back to earth. "What you need is food, water, and about twenty minutes horizontal with my hands on you. Then we'll see if you're still standing." Aether's smile widened just a fraction, teasing now. "And if you are? I will be at your mercy completely while I charge... and I will not call you... an asshole."

alinascribblenote

injury related prompts

"stop talking like that, you're going to be fine"

"is that your blood...?"

"stop it, you're hurting them!"

"why didn't you tell me you were in pain?"

"(name)? (name), this isn't funny. please, answer me"

"shit, that's a lot of blood"

"hey, look at me. you're going to be ok"

"don't touch them!"

"you killed them! it was all you!"

"i'm sorry. i can- i can't do this anymore"

"oh, i'm sorry, does this hurt?"

"oh god, you're bleeding"

"that looks broken"

"open your eyes, (name)! open your goddamn eyes!"

"stop saying you're fine, you clearly aren't"

"this is gonna hurt, ok?"

"i came as soon as i heard"

"what... what happened...?"

"god, don't scare me like that"

"where does it hurt?" - "everywhere..."

"you look..." - "awful?" - "broken is one way to put it"

"i can still hear him/her screaming sometimes, you know?"

"you are not dying today, you hear me?"

"just a little longer, you're doing so well"

"wake up! please, just wake up..."

"just breathe.... breathe..."

"why is there a knife in his/her chest? it-it's just a prank, right? it's just-"

"(name), i can't see anything, i'm scared."

"lean on me, yeah?"

"get away from me"

"someone, get help! get help, now!"

"i'm so sorry i wasn't there to protect you"

"he/she's already become cold... you're too late"

"remember me, will you?"

"it hurts so much..."

"he/she's too young to die!"

"why the hell would you stab them? now you've killed them"

"did you get shot?"

"it was too much blood, too quickly... i'm sorry..."

"please be ok..."

"it'll all be over soon, i promise"

"why did you have to be the hero, goddamit!"

"i-i did this...?"

"oh my god, did you break your leg?"

"you re-opened your wound, didn't you?"

"that's gonna need a few stitches for sure"

#prompts

"Take your time..." he let out a soft huff, keeping his sentences brief to catch his breath. While he showed interest in watching Aether consume the Raiju in the most...literal and visceral sense of that word, he needed to assess himself. He took a few steps back so that he was more behind the other and turned his back, covering his ears so he could better feel his pulse against his eardrums. His heart was beating fast, erratically so, a speed that would put the average human into cardiac arrest. His breathing was stabilizing faster than his heart was, so he took a minute holding his breath to calm his heart back to a more manageable rhythm. He had to do it a few times, but soon it started feeling better in his chest and just in time for him to hear the last cry of the Raiju ring out. He almost felt bad for it, he knew Aether was thorough when it came to his feeding.

He uncovered his ears when Aether finished and turned to face him. A sense of relief washed over him when he confirmed that they were good and successful at the containment. Stormy blue-grey eyes returned in place of the glow from earlier as he worked to remove his gloves that kept his hands safe. The smoke from them was a sign that they had prevented what could've been some pretty gnarly burns to his fingers and arms. He really didn't need any more lightning scars. It seemed like his body was more or less okay, he was just exhausted from the whole ordeal and that was easy to see.

"Just...tired I think. It could've been worse." he couldn't help but lean into that clawed touch of Aether's, and those gentle praises certainly didn't help his leaning. Despite the fatigue, he felt...amazing. Incredible. He could even be proud of himself. He closed his eyes briefly at the kiss to his forehead, "Thanks to you," he purred softly, lowly, "We're always better together, you know..." his trailing off almost led to his collapse into Aether's chest. Oh yeah, he was done for the night, and Aether caught that and him. Cris grumbled as he loaded himself onto the other man's back, he knew when he had to accept that he needed assistance, at least. "At least I didn't blow the place up...I didn't blow it up, right?" he chuckled softly before his eyelids grew heavy with comfort.

The next time Cris opened his eyes again, they were home and he was laying face up on their bed. "Woah...I must've knocked out hard because we weren't here a minute ago..." He stared up at the ceiling as he slowly smiled. They were both safe. Taking their intertwined hands to his lips, he kissed the back of Aether's hand before slowly turning his head to look at him. He looked exhausted and he had every right to be after battling a yokai, having to eat it, and then carry Cris home. His eyes dragged down to his gear, that couldn't be comfortable. Cristian bit his lip and pushed himself into sitting up, once he did he turned to Aether and started helping him out of his gear piece by piece.

Gently pushing away any protests or offers to assist, off came vests, satchels, belts, buckles...he had watch him get dressed in this stuff countless times. As he did, he couldn't help thinking back to the fight and the way Aether shined in it. Cris found it shockingly attractive, so much so he had to keep himself from smiling while he was practically undressing him. Last thing to come off were those boots, which he moved to the front door before coming back to tackle taking off his own gear. Luckily, he wasn't meant to be touched during battle, so he didn't have hard layers of protection to peel off. Some moments passed and soon he was left with just his tactical full body suit. He looked over his shoulder after he shook out those brown curls, "...Unzip me?"

Aether had settled on the bed, systems running diagnostics on the consumed Raiju's energy while monitoring Cris's vitals through passive sensors. The moment Cris stirred, his optics brightened, tracking the movement with immediate attention. "You were out for about twenty minutes," Aether confirmed, his voice carrying that warmth he reserved only for Cris. "And no, you didn't blow the place up. Just some minor structural damage. Nothing that wasn't already falling apart." His tail gave a slow, contented sweep across the sheets. "I phased us most of the way home. Faster that way, and you needed rest." He'd been content to simply watch Cris sleep, processing the mission data and letting his systems stabilize. The Raiju's essence was still settling, sending occasional sparks through his circuits, making everything feel sharper and more alive than usual. But when Cris took his hand and pressed those lips to his knuckles, Aether's processors stuttered for half a second, behavioral subroutines suddenly struggling to maintain proper categorization of the gesture.

"Cris, you should rest more. I can—" But his protests died the moment Cris started working on his gear. Those hands knew exactly how each piece came off, had watched him suit up and strip down enough times to have the process memorized. Aether's optics dimmed slightly as the weight of tactical equipment was gradually removed. He remained still, his sensors hyper-aware of every touch. The vests. The satchels. Each buckle and belt. When Cris knelt to remove his boots, Aether's clawed hand moved almost unconsciously to rest on top of his head for just a moment before Cris pulled away to put his boots by the door.

Left in just his black boxer briefs, Aether's form seemed somehow more vulnerable despite the armored plating that comprised his weaponized arm. The sleek lines of his frame were more visible now, circuit-like patterns etched into the skin glowing faintly in the dark. His tail moved in slow, lazy patterns, the tip occasionally flickering with residual spiritual energy. He sat on the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other, watching Cris with amber eyes that tracked every movement with intense focus.

The consumption always left him like this: more aware, more present, more hungry for connection in ways that had nothing to do with spirits or souls. His mouth released soft hisses of heat as he processed the Raiju's energy. The glow beneath his arm pulsed steadily, almost like a heartbeat he didn't actually possess. Watching Cris now, the way those shoulders moved, the curve of his spine visible through the tactical suit, Aether felt something tighten in his core. Desire. Raw and electric and amplified by the Raiju's wild nature still coursing through his circuits. His mind roamed unbidden: the taste of Cris's skin, the sounds he made when Aether's hands found the right places, the way he looked when he came undone.

Aether shifted as Cris stripped down to just that tactical suit. The way those curls shook out. The request that followed made something spike with want. "You didn't say please…" Aether murmured, his voice carrying a rougher edge now. He chuckled as he moved closer, the bed dipping slightly as he positioned himself behind Cris. His clawed fingers found the zipper pull with surprising delicacy, drawing it down slowly, revealing warm skin beneath. Skin he wanted to taste.

"You know," the inugami said quietly, his lips close enough to Cris's ear that the heat of his breath would be tangible, "watching you out there tonight was something else." The zipper continued its descent, his other hand coming to rest against Cris's lower back, steadying the fabric. "If you weren't tired I could've taken you there." His eyes tracked the gradual reveal of Cris's spine, the way his shoulders tensed and relaxed. His tail curled, wrapping partway around Cris's side in an unconsciously possessive gesture. His mind was already cataloging every inch of exposed skin, remembering what made Cris gasp, what made him arch, what made him beg. The consumed spirit's wildness was bleeding into everything, making his thoughts less structured, more primal. "But resting is more important…" He paused, the zipper reaching its end. "Not that I would know about that, yes?" His clawed hands moved to Cris's shoulders, thumbs pressing gently against the muscles there. "I wish you had done that to me instead…" His voice dropped lower. "Maybe next time?" Even in the middle of combat, even while consuming the Raiju, part of his attention had been locked on Cris. Always Cris.

"It doesn't scare you... does it? What I... do." He leaned closer, his lips nearly touching the back of Cris's neck, warm breath and fangs ghosting across skin as he dipped forward. "Eh... how are you feeling now? Really?" The question was genuine but dismissive of his last words, despite the roughness in his tone, the way his hands lingered, despite the hunger that the soul consumption had awakened in him. "Any burns I need to check? Muscle strain? Nerve damage from channeling that much voltage?" His tail tightened slightly around Cris's waist, drawing him back just a fraction closer. Close enough that Cris would feel the heat, the slight vibration of active processors in his arm, the barely restrained tension in Aether's body as he fought to keep himself in check until he had permission to be anything else.

“Yeah, yeah…”

A smirk tugged at his mouth at Aether’s mid-fight flirtation. Cris wiped at his nose, brushing away the thin trace of blood that had escaped him. They hadn’t been paired by accident, far from it. Both of them had long histories with death and the spirit world, and both had earned the right to be here. Not just anyone could wear a Raiju down and still capture it safely. The power station they’d chased it into had been defunct for years, its bones rusted and hollow, its supply running cold. That wasn’t a problem for Cris. Electricity didn’t need a grid when it answered to him directly. Every callout Aether made, Cris was there covering, siphoning off raw lightning as it tore through the air. He pulled it into himself, storing it beneath skin and nerves like a living battery. He hadn’t felt power this pure in a long time.

Training paid off, he could feel the difference. The way he guided the current, the way he segmented it instead of letting it flood him all at once. Controlled and contained after spending so long letting it rule him.

Focus.

He nearly lost that watching Aether move. Calculated. Purposeful. Every strike placed with surgical precision. The tone of his voice when he barked orders. The way his eyes tracked the fight; sharp, intent, wild…

Focus, Cristian. You're on a mission, not a date.

His attention snapped back just as the Raiju’s hackles rose, spiritual fur bristling as lightning cracked violently across its form. Desperation. They had it on the ropes now, and it would strike at any given moment. Though, he felt no fear of it. He knew Aether was picking up on it's pattern, on it's movements, what it would do to survive. Cris planted his feet, bracing himself for the inevitable collision. This was it, it had to be. The moment he’d been hoarding power for. All he had to do was wait.

Wait for the signal.

Wait for Aether…

There it is.

“Got it, dip out!” Cris didn’t wait to see if Aether hesitated. The glow in his eyes blew out to a vicious, almost colorless blue as the electricity inside him screamed for release. The air warped around his body, metal groaning and shrieking as it bent toward him. Aether would have seconds…seconds…to disengage before everything Cris was withholding detonated. The distance between him and the beast was eaten up in a heartbeat. Cris crashed into the Raiju like the human embodiment of a lightning strike, converses skidding through clawed concrete as he caught it. The impact sent a concussive wave rippling through the dead station, glass and rusted metal bursting outward in response. He exhaled a long, steadying breath, the air around him going unnervingly still as the storm bent inward. His gaze flicked once to make sure Aether was in the clear, then he reached out. His hands sank into crackling, black and blue fur, lightning arcing violently up his arms as he ripped the current straight from the Raiju’s body. Every volt it tried to bleed into the air, Cris took and then forced it back.

“Take it all!” he snarled. Electricity detonated between them in violent pulses, each surge louder than the last as Cris forced in more and more power back into the raiju's core. Its body buckled, luminous veins overloading, lightning snapping erratically as the storm turned in on itself. The spirit screamed and roared into the air, its form destabilizing as it collapsed inward, snapping and stuttering until it finally locked up, being viced in a blinding lattice of its own power. Cris held it there, teeth gritted, muscles shaking as the charge burned down to a stable threshold. Not dead. Never dead. Just… forced into stillness.

When he finally relaxed a little, the power station echoed with the fading crackle of spent lightning. Cris staggered back, smoke curling from his hands, fingers twitching, eyes still glowing faintly as he dragged in a breath. “Containment window’s open,” he muttered, slowly glancing toward Aether. “Your move, puppy. I don't know how long it'll stay like that…” He was spent.

Aether's form flickered back into solidity a safe distance away, his frame rematerializing in stages. First translucent, then gaining definition, until he was fully present again. The phasing always left him slightly disoriented, his sensors recalibrating to the sudden rush of input from the physical world. But nothing could have prepared him for what he'd just witnessed. "Shit..." Aether breathed, his voice carrying genuine shock beneath the usual mumble. The readings were insane as his HUD was lit up with warnings about electromagnetic interference, voltage spikes that should have been impossible for a human body to channel, let alone control. "That was… fuck, that was incredible." He took a step forward, then caught himself, his systems still registering the dangerous levels of electricity arcing through the space. The air itself felt charged, heavy with ozone and the lingering scent of burned metal. His sensors tracked the way Cris was swaying, the smoke curling from his fingertips, the faint glow still bleeding from his eyes.

The man had just grabbed a living storm and forced it into submission through sheer will and power. It was beautiful. It was terrifying. It was everything Aether had known Cris was capable of, finally unleashed without hesitation. "That control…" Aether's tail gave an unconscious wag, betraying his excitement even as concern flickered across his features. "The way you just... the precision of that lattice, the containment..." He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. Now wasn't the time to gush. Cris had given him an opening, and that Raiju wasn't going to stay docile forever. His internal systems hummed to life, power routing to the necessary subsystems. "On it... just... eh, stay back... I don't need you catching any blowback from this." His jaw began to click, the first mechanical sound of his jaw unhinging. "I got it from here."

The transformation began with a mechanical click. Then another. And another. The hinges of his jaw dislocated in sequence, his lower mandible dropping far beyond any natural range, splitting wider as the maw configuration took hold. Even for those who'd witnessed it before, the sight was unsettling: his mouth flickered between states, solid one moment, translucent spiritual energy the next, as if reality itself couldn't decide what existed within that gaping void. Ectoplasmic drool seeped from his jaws, luminescent and viscous, hissing where it struck the concrete floor.

He closed the distance with purpose. The Raiju sensed what was coming. Its form flickered with renewed panic, desperately trying to disperse, but Cris's electrical cage held firm. "Easy now…" Aether's words came distorted through his dislocated jaw, almost gentle despite the growling edge. "This'll only hurt for a moment." His clawed hands grasped the spirit's writhing form and pulled it toward his mouth. The Raiju screamed, a sound that existed on both physical and spiritual frequencies, as Aether's jaws closed around its core.

The Raiju's shriek split the air like cracking thunder, its form barely corporeal: a writhing mass of lightning and fur that phased between solid and electric current. Rain hammered down on the abandoned power station, each droplet illuminating in brief flashes as the spirit's energy discharged wildly across metal scaffolding. Aether gritted his teeth, his gun-blade arm humming with stored energy as he fired another round. The specialized ammunition tore through the Raiju's flank, disrupting its form just enough to make it falter. "Cris, now! While it's destabilized!" The spirit wheeled on him with feral intelligence burning in its eyes, recognition that sparked something primal in Aether's own dual nature. His inugami instincts flared, the canine spirit within him bristling at the challenge. He could already feel his jaw aching in anticipation, the phantom sensation of unhinging, of consuming. Rinu stirred beneath his skin, calculating and patient, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The Raiju twisted and dove, becoming a living lightning bolt that scorched across the concrete. Aether's head tilted slightly, tracking the movement with predatory focus as he threw himself sideways, boots skidding on wet floor as he came up firing. Three shots in rapid succession. The first went wide, the second clipped its haunch, the third punched through its chest cavity. "Getting tired yet?" he murmured, voice rougher now. The Raiju lunged in response, covering twenty feet in an eyeblink. Aether barely got his blade up in time; the impact sent him skidding backward, but he shoved back hard and slashed upward with rapid precision. The blade caught it across the muzzle, drawing a spray of liquid lightning, and Aether's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile but a snarl. His pupils had dilated, catching the light and revealing the predator within. The Raiju ricocheted off support beams, building speed until Aether tracked it by sound alone, firing into the darkness. The shot connected, earning a pained shriek that he felt in his reinforced bones.

The spirit materialized on a rusted control panel, panting, its outline flickering between solid wolf and pure energy. Blood seeped from a dozen wounds, evaporating into ozone-scented steam. Aether circled slowly, gun-blade trained on the creature, movements deliberate but prowling. Something that watched and waited and calculated. "You know, I'd prefer if you were the one making me breathless tonight..." Aether called out to Cris, shooting him a grin that showed just a bit too much teeth. "But I guess our friend here works too." The Raiju's lips peeled back, showing jagged fangs in a mocking sneer. Its eyes met his, predator to predator, and in that moment, Aether saw its understanding. It knew what he was. Knew what awaited it. It attacked anyway, because that's what wild things did when cornered.

Aether was ready. He'd been counting on it. His blade snapped out and he met the charge head-on, human reason giving way to something older, something that thought in terms of prey and dominance and the inevitable end. They collided in a clash of steel and lightning, and the whole structure shook. Electricity coursed through his body, making his muscles seize, but he gritted his teeth and held on, driving his blade deeper into the Raiju's shoulder, pinning it with methodical precision. His canines began to sharpen, his jaw starting to ache with the promise of unhinging. "Cris!" Aether snarled through the pain, his voice barely human now, edged with something that was almost amusement. "I've got it! Light it up for me, would you?" The Raiju thrashed and screamed, lightning exploding outward in desperate waves, but Aether's grip was iron. His containment seals flared bright enough to see through his shirt. Just a little more. Just a little weaker. Then he could feed.

@unknovving