(featuring art from SleepyGayCutie!) [Twitter / itch.io]
[An except from my Patreon exclusive short story, Stars-Aligned!]
“However did you find your way up here, my love?”
My love. Those words again. Clara quivered slightly. She didn't know this... this woman. This being. She'd never felt so utterly naked beneath someone's stare, like every part of herself was being peeled away from her and examined, judged. She needed the angel to stop staring. She needed to say something.
“I. I.” She swallowed. “F-Fuck, I, s-sorry—”
The angel's face fell. “Oh! Oh, my love, no, you mustn't!”
“Mustn't w—” Clara was cut off as she felt two of those more delicate lower wings encircling her hips to pull her in closer. She tried to hold onto the train of thought, but her mind felt so… buzzy. Distant.
“Please, my love, please!” The intensity of the angel's stare, her... grief... it made Clara's breath catch. It made Clara's heart stop. “You mustn't defile your fair tongue with such… foulness!”
Your fair tongue. Why did that make Clara blush so hotly? The angel was just so... so beautiful, so flawless, so perfect, and her touch felt so wonderful, her slender fingers caressing Clara's neck, the wings encircling her waist so tenderly as they pulled her into the angel's warmth...
What... what was happening to her? Everything felt so... so darn... weird...
“P-Please,” Clara managed, trying and failing to break the angel's intoxicating gaze. “Please, stop staring at me, I can't...”
“Stop staring?” The angel did not. “Whatever for? You would deny me your beauty, my love?”
Clara whimpered, longing to duck her head, to hide her burning cheeks, to hide herself from those probing, all-aware eyes. “I—I just—you, um—”
“Tell me how you came here.” The eyes glittered with a gravity Clara couldn't deny. They tugged at her, pulled her in. Clara felt warm. Warm and soft. “Please, my love.”
“I.” Clara licked her lips. “I, um.” Words started to spill out of her, uncontrolled, without order. “My—I was—there was a, a summoning—I mean, a circle, and I went inside, I was—the—there was, um, it was a, I saw moon dust on the coat and I realized she was—c-came running—” What was she doing? What was she even trying to say? She couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t control herself, couldn’t even understand the words as they came tumbling clear of her buzzing mind. “And—and I stepped inside, and I felt a—and I passed out, I-I didn't actually see, but—”
She stopped short.
Again, the angel's face had fallen into grief.
“A summoning circle?” the angel whispered. She sounded horrified. She pulled Clara in closer, almost protectively. “Oh, no, my love. Oh no, no, no, no. You were dealing in magic!”
“W-What?” Clara was a little too dazzled by the feeling of the angel's body pressing against her to muster a full response, her face level with the angel's indulgent cleavage. The angel’s chest was just inches away. “N-No, I...”
“You poor, lost thing.” The angel grabbed her face, smooshing her cheeks, and, without warning, pulled Clara face-first into her breasts. Clara tried to squeal, but any sounds she could make were muffled, allowing only helpless moans. The angel was strong. Heat radiated all around Clara, pulsed into her head, her mind, her whole body. The angel's skin was flawlessly smooth, unspeakably soft... “You mustn't do magic, not ever! That’s just dreadful! Do you not know that magic is among the very, very worst Sins a mortal can fall victim to?”
But I didn't, Clara wanted to cry, hating the anguish in her angel's voice. I didn't, I wouldn't—!
“Thank goodness you found me,” the angel cooed in her ear, and Clara trembled with pleasure at that radiant twinkling voice filling her mind. “You may let me take care of you now, my love. I have you, and I shan't let anything hurt you ever again.”
Clara gulped.
The angels of the Glowpebble Path are perfect, holy beings, devoid of malice and pure of conscience. They adore mortals, delight in our joy, and wish only to take care of us. They are utterly alien and extremely dangerous, and those that haven't fallen down to earth are ten times so. I would rather face a demon. Even so, I know if I ever met an angel in person, I would love her instantly and unconditionally. How can you feel any other way for someone like that?
~ ~ ~ ~
thanks so much for reading! If you want to read the full story, check out my Patreon! It has the full version of the fic, a ton of other exclusives, early access to public chapters, a Discord server to join, community polls for future content (including these weekly flashfics), and more!
(featuring art from SleepyGayCutie!) [Twitter / itch.io]
[Except from a Patreon short!]
“Eve.” Quaile smiled shyly. “That's a... pretty name.” A pretty name for a pretty little fairy. The widow felt relief rushing through her. Thank goodness it wasn't some kind of monster. She'd never met a fairy before, but she knew they could be good and kind as long as you treated them with respect and didn't give your real name. Eve was the first non-terrifying thing she'd encountered since she'd entered the Silicon Forest. “I, um... I’m awfully sorry to intrude into your beautiful garden, but I was wondering if I could pick something from the base of that...”
She trailed off. Eve kept flitting to and fro with excitement, her wings a fast-fluttering blur, and that golden fairy dust was scattering all around Eve like a glittering halo. It was really pretty, but also somewhat… distracting.
“Hm? From my what?” Eve batted thick, dark eyelashes. “From our garden, you mean?” She giggled, dancing from side to side, her hips swinging with a distinct mischief.
Quaile was trying to be polite. She knew eye contact was respectful, but she’d never been very good at it, and the rhythmic sway of those hips felt like an… easy anchor. She knew she shouldn’t. It made her seem strange, it made no sense, women weren’t even supposed to look at other…
“O-Our?” she blurted.
Eve’s form seemed to almost blur for a moment. A brief bout of static crackled in Quaile’s ear.
“Oh, hiiii~!” another voice chimed, and a second fairy, this one with brilliant red hair, flew out from behind her. Her fairy dust was more of a rose gold hue. Like Eve’s, though, it was strangely hard to focus on. “My name's GenESI! But you can call me Jenny!” She flitted up and planted another kiss on Quaile's cheek, then giggled, bouncing up and down in midair. “Wow, your cheeks are so red!”
“I know!” Eve lamented, making a show of fanning herself. The pair swirled around Quaile's head. Quaile was trying to keep moving forward towards the flowers, but she felt like she had to keep spinning to keep them both in view, and it was starting to make her dizzy. Her advance was stumbling and unsteady. “Mortals are suuuuch fun! Always so cute and bashful!” She smirked at Quaile, flying up to whisper in her ear, “But this one's especially precious.” Her body seemed to crackle. Suddenly, she was much, much closer. “And cute, too.”
Quaile felt her cheeks burning. For some reason, their praise made her feel all... bubbly inside, but she didn't know why. They were very pretty, obviously, with gorgeous sparkling hair and curvy little figures and those enchanting green eyes, but… but why would that matter to her?
She took another step towards the birdbath, finally giving up on keeping them both in sight. It was too hard to focus on them, anyways. Their forms were so... blurry at the edges. No, not blurry. Blocky? It was so strange, and she didn't have time for this. “I-I need,” she said slowly, “to pick a few of those suncup flowers. If... if that's quite alright with you two, Eve and Jenny.”
The fairies both halted their flight and pouted.
“Oh, she's so businesslike,” Jenny muttered.
“So formal,” Eve agreed. A frown crossed her exaggerated perfect features.
Quaile's heart sank. She licked her lips. “I'm sorry if I'm being—I'm sorry to be rude. I don’t mean to be, I just… I only wish to help my village. My—my husband, he was much better at talking to people, but—but I didn’t mean any harm.”
The two fairies exchanged looks, then smiled at her. They flew up to alight upon her, one on each shoulder, leaving winding trails of pink-and-gold fairy dust sparkling before her eyes.
“There's no offense, Ailah,” Jenny cooed in her ear.
“Poor, shy lass!” whispered Eve. “Your husband left you? And you such a pretty thing!”
“H-He's, um, passed, actually.” Quaile squirmed a little and forced herself to keep walking. “Two years ago, he—”
She only registered too late that her path had taken her straight through the cloud of blurry, blocky fairy dust the fairies had just created, and she sputtered and sneezed as the sparkling mist enveloped her. Her whole head buzzed and thrummed like static. She swayed.
“Oops!” Eve giggled. “Poor, clumsy girl! You've gone and gOtTTtttEeEeEeEn…” Her voice seemed to warp and bend, discordant notes and strange staticky crackles briefly overwhelming Quaile’s senses.
The glitching passed. And when it did, Quaile found that Eve’s voice sounded different. It sounded… clearer. Like Eve had been speaking into a tin can until this very moment. “... yourself all up and pixilated! You silly thing, not watching where you’re going!”
“W-Wha—”
“And you poor thing,” Jenny whispered, planting another little fluttering kiss on Quaile's cheek, and her voice sounded clearer, too. “You've been through sooo much! You're lucky you ran into us.”
They both fluttered back, beaming at her. Quaile kept walking forward, dizzied, dazed. She couldn't fully remember why she'd been walking in this direction. It must have been to keep looking at Eve and Jenny, mustn't it? They were so... so pretty, with their big, smug smiles and their beautiful shimmering eyes and the pretty glittery blurry staticky fog that surrounded them… surrounded her…
“Yes, yes, yes,” Eve sang, flying in slow, lazy golden corkscrew spirals. “We make everything so much simpler, don't we?”
“S... Simpler.” Quaile had meant it as a question, but everything felt so silly and blurry and foggy, it didn't sound like one, did it?
“That's right!” Jenny flew right up close until she held Quaile's full, helpless attention. “You want everything nice and simple with us, don't you? That’s what pixilation is all about, you know. Making things simpler!”
“I... the, the, um...” Quaile's voice was failing her. Jenny was perched on her nose and smiling, and Quaile found herself smiling, too, a big, happy, simple smile, because everything felt so happy and simple when these two adorable ladies smiled at her and batted their thick, pretty lashes. “The suncups...”
She wasn't even sure what she was saying. Some part of her was tugging, nagging, tense and panicky, but it felt so small, the very smallest part of her, and she was already so very small herself...
“Of course,” Eve cooed, and the tension in Quaile's mind seemed to immediately unravel. “Of course. We'll take care of everything.”
“Oh.” Quaile giggled. “That's, um... good?”
Jenny smirked. “Of course it is~"
* * *
Very few in the Glowpebble Path know how to safely enter the Silicon Forest. Most empyreal charms are cheap knockoffs, and even the real ones don't do that much more than the odd energy pulse to dissuade the horrors in that place. What you have to know is that the scariest things in the Forest aren't the crackling electrical trees or mutated half-technological beasts. It's the things that look like fairies. Look, I don't need to tell you fairies are dangerous, but that's not a fairy you're looking at. Stay away from rogue AIs if you value your life, mind or dignity.
* * *
Thanks so much for reading! If you wanna read the full story, check out my Patreon! It's got the full version of the fic, plus a ton of other exclusives (like content polls) and early access to public chapters. I really appreciate everyone who supports me whatever way they can--I love getting to return to these flashfics, and there may be a sequel to this story going up there. SGC's art just kind of made me fall in love with Quaile, the poor dear. Definitely writing more subby milfs in the future.
