#wenlix

[wendyisuncagedfrompeter]

Wendy misses her Felixs

I want my Wenlix again

[athasxele]

My sweet prince... You are the one

                                                          "Because he didn't want me..."

[wendyisuncagedfrompeter]

// alright well I have to disappear for a little bit. But hopefully will return and be up for more rping. Mun is a bit in the dumps and Muse wants her neverlanders to make her feel better//

[puellaavis-old]

§ whoops

send me §, for my muse’s reaction to yours slowly slipping a knife into their chest.

   She tried so hard to scream. All that came out was a squeak. Pain blossomed, petals reaching every inch of her. The presence of the knife in her chest as she tried to breathe it away stung harder than any bee. But looking up at his face hurt even more.

   For a minute, she had let herself believe that he could be loyal to her, too. 

   Wendy had never seen herself as Persephone of this Hell, despite what Tink or Hook or others had said. She would never be a queen, or rule alongside Peter. As dawn broke one morning, she had told Felix. She had told him what the others had all said and how she didn’t believe them. He agreed. Pan wouldn’t have a Queen, he had said. Now she realized just how right he was.

   She stumbled, knees falling into soft earth, sinking into Neverland’s ground. She shrieked in pain as she pulled out the knife with shaky hands. There she was, despite it all, clinging to life. Her breaths were wheezes, her blood leaking out rapidly, making her so lightheaded she could hardly keep focus on his shoes.

   She knew she would die eventually, and by month two, she had known it would be here. She hadn’t thought it would be Felix holding the knife, or Felix being the last face she’d see    she looked up at it again, thinking how rude it must be to take the last face you see for granted, even if it’s a murderer.

   Then she thought of all the things she could be dying from and realized this wasn’t too bad of an option; that maybe, this is what loyalty meant. It meant killing a dog when it writhes in pain and in misery. Her voice was faint, but she clung to his leg and breathed:

                                                                                             "Thank you."

[athasxele]

So it speaks.

      Wendy sat with her back against the bars of her cage, legs tucked up under her chin and hugged by her arms. Her eyes were surely red from past tears, but she'd seemed to empty herself out of them. She'd been staring up at what blue she could see of the sky and her eyes flashed down to lost boy when he spoke. Felix was always so silent--the mysterious shadow to Pan's burning flame. His eyes were steady on hers.She could only hold his gaze for a few moments before she had to look away.       She sighed and gave no answer.

[athasxele]

Why is he even here?

Wendy ~      Does Peter really think I could escape from here? And even if I did, I would still be trapped on the island. I know no one would help me--not if it meant going against the great Peter Pan. So why does he send his noble night to just sit there and watch me?

[athasxele]

      She wasn't crying anymore. That was greater a relief than Felix could say. Pan had given him the job of checking on the caged bird daily, so he would sit for an hour a day against the tree next to hers. Sharping his sword, drumming his legs--anything to help ignore the sound of her sobs. She finally seemed to be through with that. But, now Felix found the silence coming from her to be strangely eerie after days of the alternative.

[sporklift]

Peter watches Wenlix and then ends up joining them. :D

It was hard to tell what time was what in Neverland, considering the eternal dusky state of the island, but that hardly mattered. The Boys were all sound asleep and the ones who were still awake were too torn up crying and wiping their noses on their pillows that they wouldn’t notice anything. Peter was nowhere to be found. And so Wendy took Felix by the hand, and no matter what time it was, started in on what they called their ‘nightly routine.’

(They didn’t know if it happened on a daily basis, since time was too odd to judge in that manner on the island, but whenever the camp was lull in sleep and Peter disappeared, it would happen, so it might as well have been a nightly occurrence.)

It all started years and years ago, back when Wendy had been so disturbed by the sounds of the boys’ sobbing that she couldn’t sleep herself. She’d gone to warm herself by the fire, and found Felix tending it with a distant, pensive, and saddened look on his face. She’d been afraid of him, his towering height, his menacing scowls, before that point. But, just then, around the fire and surrounded by inconsolable tremors and sobs, he just looked lonely.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” She’d asked, and having taken him by surprise, he’d said yes.

Back at home, Wendy had been wont to make friends. She hadn’t expected it to be so easy on Neverland. Nor did she expect to make friends with the intimidating goliath of a boy with a cold speech pattern and piercing grey eyes. But, really, all it took was getting the boy to talk.

That did take some effort, and for the first few months, all he’d wanted to talk about was Peter Pan. Wendy hadn’t minded. It was disarming to hear the way Felix talked about the magical boy — he was almost cloying when he did so, and so completely faithful. She’d never seen anyone else give so much of themselves into one subject before.

Over time, though, it turned her eyes green. 

Jealousy looked bad on everyone, but she couldn’t help it.

But then she’d tripped one day on a walk, and as though out of one of those silly books her friends from school used to read, he’d caught her. And then, before she was fully aware of it, she thanked him with a soft press to his lips. And he said “You’re welcome” in the exact same dialect. 

After that, they continued to take their “nightly” walks, and they continued to talk as they did so, but things did tend to take a more amorous turn.

She knew, secretly, even when she had her arms wrapped around his neck and he’d gone to stand straight, lifting her off the ground, his affections to her were secondary. But, still. When it came to someone like Felix, it was a compliment to be second to Peter Pan.

That is, as long as the Boys weren’t around. Or there wasn’t anything to hunt.

Well, Wendy was aware she wasn’t a priority. But, sometimes it was nice to forget.

And forget she did, lifted up onto a low hanging branch so that she was the same height as Felix, gently stroking her fingers along the feathers that hung down by his ear, an innocent hand rubbing the harsh fabric by his shoulder.

She thought she felt a breeze off her shoulder, but disregarded it as nothing when she felt Felix lick into her mouth.

However, it certainly wasn’t nothing.

Peter Pan has materialized, leaning on a tree a few meters away. His eyes gleamed as they adjusted to the sight.

Wendy was almost smiling, her skin flushed pink, little gasping noises coming from the back of her throat only to be swallowed down by Felix.

It was funny, little dainty Wendy-bird, sucked up in the sloppy mess of licking and biting with spit practically dripping into the less than adequate space between them.

Funny, yes, but Peter found his abdomen twitch and suddenly felt as though his stomach was quite empty.

Felix was starting to feel a bit free with his hands, Peter noticed, as they slowly scraped to the girl’s legs on either side of his ribs, teasing in lifting her nightgown up above her knees. Wendy laughed and murmured something between his lips. And Felix? Felix smiled back. Peter was rather put out by the display.

It was shiny and wet and warm and pressurized against the tree, moving in slow motion and blurring in and out of a haze.

But he hardly had time to soliloquize. Felix scrunched up the white material up on Wendy’s legs, ending it on her hips, before coiling it around and pressing in on her skin, bringing both hands up front and cupping them over her chest, burrowing his thumb in little circles. The girl gasped, breathy and warm and sharp.

And Felix let out a low rumbling chuckle, moving to nibble at the point in Wendy’s chin. A soft, roiling sound that Peter had once thought reserved for him.

Well, that was unacceptable.

He materialized again beside them, jolting them both to attention when he pressed a hand against Wendy’s arse.

The two snapped up and stared at him. Wendy with big, trembling eyes, and Felix with an equally wide but blackening  stare, breath hitching.

Peter said nothing, simply offered a casual smile, and pressed in to the girl’s gaping mouth. She started, but melted into it, retaliating with a slackened jaw when he bit down.

He could tell Felix was tentative, perhaps a bit hurt even. But then he broke off from Wendy and nestled in between Felix’s lips, with a far more fierce retaliation, a hand on his cheek, and a tongue scaling the walls of his mouth.

Wendy stiffened there, unused to this particular brand of deviancy, and perhaps a bit hurt herself that one of the hands keeping her chest warm had shifted to digging nails in Peter’s cheek.

Peter returned to an upright position, ticking his head between Wendy and Felix, prompting them together again. As they came together, he watched with bright eyes for a moment, before setting in, snaking an arm around both of them, trading off hard kisses and suction between their necks. And then they both broke off and nestled into Peter’s throat. One pair of pink, girlish lips tracing delicate rounded shapes against his pulse, and one pair of rough, chapped, and harsh lips biting and sucking along his collarbone.