Fanmail the Fourth - Day 55

[idolpro]

[ Fanmail will be found in big boxes full of letters in the elevators themselves, obstructing everyone's paths. Some letters have QR codes, with instructions to scan them with your cell phone's free QR code scanner function. Beyond the letters that are submitted below, you may assume there are more letters in every box if you'd like.

Although bodies of letters may include idol aliases, assume every envelope and package is addressed to or otherwise uses the official idol name of the character.

Letters found in the "Everyone" header may be assumed to be part of every unit's box, most likely with multiple copies of the submission unless otherwise stated. ]


sensitIV
pep!pep!
Taisho Roman Revolution
BAD END=DEAD END
future is now
WILD CITY
☆ZRAEL
Heart Soldier Senshi
AlcheME!
avante en garde
Everyone

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To Loki

[idolpro]

Santa had often told Loki that Yasuragi was two-faced, but as Loki watched the other man peel the hood of his skin back to reveal the pale, alien face and the bone white skull affixed over it, empty sockets dark and infinite like a void of space that had never seen the birth of a star, it dawned on him that she had somehow still underestimated the man. Monster. Three faces; how perfectly like him—to have to keep himself so unknowable, so mysterious, so above them as to have a third.

There was something poetic and perfect to the form he now revealed to be his new, truer self. The crown of some enemy adorning his brow, the flimsy cape of his discarded identity hanging off his "shoulders," the proud posture of a winged predator, deceptively soft and fluffy and terminating in large, lofty wings, all with his fragile organs seemingly on display, a tantalizing treat begging to be eaten. Just like any vulnerability he ever showed as a man, though—it's all just a show, a lure, something to distract you from the writhing nest of barbing tendrils that will hold you down as they lovingly impale you and draw out from you your innermost secrets and pains.

He wanted it. And so he rushed headlong toward that embrace, bones popping and mass rippling, hands blackening and curling in on themselves like paper set aflame, jaw distending and popping, teeth sharpening. His mouth was watering already, the imagined taste of his lover already on his tongue.

Yasuragi—the creature that had been Yasuragi—leapt backwards, great brown wings catching air, hoisting him off the ground. Loki—the snarling beast that would someday be Loki again—dodged the appendages snapping at him, or tried to. A few thorns pricked his hide, black like the pits of hell, but ultimately they did not slow him down. Yasuragi would dip forward and then retreat; Loki would dodge and then lunge, and so they entered into a dance, drawing them closer and closer to what Loki knew in his heart to be the bring, shuddering moment of truth.

Perhaps he should have been afraid that his lover meant to rip him to pieces. And yet what he felt was an inexorable joy, an ecstasy even: he had never felt so entranced by another being before, certainly not one so hideously lovely. The only thing that mattered in the entire world anymore was that harpy, and especially those appendages that had once been his arms that were keeping his lover just out of his reach.

If he couldn't reach Yasuragi, then—he'd just have to make Yasuragi come to him. He retreated, again and again, refusing to lunge after Yasuragi, as though he'd fallen into a defensive pattern. Emboldened by his seeming success, the harpy made a particularly vicious strike at Loki raking at his side with his talons. That made it easy for the hell hound to pretend that he was more badly wounded than it appeared; when Yasuragi came back to strike again, no doubt believing his victory was imminent, Loki turned and struck, grabbing hold of one of one of Yasuragi's wings with a snarling snap. Using that momentum, he pulled him down out of the air, their limbs and snapping mouths tangling together.

Invisible barbs hidden in Yasuragi's wings bit into Loki even as his fangs sunk down into that warm, supple flesh, kind for kind. He liked it, though, welcomed the stinging pain like a lover's peppered kisses across his mouth. The mingling of their blood, sprinkling and spattering on the barbs of the vines that kept whipping at him, made dark red flowers bloom across those green growths, and that, too, was pleasing. With his free limbs, wing and thorny vines alike, Yasuragi continued to beat at him, but it's no use: Loki's jaw was set, locked even, and the crunch of hollow bones shattering was like the first sweet chords of a love song.

… And the song was just beginning.

Loki continued to yank and tear, throwing his head this way and that. Yasuragi's cries became one continuous scream, unending like the font of blood flowing from the wound Loki created as he finally tore the wing right off. Tufts of brown feathers scattered. Loki couldn't resist (did and didn't want to resist) the urge to eat some of that flesh caught in his mouth, to swallow feather and skin and hot muscle down his gullet, sweeter than any chocolate and more warming than any liquor. Yasuragi's screams became more high pitched and tremulous, hollow like his bones, as he bled out underneath Loki who simply didn't care.

He didn't stop there, either; there was still one more wing to pull from his lover. Again Yasuragi screamed, although now his shriek was the enfeebled lamentation of weak prey who knows there's no more hope, no use in resisting. Tears blurred Loki's eyes as he kept his lover pinned beneath him with his mighty paws and pulled off his other wing, leaving him flightless, grounded. Permanently.

This was right, this was perfection. For if Yasuragi would not use his arms to hold Loki, would dare to use them to fly away from him--then he had no use for them, nor for the treacherous heart still laboring within his breast. And with that, Loki lunged forward one last time, burying his muzzle within the barely-breathing cavity of his beloved's chest, marrying Yasuragi's blood and flesh irrevocably to his own so that no one else could have him.