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ketchup-monthly · 3 years

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Night Talks - Chapter 2

@anxious-ace Chapter 2!

Loceit (pre-relationship)

Tws: alcohol mention, flower mention

It wasn’t until a month later that Logan found himself alone with Janus again. It wasn’t that they were deliberately avoiding each other, they just never seemed to be in the same place at the same time without Remus or another side around. The month had gone surprisingly well, especially with Virgil moving from the Dark Side to the Light Side, and any problems that could have arisen from that. As Virgil spent most of his time in his room—no longer a crypt, but a dark room with purple accents and fairy lights strung up near the ceiling—to get used to one thing at a time, the misunderstandings were few and far between. That’s not to say that there weren’t disagreements and accidents from those under his watchful eye, but the blame for most of them was to be placed on Patton and Roman.

As it was the last time he had run into Janus, it was late at night, though this time, Patton and Roman were asleep and Virgil was either asleep or enjoying quiet time in his room, free from an overly energetic prince. Logan was doing his final checks of the commons before checking the tenets of the Light Side, making sure that lights were turned off, countertop appliances were turned off, and there wasn’t anything left out on the counter that would attract pests or go bad. Logan was so focused on getting into the kitchen, on making sure there was nothing in the toaster or blender and that they were turned off and unplugged that he missed the dim light from a lamp in the corner of the seating area.

Logan shuffled around the kitchen, messing with appliances, and taking something green with a strange metallic sheen to it but a sticky texture and a strange smell out of the toaster before putting it in a tupperware container and placing it on the portion of the counter where he always left Remus’ experiments or pranks when he found them. After checking the rest of the kitchen, Logan sighed and walked back out into the sitting area, where he noticed a lamp on, light directed at a side curbed up in one of the armchairs. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was Janus, staring forlornly at the pages of a book, eyes unmoving aside from the occasional sluggish blink.

“Janus?”

His head didn’t move, but his shoulders jumped up towards his ears before lowering to where they were prior.

“Why are you still up, is Remus setting off the fire alarms again?” Logan perched on the edge of the other armchair far as he could get from the other, not wanting to invade his personal space.

“I don’t miss him. I don’t miss the ambient sounds of another person in the room. I definitely don’t miss the sarcastic comments, or the secret smiles, or the way he used to look at Remus and I as if we meant the world to him. The days long past, when he was but a child, I don’t wish we had them back.”

“Virgil, I’m assuming. Wait one moment please.” Logan stood up, heading back into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of red wine from the fridge and two wine glasses. He set the glasses on the table between their chairs and uncorked the bottle, pouring it into the two glasses. He held a glass out to Janus.

“Here. Would you like me to tell you about what’s been going on on my side? With Virgil and the others? And in return, you could tell me about Remus?”

The other side took the glass and sat up, book closing and falling to his side. “Of course not. Care to converse over a game?”

He snapped his fingers, producing a deck of cards adorned with a black rose design on the back. He twisted, sitting cross-legged, sideways in the chair, facing Logan.

At the unexpectedly sharp noise, Logan looked closer, noting that Janus wasn’t wearing his gloves, for once. His scales didn’t just cover the side of his face, it seemed, as there were lighter scales creeping up the back of his hands. They looked to be in better condition than the ones on Janus’ face. Logan wondered what they felt like, if they were cool to the touch, if they were rough or smooth, if they felt like a real snake’s scales or like something else entirely.

He shook his head and looked back into Janus’ mismatched eyes, focusing again. “What game?” Logan pushed the wine glasses to one side of the table and put the wine bottle on the table behind him.

“Not Gin, that’s for certain. You must be aware of the rules, yes?” He carefully removed the cards from the box and methodically shuffled them after removing the jokers, eyes straying to look back at them.

Logan nodded. “I have played Gin before, Virgil taught me a few weeks ago, though I admit I have not played it very much since.”

At the mention of Virgil, Logan noticed a slight twitch on Janus’ face, as if it fell for a second before a mask was put back in place, resulting in a small hollow smirk resting across his lips.

“Very well.” He dealt the cards, giving them both ten cards and the extra card to Logan to start.

Logan looked at his hand, noticing familiar faces on a couple of his cards. “Janus, what theme is this deck of cards?”

Without looking up at him, moving his cards around his hand instead, the other answered. “Thomas. Look at the jokers.” He pushed them across the table into Logan’s line of sight.

On each of the cards was an image of Roman and Remus, the first a mostly black and green one where they rested back to back, each holding a flower, Roman gazing down at a wilted amaryllis forlornly and Remus smiling nicely, a vibrant handful of angelica clutched in his grasp. The other was mostly red and white, Roman, flushed and smiling, looking off into the distance with a bouquet of red roses held gently to his chest. Behind him is Remus, a single overgrown rhododendron losing petals from the tight grip Remus had on it, a manic grin on his face.

Logan’s eyebrows rose at the beautifully detailed images. “You designed these? They’re incredible.”

Janus nodded, peering up through his fringe at Logan, gauging his sincerity. “Thank you.” He gestured towards the table. “Shall we play?”

“Of course, allow me to take a minute to look at my hand before discarding.”

Logan looked closer at the cards in his hand. A five of clubs, a seven of clubs, a five of hearts, a seven of hearts, a jack of spades, an ace of spades, a four of spades, a six of spades, a jack of hearts, a kind of hearts, and a six of diamonds. He placed the six of diamonds into the center of the table and looked closer at the ace and the face cards.

The ace had Patton on it, a white camellia tucked behind his ear, holding a blue hydrangea with white jasmine flowers placed around it. The figure on the card is smiling, eyes crinkling at the corners, form haloed by forget-me-nots.

Virgil was the side placed on the jacks. He was sitting down on a patch of clover, white flowers poking up above the green mass, hood down but still bunched around his neck, playing with a single red columbine. A crown of edelweiss and what looked to be coriander woven in sat atop his purple locks, the white and green making the color stand out more.

Before he could look further at the king, a throat was cleared, causing him to look up.

“Are you going to play a card, Logan? Or simply sit there all night.” He was smirking, no hint of malice in his words.

“Apologies, I was admiring the craftsmanship.” The logical side looked down at the pile, seeing that his six had been taken and replaced by the two of clubs. He drew a card from the draw pile, picking up and putting back down the king of diamonds.

While Janus was taking his turn, Logan looked at the king. Since it wasn’t Roman, or even Remus, it had to have been Janus. He wouldn’t put Logan on the king on the deck of cards he had created, would he?

He had. The king card had Logan on it, gazing off to the side, a small smile on his face, a book gently pressed against his chin, a blue hyacinth bound to the front with twine. A laurel of violet and clematis adorned his head, and there were a couple herbs that Logan didn’t recognize laying at the bottom corner of the image. It could be rosemary, but he wasn’t as sure as he was about the identity of the other flowers.

He looked back up from his hand to see Janus glancing at him expectantly before turning back to the discard pile, where a five of spades now lay. Logan picked up the five of spades, exchanging it for the jack of spades. He watched carefully as Janus drew a card from the draw pile and placed it into his hand, face betraying nothing. He took another card from his hand and placed it in the discard pile, the nine of hearts.

As Logan had no need for it. He drew the queen of clubs from the pile and held it carefully, looking at the new design, that was of Janus, as he was the only side not yet included.

His eyes and mouth were closed, and his head was tilted down slightly, facing directly out from the card. In his ungloved hands he held a snapdragon, an anemone plant, and a belladonna. Pinned to his collar was a black-eyed susan, and tucked into the band of his hat lay a single sprig of lavender and a bittersweet blossom. It was a very beautiful card, but it didn’t sit right that Janus looked so sad in the image.

Logan placed the queen onto the discard pile, for it to be snatched up immediately by Janus who put a card face down and laid out his winning hand: the king, queen, and jack of clubs, the king, queen, jack, and ten of diamonds, and the sixes of diamonds, hearts, and clubs.

“A good game. I suppose you weren’t going to tell me about the others. A shame, for I so wanted to talk about Remus.” He sighed and took a sip of his wine.

“Hm. I must know less about this game than I thought. Another round? I’ll speak as we play, and this time I will not lose so fast.” Logan handed his cards back to Janus, who shuffled them expertly, the bridge making a satisfying sound.

He smirked, dealing out the cards again. “Tell me, then.”

Logan placed down the first card. “Patton almost burned the kitchen down again while trying to make cookies in the toaster. I’ve told him several times that he cannot do that, and even put a sign up on the toaster in the Light Side kitchen, but I believe he ignores it and Roman encourages it.”

Janus nodded and took his turn. “Delightful. Remus flooded our space with sewer water. Luckily, he claims that there was nothing actually in it, at least in the dark common area, but it still smelled horrible and left my shoes and pants with a wonderfully unique texture.”

“I would love to assist with one of his experiments sometime.”

“He’d be delighted if you did. Perhaps our commons would finally be clean. It must be your turn.”

“Thank you. While Roman is a, granted, very good singer, as one of the creativities, I would very much appreciate it if he could cease for a while so I could work in peace and quiet.”

“I don’t understand at all how you feel. Remus never does that, ever. Though his singing is closer to screeching. Used to drive Virgil nuts. He’d hide himself and refuse to come down or out.” Janus’ face fell again.

“He still does that, usually when Roman is being overbearing. Patton tries in vain to lure him down with cookies, but given that Patton tries to cook them in the toaster, I believe Virgil is within reason to refuse them. It’s unfortunate that it comes to it, but I have to take his headphones hostage.” Logan smiled.

The other side smiled back at him, a bit sad. “His foundation and eyeliner were always safe from me when he would do that with Remus and I. Even then, when he came down, it was straight for the snakeskin jacket and the shoes. I assume he still wears them around the three of you?”

He shook his head. “No, we haven’t seen him wear them yet. Must be just for you.”

Janus placed a card face down and laid out the cards in his hand, frowning. “Surely we don’t have time for another game?”

“We do, if you’d care to.” He handed the cards back to Janus, who pushed them back to him.

“You shuffle this time, and I’ll deal them.”

Logan clumsily tried to mimic the smooth motions that Janus had when he shuffled the cards. It wasn’t working quite right, the cards not all doing what he was having them do. Getting a bit frustrated, he handed them back. “How do you get them to do that?” he asked, a small pout on his face that he would deny being there.

“It came naturally to me.”

Logan had noticed a particular lilt to Janus’ voice that appeared only when he lied, and knowing the fact that he had to practice to be able to shuffle cards the way he could set Logan more at ease.

Janus dealt the cards and the game began. “I wonder what went wrong.”

“The two of you are very different individuals, but you are also very much the same. The space between you now may help you in the future, allow you to see past yourselves and see the other properly.”

“I suppose.”

“I’d suggest giving Virgil space until he feels like he can come to you and start a conversation. Don’t force him, but make sure he can tell that you are genuine about your intentions with him. One thing I’ve learned about Virgil is that he likes knowing that people are genuinely interested in talking with him or being around him.”

Janus smiled up at Logan. “Thank you.”

The two finished their game quietly, sipping their wine until their glasses were emptied and Logan placed the final card upon the discard pile face down, signifying a win for him.

Janus’ smile grew, the fangs on the left side of his mouth becoming visible. “An excellent game. May we play again soon.”

He took the cards from Logan and put them back in the box as Logan took the wine bottle and empty wine glasses back to the commons kitchen. Janus followed him after stowing the cards back wherever he had procured them from.

“The cards really are beautiful, you know.”

The human appearing side of Janus’ face flushed. “Thanksss.”

Logan turned to look at him. “I must ask though, why do you look so sad on your card? Aside from the twins, everyone else appears happy or content.”

“I am a mystery, Logan. If Logic himself cannot investigate, I fear Thomas is done for.” A small, self-deprecating smile painted his lips. “Goodnight, Logan.”

He walked away to the door that led to the Dark Side.

“Goodnight, Janus.” Logan retreated to the Light Side after having checked the lights and doors again, stopping in front of Virgil, Patton, and Roman’s rooms to make sure they were asleep before heading to his own room and drifting off.

Flower Meanings:

Roman- Amaryllis (pride), Red Rose (romance)

Remus- Angelica (inspiration), Rhododendron (danger, beware)

Patton- White Camellia (you’re adorable), Blue Hydrangea (gratitude for being understood, frigidity and apology), White Jasmine (Sweet love, Amiability), Forget-me-nots (true love memories, do not forget me)

Virgil- White Clover (think of me), Red Columbine (anxious, trembling), Edelweiss (courage, devotion), Coriander (hidden worth/merit)

Logan- Blue Hyacinth (constancy), Violet (watchfulness, modesty, faithfulness), Clematis (mental beauty), Savory (spice, interest), Rosemary (remembrance)

Janus- Snapdragon (deception, graciousness), Anemone (forsaken), Belladonna (silence), Black-eyed Susan (justice), Lavender (distrust), Bittersweet (truth)

#sanders sides #logan sanders #ts logan #loceit #ts loceit #janus sanders #ts janus #ts patton #ts remus #ts roman #ts virgil #tw alcohol #tw flowers #s.s. loceit #ketchup writes

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chips1977 · 4 years

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WARNING : I'm just an addict ... addicted to music. There are people who are born to make music, o8 thers are born to hearing. Whenever was part of this second group. Maybe it's. a habit, I gotta use, even if it 's rock, jazz or the quiet storm. Great pictures of the things I love - music, painting, books, photography, architecture, design, women, and more. I love music more than lasagna. Better to burn out than fade away. The older you get, the better life gets. But time also seems to be accelerating, the clock running too fast. So, looking at those early days, everything is very slow, stretched, and great significance. The most recent time, I spent busy with simple things.People think rock and roll is only about teenage rebellion, but why can not exist old rebel too? THE RESIDENTS is my Biggest Addiction, and,THE RED KRAYOLA, OLD TIME RELIJUN-ARRINGTON DIONYSO,R. STEVIE MOORE,SHRIMP BOAT,SMEGMA,THE SUN CITY GIRLS, LEGENDARY PINK DOTS,MINIMAL COMPACT,FRANK ZAPPA,CAPTAIN BEEFHEART,THE VELVET UNDERGROUND,THINKING FELLERS UNION LOCAL 282,THE EX,CAN,FAUST,WEEN,TELEVISION,THE MODERN LOVERS,SNAKEFINGER,MILES DAVIS,SUN RA,KRAFTWERK,ANAL MAGIC & REV. DWIGHT FRIZZELL,MICHAEL YONKERS,MOONDOG,THE WORK,RAYMOND SCOTT,THE GO-BETWEENS,SLAPPY HAPPY,ART BEARS,NAKED CITY,HENRY COW,SKELETON CREW,JOHN ZORN,FRED FRITH,THE FIBONACCIS,BONGWATER-MARK KRAMER,SHOCKABILLY,BAND OF SUSANS,THE PAINTEENS,STUMP,RENALDO AND LOAF,CERTAIN GENERAL,THE THREE JOHNS,CHROME,PRIMUS-LES CLAYPOOL,EUGENE CHADBOURNE,ESKIMO, MINUTEMEN, MISSION OF BURMA,FUGAZI,BLURT, GLAXO BABIES,THIS HEAT,THE SEA AND CAKE,SAVAGE REPUBLIC,TUXEDO MOON, XTC,U.S,MAPLE,THE PAPER CHASE,DANIEL SMITH- DANIELSON FAMILE ....... Other musical priorities are: HENRY FLYNT, THE FEELIES,PERE UBU,THE CLASH, JOY DIVISION, PROTOMARTYR, CAR SEAT HEADREST,THE BETTER-BEATLES, DARKSIDE,THE MEMBRANES, THEATRE OF HATE, NOCTURNAL PROJECTIONS,THE LINES,CARDINAL,CLEANERS FROM VENUS,THE JAZZ BUTCHER, ELVIS COSTELLO,THE MONOCHROME SET, TELEVISION PERSONALITIES, ALTERNATIVE TV, GONG,ANNIE ANXIETY, THE DEL-BYZANTEENS, WALL OF VOODOO, BUTHOLE SURFERS, RICHARD DAWSON, MAC DeMARCO,WOVEN HAND,16 HORSEPOWER, DAVID EUGENE EDWARDS,SHELLAC, SLINT-PAPA M-DAVID PAJO, LUNGFISH, OM, EARTH,THE BOOK OF KNOTS,LOUNGE LIZARDS-JOHN LURIE,ANTON FIER-GOLDEN PALOMINOS,PETER BLEGVAD,PETER HAMMILL,TOMAHWAK,FANTOMAS,MR. BUNGLE, MIKE PATTON, SUICIDE-MARTIN REV+ALAN VEGA,AARON FREEMAN,JAPAN,STEREOLAB, SPACEMEN 3, SPECTRUM, SWELL MAPS, SILVER APPES, SWELL,MORPHINE, HAWKWIND, DEVO,FLYING LIZARDS, MAGAZINE, RALPH CARNEY,ROBERT WYATT, JOHN WILKES BOOZE, KEVIN COYNE, DAEVID ALLEN, SLEEPYTIME GORILLA MUSEUM, MX-80 SOUND, SOPOR AETERNUS & The ENSEMBLE of SHADOWS, THE AUTEURS,MAN MAN, DAMIEN JURADO, DAVID DONDERO, CHAD VANGALLEN, LONG FIN KILLIE, MAGIC TRICK-TIN COHEN, CHRIS COHEN, DAVID BAZAN,VAMPIRE RODENTS, JON WAYNE, PRAM,THE OLIVIA TREMOR CONTROL, PAVEMENT, PATTI SMITH, FUGS, PEARLS BEFORE SWINE-TOM RAP, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA-JOSEPH BYRD, FAMILY, GODZ, BONZO DOG DOO DAH BAND,PENTANGLE,THE INCREDIBLE STRING BAND, SLOVENLY, CHEER- ACCIDENT, TARWATER, COIL,THROBBING GRISTLE, SHAWN LEE, CLUTCHY HOPKINS, JURYMAN AKA IAN SIMMONDS AKA WISE IN TIME+SANDALS, ZOOGZ RIFT, THE BOOKS,NEW THRILL PARADE, CHRIS KNOX , DAVID KILGOUR,THE BATS,THE CLEAN,THE PIN GROUP, CRIME CITY SOLUTION, ROWLAND S. HOWARD,TOM WAITS, VIC CHESNUTT, JOE HENRY, ALEJANDRO ESCOVEDO,THE TAPE BEATLES,THE GUN CLUB, MAGAZINE,THE DENGUE FEVER,THE PAPER CHASE,THE FIERY FURNACES,THE MICROPHONES-PHIL ELVRUM,GARY WAR,RAILROAD JERK, KARL BLACK- SOCK HEADDED PETERS-LEMON KITTENS,THE MUSIC TAPES,THE SHAGGS, BOBB TRIMBLE, FISH AND ROSES, DIABLO SWING ORCHESTRA,POP D`ELL ARTE,MLER IF DADA,TOM ZÉ, WALTER FRANCO,OS MUTANTES,CAETANO VELOSO,MILTON NASCIMENTO, ARNALDO ANTUNES,VINICIUS CANTUARIA,JORGE BEN,CAZUZA,CEREBRO ELECTRONICO,CORDEL DE FOGO ENCANTADO,ROGERIO SKYLAB,OTTO, MOMBOJÓ,CRIOULO,MAX CASTRO, METÁ METÁ, ATALHOS, ROMULO FROES,WADO,ORQUESTRA IMPERIAL, LENINE,APANHADOR SÓ,MUNDO LIVRE SA,NAÇÃO ZUMBI, ALÇEU VALENÇA,ANT- BEE, BILL FAY,RON SEXSMITH,EL GUAPO,DAVID GRUBS,TORTOISE, SAM PREKOP, GASTR DEL SOL,HENRY KAISER,HOME & GARDEN, BOB DRAKE, MY DEAD IS DEAD, AKRON FAMILY, SWANS,THESE IMMORTAL SOULS, UNREST WORK & PLAY,THE TAPE BEATLES,THIS KIND OF PUNISHMENT,SWOLLEN MONKEYS (Ralph Carney) LIARS, SNAPPED ANKLES, CAVERN ANTI-MATTER, GANG GANG DANCE, THE DAMAGE MANUAL,THE BLACK ANGELS,SCOUT NIBLET,DIE FORM,LONELADY,COP SHOOT COP,WAR ON DRUGS,THE MONKS,TIM HUEY,TRACHTENBURG FAMILY,THE TRIFFIDS,THE CRUEL SEA,THE MEKONS,THE METOD ACTORS,THE SOFT BOYS,THE MISTAKES,THE MOUNTAIN GOATS,THE NEW CREATION, BRUCE HAACK, LOREN MAZZACANE CONNORS,GLEN BRANCA,ALBERT MARCOEUR,LOS ANGELES FREE MUSIC SOCIETY, SHELLEY HIRSCH,NEW YORK GONG,THE POLYPHONIC SPREE,LYDIA LUNCH,LOVE, LUCIA PAMELA,FATIMA MIRANDA,SAFETY SCISSOR S,RICHARD HELL & VOIDOIDS, SACCHARINE TRUST, ADAM FORKNER of [[[[VVRSSNN]]] YUME BITSU, ROY MONTGOMERY,RUN ON, LOVELY LITTLE GIRLS,SAFETY SCISSORS, BRIDE OF NO NO,TONE DOGS,TREAT HER RIGHT,TRIPOD JIMMIE,LIFTER PULLER,THEY MIGHT BY GIANTS,GANG OF FOUR,THE POP GROUP, WIRE, JOSEPH K, ORANGE JUICE, RAIN PARADE, THE GREEN ON REED, THE RENDERS,SOUL COUGHING-MIKE DOUGHTY, MAZARIN, KARATE- GEOFF FARINA, SECRET STARS,THE CHURCH, BLANK DOGS, FROG EYES, JOAN OF ARC, PURE X, YUNG WU,WAKE OOLOO, SPEED THE PLOUGH, DRIVE BY TRUCKERS, CAMPER VAN BEETHOVEN, MARTIN NEWELL, ERLAND and The CARNIVAL, CRIPPLED BLACK PHOENIX,CALIFONE,RED RED MEAT, LOW, Eels, LOWER DENS,THE BLACK HEART PROCESSION, KING MISSILE, THE NOTWIST, CLINIC, QUICKSPACE,THE COMSAT ANGELS,THE ASSOCIATES, EZRA FURMAN and THE HARPOONS, EFF BARZELAY, BORN RUFIANS, FERGUS & GERONIMO, CHAIN AND THE GANG-IAN SEVENONIOUS-WEIRD WAR-THE MAKE UP,ESCAPIST,MOONFACE, DEAN BLUNT,COLLEEN,ZERO 7,THREE MILE PILOT,LIFE WITHOUT BUILDINGS, CLOUD CULT,BLACKOUT BEACH,PINBACK,ARIEL PINK,MAGIC HOUR,MAJOR STARS, MAPS & ATLASES, MEGAFAUN,MENOMENA,TAME IMPALA, AMPS FOR CHRIST,ARBOURETUM,TRUE WIDOW,NANA GRIZOL,TIMBER TIMBRE,THE, IMPOSSIBLE SHAPES,THE LOVE EVERYTHING,THE MAE SHI, DEAD SKELETONS,THE SHIPPING NEWS,NEW WET KOJAK,GIRLS AGAINTS BOYS,LES SAVY FAV,GERMAN SHEPHERDS,SILKWORM,DIANOGAH,31 KNOTS,90 DAY MEN, 17 PYGMIES,PARENTHETICAL GIRLS, GUN OUTFIT,VAMPIRE RODENTS, PUMA JAW-PINKIE MACLURE and JOHN WILLS, SLUG GUTS, DOG FACED HERMANS, GOD IS MY CO-PILOT, THE SKULL DEFEKTS, CUL de SAC, PELL MELL, FOR CARNATION, MARVIN PONTIAC, ARIEL PINK, FLAT WORMS, AMEN DUNES, IDDLES, WAXAHATCHEE, WOLF PARADE, SUN KILL MOON, NATALIE PRESS ,CHELSEA WOLFE, SHILPA RAY, INCA SILVER, IBEYI, ANGEL OLSEN,THE COMET IS COMING,SLEAFORD MODS, VAGABOND, SUUNS, MADONNATRON, BIG THIEF, FAT, SHAME, SAVAGES, ICEAGE, OMNI, PARQUET COURTS, WHITE FAMILY, LYDA HUSIK, SHARON VAN ETTEN, dEUS, MITSKI, LAUREL HALO,JULIA HOLTER, MARISSA NADLER, JOSEPHINE FOSTER,TRACY BRYANT, MALE GAZE, TY SEGALL,THEE OH SEES, TYVEK, GOAT, WAND,YUCK, THE MOONLANDINGZ, VIET CONG, OUGHT, ALLAH-LAS,THE FRESH & ONLYS, WHITE FENCE, LAURA MARLING, EMA, PHAEDRA, LHASA, FIRST AID KIT, JANE WEAVER, WYE OAK, CAROLINER AKA CAROLINER RAIBOW ... E gosto de viajar, andar de bicicleta, de comboios, de animais.... não gosto de pessoas superficiais... sem cultura.Gosto de dança, de arte o que quer que isso seja!. Não gosto da monotonia. Gosto de criticar no sentido positivo. Não gosto de sonhar em ficar rico. Gosto do “Vive cada dia como se fosse o último “. Não gosto de despedidas. Gosto de pormenores.Gosto de perfumes. Não gosto de mentir nem que me mintam, não suporto hipócritas.Gosto do mar. Não gosto de quem não acredita em nada e não se importa com nada e tem a profundidade de uma colher... Gosto de viajar, gosto de ajudar e de saber que pude ser útil a alguém em qualquer coisa. Não gosto da efemeridade da vida e da constante lembrança da proximidade da morte. Não gosto de não perceber. Não gosto de atrasos e de quem não é capaz de cumprir as suas promessas, não gosto de quem volta atrás com a sua palavra e ainda menos que voltem atrás comigo. Não gosto da cusquice.Gosto de amigos e da camaradagem, não gosto das” amizades “que se perdem por coisas que no final das contas não significam nada... Gosto de palavras e de conversas sem fim... Gosto de pessoas originais, com humor,com ideias próprias... e com classe. Não gosto de carinho quando estou nervoso.Gosto do campo. Não gosto de seguir a onda.Gosto de coisas pouco claras, mas bem esclarecidas. Gosto de dominar. Não gosto de brincar com os sentimentos dos outros.Gosto de toques e de trocas de olhar, de demonstrações de carinho e de cenas sensuais. Não gosto de ficar bêbado até dizer a verdade. Gosto da grandeza das coisas simples, e gosto de coisas complicadas mas não gosto de complicações... O comum não me atrai, gosto normalmente de coisas que passam despercebidas... Gosto de gostar e de não gostar de tudo isto e muito mais...

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ladyblastexecution · 4 years

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-`Deity Of Light´- K.D X F!Reader

The threat of rain meant one thing, you were not coming over today.

Kaminari looked up to the clouds covering the sun and frowned. His day off hadn’t gone over like he planned.

First off, his favorite bakery had run out of the croissants he had craved all week, and he had to drink his coffee with a raisin cookie, then when he went home and was ready to cook, his apartment filed with smoke as his pizza was burnt to a crisp. Around noon, when was the time you came around to say hi to your favorite mortal and play Mortal Kombat, the sky turned dark, and the wind picked up.

‘This day can’t go worse.’

As that thought appeared in his head, his whole world was engulfed in darkness. Just what he needed... A blackout. If he was planning to distract himself from your absence with video games or one of those dumb movies he liked, now it was out the window.

It was dumb, really. He still had a hard time believing he knew a real deity. You were such a cool person to hang out with and the fact that you found his plain and Mortal self amusing was surreal.

Almost an entire year had passed since he met you on a sunny day where he was patrolling. If he closed his eyes, he could hear the sounds of sirens and screams of the civilians that were terrified of the villain with a snake like quirk. The heroes were struggling to keep him at bay, it’s monstrous size and flexibility difficult’d things. Kaminari had been injured while attempting to stop him, the villain’s fangs grazed his arm and it left him unable to move from the neck down. He was sure he was going to die under the huge scaly body, and almost all of the heros were in the same position as him.

Kaminari tasted the metallic taste of pure horror in his tongue and as he saw the impending doom of the end of the snake’s tail coming down to crush his body, but then the sky opened up, and in a halo of gold a figure came down, speeding at an alarming rate toward the ground.. Kaminari could only open his eyes in horror, believing that, whoever it was, they there was no chance of them surviving the impact.

At the last second, the figure stopped, hovering a few inches off the ground, above Kaminari, protecting him. You wore a sheer gown that seemed to be made of pure light, feet bare and not a speck of dirt could be seen on your body. With your hair appearing to flow as if it was under water, a crown made of two branches laurel rested on your temples, framing your face.

You were ethereal, and he felt his brain lag, with a similar effect from when he overused his quirk.

With a hand up to the sky you let a blast of blinding light that burned a hole in the snake’s body, preventing it from colliding on both of you. A spray of green blood sprayed, and you threw herself on top of his body, shielding him from the impact.

A sizzling sound came from everywhere the fluid met, and he realized it was acid. And you just had taken a shit ton of it on your back. Wincing, you got up and blasted another attack, aiming to the head this time, while maintaining the protective stance in front of his sprawled body. From that perspective, Kaminari could admire your bare back, where iridescent scars, that sparkled under the sun covered almost the entire surface He was surprised to find them and instead of being disturbing, they had a heroic feel to them. thick trails of smoke rose through the air, emanating from the scorched tears on her skin and golden liquid cascaded down your back, pooling the iridescent fabric of your gown and sticking it to her form.

A deafening squeal of pain reverberated in the air, and the snake’s upper body slithered in agony. Your light had met the snake’s eyes, and you smirked, skin literally glowing from within. But as soon as the corner of your lips went up, they came down, because the snake’s fauces barreled towards both. Grunting, your arms pushed him away, and his heart clenched when you were swallowed whole.

Everything felt lost, the ray of hope that appeared when you hurt the beast, extinguished like a cigarette under someone’s boot.

The screeching sound that the snake released seemed delighted and as its bifid tongue ran through its lips, almost as if it could still taste you on them, Kaminari noticed something bulging, and expanding the skin in the mid drift of the monster.

The surrounding air seemed to heat up, oscillating in waves that disturbed the sight, the image of the snake wobbling, as if it was a reflection of itself in one of those silly mirrors they usually had in fairs.

The commotion stirred something in him, but the monster was oblivious to it all, too focused on its joy and apparent victory to notice or even feel that something was off. At least until a blinding ray of pure white pierced its skin.

The smell of burning flesh and the humming sound of the surge of power rose the hairs on Kaminari’s arms and his stomach dropped at the sight of green blood oozing out and dissolving the pavement below, craters being formed. The wails of the thing grew in volume before it came crushing down, it’s long body twitching for a few seconds until going completely still. Kaminari held his breath, expecting the reptile to lounge at someone, but the only thing that assaulted him was the solemn silence that followed after a shocking event. Even the humming of a fly’s wings could be heard.

His body was still deemed useless, and no matter how much he wished to go in there and rip your body from the beast entrains with his bare hands, he was stuck as a bystander, observing in the sidelines as those heros that could still move took the reins of the situation.

The hushed voices of the pros were not enough to drown the groaning that preceded your emerging from the pile of charred meet.

Fabric torn and body painted golden, there you stood tall and proud, stretching your shoulders like you had just finished a workout.

“Fucking Phyton, and his resolve to make my life even more complicated...” He saw you sigh while trying to wipe the stream of gold out of her eyes. Even battered and torn, you were the most beautiful creature he had laid his eyes upon. “Oh, shit... Here, let me help you ChargeBolt sir.”

Squatting down next to him with the grace of a ballerina,yourr fingers rested on top of his forehead, and a sudden feeling of calmness numbed his mind. With a warm flutter in his chest, he wondered if you were in reality an angel of death, and if what he was feeling was that story he always heard from those who had experienced a close to death experience. Because all he could see was light.

It took a few seconds of his lethargic brain processing to realize. It wasn’t a light what he was seeing per se; it was your body, shining like the sun, but in a way that his eyes didn’t burn while looking directly at it. Images of him laying beneath the sunlight at the beach flashed in his mind, and if he closed his eyes for a second, he had a similar sensation right in that moment.

Then, as if he was a solar panel and you were the very sun charging him up, a wave of energy he never experienced drummed beneath his skin.

Opening his eyes, your face was the first thing that he saw, hair cascading around your head as you leaned over him, and his fingers twitched for him to caress the strands and confirm if they were as soft as they seemed.

Then it dawned on him.

His body no long felt disconnected from his brain, In fact, he felt every single thing, including the goosebumps that invaded his skin everywhere your eyes met.

Tentatively, he sat up, afraid to fall right on his back and make a bigger fool out of himself. After confirming he felt good, even better than before hell broke loose, he opened his mouth.

“Just how many quirks do you have!?” His sentence came out louder than he intended, and he wanted to sew his mouth shut when you flinched back a little, but the serene smile you sent his way eased his nerves

“Wouldn’t you like to know...” You teased, with crinkles by your eyes.

“Seriously, how did you do all that?” he stood up, and towered above your frame “Anyone else could’ve died...”

“Oh! That reminds me...” Interrupting him, and turning around, you willed a scepter out of nowhere and tapped it in the ground with force.

The floor shook and for a second he feared another threat was around the corner. A crack on the floor appeared beneath what was the remains of the villain, and just like that, what once was a frightening monster, now was disappearing to the center of the earth.

Kaminari’s heart stopped for a second as he saw you lean dangerously over the edge of the abyss, and he rushed to grab your arm just in case a breeze blew past and threw you off balance. A zap coursed through his skin once he made contact, and he wondered if that’s what it felt like to be electrified by his quirk.

“Thanks Uncle Dis!” you called out

The ground melded back together in a second and there was no evidence let of it ever being torn.

Kaminari tried to keep his cool, and after living in a world where everything was possible because of the diversity of existing quirks, he thought nothing could ever disturb him anymore. But after only five minutes of knowing you, that was rendered false.

“Okay... Now I would like to have an explanation sunshine.... Who exactly are you?”

“You just said it cutie...” Winking at him and outstretching your hand, you flashed him the brightest smile he ever saw. “I’m Delian, or Smintheus, or Loxias, or Pythan, or Apollo or any of the names you people had given me through the years, but now I mostly go by (Y/n), deity of the Sun, Nice to meet you”

Kaminari Cringed at the memory of what happened next and tried to think of something else to ease the embarrassment that came after your introduction.

Snapping out of his remisicing Kaminari walked outside, sitting in the porche and he noticed the sunflowers you planted on his frontyard seemed to be lacking a bit of water.

He never understood why you had done that, if he had to guess he would’ve said your favorite plant would’ve been a bay tree, since it was the plant most associated with you and all that, but when you brought the four sprouts on your hands a few months prior, excitement making your skin flow and your body to flutter off the ground, he contained his teasing, too entranced by your beauty to say anything to sour your mood.

“Denki my dude! Look what I got for you straight from the underworld!” Your smile lighted up his whole house, literally. And Kaminari felt a blush rise to his cheeks over how pretty you looked.

Now those tiny sprouts grew and got up to his waist, their yellow petals were an unnatural bright yellow, courtesy of Persephone herself. He was ashamed to admit how much he liked those sunflowers, even as much as he liked you.

He was known for having a fascination with pretty girls, but you just went ahead and ruined him forever. Everyone he saw paled in comparison, and it wasn’t fair for the rest of the world. You were literally a Deity. Your beauty was something no mortal could achieve.

And whenever he tried to flirt, you always said something along the lines of

“Nah, you should see Aphrodite, your brain would fry instantly”

The forced easy laugh that usually followed was enough of a proof to know that, no matter how extraordinary you could be, you were still insecure.

On one of your sleepovers, when the sun was down and you were weaker, you shared your secrets with him. How every relationship you tried to maintain failed, every god, demigod, nymph and human abandoning you. You were aware of the Myths humans told about you, but since they said you were Male, he started doubting every tale that circulated with your name.

“I wish you would’ve been around on the golden era... The old olympic games would’ve been your shit, naked wrestling, bodies slick with olive oil...”

“Wow, Sunshine. If you so desperately want to see me naked all you had to do was ask.” Kaminari joked, expecting one of your quick comebacks, but seeing your cheeks glow golden, in the way the deity of light blushed, he felt a flutter on his chest. A small ray of hope.

“Don’t be dumb, Denki. All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t have been as lonely if I had you then.” You rolled your eyes, portraying annoyance, but he knew it was only to mask your embarrassment.

Almost without him noticing, he fell for you, hard. As hard as the Python did under your unwavering power. And the realization filed him with equal amounts of dread and joy.

In love with a goddess, who would’ve thought, huh?

Never in his wildest dreams he saw himself feeling as strongly for someone as he did for you. Yes, the ocassional crushes were there, but they always seemed to have fade into nothing just like an ice cube on a hot summer day.

Kaminari couldn’t even look at the sky without thinking about you. Even when the clouds were thick and the thunders made the glass of his window rattle, whenever he looked above, he imagined you there, looking down at him and winking, as a way of encouraging him in his everyday tasks that seemed so mundane. The life of a pro hero is far from dull, but it still paled compared to a literal deity.

Kaminari sat outside, growling at the dark sky that killed his chance at seeing you. He felt the cold breeze caressed his face and violently rock his sunflowers. They were sad looking at that moment, almost a perfect reflection of how he was feeling on the inside, crestfallen and slumping down, facing the dirt, with no sun to make them happy.

He sighed and rested his head on his bents knees, trying to focus on anything instead of the empty feeling on his chest. He hated being so attached to you, but every time he thought of your face, so close that he could feel the air out of your lungs tickle his nose, the same thought invaded him.

How could he not be?

You were warm and shiny in every sense of the word, Your heart was as gold as your blood and you never showed anything but care and -he hoped- love. Maybe not in the way he wanted it, because hell, the need to hold your hand just because he could, and kiss your lips to see your cheeks shine is all he ever dreamt of ever since he met you, but how would it work?

You were a Goddes, a supernatural being. Immortal.

You saw millions of humans come and go, and the wicked fantasy of you being in love from someone of your past, and never looking at him ever again always woke him up with a startle in the middle of the night, sheets drenched in sweat and heart thrumming in his ribcage.

Another Thunder boomed, this time closer, so close in fact that Kaminari felt the static buzzing on his skin, making him sit straight because of the jumpscare.

His eyes laid on the sky and he scowled once again, the rain clouds were closer and so thick that swallowed any remains of sunbeams, turning everything a somber shade of gray, dulling the colors of everything, including his sunflowers, that now were facing straight at him.

Wait...

Since when the sunflowers were like that? There was no sun for them to seek for. He was disturbed by this, but still, he couldn’t ponder on it much.

The heavyweight of a pair of hands on his shoulders, accompanied by a hushed “boo” on his ear, tore a high-pitched shriek out of Kaminari’s insides.

The sweet sound of your laugh followed right after, the beginning drowned by his terrified outburst, but the end infiltrated his ears and flowed like honey through his body.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” He asked, glancing upwards to the somber dark sheet covering the sky. You were smiling so bright it almost hurt his eyes, but one look over your body later he noticed the charred ends of your dress and the frizz sticking your hair up in all weird directions, leaving you as a bad Simba wannabe. “What happened to you?” Concern laced his voice, and he saw your smile falter. Doubt misting your eyes as your posture visibly tensed.

“Well, it’s actually a funny story...” You laughed shakily, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, going the extra mile to wave a hand, but he didn’t miss the way your fingers shook or the tense lines at the side of your mouth. “Let’s say the pissy prick I call father is against me spending so much time with mortals, and we had a bit of an... arterncate, you could say.” You were a bundle of nerves, and even the usual crown you sported was hanging crooked on your head.

Kaminari felt a cold hand clasping his heart at the implications of that that meant. Your encounters needed to stop, you were there to say goodbye and disappear from his life. He masked his pain with a soft smile and took a step closer, hands going to fix the mess on top of your head.

“It’s okay... I never thought the all mighty Apollo, Phyton, Loxias Del-Delos was it?...” He stopped, brows furrowed as he tried to remember the first time you spoke to him. word by word.

“Delian...” You corrected, eyes soft and tension melting off your face, a small twitch in the corner of your mouth made it look like you were almost smiling.

“Right, Delian, or (Y/N), Or Sunshine... Would want to spend her time playing Mortal Kombat with a loser like me...” His smile was still there, but the corners twitched down for a second, letting you see the insecurity that laied beyond his cool facade

Seeing him like that left you stunned. Eyes shimmering with an emotion he couldn’t quite read, and when his fingers finished arranging your hair the way it usually was, he rested his palms on your shoulders, squeezing a little just to remember that you were still there for a little.

Your fingers enveloped his wrist and the both of you just stood there, lost in the sad atmosphere as the wind picked up around you, and the lights flashed dangerously in the sky. Kaminari felt his chest constrict with the words he so desperately wanted to throw out there, but your fight with your dad sealed his lips.

Now there was no point in trying anything beyond the months of fun and jokes you shared.

“Thank you for teaching me how to use Kotal Kahn, Bakugou is so pissed about how I suddenly got so good at it... Sorry I couldn’t do the same about Raiden.”

“Why is this suddenly sounding like a goodbye?” You asked, with your throat tight and tears glimmering in your eyelashes, like little diamonds suspended forever in there.

“You shouldn’t anger your father Sunshine...” He said, grasping a lock of hair that was flying in front of your face, victim of the merciless wind. His knuckles brushed your cheekbone as he placed the stubborn silky strand behind your ear. You held your breath upon contact.

Your fingers enveloped his, keeping them trapped in between your cheek and your hand, with a grip that would be almost painful if he weren’t used to your unearthly strength.

He watched you crumble underneath his fingers, eyes flashing raw pain behind them.

Then, just like when you had healed him months back, he saw resolve and vigor replace that sad expression, brows furrowing and fire dancing behind your eyes, and it was all unleashed by his gentle hands cradling your face.

“No...” You whispered, leaning back away from him, but still holding on to his wrist like he was a lifeline in the middle of a turbulent sea.

“(Y/N)... I think...”

“No Denki!” She circled around him and stood in the middle of his front yard, looking straight up at the storm above and with cheeks glowing from anger. “You what to know what I think?” She turned to him, pointing an accusatory finger up the sky.

The warning of a flood of lightning made him take a step forwards to warn you, but a zap charred the earth missing his feet by only a few inches. His quirk was electric and a normal lightning couldn harm him, but he wasn’t sure those rules applied with the fucking god of lightning, Zeus.

“I’m tired of feeing like there’s something wrong with me, because there’s not...” The sky rumbled and a flash of blue descended, deathly close to her figure.

Kaminari searched everywhere to find a solution in this situation. Certainly a fight between two gods on his porch wasn’t ideal.

Your scoff brought his attention back to you and he saw your arms flying around, a halo of golden unclasping your body, your emotions breaking your control over your power.

“No, dad, certainly what happened with that demigod years back wasn’t my fault. Eros was just a dick and you know it... Why don’t you make the same scandal when Aphrodite comes down here and mingles with mortals?” Another set of lights burned through the sky and you laughed incredulously. ”Now you worry about the blood not mixing with mortals? Yes, hi... Do you remember Hercules, You Demigod Son!? Stop behaving like a child!”

Kaminari sucked a breath in after your insult towards the god, and rightfully so, because half a heartbeat later, a lightning bigger than he ever thought possible coursed through the sky and impacted with your body. He saw your silouette through the blinding light, and for a moment he feared the worst. He never felt a power like this, every hair in his body raising and a wave of nausea destabilizing him.

“Pretty fucking mature dad, really...” You were still alive, and as he leaned on his knees hunched over and panting another wave of emotion hit him through the chest. Even with smoke flowing up like black tendrils around you from your gown and grime staining your cheeks, it only seemed to enhance the way you shone. “I don’t care, and you shouldn’t either, no one else does! Uncle Dis even said he liked him, and that is saying something... Just please dad. I never asked for anything, just this once. Let me choose who I love...” Your voice was so brittle and frail he believed he had imagined it.

And then he realized... You said it, the word he wanted so desperately to shout on your face but to afraid of the consequences. You loved him... You, Apollo, Loxian, Delos, or whatever, you loved him, and even if you didn’t said it to him, the implication was as clear as day.

Kaminari forgot about everything else. The threat of being reduced to ashes a, the rage of your father above, the way his insecurities had kept him from showering you in affection like he longed to, all of that faded to the back of his mind, the only thing clear was you. You standing in front of him, only a few feet apart.

You, that loved him.

He was by your side, and almost in a daze his fingers found yours, holding them in a gentle yet firm hold. The warmth of your skin soothed his locked joints, and he took a breath in. Opting not to say anything, but let his actions speak for himself.

You looked up at him and beamed, drawing strength out of nowhere just by his sole presence. Both looked up at the sky, that turned a murderous shade of purple, just like the bruising he might have in his body if he survived turning into Zeus shooting toy.

“Father, this is not something I’m backing out of, and since the Olympians came into an agreement of not snooping their noses into other’s business, I’m staying here with Denki as long as I please.” You turned to him, hesitation written all over your face, and a flimsy peak of that ugly insecurity you had showed itself in your eyes. “If you want, of course...?”

It came out more of a question than a statement, as if you were subconsciously begging for reassurance.

He leaned in, his lips grazing the skin of your forehead, soft as a feather, but it left a burning sensation on his mouth. Your cheeks were shining bright, but a dumbstruck smile was plastered on your face.

“That is final, father. I took your opinion into consideration because I respect you, but if you try to do something funny, I won’t hesitate to ask Uncles Dis and Sai to interfere.” The sky grumbled one last time, and Kaminari Imagined it had to be reflection of Zeus own grumble of defeat.

If he admired you before when you took down Python, now he was awestruck at your strength and determination.

You deflated like a balloon and sat down on the grass, where blackened grass stained the skin of your legs. Letting a small incredulous laugh, you looked up at him, eyes open and so full of emotion. The tension that once constricted your whole body was now gone, and your whole body seemed to glow.

“I can’t believe that actually worked...” You muttered, wiping a hand across your forehead but never dropping the smile.

Kaminari sat down next to you and circled your shoulders with his arm.

“So... You just wanted your daddy dear to let you choose who to love?” Teasing you wasn’t the most sensible thing to do after the rollercoaster of emotions you two rode nearly a minute before, but it was his way of dealing with stress. Whatever the reason may be, it was worth if he could get to see your flustered face.

“Yeah, I’ve been feeling some kind f way towards this Ground Zero dude... It may be worth the shot” You teased right back, and in it felt like nothing ever changed between the both of you- even after the biggest confession- everything felt natural, no nerves burning inside other than the usual warm flutter on his chest when he saw your face.

He pondered on saying those three little words, but feeling how relaxed you were, with your face tucked in between his shoulder and neck, breath fanning over his jaw, he resolved against it.

The sense of knowing both of you were on the same page was enough for now.

Groaning, you got up, and extended your hand towards him, pulling him up and letting your touch linger a heartbeat longer than necessary.

“Man, I’m beat...” You stretched your back, smiling when a ‘pop’ filled the air. “Can we pretty please play MKX? I need to beat Raiden’s ass right now?

“I always thought you were crazy good at it, but turns out you were just motivated by imagining Raiden as your dad, weren’t you?”

There was no need to respond. The humor shining in the side glance you gave him and your crooked smile said it all.

As you passed by the sunflowers, he saw them turn around, facing you no matter how fast you were going. He stopped in his tracks and observed how they bent in an impossible angle trying to face you.

When you realized he wasn’t following behind, you sent a look behind your back.

“What’s wrong Denki?” You asked walking back up at him, the yellow petals following around like a shadow.

“Can you walk back to the door? I want to see something...” He said, fascinated by the reaction you had over them.

Confused, you did as he said, taking slow strides, trying to figure out what was he on to now, until you followed Kaminari’s gaze and noticed it too. Exited, you ran, twirled and crouched, trying to see if in deed they were turning to you. You giggled like a kid opening a present and turn to him.

“I didn’t know they were always looking at me...” You whispered in awe, caressing the yellow petals fondly. Your eyes gleamed under the sun’s light. The clouds long forgotten on the horizon, letting the rays finally warm up his skin. Your crown was lopped again, but it gave you an air of mischief instead of nerves, and Kaminari prayed his mouth was closed and not gaping like a fish. You never failed to knock the air out of his lungs.

“They’re not the only ones that do...”

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minervacasterly · 3 years

Text

TAMERLANE

“KIND solace in a dying hour! Such, father, is not (now) my theme- I will not madly deem that power Of Earth may shrive me of the sin Unearthly pride hath revell’d in- I have no time to dote or dream: You call it hope-that fire of fire! It is but agony of desire: If I can hope-Oh God! I can- Its founder is holier –more divine- I would not call thee fool, old man, But such is not a gift of thine. Know thou the secret of a spirit Bow’d from its wild pride into shame. O! yearning heart! I did inherit Thy withering portion with the fame, The searing glory which hath shone Amid the jewels of my throne, Halo of Hell! And with a pain Not Hell shall make me fear again- O! craving heart, for the lost flowers And sunshine of my summer hours! Th’ undying voice of that dead time, With its interminable chime, Rings, in the spirit of a spell, Upon thy emptiness – a knell.

I have not always been as now: The fever’d diadem on my brow I claim’d and won usurpingly- Hath not the same fierce heirdom given Rome to the Caesar –this to me? The heritage of a kingly mind, And a proud spirit which hath striven Triumphantly with human kind.

On mountain soil I first drew life: The misfits of the Taglay have shed Nightly their dews upon my head, And, I believe, the winged strife And tumult of the headlong air Have nestled in my very hair.

So late from Heaven –that dew- it fell (Mid dreams of an unholy night) Upon me –with the touch of Hell, While the red flashing of the light From clouds that hung, like banners, o’er, Appeared to my half-closing eye The pageantry of monarchy, And the deep trumpet-thunder’s roar Came hurriedly upon me, telling Of human battle, where my voice, My own voice, silly child! –was swelling (O! how my spirit would rejoice, And leap within me at the cry) The battle-cry of Victory! The rain came down upon my head Unshelter’d –and the heavy wind Was giantlike –so thou, mind!- It was but man, I thought, who shed Laurels upon me: and the rush- The torrent of the chilly air Gurgled within my ear the crush Of Empires –with the captive’s prayer- The hum of suiters –and the tone Of flattery ‘round a sovereign’s throne.

My passions, from that hapless hour, Usurp’d a tyranny which men Have deem’d, since I have reach’d to power; My innate nature –be it so: But, father, there live’d one who, then, Then =in my bouhood- when their fire Burn’d with a still intenser glow, (For passion must, with youth, expire) E’en then who knew this iron heart In woman’s weakness had a part.

I have no words –alas!- to tell The loveliness of loving well! Nor would I now attempt to trace The more than beauty of a face Whose lineaments, upon my mind, Are –shadows on th’ unstable wind: Thus I remember having dwelt Some page of early lore upon, With loitering eye, till I have felt The letters –with their meaning- melt To fantasies- with none.

O, she was worth of all love! Love –as infancy was mine- ‘Twas such as angel minds above Might envy; her young heart the shrine On which my ev’ry hope and thought Were incense –then a goodly gift, For they were childish –and upright- Pure –as her young example taught: Why did I leave it, and, adrift, Trust to the fire within, for light?

We grew in age –and love- together, Roaming the forest, and the wild; My breast her shield in wintry weather- And, when the friendly sunshine smil’d And she would mark the opening skies, I saw no Heaven –but in her eyes.

Young Love’s first lesson is –the heart: For’mid that sunshine, and those smiles, When, from our little cares apart, And laughing at the her girlish wiles, I’d throw me on her throbbing breast, And pour my spirit out in tears- There was no need to speak the rest- No need to quiet any fears Of her –who ask’d no reason why, But turn’d on me her quiet eye!

Yet more than worthy of the love My spirit struggled with, and strove, When, on the mountain peak, aone, Ambition let it a new tone- I had no being- but in thee: The world, and all it did contain In the earth –the air- the sea- Its joy –its little lot of pain That was new pleasure –the ideal, Dim, vanities of dreams by night- And dimmer nothings which were real- (Shadows- and a more shadowy light!) Parted upon their misty wings, And, so, confusedly became Thine image, and –a name- a name! Two separate –yet most intimate things.

I was ambitious –have you known The passion, father? You have not: A cottager, I mark’d a throne Of half the world as all my own, And murmur’d at such lowly lot- But, just like any other dream, Upon the vapour of the dew My own had past, did not the beam Of beauty which did while it thro’ The minute –the hour- the day- oppress My mind with double loveliness.

We walk’d together on the crown Of a high mountain which look’d down Afar from its proud natural towers Of rock and forest, on the hills - The dwindled hills! Begirt with bowers And shouting with a thousand rills.

I spoke to her of power and pride, But mystically –in such guise That she might deem it nought beside The moment’s converse; in her eyes I read, perhaps too carelessly- A mingled feeling with my own- The flush on her bright cheek, to me Seem’d to become a queenly throne Too well that I should let it be Light in the wilderness alone.

I wrapp’d myself in grandeur then, And donn’d a visionary crown- Yet it was not that Fantasy Had thrown her mantle over me- But that, among the rabble- men, Lion ambition is chan’d down- And crouches to a keeper’s hand- Not so in deserts where the grand The wild –the terrible conspire With their own breath to fan his fire. Look ‘round thee now on Samarcand!- Is not she queen of Earth? Her pride Above all cities? In her hand Their destinies? in all beside Of glory which the world hath known Stands she not nobly and alone? Falling –her veriest stepping-stone Shall form the pedestal of a throne- And who her sovereign? Timour –he Whom the astonished people saw Striding o’er empires haughtily A diadem’d outlaw – O! human love! Thou spirit given, On Earth, of all we hope in Heaven! Which fall’st into the soul like rain Upon the Siroc wither’d plain, And failing in thy power to bless But leav’st the heart a wilderness! Idea! Which blindest life around With music of so strange a sound And beauty of so wild a birth- Farewell! For I have won the Earth!

When Hope, the eagle that tower’d, could see No cliff beyond him in the sky, His pinions were bent droppingly- And homeward turn’d his softn’d eye. ‘Twas sunset: when the sun will part There comes a sullenness of heart To him who still would look upon The glory of the summer sun. That soul will hate the ev’ning mist, So often lovely, and will list To the sound of the coming darkness (known To those whose spirits hearken) as one Who, in a dream of night, would fly But cannot from a danger night.

What tho’ the moon –the white moon Shed all the splendor of her noon, Her smile is chilly –and her beam, In that time of dreariness, will seem (So like you gather in your breath) A portrait taken after death. And boyhood is a summer sun Whose waning is the dreariest one- For all we live to know is known, And all we seek to keep hath flown- Let life, then, as the day-flower, fall With the noon-day beauty- which is all.

I reach’d my home –my home no more- For all had flown who made it so- I pass’d from out its mossy door, And, tho’ my tread was soft and low, A voice came from the threshold stone Of one whom I had earlier known- O! I defy thee, Hell, to show On beds of fire that burn below, A humble heart –a deeper wo- Father, I firmly do believe- I know –for Death, who comes for me From regions of the blest afar, Where there is nothing to deceive, Hath left his iron gate ajar, And rays of truth you cannot see Are flashing thro’ Eternity- I do believe that Eblis hath A snare in ev’ry human path- Else how, wen in the holy grove I wandered of the idol, Love, Who daily scents his snow wings With incense of burnt offerings From the most unpolluted things, Whose pleasant bowers are yet so riven Above with trelliced rays from Heaven No mote may shun –no tiniest fly The light’nin of his eagle eye- How was it that Ambition crept, Unseen, amid the revels there, Till growing bold, he laughed and leapt In the tangles of Love’s very hair?”

- from TAMERLANE & OTHER POEMS (posthumously July 1827) by Edgar Allan Poe

#Edgar Allan Poe #poetry #poem #Tamerlane

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leigheaux-venere · 3 years

Text

Behind Enemy Ties 4 - Much Ado About Knothing

It took three days and a lot of attention from Loren, Josh, and Davis for Carlyn to get over his time with Johann. He was insatiable during those three days, and miserable because of it. Carlyn hated being demanding, it made him feel like his mother's son, but his body was roaring, furious he'd let Johann go with fucking him senseless. His words to Johann came echoing back at him.

It's like there's this disconnect in their heads between what they know they want, and what they’ll allow an alpha to do, he'd told Johann, mystified.

But now it was his own body betraying him, demanding things from him that he didn't want to act on.

Betas are the only sensible people, Johann had said, and Carlyn wondered if it wasn't right.

Yet, his harem seemed content to baby him, bring him cold water and hot meat when he felt like drinking or eating, and otherwise taking turns letting him ravish them, sometimes two at a time to keep his mouth busy, until he was too tired to move and fell asleep, once while still inside one of them.

Carlyn did what little work he could manage from home, overseeing details of The Fangs operation, and receiving his sub-bosses in his bedroom.

On the third day at home, Lyric, curious to know what happened with the robbery at the compound, arrived at the house. Carlyn received her in his bedroom with all of his harem, still naked from sleeping. Lyric assumed what she wanted about what had happened with Johann, and Carlyn let her assumptions stand uncorrected. In any case, she was delighted.

“Finally acting like an alpha, little brother,” Lyric said. “I’m proud of you.”

Carlyn took her compliment with a smile-like wince and wondered if she considered at all what Johann had or hadn't consented to. Lyric stayed for a few hours, had dinner, and looked over the cleanup details of the compound before leaving. Alone with his harem, Carlyn was ready to settle in for the evening. He was dead tired.

Then the doorbell rang. Since Josh, Loren, and Davis were all curled up watching a movie, and Carlyn was up, heading for the stairs anyway, he told them not to get up and went for the door himself. He figured it was his mother or other siblings, the only people in his life who showed up unannounced to his house. But when he opened the door, he didn’t find family on the other side; he found Johann.

He wasn’t dressed in military style fatigues. He wore jeans and a t-shirt with sneakers. His dirty blond hair was loose and fell nearly to his shoulders. Carlyn hadn’t noticed it was so long or even that it had been pulled back.It made him wonder what else he failed to notice when the smell of an omega was in the air.

Johann was frowning, but he looked so good. He smelled clean, and his pheromones were low and unnoticeable.

“Johann?”

“Can I come in?” Johann asked.

“Sure.”

They walked inside. And once the door was shut and locked, Carlyn led Johann into the kitchen where they could talk.

“Glad I got dressed for dinner,” Carlyn muttered.

“Lounging naked?” Johann said. “Alphas love to show off, don’t they?”

“It’s more of a comfort thing, really. Can I get you something to drink? Ice water? Juice?”

“You’re not going to offer me wine like a fucking grown up?”

Carlyn shifted in place. “I didn’t think you’d want me to offer you alcohol.”

“Let’s not play stupid games, Carlyn,” Johann sighed. “If you’d wanted to have your way with me, you could have had it. I’m not an idiot.”

Carlyn said nothing but turned and took down two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. After pouring, he handed a glass to Johann, who drained half of it at once before licking his lips.

“That’s good.”

“Glad you like it,” Carlyn muttered, then sipped his own wine.

“The Legion wants to know what you're offering.”

“Anything you would steal, I’ll give to you.”

“And they want to know what you get out of this. Something-something instinct, isn’t an answer.”

Laughing, Carlyn swished his wine. What was he expecting to get out of this? What did he want?

“I want to know about The Lucretian Legion,” he said honestly. “I want to know what you’re up to, what your goals are, and if they interfere with The Fangs’ goals.”

“They don’t.”

“I’d believe you if you hadn’t blown a hole in one of our walls.”

“Right.” Johann muttered. “Stay here a minute.” He finished his glass and turned and walked out of the kitchen. “Hey guys,” Carlyn heard him say as passed through the living room.

Carlyn waited. In the distance, he heard the front door open and close. He sipped his glass, wondering what Johann was doing, wondering if this was the last time he’d ever see him. After a few minutes the front door opened again, then closed. Carlyn didn’t speak to Josh, Davis and Loren on his way back to the kitchen. He came in and crossed his arms over his chest.

“The Legion accepts.”

“I see.”

“There’s a condition.”

“Which is?”

Johann looked at him, and that unmistakable look of rage crossed his features for a moment. “I’ll be staying to monitor you for the length of this agreement. This… pretend bond is what we’ll go with. I’ll be your only link to The Legion. You get no other members, no locations, no nothing. You talk to them through me, or not at all. Deal?”

Carlyn kept his face neutral as that same voice inside his head from before roared in approval. “Deal,” he said. He never had to hear an omega say yes twice.

Johann’s apartment in the heart of downtown was a small, unassuming studio, perfect for a single omega all on his own. While Johann packed with the help of Josh and Davis, Loren took a long slow walk around the place, her tiny notebook and favorite pen in hand scribbling notes and making little drawings. Carlyn stood in the middle of the apartment, not touching anything, as he’d been instructed to do as they came up the stairs and trying to stay out of everyone’s way.

Carlyn would admit that he hadn’t been expecting such a cheerful place to be Johann’s home. The kitchen was bright and clean, with simple, practical dishware and organized almost Spartan cabinets with no doors on them. The bed area was tidy and under filled, with a dresser next to the closet, a mirror tucked behind a folding screen and a bed partially hidden behind a tucked curtain hanging from rollers on the ceiling. In the living area was a dining table and a few chairs behind a small sofa, both set in front of a TV. Off to the side was a set of weights, a mat, a punching bag, and a pull-up bar stand. Between the little gym and the TV, there was a bookcase filled with DVDs and tabletop games.

What the apartment did not look like the lair of a member of a radical paramilitary vigilante group. The Lucretian Legion’s coat of arms, which Johann had described as an omega symbol above two crossed swords and haloed by a laurel wreath, couldn’t be found anywhere.

When he thought about it, Carlyn supposed it made sense. Nothing connecting him to The Fangs was on display in his eight-hundred-thousand dollar, 5-bedroom manor house, because he had guests over and threw parties and that would just be stupid. Still, somehow Carlyn had expected Johann to be less subtle than he was.

“I like your place,” Carlyn called across the apartment.

“It is darling,” Loren said. “Take as much as you want. Our home is your home.”

“I like it too,” Johann muttered. “I don’t think I’ll be taking much, though. It’s not like I’ll be inviting anyone over.”

“Won’t that be suspicious?” Davis asked.

Carlyn winced as he watched Johann turn his full attention on Davis. The two omegas watched each other for a second, before Davis gave a cheeky smile and Johann sighed.

“I’ll take the games and the DVDs. There’s no point and leaving anything I like in an empty apartment anyway, I guess.”

“Sensible,” Davis agreed and went back to packing.

Deciding his input would only make Johann angry, Carlyn turned his back to the bed and wandered over to the bookshelf. He wasn’t going to touch anything. He just wanted to see what sort of interests Johann had.

“Are you going to pack that stuff?” Johann asked.

“You told me not to touch anything, so I was going to do that.”

Johann sighed. “You can pack my bookcase.”

“Alright.”

“I’ll pack the kitchen,” Loren called. “I want to unpack it as well, so I know where everything is.”

Davis, Josh, and Johann packed the bedroom and kitchen. Loren packed the kitchen. Carlyn packed the living area. The bigger items that were being brought to Carlyn’s house or to storage, they hired movers to carry. The movers were three alphas. It had been three days since their stay together, and Johann had taken several doses of Loren’s alpha repelling tonic, but he still smelled enough like Carlyn for the movers to tell what was going on -or supposed to be going- from context. Though they thankfully said nothing, they directed their questions to Carlyn, not to any of the omegas. Normally, Carlyn was fine answering for his harem. He'd never even noticed himself doing it before. However, Johann’s gaze burned into the back of his head and he knew how Johann felt about the situation.

“Ask Johann,” he kept saying.

The movers would ask Johann the question, get their answer, and ask Carlyn the next question, starting the cycle all over again. By the time they were home and seeing the movers off, Carlyn was exhausted.

He fell face-up on the sofa and closed his eyes, happy to be home. Before they’d moved Johann’s things, he’d already set up automatic payment to Johann’s account to pay for his apartment, bills, and storage lot while he was staying with him. Loren was adding Johann’s things to the kitchen, and Josh, Davis and Johann were putting away Johann’s belongings in the spare bedroom. Carlyn was just about to drift off into a nap, done for the day, when someone sat down on the sofa by his hip. He opened his eyes to find Johann sitting stiff-backed on the sofa, staring straight ahead.

“Johann?” Carlyn muttered.

“Davis told me…" Johann hesitated for a moment before going on. "He thought I should come sit with you. Josh wants to get my room ready for me as a gift and wanted me out of the way anyhow, so… You’re not fucking me! Ever!”

“We agreed to that,” Carlyn reminded Johann.

“But that means… I have to sleep in the bed with you. So I smell like you.”

The thought had actually occurred to Carlyn, but Johann was right, just living in the same house, especially one as big as his, wouldn’t be enough. They would have to sleep in the same bed some more.

“How often do I have to sleep in your bed?” Johann snapped.

“Um… a few nights a week. Maybe every other night.”

“Fine. We’ll start tonight.”

“I’m pretty beat. I was going to go to bed soon.”

“Fine.”

They said goodnight to Loren, who gave them each a kiss -Carlyn on the mouth, Johann on the forehead- then walked up the stairs together. Carlyn took a detour to Johann’s room to get his pajamas, which were shoved at him through a crack in the door, then went to his own room.

In Carlyn's bedroom, they changed together, because while they didn’t like each other, they weren’t going to act like feuding children. Carlyn considered stealing a glance at Johann, but decided against it. He didn't want to start a fight right before their first night together. Instead, he not only turned his back, but closed his eyes as well.

The smell of Johann's skin was a musky, leathery smell, like the punching bag they'd moved into the fitness room. Johann smelled faintly of sweat, as if he'd just been working out. Carlyn now noticed he always smelled like that. It differed from the members of his harem.

Loren smelled of heat and whatever she had last cooked. Josh's favorite products, cologne, shampoo, lotion, etc., hung off him in a soothing, sweet cloud like cotton candy. Davis smelled like a science lab: unsettling, sterile, of antibacterial soap and rubber gloves. Carlyn had been told by other alphas that the smell was a turn off, but for Carlyn it was Davis's smell and he loved it. It made doctor's office visits a little more stressful for him as he struggled to keep his mind off things more intimate than check-ups.

But all his harem seemed so tame compared to Johann. They smelled urbane and domesticated. Johann's scent was wild, angry, like a lightning storm to Carlyn's senses. It made the voice in Carlyn's head roar and claw.

Johann got into the bed first, climbing into the same side he’d been kept on before and making himself comfortable with aggressive movements. When he was deep under the blankets, Carlyn turned off the lights, gave his teddy bear a pat, and slipped into his side of the bed. The urge to turn his back on Johann and simply go to sleep was surprisingly strong. Not that Carlyn was uncomfortable with Johann in his bed. It was the exact opposite. It felt right. He wanted to yawn, say goodnight, and fall into a dreamless, undisturbed sleep. But this was technically business.

Edging closer, Carlyn placed an arm over Johann’s waist, who surprisingly put his arm over his.

“Don’t get any ideas, alpha. It’s just more comfortable this way.”

“We already agreed we wouldn’t have sex. There’s nothing you do, no way you could touch me, that would make me break that promise.”

“Hmph.” Johann began to dig his nails into the back of Carlyn’s hand but stopped after a moment and relaxed. “Goodnight.” Johann said with an air of finality.

“Goodnight.” Carlyn muttered. The voice in his head purred in contentment.

The next day Johann’s room still wasn’t finished, so Carlyn gave him room to dress before they went downstairs for breakfast. Loren gave the grand tour of the kitchen and pointed out where she’d put all of Johann’s things, while Johann served himself. Carlyn waited for Johann to sit down at the table to get his own breakfast.

“You can’t avoid him forever,” Loren said as she poured him a coffee. “Johann smelling like you won’t be enough for long.”

“I just want to give him some space. He’s so jumpy.”

“He’ll come around.” She handed him the coffee, then shooed him away to sit in the dining room.

Carlyn sat in his normal seat at the glass table, a place Johann must have guested at, because he was at the exact opposite side of the table. Sighing, Carlyn watched him for a moment, considering his options. After a moment, he started eating and began the conversation casually.

“You know,” he said between bites of eggs, “you can’t just smell like me and otherwise avoid me.”

“Excuse me?” Johann muttered from behind his glass of orange juice.

“I mean, if we seem to hate each other, people might get suspicious about things. Especially when I donate things to The Lucretian Legion.”

Johann was silent for several moments, eating while watching Carlyn impassively. Carlyn looked backed just as coolly, refusing to let Johann jerk him around. At last, Johann shrugged and turned his attention back to his plate.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said.

“How?” Carlyn asked.

“Never mind it. Can I go into your base with you today? We need another truck for an upcoming demonstration and I want to drop it off.”

“Fine.” Carlyn said. “Better get the base used to seeing you around, in any case.”

They finished breakfast in silence and Carlyn took their plates and glasses into the kitchen to be put into the dishwasher. He kissed Loren goodbye for the day and told her to tell Josh and Davis he loved them, then headed for the garage. Johann sat in the passenger’s seat and frowned out of the window as they pulled out of the garage.

“Last time you were in this car you were unconscious,” Carlyn said lightly.

“Fuck you,” Johann said almost light-heartedly. There was a hint of a smile or sneer is his voice, though Carlyn wasn't sure which it was.

“I’m just making conversation.”

“How about you talk about something useful? Who should I know in The Fangs? There’s that beta I saw. Never seen a beta a bunch of alphas backed away from so quickly.”

“You must mean Adison,” Carlyn laughed. “She’s terrifying. I’m pretty sure she’s the only one who could raise a coup against me, but she loves and respects me, so I’m safe. She’s whip smart, handles the first stage of organizing everything. With her at The Fangs and Loren at home, I have most of my day-to-day life plotted out for me. And she’s a fighter. She might be able to take you on, one-on-one.”

“Maybe," Johann groused. "Who else is there?”

“Along with Adison is my two other under-bosses Becka, and Raji.”

“Those assholes who helped drug me?”

“Yes, them. Becka was the whip wielding one.”

“I remember,” Johann hissed.

“She’s never hurt an omega, Johann. She asks permission before doing what she does. Verbal permission. It’s a game. She’s not bad.”

“Whatever. What’s the hardass into?”

“Raji? He’s mostly into classic music and good food. His omegas are a little spoiled. I don’t think they’ve lifted anything heavier than a wine bottle since bonding with him, but that’s how he likes them, spoiled rotten. He spends a small fortune on presents for them and their kids. He takes them on vacation once a season, right after their heat to reward them for… getting through heat, I guess.”

“Good lord, what the actual fuck?” Johann shook his head. “And I figured you thought of yourself as a fairytale princess, shining armor and all. This guy beats even you!”

“Look, I was raised very traditionally. As an alpha, I was told it was my job to provide for and protect my harem. But Raji goes overboard. He left once and was gone for a day and a half. He told me later that one of his omegas was feeling lonely because he’d been working so much, and he just felt bad about it. I almost hit him. I had just taken over and we were in the middle of turf war with the Red Wolves.”

“Can you trust this guy?”

“We have an understanding now.”

“You hit him.”

“I… yes," Carlyn admitted. "I lost my temper. I was sorry about it later. I didn’t tell him though because I could tell he respected me for standing my ground, the idiot.”

Johann let out a small chuckle. “Delightful.” He was definitely sneering.

Carlyn walked into the main house of the base with his arm around Johann’s shoulders. Johann had his arms crossed and shoulders hunched, but leaned into his embrace as if he wanted to crawl under Carlyn's shirt. The people who saw them move through the building paused at the sight of them, and a few growled their approval, smirked, or nudged Carlyn. Even though Johann said nothing and even pressed himself harder into Carlyn’s side, Carlyn knew he was seething.

“I’m sorry,” Carlyn said when they were alone in his office with the door shut.

“I didn’t expect to enjoy any of this,” Johann said. “I’m in deep cover behind enemy lines. I wasn’t expecting it to be comfortable.”

“I want it to be comfortable for you. I don’t want you to hate this. I’m supposed to be your ally. Me, if no one else.”

Johann stared at Carlyn for a moment before sighing, and a little hatred melted off his face for a moment. “You don’t know anything about the real world.”

“Maybe,” Carlyn relented. He walked around the desk and unlocked his computer with a press of his thumb. “You said you needed one more truck?”

“Yea.”

“For what?” Carlyn’s computer started up, and he sat down to begin the transfer of the truck into The Legion’s hands.

“Redistribution of necessary amenities.”

Carlyn scoffed. “What’s that in real talk? Come on, Johann. You know who you’re talking to.”

“A drug lord and gunrunner.”

“So be real with me. I won’t judge you.”

Johann sighed. “We’re going to hit a pharmaceutical lab and take a few seasons' worth of heat suppressants. Then we're going to give them out to low- and no-income omegas who want to keep alphas off their backs.”

“Sounds legit. Much money in that?”

One moment Carlyn was looking at the screen, then he was colliding with his computer screen at full speed. Instinct kicked in and Carlyn pushed away from the desk, hunched to avoid the rest of the blow and swung out hard with his arm. His arm connected with Johann’s stomach, but only lightly as Johann had jumped back to avoid it. Carlyn lunged for him, hands aiming for his neck, which Johann must have seen coming because he crossed his arms in front of his neck and kicked to throw Carlyn off his balance. As Carlyn started to fall towards the floor, he adjusted his aim and put all his weight on Johann’s waist, bringing them toward the floor, but not without hitting the table behind Johann and knocking everything off it in a loud crash.

Johann hissed, put both hands on Carlyn’s face, and pushed, his knees coming up to dig into Carlyn’s torso. Carlyn growled, climbed to his knees, and used his superior size to pin Johann down at the wrists and thigh, hands on his wrists above Johann’s head, and one knee on his thigh.

“Stay down!” Carlyn growled, but his wasn’t the only growl.

From the door there was a small chorus of sounds and when Carlyn looked, Becka was in the open doorway, flanked by Jackson and another, lower, alpha Molly. Jackson and Molly were smiling wickedly, nudging each other and Becka. Becka looked more concerned.

“We heard crashing,” Becka explained. “I thought you need help with… I guess you didn’t.”

Before Carlyn could say anything, Johann moved, but not to attack him. He leaned up as best he could and nudged him with his head, roughly but affectionately.

“Hey,” he whispered and, when Carlyn looked at him, gave him a questioning look.

Carlyn was on the verge of stupidly asking what Johann was doing, and weren’t they fighting anymore, but Becka spoke first.

“I’m going to just shut the door.” She did, and the room went quiet for a second before Johann said,

“Get the fuck off me.”

“What was that?” Carlyn asked.

“Acting,” Johann said dryly. “Now get the fuck off me.”

Carlyn withdrew off Johann but was no closer to figuring out what sort of situation he was in. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Acting? What about you hitting me? What was that?”

“You’re thick,” Johann muttered as he climbed to his feet. “I’ll walk you through it. You asked if there’s money in what we’re going to do.”

“A fair question,” Carlyn said.

“You weren’t listening to the explanation you asked for, were you? Typical. We’re giving the suppressants to low- and no-income omegas, which implies what?”

“That they can’t afford the suppressants and therefore any money made would be ill gotten, which is not what The Lucretian Legion is about.”

“You’re dumb as a bag of rocks, but you learn fast.”

“Thank you. You could have explained that instead of hitting me.”

“But hitting you was so cathartic,” Johann sighed. “And besides, the situation worked to our advantage.”

“How?”

Johann walked around Carlyn and righted the chair that had been up-ended during their fight. “Rumors,” he said. “I was going to plant some rumors that we had an especially rough sex life. It would explain why I’m so combative with you.”

Carlyn gave a full-throated laugh. “No, it wouldn’t! That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Of course it does. Alphas believe that every omega that’s combative just needs to be fucked by an alpha. And the more combative and unpleasant an omega is, the more the typical alpha believes they need, nay want, to be dominated by a strong alpha. Docile omegas are assumed to be fragile and need gentle care. Aggressive omegas are assumed to need taming. So the less I actually seem to like you, the more the alphas around you will assume you’re fucking me super hard because that’s what I must need and want.”

Staring, opening mouthed, Carlyn processed what Johann said. It didn’t sound right. And yet, Becka and the others had immediately seen them and assumed they were doing something intimate. Sure, Johann had nudged him, but could they really not see they hadn’t been being affectionate?

“Alphas… are tremendously stupid.”

Johann chuckled, a surprisingly genuinely sound. “You don’t know anything about the real world, do you?”

“Hmm,” Carlyn muttered and sat down at his desk. “I’m sorry I asked about making money off your project. Force of habit. Let’s get your truck.”

“We’ll drive it to the drop off this evening,” Johann said, turning his back to Carlyn. “I acquaint myself with your base until then. You do your work. I’ll amuse myself.”

To Carlyn's surprise, Johann spent the whole day at The Fang's base without getting into any fights. He went around making mumbled apologies to people, asking them to excuse The Lucretian Legion for the damage done during their strike on the base.

"We weren't allies then," was what he said, according to Raji, who told Carlyn about it later. "It was just business. You understand."

The Fangs took it all in stride. To them, Johann was officially Carlyn's bonded mate, and it was "apologies accepted" and water under the bridge.

"He's a tough little meg," Jackson said almost affectionately, leaning in Carlyn's office doorway. "It was an honor to have my ass kicked by him. He must be good in bed."

"Amazing," Carlyn said with a smile, even though his skin was crawling. "Where is he now?"

"Having lunch in the yard with some of the girls. They're looking after him for you. Some betas want him to train with them because he's built like a fucking tank." Jackson chuckled. "I mean, he certainly fills out that t-shirt and jeans." He growled in the back of his throat.

"Keep your hands to yourself," Carlyn warned with a tight smile. "Or Johann will rip your dick off and I'll watch with him as you bleed out."

"Right, right. He's yours. Lucky."

Jackson walked away and Carlyn paused and think about how that nagging feeling of annoyance he'd always had with his own sex was blooming into an outright dislike for them.

But while Carlyn spent the day swallowing bullshit compliments about his new relationship, Johann spent the day endearing himself to The Fangs as an irritable, combative, but mostly importantly secretly tamed omega. By the time they left the base, Johann in the truck, and Carlyn following in his own truck, the whole base seemed to be smitten with Johann.

They drove for some time, Johann leading and Carlyn following. They left the city and drove into the country, up into the mountains where the houses became more and more sparse, until they seemed to disappear altogether. Finally, Johann pulled off the road onto a trail and cut the engine. Carlyn pulled up behind the truck and waited. In a moment, Johann appeared next to the passenger side of the truck, opened the door, and got in.

"We can leave," Johann said.

"Should we leave the truck here?"

"It's fine. It won't be here long."

"Should we wait?"

Johann chuckled sarcastically. "You'd love that. No. You see no one but me. Drive."

Seeing he wasn't going to get anywhere, and not wanting to get into another fight with Johann, Carlyn did as he was told. He backed up into the road, turned the car around and did the best he could to navigate his way back down the dark mountain roads. To break up the silence in the car, Carlyn spoke.

"So, we're getting along, aren't we?"

"I guess," Johann muttered.

"I mean, we are, aren't we?"

"I don't want to kill you, so there's that." Johann smiled tightly from what Carlyn could see from the driver's seat.

"That's… good. I mean, we have very different lives and see the world differently. I want to know that I can trust you to keep explaining things to me and not fly off the handle again and lash out at me."

"You're talking about earlier today." Johann said and slumped in the seat. "I said I was sorry."

"No, you didn't. You said it was cathartic."

"Well, I meant to say I was sorry." Johann paused, and in the interim Carlyn wasn't sure what to say. Luckily Johann spoke again after some silence. "Look, I am sorry, Carlyn. I lost my temper. There was something about you wanting to make money off the work we're doing, off of the most vulnerable and helpless omega that was so typical of an alpha that made me lose my sense of… you know…"

"Not hitting someone over the head?"

"Yea."

"I didn't mean to be cruel," Carlyn explained.

"You can't help it," Johann groused.

"And that's what I want to talk about. My nature, my upbringing, everything about me is an offense to you. Things I see as normal could be something you see as horrible. I need you to talk to me from now on. Maybe the world is as you say it is, but maybe it doesn't have to be. I've always been told I act more like an omega than an alpha, maybe I could start really living up to that and do some good, but I'm going to need a teacher. You have to be patient with me."

"I suppose. Frankly, you're less of pain than the rest of your sex. I doubted, when I came to live with you, that you'd ever say anything that'd make me break cover. I was almost disappointed when I said what you did."

"And that's why I need you to promise. I do not know what other things I could casually say that could offend you. For instance, I could have a conversation with someone about pairing centers."

Carlyn turned his head towards Johann for just a moment, just in time to see his reaction. It was just as he expected. Johann's entire body tensed as if an electric current had passed through it. His jaw locked up as he frowned.

Pairing centers had been outlawed decades ago to keep the peace. They were still around, of course. No church, or school, or job could legally force an omega into one, but family certainly could. No business could operate as a pairing center, but illegal businesses certainly did.

There was a stigma around them. No one admitted to forcing their child into a pairing center. The public opinion was worse than the jail time. Businesses accused of operating as a pairing center often used the defense that they were brothels and only coincidently did the alpha john end up bonding with the omega sex workers, and the payments made to the brothels were to pay off any debts the workers had. The chargers for running the brothel weren't as bad.

But that was an alpha's perspective.

To omegas, pairing centers were state sanctioned slavery. It used to be that omegas couldn't continue in school, get a job, register to vote, lease an apartment, open a bank account if they weren't signed up at a pairing center. The pairing center took all their information, height, weight, every measurement, their job, their hobbies, even their friends occasionally. And when that was done, alphas would pay to be paired with them by the center, and the center's word was law. An omega who refused a suitor approved by a pairing center could be kicked out of the system and have every right stripped from. Sometimes a rich alpha of an omega child would pay to have control over who their child bonded with, but that wasn't a guarantee no matter who the alpha was.

The male omega who'd mothered Loren had been bonded by a pairing center. Her father had been pregnant more often than not because that's how his alpha mate liked him. Loren, his oldest, had been the only child he'd been allowed to keep. Loren's father had been bonded to a male alpha who couldn't pass on his family name anyway and had no intention of letting his harem keep a bunch of kids he couldn't even give his name to.

Thinking about it now, Carlyn wondered why he hadn't asked Loren more about how she'd grown up. Maybe he really didn't know anything about the world. Loren had known about The Lucretian Legion, and she'd told him about the pairing centers that had closed just before Carlyn was born. Maybe he should have been asking her more questions. He'd thought leaving her past alone had been the respectful thing to do, but maybe it had been the ignorant thing to do.

Carlyn glanced over at Johann again. It had been several minutes since he'd spoken.

"Johann?"

The silence stretched on for another few seconds before Johann spoke.

"You would never, ever, in a million years support pairing centers," he said calmly. "You're just trying to rile me up."

"No, I'm not. I'm serious. I mean… I could support… the ease of it. Just go in, fill out a questionnaire, and get matched up with the omega who fit the profile. Easy."

"Oh my… One, you said you 'could' support this, which implies you don't. You couldn't even get the sentence out properly. Two, all the pauses while you try to think up something you supposedly supported. Plus, the weak-sauce argument. And, you're a princess in a shining armor, you could never bond with some you don't know. You don't even have a proper harem in your house. Each of your mates has their own room! If you have kids, you're going to need a bigger house! No. You would never stomach finding partners through chattel slavery system. It's not you."

"And if The Lucretian Legion said it was? If they told you I was a threat and ordered you to get rid of me? You said, you explained that alphas who are too big of a threat to let live, you get rid of. What if I become a threat?"

"You're not a threat, Carlyn. You're annoying."

"And if your bosses say otherwise?"

"Anything you do, I'll know about way before they do. They could never tell me anything about you I don't already know. You're not a threat. Not to us."

Carlyn sighed. He figured he should drop it. This wasn't getting him anywhere. Then he thought of one more thing.

"What if The Fangs get into politics? You know, greasing judges and prosecutors and politicians."

"What does that have to do with us?"

"Laws affect omegas. What if the people The Fangs support are your enemies?"

Johann didn't respond right away. They reached an intersection, which allowed Carlyn to look at him. Johann really filled out his t-shirt and jeans. He was gorgeous. Carlyn wished the omega didn't hate him so much.

"I don't think you would do that," Johann said at last. "At least not on purpose. You're too soft. And if you found out after-wards, well, you're not a man of legal ways, Carlyn. I expect you could do something about the judge or politician with those sorts of ideas.

"Are you asking me to possibly assassinate a politician The Lucretian Legion disapproves of?"

"I'm asking you to do to this hypothetical alpha what you do to any alpha who displeases you that much. Does omega abuse bother you, or doesn't it?"

The light changed and Carlyn began to drive.

#dusk novels #Behind enemy ties #alpha/beta/omega #alternative human biology #criminal elements #harams #lgbtq #politics #polyarmory #romance #science fiction #social justice #speculative fiction

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nyssarra · 4 years

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You Are My Sunshine

Summary: Sara is Nyssa's sunshine, but the sun doesn't always shine for her.

Fandom: Arrow.

Relationship: Nyssa al Ghul/Sara Lance.

Characters: Nyssa al Ghul, Sara Lance.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

……………………………………………………………………

The League is death, it is darkness and it is the world of the devil, but Sara lives in it. She a part of her felt that after everything she's done, cheating with her sister's boyfriend, torturing men on the Amazo, and creating the monster of Mirakuru, this is what she deserves. They try to pull the wool over her eyes, tell her a line and have her repeat it back, but she never bought into the myths and legends of doing all right by killing in the shadows.

Sara let the water run over her hands as she scrubbed out the dried blood from underneath her fingernails. Some days it felt like it would never wash away, but today it does. When she finally saw the white of her nails and rinsed them off, drying them on the soft towel.

Yet there was happiness, in the form of a beautiful brunette who kissed her like no one else, who loved her truly, more than anyone else ever had. To Nyssa, Sara wasn't her second choice, and Sara didn't have to steal her away from anyone. Nyssa was hers by choice and for love.

Sara walked on her toes as she left the bathroom. It was late, but a few candles still burned around their room, forever providing light against the dark and the cold night outside their windows. Sara slipped under the covers and propped herself up on her elbows as she gazed down at Nyssa asleep before her. Nyssa’s black curls were a halo on her pillow and her lips were slightly parted as she slept. She was so beautiful, and wonderful, and everything good about the League. Nyssa was the bright spot in everything.

“You are my sunshine,” Sara whisper pressing her lips to Nyssa’s head. She can only remember a few lines from the childhood song, but it comes back to her like a soft memory.

“You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine,

You make me happy,

When skies are gray,

You'll never know dear, how much I love you,

So please don't take my sunshine away.”

As Sara trailed off, she wrapped her arms around Nyssa's waist and cuddled into her chest. Sara held her as if Nyssa would disappear like so many others had and Sara would never be convinced that this was permanent. So for now, she just squeezed Nyssa tighter and prayed that she'd still be there in the morning.

……………………………………………………………………

Nyssa learned the song from Sara’s lips. She sang it only when Sara thought Nyssa was sleeping. The simple tune was a melody that floated off of Sara’s lips, it was childish, but beautiful. Nyssa couldn't help, but think of the song in reverse, with Sara’s yellow hair, musical laugh, and shining smile it reminded her remarkably of the sun. Sara was a warm and happy spot in Nyssa’s life, filled with duty, honor, and obedience. Sara was her joy and her happiness.

Nyssa can see how the darkness of their life affected Sara, taking away the glow of her hair and the brightness of her smile. Sara fell asleep crying in her arms for the little girl whose father she killed. For all the regret and anger Sara felts, for a commitment she has made that asked her to kill. Nyssa knew that it didn’t settle well in Sara's heart, even Nyssa was beginning to question whether what they were doing was right. Sara had always had a better moral compass than to her and if this tipped her scales towards the wrong, then Nyssa felt right to question it.

Sara's sobs turn into heavy breaths and shaking moans, until she finally drifted into a deep slumber. Nyssa took a warm cloth and washed away the saltwater from her cheeks. Then she tucked Sara further into bed and held her close. The words to Sara’s song floated into her mind. Nyssa had never been one for singing, but she did her best to sing softly, for Sara.

“You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine,

You make me happy,

When skies are gray,

You'll never know dear, how much I love you,

So please don't take my sunshine away.”

Nyssa knew that Sara had never been as committed to the League as most of the others are. She knew that she was the reason Sara stayed and there's a part, deep inside her, that knew that one day, that won't be enough.

……………………………………………………………………

Nyssa was right and one day it's not enough, Sara packed a light bag and dressed while Nyssa was out. Sara knew she wouldn't be able to walk away from Nyssa if she were there. So she left in the dead of night while Nyssa was in a meeting with her father. She took the dirt bike across the desert towards Baghdad. Sara looked up at the sky with no moon to reflect the sun’s light. She's turning away from her sunshine, but a part of her is still naive enough to think and maybe they will be together again someday.

That day came when Sara willingly returned to the League, she had a new understanding of death and its necessity, but also on her role in taking a life for the League. If it meant her family and her City's survival then Sara would willingly serve Ra's al Ghul. Nyssa in all her grace forgave her. There was an understanding in her voice as she spoke with her and she was happy to have her back willingly. So for a brief time, there was sunshine for both of them.

……………………………………………………………………

Whenever Sara left on a mission without her, she seems to take the sunshine with her. Nyssa tried not to mope through the hall, but even Ra's al Ghul can sense her brooding. It was made worse when Sara failed to check in with her handler. Nyssa feared from the moment her father assigned this task to Sara, that her sunshine would be taken from her. A fear that settled heavy on her heart as she kneeled in front of Sara's Grave where her Beloved was buried. Her Sunshine is gone forever and Nyssa held back tears as she spoke with Laurel. It was only when she was back in the safety of Sara safe house that she leaned against the table and let her tears fall.

A few years ago she looked up the lyrics to Sara's sunshine song and realized the sad nature of the full song. The lyrics come back to her now as she cried.

“The other night dear, as I lay sleeping

I dreamed I held you in my arms,

But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken,

So I hung my head and I cried,

You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine,

You make me happy,

When skies are gray,

You'll never know dear, how much I love you,

So please don't take my sunshine away.”

Someone took her sunshine away, but she would take the sun from them, permanently.

……………………………………………………………………

But the song was wrong and her sunshine came back to her.

Nyssa wrapped her arms around Sara's waist as they sit in the porch swing on Felicity and Oliver's back deck. The sun shined warmly above them as they enjoyed the last few days of summer surrounded by friends and family. Laurel and Tommy sit at the table drinking and laughing with Felicity and Lyla. John and Oliver play with the kids in the yard and Quinton was at the barbecue showing Donna how to cook the steaks.

Nyssa has never thought of loving anyone but Sara, but as they settle into their roles of aunts to the children of their friends, Nyssa felt her love open up a place in her heart for them and for their friends who have become her family. Sara was still her main sunshine and Sara looked at her like the sun shined in her eyes too. Sara leaned in and kissed her again, Sara's mouth warm and inviting as Nyssa put a hand on her neck and held her closer. They were both absolutely and blissfully happy.

Little Sara Diggle ran past and Sara scooped her into her arms, giggling as pulled away and ran off again. Little Sara came back and showed Sara the flower crown she was making. Sara pulled her up to sit in her lap and helped her tie the flowers together. Then she whispers and Little Sara's ear and she turned to place the crown on Nyssa's head. Sara held Little Sara close and sang to her.

“You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine,

You make me happy,

When skies are gray

You'll never know dear, how much I love you,

So please don't take my sunshine away.”

Little Sara smiles up at both of them and as they rocked back and forth. Nyssa looked over at Sara and caught her staring. They both know that they will never have to live without Sunshine again. The sun was warm on their skin and it sparkles in their eyes forever.

#Nyssa al Ghul #Sara Lance #Nyssara #Arrow #OTP: Beloved #DC #fanfic: arrow #Fanfic: Nyssara #My FanFics #My writing

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queenofeden · 5 years

Text

surprise!! day 4 is oops all julians!

Day 4: Fisting

Pairing: Julian Devorak/Female Apprentice

Word Count: 3020

Summary:

His hands will always be his best instrument.

✨ My Ko-Fi // Read on AO3 ✨

“Another, I want another finger.”

Two of his long fingers already slide easily in and out of her. Laurel shakes, her hair a tangled halo against the pillow. Julian bites his lip and slips his ring finger in alongside, stretching her on the girth of them, gently scissoring her apart. A deep groan of appreciation leaks out in between her heavy breaths. Julian strokes over her clit with his thumb on every thrust, the pressure irregular and not nearly enough to make her come yet, just enough to keep her right on the edge, walking the delicate tightrope of prolonging her pleasure as long as possible.

She shudders, his thrusts just grazing the raw bundle of nerves inside her. Already it’s not enough, she wants more of him, can’t get enough of him.

“More, Julian, I need more.”

Cool lips press a single kiss against her knee. “Do you want my cock?” he asks, voice rough, face shining from the exertion.

Maybe another night she would have said yes, would have let him guide his cock into her and fill her up, let him fuck her so hard the jut of his hips leave bruises against her ass. But his fingers feel so good inside her, cool and long, reaching and spreading her in ways his cock can’t, no matter how talented with it he is. His hands will always be his best instrument, one of her most favorite features. They captivate her, strong and sure and powerful, yet capable of so much gentleness. The privilege of having something so beautiful inside her is one she can’t bear to lose, not just yet.

“No, no. More fingers, just keep fucking me with your fingers.”

“You’re sure?” he asks, his rhythm stuttering briefly. “Are -- are you wet enough for that?”

She doesn’t so much roll her eyes, but her eyes roll up into her head as he pushes in with a particularly forceful thrust. It accentuates the utterly obscene noises her soaking wet cunt makes around him. Besides, she’s taken four before. Once. The stretch had burned at first, certainly, but when it passed it had been good, so, so good. Better than good. She wants to feel that burn again.

“I’m sure, please.”

His fingers pull out, leaving her momentarily bereft of his touch while he sucks them into his mouth, slicking them with saliva. Being left empty feels unbearable. She whines, filling the few seconds it takes for him to curl his fingers together, all four of them, and slip them back in as one. It does burn, just as she remembered, but she swallows the feeling down, letting the natural chill of his fingers soothe her from the inside. Soon, pleasure with only the barest hint of pain sings through her veins, lighting her up from the inside. Her body melts into the mattress.

“Oh, yes, yes, that’s it. Thank you, Julian, thank you, fuck--”

Laurel sucks in a sharp breath as the bony ridge of his knuckles catch and press at her hole. Her whole body tingles, as if static dances all over her, prickling heat at the base of her spine. She keens, driving her hips down onto his fingers with fervor, wanting to feel that same shock of pleasure again. And again. And again.

“Careful now,” he says with a strained chuckle. He lays his unoccupied hand on her hip to still her. “That’s practically my whole hand in you, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Oh.

Oh, his hand.

The image rockets through her, making her shudder in place. Her hand scrabbles for his, nails digging into his wrist.

“Please,” Laurel begs weakly. “Oh please, Julian, Julian, honey, yes, put your whole hand in me, please.”

Four fingers deep in her cunt, he pauses, startled into stillness. The hand pressing her hip, pinning her, drifts away.

"Say again?" he asks, voice higher than she's ever heard it.

Frustrated, desperate for renewed attention, Laurel fucks her hips down on his fingers herself.

“Put your hand in me, Julian, please.”

“Hnng...” he seems to whimper. His shoulders tremble. “That’s, yes, that’s what I thought you said.”

“Do you--” With a great amount of effort, she props an elbow under herself, staring down the length of her body at his stunned expression. “Do you not... want that?”

Julian blinks, eyes wide. He looks almost fragile for a moment, jumpy, like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. “What? No! No I -- I don’t? Not -- I do. I do want that. If you do.” He shakes his head, hair flopping over his red-stained eye, and fixes her with a sweet, soft smile. Her heart gives a fond lurch. “Don’t mind me, darling. You only, uh, well, you surprised me, that’s all.”

Laurel tugs her lip between her teeth, feeling her chest flush with embarrassment. “We don’t have to, I only -- perhaps I got too carried away--”

“No! No, no, no.” He tries to surge forward, to kiss her, surely, but forgets that his hand is still knuckle deep. She hisses when he moves too quickly, then cries out when, in a panic, he pulls himself free of her entirely too quickly. Her whole body shudders, hole clenching and unclenching around the harsh emptiness.

“Julian!”

“Oh, oh, I’m sorry, so sorry,” he mutters, looking deeply apologetic in the face but then, yes, shaking slightly with suppressed laughter. He kisses her as he’d previously intended -- from her temple down to the corner of her own reluctant, half-smiling mouth.

“Well, we certainly did a bang up job of killing the mood, didn’t we, my love,” she teases, with no real heat behind it.

Chagrined, he lays his dry hand on her waist. “Not killed, I think, maybe only… lightly stunned?”

She lifts an eyebrow.

“Knocked unconscious then.”

“Is that so?” Her arms twine around his shoulders, pulling him close, pressing their foreheads together. His is still tacky with cooling sweat. “In your professional opinion then, Doctor, is there anything we can do?”

This close, his features are blurred. Her eyes dart rapidly between them, bringing one into focus at a time. His nose bumps against hers, grin flashing. “Oh, I think so,” he drawls. The touch at her waist trails upwards, brushing, purposely tickling, against the side of her breast. When Laurel gasps, opens her mouth to admonish, he swoops in to cover her lips with his own.

Laurel can taste that insatiable smirk, feel the press of teeth against her lower lip even as he guides her in their kiss, utterly unhurried, cupping her cheek in his palm, his thumb coming to stroke gentle sweeps across her cheekbone.

They part eventually, her first, him chasing her with small, lighter kisses, until finally she breaks with a soft snort, pushing him away by the cheek.

“And what method was that?” she asks, fingers brushing an errant curl from his forehead.

Julian shrugs. “Mouth to mouth resuscitation?”

“Oh,” she giggles. “You’re terrible.”

“Terrible, yes,” he says, curling an arm around her waist to pull her into his lap. Surely he can feel the hot, wet slide of her sex against his thigh, but still he asks, lips pressed to her collarbone: “But was I successful?”

“I believe so,” Laurel groans, letting her hips roll against his leg in search of friction. “Thank the gods, it’s a miracle of modern medical science!”

Julian grips her firmly by the ass, helping guide her slow, sinuous movements. He glances up at her through his curtain of auburn curls. “What can I do now?”

He looks so earnest, so eager to please. For a moment she thinks of leaving the topic be, letting him fuck her with his cock as he’d offered. It would be wonderful, that much she knows, yet still she can’t shake the image she’d conjured, the craving that, now spoken, would never leave her in peace until it was satisfied.

“We can table it, if you like--” she starts. Her hands reach down and take his, bringing them up to her lips. She kisses the knuckles of his right hand, smelling the faint, lingering smell of her own arousal on his fingertips. The coals of desire that burned low in her gut, now stoked and flaring once more, fill her with warmth. “But... I still very much want to take your fist. If not tonight then… someday. Soon, preferably. If that's something you find yourself amenable to.”

Perhaps it’s cheating to take one of his fingers into her mouth, but whomever it was that said all was fair in love and war must have known a thing or two. Julian shivers in place, practically vibrating out of his skin, watching her watch him with eyes like molten silver as she laves her tongue between his pointer and middle fingers.

“Yes,” he breathes, a whisper so quiet she nearly doesn’t hear.

She pauses. “Yes?”

“Yes,” he repeats, taking his hand back and kissing her again. “I want to -- I want to see you take it. I want to fuck you with my fist.”

Hearing him say it aloud strikes her like a bolt of lightning. That same electricity she felt before lives inside her now, driving her forward with a hungry moan.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, tasting salt as she licks and kisses his throat.

The rumble of his laughter tickles her lips. “Your pleasure is my pleasure.” His palm strokes her back, a broad up and down sweep. “I want to make you dizzy with it.”

Even thinking about the size of his hand in the abstract makes her shiver with anticipation. “Please,” she gasps.

Laurel lets him ease her back down into the blankets, drawing her legs up to give him unabashed access to the core of her.

“You’re still so wet,” he marvels, trailing his fingers through the slick at her entrance. “Not quite enough, though, for this. Get the--”

Blindly, she reaches beneath the pillows for the stoppered bottle of oil and tosses it haphazardly in his direction. She hears the smack of glass on skin, and glances to see him rubbing his chest tenderly.

“Yes, thank you.”

He coats his four fingers liberally, letting the oil drip down until the whole of his pale, freckled hand is covered in a light amber sheen. Then he pours the same oil down her cleft for good measure. The coolness makes her hiss as it strikes her clit and rolls downward, scooped up by his fingers and massaged into her folds, into her entrance. Luckily, his earlier ministrations make things much easier, her body accepting all four of his fingers again eagerly. The only resistance comes when once again his knuckles butt up against her hole, pressing with gentle insistence.

“Try to relax,” he coos. With his other hand he begins to stroke her clit, so hard and swollen that at first his lightest touches threaten to simply skip off.

It feels like hours, days pass. Her body seems to bob like a cork, drifting between the gentle rock and twist of his hand, the rub of his fingers on her clit.

Slowly, so slowly, it works. Her body responds, opens at last under the sweet pressure. She bears down desperately on his hand until the widest part at last breaches her entrance with an almost-too-easy easy slide, his thumb tucked neatly inside the curve of his hand.

"Oh gods," she whimpers.

At the same time, Julian says, "Yes, that's it."

With one final push, the heel of his palm slips inside with an obscene squelch, and he stops, apparently marveling at the sight of his hand, his whole hand, fully seated inside her at last.

Laurel can feel everything, and nothing all at once. The scratch and softness of the sheets below mean little, her flesh a mere vessel for the unbearable, the pure amount of sensation currently clashing inside her. The stretch of her hole around his wrist -- his wrist -- every subtle movement, every pound of his pulse echoing through her throbbing body, is too much. When he shifts, ever so slightly, she can feel the tickle of his arm hair against her sensitive folds and the realization, just the mere thought of what that means, drives her into near hysteria. A laugh bubbles unbidden up and out of her chest. The laughter makes her clench hard around his hand, turning the sound instead into a choked moan.

Julian moans as well, blinking down at her with awe. "Ohh, that felt -- My god, Laurel, can you do that again? Clench around my hand again?"

With a whimper, she does. Julian curses under his breath. She is so full, she is as full as she has ever been, and still she wants more. She wants him to move, to touch her, to make her come just like this.

"Julian…" she mewls in a voice that is both her own and entirely unrecognizable. His wide eyes flick up, away from her cunt for the first time since he entered her, and lock with hers. "Please move, I can -- please. Please fuck me.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah, yes, okay.”

Ever so gently, he begins to rock.

Laurel has never been shot out of a cannon before, but she imagines it feels much the same as this: Weightless and on fire simultaneously, the inexorable descent into the unknown as she falls, deeper and deeper, further and farther, knowing that her landing will blow her to pieces. Her whole world is centered in the apex of her thighs, where Julian thrusts with the strength of his whole arm, gaining speed as the slide becomes easier, his opposite hand still massaging her clit. Sounds drop from her lips. They may be words, they may not be. She cannot hear herself over the rush of blood in her ears, the thunder of her pulse -- his pulse -- thumping in time with every push and pull of him inside her.

She has never felt more alive. It feels like magic, the way her body thrums in time with something wholly outside of herself, yet so deeply, intrinsically a part of her. Unable to keep them open any longer, the insides of her eyelids play a riot of color. The sensation is overwhelming. It is everything. She feels her orgasm building in her too quickly. She doesn’t want it to be over, but no matter how she tries to tamp it down, her climax barrels towards her like a runaway cart and then rushes through her in a flash of pressure, searing heat, and wet.

Sound returns all at once, like a bubble popping all around her. She hears herself scream, loud enough that she hopes, distantly, that no neighbors call the guards. She hears Julian moan, hears him gasp, hears him whisper her name like a litany, a prayer, as his thrusts and strokes become erratic. He manages to lead her through it, milking her for all she is worth. She comes again in the aftermath, one smaller, less forceful, but still shaking her and forcing her to clench so tightly around him she wonders if it hurts, if it grinds the bones in his hand to dust like the pressure at the bottom of the ocean.

When she comes back into herself, it is like everything around her that had stilled in the time it took her to come suddenly moves again at double its normal speed, playing catch-up. Or, perhaps, she is the one moving in slow motion. Time can be fickle like that. She has never heard of an orgasm so intense it threw a magician out of time itself, but surely anything is possible. She is proof positive of that.

This time when Julian pulls out of her, he does so with equal care and slowness as when he entered. She is sated, content, exhaustion so deep it turns her bones to lead. Julian's fingertips make soothing tracks against her sex, every cool sweep reminding her how sloppy and gaping her hole must look now. Her body pulses, whatever last bits of pleasure left after her first two orgasms finding their match. Her thighs are drenched, and so are the sheets below her, if the coolness soaking into her skin is any indication.

Julian does not stop touching her. He leaves wet fingerprints on her hips, her thighs, wherever she trembles still that he can reach. When he takes her face in his damp hand, she cannot find it in herself to mind, allowing him to kiss her, languid and easy.

“You were -- oh, Laurel, you were so beautiful. I’ve never seen you come like that before, that was absolutely incredible! You’re brilliant.” He babbles more, but that is the amount that her mind comprehends, still working on adjusting back to the normal flow of the universe. When she looks down, she sees his spent cock, hanging limp against his thigh. His seed drips in white rivulets across her thighs and a little on her belly, mixing with her own ejaculate.

He notices her notice, and flushes deep crimson.

“I’m sorry, I should have -- I couldn’t help it, when you came like that -- I mean, god, you soaked the whole bed -- I’ve never…”

“Shh, shh, sweetness,” she rasps, pulling him away from the mess down below and into the pillow of her chest. They’ll need to get up, to clean themselves and the bed soon before it becomes disgustingly impossible, but for now, her legs are the last things that want to move or work. “Don't you dare apologize for -- for anything. You did so well, Julian. You were absolutely perfect, so, so perfect." Her shaking hand threads through his hair. "I love you so much. Thank you for that.”

“I love you too,” he mouths against her breasts, sounding as equally exhausted as she feels. His voice is barely above a whisper. “And I told you, it was my pleasure.”

Laurel can't help herself. She snorts. “Didn’t know you meant that literally."

His smile spreads against her skin. With a careful arm, he pulls her closer to his chest. “With you? Always.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #julian devorak #julian x apprentice #arcanagame #julian #my fic #kinktober2019

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