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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [mature]  i dont want to miss you right now, starsin
    #1

    Ophanim
    He feels different this morning, as the winter chill does its best to sink its teeth into him. His breath still leaves his lips in delicate white puffs of air but they linger a little longer in front of his face than yesterday. Ophanim finds himself easily distracted by this as he nearly goes cross-eyed staring at the spectacle. Childish, he laughs when he manages to blow a ring that grows and fades once it floats away from him.
     
    He hasn’t even begun to notice that his entire body has become a luxurious golden color where it was peppered red before. Still, the sun catches on the gleaming hairs and paints him like a prince of dawn with a halo slowly turning like a flaming wheel behind his head. Did Jenova know that her son would be this beautiful when she brought him into this world? Did she know the universe shivers each time he laughs? Gregorian monks spend their entire lives trying to harmonize with a sound so divine. And yet, Ophanim hardly seems to notice he is anything different than those around him.
     
    And yet, his world continues to orbit Starsin’s heart. Someday, someday they’ll collide into one another and consummate a perfect Armageddon together.
     
    He finally lets his attention drift elsewhere as he searches the surroundings for his darling monster. (Of course, he believes she’s a queen in need of a crown, never a monster. Never at fault.) His bright blue eyes search for the soft glowing constellations of her body until at last he spots her in the distance. A kind of warmth he still doesn’t have a name for spreads over his chest like hot wax, dripping directly to his heart so that it thrums gladly against his ribs.
     
    Ophanim hurries to her side as he always does, the white and gold wing eagerly folding over her to hold her tight to his side. The dragon fire keeps him warm like a hearth, which in turn spreads the comfort to her, but he doesn’t seem to notice still.
     
    It doesn’t get as cold here so I thought you might like it. We can keep searching for as long as you want, though.
     
    He smiles at her and the expression makes his eyes squint. Greedy, he touches his lips to her neck and breathes the scents of where they’ve been all tangled up in her mane. The boy doesn’t mention that he’ll settle down with her where ever she likes but he has a feeling she’s aware all the same. Home for him, after all, is anywhere by her side. He made his bed in the palm of her hand like a perfect little plaything ages ago.
    @[Starsin]
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    #2
    lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me, do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

    She has him in the palm of her hand, and yet she constantly feels like she is losing control.

    He is always there, when she looks for him; always ready to receive her, with his soft lips and sweet words, no matter how long she had been gone. Starsin was no fool, though. She knew she had someone perfect, someone that others would find desirable; and that he, with his loving heart, hungry for the affection she so often starved him of, would seek it out in someone else.

    The idea infuriated her.

    She used to be able to stay away from him for longer periods, idling her time away with miscellaneous conversations and disposable company. They were entertaining, sometimes – but they were playthings. They weren’t him. He was her prized possession, the treasure she coveted above all else; at least, that’s what she tells herself. That he is just that – something flashy for her to dangle in front of everyone, her handsome angel boy, that no one else can have. It’s easier to think of him that way – like a trinket –  when he is not next to her. When he’s not making her pulse flutter and her skin blush warm all over.  When his sincere thoughts are not rippling through her mind, and causing her to accidentally drop her barriers.

    There is a flash of gold out of the corner of her eye, and even though she knows it’s him, she feigns indifference, focusing on something in the opposite direction. It is only when his wing drapes over her and pulls her towards him that she actually turns her dark blue eyes to his, letting a smile curl to the edge of her lips, although it quickly dissolves in confusion at the sight of his new color. ”What...happened to you?” Her steel-gray muzzle reaches to brush the outlines of his gold and white splashes, as though to be sure it was not some sort of illusion. But touching him, and being so close to him, does nothing but raise more questions. ”And you feel really warm.” Here, her eyes narrow slightly, an almost accusatory tilt of her head when she asks, ”Are you sick?” He would have no way of knowing that the almost irritated sound in her voice was born from concern; she couldn’t stand the idea of him being sick. She still had no idea that she herself was a carrier, but she would willingly bear the effects of the plague tenfold if it meant he didn’t suffer from it.

    But she purses her lips, and instead of letting her suspicions feed off the small grains they had found, she settles into his side. She loves the feel of his lips against her neck, and again she finds herself quietting; like he always manages to do. She turns to let her own lips gently caress against his cheek, tracing upwards to murmur into the groove of his throatlatch, ”This place is perfect. I want to stay. For a little while, at least.” She lets her teeth drag through the lengthy locks of his mane, for the first time noticing the halo illuminated near his head. A sigh flutters from her mouth, the low tones of her voice purring into his skin when she says, ”You’re irresistible, did you know that?”




    @[Ophanim]
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    #3

    Ophanim
    She invades his every thought and she’s become the focus of his dreams each time he finds himself asleep. She draws him in like the singularity of a black hole and he is so thankful to be crushed by the monstrous weight of her love. It could smother the life from him and he would die smiling, chanting his praises to the goddess of his world. Ophanim would build an empire and lay waste to it the very next day if she said it would amuse her. All the lives, power, and wealth would cower and die in the shadow of his love for her.

    And he wouldn’t blink an eye.

    He doesn’t even notice the way she pretends not to even notice his approach; he’s too wrapped up in his eagerness to press against her again. But her words make him pause in surprise and his heart wilts at the sound of her voice. What happened to him? His brows come together in a worrisome expression and he frowns a bit before looking himself over for the first time in a while. In his rush to find her, he hadn’t noticed. The speckled red of his coat had given way to gold. He blinks once, twice and returns to gazing into her deep blue eyes. Was he sick?

    I.. I don’t think so. I feel fine,” he answers, though a lump of worry has formed in the pit of his stomach now as she questions him. Her focus turns, at last, to the home that they have found together at long last. Already his concerns of being ill have fallen to the wayside. He nods slowly when she says she’d like to stay here for a little while. Anything, anything just to keep that smile on her lips long enough for him to get his fill of it. (He would never be full, never satisfied with how much he got to see her.)

    You really think so? I just want to be enough for you,” he mumbles around an embarrassed laugh. He lowers his head, offering his vulnerable neck up to her like a sacrifice. Ophanim leans his head toward her and kisses at the front of her neck so delicately it might just feel like a breath against her skin. There is a desperate want for him churning within him but it waits, bides its time as he focuses on her lips on him instead.

    His wing hugs her a little tighter but he says nothing as he basks in the radiance of her affections.
    @[Starsin]
    Reply
    #4
    lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me, do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

    She always catches herself when she realizes her tone had been too biting, when she sees the look on his face and reads the confused thoughts that run through his head. He is the only one that can make her feel even a thread of guilt, the only one that can make her wish that she could soften her razor sharp edges and be something sweeter, something more docile. She does manage to ease the tight lines of her face, however, as she reaches to brush her lips across his cheek. ”I just don’t want you to get sick.” Perhaps even more so than losing him to someone else, the idea of losing him to the plague was all the more unbearable. She never wanted him to be inflicted by illness or pain; she was already losing interest in the idea of being able to do it herself. Things never seemed to work out the way she planned.

    Her star-studded body presses eagerly into his, letting her lips explore the arch of his neck and the slope of his broad shoulder. By now, she has memorized the way that he tastes and feels, but she hasn’t grown tired of it. He is intoxicating, the drug that she needs in order to feel high and alive, and she breathes him in as her nose buries into the tendrils of his mane. ”You’re more than enough for me, angel boy.” Her words ring with that sincerity that has become so rare – nothing fake, and no hidden agenda.

    When his wing hugs her tighter, it makes her heart somersault in her chest. She tilts her head to receive the whispered trail of kisses along her throat, and that is when she first begins to notice the different tone his thoughts have taken. It stirs something in her, something foreign and new, especially when accompanied by the feel of his body fitted against her curves. ”Ophanim,” She murmurs his name, her lips finding his jaw, the flat of his cheek, and the delicate groove of his throat, ”You know that I’m yours, don’t you?” When her voice lowers in pitch, she almost doesn’t realize it, doesn’t notice the way it has become something that is both soft and throaty. ”And you…” her voice trails off, her teeth scraping the nape of his neck, her purr of a voice almost becoming something closer to a ravenous growl, ”...you are mine.”

    And she would dare anyone to think otherwise.




    @[Ophanim]
    Reply
    #5

    Ophanim
    Even with the sharp edges to her words and the ravenous hunger on her tongue, he’s a slave to her love and her touch. He smiles softly when she finally kisses his cheek and his heart quivers when she shows concern for him. Ophanim melts in the warmth of her love and it shows in the way he reaches out to press his lips against her skin just as soon as he stops touching him. They should be pressed against one another every second of every day, he thinks, greedy for her like no other. The plague is still incubating within his veins but it’s the furthest thing from his mind when she’s around. Soon, he’ll cough up blood and he’ll have to think of a way to hide it from her. But today is not that day.

    Already he replays her words on a loop as he feels a shiver racing up his spine. More than enough. “I’m so glad you’re in my life,” he admits while she hides her face in the white and gold of his mane. His words are muffled against her skin but he pauses when she says his name, draws his attention to her face while she speaks. His cheeks feel warm but the burning is entirely different from a blush as he stares into her eyes. The angel boy leans in and kisses her, careful and gentle on the corner of her lips. “We belong together.

    He closes his eyes and kisses from her cheek, then down the back of her neck until he reaches her shoulders. Their bodies already know that they were meant for this, meant to get tangled to one another in some beautiful mess. Ophanim pulls his wings back and lifts himself carefully, so slowly on top her. His whole life has been spent trying to find where ever he belongs and he fits, he fits so perfectly there against her back. His lips trail along her spine when he finally moves his hips forward.

    The gods used to wage war for love like this, for devotion that ran as deep. His kisses grow clumsy all across her shoulders while his legs hold her waist tight beneath him, sweat shimmering across his gold and white body. She tastes like rosewater and gold leaf all across his lips. Time loses all meaning for him and the sounds of the world are drowned out by their heavy breathing until only they exist. Just them and this perfect harmony.

    Ophanim presses his face against her as he finally stops, chest heaving as he shivers. Slowly, just as carefully as before, he slides off her back and lets his wings hang lazily over his sides.

    I’m so in love with you, Starsin.
    @[Starsin]
    Reply
    #6
    lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me, do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?

    She doesn’t deserve him, and it is glaringly obvious in moments like this. His touch is sweet and soft against her skin, and when she reaches into his mind, his thoughts are similar. Everything about him was pure and faultless, and everything about her was entirely flawed. She hasn’t been quite right since the moment she had been born, and she’s been fighting that feeling of trying to belong and at the same time trying to not care, for as long as she can remember. She wants to be like the rest of them, and yet whenever given the chance, she simply takes and takes. She becomes closed off and cold, and she falls back into a cycle of hurting and not caring.

    But beneath his touch, she becomes something else entirely. He melts her into something more mild, something almost likable. She can feel the difference in the way he kisses her, and slowly, without realizing it, she can feel herself slipping. When his lips slide across her skin, when his words breathe into her ears, she almost, for a moment, thinks that she could be herself with him. The further back his touch lingers, the more she can feel her already delicate hold on her control begin to slip, until, finally, it clatters to the ground.

    By the time he is on top of her, she is too lost in her own thoughts to even consider reading his. Her silver skin shivers beneath him, her mind clouded and dazed, but the only discernible thought she has is how badly she wants him, how badly she wants this. Shimmering scales and glowing stars tangled together until they are one and the same, and when his movements make her body quake and quiver beneath him, when the breathless moans leave her lips, she is powerless to stop it.

    Her breathing comes in soft gasps when they are finished, her legs trembling as he still caresses her from on top of her, the tangled strands of her mane clinging to her dark neck. When he slides from her she immediately presses into his side, both of their bodies damp and hot against each other, reaching up to kiss and taste the sweatied skin beneath his mane. ”I love you too, Ophanim.” They leave her tongue before she can hold them back, but, still riding that euphoric high, she can’t find it in herself to pretend she doesn’t.


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