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  • Beqanna

    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


    [private]  a love like religion, thomas
    #1
    i think i'm better on my own but i get so lost in you
    She hadn’t been sure if Thomas would come.
    She had asked him to Pangea once before and he had declined, though she could not deny that at the time that was for the best. He was glass and Pangea had been a minefield full of things meant to break him — Stave and Draco, and even Ghaul, just because he could. Thomas was hers, even if in the beginning he had just been a pretty thing she wanted to collect. 

    She had not counted on loving him. She had not considered that he would work his way like a glass shard through her chest and into the chamber of her heart, burying himself there so that anytime her heart dared to beat in a way that wasn’t for him that she would feel it to her core. 

    She didn’t stray the way she used to. Not anymore. Not after her last mistake, when she had birthed that son that was breathtaking and gorgeous but so clearly not a son of Thomas. Guilt had been a new emotion for her and she found that she hated the way it felt and tasted, the way it lingered and took months to leave—the way it was still there, a faint twinge when the glass shard moved. A constant reminder that no matter what she did, Thomas was always going to be there.

    This time coming here was different, because this time Pangea was hers (in a way), and this time they did not go anywhere that was not together. Though their twin daughters were grown (how was that even possible?) they had been quick to turn Pangea into their home, bringing first Amathea, and now, in the middle of what should be autumn, she felt the familiar but faint fluttering that told her they would welcome another child come spring.

    He is easy to find because she always knows where he will be. She does not need her infrared to find him, knows that he will be along the river. It was the only place she really liked here, too. Even without the sun, the ground here was softer, less dusty. In the dark, the canyons disappeared and she did not have to remember that they were living in what was essentially a barren wasteland. 

    “Thomas,” she murmurs, even his name feeling fragile like glass in her mouth. She presses against him, gently running her nose along the smooth glass of his neck, always a little bit in awe at the way that he felt. It was quiet here, save for the sound of water rushing over rock, carving its way through the bottom of the canyon. “What are you thinking about?” She asks him, because she always wonders, and maybe secretly she worries that he would rather not be here.

    i think i'm better on my own but i'm so obsessed with you
    desire


    @[thomas]
    Reply
    #2

    and I'm the kind of love it hurts to look at, but once I was enough to make you try
    now, I'm underneath the rubble, trying not to feel the trouble.

     
    Most of his time has been spent by the river, distracting their daughter by carving the water into familiar shapes. Birds, wolves, felines. Sometimes he would curl the water like wings against her sides and tell her about the glass sisters with galaxies that spun beneath their skin and the brother who did not belong to him but was her brother all the same. 

    (He never faulted Desire for the son she brought home to them. Isakov was not his son, but Thomas loved him all the same because he belonged to Desire and that had been enough.) 

    He had told Amathea about Pangea’s champion, how the shadow creature had won the Alliance and brought the darkness along with him. This had piqued the child’s curiosity, but he had warned her against straying too far from the edge of the water. They were water creatures, he told her, the two of them and he explained that her mother was a woman of power now and someday perhaps she would be, too. 

    He does not like to let the porcelain child far from his view in this terrible darkness but there is some comfort in knowing there are so many dark magicians that call Pangea home. This seems to keep the monsters mostly at bay and ease his worries enough that he lets Amathea practice her water teleportation. 

    He is alone when Desire finds him and he smiles, his heart sighing as he lands eyes on her. His beloved. How completely he loves her, how wonderful it is to finally have settled here with her. To have a home, someplace for their family to grow, expand. Someplace she can always find him. There is no hesitation when she presses herself against him and he receives her so readily, glad for the weight and gravity of her. He turns his head to press a firm kiss to the slight swell of her galaxy-strewn chest. 

    Desire,” he murmurs into the warmth of her skin before he lifts his head, a tremor stealing down the length of his spine at the feel of her touch. Will it ever stop thrilling him? He hopes never to tire of it.

    Thinking about you,” he answers without even a glimmer of self-consciousness. He looks at her plainly, honestly, “how much pressure you must be under. Hoping that you’d tell me if there was anything I could do to help.” 

    He reaches out to nudge her gently, distracted only slightly by the thrill of the pregnant swell of her barrel pressed against his. “Would you?” he asks gently. 

     

    THOMAS

    — and you don't care for me enough to cry —



    @[Desire]

    @[The Monsters] please mess with his immortality!!
    Reply
    #3
    @[thomas] your immortality has mutated into cursed wings. you're welcome.
    Reply
    #4
    i think i'm better on my own but i get so lost in you
    It always felt so strange at first to let her guard down with him. She was so used to every move being calculated, so accustomed to never letting anyone see the real her, so that they would never have anything to use against her, that it always took her a moment to settle into the ease of being with him. Even though she had touched him first she still tenses when he moves to press a kiss to her chest, fighting against that bone-deep instinct that tells her to recoil from love that is real—love that can hurt.

    She was not in control when it came to him. It was not like toying with Ashhal or Aureus or whoever else is unlucky enough to happen across her path (as if she had not actively sought them out—as if she had not known exactly how to hurt them). She is powerless to the way he quiets the constant humming of her nerves, to the way he looks at her and it is like her armor never even existed. How his touch makes her heart beat beneath her skin like it will not be enough to contain it.

    His answer to her question makes her forget to be cautious and once again she is relaxed back into him, his glass skin smooth against the soft galaxy-color of her. “You do help,” she answers him honestly, and though it is only half of a smile that lifts her pale lips upwards, it is still something soft and genuine. “You are the only shred of sanity I have left most of the time.” It is said with a faint laugh, but the truth of it weighs on her tongue, and she reaches to again press her lips to his jawline. “Having you here, and Amathea, that is the only thing I need.”

    Her jaw clenches just slightly at a well-timed kick into her ribs, pressing her face into the strands of his mane as she waits for the lingering discomfort to pass. “Where is Amathea, anyway?” She asks him once she has caught her breath, her eyes scanning the river from where she rests with her head now against his chest.

    i think i'm better on my own but i'm so obsessed with you
    desire



    @[thomas]

    @[The Monsters] infrared vision ;( PLEASE?
    Reply
    #5
    @[Desire] your infrared vision has mutated into a moon halo
    Reply
    #6

    and I'm the kind of love it hurts to look at, but once I was enough to make you try
    now, I'm underneath the rubble, trying not to feel the trouble.

     
    He may be a fool, Thomas, but he is not stupid. He knows the dark things that she is capable of but these things do not make him love her any less. If anything, they make him love her even more. He does not feel as if she has ever felt the need to protect him from the darkness in her, no. He feels that he provides her with someplace where she can be vulnerable, where she can shrug off all that darkness and simply exist. And he has fiercely loved every facet of her, even the parts of her she has never shown him. 

    He exhales a short breath of laughter and returns her soft smile. He does not tell her that he sometimes feels like the only sane thing in all of Pangea. That sometimes it feels like a world unhinged lest she feel that he regrets his decision to follow her here. Instead, he kisses her again and tells her, “we’re happy to be here with you.” And they are, though they tend to stick close to the water because their girl has an aversion to the sound of sand against her porcelain and Thomas has always preferred the water. 

    He thinks of their first daughters, how he had looked for them but could only find Clementia and how she had refused to make the journey to Pangea without her twin. He had trusted they’d be all right so long as they had each other but that had been before the world had descended into this terrible darkness. He’d been entertaining the idea of going to look for them but he had not yet talked himself into leaving Amathea. 

    His thoughts scatter as pain grips Desire and they have weathered this storm together enough times now that he knows exactly what it means. He arches his neck to murmur softly into the warm flesh of her shoulder, gently reassuring things until she settles against him again and he smiles. “She’s practicing her water teleportation,” he says and shifts his focus to the river, too. “She discovered it a few days ago and thought I’d played a mean trick on her.” 

     

    THOMAS

    — and you don't care for me enough to cry —




    @[Desire]
    Reply




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