janus lefevre (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bangitybang) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
xistentia2017-08-25 03:56 am
bangitybang) wrote in xistentia2017-08-25 03:56 am
o1 ⚔ i got no secrets i got no friends
Characters: Janus Lefevre & you
Summary: Closed and open threads for Janus, which I'm starting now ALTHOUGH I PRObably can't tag back til next week. An erstwhile murderer goes about their business in a post-apocalyptic world, such as picking people up at the bar and eating cookies. It's fine.
Date(s): August & September 2017
Warnings/Notes: Possibly some sexual stuff, non-graphic references to violence
open { bar;
Summary: Closed and open threads for Janus, which I'm starting now ALTHOUGH I PRObably can't tag back til next week. An erstwhile murderer goes about their business in a post-apocalyptic world, such as picking people up at the bar and eating cookies. It's fine.
Date(s): August & September 2017
Warnings/Notes: Possibly some sexual stuff, non-graphic references to violence
open { bar;
[in the past few years, janus has learned a thing or two about being a person, doing regular person things, like for example the time-honored tradition of kind of sort of maybe picking someone up at a bar. making friends. contributing through some mystical means to the defense of a refugee city outflung in the reaches beyond the multiversal apocalypse. you know, the usual.open { misc! weird stalking;
janus is at the citadel tonight. though defense systems and mysterious laboratories may take up much of the building, the lounge still has its cheesy music and dance floor and opulent indoor forest. it's a little weird, but then again, so is janus— a shadw under 6', muscular, dressed all in black, without enough facial expressions, quiet as a shadow until they abruptly appear at one's elbow.]
Allow me to buy you a drink. [a beat. they remember that things in xistentia are in general free-- the booze at this bar, especially.] Or make you one. I'm very exact with measurements. Goldilocks' ideal partner, once she's legal.
[look. a few years ago, they were a lot less smooth than this.]
[it's not that janus is following anyone specifically, they just have a habit of watching people wherever they're at. it's surveillance. it's tactical.closed to team oreo (rafa, arthur, era) { teeeeam oreoooo;
so maybe that ends up being you, going for a cup of coffee in the morning or helping to move produce to a grocery store one afternoon, building a shed for the new crop or teaching or preparing defenses. whatever you're doing, it's the weight of an indiscreet stare that pulls your attention. the young man looks both a million miles away and weirdly intense, like a hawk focusing a teeny tiny field mouse from a mile away.
but if you but look at them, janus stiffens and then looks apologetic, looking away and then back again, unsure if the formality of an apology would make the offense worse or better. murder is a lot easier than this, u no u no]
Hello, this is Janus
[you remember. the stilted young man from the internet, who boasted a truly incredible ability.]
I have come into possession of Oreo cookies or a reasonable facsimile thereof
Please let me know when you are available and where to meet you, as I would like to share this bounty
:D
[:D]
powerposing you a little bit, lmk if not ok
then they stand up grandly. gesture out with two black-sleeved arms, urging her to rise. once she does, they step up behind her, their long frame moving up close enough that she can feel the warmth and nearness, the line of their body. but they don't touch her much, not right away-- something about respect, feeling out boundaries, making sure they're on the same page, even as they instruct her gently,] Close your eyes.
[trust falls. it's kind of like having game.]
powerprose me always pls
Okay, [ she says, simply. Despite the underlying current of emotions being anything but simple. It is... a larger amount of trust than she puts in most people, honestly, already to close her eyes and allow herself to be so vulnerable in such a way.
Her life is in your hands, Janus! SHE'S TRUSTING THEM!!! Despite the fact that she is .1947297492 seconds from calling the whole thing off. ]
powerposing more, moving this along, poke me if not ok!
[in reality, it's both less and more than that. you don't have to trust in someone else to protect you, if you can trust in yourself to survive the fall itself. however, there's something to be said even for the simple pretend. it could mean anything. it could mean nothing. but she falls, a slender body through space, music thumping again her skin and the chilled air of the lounge whisking her hair. and when she lands, it's squarely in the hunter's arms.
and then they're smiling down at her, their face close enough that she can make out the freckles on their nose, smell they'd had something mint to crisp their breath before they'd drunk the long island ice tea. and she can tell that-- mainly because then they're moving, with careful optimism, to kiss her.]
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But she knows how to fake it until she makes it with the best of them and thus she allows herself to fall. Rose closes her eyes, sucks in a breath, and manages to refrain from squeaking as she drops back. It says a lot, maybe, that she's pleasantly surprised by the soft yet strong feeling of their arms holding her up instead of having met the hard floor below.
She's also (not as) pleasantly surprised that when she opens her eyes, she can count their freckles and smell minty freshness on their breath and then meets their lips with hers easily. ]
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this part is nice. janus wraps their hands around her waist, pull her up. they can bench nearly a ton, so she's light in their grip, like— like they sometimes suppose dancers must feel their partners are, with the familiarity of anatomy, the certainty of how one is supposed to move together. they hitch her up against their body, ducking their head to make up for the disparity of their heights. kiss her again, tongue delving into her mouth, their coarse, callus-worn fingers nonetheless smooth on her back.
she tastes like liquor and— you might as well call the other flavor freedom, probably. that's what they'd call it if they were talking to her. but they aren't. instead, they're leaning her up on the bar, smiling against her mouth, a little proud of themself, a little charmed by the wolf woman and her blonde hair.]
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Rose parts her lips to allow their tongue to dart into her mouth. She's smiling, too, just as equally charmed. Her hands find their way to anything she can grab onto. The only time she breaks away is because the pesky need to breathe. For as non-mortal as she is, she still has some similar functionalities. Normally, breathing is such a non-thought but right now it's so obvious. So hindering.
She just wants to kiss the cute hunter more. She wants more. Rose always wants more. Indulgence might be one of her vices but she's not about to stop when it means she gets to make-out with super hot people like Janus. ]
ffw a bit lmk if not ok
they wind up in a bedroom. there are a lot of them at the citadel, empty, full of mystery and remote hygiene concerns that janus tells themself probably get magicked away like all the other logistics of this world. it's fine. it's actually better than fine. the mattress is firm and bouncy when they swing her onto it, watching her blonde hair jump off her shoulders. it's not real trust, not really, but that's what's fun too. real trust would be scarier.]
Do you speak any languages other than English? [they inquire cheerfully, kissing her neck, then her mouth, planning long hands down her hip.] What was your first one.
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So, she's casual now. Or trying to be. It's easy to tell herself that, anyway, as she bounces onto the bed with a bit of laughter. It's easy not to think too much into things when she's being kissed and asked interesting questions. Rose herself grabs at the fabric of their shirt, wondering why they're still wearing it. Why there's still far too much clothing between them both, honestly. ]
The language of wolves, [ which probably sounds very profound and deep. In reality, it's just the truth. Her mother tongue wasn't anything spoken by people but animals. It isn't anything she thinks she can truly convey, however, to someone that's not so- ] But after that, Japanese.
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reaching back with one hand, they manage to support their whole weight above her on just one arm, which is definitely showing off slightly more. they smile at her, lopsidedly, friendly, a little lustful, a little more than a little lustful, and then they reach back over their own shoulder, hooking long fingers in the fabric of their shirt. and pull. the shirt skims up over their stomach, chest, hikes over the breadth of their shoulders. and they drop it just past her shoulder.
freckles dust their delts, the rift between their pectorals is deep and taut. there are only the faintest scars. hunters don't keep the wounds they're given.]
Do you ever lose English?
[they lay back down, halfway on her, halfway braced on the mattress beside her, running a thumb up her belly, skimming up the hem of her shirt until her breasts are exposed in her underthings. another tug, urging her to raise up her arms.]
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Their showing off is doing quite a lot for Rose, she'll have them know. ]
Sometimes, [ she says, shifting to follow their lead and raise her arms. It's just as swift a moment before her shirt's gone and- Somewhere. She doesn't care. She'd rather smile at the cute person atop her and answer their question. ]
I forget some words, or- English generalizes a lot. Most people just say 'seaweed' but there's so many different types. Nori, wakame, hijiki. I don't know how you can just call them all the same.
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more words for seaweed, apparently.]
Does it happen more often if you're distracted? [long, rough fingers under her back unhook her bra. the elastic straps relax abruptly, losing their taut stretch, going wiggly and soft atop her shoulders. they tug it up off her arms, and then start on her clavicles, a small bite placed at the center peak, where one wing meets the other below the hollow of her throat. a smile tucked against her after that.] Fall yourself lapsing into the Japanese?
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She can't help the giggle that escapes her lips at the feeling of their lips brushing against her skin, the fleeting graze of their teeth there too. Janus is learning something that very few people know: Rose is extremely ticklish. ]
When I'm emotional, [ she answers, her own hands resuming their roaming. Now that their shirt is off the next order of business would be those pesky pants. ] Which is kind of funny, when I think about it. That when I get upset, I use one of the most polite languages there is.
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You don't tend to lose English then? [but instead of trying to put it to her immediately, there's a long coarse finger in their own mouth, licked for moisture. and then they reach down between her thighs, plying up the flesh of sleek muscle, to her groin. looking to find her clit and coax it out gently to play.
their hair falls in their eyes. they smile at her.]
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Not- [ she's interrupted by that finger of theirs finally hitting its mark. It's a surprising surge of pleasure through her as it does and she sighs contently in response to it before she smiles back. Then, she finds her words again. ] -often.
[ Which probably seems a little funny, all things considered. She doesn't often lose English. At least not as often as when attrctive people aren't fingering her clit. ]
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Hashtag goals? [they ask. she does seem like one of their contemporaries. she'll either get it, or he'll get a puzzled look in between the flutter of her eyelashes. charming, either way.
for now, they tend the wet warmth of her flesh, stroking, teasing, rocking another finger down, seeking ingress below, choosing a rhythm that works on a crescendo. the moisture of her gathers slick on their otherwise coarse and callused fingers. she makes them feel almost new. and it's a little dirty, maybe, they find their mouth clenching wet in the moment, contrary urges to the ache that's firing up in their gut, squeezing their cock against the half-peeled remnants of their trousers.]
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There's a puff of laughter though at that. She does get it and, honestly? She relates. Hashtag goals, indeed. She'd say as such herself but she's admittedly a little swept up by that stroke of their fingers. ] Oh, [ is actually all she utters, hips hitching up just slightly to reach a better angle, fingers curling around their shoulders in encouragement. Janus is doing just the right things right now and she doesn't want them to stop. ]
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and later, they came to understand something of beauty. they love the soft, slick sucking of her body on their fingers, dewy and gathering, the squeezing contraction of her thighs on them. they stare as her nipples peak pink, sweat making her shiny old scars even shinier. they kiss her because— because they have to, pumping their hand. and kissing, too, the muffled notes of her mouth, make them think they might burst if they don't get in her soon.]
Can I--
[it's coarse and vulgar, the bulge of their cock on her leg. with their other hand, they hike her knee high over a shoulder.]
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This is a much preferable battle though. One where usually everyone wins and are left content with the results. Rose knows she will be anyway, catching Janus' lips in increasingly needy kisses as those fingers of theirs continue to work on her. She can feel them building up in tension though, the rough edge of their voice and heat of their cock against her leg as they ask for permission. ]
Please, [ she encourages, giving a little happy peep as her leg is hoisted up and her knee hooks over their shoulder. ]
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and they make a stupid face, probably. a pop-eyed wow then a scrunch of pleasure, tugging back a moment, thrusting again, knowing that a bob of friction will open her wider to the intrusion finding its way in.
they wind up smiling damply across her mouth, a saliva-shiny grin. a roll of their freckled shoulder, and they hike her knee higher, skimming her calf over the angle of their back.]
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Besides, each person is so unique. Especially in these intimate situations. That's part of why Rose enjoys it so much, just the experience that is never like any other.
She'll tell Wyatt too eventually that this feeling is like not wanting to finish eating your favorite meal. Delicious. Delectable. A lot of adjectives that start with 'd,' which is apt considering it's Janus' d that's entering her now. She can't help the contented sigh that escapes her lips as they work their way into her, a flutter of eyelashes, an even steeper arch of her back and hips just slightly so. A smile in return and a low, soft moan all just for them. ] Gods, [ she breathes out, which might be funny depending on what Janus knows about the nurse of an academy in another world who shares her name, face, and backstory. ]
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and maybe janus does smile a little, hearing that word. maybe hers is susanoo instead of nen. they can't remember very well, what the two of them had been like when janus went to the academy. eight years is a long time. but maybe they'd wondered a little at how quickly she'd gotten— snared, back then, gone from her free-wheeling flirtations to somethign that had seemed about as committed to marriage. maybe on some level they'd envied it, insulated as they were from the piecemeal drama associated with it. the lives of staff and teachers are often impenetrable to the students.
hahaha. impenetrable.]
I--think you mean— kami, [they tell her, on the end of a grunt, a gasp, a rollicking three thrusts that makes the mattress jump an the muscle strain shapely in her thigh.]
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All good things require building up to. Just like this, the flirtations and charm. Rose takes a steep inhale, hips rolling to meet their thrusts for the best effect. Rose is efficient, when it matters. When it comes to her pleasure. There's a soft squeak occasionally too between the other myriad of sex sounds spilling from her lips, a happy little peep to encourage Janus to keep it up.
Kami, they say, and she supposes it makes sense. She'd talked about her Japanese language skills, of the ways she wished for more words for seaweed but it- It doesn't feel her, really. Not anymore. Because now instead of all the kami in creation, she believes instead in the Divines. Dibella, Akatosh, and other gods of Tamriel. She doesn't answer but only because she doesn't have the mind to, she's getting too lost in the smell of sweat and the sound of Janus' efforts and how it all comes together to make her feel so amazing. ]
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wishes that she would dig her nails into them somewhere. shoulders or something. something to keep them rooted in-- she feels so good, between the gratifying, gorgeously wet catch and slide of her voice to the silky pull of her pink below, that they think they're losing control a little. more than a little. how sweet the shape her mouth makes when it opens around nonsense syllables that are all vowel, a language more universal than english or japanese.
they hang on for dear life. they try to count-- her breaths, the moans in between them? they try to count-- the starburst of shadow her eyelashes cast on her cheek. they try to think of something to stave off orgasm.
but her mouth accidentally slips across the corner of their lips right then, moving the grain of the velvet of their stubble. and that's it for janus. orgasm comes-- racking up their narrow hips, shuddering, five years of white light behind their eyes, as they ride their thrusts into rolling tides against her.]
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Oh, that's-
Hm. 'Disappointing' seems harsh, doesn't it? Perhaps she's been spoiled, just a little. Vanyel and Farraige both, in their own ways, always tried to make sure she finished first. Just the way she liked it to be. Still, there's something also gratifying about knowing that Janus was enjoying it enough to be unable to last. And it's not as if she still can't get over that hill herself or with a little help. One of her hands idly, casually slllllides on down between their bodies and to apply just the minutest amount of pressure from her fingertips against her clit.
Anything she thinks to say or ask makes her worry she might add insult to injury, but- ]
I bet I could coax a second round out of you, [ sounds alright. ]
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the horror sinks in as their dick does too, one final last slide, and then they're left-- panting, the muscular cut of their arms tented above her. they look down and see the sheen of sweat on her nose, the dewy shape of her mouth. the way her breath rises and falls glistening in the cleft between her breasts. she didn't-- she didn't. oh.]
Y--yes.
[exertion makes their voice a touch raspy, and gut-curdling discomfort does the rest.] I'm-- yes, you could. [the tips of their ears had already flushed, but they're darkening again.] I'd bet-- [his voice deepens, sheepishly,] well. We don't have money.
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steering toward fade <3
&fade