[janus has to physically hide themself from people to watch it, and when they do they're paranoid to turn the volume all the way down. but then it creeps up slowly as they listen and watch.
the speaker in the video is a man. and his eyeshadow is really good. but it's the lips that hold janus' attention for the longest time.]
Thanks. Is that how you got so good at makeup? Videos?
It happens; Arel sees the knickers hanging off the side of Janus' laundry hamper. It's clean laundry - Arel wouldn't be surprised if Janus washed their girl's underwear after sex, but he'd be surprised if Janus had a girl. It could be one of the many, many things Janus doesn't speak about, but it feels unlikely - dating, boys, girls, it's not the stuff that Janus keeps close to their chest. It's the stuff they know nothing about.
Arel leaves the knickers.
It happens again; and it's the exact same pair. That - that is the detail Arel stops on, fixates on. Even if Janus has a girlfriend, it's surprising that they would end up washing the same knickers twice in a row. It sends Arel reeling - looking over to the door as he approaches, looks over to make sure, but there's no mistaking it. It's the same pair. It starts something up in Arel, like a moped engine puttering in the back of his thoughts, cycling around Janus and who they are. Deadly yet innocent, naive yet battle-hardened. They're two sides of one coin, always putting Arel on a knife's edge, unsure if he'd get tails or face at any given moment. This discovery, it's - a bridge between the two, too much and not enough at once.
It keeps Arel awake.
When it happens again; it feels like the last straw for Arel. Like something breaks inside of him, between his stomach and his ribs, a sharp point under his skin. He rubs at it with two knuckles, his free hand grabbing the knickers out of Janus' laundry basket as another spike hit him in the stomach, but this one he knows; it's guilt. Still, he's here and he's alone and he can't help himself, his emotional brain taking over his rational one when he lies back down in bed, holding the knickers to his eyes.
Fingers drag along his stomach, his throat working hard as images flash in his head. Janus, bending over to grab one of their too many knives, a flash of skin and a flash of lace, suddenly obvious. Slipping the knickers on, up along their legs, tucking their dick into the black cotton. Readjusting themselves during class, fighting an erection, their thoughts going too fast, too hard.
Arel licks his lips, lets his fingers trail down to the waistband of his shorts, slip under, push them down to free his cock. His other hand brings the knickers closer to his face, inhales - he wishes they were dirty, and the mere thought sends another flash of heat up along his stomach, makes his cock twitch his hand. He moves slow, just as slow as he's imagining Janus would, taking the knickers off before jumping in the shower. Just as delicate as he thinks Janus would be, washing them by hand, careful and pink in the cheeks, bottom lip bitten a darker red.
Arel groans, closes his eyes tightly and lets the images flood him, bringing the knickers down and rolling his hips up into them, wraps them around his dick, like they're still on Janus and they're grinding down on Arel. The material is soft in places, scratchy where the lace is stitched in, a stark difference in sensations that grounds Arel to the moment.
He comes too fast - urgency and the very acute knowledge that this is forbidden heightening everything, keying him up and sending him hurtling through a powerful orgasm before he's ready, before he's quite there. He's short of breath; still coiled up tight, muscles aching, his brain going too fast for him to grab at any thought and contemplate.
There's some of his come on the knickers, and he'll have to wash them for Janus. It feels worth it.
[it's been more a month. more than a month at mythian academy, and janus loves it here like they've loved little else their entire life. they have friends. multiple friends. they've met their daimon, who is a mess in a lovely way, like found art. their roommate is very handsome. they now own three individual tubes of lipstain and some liquid eyeliner and three pairs of knickers and two pairs of earrings, their first, despite the fact they've had holes pierced for years. carmela was right: when you look good, you feel good. and janus doesn't really need anyone else to see any difference to feel it; to feel pretty and complete and at home in their skin.
not even the fact that the other hunter, bryn, had shown up— competition-- has been able to ruin it. it took a lot of work and numerous tentacle clippings, but janus has now weeks perfecting the redundant wards across the school grounds, and there was even a smug satisfaction to that. to knowing they'd gotten to the headmaster first, that they'll be the first to know if sylwia breaches the academy's mystic defenses again. they've been watching bryn. she's a good hunter; it's hard to read her, but janus is fairly certain that she isn't pleased.
it's still the mission, mind you. but you're allowed to be happy on missions. janus think so. there's no rule against it. besides, their mothers have been providing positive feedback from the elders and telling janus they're happy they've settled in so well.
so here they are! three o' clock sunshine outside. janus is coming back to the dorms now, an hour since class got out— an hour they'd spent watching bryn run through exercises with an axe on the grounds. they're thinking about maybe asking arel if he wants to go to the cafeteria together later, if he doesn't have a romantic or sexual engagement. they've prepared a series of leading questions about england, which they think may make arel smile, but they figure they should wash the day off their face first so they barge into the bathroom—
--and it's taken, someone forgot to lock the door.] Oh shit, [janus says. they've been swearing more since they came to the academy, which is perhaps the only downside. they're pretty sure it still sounds funny when they do it, like the inflection is off, but it's kind of find it come automatically to them like the other kids.] Sorry, I didn't— hello Arel. [he's washing something in the sink.] I have a ques...
[.... Arel stares back, the incriminating evidence plain as day in his hand. Black lace, cotton, comfortable and pretty, dripping with laundry detergent and water, draped over the back of Arel's hand. He was almost done, getting ready to rinse and hang the underwear - get away Scot-free.}
Janus -
[Janus what. I can explain? It's not what you think?
Actually, it's probably not what they think. Or - maybe it is, Arel has no idea anymore, doesn't know what to think about Janus anymore, what they want what they like why they do the things they do. Everything is off its axis.
Arel stands there, his tongue poking just slightly out of his mouth, the ball of his tongue piercing clicking against the back of his teeth as he tries, he tries to decide on what to say. He knows his cheeks are red, still remembering what he was doing barely fifteen minutes ago, thinking of Janus - their lithe body and their ruddy red lips and the array of random tattoos they sport. Thinking of Janus wearing the knickers like it's nothing, their cock half-hard against the black cotton.
He shouldn't be thinking of Janus like that. Probably. In the end, he says the only thing he can think of.]
[it's a fairly logical sequence of thoughts that goes through janus' head. arel is washing their underwear. a positive interpretation is: he's helping, that's considerate, laundry in and of itself is tedious, necessary, and not particularly significant otherwise.
but it was a secret and private and something in the apology, the blatant shame flooding arel's face suggests he is aware he did something wrong. that goes in the negative column. which is probably why janus can hear their heartbeat going like jackhammers, a pulse beating so loud that an ordinary sixteen-year-old would think their heads would explode. but janus isn't ordinary; it's just like the night before their first mission when they were scared they'd die, or the first time they got shot and thought they'd die, or the nightmares for only a few weeks when they woke up in a sweat thinking they'd die. in the end, they didn't die.
and though it feels like they're going to die now, it's a useless feeling. they stuff it into a box for later assessment.
one moment, the hunter is in the doorway. the next, mirror glass plinks crunching, shattering behind arel's head and janus' arm is shoved up under his jaw where a little roll of their arm will shift the pressure to his windpipe. janus' eyes are as blank as stone. they're too lightweight to be a threat at a standstill, but that hadn't been the point; it'd been a show of speed, an ugly promise. a threat they'll regret later— unbecoming, reckless, more caught up in childish sentiment than they know. the sink bites into arel's ass and the panties go drip, drip.]
[There's a drum going through Arel's body. It can't be his heartbeat, too fast too violent too broken, not the steady 75 he's used to - 130 when working out. It's erratic, skipping time, hurting Arel in his chest, his fingers, his head.
He wants to be numb. He wishes he could be numb. He doesn't know if he'll ever be numb again, or if he's doomed to be a walking bruise, blood too close to the surface, nerve-endings too sensitive.
Janus is in their room when Arel walks in, drops his books with a loud noise on top of his own desk. He rubs at his chest, at his sternum, just above the start of his Kali tattoo. It still hurts, feels like it's burning him from the outside in. He sits on Janus' bed, by the edge, hands on his knees.
There are tears in his eyes. He doesn't know what to say, but hopefully Janus is ready to listen.]
You remember when I talked about Emily before? How I talked about her in the past tense? I thought - Janus. [He turns to look at them.] She died. Four years ago, she died.
[usually when arel interrupts them reading, it's nonverbal. more of a, oh, i incidentally wandered in half-dressed kind of a situation than an explicit request for the hunter to stop doing what they're doing. they're reading crime and punishment right now, and it's a slow, unhappy slog fraught with morally repugnant behaviors. janus isn't sure why it's supposed to help anybody to read this so
frankly they're quite welcome of the distraction. the book snaps shut when arel sits on he end of their bed, and janus studies him. nods, when he asks if they remember. nods, abot the past tense. they are not surprised that death was the cause of separation, four years ago. but there's no pretending with the last part, those three final sentences. janus has an impeccable poker face, but their eyebrows climb steadily up their forehead. it's a good, clean shock at first, and that's all.]
Is she hurt? [janus asks, because that's the first thing. whether you ask maslow or the clan.] Is she safe? [they put their book down and sit up like a cat, hands on the bed between their knees.]
She's not hurt. [He shakes his head. She was just as beautiful and flawless and he remembered her. Eyes like pools he could drown into, hair smelling of Jasmine and honey, lips full and pouty and begging to be touched.
But different.] She's not safe.
[She can't be. She's a Hunter. He can't say that, can't say these words without risking everything he's worked so hard for. She's not safe, because if he catches wind that she's alive, he'll come back for her.]
She's not herself.
[It's this part. It's this part that sticks Arel's tongue to the roof of his mouth and makes him throb all over. He'd dreamt of this. Of seeing her again. Of being able to hold her again, feel her skin against his. He'd never dreamt she would be more Kali, less Emily. Her memories of them gone, replaced by fragments, words spoken in the dead of night.
Arel lets out a soft, broken noise. Not really wanting to, but unable to keep it in. When he lifts his eyes to Janus' again, he lets himself lean in, burying his face in their neck, arms wrapping around them. Human contact. Reassurance that not everything is lost. The underlying desire to just. Hold and be held, especially by Janus. Words he can't say out loud.]
[in the meantime, the little hunter is thinking hard and fast. myths are afoot. what the fuck might she be? it's too soon to ask— janus came into a new superpower recently, tact, and they know that it's not the best time now to drill down for details. when they were small, janus' mothers had sometimes pressed them too early for details about lost duels, training exercises that had gone badly, their childish tears at night.
and this seems somewhat more serious than that, so.
janus is actually thinking about what if arel was dating a messiah, when suddenly there are arms around them. warm, patterned over with elaborate tattoos. suddenly, they can smell the deodorant and cologne off his skin and the warm bulges of his biceps press in, his chest big enough for a panther to bask on. janus holds their breath, surprised, and then— there's nothing clean about the sense of gratification now, the greedy pleasure of stolen chocolate. and just like candy, guilt melts through seconds later.
but janus doesn't make this about them! that's not for another week or so. instead, they carefully pull their folded arms out from between arel's body and their own, where they'd automatically raised their hands up a moment go, like when you give a cat a hug. they wrap arel's shoulders up carefully in their grasp. despite the many social impairments they have going on, they know how to administer hugs. their mothers had done well by them in some ways.]
It's going to be okay. [janus squeezes. medium pressure.
[she's back, janus thinks. the hug is enough to make them stop thinking like a hunter, for a moment, and more like a sixteen-year-old with their first crush. shit.] You're going to be okay. I know that's hard to believe but um. She's-- she's proof of miracles. [janus holds him tighter.]
[ For some reason, Charlie never considered the fact that someone other than Arel would open the door of his door room. of course, she knew he had a roommate, that the roommate's name was Janus but... she just assumed that if Arel wasn't there, she'd just come back later.
It had been quite funny, actually. Sort of. At some point during their latest... tryst in her own dorm room, his tongue ring had gone missing. Without going into too much detail to spare who ever reads this tag, let's just say that Arel was working his tongue quite well and his tongue ring got a little loose.
It wasn't the whole ring, just the ball that kept it in place. And a few hours later, when Charlie was changing her sheets, she found it. So it was only right of her to return it even if she didn't know if he'd want to keep it (but really, she was just looking for an excuse to make him laugh).
So it's a knock-knock on his door with a smug smile and his tongue ring tucked in the front pocket of the over-sized flannel shirt she was wearing over tiny jean shorts.]
the wolf girl and the hunter could not possibly look more different. where charlie stands a charming inch below the national average, janus towers at 6'2". where she has on tiny shorts and a flannel shirt that's enticingly open at the neck, summery and bright, janus is bundled up, long pants, long-sleeved shirt, socked feet, black on black on black. also their facial expressions, i don't know if i need to go into their facial expressions. but per usual, janus doesn't really have one.
whereas charlie is in for a surprise, janus looks practically like they had expected her.] Oh hello Charlotte, [they say.] Or if you prefer Charlie, I can call you that. Come in. Arel is on his way. I'm making tea and coffee.
[ charlie looks... taken aback, honestly. one: because it's not arel (duh he's not the only one who lives here) and two: because janus seems to have been expecting her. ]
Charlie, [ she says without thinking, a little dazed before she offers him a friendly smile, despite janus's whole... self (charlie is a smiler). she falters for a moment before she goes into their room.]
Uh, sorry. I thought Arel would be here and I just wanted to come by and-- [ she stops just short of saying what she came for, turning to look at janus.]
[because i saw you walking across the quad toward fire house in booty shorts, but i didn't, really, this is just how my face looks whether i'm surprised or not, and usually surprise has to rise to the level of, and then a room full of people unexpectedly died before i look really surprised. on the grand scale of unexpected events in my life, this is probably somewhere in the top 100, at best.
newly equipped with social skills, janus doesn't say any of that, not even a short version.]
I was already making tea, [they tell her.] And usually I make enough hot water in case Arel needs coffee before he starts working out. [they're looking at her, which is normal for a conversation. but there's an odd extra bit of care to it, the way there always is with janus; studying people, the way they hold themselves, how they talk, what they wear. thinking about why that might be.] Do you not want to see him?
[Arel is kinda frantic in his preparations, after Janus agrees on their date. It's not that he's not romantic, but he definitely has lost the habit. But what he still knows very well how to do, is prepare a nutritious, yet delicious meal. So he skips his last couple of classes and sneaks into the kitchens, careful as he puts together a healthy stir-fry, but also steals a couple of the custard tarts he sees in one of the fridges - sorry, dinner crew.
Getting back to the dorm early, he sets up - the stir-fry can be put in the microwave he added to the mini-fridge a while ago. While he waits for Janus to come back, always punctual and proper Janus, Arel drags his duvet onto the floor, using it as a makeshift picnic blanket. There are no candles, no soft music playing in the background, just a white duvet on the floor and Arel's gym equipment pushed off to make more space, custard tarts in the fridge and a stir-fry with glass noodles, bamboo shoots and water chestnuts and chicken and carrots and soy sauce.
And a couple of minutes before 7pm, Arel sets the last piece of his surprise. He casts his favourite spell, the one that opens up the sky above his head, showing him a starry night sky, wherever he is, whatever time of day. The ceiling of their dorm room turns into a constellation, and Arel lies down on the duvet, a hand under his head, as he looks at a shooting star, forcing himself not to make a wish.]
[there's the sound of the front door opening, and then footsteps in the living area that they share with gav. all of these things are undoubtedly deliberate, as janus can move silently when they want to. or, just as often, come in through the window unannounced, coming and going like the bird that is their daimon. but instead!! they are trying to be like a normal person, coming back.
wishing a little they'd had time to change into something different, maybe the underwear that arel likes so much. or that they knew what to do or say. there is no hunter protocol for spontaneously ending up in a date with your grievously handsome roommate, after an inexpert segue from the subject of virginity. they're a little nervous, about maybe having made a tacit promise, about being disappointing, about-- how not like a normal person they are, when they open the door at 7:00pm sharp.
and then there are stars, and janus stops thinking at all for a moment, peering through. slowly, they close the door, and start to undo their shoes.]
Hello, Arel. You've made some beautiful magic today.
[Arel tilts his head to the side to look at Janus, before turning his gaze back to the stars. He listens to them shuffling around, taking their shoes off and putting them very neatly in the place they're supposed to go to. And then, he pats the duvet by his side, inviting Janus to come sit.]
It's my favourite one, this one. Appeared when I was 17. It works, wherever I am, whatever time or day, or weather. It just shows me the stars.
[He pauses, bringing his free hand up to his eyes, looking at the ink there. All of it meaning something, wanting something. Energy, like the ley lines they come from. He rubs his fingers together before dropping his hand again.]
It's for divination, mainly, but I just think it's beautiful. [Then, he turns to looks at Janus again.]
I wanted to get you flowers, but didn't have the time.
[janus steps carefully out of their shoes, leaving the two grouped by the doorway. ellie i'm so tired, if i misgender them by accident you are allowed to laugh. but here they are, placing themself carefully in the space of the room, like a cat or a patch of sunshine bleeding through treeboughs. they walk over to the blanket spread out on the floor and sit down on it, next to arel but maybe one-and-a-half feet away. two feet seems rather cold, after the intimacy they had already shared; half a foot, touching him, seems intrusive, considering— everything else.]
That's okay. I don't need flowers. [janus had thrown away the ones that ezekiel gave them, actually. feeling guilty about it, like the gift was worthy of better treatment— and it was. they'd found an obscure trash can that the incubus probably wouldn't go rooting through (janus somehow thinks everybody has the potential to be as much of a creep as they are), not wanting arel to feel poorly. nobody assigns less intrinsic worth to janus' virginity than janus themself, but that doesn't mean they like the idea of hurting arel. but they knew they were just flowers.
they're always just flowers.
it's the men that give them to janus that count. their sensibilities, the hopes and memories that had inspired the gift. janus folds their hands on their knees.] You know what I'm going to say, [they tell him, a note of teasing stealing into their voice.] Right? You should be able to imagine. It's a useful gift you're showing me, and you know how I like useful things. You're not going to tell me our futures?
[they were brave enough to say our, but too nervous to leave out the s. they bend their head back to look up.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text;
check out this tutorial for tips
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the speaker in the video is a man. and his eyeshadow is really good. but it's the lips that hold janus' attention for the longest time.]
Thanks.
Is that how you got so good at makeup?
Videos?
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there's tons of tutorials on youtube, you could watch for hours
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I thought civilian girls usually practice with their friends and their mothers.
Did you do that too?
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two; a drabble!! cw: crossdressing; nsfw
It happens; Arel sees the knickers hanging off the side of Janus' laundry hamper. It's clean laundry - Arel wouldn't be surprised if Janus washed their girl's underwear after sex, but he'd be surprised if Janus had a girl. It could be one of the many, many things Janus doesn't speak about, but it feels unlikely - dating, boys, girls, it's not the stuff that Janus keeps close to their chest. It's the stuff they know nothing about.
Arel leaves the knickers.
It happens again; and it's the exact same pair. That - that is the detail Arel stops on, fixates on. Even if Janus has a girlfriend, it's surprising that they would end up washing the same knickers twice in a row. It sends Arel reeling - looking over to the door as he approaches, looks over to make sure, but there's no mistaking it. It's the same pair. It starts something up in Arel, like a moped engine puttering in the back of his thoughts, cycling around Janus and who they are. Deadly yet innocent, naive yet battle-hardened. They're two sides of one coin, always putting Arel on a knife's edge, unsure if he'd get tails or face at any given moment. This discovery, it's - a bridge between the two, too much and not enough at once.
It keeps Arel awake.
When it happens again; it feels like the last straw for Arel. Like something breaks inside of him, between his stomach and his ribs, a sharp point under his skin. He rubs at it with two knuckles, his free hand grabbing the knickers out of Janus' laundry basket as another spike hit him in the stomach, but this one he knows; it's guilt. Still, he's here and he's alone and he can't help himself, his emotional brain taking over his rational one when he lies back down in bed, holding the knickers to his eyes.
Fingers drag along his stomach, his throat working hard as images flash in his head. Janus, bending over to grab one of their too many knives, a flash of skin and a flash of lace, suddenly obvious. Slipping the knickers on, up along their legs, tucking their dick into the black cotton. Readjusting themselves during class, fighting an erection, their thoughts going too fast, too hard.
Arel licks his lips, lets his fingers trail down to the waistband of his shorts, slip under, push them down to free his cock. His other hand brings the knickers closer to his face, inhales - he wishes they were dirty, and the mere thought sends another flash of heat up along his stomach, makes his cock twitch his hand. He moves slow, just as slow as he's imagining Janus would, taking the knickers off before jumping in the shower. Just as delicate as he thinks Janus would be, washing them by hand, careful and pink in the cheeks, bottom lip bitten a darker red.
Arel groans, closes his eyes tightly and lets the images flood him, bringing the knickers down and rolling his hips up into them, wraps them around his dick, like they're still on Janus and they're grinding down on Arel. The material is soft in places, scratchy where the lace is stitched in, a stark difference in sensations that grounds Arel to the moment.
He comes too fast - urgency and the very acute knowledge that this is forbidden heightening everything, keying him up and sending him hurtling through a powerful orgasm before he's ready, before he's quite there. He's short of breath; still coiled up tight, muscles aching, his brain going too fast for him to grab at any thought and contemplate.
There's some of his come on the knickers, and he'll have to wash them for Janus. It feels worth it.
Hopefully, he won't get caught.
not here;
guess who replied to the wrong comment
not even the fact that the other hunter, bryn, had shown up— competition-- has been able to ruin it. it took a lot of work and numerous tentacle clippings, but janus has now weeks perfecting the redundant wards across the school grounds, and there was even a smug satisfaction to that. to knowing they'd gotten to the headmaster first, that they'll be the first to know if sylwia breaches the academy's mystic defenses again. they've been watching bryn. she's a good hunter; it's hard to read her, but janus is fairly certain that she isn't pleased.
it's still the mission, mind you. but you're allowed to be happy on missions. janus think so. there's no rule against it. besides, their mothers have been providing positive feedback from the elders and telling janus they're happy they've settled in so well.
so here they are! three o' clock sunshine outside. janus is coming back to the dorms now, an hour since class got out— an hour they'd spent watching bryn run through exercises with an axe on the grounds. they're thinking about maybe asking arel if he wants to go to the cafeteria together later, if he doesn't have a romantic or sexual engagement. they've prepared a series of leading questions about england, which they think may make arel smile, but they figure they should wash the day off their face first so they barge into the bathroom—
--and it's taken, someone forgot to lock the door.] Oh shit, [janus says. they've been swearing more since they came to the academy, which is perhaps the only downside. they're pretty sure it still sounds funny when they do it, like the inflection is off, but it's kind of find it come automatically to them like the other kids.] Sorry, I didn't— hello Arel. [he's washing something in the sink.] I have a ques...
[... ...
.................... janus stares.]
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Janus -
[Janus what. I can explain? It's not what you think?
Actually, it's probably not what they think. Or - maybe it is, Arel has no idea anymore, doesn't know what to think about Janus anymore, what they want what they like why they do the things they do. Everything is off its axis.
Arel stands there, his tongue poking just slightly out of his mouth, the ball of his tongue piercing clicking against the back of his teeth as he tries, he tries to decide on what to say. He knows his cheeks are red, still remembering what he was doing barely fifteen minutes ago, thinking of Janus - their lithe body and their ruddy red lips and the array of random tattoos they sport. Thinking of Janus wearing the knickers like it's nothing, their cock half-hard against the black cotton.
He shouldn't be thinking of Janus like that. Probably. In the end, he says the only thing he can think of.]
Janus, I'm sorry.
Powerpose, lmk if not ok
but it was a secret and private and something in the apology, the blatant shame flooding arel's face suggests he is aware he did something wrong. that goes in the negative column. which is probably why janus can hear their heartbeat going like jackhammers, a pulse beating so loud that an ordinary sixteen-year-old would think their heads would explode. but janus isn't ordinary; it's just like the night before their first mission when they were scared they'd die, or the first time they got shot and thought they'd die, or the nightmares for only a few weeks when they woke up in a sweat thinking they'd die. in the end, they didn't die.
and though it feels like they're going to die now, it's a useless feeling. they stuff it into a box for later assessment.
one moment, the hunter is in the doorway. the next, mirror glass plinks crunching, shattering behind arel's head and janus' arm is shoved up under his jaw where a little roll of their arm will shift the pressure to his windpipe. janus' eyes are as blank as stone. they're too lightweight to be a threat at a standstill, but that hadn't been the point; it'd been a show of speed, an ugly promise. a threat they'll regret later— unbecoming, reckless, more caught up in childish sentiment than they know. the sink bites into arel's ass and the panties go drip, drip.]
What did you do?
[there's no tremor to their voice, no weakness.]
also powerposing but i can edit!!!!
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action; pre-fight
He wants to be numb. He wishes he could be numb. He doesn't know if he'll ever be numb again, or if he's doomed to be a walking bruise, blood too close to the surface, nerve-endings too sensitive.
Janus is in their room when Arel walks in, drops his books with a loud noise on top of his own desk. He rubs at his chest, at his sternum, just above the start of his Kali tattoo. It still hurts, feels like it's burning him from the outside in. He sits on Janus' bed, by the edge, hands on his knees.
There are tears in his eyes. He doesn't know what to say, but hopefully Janus is ready to listen.]
You remember when I talked about Emily before? How I talked about her in the past tense? I thought - Janus. [He turns to look at them.] She died. Four years ago, she died.
[The next breath he takes hurts.]
She's here. In the Academy. Alive.
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frankly they're quite welcome of the distraction. the book snaps shut when arel sits on he end of their bed, and janus studies him. nods, when he asks if they remember. nods, abot the past tense. they are not surprised that death was the cause of separation, four years ago. but there's no pretending with the last part, those three final sentences. janus has an impeccable poker face, but their eyebrows climb steadily up their forehead. it's a good, clean shock at first, and that's all.]
Is she hurt? [janus asks, because that's the first thing. whether you ask maslow or the clan.] Is she safe? [they put their book down and sit up like a cat, hands on the bed between their knees.]
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But different.] She's not safe.
[She can't be. She's a Hunter. He can't say that, can't say these words without risking everything he's worked so hard for. She's not safe, because if he catches wind that she's alive, he'll come back for her.]
She's not herself.
[It's this part. It's this part that sticks Arel's tongue to the roof of his mouth and makes him throb all over. He'd dreamt of this. Of seeing her again. Of being able to hold her again, feel her skin against his. He'd never dreamt she would be more Kali, less Emily. Her memories of them gone, replaced by fragments, words spoken in the dead of night.
Arel lets out a soft, broken noise. Not really wanting to, but unable to keep it in. When he lifts his eyes to Janus' again, he lets himself lean in, burying his face in their neck, arms wrapping around them. Human contact. Reassurance that not everything is lost. The underlying desire to just. Hold and be held, especially by Janus. Words he can't say out loud.]
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and this seems somewhat more serious than that, so.
janus is actually thinking about what if arel was dating a messiah, when suddenly there are arms around them. warm, patterned over with elaborate tattoos. suddenly, they can smell the deodorant and cologne off his skin and the warm bulges of his biceps press in, his chest big enough for a panther to bask on. janus holds their breath, surprised, and then— there's nothing clean about the sense of gratification now, the greedy pleasure of stolen chocolate. and just like candy, guilt melts through seconds later.
but janus doesn't make this about them! that's not for another week or so. instead, they carefully pull their folded arms out from between arel's body and their own, where they'd automatically raised their hands up a moment go, like when you give a cat a hug. they wrap arel's shoulders up carefully in their grasp. despite the many social impairments they have going on, they know how to administer hugs. their mothers had done well by them in some ways.]
It's going to be okay. [janus squeezes. medium pressure.
[she's back, janus thinks. the hug is enough to make them stop thinking like a hunter, for a moment, and more like a sixteen-year-old with their first crush. shit.] You're going to be okay. I know that's hard to believe but um. She's-- she's proof of miracles. [janus holds him tighter.]
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lmk if this is too arelmato
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action »
It had been quite funny, actually. Sort of. At some point during their latest... tryst in her own dorm room, his tongue ring had gone missing. Without going into too much detail to spare who ever reads this tag, let's just say that Arel was working his tongue quite well and his tongue ring got a little loose.
It wasn't the whole ring, just the ball that kept it in place. And a few hours later, when Charlie was changing her sheets, she found it. So it was only right of her to return it even if she didn't know if he'd want to keep it (but really, she was just looking for an excuse to make him laugh).
So it's a knock-knock on his door with a smug smile and his tongue ring tucked in the front pocket of the over-sized flannel shirt she was wearing over tiny jean shorts.]
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the wolf girl and the hunter could not possibly look more different. where charlie stands a charming inch below the national average, janus towers at 6'2". where she has on tiny shorts and a flannel shirt that's enticingly open at the neck, summery and bright, janus is bundled up, long pants, long-sleeved shirt, socked feet, black on black on black. also their facial expressions, i don't know if i need to go into their facial expressions. but per usual, janus doesn't really have one.
whereas charlie is in for a surprise, janus looks practically like they had expected her.] Oh hello Charlotte, [they say.] Or if you prefer Charlie, I can call you that. Come in. Arel is on his way. I'm making tea and coffee.
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Charlie, [ she says without thinking, a little dazed before she offers him a friendly smile, despite janus's whole... self (charlie is a smiler). she falters for a moment before she goes into their room.]
Uh, sorry. I thought Arel would be here and I just wanted to come by and-- [ she stops just short of saying what she came for, turning to look at janus.]
Wait... how'd you know I was coming?
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newly equipped with social skills, janus doesn't say any of that, not even a short version.]
I was already making tea, [they tell her.] And usually I make enough hot water in case Arel needs coffee before he starts working out. [they're looking at her, which is normal for a conversation. but there's an odd extra bit of care to it, the way there always is with janus; studying people, the way they hold themselves, how they talk, what they wear. thinking about why that might be.] Do you not want to see him?
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action; date night
Getting back to the dorm early, he sets up - the stir-fry can be put in the microwave he added to the mini-fridge a while ago. While he waits for Janus to come back, always punctual and proper Janus, Arel drags his duvet onto the floor, using it as a makeshift picnic blanket. There are no candles, no soft music playing in the background, just a white duvet on the floor and Arel's gym equipment pushed off to make more space, custard tarts in the fridge and a stir-fry with glass noodles, bamboo shoots and water chestnuts and chicken and carrots and soy sauce.
And a couple of minutes before 7pm, Arel sets the last piece of his surprise. He casts his favourite spell, the one that opens up the sky above his head, showing him a starry night sky, wherever he is, whatever time of day. The ceiling of their dorm room turns into a constellation, and Arel lies down on the duvet, a hand under his head, as he looks at a shooting star, forcing himself not to make a wish.]
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wishing a little they'd had time to change into something different, maybe the underwear that arel likes so much. or that they knew what to do or say. there is no hunter protocol for spontaneously ending up in a date with your grievously handsome roommate, after an inexpert segue from the subject of virginity. they're a little nervous, about maybe having made a tacit promise, about being disappointing, about-- how not like a normal person they are, when they open the door at 7:00pm sharp.
and then there are stars, and janus stops thinking at all for a moment, peering through. slowly, they close the door, and start to undo their shoes.]
Hello, Arel. You've made some beautiful magic today.
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[Arel tilts his head to the side to look at Janus, before turning his gaze back to the stars. He listens to them shuffling around, taking their shoes off and putting them very neatly in the place they're supposed to go to. And then, he pats the duvet by his side, inviting Janus to come sit.]
It's my favourite one, this one. Appeared when I was 17. It works, wherever I am, whatever time or day, or weather. It just shows me the stars.
[He pauses, bringing his free hand up to his eyes, looking at the ink there. All of it meaning something, wanting something. Energy, like the ley lines they come from. He rubs his fingers together before dropping his hand again.]
It's for divination, mainly, but I just think it's beautiful. [Then, he turns to looks at Janus again.]
I wanted to get you flowers, but didn't have the time.
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That's okay. I don't need flowers. [janus had thrown away the ones that ezekiel gave them, actually. feeling guilty about it, like the gift was worthy of better treatment— and it was. they'd found an obscure trash can that the incubus probably wouldn't go rooting through (janus somehow thinks everybody has the potential to be as much of a creep as they are), not wanting arel to feel poorly. nobody assigns less intrinsic worth to janus' virginity than janus themself, but that doesn't mean they like the idea of hurting arel. but they knew they were just flowers.
they're always just flowers.
it's the men that give them to janus that count. their sensibilities, the hopes and memories that had inspired the gift. janus folds their hands on their knees.] You know what I'm going to say, [they tell him, a note of teasing stealing into their voice.] Right? You should be able to imagine. It's a useful gift you're showing me, and you know how I like useful things. You're not going to tell me our futures?
[they were brave enough to say our, but too nervous to leave out the s. they bend their head back to look up.]
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nsfw hella
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nsfw, did we already mark this nsfw, it is definitely nsfw
yes we did
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text, post gavin's broadcast.
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Nothing from the Allagarta either, though they might not tell me if there were warnings farther away.
My roommate is being a difficult person
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No word of Sylwia and your roommate?
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omg wtf idk this didn't post?? sorry if it goes twice
it did not but kicks dw for you anyway!!!
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I would bet money that Brynhildr has already beat you to it, if I were the type of person to bet (I don't)
Sylwia is skilled at hiding
I think many Clans must be searching for her.