aeneia: (Default)
a e n e i a . ([personal profile] aeneia) wrote in [community profile] nonsuch2015-12-18 01:07 pm

& OPEN NSFW POST ( i. )

NSFW OPEN POST ( I. )
↠ lyrics, images, prompts, take your pick





revolutias: (Default)

[personal profile] revolutias 2016-02-11 09:45 am (UTC)(link)

Oh the bitten mouth, oh the kissed limbs, oh the hungering teeth, oh the entwined bodies. Oh the mad coupling of hope and force in which we merged and despaired.




unfavoured: (Default)

[personal profile] unfavoured 2016-02-27 12:13 am (UTC)(link)
wont_be_me: (Default)

[personal profile] wont_be_me 2016-05-25 01:32 am (UTC)(link)
she spread herself wide open to let the insects in
she leaves a trail of honey to show me where she's been
she has the blood of reptile just underneath her skin
seeds from a thousand others drip down from within




erbier: (Default)

[personal profile] erbier 2016-05-25 02:03 am (UTC)(link)
Drifting in and out
You see the road you're on
It came rolling down your cheek
You say just what you mean
And in between it's never as it seems





unfavoured: (pic#8990808)

[personal profile] unfavoured 2016-06-11 12:11 pm (UTC)(link)




[ At least, on that planet, there was more privacy than in the place many, if not all of them, called home.

That was Parker's main point whenever she got off the station. She could never call it home, would never, and she still hates with every nerve in her body the thing in her brain that exhausts her more and more with the way she has to block everything. Although, more so lately. It is hard to hide it better when every time she sees her she gets a little distracted like some school girl with a crush. Which is not the case. Or at least that's what she pushes herself to believe. Should be hard, with the way she sits up a little straighter when she's sitting at the table and she sees her with the brood (which she makes a very big effort to continue to separate herself from). Or when she has to look up from her reading to find her staring across the shared space and gets all flustered. Enough to make her move to another part of the station just to avoid it a little more.

And then they're alone (not really, not truly) and she stops putting up all those walls when she lays her head on her lap and sometimes falls asleep with her fingers in her hair, in the warmth of her chest.

Rinse, repeat.

Anyway, the point is, her favourite thing about all of these missions is that she has more privacy. The universes are vast and you always find some parts of it comforting. The large city is a strange mix of old past and distant future, and she doesn't really care much for the mission (she never does, not unless she sees the opportunity to know about this thing chasing them that everyone has been convinced is the big bad but Parker isn't that sure). Appreciating the views is something she indulges in often. High, far, far up high, she leans on the rail of a building she is definitely not supposed to be near, but then again, she never does what she is supposed to. Got up there with her skills, jumping building to building and climbing up rooftops. It is an envious view. Beautiful, and quiet, and right up there she doesn't have to worry about walls so much because she does not have to listen to their thoughts and she can stop holding hers back. The blue sun casts a greenish hue to the sky, the yellow sun opposite of it pushing pinks into clouds that could almost be made out of cotton.

It is nice not to think of everything once in a while.
]
unfavoured: (pic#8990983)

[personal profile] unfavoured 2016-07-10 11:43 am (UTC)(link)





[ Everything has a price. It does not matter how big or how small it is. But everything has a price. Everything has a consequence. Every action, every word. And nobody knows that best than Parker. And the price was not worth it, but it was the only possible solution she had to get it off. She is free from it, but now she has compromised the Hive. And it was selfish, it was egoistical. But she couldn't deal with it any longer. The way it was starting to tear through her walls, to rot through her agency. How she sometimes found herself thinking not her own thoughts. It was not fair, but neither was this.

But now, with no access to her mind, back to the regular human she is, always has been, there are not many ways of getting her to talk. It is not a decision made lightly. But they have to know who has this technology. Yet Parker will not tell them. So, one of them devised the best plan to take it out from her: cruelty.

The room she is in is unlike any other part of the ship. It is not airy and white, it is suffocating and dark. There are bracelets around her wrists and neck that connect to the wall by magnetisation, too powerful to go beyond a certain point without being jerked back. But Parker isn't moving from her spot, sitting on the floor quietly. Arms crossed over her knees, chin laying on the back of her linked hands and it is just so quiet in her mind it feels like a relief, like she has been wearing a tight rope around her brain and it has only now been released.

There's a sound by the door, an access code beeping before it begins to slide open. The figure that comes forth is one Parker was not expecting. Cruelty. It is not past them. She straightens her back, staring at her, before pushing herself up to her feet. Facing her, maybe, would be less painful. In the back of her head, there is a small flicker of home she came to ask her to be with her. She knows it is a lie her heart tells her. It doesn't make it better because Parker's heart beats off rhythm and it stings throughout. She had made her choice. This is a price to pay.
]
ocultars: (pic#10470613)

[personal profile] ocultars 2016-07-25 10:42 am (UTC)(link)




unfavoured: (pic#9385311)

it took me 300 years but here u go

[personal profile] unfavoured 2016-08-25 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)





[ She really doesn't like places with too many people. She especially doesn't like places with too many people and loud music and intoxicating scent of smoke and alcohol and sticky floor from spilled gin tonics and vodka lemon. The only thing that could make all of this worse would be Spring Break.

Yet, here she is, in the middle of Ibiza, for one week of party and sun and all the things she doesn't care to do. Dragged by Angel and she can never say no to her, and it's slowly becoming a problem. She could be spending a whole quiet week of reading her books and going to her parkour group free runs, enjoy the sun quietly on a park-- but it kind of seemed lame when Angel had announced she was going to go with the lot of them to the Spring Break Party. Or, hashtag-sprung-broke (someone ought to tell the organising committee that it was a shitty pun and nobody found it funny, and they could have also told every that the "broke" part is that there wasn't a hotel cheap enough to host so many college students so they had to rent out a whole motel but at least there was a pool). She hadn't made it easy when she told her she had already bought Parker's ticket. Which would annoy her normally, but Angel knew well she wouldn't say no. She was right.

It really is the only reason why she's in the middle of drunk, high people with the bass rumbling through her bones and ears, music nearly deafening her as lights of a thousand colours flash annoyingly. And still, she doesn't mind it so much because she has her chest pressed to Angel's back and her hands around her waist to move against in in the deep bass of the music. It makes Parker's very short shorts - her denim shirt buttoned up to the last button with her sleeves rolled up is nearly as long as those shorts - ride up a more, but she doesn't care that much. Too focused on this very stupid proximity she can't help but to hang on. Nosing the back of Angel's ear as they dance, moving her hips against hers. She has proper rhythm, knows how to move, but this is Angel's deal, really. Clubbing has never been Parker's strong suit, but she manages to fit in surprisingly well. Doing her best to focus on the moment than any ramifications it might have, though she knows all too well that they are there and she doesn't want to deal with them right now.
]
Edited 2016-08-25 23:30 (UTC)
deployed: (Default)

[personal profile] deployed 2016-08-28 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)


Scars are formed by such abrasions:
the shrouded want of cheek and shoulder
that arms can't reach, throat refuses to ask.
circumspector: (Default)

4 boy parker

[personal profile] circumspector 2016-09-03 01:28 am (UTC)(link)






[ She begs him, often, but it's never fair. She does not believe in fair. It's not how she learned to survive. Everything, everything in her world, is to be used.

Even herself. Softness, too, is a weapon. ( she is not soft, she is not kind, she is encompassing, and that will have to do ).
]

Don't go. [ it hangs, full, on her lips, in her words. It's promising, it's demanding. She does not let go easily of things she considers to be hers. He is hers, which isn't fair either. But so she insists, none of them asked for this. It just what they were given, or more correctly - given to each other. ] Don't leave us.
wille: (@ cross)

[personal profile] wille 2016-12-19 01:26 pm (UTC)(link)





And you drink some more to keep your high spirits in check.
Or vice versa.
shri: (» and you ask and they don't know)

CONT. FROM MEME

[personal profile] shri 2017-02-19 11:08 am (UTC)(link)
P R E V.

[ She settles herself as he lets her. Warm weight that at least - she's not as big as something. Lead muscles that flutter when his hands settles to her waist - eyes falling shut as she huffs out a breath. It feels good - to be touched, to be wanted - even if she doesn't need the praise. No, doesn't need, but none of this is about need. This is about how his fingers are as careful and as light as he is. That he'll treat her not like a Queen but like -

Her eyes flick open when he speaks. A knitted little frown before she leans down to kiss him quickly as once again a means to hush him.
] Someone like you? Someone who I have trusted my life with, who has never betrayed me? Never sought to control me?

[ Her hands settle to his throat, spread broad and down and slip across him. Over his chest, to his shoulders, down his arms. To where his hands have settled on hers to guide them up and under her shirt to her lower back. To brace them sure, to put them onto her. To make it plain and obvious that there is no mistake.

Because he has always treated her like she is worthy not for titles, but for what she is.
] Could a woman want anything else? [ Like it's as plain as the sky above them, and she doesn't let him respond so quickly. Has to say her part, to catch her thumb to his mouth, gently. ] Besides, are you sure you want a woman with which you can have no future?
Edited 2017-02-19 11:10 (UTC)
shri: (Default)

[personal profile] shri 2017-04-23 12:30 pm (UTC)(link)





He had been curiously absent from her side all the first day. She hadn't noticed at first, she was a busy woman after all. Moving in the rebel groups from one safe house to another was both busy and tedious work. Navigating the movement of supplies, external support, alerting certain persons without alerting others. Fiddly at the best of times, tedious at worst, mind numbingly precious always and broken up with long stretches of movement between the town they had been in Norfolk, moving towards London where she would begin her fight in earnest. Normally, when they were riding their great stretches, she would look forward to his company, his thoughts on the road.

He was curiously absent from her of late. She couldn't place it. At least not to begin with. There was plenty to do, and she trusted him with much and no small of that would keep him busy and away from her, as much certainly kept her from him the same. But when he wasn't there for whatever constituted dinner this time, at the fireside - she began to look for him to check nothing terrible had transpired. Couldn't find him by the third, but it was then, as she caught his eye across camp where he hadn't seemed to notice her watching him - watch her? She shifted her weight, wondering what he was looking at. Up until she finally saw his gaze reach her face and he flushed, darted away with a fixed, serious, confused look that she caught up.

Oh. That was what it was about.

About time, she supposed. Here she was worrying that he wasn't interested.

It simplifies things, the next night. She bathes, smoothes out her hair, doesn't immediately redon her armour. She sends Devi to send him up to her after a brief conversation - ( 'really? Rani?' ) - smiles wanly in return, to herself, and waved Devi on where the younger woman rolls her eyes but goes, always goes.

With her half dried thick dark hair over her shoulder, she doesn't bother to put on her heavier clothes, just the lighter silk clothes she wears underneath. Never was much interested in the tight binding wear that Englishwomen seemed to be trapped inside of. Keeps herself comfortable and pours another glass of wine for her and him to be waiting. Not a trap, she didn't want to push him too hard, just an offer.

She did always like to take her enemies by surprise.
Edited 2017-04-23 12:31 (UTC)
mahalakshmi: (Default)

[personal profile] mahalakshmi 2017-04-24 06:20 am (UTC)(link)






[ When he'd told her that they had received a invitation with what she had come to know as this - planets, kingdom, she was never going to get used to that - equivalent of nobility. Vor, she learned the name. The counts. The ones she hadn't made up her mind about, but had invited him and her by virtue of extension by someone he knew - Miles Vorkosigan. Important, apparently, a high enough family to be able to do that.

Her intention, however, wasn't to embarrass him or do herself a disservice of pretending she was anything less than what she was. So she dressed like she had every day she had been queen. She didn't have much of an interest of being like them, but meeting their standards with her own. Any gathering she was attending of this kind of level would be treated like that. She didn't pretend she was other than what she was anymore, not to anyone. She just didn't always say it immediately.

Besides, where her stomach was exposed, the scars wouldn't be hidden. The bullet wound through her abdomen, the claw marks at her hip. The sooner she didn't have to explain why she carried the sword that she had cleaned, polished and strapped to her hip via decorative chains and leather, the better. Let them know she was a foreigner, too, save her that conversation nor became her entirely beholden to understanding their laws.

Other than causing somewhat of a shock, she stays on his arm, happy to glitter there, and for this she does keep her veil drawn. Her own private barrier to hide any sharp reactions she might have behind it and as the night wears on, takes up a game, anyone she likes the company of, she lets work to draw it away to see her face. The only one that doesn't have to try at all remains Duv. Him and him alone does she keep nothing hidden from.

Because she didn't think her regard for him to be plainer. To her, to those that watched him. In fact, anyone and everyone seemed to be able to work it out. Anyone, but him apparently. She was starting to thinking she was going to go mad. The way that she could feel the exact shape of his fingers on her bare back as he guided her to be introduced to this Lord or that Lady or this member of staff. The way he had a half smile at times that he didn't seem to notice he was making. The way when she didn't understand he'd lean in a tickle words of explanation next to her ear and she could feel all the way down her spine.

Right up until the one that had invited him, Miles apparently takes pity on her and asks her to dance. Doesn't know how but she can mime the steps enough to pass for what it actually was. Didn't dislike him, not at all, he was quick if nothing else. Quick enough to work out her problem that - Duv is quite thick when it comes to women. Murmured politely to her as he leads her about. Her brow pinches, wondering if she should be insulted, but he hurries along. That from the look of Duv, he had no idea, and she was going to need to be more blunt, and he said so with only affection. That he just wanted Duv to have something good.

Right. She settles after that, falling quiet as she follows the rest of the dance through before she turns back to find Duv. Shifting a little, forming something of a battle plan in her mind. Besiegement was best done quickly, no one liked them drawn out. It was a drain on resources, on both sides. She'll have to begin then - as she slips back to his side, smiling up at him as she ever did. Warm, inviting. Content, as she picks another glass off a passing by tray.
]

Your night is going well?

Edited 2017-04-24 06:22 (UTC)