[ It's been nearly two months. I have it handled, he'd told her at the festivities a few weeks ago, because he thought he did. Letting himself briefly indulge in the violence of a fighting ring; the slice on his forearm from the other man's knife has only recently shed its scab, is still pink and shiny. That should have been enough.
Back home, he relied heavily on men and women paid to keep their mouths shut about the time he spent with them. He understands there are sex workers here, as well, has even spoken with a couple. There's no reason for him to be in this state except for a fatal combination of curiosity and petty stubbornness.
"This state" being his slow transformation, of course. His crooked teeth sharpening, the scar on his face spreading like an ink blot over his features. He has his shirt off in their shared room at the boarding house, studying the dark patch of skin that's begun developing across his abdomen, narrow shoulders tense. For all he spoke so often about becoming a monster, it's difficult to feel it happen literally.
He's aware of her sudden presence without looking, but that's not a new development. ]
I need the room.
[ Go away being the subtext. Not something he tells her often or at all. ]
[I need the room, as though that would be a deterrent. As though Jinx, here in the muddy realms of Rubilyk, would listen. She doesn't flinch, which she's quite proud of. She might have flinched a month ago, rejection stinging as hard as a slap. Not today; today she closes the door behind her and prowls forward, head tilted in curiosity.
She touches his face first. Settles a palm over the ink-blot cheek, then thumbs his jaw, fingers curling close to the sharpened teeth, resisting a childish urge to hook her fingers into his mouth to feel out the change.
She hums low, blinks slow, the offers, softly: ] Uh oh, someone's been a bad boy, haven't they? [Someone hasn't been looking after themselves.
She understands, of course. Jinx has been barely holding it together, either. Fight, fight, fighting just to keep the monster at bay. Intimacy has always been a struggle, a foreign concept meant for other people. She hadn't needed it outside of Silco, had she? There wasn't space for it in the fight for Zaun, there wasn't a need. Not like -
Not like there is in Rubilyk. It's reassuring to see that Silco's been struggling too. Privately, she's almost pleased that there's been no one else. That it's still just them, for better or worse, as it's always meant to be.
She wets her lips, mapping out the small changes, the way he still looks so like himself, somehow. Familiar, comforting. She's still know him if he'd transformed fully, she's certain of that. Just like she's certain he'd still know her. This makes the decision easy, as though she hadn't made it the second day they arrived here. She's just been waiting, really. Anticipating. ]
[ Silco goes still — startled. She may think this is inevitable, but all he can think is that no matter how well he thinks he knows her she still has the capacity to blindside him. ]
Jinx...
[ He hasn't pushed her hand away. She could put her fingers in his mouth or slide into his lap and he'd let her, even if his jaw is tense under her touch, his shoulders tight. So controlled, even as strange forces ravage his body, fuelled by her playful chastisement, cloud his mind enough that, for a terrible moment, he finds himself trying to justify this.
There's a need. They can fill it for each other. It would be responsible. ]
You know I would never hurt you.
[ Looking up imploringly at her, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breaths. And if it's not violence, it has to be the other thing, a hand lifting to touch the bare skin above her hip. ]
[Does she? Hard to say. Hard to know anything most of the time with a noggin' like hers. He hurt her once; stuck something deep in her heart and twisted it. He's soothed the ache since, and fool her once, etc.
She likes to think he wouldn't hurt her. She accepts this as truth for now, and allows his hands on her hips. She allows her own fingers to curl under his chin, to keep it still as she steps up onto her tip-toes. Her damaged little heart thunders in her chest, all a pitter-patter. ]
Close your eye. Don't pretend I'm someone else. Don't.
[ He wishes he could disobey that command, but he is captivated wholly and unreasonably by her, and he is still thinking only of her when his eye falls closed (the other dropping, unlidded but unfocused, watching the smudges of blue and pale skin — no, even if he did have someone else in mind, there would be no refuge of fantasy here.) ]
Jinx.
[ Contrary to his promise, his fingers dig painfully tight, his voice hoarse and tremulous. ]
[ She kisses his nose, first. Gentle-sweet peck the to pointed, crooked edge of it. Next she kisses his mottled cheek, where the skins all pinched and angry-tight under the black hole of his damaged eye.
She has never loved anything the way she loves Silco. She has never been loved the way Silco loves her, so steadfast and true; no need forgiveness, no need for apologies. This is who she is, and that’s all there is to it: acceptance, grace, understanding.
If she could, she would savour his vulnerability like sweet-caramel. Take her time to devour it piece by piece. The problem is, Jinx always eats things whole.
She kisses him like a starved child. Presses her mouth to his and licks her way inside, home sweet home, till death do they part. She sighs like a hungry dog, pulled away from the taste of him to push him onto the bed. Necessary evils.
Her tongue tastes her own lips as she crawls over him, cat-like and prowling. Her ass settles against his cock, hair pooling at his thighs. She tugs the strings of her corset real slow, and tilts her head. ]
Which hole do you want first daddy? [ Maybe she should be gentler about it. Maybe she should be less crude, more coy, more angelic.
Fuck that. She’s starving for it.
The lace tugs free from each eyelet one by one, slowslowslow.] My mouth? My cunt? My ass?
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jinx - rubi au
Back home, he relied heavily on men and women paid to keep their mouths shut about the time he spent with them. He understands there are sex workers here, as well, has even spoken with a couple. There's no reason for him to be in this state except for a fatal combination of curiosity and petty stubbornness.
"This state" being his slow transformation, of course. His crooked teeth sharpening, the scar on his face spreading like an ink blot over his features. He has his shirt off in their shared room at the boarding house, studying the dark patch of skin that's begun developing across his abdomen, narrow shoulders tense. For all he spoke so often about becoming a monster, it's difficult to feel it happen literally.
He's aware of her sudden presence without looking, but that's not a new development. ]
I need the room.
[ Go away being the subtext. Not something he tells her often or at all. ]
no subject
She touches his face first. Settles a palm over the ink-blot cheek, then thumbs his jaw, fingers curling close to the sharpened teeth, resisting a childish urge to hook her fingers into his mouth to feel out the change.
She hums low, blinks slow, the offers, softly: ] Uh oh, someone's been a bad boy, haven't they? [Someone hasn't been looking after themselves.
She understands, of course. Jinx has been barely holding it together, either. Fight, fight, fighting just to keep the monster at bay. Intimacy has always been a struggle, a foreign concept meant for other people. She hadn't needed it outside of Silco, had she? There wasn't space for it in the fight for Zaun, there wasn't a need. Not like -
Not like there is in Rubilyk. It's reassuring to see that Silco's been struggling too. Privately, she's almost pleased that there's been no one else. That it's still just them, for better or worse, as it's always meant to be.
She wets her lips, mapping out the small changes, the way he still looks so like himself, somehow. Familiar, comforting. She's still know him if he'd transformed fully, she's certain of that. Just like she's certain he'd still know her. This makes the decision easy, as though she hadn't made it the second day they arrived here. She's just been waiting, really. Anticipating. ]
Let me help you.
no subject
Jinx...
[ He hasn't pushed her hand away. She could put her fingers in his mouth or slide into his lap and he'd let her, even if his jaw is tense under her touch, his shoulders tight. So controlled, even as strange forces ravage his body, fuelled by her playful chastisement, cloud his mind enough that, for a terrible moment, he finds himself trying to justify this.
There's a need. They can fill it for each other. It would be responsible. ]
You know I would never hurt you.
[ Looking up imploringly at her, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breaths. And if it's not violence, it has to be the other thing, a hand lifting to touch the bare skin above her hip. ]
no subject
[Does she? Hard to say. Hard to know anything most of the time with a noggin' like hers. He hurt her once; stuck something deep in her heart and twisted it. He's soothed the ache since, and fool her once, etc.
She likes to think he wouldn't hurt her. She accepts this as truth for now, and allows his hands on her hips. She allows her own fingers to curl under his chin, to keep it still as she steps up onto her tip-toes. Her damaged little heart thunders in her chest, all a pitter-patter. ]
Close your eye. Don't pretend I'm someone else. Don't.
no subject
Jinx.
[ Contrary to his promise, his fingers dig painfully tight, his voice hoarse and tremulous. ]
Do it. Do it.
no subject
She has never loved anything the way she loves Silco. She has never been loved the way Silco loves her, so steadfast and true; no need forgiveness, no need for apologies. This is who she is, and that’s all there is to it: acceptance, grace, understanding.
If she could, she would savour his vulnerability like sweet-caramel. Take her time to devour it piece by piece. The problem is, Jinx always eats things whole.
She kisses him like a starved child. Presses her mouth to his and licks her way inside, home sweet home, till death do they part. She sighs like a hungry dog, pulled away from the taste of him to push him onto the bed. Necessary evils.
Her tongue tastes her own lips as she crawls over him, cat-like and prowling. Her ass settles against his cock, hair pooling at his thighs. She tugs the strings of her corset real slow, and tilts her head. ]
Which hole do you want first daddy? [ Maybe she should be gentler about it. Maybe she should be less crude, more coy, more angelic.
Fuck that. She’s starving for it.
The lace tugs free from each eyelet one by one, slowslowslow.] My mouth? My cunt? My ass?