Octavia Blake (
okteiviakom) wrote2023-07-10 09:23 pm
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The Cape Rouge, Monday... Noon? Ish?
"I think my spring is coming, Octavia. And I can't wait to see what it's like."
There had been no surprise in how hard it had been to say goodbye. Ilian had been impossibly calm and steady, and Octavia had just done her best to keep it together. Be brave, like he'd wanted her to be. Nou fir wamplei in, em bilaik stoda kom nes soujon noumou. Easy for him to say when he'd already done it, when she was the one left to mourn him all over again.
(That last glimmer of someone seeing something human in her before the bunker, The Dark Year, the valley. The last time in six years before the multiverse saw fit to yank whatever had been left of her back to Fandom, to put herself back together again.)
"If you want to honor me, maybe you should plant something. Grow something."
How was she supposed to do that, Ilian?
Everything hurt again.
And Octavia was finding it very hard to even get out of bed. In fact, she hadn't, yet. Just kept laying there, either staring at the ceiling or the line of already slightly smudged dots along the inside of her forearm. Ilian had drawn them with a marker, explaining to her about the tattoos of his clan. Just another thing she'd never had time to learn before.
She knew this had all been a gift.
But right now it was a little hard to ignore how much it also felt like having been stabbed in the gut again.
[ooc: Open for thems that live here, should they so wish.]
There had been no surprise in how hard it had been to say goodbye. Ilian had been impossibly calm and steady, and Octavia had just done her best to keep it together. Be brave, like he'd wanted her to be. Nou fir wamplei in, em bilaik stoda kom nes soujon noumou. Easy for him to say when he'd already done it, when she was the one left to mourn him all over again.
(That last glimmer of someone seeing something human in her before the bunker, The Dark Year, the valley. The last time in six years before the multiverse saw fit to yank whatever had been left of her back to Fandom, to put herself back together again.)
"If you want to honor me, maybe you should plant something. Grow something."
How was she supposed to do that, Ilian?
Everything hurt again.
And Octavia was finding it very hard to even get out of bed. In fact, she hadn't, yet. Just kept laying there, either staring at the ceiling or the line of already slightly smudged dots along the inside of her forearm. Ilian had drawn them with a marker, explaining to her about the tattoos of his clan. Just another thing she'd never had time to learn before.
She knew this had all been a gift.
But right now it was a little hard to ignore how much it also felt like having been stabbed in the gut again.
[ooc: Open for thems that live here, should they so wish.]
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Lucifer shoved Duke up against the bulkhead, true to his word, and kissed him back.
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This wasn't subbiest sub to ever sub Duke. This was the Duke who had suggested to Octavia that they could maybe make their games a fight.
This was a Duke who wanted to be made to submit.
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Lucifer obliged him, shoving him back harder, putting just a touch of that celestial strength in it. He pulled away from Duke's mouth for a moment to bite at his jaw, at his neck.
He'd gotten the hint, was what that said.
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He shoved Duke's jeans down his hips.
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Please make him stop, Lucifer. That grin was begging to be wiped off his face.
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And flipped him over, shoving Duke chest-first against the wall.
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And leaving one rather rough bite right above his shoulder.
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He shoved Duke up against the bulkhead again, and this time, his hand crept down to a rather more sensitive target than Duke's fly.
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It was a bit hard to scratch harder with what little space there was between Duke and the bulkhead, but he tried, scraping down.
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"You said --" he gasped after a moment. "-- something about -- bending me over?"
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And so he did.
Quite enthusiastically, actually. Managed to drag it out a bit too.
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(Later, Duke would probably feel a little guilty about that. About leaning into that side of Lucifer. Right now, he wasn't thinking or feeling anything but how good it felt to just live in his body for awhile, instead of in his head.)
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(He would, however, feel a bit guilty later about being dissuaded from talking to Duke properly so easily again.)
As it was, he leaned back against the bulkhead, legs splayed out across the floor, and let out a happy sigh.
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