B5 FIC: i hear you (1/1)
queenspanky was over this evening and we had a lovely time watching S2 House and talking fandom and de-stressing, which was sorely needed. By brother is coming by tomorrow to fill in application forms - he's still on the Great Job Hunt (tm) - and so I need to get up early and clean the house and get started on revision otherwise it'll never get done. But, anyway, today was spent working on the cash flow statements of central government, which I am gradually getting the hang of. My goal is to be comfortable with the entirety of central government - cash flow statements, balance sheets and OCS/I&E - by the time school starts on Monday... which means that, given that I've read through the material already and am feeling tentatively happy with it, I'm spending tomorrow doing practice questions. Hey, the exam is in a week and a half, that's a good thing, right?
Just before I head to bed - something I'm reasonably sure I didn't post, but if I did, it's completely slipped my mind. It's kinda old, but one of my other goals is to get a move on re: the various claims I have on certain prompts, so...
TITLE: i hear you
SUMMARY: The voyage back: Lyta, G'Kar, and an unwelcome visitor.
fanfic100 prompt #35 'sixth sense'
On the voyage back, it only comes to her when she sleeps.
When awake - when aware and when prepared - she knows to keep her shields up. Some rebellious part of her hates it, but though it is painful and an inconvenience and - why should I, why should I? - she knows the alternative. What could be worse than to absorb another into her so completely? It had nearly come to that once, maybe twice before; the overwhelming need to crawl inside another's skin somewhat problematic when she could manage it easily enough. Once, maybe twice, and she could have worn him as a second skin, draped about her shoulders as easily as she wears her coat; one G'Kar skin layered on top of the other, fury and nobility and devotion until she knows that she would have gladly entered the airlock to rid herself of him. No; she knows the alternative well enough. It, too, is a nightmare ever-present.
She girdles her mind, building the walls as high as they will go, and cannot admit that it is only partly out of self-preservation. For G'Kar, sleeping next to her on the bunk, has done nothing to her that was not out of kindness, and it would be cruel to repay him in this manner.
And, still… What makes you think that 'telepath' is a synonym for 'peeping tom'? Though how can it be only that, only a puerile need for tawdriness - she is not, she knows it, she is not, and why would she want to know G'Kar's sordid little secrets? Why ruin this new image he projects by burrowing into his thoughts to seek out those twisted, base images that reside in all minds? - no, indeed. It cannot be that simple, not that she is above it all. It is self-preservation, she thinks; she would not wish to wear a G'Kar-skin coat, all mottled flesh and endless sacrifice, no, not even to be as adored as he.
It is only when asleep and only after orgasm, that it comes to her: sharp eye-teeth digging into that tough, mottled hide.
There are, perhaps, other reasons to keep G'Kar outside of her wall, bricks and mortar and the barbed wire of bitterness.
The first time, she put it out of her mind as a stray thought: the debris of living.
I had the strangest thought, the other day, she started to say to him, but did not. He didn't even notice, busy writing his devotion to the universe.
The second time, she paused and wondered at the coincidence.
I had the strangest thought, G'Kar, only it was an accident, and -
The third time, she dismissed it as a kink.
I didn't think that it was the sort of thing you'd be into - but still G’Kar wrote placidly, his entire being focused on his labour.
The fourth time, G'Kar still buried inside her, eyes wide open and still gasping his completion, she felt the sense-memory crawl underneath her skin. Sharp eye-teeth, and she pulled back with a haste that was almost painful.
"What - did you -" and he cannot complete the thought though he sees it, plainly enough. She did not think that Narns could blanch but there it is, writ across his face, his irises contracting in mortification.
They stopped after that; G'Kar did not wish to discuss it and, frankly, the very thought was enough to turn her stomach.
The fifth time, she pushed the thought away before it could intrude on her dream.
Those sharp teeth fixed on the side of the neck as deft hands unlaced the leather vest that G’Kar always wore -
She turned to glare at his sleeping form and wished him nightmares.
The sixth time almost cost G'Kar his other eye when she lashed out in her sleep, pushing those terrible, frightening teeth away.
The seventh was when she broke and changed their course, because the teeth were there but now she could feel the kiss that followed and - no. No. This could not continue. Not every night. Not every time she closed her eyes.
Londo Mollari would not be making this journey with them.
*
fin
Just before I head to bed - something I'm reasonably sure I didn't post, but if I did, it's completely slipped my mind. It's kinda old, but one of my other goals is to get a move on re: the various claims I have on certain prompts, so...
TITLE: i hear you
SUMMARY: The voyage back: Lyta, G'Kar, and an unwelcome visitor.
fanfic100 prompt #35 'sixth sense'
On the voyage back, it only comes to her when she sleeps.
When awake - when aware and when prepared - she knows to keep her shields up. Some rebellious part of her hates it, but though it is painful and an inconvenience and - why should I, why should I? - she knows the alternative. What could be worse than to absorb another into her so completely? It had nearly come to that once, maybe twice before; the overwhelming need to crawl inside another's skin somewhat problematic when she could manage it easily enough. Once, maybe twice, and she could have worn him as a second skin, draped about her shoulders as easily as she wears her coat; one G'Kar skin layered on top of the other, fury and nobility and devotion until she knows that she would have gladly entered the airlock to rid herself of him. No; she knows the alternative well enough. It, too, is a nightmare ever-present.
She girdles her mind, building the walls as high as they will go, and cannot admit that it is only partly out of self-preservation. For G'Kar, sleeping next to her on the bunk, has done nothing to her that was not out of kindness, and it would be cruel to repay him in this manner.
And, still… What makes you think that 'telepath' is a synonym for 'peeping tom'? Though how can it be only that, only a puerile need for tawdriness - she is not, she knows it, she is not, and why would she want to know G'Kar's sordid little secrets? Why ruin this new image he projects by burrowing into his thoughts to seek out those twisted, base images that reside in all minds? - no, indeed. It cannot be that simple, not that she is above it all. It is self-preservation, she thinks; she would not wish to wear a G'Kar-skin coat, all mottled flesh and endless sacrifice, no, not even to be as adored as he.
It is only when asleep and only after orgasm, that it comes to her: sharp eye-teeth digging into that tough, mottled hide.
There are, perhaps, other reasons to keep G'Kar outside of her wall, bricks and mortar and the barbed wire of bitterness.
The first time, she put it out of her mind as a stray thought: the debris of living.
I had the strangest thought, the other day, she started to say to him, but did not. He didn't even notice, busy writing his devotion to the universe.
The second time, she paused and wondered at the coincidence.
I had the strangest thought, G'Kar, only it was an accident, and -
The third time, she dismissed it as a kink.
I didn't think that it was the sort of thing you'd be into - but still G’Kar wrote placidly, his entire being focused on his labour.
The fourth time, G'Kar still buried inside her, eyes wide open and still gasping his completion, she felt the sense-memory crawl underneath her skin. Sharp eye-teeth, and she pulled back with a haste that was almost painful.
"What - did you -" and he cannot complete the thought though he sees it, plainly enough. She did not think that Narns could blanch but there it is, writ across his face, his irises contracting in mortification.
They stopped after that; G'Kar did not wish to discuss it and, frankly, the very thought was enough to turn her stomach.
The fifth time, she pushed the thought away before it could intrude on her dream.
Those sharp teeth fixed on the side of the neck as deft hands unlaced the leather vest that G’Kar always wore -
She turned to glare at his sleeping form and wished him nightmares.
The sixth time almost cost G'Kar his other eye when she lashed out in her sleep, pushing those terrible, frightening teeth away.
The seventh was when she broke and changed their course, because the teeth were there but now she could feel the kiss that followed and - no. No. This could not continue. Not every night. Not every time she closed her eyes.
Londo Mollari would not be making this journey with them.
*
fin