Ficlet: OC Valentine's meme, question 6 (Medinn)
This sort of thing always happens when I ought to sleep or, as now, bullshit another three pages on emergy and climate change into existence before I get an F for Failure to Fucking Accomplish Anything.
Title: Best-Looking Couple in My Arsenal (for the Valentine's meme that I will finish... eventually)
Storyline: Medinn (original sort of fantasy)
Characters: The Jackal and the Morningstar (Het-Assam), plus Kemar
What: 341 words of Kemar's wet dreams, containing mythological figures. Amazingly, no italics. I don't know if it's good or bad, but I like it anyway. (Fic because there's no way I'mma try to draw these two yet.)
Warnings: Gratuitous description overload, het.
In Kemar’s dreams, the Morningstar had eyes of embers and polished beads and oiled skin, as brilliant as her father in the sky. Her hair was long and black as Jackal’s Stone, and in his dreams Kemar saw her with it loose, a river in the night framing her glowing body, her dark-wood skin. She was strong, Het-Assam, for she was no child; and her breasts were full and high as those of a young girl, her belly soft and round, her buttocks firm and wide. When she smiled, her lips stretched across her face and parted to show her white teeth, and when she did not smile their curve was enough to distract even from her breasts. Her hands shaped fire and tree, her feet found purchase on every rock. In his dreams, Kemar saw her look over her shoulder and laugh, and he wanted to bury himself against the shape of her waist and hips.
In his dreams also, Kemar saw the Jackal, still the Jackal, with his long hair in the braids that had once carried Fire. They gleamed in whatever light there was in dreams, and as the Jackal smiled his teeth, too, gleamed, sharp and laughing. The Jackal threw his broad shoulders back and laughed all danger in the face, and no harm came to him. He was strong, because no man could have a woman such as the Morningstar if he could not carry her through hard times, and his legs were long and made for running after prey or the wind. The Jackal’s hands raised lightning and spears to the sky, and he might have had a tail and he might not have. Even dreaming, Kemar couldn’t say if his eyes were yellow, green or black, but they saw all.
And in Kemar’s dreams, the Jackal kissed Het-Assam deeply, as a man would his woman when none other was looking, and they pressed Kemar to them until he couldn’t say whose hands held him or whose lips burned against his own.
Title: Best-Looking Couple in My Arsenal (for the Valentine's meme that I will finish... eventually)
Storyline: Medinn (original sort of fantasy)
Characters: The Jackal and the Morningstar (Het-Assam), plus Kemar
What: 341 words of Kemar's wet dreams, containing mythological figures. Amazingly, no italics. I don't know if it's good or bad, but I like it anyway. (Fic because there's no way I'mma try to draw these two yet.)
Warnings: Gratuitous description overload, het.
In Kemar’s dreams, the Morningstar had eyes of embers and polished beads and oiled skin, as brilliant as her father in the sky. Her hair was long and black as Jackal’s Stone, and in his dreams Kemar saw her with it loose, a river in the night framing her glowing body, her dark-wood skin. She was strong, Het-Assam, for she was no child; and her breasts were full and high as those of a young girl, her belly soft and round, her buttocks firm and wide. When she smiled, her lips stretched across her face and parted to show her white teeth, and when she did not smile their curve was enough to distract even from her breasts. Her hands shaped fire and tree, her feet found purchase on every rock. In his dreams, Kemar saw her look over her shoulder and laugh, and he wanted to bury himself against the shape of her waist and hips.
In his dreams also, Kemar saw the Jackal, still the Jackal, with his long hair in the braids that had once carried Fire. They gleamed in whatever light there was in dreams, and as the Jackal smiled his teeth, too, gleamed, sharp and laughing. The Jackal threw his broad shoulders back and laughed all danger in the face, and no harm came to him. He was strong, because no man could have a woman such as the Morningstar if he could not carry her through hard times, and his legs were long and made for running after prey or the wind. The Jackal’s hands raised lightning and spears to the sky, and he might have had a tail and he might not have. Even dreaming, Kemar couldn’t say if his eyes were yellow, green or black, but they saw all.
And in Kemar’s dreams, the Jackal kissed Het-Assam deeply, as a man would his woman when none other was looking, and they pressed Kemar to them until he couldn’t say whose hands held him or whose lips burned against his own.