4: Fire & Ice: Phlegethon Hades/Omnia
By soloecal, for peridium. Self? This isn't actually what I meant to present you with, but -- well. It happened anyway. Try and ignore my failure, plz. ♥ Also, this is probably NSFW. You've been warned.
Fire & Ice
The girl was, first and foremost, a startling presence. Clad all in black with touches of silver, there was no question as to her parentage. She was a daughter of the night and heads turned wherever she went when she cared to be noticed. There was more to her than that, however, and whatever it was intrigued him even as it made his blood turn cold.
She knew who (and what) he was immediately, of course. The man was a murderer and a thief and had she been in a worse mood, she might have at least considered materializing her gun and sending a bullet into his temple. As it was, her day had been quite pleasant and, after all, she always did enjoy the sort of people who could come up with unique ways of spilling blood. Were she anyone but herself, not shooting him in that moment might have been her fatal mistake.
Neither spoke as they watched one another, light hazel eyes locked on deep brown ones. Her gaze was icy, emotion being a foreign thing to her and his smoldered with resentment and rage. They stayed like that for what could have been an eternity and what might have been but a few moments until his hand twitched.
"I wouldn't do that," she said softly. He couldn't be certain whether or not her mouth had moved at all for how still she remained.
A lesser man might have shivered at the intensity of her gaze, but he was not the sort of man that anyone called "lesser" if they planned to live. Instead, he simply raised a single eyebrow. "Wouldn't do what?"
The look she gave him so completely informed him that she thought he was an idiot that she saw no point in actually stating it. "Actually, I take that back. It might be amusing to see you try."
He didn't lower the eyebrow. "You honestly think you intimidate me, little girl?" Faster than most could dream of moving, he pulled her arms behind her back, closing a pair of handcuffs about her wrists.
Normal people would panic at that point. Being the absolute anti-thesis of normal, she simply laughed and then, in the minuscule fraction of a second that it took for him to blink, the handcuffs had mysteriously disappeared and she was holding a gun to his temple -- his gun. A thin smile spread across her face. "I told you I wouldn't do that, so let me make myself absolutely clear. There is no reason why I should refrain from sending this bullet through your head; I have more than motive enough and you're starting to piss me off to the point where I would very much enjoy doing so. I'm feeling strangely merciful at the moment, however, so you can feel free to attempt to convince me to permit you to carry on with your miserable life."
To the human eye, he was nothing like unsettled. Grabbing the wrist that held the gun, he pulled her hand down and her closer in order to kiss her soundly. She pulled the trigger, sending the first bullet skidding across the floor behind them. For the first time, it might have been the case that someone had managed to catch her off guard.
She absolutely was not going to let him get away with that. Shifting forward, she pressed her body against his and gripped his shirt in her free hand. Their teeth ground together, for neither was willing to give off even the impression of having surrendered. He dug his nails into the inside of her wrist, drawing forth the ichor that flowed through her veins and she bit his lip open, growing less tense (though no less alert) at the taste of his blood.
He pulled back, in desperate need of oxygen. His breath came in shallow gasps and had she not stopped her body's breath entirely, she would have been doing the same. "Fuck," one of them said, or perhaps both of them did. Their eyes met again and she let the gun fall to the floor.
"Actually," he said, "That sounds like a very good idea indeed."
She couldn't manage to laugh, and while she was perhaps meant to smile, she smirked at him instead. Anyone with any sense of physiology (or who was acutely tuned to the flow of blood) could tell that he wanted her and she knew she wanted nothing more in that moment than to make him hers.
Neither was surprised when the room around them faded into a rather nondescript bedroom. The room was not the point of this, it was the means to an end. They watched each other again for a while, both a bit uncertain. Whatever was about to happen, it would be nothing like anything they had known before. Eventually, she grew tired of the uncertainty that flooded the room and she slipped her shirt over her head and off of her body.
That spurred him to motion and he closed the distance between them once more, kissing her quickly before lowering his head to bite her neck. She inhaled sharply, vanishing his shirt and digging her nails into his shoulder. She clawed at his back and pulled him down onto the bed.
As he removed her bra and turned his mouth (and teeth) to her nipple, she fumbled with his belt. This was raw, this was primal, this was something that insisted that she treat it as she would did she not have the abilities that came with being a goddess. She did, however, allow herself to sharpen her nails with a thought in order to nick his stomach before she finished removing his pants.
He pulled back to look at her and she leaned upwards for another kiss. There was nothing gentle about it -- it was nearly all teeth and her craving for the taste of his blood. He managed to get her skirt off of her body without damaging it too badly (perhaps luckily for his life), but couldn't be bothered to do more than rip her panties from her body.
He glanced at her briefly, in search of not permission but consent. She nodded her permission and he entered her. As soon as he began thrusting, she twisted and flipped him onto his back. Pinning him to the bed, she hovered above him, forcing him to push his hips upward if he wished to stay fully within her.
Cursing her under his breath, he scratched at her side and sunk his teeth into her arm. She snarled and raked her nails down his chest. He took advantage of her releasing him to roll so that she was once more beneath him as he flicked his thumb across one of her nipples and gripped the other with his teeth. He was thrusting faster and she gasped, arching upwards. Biting his shoulder to keep herself from a rather undignified scream, she came. He followed suit soon after.
No words were spoken as they lay there in a tangle of sweat and blood and other fluids, but some of his fire had entered her and melted a little of the ice that ruled her.
Fire & Ice
The girl was, first and foremost, a startling presence. Clad all in black with touches of silver, there was no question as to her parentage. She was a daughter of the night and heads turned wherever she went when she cared to be noticed. There was more to her than that, however, and whatever it was intrigued him even as it made his blood turn cold.
She knew who (and what) he was immediately, of course. The man was a murderer and a thief and had she been in a worse mood, she might have at least considered materializing her gun and sending a bullet into his temple. As it was, her day had been quite pleasant and, after all, she always did enjoy the sort of people who could come up with unique ways of spilling blood. Were she anyone but herself, not shooting him in that moment might have been her fatal mistake.
Neither spoke as they watched one another, light hazel eyes locked on deep brown ones. Her gaze was icy, emotion being a foreign thing to her and his smoldered with resentment and rage. They stayed like that for what could have been an eternity and what might have been but a few moments until his hand twitched.
"I wouldn't do that," she said softly. He couldn't be certain whether or not her mouth had moved at all for how still she remained.
A lesser man might have shivered at the intensity of her gaze, but he was not the sort of man that anyone called "lesser" if they planned to live. Instead, he simply raised a single eyebrow. "Wouldn't do what?"
The look she gave him so completely informed him that she thought he was an idiot that she saw no point in actually stating it. "Actually, I take that back. It might be amusing to see you try."
He didn't lower the eyebrow. "You honestly think you intimidate me, little girl?" Faster than most could dream of moving, he pulled her arms behind her back, closing a pair of handcuffs about her wrists.
Normal people would panic at that point. Being the absolute anti-thesis of normal, she simply laughed and then, in the minuscule fraction of a second that it took for him to blink, the handcuffs had mysteriously disappeared and she was holding a gun to his temple -- his gun. A thin smile spread across her face. "I told you I wouldn't do that, so let me make myself absolutely clear. There is no reason why I should refrain from sending this bullet through your head; I have more than motive enough and you're starting to piss me off to the point where I would very much enjoy doing so. I'm feeling strangely merciful at the moment, however, so you can feel free to attempt to convince me to permit you to carry on with your miserable life."
To the human eye, he was nothing like unsettled. Grabbing the wrist that held the gun, he pulled her hand down and her closer in order to kiss her soundly. She pulled the trigger, sending the first bullet skidding across the floor behind them. For the first time, it might have been the case that someone had managed to catch her off guard.
She absolutely was not going to let him get away with that. Shifting forward, she pressed her body against his and gripped his shirt in her free hand. Their teeth ground together, for neither was willing to give off even the impression of having surrendered. He dug his nails into the inside of her wrist, drawing forth the ichor that flowed through her veins and she bit his lip open, growing less tense (though no less alert) at the taste of his blood.
He pulled back, in desperate need of oxygen. His breath came in shallow gasps and had she not stopped her body's breath entirely, she would have been doing the same. "Fuck," one of them said, or perhaps both of them did. Their eyes met again and she let the gun fall to the floor.
"Actually," he said, "That sounds like a very good idea indeed."
She couldn't manage to laugh, and while she was perhaps meant to smile, she smirked at him instead. Anyone with any sense of physiology (or who was acutely tuned to the flow of blood) could tell that he wanted her and she knew she wanted nothing more in that moment than to make him hers.
Neither was surprised when the room around them faded into a rather nondescript bedroom. The room was not the point of this, it was the means to an end. They watched each other again for a while, both a bit uncertain. Whatever was about to happen, it would be nothing like anything they had known before. Eventually, she grew tired of the uncertainty that flooded the room and she slipped her shirt over her head and off of her body.
That spurred him to motion and he closed the distance between them once more, kissing her quickly before lowering his head to bite her neck. She inhaled sharply, vanishing his shirt and digging her nails into his shoulder. She clawed at his back and pulled him down onto the bed.
As he removed her bra and turned his mouth (and teeth) to her nipple, she fumbled with his belt. This was raw, this was primal, this was something that insisted that she treat it as she would did she not have the abilities that came with being a goddess. She did, however, allow herself to sharpen her nails with a thought in order to nick his stomach before she finished removing his pants.
He pulled back to look at her and she leaned upwards for another kiss. There was nothing gentle about it -- it was nearly all teeth and her craving for the taste of his blood. He managed to get her skirt off of her body without damaging it too badly (perhaps luckily for his life), but couldn't be bothered to do more than rip her panties from her body.
He glanced at her briefly, in search of not permission but consent. She nodded her permission and he entered her. As soon as he began thrusting, she twisted and flipped him onto his back. Pinning him to the bed, she hovered above him, forcing him to push his hips upward if he wished to stay fully within her.
Cursing her under his breath, he scratched at her side and sunk his teeth into her arm. She snarled and raked her nails down his chest. He took advantage of her releasing him to roll so that she was once more beneath him as he flicked his thumb across one of her nipples and gripped the other with his teeth. He was thrusting faster and she gasped, arching upwards. Biting his shoulder to keep herself from a rather undignified scream, she came. He followed suit soon after.
No words were spoken as they lay there in a tangle of sweat and blood and other fluids, but some of his fire had entered her and melted a little of the ice that ruled her.