permanent open post

[turtleen]

Muselist here

This post comes with several options:
1) Give me a prompt
2) Give me a blank response and I'll go with something

And within those options:
A) Just post with one of your characters and I'll choose which of mine
B) Ask for whoever you want of mine but leave yours up to me
C) Several options for either
D) I can even pick for both maybe

You can leave something to be done now, or maybe down the line sometime, YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN I MIGHT STRIKE or maybe you do...

Also use this for whatever memes or PSL stuff you want to spring on me any time.

Comments

[depicted]

[Instead of answering, Dorian looks up at him, almost—hopeful?]

Do you mean the things he does? I mean do you—if he does something. Is it really something you'd want to do?

[cagedinflesh]

[Oh- there's a loaded question. Jekyll presses his lips together, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. It's a pause that's just a bit too long before he answers.]

That...depends. No, I simply do not know, for a certainty, in most cases. Some, yes, others, no, but largely...I have no answer myself.

[depicted]

[Dorian is very quiet. His eyes flicker down, then back up again. He bites his lower lip.]

I should like to talk to him again, perhaps. Would that be all right, Henry?

[cagedinflesh]

[He thinks about it for a moment, but finally nods.]

So long as you feel comfortable with that. ...Should you discover anything, you will tell me, won't you?

[depicted]

[He reaches up, pushes to boldness to touch Jekyll's cheek.] I will, I promise.

[cagedinflesh]

[Taken by surprise, his cheeks flush more than he would like, and so there's some eagerness to escape to his bolder self, who doesn't feel shame. And then he smiles.]

My turn already?

[depicted]

[Dorian flushes immediately and draws his hand back.]

I don't mean to drag you back and forth, I just didn't—think it was right of me, to send you away like that for the sake of my own—embarrassment. It was unkind. I apologize.

[cagedinflesh]

You are already forgiven, Dorian.

[But he won't allow that gap to be closed so easily. To make up for Dorian's hand, he steps forward.]

For the record, whether or not he would like to admit it, my feelings and actions are his own desires.

[depicted]

[Flickering eyes and flickering lashes, settling on Hyde's eyes, even as Dorian breathes in long with heat at his cheeks. And he speaks very, very quietly.] I don't know if that should disturb me about one of you, or comfort me about the other.

[cagedinflesh]

Perhaps both.

[Hyde may as well take his opportunity. Repeating Dorian's gesture, he reaches out to touch his cheek, but with another half step forward, kisses his lips - gingerly walking on eggshells, and yet set in self-confidence at once.]

[depicted]

[And Dorian wants him to.

His eyes are wide, his arms still by his side. His fingers are paralyzed half-curled, his lips only just parted, not answering back. He can't breathe. Edward Hyde has his mouth over his. It is careful, and it is delicate. But this is the mouth that kissed him once before. That is the hand that reached down for his throat, strangled him in satisfaction. This is the forest where he died.

Those half-parted lips release the quietest whimper, half-choked, half-forgotten.

But his hand reaches out to somehow find itself against Hyde's chest.]

[cagedinflesh]

[No matter how much he appreciates Dorian now, still, hearing that whimper sends a shiver through him, for the excitement of it. He wouldn't do it again...and yet he would. To someone else. This is too precious to scare away, it's a sort of friendship he wishes to nurture. But that reaction is still so sweet. Perhaps moreso for the apparent willingness to allow just the opposite.

An arm snakes around Dorian's waist to bring him closer, very nearly involuntary amidst the intoxication of that hint of fear.]

[depicted]

[He is answered with another soft noise, Dorian's own involuntary response, an utterance at once weighted by his terror and lifted by his desire. He moves his hand from Hyde's chest to wrap his arm around Hyde's neck, but the movements are jerky, uncertain. Little tremors run from the crook of Dorian's arm to the back of Hyde's neck.

Dorian squeezes his eyes shut tight, and for a moment he presses his lips closed too. Then he opens them wide to Hyde's will.]

[cagedinflesh]

[He couldn't have asked for any better response. Willing enough that he doesn't seem likely to be scared off in the future, despite the fear here and now. And how sweet that fear is. There may be nothing Hyde loves better than that, a predator who plays with his food first.

His eyes remain open just a sliver, enough to watch Dorian, especially when he stops to purr against Dorian's lips.]

I am your knight, Dorian.

[depicted]

[The warm breath of Hyde's promise fills up his throat, his lungs. The entire idea is dizzying. Hyde killed him. Hyde protects him. Hyde betrayed him. Hyde will play his loyal knight. Dorian feels his lungs stagger with his heart, the convoluted murmur—I want, I don't want, I want, I don't want—and his cheeks flush full red and warm as he keeps Hyde close to him.

He opens his eyes, wide and glassy. The edge of hope and fear. Yet he talks like a little prince.]

Then serve me.

[cagedinflesh]

I would be glad to.

[Let it not be said he is an entirely selfish lover - that is, so long as he cares about the other to some extent... It can be just as fun now and then not to focus solely on himself, when there is cause. And for Dorian, that may be even more so. How better to serve him.

But this is still Hyde, and he can still only act at being a gentleman. Which is inevitably forgotten, and quickly. As far as he's concerned, he's been given the go ahead, and he takes if before it can be retracted. Hyde keeps Dorian close with the arm around him, and slips the other under clothing to explore what he will, biting at Dorian's neck.]

[depicted]

[Dorian is open and sensitive to Hyde's touch. He is fresh to such contact, experienced with it only once before, and there in limited forms. All his skin seems to shimmer in anticipation, every inch tingling with an electric anticipation—the anticipation of a young lover and the anticipation a frozen doe. Everywhere Hyde's fingers go, muscles contract, pulling back and then pressing forward—I want, I don't want, I want, I don't want—in that hazy, confused state.

But the little shudders never do pull Dorian out of Hyde's grip, and Dorian does try to answer them. He keeps his arm around Hyde's shoulders, half to keep himself steadied and standing, and he reaches his other chest to Hyde's waist—hesitating, uncertain in every gesture. His fingers slid under Hyde's shirt is a shivering imitation of Hyde's own exploration, an attempt to play at readiness for Hyde's advanced, to prove himself a match even where he is so outpaced.

He still mewls in shocked and pained pleasure when Hyde takes a bite.]

[cagedinflesh]

[The inexperience may be painfully obvious, to the extent that a better person might feel badly for Dorian, might slow down and ease into it for him. Guide him along and maybe even confirm with him. But Hyde doesn't care at all, it amuses him the way Dorian tries to keep up and act as if he has any idea what he's doing. He'll just have to have quite the learning curve. What better way to start than by pushing him to the forest floor.

With how aggressive Hyde is, a button or two might need mending by the time he's finished pulling at clothing. He doesn't bother to even try to really undress Dorian, only enough to put him in disarray, enough that there's skin to see and touch, rather than all covered up nice and proper. More neck and chest exposed to Hyde's mouth and teeth, for him to find as he holds himself up, bent over a boy he would kill.]

[depicted]

[The fall knocks the air out of him, leaves him breathless. Paralysed, then, frozen underneath him, as an unvoiced cry of builds up in his head—I don't want, I don't want, I don't want—and he feels as devoured as a prey animal, whimpering at every bite and left gripping tight to Hyde's clothing to try to keep himself steady. For the moment he can't recover, can't try to prove himself experienced as he tries to remember that Hyde won't kill him, Hyde swore to protect him, he is not going to die.]

[cagedinflesh]

[It's exhilarating for the predator to play with its food, and Hyde certainly looks like a snake snapping at the air beside some poor little rodent, coiled around it for no hope of escaping. And it's a light, airy grin and crooning voice that he looks up at Dorian with, interrupted for only a brief moment.]

Are you afraid of me, Dorian...?

[depicted]

[Dorian's breaths are staggered, heavy and panting. It isn't only from the exertion. His eyes are wide, pupils dilated. His skin is flushed deep red.

He doesn't loose his grip on Hyde's clothing, or even move at all.

Slowly, he says,] You are my knight.

[cagedinflesh]

Even so... [Dorian is already beautiful, of course, but all the more so now, disheveled, flushed and apparently in a panic he wants to deny. Hyde's fingers brush against his neck, a deliberate cruelty, but only for an instant before they follow his path down, to grip his hip, free hand curling around him.

YEAH HE'LL CHOKE HIM ALL RIGHT]

[depicted]

[In that instant, the cruelty is answered with a flinch—eyes shut, body recoiling, and then—

He doesn't see what is about to happen before it does. When his eyes open again, they set on Hyde's face. Trembling, he still rolls his hips up towards him.

Very carefully, he moves a hand that had gripped Hyde's shirt to rest around his neck. His thumb strokes down the line that splits it in centre, rests in the delicate hollow at the base.]

[cagedinflesh]

[Fear and pleasure should go hand in hand. For all that Hyde is deliberately fearsome, he is also equally aggressive with what he gives as what he takes. Although it may be that his giving is for selfish reasons - and so in the end, give and take are much the same thing. He wants it for his own enjoyment, in the end. Stroking Dorian with his fingers is only entertaining enough for a moment.

His neck presses back against Dorian's hand, as he moves to run his tongue along his prey, entertained by every small twitch and tremble - eyes always locked onto his face for its reactions. And he must wonder just how inexperienced the boy is, what is new to him, and what may not be. Maybe he can find out if he pays attention.]

[depicted]

[It is all new to him, all fresh, all unknown. Constance was smooth, elegant, careful. Hyde is aggressive, monstrous even, unlike anything he has ever known except the viciousness that leads to death. So Dorian's face is an open book even as he squeezes his eyes shut again, and every gasp and whimper tells itself without any more disguise than Dorian's poor attempts to insist that he is capable of matching this, that he is more than prey but a predator in his own right. The hand that tightens around Hyde's throat, presses down into the hollow of it, is as much reflex, desperate hope for something stabilizing. The fingers that scratch down Hyde's back are as much the desperate clawing of a caught bird as they are the voice of lust.

And even then he opens himself wider to Hyde, spreads his legs and twists them in craving more touch, raises his chest and turns his head wanting more teeth. The single word, begging,] Please, [could as easily be a cry for more as it might be a cry for Hyde to stop.]