archivaltm

INDEPENDENT,  PRIVATE,  &  SELECTIVE  MULTI-MUSE.  LOW  ACTIVITY / SLOW  REPLY.  ICONLESS  AS  OF  11/14/21.

established.  8/29/2021   |   tracking.   archival™   |  written  by.  alex,  30+,  pst.

featuring  muses  from  dc  &  marvel  comics,  dune,  the  raven  cycle,  prison  break,  criminal  minds,  dark  angel,  tvd / the  originals,  &  original  characters. ​ can  also  be  found  at  @atreidestm​ 

C A R R D  ( under  co. )

there’s  a  gruff  growl  ellis  latches  onto  and  notches  behind  his  teeth,  leaning  his  weight  back,  tipping  the  chair  he  was  in  to  balance  on  two  wooden  legs.  he  wants  to  spit,  wants  to  curse,  wants  rile  quinn  up  until  he  submits  to  reason  and  comes  back  to  the  shores  of  sanity.    ❝ —  no  need  for  your  lies  or  your  games, ❞   he  finally  sees  fit  to  reply,  eyes  refusing  to  see  anything  but  the  sign  hanging  over  the  bar.  EVERYONE  DESERVES  ANOTHER  SHOT.  the  lord  above  sure  did  have  a  twisted  sense  of  humor.  it  was  a  good  thing  the  clock  had  chimed  well  past  3  a.m.  and  even  the  barkeep  had  seen  himself  to  bed,  leaving  them  with  the  rest  of  an  nondescript  brown  bottle.  in  one  jerky  and  aggravated  motion  he  sweeps  the  dingy  lowball  glass  filled  with  cheap  whiskey  from  the  table  and  empties  it  between  chapped  lips.  they’d  only  been  back  on  civilized  soil  for  a  fortnight  and  already  quin  couldn’t  keep  from  plots  and  schemes.   ❝ if  you’re  gonna  go,  then  go!  i  already  told  y’  i  ain’t  wastin’  my  time  with  any  o’  it. ❞

It’s neither the call nor the caller that Declan’s expecting. Or, more correctly, he’d not been expecting any calls today, not on this phone anyway. Normally when there are buyers he knows about them ahead of time. And there’s no fairy markets coming up, not on his calendar anyway, and they would be on his calendar. He eyes the phone and lets it ring before picking up. Normally he’d start with a curt, ‘Lynch.’ But normally he’d recognize the caller’s number. Best not to play his cards too early. After a moment the person finally speaks.

It takes him a moment to piece it together. Friend of my father.  He’d saved most of the old contacts and kept the old number when he transferred Niall’s business to his name—unofficially, of course, none of this business was above the table—but there were those he’d let escape into the ether. Either numbers he himself didn’t recognize or those presumed dead or otherwise inactive they’d not been heard from in so long. Or those that Niall simply, for one reason or another, purposefully hadn’t included Declan in business with. Niall was an asshole like that. It was that sort of sneaky behavior that got him killed and might get his sons killed. Not that Declan intended to go down easily. He wonders which of the contacts this callers father would have fallen under. But, if Declan knows anything about reading tone—as emotionless as his brother might accuse him of being—he thinks he knows where this is going.

“If you’re calling for Niall,” Declan says, at length, voice carefully neutral, “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news in return. You’ve reached his son.” There is a juxtaposition to this. This other person has not even identified themselves and here Declan is throwing his father’s name around. But if this person were a threat, they’d know about Niall and his subsequent fate already. “To whom am I speaking?”

There is an alertness at the sound of water pouring, her focus fully formed around the sensation. The blue-within-blue of her eyes focus on the glass in his hands. Against the dim light of the suspensor lamp they looked like the depths of space, the reflection of the light illuminated like stars.

                                                                    It was as if the universe rested in those eyes.

She does not speak, merely staring at the glass and its implications. She isn’t sure  if he understands what he is offering. She already wore his counters ( counters that had belonged to Muad’Dib before him).  the  Tahaddi Challenge had been fought and the forms had been met. But this, this ,was different.

 They weren’t even children anymore.  They were no longer in the stages of the marriage of youth. or even exiting them. There was no need for such a peaceful custom.

               This does not stop a flush from coming to her cheeks.

She cannot comprehend how casually he held the cup, especially so openly as if such a thing was so easy to come by. He offers the water in the way that all young men do to win their wives. as if to say “ I give you my life”.

“I am your wife.” she responds all at once, her eyes finding it difficult to leave the water. it is with careful and gentle hands, worn smooth from the desert sand, that the takes the cup, hoping he understood the tradition and implications that came with such an action.

                                         “what does that make you to me?”

there’s a gentle smile upon his face. he can’t remember the last time he felt so free despite being a man out of time. the culture and customs where a shock to get used to but even nik found himself slipping into a familiar routine after some time.

he skirts his hand over her shoulder and down her arm. she’s soft and warm in the midday sun, he wishes he had more artistic skills so he could sketch her like this. but all his knowledge lies between pages of books. he lets his fingers trail over her, mapping the dips and divots of her body. it makes him shudder, desire pooling hot in his stomach. but he doesn’t have any desire to do anything about it. nothing major.

nik leans down finally, when his hand finally rests on her hip, the other propping himself up in the grass next to her.  “is that so?” he asks, voice soft, barely above a whisper. “i suppose it’s a good thing i feel the same way.” his smile grows, dimples forming on his face.

before he can chicken out nik dips down pressing his lips against hers. she’s soft just how he imagined. and he had imagined it, numerous times over the course of his stay. she was beautiful, she was fierce. who needed to worship a goddess when he had her.