Commentary time the second!
Oct. 24th, 2007 02:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emeraldembersA Flirt with the Wild Side - Author's Commentary
by Emerald Embers
Rated R for yaoi.
Non-profit fan-fiction
I apologise for the fact that, to be perfectly honest, there's no interesting story behind the title of this one. I'm not sure what inspired it or anything! It just... happened like that ^^. Ho-hum!
Futomimi wasn't fond of strong reactions - not in himself. It was often too painful to feel, given so much of his energy went on fighting his visions and controlling the instability of his body to prevent him spasming like other manikins. As such, he tended to keep a tight reign on his emotions, driving himself according to the more hopeful visions or doing as his new master requested.
It might seem a little strange to characterise Futomimi this way, but I tend to imagine that after coming back from the dead (... again), he'd be aware of his past at least on some fundamental level and controlling himself very tightly would help him cope with those sort of memories. Besides, the idea of him being very self-controlled fits with the idea of him being the only manikin who doesn't have that body fidget and the fact his visions haven't driven him totally mental. He's a tough little thing, Futomimi.
Oh, and it's a bit of an odd turn of phrase, but I referred to Naoki as his new master because Futomimi's not had a master before - it's not meant to infer he had a different master at some other point.
Still, new experiences can shock a reaction out of the most reserved people, and there was no denying Naoki when he gestured for you to join him. Even when - as in this case - he wanted you to join him on the back of a flame-wheeled motorcycle that he'd dislodged a disgruntled-looking fiend from.
Ow, second person! I think it works okay for its brief usage here but I am the worst, worst person in the world for leaping between different persons and tenses while writing and sometimes there's no way I can change the tense/person to fix the rest of the fic without losing the effect of the original sentences. I still get the giggles at the idea of Naoki taking the bike but really, it was going to be the Hell Rider's bike or the Harlot's dragon, and I think Naoki would have a bit less trouble getting the hang of a bike than a dragon. Besides, I would bet money Dante's been teaching him (if probably not including any safety tips) how to ride.
The bike could certainly move with astonishing speed, leaving many aggressive and confused creatures in their wake as they tore across the desert lands.
Very weirdly, this whole scene with the bike while it's travelling I wasn't actually there with Naoki and Futomimi; I was watching. I think that's probably because I'm not familiar with speed myself but I see cars and motorbikes tearing past in the area I live all the time so I've got much more of an observer's view of them. Incidentally, I keep using 'bike' as a shortening for motorbike despite it being a bit of an England-ism (apparently) because 'motorcycle' is too syllable-filled to keep using all the time and I don't know any other decent shortenings for motorcycle :)! Sometimes I make sacrifices for across the pond (mom instead of mum... yuck), but sometimes I think sod it. On a total aside, I've grown quite fond of 'honor' spelt american-style without the u, but I blame Lupa and Gale for that.
Naoki had glanced at him for a second before slowing down a little and reaching with the hand that wasn't controlling the bike to pull Futomimi's hair-tie loose, grinning before returning his gaze to the horizon as Futomimi's hair started whipping about wildly in the air. Natural currents did not visit the circular world often and Futomimi had to admit, even if the rush of wind through his hair was only artificially generated by the speed of their ride, there was something exhilarating about the experience.
ADMIT IT. You, me, and everyone else on the entire planet secretly wants to see Futomimi's hair down. I'd bet money on it being utterly gorgeous. And wind blowing through your hair is the best feeling ever when it's long enough to whip about awesomely.
"Why this?" He had to yell, the roar of the bike's engine covering near all noise. A sensory onslaught - that's what it was, between the vibrations and the way details flashed by, barely registering in his eyes for a second. Strangely, any scent seemed covered up by the constant burn of the tyres, making him overly aware that all he could smell and see with clarity was Naoki, the demi-fiend's pale skin glistening with what would be sweat if the wind didn't keep carrying it away.
This bit definitely had a very excitedly sensual feel to it; I wanted to give a little bit of that sense of adrenaline rush. It pains me so much to realise that the note at the end about Naoki's skin and sweat on the wind is very close to a line at the end of... oh, I think it's Queen of the Damned? Either way, there's a scene near the end of one of Anne Rice's less sucky vampire novels where Louis and Lestat are flying and there's a scribbling about if Louis was crying his tears were being carried away on the wind. Sigh. Either way, I made it sweat, as opposed to tears, which is clearly more awesome and also gross. *dances*
Except I'm lying about the gross part. Fresh sweat, not so gross. If it were days old sweat or body odour sweat then it would be gross.
"I've made a decision," Naoki shouted back, pulling his bike over to... well, nowhere remarkable, although the top of the dunes fell backwards into the void outside the world.
I LOVE HOW THAT IS NOT REMARKABLE. I actually love anything like that in videogames or movies; I get SUCH vertigo, so bad it hurts my back because I clench up, but it's such an incredible visual the idea of water/sand/whatever just travelling over into nothing. It's why I love the cutscene about the world's end hardcore; the idea of everything just folding in on itself into nothing is awesome.
The air seemed empty, as though no one had visited since the world changed, but there was something soothing about the silence of the area - something clean about the sand even though he ought to hate how much it differed from the moisture and mud of Mifunashiro.
Normally I only have a vague idea of backgrounds - I tend to be as spatially unaware in fic as I am in real life - but there was something about this area I could really visualise and picture clearly. I wonder if I'd watched Lawrence of Arabia recently when writing this? Ah well. I am very much one of 'those desert-loving English' ;).
"I won't choose."
*innocent face* What do you mean I said "bog off" to everyone with a Reason in the game and made Naoki do the same?
Shock was definitely an unpleasant feeling regardless of its cause. "Naoki, you need a Reason," Futomimi stated, somewhat worried by his master's pleased expression. It felt reckless.
Naoki is actually high on adrenaline at this point, if you're wondering, and as close to grinning like a loon as he can be. A lot of the time I have a thing for writing him as very blank slate-ish, and unreadable, like a closed book. When I started out writing him he was completely amoral, but then it went to the blank slate deal. Still, whenever I write him with Futomimi he's always much more emotional - even if he goes blank slate around the others, something about Futomimi prods him into feeling much more intensely.
"I'll go to Kagutsuchi without one. You couldn't conceive a Reason and there's not one human Reason worth following."
TRUE FACTS. I wish there was a 'stab Chiaki in the eye' option on the action list. Sigh.
Naoki had snapped. It was the only reasonable explanation. "What about the next world?" Silence for a moment then, and Naoki turned around on the bike seat, reached up to run his hands through Futomimi's hair, not replying to the question. "You aren't supposed to have that freedom."
That's something I actually believe, in an odd way. Naoki has been given such a huge amount of responsibility - there's no way he should just be allowed to run around and do whatever he wants. But I don't blame him; he's hella young to be asked to do all this (probably the reason why he was chosen - get an emotional person with a fixed belief system to pick how the next world be made and who's to say they wouldn't say sod reasoning and just go with whatever's closest to what they believe already). And the gods and humans poking him around aren't exactly persuasive; it's so ironic that Futomimi is probably the only person in the game who could have genuinely persuaded you to follow his Reason but he never got one.
Naoki shrugged before planting a kiss on Futomimi's lips, and the manikin was abruptly reminded of how young the demi-fiend was. Most demons were ages old - even those that acted like children - and sometimes it was too easy to think of Naoki as being the same. A moment passed before Naoki broke the kiss, saying, "You don't taste like sand," in a genuinely surprised voice.
I can't remember if someone else came up with the idea of manikins tasting like sand but it makes sense in a mud-puppet sort of way. Still, I like the idea that despite their being made from mud they taste like people; I mean, in Norse mythology us lot come from giant sweat, so why not?
"What was that for?"
"I'll save you this time,"
OW. OW OW OW. And yet, in this version, I don't see Naoki being particularly upset over Futomimi having died and come back because he's young-acting enough in this that I think he'd be so OMG YAY YOU'RE ALIVE AGAIN that he'd lose sight a bit of the fact that, you know, alive again means he died earlier.
Naoki replied, lips barely inches from Futomimi's own so their breath mingled before he moved in for another kiss, sliding his tongue in this time and sighing quietly through his nose.
*pride at remembering sighing through the mouth while tongue-kissing is a bad idea*. I can't help thinking there's something oddly ironic that I've written less detailed kissing scenes since I had my first proper kiss of my own; although this does also lead to the panic that, oh god, if I ever get laid will I start sucking at writing smut? NOOOOOO!
Futomimi, meanwhile, was caught on that last expressed thought; remembering his death, how he'd known it would happen but had pleaded for Naoki's help regardless. On waking from his second death he knew everything - knew about his previous life, the crimes he had committed - and it had been strange viewing his lives from a new point of view. The first time he'd wanted love and attention but his visions prevented that from happening, made him a freak, and he'd rather have seen the ones who could have loved him dead than mocking him. Then the second life came where he was near worshipped by the manikins, loved for his leadership, but that wouldn't have come about without the visions either.
HOW WEIRD IS IT THAT I WROTE THAT WHOLE BIT BEFORE I PLAYED DIGITAL DEVIL SAGA? No, really. That's odd coincidence that I should go into so much detail about a previous life remembered from a new perspective and how it effects the most recent life when the NEXT ATLUS GAME I PLAYED went on about it forever.
Naoki was unique that way. Naoki knew of the visions, but didn't believe them to be freakish or divine. He just saw them as another ability - no more unusual than the demons with seductive or debilitating skills - and talked of Futomimi as an ally rather than 'the one with the foresight'.
Now there's a little bit of my global opinion on people in general. Not that, you know, I bump into many psychics in real life; just that it's incredibly easy for people (and in this world, demons and in-betweens) to categorise others by their abilities or backgrounds. But people aren't their abilities! People are people and they'd be fabulous and unique without their skills.
There was another moment when Naoki pulled back for the second time that Futomimi was reminded of his master's age; not in anything he said, but in his actions - embarrassment at arousal despite the two of them being alone and the fact Futomimi had not turned down him once so far. Knowing all too well that actions drew more attention than words, Futomimi slid a hand down Naoki's side to his hip, waiting for acceptance before he'd consider moving it any further.
HELLO THERE SEDUCTIVE FUTOMIMI. Boy, it would be nice if you turned up in more of my fics. Which you never do. And while I'm aware it could come across as a bit pervy that I'm mentioning Naoki being young in the same paragraph as WOO AROUSAL, I mean it in more of a general inexperience way here. Futomimi's got at least one spare life's memories to help him out. Also? Every time, ever, I've written smut where the characters don't talk during seduction makes me feel happy and accomplished. I used to suck at writing physical seduction so hard, but I think I've got a little more of a handle on things now.
Sweet god, did every phrase I use there come across as a terrible double entrendre?
AND WHY DID THAT LAST SENTENCE HAVE TO USE COME?
A shame he couldn't fully reciprocate given his own body hadn't been designed for procreation, but intimacy was something that could survive impotence and it was a delight in itself listening to the slight hitch in Naoki's breathing at the suggestion.
I'd like to thank Raziel from Soul Reaver and his lack of naughty bits for letting me practise this sort of idea. Also, tee-hee, I'm listening to Lean On Me while writing this part of the commentary. "You just call on me brother when you need a hand".
*is shot*
Naoki tended to quiet whenever actions were involved, as if speech and movement were mutually exclusive, and said nothing as he took Futomimi's hand from his waist and shifted it to the front of his shorts. Memories of fantasies in what seemed so distant a life now guided Futomimi's hand, squeezing and rubbing through material before pulling the shorts down enough to expose Naoki further, allowing direct contact. The first life would have wanted more, wanted pleas, professions of love first before granting any sort of satisfaction, but this seemed better somehow.
... Now, this bit? Is all kinds of messed up in an odd way. I just have a very intense image of Futomimi's previous life where he was a serial murderer who wanted desperately to be loved, and I have this idea that he never actually had sex with anyone back then because he wanted more than anything else for someone to say 'I love you' and mean it before he did. And life being what it is, I bet his previous self would have been sickened by the cattle market process of flirting in clubs and the like, and just... yeah. It's odd. There's such a schizophrenic view of humanity in this fic; I think it's the overall idea that individuals are awesome but society and societal traits can be and often are so very messed up.
Woah. Deep.
Watching Naoki balancing himself carefully so as not to fall off the bike, arched so his markings stretched taut and beautiful, breath uneven, all of it seemed more natural knowing he hadn't been forced to ask for it. The display wasn't for Futomimi's viewing pleasure alone, and that made it all the more delicious.
UM HI. I... yeah. That visual. It kills me every time. Naoki's markings pwn my tattoo fetish so very, very hard, and better than that they're so *specific* to my weakness which is thick black lines and either tendrils or symmetry. It's like the makers dipped into my mind and said "Ooh, hey, lets take every fetish except for wings - we can stick them on some other character or whatever - and MAKE A PERSON WITH IT. Oh, and make them a little bit young because then we can mock her discomfort". That's what they said. Honest truth. *insert disclaimer here*
Youth did mean stamina but it didn't demand endurance, and Naoki's stifled cry as he came over Futomimi's hand and his own chest helped to prevent their attracting any attention from a Principality that passed by. Probably a good thing on more than one level; the Divine set originated from a culture less tolerant of homosexuality than Naoki's, and it would have been unfortunate to cause any worsening of their already aggressive nature.
And allow me to do the "Embers disses religion despite being religious" dance here. *dances*. Honestly, I'm happy to be a Christian. I love God. I love Jesus. I love people. And that is why I suck at following any particular branch of religion (that I've come across to date), because I like doing that loving bit. I don't like the whole "Love thy neighbour UNLESS *insert reason here*" spiel that comes with being loyal to a church. It's a soapbox I frequent with depressing regularity and it's why I have so much fun attacking the hatred aspects of religion in fanfiction. Feel free to take offence but it's not like we'll be proven right until we die or there's a second coming!
That, and Futomimi would have taken an inordinate amount of pleasure in killing it and any allies it summoned to its side, all things considered what they had done to his people.
YES YES YES. Erm, am I the only person who deliberately took Futomimi into the ex-Mantra headquarters to level up for a bit just so that he could kick evil angel ass?
"We should get to a fountain," Naoki said at last, after a moment's rest to recover his strength. "I should."
I have NO IDEA what that correction comes from - Futomimi needs to clean up too if he's getting at what's on his chest. Sometimes characters say or do odd little things and I'm clueless as to why; and I suppose I should be bothered by the slightly schizo aspects of that but... I'm not. I like that I don't understand everything they do because it makes them feel more real to me. It's something I love about people; no matter how well you know someone they can still surprise you. *hearts*
A cough, and he pulled his shorts back up before turning around again, reacquainting himself with the bike's handles and pedals and completely failing to hide a small smile when Futomimi's hands closed over his. As the manikin's leader alone Futomimi would never have dreamt of behaving with such a lack of decorum, but the human memories did bring the reminder that sometimes manners were outright unimportant.
... *sniffles*. Honestly, I love smut. I have fun with it. But it's the little intimate details like the hands here which make writing worth it for me - I mean, there's a Lupa and Gale fic I've written recently and my favourite bit in the whole thing is way before the sex scene and it's just a note about Lupa loving to be close enough to Gale that he can smell him, and I think that bit is just so much sexier and more intimate than the sex scene.
It was strange that they'd ended up like this; both finding something they wanted - Naoki an answer, Futomimi a friend - given how it had happened. Futomimi had died twice to get there, and Naoki had watched the second death happen.
Yes, it was morbid. But finally getting what was wanted all along wouldn't have been half as satisfying if it had been easy.
And I finally get a reference to the prompt in XD. Oh, for shame, leaving it like that. But I'm pleased with how I worked it in; it's kind of hard to beat dying twice for struggling to get what you want! Unless, you're like, Captain Jack Harkness or something.
And that, my darling(s) is:
The End
by Emerald Embers
Rated R for yaoi.
Non-profit fan-fiction
I apologise for the fact that, to be perfectly honest, there's no interesting story behind the title of this one. I'm not sure what inspired it or anything! It just... happened like that ^^. Ho-hum!
Futomimi wasn't fond of strong reactions - not in himself. It was often too painful to feel, given so much of his energy went on fighting his visions and controlling the instability of his body to prevent him spasming like other manikins. As such, he tended to keep a tight reign on his emotions, driving himself according to the more hopeful visions or doing as his new master requested.
It might seem a little strange to characterise Futomimi this way, but I tend to imagine that after coming back from the dead (... again), he'd be aware of his past at least on some fundamental level and controlling himself very tightly would help him cope with those sort of memories. Besides, the idea of him being very self-controlled fits with the idea of him being the only manikin who doesn't have that body fidget and the fact his visions haven't driven him totally mental. He's a tough little thing, Futomimi.
Oh, and it's a bit of an odd turn of phrase, but I referred to Naoki as his new master because Futomimi's not had a master before - it's not meant to infer he had a different master at some other point.
Still, new experiences can shock a reaction out of the most reserved people, and there was no denying Naoki when he gestured for you to join him. Even when - as in this case - he wanted you to join him on the back of a flame-wheeled motorcycle that he'd dislodged a disgruntled-looking fiend from.
Ow, second person! I think it works okay for its brief usage here but I am the worst, worst person in the world for leaping between different persons and tenses while writing and sometimes there's no way I can change the tense/person to fix the rest of the fic without losing the effect of the original sentences. I still get the giggles at the idea of Naoki taking the bike but really, it was going to be the Hell Rider's bike or the Harlot's dragon, and I think Naoki would have a bit less trouble getting the hang of a bike than a dragon. Besides, I would bet money Dante's been teaching him (if probably not including any safety tips) how to ride.
The bike could certainly move with astonishing speed, leaving many aggressive and confused creatures in their wake as they tore across the desert lands.
Very weirdly, this whole scene with the bike while it's travelling I wasn't actually there with Naoki and Futomimi; I was watching. I think that's probably because I'm not familiar with speed myself but I see cars and motorbikes tearing past in the area I live all the time so I've got much more of an observer's view of them. Incidentally, I keep using 'bike' as a shortening for motorbike despite it being a bit of an England-ism (apparently) because 'motorcycle' is too syllable-filled to keep using all the time and I don't know any other decent shortenings for motorcycle :)! Sometimes I make sacrifices for across the pond (mom instead of mum... yuck), but sometimes I think sod it. On a total aside, I've grown quite fond of 'honor' spelt american-style without the u, but I blame Lupa and Gale for that.
Naoki had glanced at him for a second before slowing down a little and reaching with the hand that wasn't controlling the bike to pull Futomimi's hair-tie loose, grinning before returning his gaze to the horizon as Futomimi's hair started whipping about wildly in the air. Natural currents did not visit the circular world often and Futomimi had to admit, even if the rush of wind through his hair was only artificially generated by the speed of their ride, there was something exhilarating about the experience.
ADMIT IT. You, me, and everyone else on the entire planet secretly wants to see Futomimi's hair down. I'd bet money on it being utterly gorgeous. And wind blowing through your hair is the best feeling ever when it's long enough to whip about awesomely.
"Why this?" He had to yell, the roar of the bike's engine covering near all noise. A sensory onslaught - that's what it was, between the vibrations and the way details flashed by, barely registering in his eyes for a second. Strangely, any scent seemed covered up by the constant burn of the tyres, making him overly aware that all he could smell and see with clarity was Naoki, the demi-fiend's pale skin glistening with what would be sweat if the wind didn't keep carrying it away.
This bit definitely had a very excitedly sensual feel to it; I wanted to give a little bit of that sense of adrenaline rush. It pains me so much to realise that the note at the end about Naoki's skin and sweat on the wind is very close to a line at the end of... oh, I think it's Queen of the Damned? Either way, there's a scene near the end of one of Anne Rice's less sucky vampire novels where Louis and Lestat are flying and there's a scribbling about if Louis was crying his tears were being carried away on the wind. Sigh. Either way, I made it sweat, as opposed to tears, which is clearly more awesome and also gross. *dances*
Except I'm lying about the gross part. Fresh sweat, not so gross. If it were days old sweat or body odour sweat then it would be gross.
"I've made a decision," Naoki shouted back, pulling his bike over to... well, nowhere remarkable, although the top of the dunes fell backwards into the void outside the world.
I LOVE HOW THAT IS NOT REMARKABLE. I actually love anything like that in videogames or movies; I get SUCH vertigo, so bad it hurts my back because I clench up, but it's such an incredible visual the idea of water/sand/whatever just travelling over into nothing. It's why I love the cutscene about the world's end hardcore; the idea of everything just folding in on itself into nothing is awesome.
The air seemed empty, as though no one had visited since the world changed, but there was something soothing about the silence of the area - something clean about the sand even though he ought to hate how much it differed from the moisture and mud of Mifunashiro.
Normally I only have a vague idea of backgrounds - I tend to be as spatially unaware in fic as I am in real life - but there was something about this area I could really visualise and picture clearly. I wonder if I'd watched Lawrence of Arabia recently when writing this? Ah well. I am very much one of 'those desert-loving English' ;).
"I won't choose."
*innocent face* What do you mean I said "bog off" to everyone with a Reason in the game and made Naoki do the same?
Shock was definitely an unpleasant feeling regardless of its cause. "Naoki, you need a Reason," Futomimi stated, somewhat worried by his master's pleased expression. It felt reckless.
Naoki is actually high on adrenaline at this point, if you're wondering, and as close to grinning like a loon as he can be. A lot of the time I have a thing for writing him as very blank slate-ish, and unreadable, like a closed book. When I started out writing him he was completely amoral, but then it went to the blank slate deal. Still, whenever I write him with Futomimi he's always much more emotional - even if he goes blank slate around the others, something about Futomimi prods him into feeling much more intensely.
"I'll go to Kagutsuchi without one. You couldn't conceive a Reason and there's not one human Reason worth following."
TRUE FACTS. I wish there was a 'stab Chiaki in the eye' option on the action list. Sigh.
Naoki had snapped. It was the only reasonable explanation. "What about the next world?" Silence for a moment then, and Naoki turned around on the bike seat, reached up to run his hands through Futomimi's hair, not replying to the question. "You aren't supposed to have that freedom."
That's something I actually believe, in an odd way. Naoki has been given such a huge amount of responsibility - there's no way he should just be allowed to run around and do whatever he wants. But I don't blame him; he's hella young to be asked to do all this (probably the reason why he was chosen - get an emotional person with a fixed belief system to pick how the next world be made and who's to say they wouldn't say sod reasoning and just go with whatever's closest to what they believe already). And the gods and humans poking him around aren't exactly persuasive; it's so ironic that Futomimi is probably the only person in the game who could have genuinely persuaded you to follow his Reason but he never got one.
Naoki shrugged before planting a kiss on Futomimi's lips, and the manikin was abruptly reminded of how young the demi-fiend was. Most demons were ages old - even those that acted like children - and sometimes it was too easy to think of Naoki as being the same. A moment passed before Naoki broke the kiss, saying, "You don't taste like sand," in a genuinely surprised voice.
I can't remember if someone else came up with the idea of manikins tasting like sand but it makes sense in a mud-puppet sort of way. Still, I like the idea that despite their being made from mud they taste like people; I mean, in Norse mythology us lot come from giant sweat, so why not?
"What was that for?"
"I'll save you this time,"
OW. OW OW OW. And yet, in this version, I don't see Naoki being particularly upset over Futomimi having died and come back because he's young-acting enough in this that I think he'd be so OMG YAY YOU'RE ALIVE AGAIN that he'd lose sight a bit of the fact that, you know, alive again means he died earlier.
Naoki replied, lips barely inches from Futomimi's own so their breath mingled before he moved in for another kiss, sliding his tongue in this time and sighing quietly through his nose.
*pride at remembering sighing through the mouth while tongue-kissing is a bad idea*. I can't help thinking there's something oddly ironic that I've written less detailed kissing scenes since I had my first proper kiss of my own; although this does also lead to the panic that, oh god, if I ever get laid will I start sucking at writing smut? NOOOOOO!
Futomimi, meanwhile, was caught on that last expressed thought; remembering his death, how he'd known it would happen but had pleaded for Naoki's help regardless. On waking from his second death he knew everything - knew about his previous life, the crimes he had committed - and it had been strange viewing his lives from a new point of view. The first time he'd wanted love and attention but his visions prevented that from happening, made him a freak, and he'd rather have seen the ones who could have loved him dead than mocking him. Then the second life came where he was near worshipped by the manikins, loved for his leadership, but that wouldn't have come about without the visions either.
HOW WEIRD IS IT THAT I WROTE THAT WHOLE BIT BEFORE I PLAYED DIGITAL DEVIL SAGA? No, really. That's odd coincidence that I should go into so much detail about a previous life remembered from a new perspective and how it effects the most recent life when the NEXT ATLUS GAME I PLAYED went on about it forever.
Naoki was unique that way. Naoki knew of the visions, but didn't believe them to be freakish or divine. He just saw them as another ability - no more unusual than the demons with seductive or debilitating skills - and talked of Futomimi as an ally rather than 'the one with the foresight'.
Now there's a little bit of my global opinion on people in general. Not that, you know, I bump into many psychics in real life; just that it's incredibly easy for people (and in this world, demons and in-betweens) to categorise others by their abilities or backgrounds. But people aren't their abilities! People are people and they'd be fabulous and unique without their skills.
There was another moment when Naoki pulled back for the second time that Futomimi was reminded of his master's age; not in anything he said, but in his actions - embarrassment at arousal despite the two of them being alone and the fact Futomimi had not turned down him once so far. Knowing all too well that actions drew more attention than words, Futomimi slid a hand down Naoki's side to his hip, waiting for acceptance before he'd consider moving it any further.
HELLO THERE SEDUCTIVE FUTOMIMI. Boy, it would be nice if you turned up in more of my fics. Which you never do. And while I'm aware it could come across as a bit pervy that I'm mentioning Naoki being young in the same paragraph as WOO AROUSAL, I mean it in more of a general inexperience way here. Futomimi's got at least one spare life's memories to help him out. Also? Every time, ever, I've written smut where the characters don't talk during seduction makes me feel happy and accomplished. I used to suck at writing physical seduction so hard, but I think I've got a little more of a handle on things now.
Sweet god, did every phrase I use there come across as a terrible double entrendre?
AND WHY DID THAT LAST SENTENCE HAVE TO USE COME?
A shame he couldn't fully reciprocate given his own body hadn't been designed for procreation, but intimacy was something that could survive impotence and it was a delight in itself listening to the slight hitch in Naoki's breathing at the suggestion.
I'd like to thank Raziel from Soul Reaver and his lack of naughty bits for letting me practise this sort of idea. Also, tee-hee, I'm listening to Lean On Me while writing this part of the commentary. "You just call on me brother when you need a hand".
*is shot*
Naoki tended to quiet whenever actions were involved, as if speech and movement were mutually exclusive, and said nothing as he took Futomimi's hand from his waist and shifted it to the front of his shorts. Memories of fantasies in what seemed so distant a life now guided Futomimi's hand, squeezing and rubbing through material before pulling the shorts down enough to expose Naoki further, allowing direct contact. The first life would have wanted more, wanted pleas, professions of love first before granting any sort of satisfaction, but this seemed better somehow.
... Now, this bit? Is all kinds of messed up in an odd way. I just have a very intense image of Futomimi's previous life where he was a serial murderer who wanted desperately to be loved, and I have this idea that he never actually had sex with anyone back then because he wanted more than anything else for someone to say 'I love you' and mean it before he did. And life being what it is, I bet his previous self would have been sickened by the cattle market process of flirting in clubs and the like, and just... yeah. It's odd. There's such a schizophrenic view of humanity in this fic; I think it's the overall idea that individuals are awesome but society and societal traits can be and often are so very messed up.
Woah. Deep.
Watching Naoki balancing himself carefully so as not to fall off the bike, arched so his markings stretched taut and beautiful, breath uneven, all of it seemed more natural knowing he hadn't been forced to ask for it. The display wasn't for Futomimi's viewing pleasure alone, and that made it all the more delicious.
UM HI. I... yeah. That visual. It kills me every time. Naoki's markings pwn my tattoo fetish so very, very hard, and better than that they're so *specific* to my weakness which is thick black lines and either tendrils or symmetry. It's like the makers dipped into my mind and said "Ooh, hey, lets take every fetish except for wings - we can stick them on some other character or whatever - and MAKE A PERSON WITH IT. Oh, and make them a little bit young because then we can mock her discomfort". That's what they said. Honest truth. *insert disclaimer here*
Youth did mean stamina but it didn't demand endurance, and Naoki's stifled cry as he came over Futomimi's hand and his own chest helped to prevent their attracting any attention from a Principality that passed by. Probably a good thing on more than one level; the Divine set originated from a culture less tolerant of homosexuality than Naoki's, and it would have been unfortunate to cause any worsening of their already aggressive nature.
And allow me to do the "Embers disses religion despite being religious" dance here. *dances*. Honestly, I'm happy to be a Christian. I love God. I love Jesus. I love people. And that is why I suck at following any particular branch of religion (that I've come across to date), because I like doing that loving bit. I don't like the whole "Love thy neighbour UNLESS *insert reason here*" spiel that comes with being loyal to a church. It's a soapbox I frequent with depressing regularity and it's why I have so much fun attacking the hatred aspects of religion in fanfiction. Feel free to take offence but it's not like we'll be proven right until we die or there's a second coming!
That, and Futomimi would have taken an inordinate amount of pleasure in killing it and any allies it summoned to its side, all things considered what they had done to his people.
YES YES YES. Erm, am I the only person who deliberately took Futomimi into the ex-Mantra headquarters to level up for a bit just so that he could kick evil angel ass?
"We should get to a fountain," Naoki said at last, after a moment's rest to recover his strength. "I should."
I have NO IDEA what that correction comes from - Futomimi needs to clean up too if he's getting at what's on his chest. Sometimes characters say or do odd little things and I'm clueless as to why; and I suppose I should be bothered by the slightly schizo aspects of that but... I'm not. I like that I don't understand everything they do because it makes them feel more real to me. It's something I love about people; no matter how well you know someone they can still surprise you. *hearts*
A cough, and he pulled his shorts back up before turning around again, reacquainting himself with the bike's handles and pedals and completely failing to hide a small smile when Futomimi's hands closed over his. As the manikin's leader alone Futomimi would never have dreamt of behaving with such a lack of decorum, but the human memories did bring the reminder that sometimes manners were outright unimportant.
... *sniffles*. Honestly, I love smut. I have fun with it. But it's the little intimate details like the hands here which make writing worth it for me - I mean, there's a Lupa and Gale fic I've written recently and my favourite bit in the whole thing is way before the sex scene and it's just a note about Lupa loving to be close enough to Gale that he can smell him, and I think that bit is just so much sexier and more intimate than the sex scene.
It was strange that they'd ended up like this; both finding something they wanted - Naoki an answer, Futomimi a friend - given how it had happened. Futomimi had died twice to get there, and Naoki had watched the second death happen.
Yes, it was morbid. But finally getting what was wanted all along wouldn't have been half as satisfying if it had been easy.
And I finally get a reference to the prompt in XD. Oh, for shame, leaving it like that. But I'm pleased with how I worked it in; it's kind of hard to beat dying twice for struggling to get what you want! Unless, you're like, Captain Jack Harkness or something.
And that, my darling(s) is:
The End
