bakerstreet | Quiet your demons

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! contrast issues

Quiet your demons

The Calm You Down Smut Meme

You're about to go off the rails. No, no "about," actually. You've left that train track fair behind, and you're crazy. Rage fills every inch of you, and there's no doubt you're about to do something dangerous, stupid, or reckless. Or all three. There's only one person who can calm you down: your lover. They have tried everything they know to get those thoughts from your heard. Everything except for this...

Now, they're using physical intimacy to remind you what really matters, which is the two of you. Surely, this will bring you back, letting the anger ebb out and you'll be able to think straight again, even if your lover was the actual cause of all this mess.

Won't it? Surely you won't direct your wrath towards them, no matter what.

Comment with your character, your canon, your preferences, and which side you'd like to play (the calming one or the one who needs calming).
Reply to others.
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[The calming influence guy - er, angel.]

[Sorry about the previous thread. I thought it could work then I felt that I wrote myself in a corner and couldn't figure out what direction to take it in. :( If you're willing to give me another chance I'll tag you here, with everyone alive and at a earlier canon spot it could be much easier to write something. I'm so rusty. :(]

[ooc: Yeah, no problem! I was also rusty, but then I reread the Polish release AS manga volumes on my shelf and I'm back now.

You know? Maybe it's because I'm not Englush native, but it's only in my mother tongue that I'm even more seriously charmed by Rosiel's and Katan's language. Comparing it with Setsuna's, it's like Setsuna is a peasant. XD

Anyway, let's do something in early canon, ok! :D /ooc]

[That's a good idea. I went and picked up my AS set to read a bit before I write my starter. I'm not a native English speaker either and I feel the same about Rosiel and Katan in my native language. Unfortunately, it's not Polish or we could have switched languages. :(]

[- just say, and I will.]

[OOC: I set this in Heaven, after Katan becomes whole again but before the plot moves forward. Since clothes are going to be important, hes's wearing this particular uniform.]

Sevotharte had looked at him, obsequious, his voice like honey, like honey steeped in poison, but his tone... oh his tone made it clear that he enjoyed every minute of this. Raphael was unable to come to this meeting. He had other more pressing affairs... Oh, Rosiel knew what those affairs were! Affairs of the flesh, not affairs of state, more likely than not. His hands curled into fists so tight he could feel his nails digging into his palms through the leather of his gloves.

Raphael was ignoring his summons in order to partake in sin, in a vile disgraceful sin that should have caused him to fall a hundred times over. But Heaven had changed since Rosiel had been sealed on Earth. It was dirty now, hedonistic, ripe with pride and lust for power and betrayal, it was nothing like it had been under his rule.

But he had returned and he was their Lord and they would heel...

Except Michael was not coming either. They spurned him, the higher ranked angels, refusing their supports in the most humiliating, public way of all. If he could see behind the veil hiding Sevotharte's face, Rosiel was sure that he was licking his chops like a satisfied cat. A fat cat full of the table scraps of his betters, sunning himself in the light of a God who was too good for him. A light that should be his, all his and no one else's.

For he was the brightest, most beautiful angel in Heaven. For he was the one they all needed to obey, to worship. Instead, they had betrayed him, developed a weapon to rot his flesh, they had tried to assassinate him...

Him! God's favorite child! Rosiel gritted his teeth. They rebelled, but they would all bow to him in the end. Of that he was sure.

Zaphkiel has been detained... And Sevotharte was bowing at him, just enough to follow protocol, just enough to be insulting. My Lord, perhaps we should adjourn this meeting, it seems that no one came but I...

Rosiel suddenly rose from his throne, a snarl distorting his pretty face into something feral, ugly. He slams his hands flat on the table, leaning forward, golden eyes narrowed under the brim of his peaked cap. "This is insubordination! They will come or..."

or I will have their wings. He sucked in a deep breath, biting the words back. With a growl he spins on his heels and turns his back to Sevotharte, to the other angels seated around the large conference table... and strides out of the room, grabbing fistfull of his long uniform coat in order to walk faster.

"We're leaving", he threw over his shoulder, without even looking back. He knew Katan would follow. He always did, in the end.

Edited (broken tag) 2018-10-28 15:35 (UTC)

[They should never have come back here. It was not doing Lord Rosiel any good now, no-- he was deterioriating. Lord Rosiel was. And nobody could see it, even when they looked.

Despite all His beauty, people never saw the fragile glass around it when they looked, sharp edges hiding the inner Light. And often they'd cut themselves on the glass, unseeing.

Katan didn't mind the invisible metaphorical glass, if that was his Lord's protection, but still, he wished-]

Yes, Lord Rosiel.

Edited (name. i write rosiel, rociel, never know which XD) 2018-10-29 03:44 (UTC)

[Don't worry about matching the amount of text I write, I just happen to be extremely long-winded. I was thinking we should probably move off BS, as our pairing might be disturbing to people scrolling through this post, so I made a thread, viewable only to you: https://tellmeimbeautiful.dreamwidth.org/2366.html]

[Could be either role. He's talented in, well, roles.]

[Needs some calming, but he'd sooner die than say that, to most people.]

[Most likely the one who needs calming, but can also be the calming influence]

[ The calming presence. ]

[The calming presence.]

[a little mid IW panic? Let me know if I should change anything]

Wanda had been gone for three days, off on another "secret" trip to see Vision, the ones Pietro assumed everyone just said they didn't know about because it was easier to pretend the lines between the split times were cleaner and neater than they actually were. Of course, three days without Wanda meant three days of Pietro worrying about her, of Pietro having nightmares and no one around who he trusted to curl up with at night. Three days of fearing that the government would again come to lock his sister up while he could do nothing.
And then she was attacked.
Pietro was aware that the others were making plans in the command centre, reunitting the teams now that there was a bigger threat, but all he could feel was the pent up rage that Wanda had once more been in danger, and he had been unable to help her. Without even being sure of where his feet carry him, he finds himself in the facility's gym, and racing around the track, moving in ever faster circles, until there's the faint smell of burning rubber coming from his shoes.
Pietro doesn't even think to take notice when the door to the gym opens, and someone else enters.

Stephanie Rogers needed a break, between the distrust that still hung between Stark and herself and the impending destruction of the world and possibly the entire galaxy, she had to step away from the command centre to refocus before something was said or done that couldn't be taken back.

Which was why her feet had also brought her to the gym, the place where she can unleash her pent up energy and anger safely as well as think through everything that was going on, but Stephanie hadn't been expecting to smell burnt rubber upon entering the room.

The source of the smell became very clear in the form of a speeding blur racing around the indoor track, as it seemed like Pietro probably had had the same idea as her but for a more personal reason.

"We really need to get JARVIS to measure your top speed one of these days, kid." The female hero commented to make herself known. "I bet it's impressive."

It had felt safe, in the gym, safe enough that he didn't have to worrying about knocking anyone down, about being a disappointment, about being good enough. Wanda was with the others, more clearly able to protect her than he was, and Pietro could let loose and run. Before the falling out, before everything that had split the team, Pietro had been training to up his top speed here, and returning to that training, returning to the laps run until he was out of breath, seemed the only thing to do.
And if he lost count of the number of times he circled the track, if he stopped caring about the pain in his body, then it was just to be expected.
The voice startles him, and he's already so much on edge, that it's enough to send him triping to the ground, tumbling and skidding until he crashes to a stop against the wall. He did not think anyone would come looking for him, much less would have anything to say to him. And so, Pietro looks across the room at Stephanie from his new position, and can only think that she really, really, should be somewhere else.
It seems the entire effect is to knock him rather silly.
"Not impressive enough." He tells him, making a deliberate effort to climb back to his feet. "Not fast enough at all."