bakerstreet | mine.

[He offers a sly, charming smirk as he looks directly into your eyes.]

If you were mine, I would wait upon you, serve you, and savor you in every way, shape, and form.

I would give you everything you could ever wish to desire.

An interesting proposal for whomever you set your eyes on.

[His own eyes are rather hard to see behind the gemstone lenses.]

Whom I set my eyes on?

I dare say that's quite a peculiar way to word things.

[Considering the many things Sebastian had experienced all his time, something like a mysterious man in a mask is far from something strange to him. He seems to be approaching the conversation rather cordially.]

I would prefer it if people first set their eyes on me rather than vice versa. To be willingly wanted for all I'd give would be much more interesting than a single-sided yearning. Wouldn't you agree?

[It was done specifically as a sort of not-funny inside joke. His silver ears twitch a bit, and his fluffy, pristinely-tended wolf's tail also curls idly as it sways behind him. This stranger's wording is also peculiar, he thinks. He can't quite put his finger on why.]

Your phrasing almost seems to imply that while you enjoy being chased, it's still somewhat one-sided. All you'd "give" but not all that you "are"? Is service something you desire more than an equal partnership, or do I have it wrong?

[There's only idle curiosity in that question; it's not like he wouldn't settle for that when his usual benchmark is "prepare to die young and almost completely alone." His self is a nearly-melted candle, desperately trying to gather more wax onto itself, and lengthen its own wick.]

I do see you, though. Albeit through a blue filter. And I do admit, single-sided yearning isn't a particularly good feeling.

[His ears swivel to the sides with thought. For years, he's yearned for things he knows he cannot obtain. A normal life span. A partner to help him return to that expected longevity. Anyone to look at him and not see a creature of the dark.

[It's so funny that strangers never seem to react to the mask like his kinsmen. He may want to look the gift horse in the mouth, but he knows better not to. At least, for now.]

Well, now, I wouldn't say the yearning would be entirely one-sided.

[It would be a lie to say Sebastion wasn't slightly off-put by the sudden movements of Alivian's more interesting features. He was more than quickly able to compare such things to something of a more canine nature.

Eugh.

Dogs.]

Of course, I would expect that if I were to give someone everything they wanted, I would, in turn, receive all of them. It's no fun if the exchange weren't an equal one in some measure.

I only implied that I would not be interested in searching for anyone who wouldn't just as much wish for me.

[Alas, he's no cat, but a wolf. Albeit one that at least grooms himself like a cat. (He does, after all, have a lioness for a childhood caretaker. She taught him the best ways to tidy his appearance! He does probably have a bit of her scent on him, though.)]

I can understand that. A feeling of equality is more than a little important.

[He says, as if he wouldn't settle for scraps if push came to shove. A scrap of hope, a handful of rope to pull himself upright. That's all. His tail sways a little more slowly - more in line with a cat's than a dog's (but he is, unmistakably, a very, very well-groomed dog.)

[His ears fold slightly just as he starts to speak.]

Ah, but... my apologies. It seems my understanding of such concepts still needs some study.

[It's hard to get any of that outside of books...]

You do indeed deserve someone who wishes for all of you. I hope you find someone like that.

[He cracks a faint smile, ears slightly perking up again. Despite his smile, his tail remains relatively still, but for the faintest wiggling to and fro.]

[ Off to the side, Ciel decides to add: ]

You're not going to disclose the price beforehand?

Now, that would be rather rude, would it not, my lord? I think it best for a relationship to prove mutually beneficial before bringing up the semantics of a price placed on one another. Besides--

[Oh Sebastian is offering the most charming of smiles right now.]

You found the requirements for such care and devotion an equal enough trade, have you not? I shouldn't think you'd take me up on the offer otherwise.

It was the price of revenge, and I'll pay it every time.

[ But Ciel knows he's in a rare category, though he's also in a rare situation. ]

Gaining a demon as a servant was a bonus.

[ He really wasn't thinking of how amazing it would be to have someone who could literally cater to his every whim. ]

Or is the price for romance cheaper? Do you only nip at their soul?

Now, I would never dare be so crude! You know I'm much pickier than that with my meals.

[Sebastian's eyes flicker somewhat, obviously enjoying this all-too-upfront game they were suddenly playing.]

No, I will savor every last drop if I select something that interests me.

[After all, the mystery leading to the desire was what made everything so fascinating.]

That all sounds too good to be true. What about emotional intimacy? Bonds of love and acceptance?

Emotional intimacy? And acceptance?

[Placing his index finger to his chin, Sebastion looked up as if genuinely considering the question.]

If that is what those who need me wish, I shouldn't say it is impossible.

[A chore, though. But it's well worth the reward.]

If someone were mine, of course, I would naturally be accepting of them. And if it is intimacy someone so craves--

[Sebastian looks towards Dorothea, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.]

It would be rude not to oblige.

[ He's handsome, sure, but she seems... somewhat dubious. Rather unconvinced, one might say. She's trying to figure out his angle, and the way he's phrasing some of these things is throwing her off a bit. ]

I suppose what I mean to say is that I'm not looking for someone to serve those things to me. I want a partner to go through life with on equal terms.

[ Actually, she's sort of getting a Hubert vibe from him, now that she's thinking on it. ]

Does it make you happy? Do you enjoy it--that kind of relationship?

Oh? You're asking if I enjoy taking care of what's mine?

[Sebastian's teasingly amused expression seems to settle somewhat with that. His eyes settled rather intently, unwaveringly, upon Dorothea.]

I think the reward for such things makes the work well worth it.

[But with that question answered, Sebastian had his own. He tilted slightly and brought his hand up to his chin in thought.]

Wouldn't you think finding an equal partnership when claiming ownership over something is tricky?

... Ownership? Perhaps I've misunderstood. When you speak of someone being yours, you mean they're actually yours, as in, your property? But you serve them in order to earn some kind of reward. What kind of reward do you get for all of that?

[ This is some weird, kinky nonsense if she's ever heard it. ]

I would never claim ownership of a person. That rather precludes equality, as I understand it.

Oh, you sweet thing.

[An almost pitying look seems to befall Sebastian as he looks over Dorothea. His shoulders slumped, and head tilted as he kept his eyes so very intently upon her.]

You seem to have confused the individual parts of this contract between us.

[With that, his smile widened, offering a polite bow as he clarified the situation.]

Do you not remember the topic of this conversation, my dear? As I shower you with all you desire and help make all your deepest wishes grow true, you will, in turn, 'become mine.'

I can't say I've experienced anything like that before. You certainly are generous.

A true shame. Do you mean to say you have never been catered to? To never feel fulfilled?

Does it feel empty?

My purpose is to fight. It's all I've ever known. I suppose sometimes I wonder about if things had been different. I usually focus on my work but yes, that emptiness is always there.

If you were mine, you’d be warm and safe and have no reason to ever leave me again.

[After all, food can be delivered these days, and friends can come visit. Stay home…even if the house is a little haunted.]

I would dote on you, and though with care and mindfulness, grant you whatever material belongings you could desire. The basics of life are government-funded in Rowenan society, so you would only want for anything beyond that.

My home is large, and fit to hold many occupants. You could have parties, if you wished.

I would also keep you warm, if you wished, for much of the year, due to the cold weather year-round.

And if we were compatible, I would doubtless give you all of me.

My family is small, consisting only of myself and my nana, Liora.

In contrast, however, you may be burdened by those who show their open hatred of me. I am also on borrowed time....

If you were mine, you would have no need of any other. I'll make sure of that.

If you were mine, I would make a point of learning what sort of apology gifts you prefer, because doubtless I will need them in short order. I'm not easy to live with.

That said, I'd make sure all your material needs were met and exceeded. I'm not looking to be anyone's Sugar Daddy, but I suppose I have the resources for it.

I don't need a lot of things in life. I've managed to set myself up pretty comfortably, but as for gifts, I tend toward lingerie and fine wine.

If you were ever mine, I'd keep you warm in my bed and cozy in front of my fire. I'd warm you with my heart, and my hands. I'd stand beside you in battle, and your fights would be mine. I'd let you carve your mark across my body next to and along with my many scars.

That is if and only if I ever allowed you or anyone in so deep as to be completely mine. I would also expect to be fully yours in exchange. I don't share so easily when it comes down to something I've worked so hard not to let happen.

Lingerie isn't an apology gift, though. Wine could be, but lingerie is the gift you give after you're sure the apology is accepted.

...now you've got me picturing you in emerald-green silk and sheer lace. [How very distracting.]

Oh, darling. The last thing I want is to add to your scars. But if you mean to let me make my mark metaphorically, or at least temporarily, a little biting never hurt anyone.

[Uh...biting hurts by definition, technically, but he's talking about the sexy kind, so maybe his point still stands.]

What sort of wine do you favor?

The way I collect lingerie, it would be an apology if you were one I regularly let into my bed.

I do like the way you think. Now you have me wishing for the same piece. If you find it, I'd happily accept it. [Thinking of the two of them enjoying it, it's impressively distracting, especially with all the thoughts she's been having of him nude lately.]

You may not want to, but I don't mind a few more. I like marks, biting is wonderful and so is a little bit of slight marking with teeth and beyond that perhaps. Nothing beyond a note to say that I belong to you beyond a shadow of a doubt. It would be something akin to a marriage rite, I would think. I don't think of it as anything given on chance. We are talking in the metaphorical.

[Given her whole life has been about pain and pleasure, the mix of it all in the bedroom is something that she tends to enjoy with the right partners, whomever they may be. It's never been a prerequisite, but she's never turned anything away yet either.]

I imagine it depends upon the occasion. If I'm merely sitting alone in a bath or reading a book by the fire, I like a red mostly. When I have a tinge of a sweet tooth, I'll consider a fine blush. With meals, it's all about the pairings, of course.

[He can't help but spare a little smile at the thought of adding to her lingerie collection.] Well the Asgardian idea of lingerie is somewhat more ornate than what's sold on Midgard, but you'd make a gorgeous divine consort wearing my colors.

[He smoothes a hand over her hair fondly, nodding his understanding. It's something to think about, perhaps. What they have is new, but he's determined to keep chasing it.]

If you have me in your bed, you're going to have to get used to a little magic there, as well, you know. ['Have to' is a little strong. He's never yet forced his powers on a lover, but given how his own presence and body are bound up in seidr, it's not going away, either.] But I don't think you'll mind.

Hmm. Do you always sit alone in a bath with your wine? What if I join you?

I think I like the idea of being a divine consort in your colors.

[The thought of him in her bed is one she's had since that first kiss, and it's something she wants to chase as well. Whatever this is, is something that Natasha truly yearns for. The more they talk, the more she allows the waves to take her, easing her into whatever the tides have for her.

Licking over her lips, she moves from where she is and rather boldly climbs over Loki to straddle his lap so that she can face him properly. ]

I think I can handle some magic in my bed. It's been a while since I've allowed anything truly magical there, any feelings of any sort will be new and I'm looking forward to it... to you.

[There's no waiver at the language he uses, because she's already sure of this. Sure in the way they talk, the way her fingers reach out to brush through his hair, and then down along his shoulders to wrap around his neck.]

I am usually alone, but my tub is plenty big. I'd be happy to have you soak with me and enjoy some wine. We could talk more, learn more. I want this, Loki.

Do you, now? You know, the version of me that screamed at a crowd to kneel to him...that wasn't really me. I love drama and attention, obviously, but I don't have to have it by stepping on anyone's throat.

But... I'd be lying to myself if I pretended the idea of claiming you as my own has no appeal. Gently. Intimately. Indelibly.

[It would be a game, played for two, not a trap. Not cruelty. He's lost interest in cruelty, but playing at dominance with a willing lover is just a different sort of affection.

He laughs softly when she slips into his lap and put his hands on her hips.] Good. Tell me everything you want, in detail, and I'll see to it that you get it.

"I think that as we get to know one another, I'll find myself happily kneeling before you in a way that will bring you far more pleasure than that crowd ever did." She knows that he was being used and manipulated back then and has been through the same type of abuse, even if hers never took on that particular mantle. She was wicked through and through, and her soul was black as the widow they named her after. Deadly and dark, and while she wears the badge of honor for the skills she wields, having another soul that can meet hers and curl around it like this is worth it all.

"I'd be lying to say that your words don't thrill me and make me want it even more. You've done something to me that I don't even understand yet, but I'm more than willing to take the chance."

Leaning forward, she covers his mouth with her own, opening up her heart and beyond for him to taste on her tongue as it curls against his, dragging him into her mouth and then back into his. Her body rocks forward against his, gaining height to increase the demand in the kiss, develop the passion until she's left them both gasping for air.

"I want you. I think that's the first thing I want. I want to be with you, first and foremost. Let's go somewhere we can be completely alone."

Oh my. Now, there's a mental image that conjures up a few ideas. It surprises him a little, that she's so willing to play this game. After the hell she's been through, part of him feels as though she deserves to be protected, doted on and coddled, rather than dominated and claimed.

But maybe that's the point. Like him, she has trouble accepting tenderness without a harsher veneer over it. To say you are mine can be, from the right lips, just another way of saying you are worthy of me, my time, my care, my affection.

And what a kiss she gives him! It's easy to see where she got her moniker. She bites, she devours, and if he were susceptible to venom, he has no doubt she could sting him terribly. He's not, though. Jotnar can withstand most poisons; a spider's neurotoxin slows to a halt in icy veins.

So why is he breathless and lightheaded when they pause?

"I want to see you happy," he says quietly, then spins that sentiment into something less sweetly fraught: "I want to see what you're like all relaxed and glowing after I'm done with you, after I've made you come as many times as your body can take."

"So the question remains: where shall we go?"

The last thing that Natasha would ever want to be is coddled. She might eventually take protection and maybe even being doted on from the right person. After all, she did allow a little bit of each from Clint in the right moments. They both had their own issues with being worthy of any attention, both understanding that they were nothing more than killers in the best of light. That's why they'd become such fast best friends. Not only had he saved her life and brought her to her first family, but he understood her.

Here was someone else, who took it a step further. It was like that. In saying that she was his-- it meant that she was not only her own person. Someone else cared enough to want her for everything that she was, the good, and bad. He would accept every side of her no matter what. He would claim her body, mind, and heart. She would happily return the sentiment in time. It felt like years had passed between them when it had only been a turn of weeks.

"I think I can show you happiness, and I will enjoy showing you what I am like after all that attention. Only if you show me the same. I want to pleasure you with my mouth and my body. My apartment isn't too far, or we can use a hotel that's closer if you wish. I merely want to be with you, to be naked and up against your body." Her hands ran over his pale skin, and up along the inside of his shirt, unafraid to claim the muscles that stood out over his stomach. "I want this, and all that's around it."

I guess it's a good thing I'm not looking for a Sugar Daddy. Friends with benefits works for me.

There is a sugar cube joke in there, but I'll spare you.

Friends is always the part where I stumble, not so much the benefits. But I'll do my best.

Thanos’ head, would be a good start.

I am also not easy to live with as you know. I can be harsh and unsympathetic.

You're gorgeous when you're vengeful, but no, I'm afraid if I gave you his head you'd be angry with me for not letting you chop it off, yourself.

[Setting aside the fact that he's pretty sure he's not up to the task of killing Thanos to begin with.]

Now, suitable weaponry ought to be something I could get for you.

Fair enough.

I won’t turn down some decent weaponry.

Hmm. Ranged weapons, or do you prefer something more intimate, like a dagger?

[Is...is that an almost fond look in his eyes?]

[ Nebula attempts to ignore that look, not knowing what to do in a situation like this. She’s not used to anyone looking at her fondly. So instead, she’s going to focus on weapons. Ah yes, shiny dangerous weapons. ]

Daggers are nice… I like to be up close and personal to see the fear in their eyes as desperation sets in.

mine.

Sebastian Michaelis | Kuroshitsuji | OTA

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Welcome back! :D

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

/comes back months later after digging through tag depths

no subject

no subject

no subject

The House on Hilltop Road | OC | OTA

Alivian | Kocchi Muite Glare (dom-sub verse) | OTA

Theseus | Hades

Loki / MCU / OTA

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject