all's well that ends

// a reminder, ready when you find her, i repress the iridescence of a fire
won't you mind him, steady when you find him, i confess the incandescence of a dyin' light //

“The kind that plays all sides.” He says, watching as the circlet begins to shift and the horns grow upon Amun’s own head as well, a snort leaving him. Those that required external trinkets to do what he could do from within, certainly weren’t a threat to him. But he makes no comment on it, nothing but a glimpse of boredom that crosses his face.

He doesn’t want more than he has. He has everything he’s ever wanted.

Right?

Right.

He watches as Amun licks the blood from his hands, and for a moment he glances down to the hand that’s smeared the inky black blood along his skin, that soaks up in the tearing fabric of his shirt. His gaze narrows back on Amun, seeing it for what it is.

A sip turns into more, and more turns into having nothing left.

But he’s thirsty too, and his throat parches with the thought as accusations come spinning back at him. The scent of fluid sparks in the air, and Sunjata knows it. Knows it from somewhere, but where?

“I am nothing but honest.” He rumbles, taking a step toward Amun, blood still pricking and beginning to drip down from his chest. The hand with blood on it reaches up to grab Amun’s chin again, to tear him away from slicing up his lips. “Choose your words carefully.” Another quiet hum, a prompt.

Make it good, or miss out.

SUNJATA

my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,

for it is infinite.

Amun's lips stretched into a sickening smile. Or maybe just a sick one, considering how he felt. "Why am I not surprised that the devil is a player." He chuckled and licked his lips.

They came black with the strange oily taste and texture of fluid with just a hint of the coppery tang of blood. Not nearly enough. As the devil stepped closer the potter took in a deep breath through his mouth, his eyes followed a crimson droplet as it slid down the devil's chest. "A silver-tongued devil would lie with the truth." However, the Ascended's voice was a breathy whisper.

This time he turned his cheek into the claws as they cupped his jaw, uncaring if they sliced his skin further. Amun met the devil's eyes squarely for just a moment. "I've always been good with my mouth." The potter turned his head slightly to kiss the devil's palm.

Then the Ascended moved just a little further down to try and gently and slowly sink his fangs into the devil's wrist.

by being moved I exert my empire,

making the dreams of night real

AMUN

// a reminder, ready when you find her, i repress the iridescence of a fire
won't you mind him, steady when you find him, i confess the incandescence of a dyin' light //

Amun shouldn’t be surprised by that at all. And yet, Sunjata still nears, reaching up with claw tipped hands to grasp the potter’s face, claws pressing lightly against his cheeks. And he watches, as the potter tilts his head into his hand, watching and waiting, listening for the words that slip from the other man’s lips, waiting for something to make sense and yet not make sense.

Fluid drips onto his hand and he wonders if it’s liquid metal – that if he tore apart Amun all he would find would be a silvery sheen of warmth. But the man before him isn’t warm to the touch, something that greatly disappoints the Flood.

It’s almost like slow motion as Amun’s head drifts further, a kiss pressed to his palm, a bit closer to his wrist, veins hidden by black tattoos with stars within that shift with his heartbeat.

And then Amun bites.

And then he feels warmth and overwhelmed all the same.

A hiss slips from him, unsure if he tears his hand away from the Ascended or if the claws dig into the man's cheek more. All he feels is warmth and light, and if he closes his eyes he wonders if he can see the sun.

SUNJATA

my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,

for it is infinite.

The claws at the tips of Amun's fingers disappeared, leaving just his fingers. Fingers that he brought up to grasp the devil's wrist. Or at least the potter tried. Moaning, if he was able he'd deepen his bite, sliding his fangs further in. Regardless, the Ascended would drink deeply, as deeply as he could, trying desperately to slake his thirst.

The pleasure from the bite was almost secondary to the relief of finally getting to drink. Almost. Regardless, Amun was lost. Stepping forward, he pressed himself against the taller—the much taller—devil. Uncaring what the devil did with claws or hands or body, the Ascended just clung to Sunjata.

This was a deal he might gladly sell his soul for, he decided.

by being moved I exert my empire,

making the dreams of night real

AMUN

// a reminder, ready when you find her, i repress the iridescence of a fire
won't you mind him, steady when you find him, i confess the incandescence of a dyin' light //

He thinks he’s burning. He thinks he’s set on fire and this might be his end, that Amun might tear him open and he might erupt into vibrant streams of sunlight. Is that what he can taste on his tongue? The sun?

It’s beautiful and tantalizing, if not taunting as reality slowly sinks back in and Sunjata’s stumbling a small amount — hand sliding along Amun’s face, through liquid metal, until he reaches Amun’s hair. Claws twist and turn within it, grappling and gripping in the short hair he finds.

And suddenly, there’s a body there, pressed against him, and he growls low in his throat, his other hand lifting to wrap his arm (and wing) around the potter, pulling him in close, pulling him in tight against him and the warmth that sparks and pulls in his body. But the bite prolongs and Sunjata finally gives into the lightness of his bones, of the flame that erupts beneath his skin. A louder groan leaves him, and he lowers his horned head toward the potter, hips pressing in.

SUNJATA

my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,

for it is infinite.

The copper burned as it slid down his throat. It pooled in his stomach, spreading like fire through his cold limbs. And yet, even so, he needed more. Needed it all. Needed to drink the sea from the devil until there wasn't a drop left.

As Amun's mind slid further into pleasure and madness mixed in a fever dream his body reacted on instinct to Sunjata's movements. As the devil's hands gripped the potter's hair, he moaned. As the devil's arm wrapped around Amun he slipped closer, somehow managing to find every inch of open space between them and closing it.

And as the devil's hips pressed forward, the Ascended's hips ground against them, especially as the groan fell from the other man's lips. One hand dropped from the devil's wrist (though the other gripped all the tighter) to trace a line down Sunjata's side to his hip, before settling there and gripping tight.. Amun found his tongue sliding against the wounds he'd made in a sensual swirl.

And all the while he drank. And drank. And drank.

by being moved I exert my empire,

making the dreams of night real

AMUN

// a reminder, ready when you find her, i repress the iridescence of a fire
won't you mind him, steady when you find him, i confess the incandescence of a dyin' light //

He wonders if he’s glowing, if the tattoos on his arms swirl with an intensity that makes them look like they’re spinning until they’re blinking and winking out of existence. He wonders if he’s burning out, if the sudden taste of cinders on his tongue are true, that if it goes on too long he might be sputtering ash. He’s panting, sweat shimmering along his skin beneath leathery wings, beneath the heavy horned head that lowers toward Amun as the Ascended moans his own pleasure.

But then Sunjata feels as light as air, his mind freezing and fogging, a constant confusion that swirls within him. And when Amun closes every inch of space between them, Sunjata suddenly begins to feel smothered, unsure, uncertain, wavering on his feet. The line that the potter draws on his side to his hip burns and sends fire in its wake, and the grip the other man holds is one that Sunjata feels as if he might collapse upon.

Had Amun become the one to bring him to the stars? Is this what it feels like to collapse in on yourself? Is this how galaxies are formed?

He shudders, panting now, steel eyes blown with lust and wonder shutter closed like blinds, and he presses into Amun further. A few seconds later and a small amount of lucidity returns again, and Sunjata pulls back slightly – reaching up with the arm wrapped around the other man’s shoulders, reaching for his head to tear his fangs from his wrist.

“Enough.” He pants, he growls, he burns.

SUNJATA

my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,

for it is infinite.

The blood kept flowing, hot and fresh and delicious, and with it, the pleasure. And even that wasn't enough to satiate Amun. Maybe nothing would. As he'd said, no matter what someone had, they always wanted more.

So nothing was enough. Not his fangs, sunk deep into the devil's flesh. Not the way his hand slipped around and behind Sunjata's ass to cup it before moving on to caress his inner thigh. Not the way the Ascended writhed against the other man.

It was no surprise that he whined in protest when Sunjata pulled the potter away. Still, he was too disoriented and weak to fight against the Arbiter's superior strength. The Ascended's fangs didn't leave the Flood's skin easily, though, tearing skin away, skin that Amun swallowed down along with blood coating it.

He lifted his head and stared directly into Sunjata's eyes. Amun spoke, his voice rough with need. "You can do whatever you want to me. Things you've only dreamed about. Just...give me another sip." Licking his lips, he panted, placing one hand on the other man's bloody chest.

by being moved I exert my empire,

making the dreams of night real

AMUN

// a reminder, ready when you find her, i repress the iridescence of a fire
won't you mind him, steady when you find him, i confess the incandescence of a dyin' light //

He wants to give into the touch, the caress to his skin – but there’s something that nags at the back of his mind, that pulls him away from diving in too deep. He wavers, uncertain and dizzy in place as he somewhat comes to, feeling like light would erupt from his mouth when he opens it to tell Amun it’s enough. He tears the Ascended from his wrist, pulls him away and yet.

And yet, Sunjata clings to him still. Because he’s not sure he can quite stand on his own.

His head tilts back, trying to regain his breath as he suddenly feels so cold, so empty, so dark inside. Perhaps Amun was right – perhaps this was purifying. Perhaps this was his rebirth.

Perhaps this is his reckoning.

The weight of the horns feels heavy as his head tilts back down a bit toward Amun – steel eyes brimming in his dizziness and confusion, glazed with lust as he clings and listens to the desperation that settles within the shorter man’s voice. There’s a hand on his chest, mixing with the warm inky blood that drips from him, and Sunjata presses in against Amun though he isn’t sure why.

“You’ll take it all.” Comes the whine, the gravelly sound of his voice as it airs around them. “And I’ll have nothing left.”

SUNJATA

my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,

for it is infinite.

The hand Amun had rested on the devil's chest trailed downwards. Chasing the blood that still leaked from the claw marks from the potter's swipe. Pressing into the devil's hands where the grasped him, the Ascended added his other hand to the devil's chest.

They both traced downwards before Amun tantalizingly rested them on the waistband of the devil's pants. Both of the potter's palms and fingers were streaked with blood, and he left a smear down the devil's skin, which still shimmered that delicious looking red.

However, the Ascended looked up and met the devil's eyes squarely. And then Amun shook his head. "We can share it." He still spoke in that whisper. Fingers digging in to the devil's waist, the potter added, "Besides, you said you wanted a monster from the stars to play with. That's me." Grinning, he made sure to display his fangs once more.

by being moved I exert my empire,

making the dreams of night real

AMUN

// a reminder, ready when you find her, i repress the iridescence of a fire
won't you mind him, steady when you find him, i confess the incandescence of a dyin' light //

There are hands on him, he doesn’t know how many. But from what he can tell, it feels like a lot. They trail and make marks and patterns within his own blood, and Sunjata watches as he wavers on his feet, keeping close to Amun despite the way the potter looks as if he’s priming him up for a midnight snack. The hands trail down and leave fire in their wake, his body reacting accordingly, his eyes watching Amun as he meets his own.

They cannot share. He knows this. He knows this.

And yet.

And yet.

The hands that dig into his waist have a low hum slipping from his lips, one hand lifting to grasp Amun by the chin again, his thumb running across the cuts to the Ascended’s lips and pulling back with that shimmering, shining sheen. “I want light and dark and nothing and everything.” He whispers, tilting Amun’s head up again.

“And yet you say I am the devil when you stand here as a creature of the stars.” It’s a breathy purr, he doesn’t know how close his face is to Amun’s, but he swears he can feel the potters nose brush against his.

SUNJATA

my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,

for it is infinite.

Their noses did touch, their faces hovering right next to each other. As the devil's fingers brushed over Amun's lips and grasped his chin, he met those steel grey eyes squarely. Stared directly into them, the Ascended's gave unwavering. One hand lifted from the devil's hip to rest against Sunjata's lips, the man's blood darkly crimson in the night.

Amun spoke in a wavering and yearning voice. "Here. For you." Turning his head slightly, he sucked on one of the devil's fingers, teasing against the skin. Then the Ascended pulled his head back for a moment.

"You can have that. Because maybe we're both devils." He chuckled, resting his cheek on the devil's palm. "Both fallen and trying to get back to heaven whatever way we can."

by being moved I exert my empire,

making the dreams of night real

AMUN

// a reminder, ready when you find her, i repress the iridescence of a fire
won't you mind him, steady when you find him, i confess the incandescence of a dyin' light //

“Here. For you.” His lids shudder slightly as he watches Amun take his thumb into his mouth. It sparks and ignites the fire within him again, and it parts through the dizziness of the blood loss as he focuses on what comes next. The offering, an option to take, and though the illness racks through his body he doesn’t know whether or not to go through with it. But he wants to, hips pressing against Amun’s, a breathy whine of a sigh slipping past his lips against the potter’s own thumb.

A partially shifted forked tongue darts out as Sunjata pulls his head away, running along the iron to his lips as he considers it, his horned head tilting slightly as he tries to piece things together before simultaneously tearing them apart. A nagging sensation in the back of his mind reminds him of something important, of two people who might disapprove of this, but he can’t name them. He can’t remember.

“I don’t plan on going to heaven.” He says. He doesn’t know what it is, not really, but it seems like a place a person like him would be unwelcome — and he shies away from that particular thought as he runs his thumb along Amun’s cheek, smearing fluid and blood along his skin.

His own blood rushes and pumps through his body, trying to replenish what’s been taken, but before he can fully realize what’s happening, he’s dropping to a knee, arms as wings flaring slightly as he attempts to recover.

SUNJATA

my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,

for it is infinite.

As the devil's tongue flicked out Amun moaned. He watched as Sunjata licked the blood from his lips and from the potter's hand. As the other man did, the Ascended slipped his thumb deeper into the Arbiter's mouth.

As Amun did, he lifted his other hand and licked it, humming as the coppery taste (dull as it was) filled his mouth. He responded to the devil's body by pressing back; the Ascended fitted himself against the other man, slipping one leg between the other mans'.

"Where do you want to go?" As Sunjata's thumb slid across Amun's cheek he turned to capture it again with his mouth. Again he teased with teeth and tongue. This time, though, he would bite down just enough to pierce the digit with a single fang and sip a little more.

When the devil sank down into the sand, the potter remained standing for just a moment. "What do you want from the world?" The Ascended swayed on his feet.

Then he fell to his own knees. Staring at the devil with wide eyes, Amun raised his bloody hands to his lips again. He began licking his fingers, one by one, taking his time, savoring the drink. "Gods." Whispering it around his hands he closed his eyes as a shudder passed through his body.a

by being moved I exert my empire,

making the dreams of night real

AMUN