ardent

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03-21-2017, 06:26 PM
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She feel as if her insides are splitting apart. It’s uncomfortable. She’s been uncomfortable for months now. Delya dislikes this feeling, and she doubts it’s a thing she’ll do again. A think she’ll do ever again. Hates herself. Hates herself right now. The way this makes her feel-- bloated, uncomfortable, slow. The slowness is the worst. The slowness is the very worst part, and she detests it in its purest form. Delya is upset about it. The Russian dancer cannot dance when she is this way. It is for that simple reason, among many others, that she decides she’s never going through this again. It’s frustrating. She doesn’t like being frustrated.

That’s a decision she makes before the pain hits. In her den with Dimitri in the valley, she’s certain she’s going to die. Her brother keeps careful watch, making sure nothing is going to come in and try to kill her, try to finish her off once and for all. She’s a stranger to pain like this. It’s not her. None of this is something she’s used to. It takes a while, especially with the second son, but she makes it. She makes it, and then she feels the need to sleep.

Dimitri names them as they nurse quietly-- Puck and Oberon. Robin goodfellow and the fairy king. The siblings will raise them together, and all will be okay in the end. Things always worked out in the end.

For now, Delya is very, very tired.
female – 40in – 105lbs – seven – jake



The madness isn’t shining through right now. Right now things are quiet. Things are still. She’s in one of those calm before the storm moods, but she doesn’t mind that so much. Delya never minds so much, but that’s the way she’s always been. There’s something funny. There’s always something funny, but she won’t tell you about it. She’s not what you’d expect for a madman, but she’s… well… she’s different. Brilliant and brash and bright, what could you expect? What else would you expect from someone that came from a place like she did. Raised among the gypsies, raised in the hands of those that knew there was something beautiful and bright to be discovered… born of a couple of young bastards that could have taken over the world.

And Dimitri wasn’t much different. They shared what they needed to. They had the very stuff to bring the world to its knees. They could do it, if they had the time and the energy to do it all. She loves it. She loves it a lot. Dimitri and Delta are a very strange pair, and the adore it.

Delya’s tail wags. Dimitri watches, an ever quiet guardian. He’s not here for trouble, as that would require effort. Today was one of those days he didn’t want effort behind. This was the dancer’s show, and she would run it.

Easily, she leapt back into the water with a splash. “You can come in, if you want. It’s not moving too bad today.” The words roll off her tongue, and they are easy. They are… okay. Today is okay after all.












delya & dimitri
the russian dancer & the illusionist
all we've got is this family unbroke
by jake help from russ


HiDE FROM YOUR FAMiLY
Stunning. He’s always been absolutely stunning, especially in the way that he’s tall and light and fast. There’s no arguing that. Dimitri is what some would consider horrifyingly gaunt, especially under all that fur. Yes, he’s thankful for the coat that keeps him warm. The coat that keeps anyone from looking too closely. Only Delya, who’s plagued by the same build, ever gets close enough to touch him in the way she does. They lay together at night to keep warm, each a strangely shaped bag of bones. Cocaine chic. Models. Tall. Beautiful. Thin. So, so thin. That’s why he’s so fast. That’s how he’s built to thrill. Such is the way Dimitri has always been.

Technicolor and bright, the creature looks back to the stranger and tries to reach right through to his soul. That’s the funny thing about having eyes that burn bright, rainbow, glittering-- the illusionist knows. He knows just how he looks at some men, just like he’s trying to do to this one. He’d eat them alive, and that was in the best way possible. The way that would… um… nevermind. He’d have those thoughts later, when he was alone, where no one could judge him for what he was thinking. Where no one could hear him. Sometimes, around handsome boys, he got a little out of hand.
DiMiTRi
they won't know you now
by hound help from russ