brave_kreyu (
brave_kreyu) wrote2024-03-19 08:36 pm
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OOM: All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness?
(OOC: Warning for explicit adult content, mention of noncon/rape, slavery)
Is it a dream? A glimpse of a universe that might have been? A story untold?
Something called Skellig out here, to a road scratched in the earth between the desert and the land irrigated by the river. The sun overhead is like a hammer, the heat murderous. His coat...he can't remember WHAT happened to his coat. In this heat the coat would be as strange as his wings to human eyes in any case.
There are two small mud-brick houses up ahead, then more road, and a mud-brick wall encircling a small village of mud-brick houses.
He needs a drink, desperately.
He hears footsteps coming toward him, the heat haze breaks to reveal a woman. (Except she can't be a woman, no one human has that much Light inside them, that much power.)
"Even one touched by the gods should not be walking about this time of day," her voice is all concern, all worry. She's wearing a white linen kilt around her waist, and nothing at all above it except a necklace of blue clay beads. She's lovely. (And she feels familiar? Why?)
She offers a hand to him, seemingly not concerned in the slightest about his wings.
Is it a dream? A glimpse of a universe that might have been? A story untold?
Something called Skellig out here, to a road scratched in the earth between the desert and the land irrigated by the river. The sun overhead is like a hammer, the heat murderous. His coat...he can't remember WHAT happened to his coat. In this heat the coat would be as strange as his wings to human eyes in any case.
There are two small mud-brick houses up ahead, then more road, and a mud-brick wall encircling a small village of mud-brick houses.
He needs a drink, desperately.
He hears footsteps coming toward him, the heat haze breaks to reveal a woman. (Except she can't be a woman, no one human has that much Light inside them, that much power.)
"Even one touched by the gods should not be walking about this time of day," her voice is all concern, all worry. She's wearing a white linen kilt around her waist, and nothing at all above it except a necklace of blue clay beads. She's lovely. (And she feels familiar? Why?)
She offers a hand to him, seemingly not concerned in the slightest about his wings.
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"But we were doing very well right here on the ground."
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Working his throat again to clear the image from his mind that she has planted there, he refocuses on her body beneath him. "Quite well, yes."
He then works his lips back along the inside of her thigh, his hand rubbing along the outside of her leg, coaxing her to pull closer to him, so that he can resume where they 'left off' a moment prior.
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"Remember to breathe," she suggests, cheekily.
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The pace he sets this time, however, is slower. Less frantic and driving than before. More particular, searching for what causes her to squirm the hardest, moan the loudest under his lips and tongue.
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She comes with a cry of pleasure that is nearly a scream, bucking hard against his mouth. There's no way the village doesn't know there's sex going on right now, unless they think the noises are from evil spirits or demons or something.
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Skellig pushes her through her release, coaxing every last ounce of pleasure from her body until she collapses beneath him, and then he remembers to breathe. Her taste, her scent, everything is overwhelming to his senses and it takes him a moment to move from between her legs, to crawl his way up her body and wrap himself haphazardly around her, mindful of her wings.
Burying his face into her shoulder, he feels suddenly drunk, the room spinning a bit as endorphins run through his veins, bringing a wing up to cover her form - and steady himself.
Breathing. Breathing is important.
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She's content to just drift with him for a while, at least until SKELLIG is ready to be devoured.
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Even if he has no true idea of where they actually 'are'.
After allowing himself to adjust and recalibrate his senses for a few minutes, he trails a hand up her ribcage. There is still a burning want and desire in his body - but the power and energy she is emitting, her touch sending ripples through his very essence, is tough to manage.
"S'gonna take me a minute to find my way," he murmurs softly against her skin.
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Over the years, Kreyu has? will? learn to dampen just how much power she floods her partners with, but she hasn't learned how to do that just yet.
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"I'd like to take less," he sighs, teasingly.
He would like to have her hands and mouth moving over him, her motions and touch pulling away the pieces of any control he might dare to hold onto. He would like to take her here, in this bed, and give all the villagers beyond the wall really something to talk about during their pre-dawn stroll to the fields. His mind is full of many things he would like to do to her, that he would like to have done to him.
But he needs another minute. "That just...you...that was intense, for me. And I wasn't even on the receiving end of it."
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"Intense in a good way or a bad way?" she asks as she strokes his hair. Just a little concern has crept into her voice.
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"Of all the partners I have laid with, none have carried as much Light in their energy as you...it is not anything I cannot handle, it is just...intense." He closes his eyes, inhaling the scent of her - of them - from her skin. "It is very...very pleasurable. Good way."
He is trying to be as reassuring as possible.
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"I don't know how many of my kind....desire, the way I do. Dragons do not mate, create offspring. We are made by the world itself, bodies shaped of the elements kindled by karma. Neither of my brothers have ever felt sexual desire before and they are far, far older than I am."
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He shrugs lightly.
"But my desires and needs most closely match those of humans. I require similar to what they do for survival." Food, water, shelter. "I desire the pleasures they seem to enjoy." Sex, liquor, drugs, entertainment. "It is just...who I am."
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"It will take a while for me to....come back, if I die. But...." She shrugs helplessly.
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"I am simply called to go where I am needed."
He sighs, and presses his lips again to her shoulder. It is obvious that he is lost in thoughts that are not related to their current...situation.
His voice lower: "I just cannot understand why you are so familiar, and yet, within my mind there is...nothing."
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"That is what it feels like, when we reincarnate. A call, in the soul, to find our Brood, our hoard. My soul, my karma is entangled with those of my broodmates. Perhaps, perhaps you are tangled up with me, like that?"
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"I...I do not have a hoard." At least he does not think he has a hoard. He isn't quite sure of that entirely.
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She sighs. "This might not be a frustration I can help you with."
She smiles slightly. "Might be able to help you with something else, though." He IS still hard, after all.
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"I have no doubt of that," he says, shifting his body slightly against hers to 'refocus' his attentions back to the present, back to her, the friction between their skin enough to brush away whatever lingering negativity remains.
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Nodding, he shifts his wing to uncover their bodies.
"You are a keen observer," he comments, as they negotiate their 'rearrangement' to allow him to settle back near the headboard, his wings flared slightly to either side, bodyweight resting on his back and elbows, a pillow tucked behind him. "And a quick study."
He was already hard, already wanting her to touch him, take control - but the sight of her positioned between his knees is enough to make his eyes darken with lust.
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Her knees brush against the inside of his thighs as she leans forward, the friction of skin against skin a slight tease.
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His eyes struggle to stay open as she leans in close, whispers those words in that manner into his ear. His heartrate quickens, and a wave of you've been caught washes over him - but there is no fear attached to it.
"I..." He exhales, breath catching. "You can...do as you please. I will...guide you if it is needed."
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She remembers that he liked her hands there, how about her mouth? Kissing, licking, scraping against them ever so slightly with her teeth? His eyes may be closed, but she tries to glance up at him anyway.
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