brave_kreyu | OOM: All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness? -Part Two

OOM: All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness? -Part Two

Kreyu intended to dance in the sky with Skellig the very next day, but events have conspired to prevent that from occurring. A raid on the village by former soldiers meant many wounded to heal and much damage to fix. Akatan's sister, Neferet, has a definite crush, an infatuation, with Skellig. She hasn't done anything but look and exchange some friendly words, but it still makes her brother FURIOUS.

For all that Euripedes was from a different time and place, a line he had Medea speak in the play of the same name still rings true: "I would rather stand three times in the line of battle than once bear a child." Even with Kreyu's magic, with Taweret's skill, childbirth is incredibly dangerous. There are reasons why Taweret's goddess image of She Who Is Great has elements of the hippo, the lion, and the crocodile, a fearsome appearance to drive off the many threats facing a woman giving birth. The second birth in a week began this morning and was still going on when the sun began to set. Not a good sign.

Skellig, trying to burn off nervous energy while Kreyu was working, happened across a few of the village men drinking. They said things about Kreyu they should not have said. That he was FEEDING on Kreyu, drinking her blood. There...may have been a fight. At least they don't think he's a demon anymore, you can't give a demon a black eye in a brawl with your fists!

It is truly night now, and Skellig can hear Kreyu's tired footsteps on the road...

(OOC: Warning for explicit adult content starting around tag 194.)

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The kiss is a welcome 'reward' for the gift, though truly none is needed to be given. But he returns it, happily.

"What else do you think we could find along the shoreline," he asks, once they break and resume walking. "That could be of use?"

"I don't think the tide's in the right position for us to find many shellfish."

The sun is getting lower in the sky. "We might want to head back with what we have and start working on dinner."

Kreyu is already idly turning over meal prep in her mind, washing the produce they've gathered, cooking methods.

"I am not fond of shellfish," he admits. "But it would not bother me if you ate them."

Walking back towards their 'camp', he stops to gather more driftwood along the way when he finds particularly good pieces that are dry and will burn well. There is also a feather, from a random shorebird, which he tucks behind one of his ears to keep it safe as they walk.

And a few more shells.

"What would you have me do?" He asks, as they return - acting nonchalant and innocent about the flowers which he has gathered, and are laid upon the flat rock he had been using as a 'table' for himself. She will notice them.

"Anything you think would help. The fire will probably need fuel, things will need to be washed, meat cooked."

She notices the flowers. "I, were those there before?"

Slightly sheepish, he shrugs his shoulders.

"I gathered them on our way back from fetching things from the forest." The wood he's collected is left in the pile he started a few days ago, and the new shells are added to the ones he's got saved aside on another rock. "They remind me of the sunset. And of the way your skin glows, when the sunlight moves across it."

Edited 2024-04-08 04:29 (UTC)

She flushes in pleasure. "Thank you. You'll spoil me, bringing me all these gifts." She touches them so very gently.

"Do you want to tend the fire while I wash what we've collected?"

Moving to tend to the fire, he grabs a longer stick to stir at the coals, breaking down the bed in preparation for adding fresh fuel.

"You are welcome," he says, also slightly flushed - though it is more from a nervous sort of energy, a mix of emotions that are a bit unfamiliar warring with each other in his mind and in his heart. "It...spoiling you is not a bad thing." (And he doesn't think that she feels that way, he just struggles with his words for a moment.) "You...you are my mate, it is just...right."

That is a very, very basic and broken down way of saying I love you and I want to spoil the hell out of you so get used to it but it is what he can manage for the moment.

It might be basic and broken down, but she understands it. She smiles brightly. "Then we'll spoil each other, when we can."

Once the greens are washed, they'll wind up getting wrapped, uncooked, around thin slices of whale tenderloin seared on hot rocks by the fire. The berries are fine just as they are, and she takes a certain pleasure in feeding them to him directly.

She's leaning against him as the stars start to come out, plotting exactly how she plans to drive him to ecstasy.

He is completely and utterly relaxed in this moment, her body leaning against his as they sit together by the fire. And while the majority of his mind believes that this is real, this place he has found himself called to...a small portion is still unsure, and thinks that perhaps he has died.

He is not religious. Does not believe in any one god or pantheon.
But if this is heaven, if this is the afterlife, or wherever 'good' souls end up going...

He is grateful he ended up here.

Tracing delicate patterns on her skin with his fingertips, he is watching the stars pop out as the light fades, looking for ones she spoke to him about the night before. He knows she has 'plans' for him in her mind, but those are not his focus right now.

A real place, an afterlife, or could it be a dream? A long, STRANGE, dream, but one so sweet he would never want to wake from it? Who knows.

She hums as he traces patterns on her skin, enjoys the quiet with him. When the last of the daylight has faded, he can see some of the stars she spoke about the night before.

She kisses his neck, soft. "I would give you pleasure," she whispers in his ear. "Shall I slip behind you right here, coax your wings open, then find every sensitive spot I couldn't reach last time? Or would you prefer to lay on your belly in our bed, let me pleasure you there?"

"I would sit here," he says after a moment of consideration. He adjusts his positioning slightly, moving to settle on the blanket in front of her, his knees drawn up to his chest.

Carefully, he stretches his wings out - fully - allowing the muscles and tendons to flex, working any lingering soreness away. There are only a few patches on the wing where he tore the feathers out to cover her wounds, new pin feathers already growing in.

"So lovely," she whispers in his ear as she slips behind him.

She runs her hands over the leading edges of his wings, so careful, especially where the pin feathers are growing in. Then she works from the leading edges in, teasing fingers carefully under his feathers to find sensitive spots beneath.

The spell carries words to his ears still, regardless of where she happens to be working on him, so she keeps whispering. "So soft, quiet feathers, for a silent hunter." She's meticulous, thorough, as if she wants to find EVERY spot that gives him pleasure.

Whispered words of praise, for his soul, his heart, his mind, his body, arrive at his ears as she explores every bit of the 'back' of his right wing, strokes, teases, rubs, to build his desire higher.

There is a healing power in her touch, which when combined with the words she whispers as she touches him, works her fingers through his feathers, across the thin layer of skin that covers the bone and muscle beneath - works to not only heal him physically and to bring him pleasure, but also to soothe his soul and mind.

(It has been a very long few days, and there are still cracks beneath the surface.)

A particular spot near a joint causes his breath to catch when she strokes over it - a positive sound, a bit of surprise.

"You are so good to me," he murmurs, folding his arms across his knees and bowing his head to rest his chin, exposing more of his back to her.

She teases that spot near a joint again, looks for its kindred elsewhere on the wing. "Want to be good to you," she whispers.

"Good to you in every way." She brushes her lips across the back of his neck where his head is bowed. Her left hand wanders across the part of his back that's newly exposed to her. She doesn't touch THOSE places on his shoulder blades that send a jolt directly to his cock. Those, those she's saving for....later.

He arches his back towards her touch, groaning softly when she rubs her hands over the muscles along the side of his spine - she isn't actively giving him a massage, so the pressure isn't as firm as it could be, which actually works better in this situation.

"Part of me still doesn't know how to react to being touched in ways like this," he says, sighing contentedly. "Not saying everyone has tried to hurt me, but...it's been a long time since I've felt this good being touched."

Shuddering when she hits a particularly sensitive spot with her lips on the back of his neck, his words break off, heat growing in his belly and a flush rising to his skin, which she will be able to feel under her hands. "...that's a good spot there on my neck."

Part of her grieves when he says 'Not saying everyone has tried to hurt me..', puts an emphasis on the word EVERYONE that isn't there in the way he spoke the words. But most of her is glad that NOW is better, for him. "I'm glad it feels good, now," she whispers.

She switches hands, putting her right hand on his back and exploring his left wing. "This spot?" she asks, breathing against his skin. Then, she licks that spot, light, quick, to see what happens.

Her right hand keeps working on the muscles along his spine, the left seeks out that 'good' spot she found near a joint on the right wing.

"Yes." Another hard, pleased shudder runs down his spine as her tongue runs over his skin, goosebumps breaking out over his neck and shoulders as she sets off all the right triggers in his senses. "That spot."

He's both melting under her touch and getting more aroused by the moment, doing his best to keep from squirming under her fingers - but it's obvious that he's losing the battle overall. His right wing flares slightly when she hits the spot near his joint, a pleasured groan escaping his lips.

"Wasn't sure you'd be able to drive me crazy with just my wings," he admits, though he's teasing a bit. "Clearly I was very wrong."

She laughs, low and soft. "Do you like me driving you crazy like this? Shall we see just how wild I can drive you?"

She licks that spot again, slow, lingering, as if she's savoring the taste.

Her hands keep working, keep finding spots that make his breath hitch, that make him melt, that make him more aroused.

She is mapping his wings like a sailor might map the stars in the night sky, using familiar specks of light to guide their way through the darkness, as she is seeking out those places that give him the most pleasure.

"I do like it," he replies quickly, breath already climbing closer to a soft pant. "And I know you could drive me over the edge with just your hands on my back and your fingers in my wings. I like the way it makes me crazy...slipping towards wild..."

Working his throat, he swallows hard.

"But I also love to see the light in your eyes when you look at me," he continues. "The way your hair falls across your face, the way your smile crosses your lips just so...the way your hands run over my chest..."

He's rambling and he knows it, but he can't help it because everything she does makes him feel that damn good.

Edited 2024-04-08 23:30 (UTC)

"I can give you both, I think," she whispers. She walks around from behind him, to see him face to face.

She smiles. "May I borrow your hands?" She presses his hands to the preening glands of her wings, gives him a substantial amount of preening oil as she gasps at how good it feels.

She licks her lips unconsciously as she meets his gaze. "Slick your cock up for me when you're hard enough, and I'll drive myself onto it. Let you sit inside of me while I tease you from this side."

That gasp of hers as he guides his hands to her wings certainly gets his 'attention', in more ways than just one. This is not an option he had considered, but with the way his hands feel with her oil on them (they have not ached since her blood was spilled upon them, but this is different) he suddenly has several ideas running rampant in his mind.

And to add to it, the way she's looking at him (hungry, she wants him) with her violet, near-glowing eyes, practically feasting?

He drops one hand between his legs, shuddering as the oil hits his cock.

"Could I ask you to kiss me, once?" He shrugs a shoulder, looking as innocent (but oh so wicked) as possible. "Or would you make me beg for that?"

Her eyes flick between his eyes and his hand on his cock. "No need to beg, darling," she tells him, breathy. "Unless you want to."

She steps closer. "Shall I kiss you before I'm on your cock, or after?"

"Before."

Skellig shifts a little, looking up at her. He might be laying on a bit of a pleading look in his eyes, just for effect, but he'll never admit to it. His hand is still working over his cock, slowly - like she was working her fingers over his skin just a moment earlier.

"Want to make sure I'm ready for you."

The pleading look DOES have an effect, though she would have kissed him without it.

She steps up to him, puts a hand on his face, claims his mouth with a kiss. She's careful at first, soft, but the kiss grows more intense, HUNGRY, as time goes on. He wanted a kiss, so by the gods she's going to give him a TOE-CURLING kiss!

The hand she places over his heart while she kisses him is partly for balance, partly because she knows he likes it when she touches him there.

Edited 2024-04-09 00:29 (UTC)

The kiss starts soft, and he matches it equally with intensity - a little surprised when she pushes it further, then further still - he realizes then that he likes this side of her, this part of the dragon that she's letting rise to the surface.

(And his toes do actually curl a little, gripping the blanket.)

Wrapping one arm around her back, he pulls her closer to him, not breaking the kiss. Eventually he takes a step back, goes down onto the blanket - how exactly it doesn't matter, physics and reason are out the 'window' when you're dealing with a dragon and an owl and two pairs of wings. He's on his back, she's straddled across his stomach, his arm still tightly around her, her lips on his and her hand pressed firmly against his heart.

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