FFXIV Misc. Posts

[eightlazylegs]

For Eithyrs related threading.

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[snapandflounce]

It is strange lovemaking, but it's love making all the same. Emet-Selch dips his head to bite at that bared throat, mouth full of sharper teeth with which to nibble and graze, scraping them over the collarbone that Hyth still has.

He does have words, though, past silver'd lips. It mostly comes out as Hyth, Hyth, Hyth, because it's the only word he knows right now. Each roll of his undulating body brings it from him, stolen and precious.

One thing was missing from the creation, though: a means of climax. So there's no ending-- no plateau, no bodily release. It's literally going to just keep building until they're whited out with, till they give out and lay in tingling ecstasy, too fucked out and exhausted to even move. A bit of impatient oversight on Emet-Selch's part, but... it's hardly the first time they've fucked so hard that they couldn't feel their legs after.

Or anything else, really.

[eightlazylegs]

Currently Hyth doesn't even have legs so it's fine. He doesn't even have to sit up, all he has to do is lay there and take it.

All he can do is lay there and take it, because Emet-Selch won't let him do anything else. That's part of the fun of it, really.

Tears are starting to form at the corners of his eyes as the stimulation lingers on.

[snapandflounce]

Emet-Selech is similiarly a wreck when he body finally crashes through the white-hot noise of pleasure and simply has to stop and regain itself. Still transmitting mad signals through tendril touch until finally they too too start to die down, Emet lays in a pile of tingling nerves and little else for a time.

Once the aching, finally fading, gives away to the ability to think again, he's quick to cast away the shape and regain himself -- push pleasure to a pleasant memory and reach out to start to put Hyth back together with something like worry.

"I forgot myself," he says, even as he starts to weave flesh into the semblence of an ancient instead of ... whatever that was. "Hythlodaeus, are you alright?"

[eightlazylegs]

Hyth makes a long, shrill tone like a dying machine, flopped out boneless on the floor next to his couch. Still, there's a shaky smile on his face as Emet-Selch puts him back together. "No, but it's lovely, so don't worry about it," he says dreamily.

[snapandflounce]

Drawing his fingertips along the planes of Hyth's face, Emet-Selch allows himself this unguarded moment of naked concern, golden eyes so bright and wide as he checks and reaches the weave of his lover's aether. Everything is there, everything is put together right, but-- well, senses are senses regardless of body. Once he concludes his examination, he comes to the truth:

Hyth is just like this, and he was enjoying all of it.

"I don't understand you," he says, and he really means it.

[eightlazylegs]

"You wouldn't," Hyth mumbles, giggling to himself. It's some time before he manages to put himself back together enough to speak, and he lays there petting Emet's hair and letting out little bursts of laughter.

"Anyway, even if that wasn't the most well thought out transformation, it was nice ot see you lose control. Just a little bit. Very nice to be the one you lose control over."

[snapandflounce]

"Ego, then," Emet-Selch says, once he gets them somewhat repositioned; clothed, yes, but also held and protected in Emet's long arms. "Why must you push so?"

He knows why, he's just a little bit afraid of it.

[eightlazylegs]

"Because it's what gets you to points like this." Hyth runs fingers down a strand of Emet-Selch's hair, now sadly reduced to its original state."To where you're willing to let your power overwhelm another person."

[snapandflounce]

"But that isn't what my power is for," Emet-Selch says. "It is to improve the Star for all our people, not just debauchery. This is..."

Enjoyable, yes, and he hates to admit it. But it is also as close to sinning as the ancients have a concept for it. It is for the singular pleasure and not for helping, not for improving. This is just letting the inner beast that Emet-Selch has a very tight leash out to play; sometimes, that's frightening.

[eightlazylegs]

"Yes, yes," Hyth soothes, patting him further as if he's a child in need of comforting. "But it's refreshing to do this, every once in a while, yes? It doesn't hurt anyone. No one is deprived because you've shapeshifted your genitals into a more interesting configuration for a time. Right?"

[snapandflounce]

Hyth's vulgarity knocked him right back to himself. Emet-Selch peers up through his fringe of bangs, disheveled and not just a little bit sweaty.

"I beg pardon," he grumbles, putting up his comfortable, prickly front. "Must you be so crass after I have made you weep with pleasure? Did I not service well enough, Hythlodaeus?"

[eightlazylegs]

"I was trying to be encouraging!" Hyth pouts, trying to clean up that messy hair with his fingers. "Your service was exceptional as always, my dear Emet-Selch. Why do you think I work so hard to make sure you take a little for yourself as well?"

[snapandflounce]

"I care for myself perfectly well," Emet-Selch says, still invoking perfect. He must be perfect, must fulfill his role perfectly, must be a light for the Star; that's why he was chosen. Because perfect Hythlodaeus turned it down, and Emet-Selch now must live up to the idea that his friend passed on something and now he must meet a bloody impossible standard.

Never mind that Hythlodaeus is right: he was better for the job. But it's come with it's costs, too.

[eightlazylegs]

"Mmm. You are...sufficient, I think. But sufficient will only get you so far." He's still fussing, pawing at Emet-Selch's hair again. As if it could never be fussed on enough. "But if you strain yourself until you break, what harm will come then?"

[snapandflounce]

"Sufficient?" Emet's voice went up a octave, as he craned his neck and peered at his lover, who was clearly yanking his chain. "Oh, sufficient, I see. But you can do better, then."

He won't break. He can't. He has to be the Emet-Selch that Hythlodaeus deigned not to be.

[eightlazylegs]

There's a moment of sadness in Hyth's face. "Yes," he says, and then the mask comes back up again and he's got that serene, mischievious smile he always does.

Yes, because he worries what will become of Emet-Selch without him. It's part of why he could never rise to that office...because Hyth can get along fine with Hades out saving the world, but Hades could never do without Hyth beside him.

[snapandflounce]

The words sting and earn a flinch, pride flayed open. Emet's tired eyes turn away, but he does not pull from Hyth's embrace, merely goes cold in it. Leaning against him, he makes no move to get up or leave his side, but stares at something in the distance. A toppled table couldn't possibly be that interesting, but Emet-Selch looks at it all the same.

[eightlazylegs]

Crud. He's spiraling, time to distract. "I did have another idea," he says, pressing a few kisses along Hades's cheek. "If you're willing to let me drive for a little bit. I visited Elpis the other day, we were discussing concept husbandry. The way they carefully control and monitor the more dangerous creatures, not Pandemonium's lot but just the ones who can get easily upset." His hands paw at Emet-Selch, adding additional stimulus, trying to draw his friend's mind away from the cold, lonely place it's sliding toward.

[snapandflounce]

Emet is stupidly easily to melt; he does not want to hold on to hurt or pain long, even if it sometimes grabs him and drags him down by his collar.

He seeks a hand to weave his fingers with, to take up to his hand so he can kiss the pads of them. "Tell me, then, how the concept farm amused you this time."

[eightlazylegs]

Hyth reaches out for the aether in the room - the flowers decorating his walls, the pillow on the couch, and crudely weaves them into a cord and collar that encircle Hades's throat. The end of the leash rests in Hyth's hand as he smiles brightly - it's a thin construct and will disappate in hours, but they don't need it to last.

"Would you be my concept, brought to heel, my dear?"

[snapandflounce]

Oh, he even shaped something! He must be serious. All attention on Hyth and spiraling thoughts fading, Emet gives a little nod. "And how must I heel then, if I'm some unruly creation? How will you keep me well behaved? Or must I do tricks for amusement, or experiments to record?"

He's curious, at least, to the game.

[eightlazylegs]

The leash length bends and twists, until it becomes an ethereal rope sweeping around Emet-Selch's body into strange, sensual pattern. "Ah, well.. If you're unruly you must be bound up." He puts his hand gently across Emet-Selch's mouth. "Perhaps even muzzled. I know how dangerous your mouth can be, after all."

[snapandflounce]

"I beg--" your pardon, he doesn't get to finish. He squawks a little, noisy under Hytholodaeus' hand before he goes for the most juvenile response ever: he just pokes it with his tongue. Fine, gag him, he'll just slime up your finger.

(No one thought Emet would be anything other than a brat, right?)

[eightlazylegs]

"Or you could just be some beast who can't even speak." His hand slides lower to wrap gently around Emet-Selch's throat a moment. Mmm, but to lose his words might not be worth the fun. Hyth squeaks and yanks his hand back, giggling, when Emet-Selch licks him.

"Brute!" he protests, and gives him the lightest of little slaps. "Rowdy little concept!"

[snapandflounce]

He's not sure why it tangles him up so, but Hyth's hand on his throat goes straight to his cock. The levin racing down his spine is also audible-- that got him to jerk in his grip, before he sucks in a breath when his mouth is free again. But he takes his swatting and scoffs a little for it.

"Of course I'm unruly," he says, rolling to lay on his belly and look at Hyth, chin propped on his hands. "Maybe I'm one of Hermes. He gives them so much and then he's surprised they fly off or do strange things! they certainly need leashes."