11-10-2017, 12:36 AM
a ghost in the darkness.
He hasn't forgotten the night that Taiga had burned. When he had looked for only one, a flash of blue amongst the green and flickering orange. When he had realized the strange feeling that had twisted around his blackened stained heart. Worry. For her safety. It was a strange sensation… To give a shit about someone besides himself. He hadn’t liked it, had sensed the weakness in the emotion. It stank of humanity and he wanted nothing to do with it.
He had promised himself to place distance between him and his most loyal follower. To remember her place, below him. And yet, she had made it so difficult. She complimented his sadistic tendencies and was always able to add a twisted flair to whatever plans he came up with. If there was a protege to follow in his footsteps… It would have been her. Yet she had already risen from student to master. She had become… Almost… Equal. The title of consort was already a given but to make her Queen, to place her beside him… It makes them all the more dangerous. Just as it also exposes their weak spot.
That strange sensation finds him again, as her mismatched gaze finds his and he feels the curling whispers of his worry fade when he can sense her beneath calcified teeth. The fire that had licked along his bones hisses as it extinguishes, smooth strands of smoke rising from behind his empty sockets. He will have to do better, have to be harder, tougher. Has to remember that even if she was somehow his twisted soulmate in life (and he did not even believe in such things) that his purpose in life needs to be greater. That the knowledge he seeks will always be the number one priority in his life.
There is amusement hinting at the curled edges of her lips and he responds with his skeletal grin. ”Have you I shall.” Comes the teasing reply. She would remain Nightmother as well (as the title seems to suit her) until an appropriate replacement could be found. As she taunts at his new ability, he begins the ugly and painful transformation back to flesh. Blue veins and scarlet blood, raw pink flesh and sinew all fuse slowly into one until the crimson of his eyes pop back in their sockets and he is once more the ghostly stallion, wickedly grinning at her. ”I can prove your worries are unfounded if you desire.”
His nostrils flare as he runs his muzzle along the length of her backside, taking stock of the various scents he finds there. A brow raised as he finds familiarity in her fur. ”Ivar?’ He asks pointedly. There had never been jealousy when it came to finding their pleasures in the flesh of others. As long as she always remained faithful to him, it never would. Still he cannot help himself. Poking at her taste in partners just as he assumes she will once she takes a whiff of him.
They move away from the fire, from the flames that lick at the remains of the party and all the evidence of what had unfolded. Her mind is on rest but his…. His is on other things. He cannot help himself, to remind her that it is he that she belongs to. That there was only one that would ever matter when placed between her legs. Most would be repulsed, to taste the sweat of others on her skin. The stink of sex made by others lingering in the air. But not him. Instead, it excites him. To imagine the way she had crooned and writhed beneath their touch. To see the wildness in the white’s of her eyes and the groans that curdle in the back of her throat. Most of all he likes the challenge, to satisfy her the way the others never could.
His muzzle sweeps over her haunches as he slows his gait, as his teeth grab at her flagged tail and pulls it roughly, to slow her down. ”Come here.” He growls softly, his mouth already at the delicate dark flesh on the back of her thigh. Already moving beneath her tail as his tongue finds the hidden pearl that had been concealed. Tasting her and feeling his own need stiffen with the desire to place his claim on her indigo flesh. To place his claim and seed within her. He does not stop, pushing and teasing until she is so close… Only to pull away and place sharp nips along the backs of her legs. She would have to beg for it, beg for him.
He had promised himself to place distance between him and his most loyal follower. To remember her place, below him. And yet, she had made it so difficult. She complimented his sadistic tendencies and was always able to add a twisted flair to whatever plans he came up with. If there was a protege to follow in his footsteps… It would have been her. Yet she had already risen from student to master. She had become… Almost… Equal. The title of consort was already a given but to make her Queen, to place her beside him… It makes them all the more dangerous. Just as it also exposes their weak spot.
That strange sensation finds him again, as her mismatched gaze finds his and he feels the curling whispers of his worry fade when he can sense her beneath calcified teeth. The fire that had licked along his bones hisses as it extinguishes, smooth strands of smoke rising from behind his empty sockets. He will have to do better, have to be harder, tougher. Has to remember that even if she was somehow his twisted soulmate in life (and he did not even believe in such things) that his purpose in life needs to be greater. That the knowledge he seeks will always be the number one priority in his life.
There is amusement hinting at the curled edges of her lips and he responds with his skeletal grin. ”Have you I shall.” Comes the teasing reply. She would remain Nightmother as well (as the title seems to suit her) until an appropriate replacement could be found. As she taunts at his new ability, he begins the ugly and painful transformation back to flesh. Blue veins and scarlet blood, raw pink flesh and sinew all fuse slowly into one until the crimson of his eyes pop back in their sockets and he is once more the ghostly stallion, wickedly grinning at her. ”I can prove your worries are unfounded if you desire.”
His nostrils flare as he runs his muzzle along the length of her backside, taking stock of the various scents he finds there. A brow raised as he finds familiarity in her fur. ”Ivar?’ He asks pointedly. There had never been jealousy when it came to finding their pleasures in the flesh of others. As long as she always remained faithful to him, it never would. Still he cannot help himself. Poking at her taste in partners just as he assumes she will once she takes a whiff of him.
They move away from the fire, from the flames that lick at the remains of the party and all the evidence of what had unfolded. Her mind is on rest but his…. His is on other things. He cannot help himself, to remind her that it is he that she belongs to. That there was only one that would ever matter when placed between her legs. Most would be repulsed, to taste the sweat of others on her skin. The stink of sex made by others lingering in the air. But not him. Instead, it excites him. To imagine the way she had crooned and writhed beneath their touch. To see the wildness in the white’s of her eyes and the groans that curdle in the back of her throat. Most of all he likes the challenge, to satisfy her the way the others never could.
His muzzle sweeps over her haunches as he slows his gait, as his teeth grab at her flagged tail and pulls it roughly, to slow her down. ”Come here.” He growls softly, his mouth already at the delicate dark flesh on the back of her thigh. Already moving beneath her tail as his tongue finds the hidden pearl that had been concealed. Tasting her and feeling his own need stiffen with the desire to place his claim on her indigo flesh. To place his claim and seed within her. He does not stop, pushing and teasing until she is so close… Only to pull away and place sharp nips along the backs of her legs. She would have to beg for it, beg for him.
Gryffen
@[Thana]