Aza Iriq Lynel (
steppechild) wrote in
museboxofmuses2019-11-03 07:35 pm
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DRAGON AU
Prometheus hibernated a lot.
There wasn't much else to do, as a hermit-dragon. He couldn't venture out into the world in case some intrepid 'adventurer' wanted to slay him for bragging rights or his hide, he couldn't mingle with other dragons because he was one of Nidhogg's brood (a fact which was why he couldn't socialise with any Ishgardians because spears inevitably got involved in those conversations, he knew, he still had the scar on his hindquarters from his last naive attempt), and he knew absolutely no one else, knew nothing about the world or its new continents or civilisations, so hibernating it was.
But even then, sleeping got dull.
Prometheus sighed deeply, drawing his wings tighter about himself. Perhaps it was because he spent so much time sleeping, but his draconic body evolved to have furred wings - which was nice, it was very warm, even if they did shed some strange, fluffy black motes from time to time (he soon learned that these motes were highly toxic to mortals, probably from his subconscious desire to be left alone slipping into this body's maturing evolution). The downy undercoat of his wings was shed often and thickly enough that he even had a little nest, in a cave warmed by geothermic means, in the high mountains of Coethas. It was cosy, safe, and isolated.
It was also boring and devoid of anything. Prometheus came here... fuck, centuries? Or millennia? He couldn't remember. A long while, just after the war between Ishgard and the dragons kicked off in earnest. He flew here as a dragonnet, and slept and slept and slept, with miserable waking moments in between where he went to stretch his wings, eat a bear or something, and crawled back in his warm, soft cave to sleep some more.
He was avoiding reality, he knew. He didn't understand why he woke up in the form of a dragon - an alien species, not native to their star, how the hell did the reincarnation cycle mess up that badly!? - what happened to Amaurot, why the geography was completely different and... where Hades and Hythlodaeus were. He remembered, in the early days of his life, he would cry out through the Lifestream to hear nothing back, and was slowly accepting that, maybe, it was just him. Alone.
No Hades. No Hythlodaeus. Just him and his cave.
He exhaled heavily, flexing his claws as his body sluggishly roused from its latest bout of hibernation. His stomach was an empty pit of starvation, so he had to eat something calorie dense before dozing back off again. The only thing was, it took ages for his body to fully 'wake up'. Spending centuries practically in a coma made his limbs lock up, and it took a while for the aether flowing through his body to regain strength and feeling in them again. Not that he was in any rush...
There wasn't much else to do, as a hermit-dragon. He couldn't venture out into the world in case some intrepid 'adventurer' wanted to slay him for bragging rights or his hide, he couldn't mingle with other dragons because he was one of Nidhogg's brood (a fact which was why he couldn't socialise with any Ishgardians because spears inevitably got involved in those conversations, he knew, he still had the scar on his hindquarters from his last naive attempt), and he knew absolutely no one else, knew nothing about the world or its new continents or civilisations, so hibernating it was.
But even then, sleeping got dull.
Prometheus sighed deeply, drawing his wings tighter about himself. Perhaps it was because he spent so much time sleeping, but his draconic body evolved to have furred wings - which was nice, it was very warm, even if they did shed some strange, fluffy black motes from time to time (he soon learned that these motes were highly toxic to mortals, probably from his subconscious desire to be left alone slipping into this body's maturing evolution). The downy undercoat of his wings was shed often and thickly enough that he even had a little nest, in a cave warmed by geothermic means, in the high mountains of Coethas. It was cosy, safe, and isolated.
It was also boring and devoid of anything. Prometheus came here... fuck, centuries? Or millennia? He couldn't remember. A long while, just after the war between Ishgard and the dragons kicked off in earnest. He flew here as a dragonnet, and slept and slept and slept, with miserable waking moments in between where he went to stretch his wings, eat a bear or something, and crawled back in his warm, soft cave to sleep some more.
He was avoiding reality, he knew. He didn't understand why he woke up in the form of a dragon - an alien species, not native to their star, how the hell did the reincarnation cycle mess up that badly!? - what happened to Amaurot, why the geography was completely different and... where Hades and Hythlodaeus were. He remembered, in the early days of his life, he would cry out through the Lifestream to hear nothing back, and was slowly accepting that, maybe, it was just him. Alone.
No Hades. No Hythlodaeus. Just him and his cave.
He exhaled heavily, flexing his claws as his body sluggishly roused from its latest bout of hibernation. His stomach was an empty pit of starvation, so he had to eat something calorie dense before dozing back off again. The only thing was, it took ages for his body to fully 'wake up'. Spending centuries practically in a coma made his limbs lock up, and it took a while for the aether flowing through his body to regain strength and feeling in them again. Not that he was in any rush...
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Whatever. Dwell on that later. Food.
"Mmmphggfff?" he grunted, barely hearing Hythlodaeus and Hades's chatter as he pretty much inhaled the thick, meaty ribeye (rare) steak that had been on his plate - which he ate with his hands, of course, because what was cutlery. He looked up from his plate, cheeks bulging and half a steak still dripping with gravy clutched between his hands. He looked very much like some feral man they brought in from the woods.
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“Maybe he was always meant to be a dragon,” the simulacrum said.
“It’s soft meat, but still... that’s not difficult for you, is it?” Hades asked weakly as he poured himself a glass of wine. “I could conjure it already cut apart if you like...”
Let’s be real, Prometheus was a feral man they brought in from the woods.
“Did you really forget all your manners, Prometheus?”
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"What'd I do with manners as a dragon?" he asked cheekily, but he did temper his inhaling so he looked... well, less pig-like maybe. He still ate with his hands, though, pausing to lick and suck gravy and lingering juice off his fingers when they got too drippy. In no time at all he polished off his steak, though it barely put a dent in his appetite.
He usually ate fully grown polar bears, after all, which were slightly heavier than his dragon form. A little steak was a drop compared to that.
Prometheus considered this, licking his lips clean.
"I'm gonna need..." he made a quick calculation, "Another hundred of those, at least. Or just gimme an entire bear- actually, no, I'm sick of bears. They're all I've eaten for centuries..." What was as big as a bear, but not too tough with lean muscle? "A wisent. I want a wisent."
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A sleepy wisent appeared on the table. Hades flicked his wrist sending a bolt of dark energy through the back of its head. As it fell limp, Hades flicked his fingers, causing the skin to split and fly off. He rotated the beast, and as he drew lines in the air, the thing began to fall apart. The blood pooled off the table and onto the floor. Hades continued to manipulate the thing, flaying and separating it. By the time he was done, the thing was pulled apart in a macabre spread. The flesh was cut into in criss crossing strokes that one may pluck it apart like a pineapple.
“Enjoy, dearest,” he said even as he was dematerializing the less savory parts of the animal.
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Prometheus stared in morbid fascination, slowly glancing at the Hythlodaeus simulacrum who was sipping his wine like this was perfectly normal. For all Prometheus knew, it probably was. Maybe Hades developed a habit of just fucking summoning animals to kill and carve them up for dinner on a regular basis. If he only had Lahabrea and Elidibus for company, he must've been bored to insanity.
"...thanks," he said belatedly, eyeing the wisent chunks. Ah, it wasn't the same as ripping the corpse apart under fang and claw. Maybe it was his dragon instincts having too much influence, but there was a sense of dissatisfaction as he took one of the soft, red chunks and popped it into his mouth.
"..." he chewed slowly, the mumbled quietly, "I wanted to hunt it."
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Hades stared placidly at the corpse. He snapped his fingers, and the creature began to heal and reform. He flicked his wrist, reskinning it. He wound his fingers in the air before tugging the creature’s essence from the lifestream. It came back to life, drowsily standing on the large banquet table.
“Go on,” Hades said, scooting his chair back to watch. “Remember, you need only to remove your necklace to take your shape.”
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"It's kinda like shooting fish in a barrel, isn't it?" Prometheus groused, but he stood up and took a few steps back. The room was big but... wasn't Hades worried about him wrecking the place? It really felt like Hades was indulging him but, fine, okay, if he wanted to watch dragon him viscerally eat a wisent, he wasn't gonna judge him on his weird tastes.
Prometheus took off the necklace, hurriedly dropped it at his feet as he shifted back to dragon form. Ah, that felt better, if a bit disorientating shifting perspective and senses again. He gave himself a bit of a shake, letting his clawed wings unfurl from his back as the wisent seemed to realise the danger it was in.
It didn't have time to dwell on it.
On instinct tempered with experience, Prometheus lunged forwards. His jaws weren't made for clamping down on a wisent, or even a bear's, thick neck, and his fangs weren't sharp enough to even pierce through thick fur or muscle. No, no, no, Prometheus's method of killing was something simpler - and brutal.
He lunged, his forelegs clamping onto the wisent's shoulder, just for purchase, then, one wing extended up, its thick, long claws stretching out... then smashing down with enough force that the loud 'snap' of the wisent's spine cut through the air like a cracking whip. The wisent didn't even get a chance to bellow. One strike. Done. Neck and spinal cord severed and broken, windpipe crushed, dead.
Prometheus waited, though, pausing as he pressed all his weight down on that wing until he was satisfied the wisent was thoroughly dead.
"Better," he said, sounding satisfied.
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Hades seemed to be adapting quickly to the love of his life being a literal beast.
Hythlodaeus stood and dematerialized the blood splatters from his clothing. Hades snapped his fingers, teleporting all of them outside.
“I nearly forgot, I have a precious piece of art in that room. Well. Continue,” Hades said, drinking down his wine. “I’ll have to remodel, don't you think?” Hades asked. “Since you’ll... be staying with me, right?”
They were in a small grassy clearing with low, broad leafed tropical plants, tall palm trees, and soft silty sand beneath their feet. The trees offered lovely shade and cover as the morning mist began to form.
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"Of course I'll stay with you," Prometheus sighed, "What, you want me to go back to my depressing cave?"
It was a rhetorical question, but there was a niggle of genuine worry. Prometheus was a beast now, and Hades was rapidly adjusting to that fact but... still, an irrational worry Hades would turn around and think twice about continuing this on. Especially since he had other shit to deal with, like the aftermath of the apocalypse...
The belly now ripped open, Prometheus settled his wingclaws on the beast's flank and shoulder respectively, keeping it steady for the next part. He hesitated, lifting his head in Hades's direction.
"...you're not bothered about this, are you?"
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Hades lazily conjured a hammock and settled into it with a contented sigh. Hythlodaeus joined him, making Hades spill his wine everywhere as Hythlodaeus laughed. Hades cursed softly as he Created more wine in his glass.
“Why would I want you in that horrible cave?” He said, flinging rhetoric at the rhetorical.
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"Hm," he said vaguely, ducking his head and focusing on eating his meal before it went to waste. He started on the soft parts, guzzling up all the organs, using his powerful wings to move the carcass as needed to get a better angle, occasionally cracking the ribcage open wider.
He went on like that, devouring the carcass - bones, pelt and all - until nothing was left but bloodstains on the sand. He exhaled heavily when he was done, feeling stuffed and bloated - but satisfied. With that, if he didn't hibernate again, he wouldn't need to eat for a week. He cleaned the blood off his snout and claws, giving his wings a bit of a shake to dislodge sand from the furred membrane, before heaving himself to his feet.
He lumbered over to Hythlodaeus and Hades's hammock, sitting down heavily once he reached it and rested his head on Hades's belly, snout pressed against Hythlodaeus's side.
"M'stuffed..." he mumbled.
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“I love you, Prometheus,” Hades said, since nothing else filled his head so thoroughly in that moment except for his adoration and elation that Prometheus was back. Even if he was a sad collection of shards and a lizard besides. Life ever threw curveballs.
“Hmm... how do you prefer to take shape? I saw you walking so unsure before. I know it’s been a while, but how do you forget to walk,” he teased.
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"I love you too, Hades," Prometheus mumbled back automatically, nudging his head enough to affectionately headbutt Hades's chest before settling again. He kinda wanted to join them in the hammock but, urf, moving...
"Four legs are more stable than two, and I got used to it," Prometheus explained, before letting out a sulky sounding huff, "Such a dumb, inefficient design, bipeds. We should've evolved like dragons."
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“I think you would have made a fantastic dragon, Hades,” Hytholadeus chimed in.
At a time like this, Hades would be happy to doze, but he was still so uncertain about what might happen next, and he didn’t want to be caught unaware.
“I could shape into one easily enough,” he said.
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They managed fine with the sex, but damn, it was a bit awkward and took some figuring out. Of course, Prometheus had a human form now, so it wasn't like they had to keep doing it like that, but, hm...
"You probably could," Prometheus said, "But would you want to? Like you said, you wouldn't be able to wear trousers. Or, uh," his snout wrinkled into a grin, "You could wear trousers as a dragon, but you'd look ridiculous. Heh..."
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Hades waved his hand, crystallizing some aether. He shaped it into the rough form of a dragon before adding his signature shapes and parts. It ended up looking rather menacing, but so did he form he took when he battled. He gave it spiral horns and golden claws, shaping his sigil subtly into the wings.
“Something like this, maybe?” he said, slowly spinning it midair. “Perhaps it is too conspicuous. I already take another flighted form from time to time... Not that I would want to fuck as it.”
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He flicked his feelers up when he sensed Hades shaping aether, watching the form take shape. It was a conventional dragon shape, but with hints and dashes of Hades here and there. He scratched an itch on his snout by rubbing it into Hythlodaeus's side, prompting another nice round of snout pets from the shade as Hades finally finished his work.
"It looks good from here," Prometheus said, "Maybe have more powerful hindquarters for, um, you know, jumping power for flight. Yeah."
Dragons did, after all, have powerful, muscular hindquarters for jumping - the initial push from the ground was a mixture of brute strength, manipulation of wind aether, and wingspan. Prometheus's form leant more towards brute strength, his powerful wingarms offering him insane lift, alongside with muscular hindquarters for jumping power.
The fact that a strong rear enhanced other activities was just a plus.
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Muscular haunches, eh? Hades gave Prometheus such a look as he did what he was told. “And this has nothing to do with the fact that you want me to mount you as a dragon,” he said with a grin.
“If you’re both going to be dragons, I want to be one too,” Hytholadeus said. “Not for Hades’ perverted reasons, though.”
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"I tried it once..." he said coyly, letting the admission hang there between them before moving on. Truth was, he had tried it, and it hadn't been fun in the slightest. The angle had been awkward, he couldn't quite get a good rhythm going, and he'd been worried about accidentally nicking himself with his fangs. But, Hades didn't need to know that.
"I want you to mount me so hard," Prometheus purred, his tail giving a few happy thumps at the thought. Hades fucking him had been nice, but the size difference meant he hadn't quite filled like he wanted. As a dragon...
Mm, okay, cool your passions, Prometheus. You're still a bit too full to get overly excited.
"Nah, you'd just want to watch and judge us from a distance," Prometheus said, briefly forgetting this wasn't the real Hythlodaeus. He playfully headbutted Hyth's arm, and looked over Hades's revised dragon form, "Oh, yes, that looks good."
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Hyth laughed exactly the way he would and petted Prometheus as he shimmied to take up more of the hammock. “He thinks he’s getting this back but he isn’t,” Hythlodaeus whispered.
Hades circled them until his could settle and place his own head on Hythlodaeus as well.
“Well?” He asked, obviously fishing for praise.
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His tail flitted, kicking up small clouds of sand, nudging Hades's snout with his own. His feelers flicked up, letting him really take in the 'shape' Hades had taken.
"Hrrrm..." Prometheus dragged the contemplative noise out, his head tilting to the side as Hythlodaeus's fingers found the perfect spot just under his jaw, briefly distracted.
"Elegant..." he murmured after a pause, his snout wrinkling in an imitation of a playful grin. He knew exactly what Hades was fishing for, and he planned to give it to him... in a way, "Perfect execution as usual, Hades. Not a single bit of aether wasted, and the form is excellently proportional and aesthetically pleasing to look at. You've gotten a lot better with crafting wings too."
Like they were back in Amaurot, critiquing each other's Creations.
"In short," Prometheus added, "You look sexy as hell, from a dragon's point of view."
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“You haven’t even seen every bit of the design yet,” Hades said with a swish of his tail.
Hythlodaeus sighed happily beneath them. “Give me a wing or something. The morning breeze is pretty chilly. Unless you’re gonna go leave me to fuck in the sand...Hades, make me a blanket.”
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"Yeah, Hades, make him a blanket," Prometheus purred, shifting to get his hindlegs under him properly as he rose from his lazy slouch over the hammock, "I wanna inspect your design in detail."
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Hades backed up some and lifted a leg as he shifted his weight. “Like so... or would you like me on my back?”
Hythlodaeus naturally turned towards the action, bundled up and eyes hooded.
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"Like this is fine," he rumbled, his feelers still flicked up as he boldly shoved his head underneath Hades's raised leg. There was the protective sheath, as expected, a pretty sizeable one compared to Prometheus's own - the tip of Hades's cock was already poking out, the tip dark and already promising a very big package tucked away in that sheathe of his. Hm, of course. Prometheus really wasn't surprised he'd make himself big.
He exhaled heavily, letting his warm breath fan over the sheath, and let out a low crooning noise of obvious pleasure. It had been nice being fucked by Hades before, but the size difference... well, it hadn't been as filling as he liked. To have this in him, backed up with the raw strength of a dragon...
Prometheus's tail lifted, and flitted from side to side, that now familiar prickle of arousal clenching his belly as he shamelessly nuzzled the cock tip with his snout, his tongue darting out to lap at it teasingly.
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