museboxofmuses | DRAGON AU

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...

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Now, normally, dragons wouldn't find anything attractive about a mortal's form or how it moved. They were attracted to the soul and, of course, to draconic characteristics like lustrous scales and powerful hindquarters and beautiful patterns, things like that. But Prometheus wasn't a normal dragon, still retained his appreciation for a humanoid form (Hades's, specifically) and was transfixed by the sensual, swaying movements, the glitter of gold from shifting jewellery and the flutter of too-thin silk.

A glimpse of his inner thigh there, a near glimpse of Hades's privates from beneath the silk, the arch of his back and strong movements of his legs, mm, yes, Prometheus very much liked it.

He let out a noisy breath, nostrils flaring as he shifted slightly, his interest becoming very obvious when his sheath opened slightly, the very tip of his cock protruding as his tail started to rhythmically pat the ground, almost like the wagging of a very pleased, happy dog.

Hades snapped his fingers, swapping the music to match the beats of Prometheus’ tail. He approached, all wiggling hips as he placed a hand on Prometheus’ hind quarters. He turned, bracing himself against this creature so much larger than himself to offer his best solution to a lap dance for an animal with no lap. He turned, moving towards Prometheus’ head once he saw his cock peeking out with some satisfaction.

Hades pressed a hand against his snout, then pulling it back in a gentle caress. As his movements brought him further away, he began to unclasp portions, allowing them to dangle freely. The first part he lost was the cloth just barely covering his chest as it was no longer clasped to his necklace. It hung down between his legs. He teased the sash around his waist before briefly offering Prometheus a peek at his half-hardened cock.

Prometheus made a very small noise, low and rumbling, when Hades offered him that teasing peek, lifting his head as he started to very quietly pant. His feelers flicked up, to offer him more clarity - the swirl of aether around Hades and the sultry, mischievous thrum of his soul. He very much wanted to touch, and he leaned in slightly, his heavy breathing stirring the thin silk barely keeping Hades's decent and making it flutter.

He was beginning to recognise that clenching feeling low in his belly, taut muscles clenching and relaxing as they slowly forced out his cock from its sheath inch by inch. Not quite as amazing as Hades's, it still made an impressive sight, thick and slightly curved, rippling from near black to dark purple at the tip. Prometheus had to shift slightly, lifting his hindleg so it wasn't resting directly on top of it, his hindquarters leaning more to the side.

The impressive part about Prometheus' was that it was simply him. Hades could make anything at all, of course... And he had no doubts about the clarity or precision of his work. Hades was so caught up in his dance that he nearly forgot that he could exploit additional senses. He flooded the air with his scent, dropped his soul's barriers, and allowed his presence to truly overwhelm. The raw density of his soul and earnestness of his desire permeated the very aether.

He pressed his hands against those feelers, biting his lip as Prometheus' hot breath ghosted over his cock. "Do you want a taste?" Hades asked, voice soft, yet confident. With a flick of his wrist and tug of his hand, he magicked the air to grip and pull at Prometheus' cock in simultaneous puppetry of his motions.

Prometheus whimpered when Hades flooded every sense that he had - scent, touch, aether, soul - flexing his claws into the ground under him as he almost drowned in it all. The phantom touch against his cock almost undid him, groaning low enough it rumbled as a deep purr as his hindquarters quivered, cock twitching as a bead of precum collected at the tip.

"Yes," he panted, nudging his snout at Hades's silky loincloth, pushing it aside until he could nuzzle the cock full on. But, while his scales were smooth and soft, they probably wouldn't all that comfortable to rub against, he thought. So, he opened his mouth, hot breath fanning over Hades's cock as he dragged his tongue over it, thick enough that Hades's cock rested comfortably against it.

Hades continued his left-handed ministrations as he began to brace himself against Prometheus' large head with the right. He began his slow, rhythmic thrusting against his tongue, his own breath catching as he hardened fully. He spread and lifted his leg to give him enough space. He was too confident in his mending abilities to be too put off by all the teeth. It would just be a momentary inconvenience.

Hades began to enlarge the phantom hand on Prometheus' cock, the purple aether swirling until it grew more solid. A bystander would be absolutely baffled by what exactly might be going on. Unless that bystander was Elidibus, and then he would just be irritated.

He squeezed the leathery horn, deciding to be cheeky and press the flat of his tongue against it, then curling the tip up to drag against it. He'd said they were sensitive, hadn't he? He pressed his mouth against the horn fully again, doing the sort of things he might with a cock to inspire him.

Prometheus shuddered where Hades brought his feelers into the mix. They were sensitive, and he found when Hades lavished a fucking blowjob on them, Prometheus found they were very sensitive. Every nerve sparked, his vision filled with odd shapes and sounds from the overload of sensations, and his claws twitching and digging into the ground, leaving deep grooves as he panted around Hades's cock, only just remembering to keep his jaws open and not to clamp down.

But, stars, he felt like he was slowly getting peeled apart in the best way possible. He rutted, as well as he could in his awkward position, against the phantom hand, a solid press of warmth wrapped around his cock. He could feel his slit start to loosen and grow wet too, and he purred, low and deep, as heat clenched hard below his gut. He rutted harder, practically fucking the phantom hand, the base of his cock starting to thicken from a knot.

Hades felt the knot form as he tugged on his cock. Excellent, he must be getting close. And honestly, he was too. It was Prom’s fault for sure; but he’d found his sexual tastes in the last couple weeks skewing towards dragons. Of course Prom would give him an interspecies fetish.

Hades backed off from sucking the horn just to properly watch his cock press and slide against against that broad, wet tongue. He angled himself just right, watching the foreskin slip down. He pressed forward, greedily laying his balls at the tip of his tongue.

Prometheus grunted deeply, like a rutting bull, those odd, strange glints of purple light flickering along the underside of his wings as his pleasure started to hit its peak. He curled the tip of his tongue around Hades's balls, nudging and gently pressing against them as he started to taste precum against the flat of his tongue. So, he purred, low and deep, the vibrations rumbling up from his chest, his throat, through the bottom of his jaw to his tongue.

It was hard to keep up though, because all he could feel was that taut heat clenching harder and harder in his belly, his forelegs tightly gripping the ground under him to give him purchase as he fucked Hades's phantom hand like he was in heat all over again. The knot thickened to its full width, and every time those phantom fingers squeezed and tugged on it, it made Prometheus see literal stars. All he could think was to fuck harder, faster, harder, faster, harder, until-

"Uhhhh...!" Prometheus let out an obscenely loud moan when everything tipped, vision flashing in strange colours as he cummed messily into Hades's phantom palm.

Hades found it so easy to tip over the edge with the vibrations against him and the thrill of the Prom’s come on his hand. He released hard against Prometheus’ tongue, gasping and freezing in place with a tremor in his hips. After a moment he found it possible to rock his hips again, smearing the mess on his tongue.

Hades pulled back, aware that this jaw position was somewhat unnatural for him, just wary enough of those fangs. Sure, he could barrier it if he was worried, but he would feel terrible if Prom cracked a tooth. His come dropped from his phantom hand before he remembered to dismiss all of that into the void. Hades turned, laying against Prometheus. Sure, the size different was silly, but he wasn’t about to toss away a body just to cuddle. So wasteful!

It was a good thing Prometheus was already lying flat on his belly because his legs sure felt a little wobbly after that. He grunted quietly when Hades practically flopped on him, swallowing the release on his tongue and licking his chops, purring low in his throat.

He unfurled a wing, settling it around Hades in lieu of a proper cuddle.

"That was lovely," Prometheus sighed, nudging his snout against Hades's belly in a nuzzle. All he could smell was sweat, musk and Hades, "I feel all... tingly..."

“It was,” he agreed, giving himself ideas for next time. Hades waved his hand in the air, dispersing some of his scent into the aether. He left the music in place.

“Tingly good, or tingly different from the other times?” Hades asked as Prom covered him with a wing. Life really was never as you imagined it. He laid, warm against Prometheus’ flank, feeling rather like he’d earned some rest. And a shower. He glanced around the stables, noticing that the yol had been watching them for... likely the entire time. Coming down from it all, his thoughts turned to the soul that he now idly watched.

“... So. What should we name it?”

"Tingly good," Prometheus rumbled, resting his head on Hades's lap. The tingly feeling was good, making him feel all warm and sluggish and drowsy. He curled up a little bit, really making himself comfortable around Hades's.

"Hm?" So, he sounded sleepy when he replied to Hades, "Name... oh. I'm not sure..."

He mulled it all over, but for some reason the name 'Hydaelyn' kept bobbing up. The name was a strange one, no clear origins for it, hmm... maybe he read it in a book? Knowing Hades, he'd probably want something traditional, though. Or... sentimental...

"Metis, maybe?" he said quietly.

"Metis..." Hades repeated. And then he felt the emotions coming on so hard and quick that he could not stifle them. His shoulders shook as he began to weep. He buried his fingers in Prometheus' wings as the cavalcade overtook him.

What would Master Metis think about everything he'd been doing? He had searched, searched for a bloodless way. He had spent thousands of years in isolation, in grieving and depression. And still he carried on, marching to the beat of Zodiark's drum. And where had it led him?

He was never happier when a calamity struck, merely grimly hopeful. And when they finally did succeed, what was left for them? How would anyone truly accept what they had done when they had not watched it happen?

Their people had become divided in the time between Zodiark and Hydaelyn, after all. He wondered miserably about how Metis would speak to him now. Would she reject him outright? Condemn what he had done? She had offered herself up that others may live, after all. She believed in the convocation, that they would do right, that they might save their people, their children.

Hades wailed softly into Prometheus' wing, muffling himself into his arm.

...okay, out of all the reactions Prometheus had expected, Hades bursting into tears hadn't even remotely made it onto the list.

"H-Hades?" Prometheus stammered, too surprised to do anything at first before he lifted his wind enough to curiously nudge at Hades with his snout. He cautiously reached out with his soul, tentatively trying to soothe all the bubbling guiltdespairguiltgrief just flowing from Hades like water spilling through a cracked jug.

Had Prometheus accidentally triggered some bad memories of Amaurot's Fall? In fact, Prometheus never asked how Metis had... passed. He, shit, he was a moron-

"Hey, hey, shh, Hades, c'mon," he crooned, "I'm supposed to be the crybaby, not you."

Hades wrapped his arms around Prometheus' head, crying, trying to still the quivering in his face. He found that he couldn't, but letting it outpour was relieving. He dropped his soul's barriers again to allow Prometheus' soul to try to mend and comfort his. And in this undistracted atmosphere, he allowed Prometheus to sift through his feelings.

He allowed Prometheus, for the first time unguarded, all of his sadness, anger, grief, guilt. Things that he could share with no one else. But at the end of it there was hope, levity, and joy for the first time in so long that he could barely recognize it. His weeping eventually tapered off and he rubbed his eyes to clear them. His voice came quietly, pinched, and hesitant.

"I have... Much to tell you. Soon. But not right now," Hades said as he released one more shuddering breath.

He went silent for several seconds, his soul propping itself up in the puffed-up showman that he always was at his core. "I think we could name the child Hythlodaeus."

Prometheus reluctantly allowed the topic change. It was clear pushing Hades to explain what the fuck that had been about would just be detrimental to him. Still, he filed it away for something to ask him about later... even if it made a quiver of anxiety go through him. He didn't want to rock the boat...

"... you really wanna fuck with Hyth using our child?" Prometheus huffed, but the idea was pretty funny, "Ugh, I'm actually kinda tempted, to be honest..."

Hades knew he would have to own up to all of this sooner than later. How cruel would it be to drag Prometheus along all of this, forever, unknowing? After all, the truth invariably always came out.

"It would be an honor for him, to have a child with his namesake," Hades said with a grin. He conjured a handkerchief to wipe his eyes and nose before tightening his hold on Prometheus. He shivered slightly and pulled his wing closer.

"I suppose we'll ask him what he thinks of it all when he comes back," Hades replied. "Although I'm nearly sure we could get him to call the baby Hythlodaeus and force him to go by a nickname."

"You just don't wanna remember an extra name," Prometheus said teasingly, resting his head on Hades's lap again. Looked like the worst of Hades's tears had passed, "Though, maybe... why don't we try a more... native name? What's this place called, Azim, right? Maybe... hmm..."

"I already remember so many names," Hades said. "I don't think I get enough credit."

Hades thought grimly for a moment that it might not last forever. Or. Might it? Ugh, this was difficult.

"Native, hm?" That was relative, wasn't it? Native for this area would be something like Batu, Yeke or Erdeni. Hades was already posing as Azim himself and tooling around with their religion for fun. "Azim is the God of Dawn here, but just a little ways across the ocean, and that person would be Azeyma. Curious, isn't it?"

"Azeyma..."

The moment it was said, Prometheus just Knew. That was it. That was the name. It was rare for him to get these flashes of insight sometimes, but this time it was practically beating him about the head yelling this is the right choice-

"Azeyma," he repeated, firmly, "We're calling them Azeyma."

"Hm, the Goddess of the sun from the God of the Underworld and the Titan of fire, is it? How dramatic," he said, as if he weren't. "It's a lovely name," he said, rubbing circles into Prometheus' scales with his thumbs.

"An Amaurotine Dragon named for neither. Yggdrasil might have been more appropriate," he said. "I'm not saying you can't call the child Azeyma," he clarified.

"Good, cuz it's what I'm naming them," Prometheus said simply, then let out a wry laugh, "Well, it's a bit of a mouthful to say all the time, so I'd probably call them... let's see... Aza? Yeah, that sounds like a nice, short nickname."

The more he thought about it, the more it... yeah, it was a good feeling he was getting. He nodded slowly.

“As if Prometheus and Hythlodaeus aren’t mouthfuls,” Hades said with a bark of a laugh. “And I’ve been saying both names forever.”

If Prometheus was in control of the culture, he likely wouldn’t have opted for such long names. “Are you tired?” Hades asked as he felt himself lull. Now it had been a truly tiring day. As he settled, he felt Hytholadeus’ thin soul reach out to check on the two of them.

"Yeah. A lot of my aether's going to Aza," Prometheus said, feeling a strange kind of thrill saying that. He couldn't help but let his soul flutter happily, especially when he felt Hyth reach out, "Greedy lil' shit already."

Snout wrinkling in amusement, he playfully headbutted Hades's thigh, muttering; "Taking after you."

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