CW:

Sex and BIG emotions.

When I become aware again, capable of thoughts beyond those of pain and heartbreak, I am wrapped in silken sheets and cold arms and… bubbles?

My Naranggas cuddle something tighter and… and I realize what’s calmed me.

I am drowning in Tretion’s emotions.

Her Amwella a song of cold care and possessive worry against the raging inferno of torment I’d fallen into.

A small lilting core of glacial truth seems to… to dance even amidst the rot maggots at her core. A thing I can only feel, but not read. Something of my curse she chooses to cling to at the heart of her everything.

We’re laying on her big bed. Forms curled around each other as the blighted talon sits behind me. As far from her as possible, wrapped in unrealized bubbles by her manor.

I can feel her awareness shift as my Naranggas wriggle a bit. Sense her drift into… into more active things and thoughts as her head tendrils begin to curl and wriggle through my hair and along my scalp. Caressing and petting and just... burying me in wonderful sensations.

And… Dreamer’s Tits that just drags me into pulling her closer and wanting to return to oblivion and soft nothings.

And so I do for a time.

But… eventually something begins to… to prickle at me as I bask in this pool of cool desires.

A… A worry? Something… something I… I’m forgetting?

“Sunrise.”

And then I’m panicking again. Gone from still and nearly asleep to a flailing mass of terror.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Tretion coos softly, but doesn’t release as she sits up amidst the silken sheets with me. “You're safe. You're in my manor.”

“S– sunrise!” I blubber out. Not… not fighting her slender cold arms or soft tendrils. Just… trying to slip away as we sit up together. “I… I have to be back by sunrise!”

A pause, understanding causes Tretion’s soul to flinch in sudden worry and… and other annoyed things.

Not at me… but…

“It’s barely sunset on the day we left.” She assures me.

My everything sags. A wash of panic gone and… and…

Horrible memories begin to tear at me again.

But… All I have left is slumped despair.

Barely a few hours among the Fae… and I’ve lost my family, and let word of my wrongness spread beyond my control. The curses I laid to protect my happiness are now a beacon for others that might wish to come and snatch it away.

“Thendra’s going to…”

All others will scorn or ravage you.

“Lyra, you’re safe.” Tretion pulls back after I’ve trailed off, but holds me close still. Her soul sings of protective fury. “No one. Fae or Reaver or Dreadweave themselves can come here. Not unless I show them to the outer gate myself.”

I huff. I’m not sure I could pull my Naranggas away even if I tried right now. Her cooling protective affections thrum through me like chilled water against summer’s scorch.

The bubbles sort of… slurp around me. Not solid, just… close. Hovering nearby in case… in case of... what?

Oh...

In case I need more hugs.

“Thank you. For… for pulling us away. For saving me.”

I can’t help but wriggle in… things… as I feel her core glow at my words. A little worry chipped off the edge of her soul's thrumming emotions.

Head tendrils continue to play with my hair as my own Naranggas squeeze and hug her soul.

This… she’s content to let me sit for a while, but… eventually a hand wanders up to my cheek. She doesn’t pull me into anything, just… lets me enjoy the cold and soft skin of her palm.

I only realize I’m leaning into her after we’ve sat still and quiet a little while longer.

“Lyra?” She whispers very very gently. So soft I would miss it if I wasn’t warned by her soul's siren song.

I… I can guess at her question. Or… or at least the chill winds that move behind it.

“I… I’m not sure…” Naranggas wriggle and tighten in contradiction to my words, almost... No not almost. They are trying to pull her closer.

And her soul hums in such enjoyment at their touch.

So I just... I take a deep breath and decide to give her my everything.

Or… At least whatever is left of me tonight.

I twist to take her hand in my good talon, almost flinching at the worry that stutters through her soul's hope that I mean to push her away, then gently press my lips to her wrist.

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Her body goes still, the other hand pauses its gentle slow caresses on my side. Even her head tendrils seem to pause. But this cold watcher’s soul shows me what the motion means.

She is roiling with passion and desire. Coiled and anticipating, but… she’s also careful. Patient and curious about what I mean to do.

Not wanting to assume she knows exactly what my touches of affection mean and take an action that could startle or scare me.

I begin to kiss then nibble on her wrist, enjoying the texture of her scaled skin.

“I… I’m not sure what I can offer after sunrise.” I tilt my gaze to find her pretty crimson eyes fixed on mine. “But… you can take anything of me that you want before then.”

Her soul melts a bit. Both in more of that wonderous passionate desire, but… also in sadness.

Then… the other hand wanders up to take my face as it solidifies into a determined focus.

“I’ll take anything you wish to give me.” She leans down and murmurs, tendrils curl around me tighter. “And offer you my everything in return.”

Lips of cold press to mine before I can decipher the songs of her soul.

Gentle and filled with the patience of a coiled hunter as she toys with her prey. She’s content to dance and entice me into leaning into her affections. Into… into chasing her kiss as she pulls back a touch.

Even lets out a few soft humming sounds as my talon drifts shyly up to touch her arm and explore the twistings of her flesh.

When we pause and separate for a moment, I’m so dizzy with her. Head a muddle of my own desires fueled by her frozen soulfire’s hungers, its growling thrum furious and storming now as my Naranggas pull her ever closer.

I’m not sure when she pulled me into her lap, or when I curled my legs around her. But betwixt her own Amwella’s siren call and my own broken emotions, it doesn’t matter. Next I know my left talon’s fingers are up and around her head, tangling and playing and squeezing at her tendrils and neat little horns.

And I’m lost in the scent and texture of her soft lips and wonderfully scaled skin.

Dreamer’s Tits the chill of her is intoxicating too! A strange thing I’d never think to crave after so many roiling nights of spiced warmth.

I press closer, and end up annoyed that I’m still wrapped in so many Dreamer Blighted Layers of nonsense! Almost… almost crave the light clothing she gave me before.

The thought makes me pause, but only for a moment.

Then her hands drift to the clasps and straps that hold everything fast to me. “Would you like these off?”

Her question sends a thrill of desire through me, “Y… yes.”

She chuckles into my lips, and we spend an annoying amount of time trying to remain as close as possible while also removing all our layers. Thank the Blighted Dreamer my Naranggas don’t worry about cloth and let me stay snuggled that way at least.

And then there is nothing between our souls but flesh.

I can’t help but shudder in such wonderful pleasure as our chests press together for the first time. Her cooled scaled skin a wonderful rush against the thrumming heat of my breasts.

She murmurs as I just… press against her. A little worry flicking in her soul. I pull her closer with everything, legs and arm and soul tails in answer. Feel her thrum with a sudden rippling rush of–

Then she’s lifting, twisting, and laying us back down into the silken sheets. I let my hold loosen just enough for her to move about. Lips press into mine for a few drawn out moments before trailing down my jawline and neck and then she just… pulls back.

I look up to find her just staring down at me. Soul thrumming with desire and worry as she spots my first curse still as angry and red as the day I carved it onto my collarbone.

“Lyra…” She murmurs. “Is… Are you okay?”

Her eyes have been alight with Amwella sight since we got back, but now they seem to focus. Trying to understand this scar.

I nod. “It’s…old. Can’t hurt me. Never again.”

Her soul flutters, then… settles. Then she’s leaning down to kiss the spot. I stiffen, talon goes rigid as her cold lips gently touch the blood brand.

Not… this isn’t a sexual thing. Just… gentle and… and…

Tears well up as I turn my face to the side. At this gesture more intimate than… than anything I’ve felt since Awnya’s embrace.

Maybe more than even that.

She senses this, and trails her working back up to my face. Showers soft gentle lips to wipe away my tears. This… this only causes more to bubble up as her soul thrums with… with such possessive desire for more of me. Even more of this.

No worry, no annoyance at my sudden choking sobs. Just…

Love.

The realization hurts for some reason.

Scares me on some deep level I can only express through my bubbling sobs and little whimpering apologies.

She can’t feel this for me!

She… she barely knows me!

Only… only…

But she only thrums with that… that blighted emotion again!

Drowns me in all the things as my Naranggas drink in the song from her soul. Murmuring soft coos and affectionate nothings as her lips dance over me.

“Pl– Please…” I stammer. “You should just...”

She pauses, but ignores my pleas. Continues to smother me with soft affections as my Naranggas squeeze tighter and tighter.

Suddenly Tretion lets out a little gasp and pauses. I jerk in horror as a bit of soulfire begins to leak from this watcher’s soul, and is drunk greedily by the tendrils.

I growl and fight to loosen their grip. Even start to pull them away. Horrified at the new little wounds my tails have bruised her soul with.

“I’m sorry!” I whimper in a panic. “J– just take a bite. Slice off whatever you need to heal. Tear or… Or rip or… whatever!”

"Lyra, I'm fine." She just… hums, the pain of my embrace a sudden rush to her soul.

Trails a torturously slow path of kisses down and across my body. Breasts and tummy and everything in between! Savoring every inch, leaving nothing untouched. Both by her lips and the mess of tendrils drooping down from her head to snuggle and caress the skin she’s moved past.

I tremble, letting her work and thrumming desires calm me.

She’s fine. She… she’ll take a bite soon and heal. It's barely a wound at all. Just… just let her take however big a chunk she wants…

As she finds my hips and dances kisses and nibbles across them too, I am wriggling and twisting. Good talon reaching out to grip at a cluster of head tendrils, the other blighted one tearing at the sheets as bubbles bob and shift around it.

Then she’s at my inner thighs, nibbling and kissing and… and just…

“You crafted for yourself such a wonderful body, Lyra.” She murmurs into me, so close… so so close and…

I'm shaking again, and at its height her tongue is at my second lips. Dancing carefully and slowly... So slowly. Like… like she’d break me if she presses any harder.

As if my body is this perfectly unblemished flower.

Despite… despite how ravaged she guesses I’ve been.

Up and down, soft and teasing, she enjoys every piece of the soft flesh as her tendrils wriggle horribly tantalizing patterns across my thighs and hips. I’m moaning now, whimpering pleas and soft murmurs. Sometimes begging her to be so much rougher.

To bite, to tear, to… to make me bleed!

But all she gives me is more gentle affections. Hands holding my legs apart while tongue and tendril bring me to a glacial brink of burning horny madness.

“Please… Tretion…” I whimper. “Just… just…”

But... Somehow, this watchers' gentle workings bring me to such a bubbling eruption. Made even stronger by her soul’s howling joy at the way my hip's arc and shudders, then fall back down to the soft sheets in a sudden exhaustion I normally feel after three or four feedings.

Even my Naranggas droop and sag, leaving only a single tendril to curl around her chilled core.

Then she is back up to my neck, crushing lips into mine, Amwella reaching out and…

Using a Naranggas as a tether to draw as close as possible, her soul grasps at mine.

And my afterglow becomes a sobbing thing as she absorbs my mess of emotions. I feel my Amwella melt into hers, a gentle kiss of soulfire, then she's pulling back with a piece of me painted across her soul.

Sending a sudden second rush of pleasure through my everything without even a whisper of pain.

I tremble in such cold euphoria as her lips dance over mine. Then she presses to me again, drowning herself in my sorrows and joys as her Amwella mushes into mine once more.

Not to feed, but to feel.

I fear she’ll jerk away. Pained by my… my muddle of fear and agony tainting the pleasure and need for her touch. The day’s failures have left me so raw and bare. And with only one Naranggas around her soul all those horrid truths are beginning to consume me.

“Th– thank–” I try to say. But a desire to apologize chokes me.

She coos a burst of such affection at what she feels behind those words. Her soul gives mine a little squeeze as her lips trail up to my eyes. Kissing away the fresh tears.

“I love you, Lyra.” She whispers so softy.

A flutter of warmth amidst a dead part of me stirs and drags such pain through my soul.

Like the first time Thendra called me a slave. Something should audibly crack at that word.

I stammer, “Tretion… I… I can’t–”

She interrupts me with a finger to my blubbering lips, as a tendril pushes a stray clump of hairs aside.

“I know. I’m not asking you to.”

Another crack.

“I wanted you to have someone tell you this.” She murmurs. “To let you know that they find you to be perfect and worthy of love.”

And another.

“But I’m not!” I force past her soft finger, “I’m… I’m blighted and horrible and barely Fae! Just… just…”

She sighs and shoves our Amwella closer. Letting her own rush of annoyance and love and sheer Dreamer Woven determination to smother me with her soul’s cold certainty.

Then she makes sure I've locked eyes with her and growls softly. “You’ll not insult my Bound Beloved again.”

I freeze, confused and scared and... and feeling the rest of that cracking part of my soul break away. “B– bound? Wh–”

“You wove yourself into my very soul, Lyra.” She purrs, and such joy and hunger rolls through her. “You bound me to you tighter than anyone else could.”

Wondrously cold… things roll down my spine as I consider the words of my curse she's kept close.

“B– but… I… You aren’t…”

She pulls back to lock those perfect smoldering eyes on mine. “You told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was yours. Always and forever.”

I whimper, realizing which part of my curse I see buried deep in her core. The command she’s chosen to keep. Despite my freeing her from all it's bindings.

“I’m so sorry, Tretion. I… I…”

But her soul roils with joy at the truth of her words. Buries my guilt and shame beneath the depths of her love. I can’t stop my Naranggas from reaching back up to weave themselves about her.

“I choose to keep this. You gave me that freedom.” Tretion grins and holds me together. The thrumming love coming off her Amwella acting as tether against the storm that are my soul’s attempts to ravage my mind with today’s pain. “And I've chosen to entangle myself with you forevermore.”

“I… I’m already bound. To… to Thendra and…”

No.

Not to Awnya.

The watcher just chuckles. “I’m not a possessive woman, Lyra. I can share your soul with as many metamours and lovers as you deem to take over the course of our long lives.”

My mind balks at the… all the things. At her willingness to share me and… and the sudden wide landscape of time that I might live though.

And in a fury of my own unspoken affections, I drag this watcher down to my lips and return the pleasure she's given me as many times as she can bear before the sunrise.