Estinien Wyrmblood (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dravanicide) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kingdomcomes2017-08-19 08:09 am
dravanicide) wrote in kingdomcomes2017-08-19 08:09 am
Entry tags:
The time has come
Who: Estinien, Aymeric, and YOU!
What: Partially open; Estinien is around town as a half dragon, then he seeks Aymeric for the cure.
Where: Around town for the open part, the guard barracks for the closed part.
When: Evening
Warnings: Probably sex. Also, Estinien is half dragon??
Open to all:
[Estinien had originally hoped that the threat of slowly turning into Nidhogg was naught more than the bluffing of a deranged woman who could not handle his defiance. For the first couple days, it seemed to be the truth--but it took less than a quarter moon for the first signs to appear.
Try as he may to reverse the effects--avoiding the solution the Mistress offered him--he met naught but failure, despite what promises the town's alchemist gave him. Failure that has lead the dragoon to acquiring not only a tail and wings, but scales slowly consuming the expanse of his body, some adorning his chin and cheeks as if he were an Au Ra, and not an elezen.
Claws for hands and feet, he found himself budding four horns that protruded from his face in a manner not unlike a cone of shame. He could be seen around town, avoiding people as much as possible, zipping around corners to try and lose any who might attempt to tail him.
He's quite the sight to say the least, even more so when he attempts to leap away at the first sight of someone approaching him from the front--his horrid appearance was not one he wished to bear to any, and if he could avoid the attention, doubtlessly he would.
Jumping is something he is highly familiar with--after all, dragoons use jumping to dispatch dragons of their lives, it's their bread and butter in terms of fighting. What he isn't familiar with is how the wings offer a considerate amount of drag, and thus throw off the trajectory of his jump. Atop the roof he aims, but right into the second story window he lands.
Face first, and through the glass. A sorry display if there ever was one.]
Closed to Aymeric:
[After his humiliating run in with those around town, he's decided to give in ere he becomes Nidhogg himself. Slinking around the barracks as he can, avoiding what guards might be around, he finds Aymeric as quickly as he's able.
A feat that might have been easier through the journal, but he cannot entertain the idea of writing with these hands. He hopes Aymeric will aid him--he cannot begrudge him if he wouldn't. Not many Ishgardians would wish to bed a half dragon, after all.]
Aymeric. 'Twould seem the Mistress' word is far more good than I had hoped. I fear I need your assistance if I am to shed this horrid display.
[Help him Aymeric, he done cosplaying Nidhogg...]
What: Partially open; Estinien is around town as a half dragon, then he seeks Aymeric for the cure.
Where: Around town for the open part, the guard barracks for the closed part.
When: Evening
Warnings: Probably sex. Also, Estinien is half dragon??
Open to all:
[Estinien had originally hoped that the threat of slowly turning into Nidhogg was naught more than the bluffing of a deranged woman who could not handle his defiance. For the first couple days, it seemed to be the truth--but it took less than a quarter moon for the first signs to appear.
Try as he may to reverse the effects--avoiding the solution the Mistress offered him--he met naught but failure, despite what promises the town's alchemist gave him. Failure that has lead the dragoon to acquiring not only a tail and wings, but scales slowly consuming the expanse of his body, some adorning his chin and cheeks as if he were an Au Ra, and not an elezen.
Claws for hands and feet, he found himself budding four horns that protruded from his face in a manner not unlike a cone of shame. He could be seen around town, avoiding people as much as possible, zipping around corners to try and lose any who might attempt to tail him.
He's quite the sight to say the least, even more so when he attempts to leap away at the first sight of someone approaching him from the front--his horrid appearance was not one he wished to bear to any, and if he could avoid the attention, doubtlessly he would.
Jumping is something he is highly familiar with--after all, dragoons use jumping to dispatch dragons of their lives, it's their bread and butter in terms of fighting. What he isn't familiar with is how the wings offer a considerate amount of drag, and thus throw off the trajectory of his jump. Atop the roof he aims, but right into the second story window he lands.
Face first, and through the glass. A sorry display if there ever was one.]
Closed to Aymeric:
[After his humiliating run in with those around town, he's decided to give in ere he becomes Nidhogg himself. Slinking around the barracks as he can, avoiding what guards might be around, he finds Aymeric as quickly as he's able.
A feat that might have been easier through the journal, but he cannot entertain the idea of writing with these hands. He hopes Aymeric will aid him--he cannot begrudge him if he wouldn't. Not many Ishgardians would wish to bed a half dragon, after all.]
Aymeric. 'Twould seem the Mistress' word is far more good than I had hoped. I fear I need your assistance if I am to shed this horrid display.
[Help him Aymeric, he done cosplaying Nidhogg...]
no subject
[Without drawing too much attention to it, he takes the bottle from him and uncorks it easily, handing it back. Ordinarily here, he would start to undress, pour himself a glass of wine and get comfortable on the bed. Would that be alright here? He figured he can at least pour himself a fresh drink, his last left to turn to vinegar within the castle walls.]
So... Full eager am I to see you return to your proper state. The Mistress was not explicit in her terms of the curse, so I think that perhaps we could start with something... less.... [And he fails to find a word in time.] Penetrative.
no subject
Before nearly dropping the bottle. Surely it's because of his grip, and not because of the idea of penetrating Aymeric. What else could it be?]
Aye. She merely made mention of committing the act, but not to the lengths of which counted towards my cure. I would rather do as little as possible, if 'tis all the same to you.
[His voice is even, and he seems fit to lay claim to what dignity still remains, but the entire nature of this, all of it, leaves him so far out of his element. It is as if he's a babbling babe once again, or the scrawny child who first picked up the spear and could no sooner hit a target than drop the lengthy weapon to the floor with deftless hands.
Again he finds himself sipping at the bottle of ale, if any would be an indicator of his nerves, this would be it.]
no subject
[He was quickly uncorking a bottle of wine, about to pour it before he realizes that he has no glass. His eyes dip to it, he shrugs and drinks directly out of the bottle. He hadn't realized how nervous this would make him... But now that it was staring him in the face, it was somewhere north of terrifying. But he had his composure, and refused to show his true feelings on this. Someone had to stay grounded, here.]
no subject
[A jest to make light of this awkward situation. It doesn't help.
He makes his way over to the bed, and in an attempt to seem casual about this all, he sits down and looks to Aymeric. Bottle of ale still in... claw?]
Let us get this over with, then.
no subject
[He chuckles, coming to kneel between his legs. He sets the bottle of wine on the other side of Estinien's leg. He tries to still his quickening pulse to no avail, his face just a foot from Estinien's dick. He tries to keep calm and casual. "Let's get this over with."]
[He pulls Estinien's thong aside. ]
Estinien... I... Must inform you.
That... Your cock. Is missing.
no subject
It would seem that his genitals had shifted as well with this bloody curse. He did recall feeling something down below feel off, but he was too distracted by everything else to think to check.
Now there's naught more than a patch of scales where his genitals used to be, and a vertical crease of some sort.
By the Fury...]
... How am I to cure this ailment without a cock.
[His voice is low, but less angry than one might suspect. He's left in disbelief. Little does he know, he does indeed have a cock... it's just... well, inside. Time to play a fun game of whack-a-cock, except the object is getting it to emerge, than hitting it back into the hole.]
no subject
Do you reckon that 'tis alike a chocobo's?
[That adds an entire layer of unappealing to this entire situation. But there is no backing down here.]
Perhaps I'll... just... [He closes his eyes tight, reaching out to make contact with his lips. He swipes up with his tongue, pulling away. This was weird, very... Just very weird. He never thought he would have to lick a dragon's slit.]
Perhaps you have to become aroused first. [The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them.]
no subject
Mayhap... What a vexing situation this has continued to be.
[How inconvenient he must be aroused to have sex, oh the rotten luck!!]
I cannot say I am greatly familiar with any of this, so if you have ideas, pray enlighten me.
no subject
[But that did cause some...? sort of reaction...]
Mayhap... [He lifts a hand, fingers shaking in nervous anticipation. He runs his palm against the flesh and scales, pressing his thumb into the slit. He honestly has no idea what he'll find or what's going to happen here. His heartbeat is loud in his ears.]
We have... other options, if this doesn't work.
[But he doesn't want to scare Estinien into the ineffective embrace of another round of weird potions, so he presses his mouth to him once again. What... sort of mouth stuff do you even do for this situation. It's not a cock, it's not a cunt... So...]
[He just errs on the side of cunnilingus, hoping something happens here.]
no subject
[He would hope Aymeric has never fucked a chocobo. A thought he certainly doesn't want to entertain when he's supposed to be getting aroused, no less. But with all of Estinien's obsessing over revenge since he was 12 summers old, it's not as though he's had time or the patience for anything remotely intimate.
He barely stands people enough to acknowledge their existence outside of what's required of him, let alone to court anyone. This is all too new, and in no way how he's want or expect it to go. He did not have high expectations to begin with.
Wincing as the finger pries at him, he allows Aymeric to explore as needs be. He knows so little about himself sexually, this is as much of a seek and find for Aymeric as it is for himself. When the tongue returns, he allows his eyes to slip shut, trying to focus on the feeling, and letting his dick (he hopes he still has one) emerge.
Be it nerves, or maybe he's not much of a fan of cunnilingus, but what little stirring happens, does little to push the cock from its sheath.
A clawed hand pushes Aymeric's face away.]
Not that.
no subject
[And Estinien so kindly puts his dragon claw in his face while he's trying to doing something here. It earns Estinien an irate look. He stands, taking the bottle with him. He takes another long swig, noticing that the bottle was near a third of the way empty now. He drops his weight onto the bed next to Estinien.]
We could engage in a bit of foreplay, see if that heats your blood any.
[He places a hand on Estinien's scaly thigh. He would have tried to go in for a kiss, but those damned horns...They're blocking a clear path to it.]
no subject
The look goes ignored, seeing as Estinien is likewise annoyed with this whole thing. Sure, Aymeric is helping him, but his uncouth ways about things isn't going to change even if he's grateful for it.]
Foreplay, hm?
[Sounds like a waste of time, but fine. Whatever gets this going, Estinien can't completely complain. He looks to the hand on his thigh, then to Aymeric, quirking a brow.]
Is that supposed to do something?
[he's of no help at all.]
no subject
If you would be patient, it will. [He takes a hand to Estinien's shoulder, pushing him onto his back. He straddles his hips, careful not to pinch wings or a tail. He's quietly pissed that his normally very arousing hand-on-thigh was met with just... nothing]
I know it's difficult, but you have to try to relax a bit.
[As he avoids touching a horn to touch his jaw - he doesn't want to remind Estinien of them too much - He closes the space, pressing his lips against Estinien's, just hoping he wouldn't be met with bloodied lips.]
no subject
However, he lays on his back, wings and tail adjusting so, and he holds still as Aymeric descends upon his lips. As much as he might not wish to remind Estinien of the horns, it's hard to not see the bone-like structures out of the edge of his vision.
Lips meet his, and he freezes for a moment. Not being such a virgin that kissing is a complete mystery, he eventually kisses back with the grace of an inexperienced lad. He seems hesitant, whether from inexperience, or lack of desire—which it is is hard to tell—but he does not push Aymeric away. Clawed hands grab at his back and sides, as he clumsily attempts to smooth them over his body.
It's none too surprising if a claw catched on Aymeric, they are rather sharp, and Estinien is a bit more distracted with the kiss than anything else.]
no subject
[It would really help if Estinien would admit a longing affection for him or a penchant for blue eyes. Anything would help here.]
[His own hands move from his neck to his chest, his hips rolling rhythmically against Estinien's. He parts for breath, looking at Estinien's face. He could barely believe he had just kissed him. This isn't how he thought this would happen at all. Well. He was a man of flexibility, at least. As it was, Estinien's sweet, boyish kisses were melting his heart.]
[He sits up to look at him and to catch his breath. He pulls the laces loose on his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal a bare chest.]
no subject
Eyes scan over his shirtless torso, tracing the scars that painted him like a canvas—though their numbers were dwarfed by Estinien's own. There's some raw beauty to it, something that stirs Estinien far more than Aymeric's failed attempt at pleasing him orally couldn't achieve.
Claws settling on Aymeric's hips, Estinien grinds up against Aymeric, hoping the continued motion might further stir this foreign feeling, so that his loins may play their part as well. There is pressure forming down there, a feeling almost uncomfortable, but Estinien has suffered worse for less, and so he's content to continue.]
..'tis passing strange. Never did I imagine the situation where you would straddle me like a chocobo.
no subject
[The nerves and the pressure had thrown him, but he was still half-hard and making a valiant effort. Spurred on by Estinien's reciprocation, Aymeric braces himself on Estinien's chest, doing his damnedest to keep the pace of the grinding consistent.
[Why was the topic back on god damned chocobos. He would have to fix that.]
I might have imagined it. 'Twas more of a youthful thought, however.