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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [mature]  Tell the devil I'll be coming back for more; Megz pony
    #1

    I tried to sell my soul last night
    Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite

    Ahhhhh, hell yes. Goddamn, but he’d missed this. How the hell one misses something they’d only had for a brief time and not in decades (literally fucking decades), he’s not sure. But the hell if he hadn’t.

    White wings stretched wide, he glides on a current, allowing the wind to buffet him along a twisted and winding path. He’s still practicing, getting used to the vagaries of flight. But holy shit it feels so fucking amazing. Freeing and all that jazz. Yeah, he’s not one to wax poetic. But if he was, oh man it would be fucking poetry.

    Um, yeah, let’s pretend that thought never crossed his mind. Can’t having anyone thinking he actually has feelings. Shudder.

    In no time at all he’s lost track of how long he’s been soaring. Long enough that he’s tired. Screw that. Fucking exhausted. Which means naptime. His second favorite activity. Well, maybe third by now. I’ll leave you to guess what the first is.

    He drops from the sky, dark eyes peering below him. Without much grace (because that shit is hard so fuck that), he plops into the shallows of the river. He wades deeper, then, with a groan, settles himself into the rushing waters. The swift current soothes his warm skin, rippling against overused muscles. Damn. He thought he’d been fit but apparently flying takes a different kind of fit.

    Stretching his wings wide, he lets the current bubble against his feathers. Fuck yeah, this is the life. Maybe not an ideal place to nap. But he’d find a nice patch of sunshine in a bit. Take a nap as he dries his feathers. Fucking perfect.



    @[Megz]
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    #2
    She giggles out loud as he groans. She had been watching him practice from below, although she must have caught just the last little bit of it. She had thought to stretch her own wings, thought to launch herself into the sky and see what kind of mood he might have been in. Instead she had stilled when his body came hurtling through the sky and he kind of just...plopped in the water. The thought of it makes her giggle again, a young innocent sounding laugh. Misleading perhaps in sound by how old someone might think her to be. She was no longer a filly, but she was still young, still perhaps bathed in the innocence of her upbringing.

    She was black, but there were a few very faint patches where her fur looked almost silver. No doubt by now he was looking for her from the sound of her laugh. She slips from the brush, lingering briefly along the edge of the water and tilting her head just a bit to the side as she smiles. “Still learning huh?” She remembers when she was young, when her body had ached and ached and she had thought she would die from the pain of her muscles growing. She stretches her own long black wings out experimentally. “It gets better. You did a good job.” Her head bobbing towards the sky briefly.

    She tucks them back against her. “How long have you had them?” Not one for immediate introductions (she blames that on her papa), she continues conversation as if they had always known each other. Her weight shifting and settling along until one of her legs cock and her hoof rest on the edge. “Or, if you have had them, why are you just now learning to fly?” A curious smile curls her lips as she waits for him to response to her.
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    #3

    I tried to sell my soul last night
    Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite

    Oh, fucking hell. Apparently he has a spy. His face twists into a scowl as the sound of girish laughter reaches his ears. For fuck’s sake, take a picture. It’ll last longer.

    No doubt she’d gotten an eyeful by now. Although, in the end, suppose he can’t mind too much. Hell, if a woman wants to stare at him while he baths, she could damn well come out and he’d give her a show. Then, almost as though she’d heard his thoughts, she appears from the underbrush. Like a fucking wraith. A pretty little wraith. Which he sure as hell doesn’t object to.

    For a long moment, he just stares at her. She’d stared at him for who knows how long, so why the fuck shouldn’t he return the favor? Her silly question deepens his scowl however, though he doesn’t bother to respond. Well, shit, if she could tell he’s still learning, he needs to step up his game. Not that it’s any of her goddamned business. Unless she wanted to make it her business. In which case he’d require more than a few pretty words and an innocent laugh.

    Hell, she might even be too innocent to get a reference like that. Not that he still wouldn’t try. Yeah, he’s a fucking bastard. But that’s already pretty well established.

    He snorts a bit derisively at her compliment. Damn straight he’d done a good job. Not his first rodeo after all. She seems curious though, and he’s always been suspicious of excessive curiosity. The fuck you care for anyway? Which, of course, he puts so gracefully into words. “Who the hell wants to know?” he retorts casually, brown eyes narrowed on her dark form. “And why the hell do they care?”

    Because who actually asks these things for curiosity's sake? Not Ashhal, that’s for damn sure. And naturally, he can’t actually conceive why anyone would want to know.

    Reply
    #4
    His scowl only deepens her smile. And she didn’t seem bothered by the long eyeful that he took of her in return. Graeme seemed to think along the same lines as he did, and so naturally it didn’t bother her. Not that it would have anyways. She was oblivious to the lines of his thoughts. While he had hundreds of years to get as he was, she had only been around for a few and so the immortality that lingered in her blood and body hadn’t yet made itself known. Someday, she would be as old as he was now, but he would still be older.

    “Well I do. I thought that was obvious.” She says with a tilted head, though that ever present smile still there on her face. It’s a roll of her shoulders for a shrug as she decides to make her way closer to the river, her lips touching the cold surface of it for a brief drink, even as her eyes stay on his. “Because I’m curious. Aren’t you ever curious about things?” Questions after questions. Oh yes, she would bug the hell out of him because she liked to know things. She got that want from her Papa too. She missed him, maybe she would have to see if she could find him and her family.

    She forced her attention back upon the stallion before her though. “You still need to work on your landing though. It’s easier in the water of course because you can just drop if it’s deep enough, but on land you gotta be careful or you’ll break your leg.” She smiles a bit, maaaybe a bit of flirting there in the gleams of her dark brown eyes. “And you have nice legs, so that would be a shame.” She watches him for another long moment. “What’s your name?” Or she could just call him studmuffin. Maybe she would do that anyways. He seemed like a good one to get all riled up.
    Reply
    #5

    I tried to sell my soul last night
    Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite

    Fan-fucking-tastic. Somehow he’d landed right next to the one equine who would pellet him with endless fucking questions. Hell and damnation. Could she get any more naive? And chatty. Holy shit she’s chatty. His damned luck apparently.

    He stares at her with that scowl still etched onto his hard features, not quite sure what the hell to make of her. He still doesn’t answer her question, not that she seems to expect him to. Really, how the fuck does she just keep talking like that? Her next bit of stellar advice draws another snort from him, along with a bitch of an eye roll. Shifting in the water, he begins to makes his way to the shore, muttering under his breath as he does so. “No fucking shit Sherlock.”

    And still she talks. Really, he only knows one way to shut her the hell up. And wouldn’t that just surprise her panties right off. (In this scenario, we’ll just pretend horses wear panties.)

    The water sluices from his pale skin as he rises from the current (like a fucking greek god. Just picture it. Because, naturally, what else would Ashhal be?). Snapping his feathered wings wide, he sends an arc of glistening droplets flying before stretching his neck out to shake his entire body, spraying water everywhere. Oops, he might’ve gotten her a bit. Well, shit. Definitely not accidentally on purpose.

    Finally settling his wings, he steps from the water, eyes darkening as he fixes his gaze on her, the scowl disappearing entirely. “Ashhal,” he finally offers, starting with the very last question she’d asked him. The rest, well, fuck it, he’s not trying to remember that far back.

    Stepping closer, his lips curl into a faintly wicked grin. At this point, he’s uncomfortably close, but given her incessant questioning, he’s not sure she would hate it. “You know, you talk a lot,” he continues, his voice dropping into a low timber, a suggestive note lingering in his words. “I could think of a hell of a lot of… more pleasant things you could be doing with those lips though.”

    Ah yes, real class act, our Ashhal. But hell, at this point he’s ready to find out if she’s actually as innocent as she comes off. Bonus points if it put a stop to her chattering.

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    #6
    When he started to move from the water, she automatically stepped back from the edge. Making room, even though there was an entire stretch of bank along either side of her that he could have climbed out of. She was just nice like that. It doesn’t perturb her that he has yet to really say much of anything to him. She could have a one sided conversation with a rock, which, ironically, is what he is remind her of right now. Besides the fact that rocks don’t move and they certainly don’t shake the water from their bodies to purposely get her wet. She did have siblings, she knew the game.

    She stretched her own wings out wide, giving them a little shake to remove the droplets of water that had splattered across her. She smirks a bit, brown eyes sliding across his water-darkened form, only for her mouth to go a bit dry as his scowl vanishes and his eyes take on a look that makes her feel like she’s on an all you can eat buffet.

    “Oh boy.” She mumbles, her hooves dragging her backwards by small steps as he approaches, until her butt bumps against a large rock (ironic right) and she is stopped. But hey, she learns his name and her ears prick up a bit at that bit of information. Even still afterwards when he continues to talk, and maybe especially because he had that wicked curl to his smile, she quiets. Apparently to get her to shut up all you have to do is come onto her.

    She opens her mouth to speak but her mouth is dry. She swallows, her body dwarfed by his larger size. She’s not sure if she should feel excited or if she should be worried but oddly she was still just curious. “Like what?” That curious gleam finding its way back through the other emotions churning there in her eyes. She would like to say she was appreciating the way that his body looked but she couldn’t take her eyes off his face as he captivated her.
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    #7

    I tried to sell my soul last night
    Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite

    Well, fuck me, that actually worked. And didn’t she know if he actually has his way that’s exactly what she’d be doing? But let’s not get ahead of ourselves Ashhal. Still any number of ways this could turn sideways. Of course, he’s pretty damned used to dealing with shit like that. Really, he could make do with just about anything. Lucky girl, ain’t she?

    She could be, if she played her cards right.

    Fucking cocky bastard. But he wouldn’t be Ashhal if he were anything else.

    His smirk widens a bit as she mumbles ’Oh boy’ while nearly tripping over herself to back away, apparently overcome by his mere presence. Damn straight. She wouldn’t be the only woman he’s left speechless. And the hell if there isn’t more where that came from.

    With that wicked curl still etched on his lips, he steps closer once more. His wings tuck neatly into his lean sides, the well-toned muscles of his shoulders flexing with the movement. Fucking dilettante that he is, he still manages to keep in shape. And the hell if there isn’t something women find as mouthwatering as handsome face and a hard body. He’s a goddamned heathen, sure, but he’s not a fucking idiot.

    Holy fuck, but the way she wavers with uncertainty is delicious. That little hint of curiosity gleaming from her eyes doubly so. Oh hell yeah, he has her now. His eyes darken, his features turning positively hungry. He closes the remaining distance between them, his muzzle coming close to the dark skin of her cheek. A breath away, almost touching but not quite. His tone devilishly dark, he finally murmurs his response, his breath whispering past her skin as he does so. “I could show you, if you want.”

    Reply
    #8
    Overcome. Yes that was a good word. He made her mouth dry and her eyes couldn’t help but linger on the way his dark eyes gleamed at her. She still felt a bit like she was being stalked by a predator but not in a bad way. Well, maybe, she didn’t know, it was all rather confusing. Especially as his body crowded closer to hers, his muzzle against her cheek and his warm breath stirring the air around her shoulder. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, tilting her head just slightly so she could see him.

    Dangerous. It was a word that slithered through her mind as she looked at him. He could be, couldn’t he? All that sleek muscle, and the way he absolutely knew he was beautiful. She doesn’t answer him, although his words tell her that there were absolutely all kinds of things he could show her.

    She couldn’t speak past the nerves suddenly in her throat anyways. Instead she stretches her body forwards, taking one small step so her lips can find the hollow of his throat and drag her teeth lightly across it in a pinch. Then she shifts, turning so she can see his reaction still curious, still unsure as to what he meant, but willing, absolutely.

    There would be worse things in the world than letting him teach her all kinds of delicious things that set her heart aflutter in her chest. Flashes of the same kind of look in her father’s eyes and her mother’s eyes as they stared at each other. Pieces of her childhood were out of place right now, and so she went back to thinking about the way his lips would feel. All kinds of delicious thoughts.

    Innocent but perhaps not ignorant. “Okay.” She manages to finally say past the knot in her throat. Her eyes wide but willing.

    @[Ashhal]
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    #9

    I tried to sell my soul last night
    Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite

    Ohhhh, she doesn’t know what kind of fire she’s playing with. He’s so far from a fucking monk it’s laughable. And that one little ‘okay’ is all he needs. Hell, most of the time he doesn’t even need that. (I mean, we have already established what a bastard he is.) But he’d given her that one small chance, slim as it was. And she hadn’t taken it.

    She’s his now.

    And holy fuuuuck, the way her teeth scrape across the sensitive skin just at the hollow of his throat. So much better than any yes anyway. She’s so fucked, in all the ways that count.

    A low growl escapes his throat as he pushes abruptly against her, dark eyes gleaming with devilish intent. He could be dangerous, if he wanted to. Fucking deadly. But she’d enjoy every damned one of his touches. Danger is so fucking seductive, and she is learning first hand just how much so.

    His teeth grip her crest, pulling her roughly against him before her releases her. Kisses soothe the abused skin, brushing gently, tantalizingly across that dark satin. They look so fucking delicious together, black against white, broad, hard masculinity against delicate feminism. Fucking perfection.

    He presses hard against her, trapping one of her delicate wings between them. His lips and teeth tease her skin with hungry certainty, following the elegant slope of her spine, nipping along the downy curve of her wing. His teeth and tongue are everywhere, tasting and touching, an erotic dance designed to drive her wild. When he finally took her, he wanted her savage and mindless.

    He wanted every bit of her to match each of his harsh, demanding instincts. His perfect counterpart in this uncivilized dance.

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    #10
    She was nervous, her heart was fluttering in her chest. Rapidly pushing and pulling the blood through her body...not fluttering. Her heart was slamming against her rib cage and she was surprised that he couldn’t feel it against his body when he abruptly pressed up against her with a low growl. It sent an odd sensation through her abdomen. Something warm and curling and waiting…

    When his teeth grab her, the feeling intensifies and she can’t help the soft breathy sigh that escapes her lips. When his lips caress her skin, first there on the tender skin and then elsewhere. Well, she didn’t know that pain could feel so good. She sighs again, leaning into his touch, pressing back against him and closing her eyes as he trails down her spine.

    Her eyes are only closed for a moment before a thought occurs to her. She would do to him what he was doing to her. And so she does. She’s not exact, isn’t sure the exact amount of pressure to put into her bites but she adjusts basing on the sounds coming from his throat. She presses her lips and her tongue to the spots that she bites.

    But he is well versed in this art of seduction and she is merely a novice.

    His touches and caresses cause her to burn. “Ashhal…” His name a breath on her lips before her teeth bite down hard on the muscles in his haunch. She had moved forwards into him at some point in this seduction, giving her the ability to reach wherever on his side. Her lips trail across the bite, her body pressing against his. “I don’t know…. I need….” She didn’t know, she needed something and was unable to vocalize what it was.

    So she leans into him, giving herself over to him entirely and trusting him to give her what she needed.
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