Hunter had spent a considerable amount of time patrolling the tunnels down below. Even when part of him split off to go and tend to something in the forest the majority of Hunter remained in that underground sanctuary, roaming and consuming and listening. Learning. But he did get curious. The more Dinah spoke of her brothers the more curious he became, so he left slivers of himself down below and amassed the majority of him in the house instead. He emerged in the bunny hutch out in the garden, an extra floof of black fur that hopped his way out and into the house, only to stretch and grow into a mostly-boy to the shriek of one of the house maids. They recognized him at this point... but it certainly wasn't any less alarming. And it amused Hunter to no end. He smiled toothily at them before squiddling up the stairs, less in steps and more in a smooth flow of legs that were, in the end, not really legs. He stood at the top landing curiously, contemplating the doors and the rooms beyond before moving over to the next
door over from Dinah's: Drystan's room. A single, inky black tendril slipped under the crack of the door and popped up on the other side, growing a blinking eyeball that stared about the room itself curiously.
Drystan was alone on this night, and had taken up a few activities. In the corner of the room a canvas was sploshed with a gray blue ink, as another smaller finer brush inked black lines and swirls around the dripping paint. Next to that a large book was opened, pages turning slowly, then stopping. Drystan himself sat on a trunk on the other side of his paint cupboard, dressed in pajamas and a bit of a robe. He was half glamoured, lazily lounged there with one long leg crossing over the other, as he watched the tip of a razor edged knife dig into his skin, drawing sigils and wards. The same that matched those on the pages of the book behind him. The skin was sealed shut instantly leaving only small beads of red behind, no scar, nothing. Near invisible wards. He'd been remembering, practicing, regaining his skills as it pertained to hermetics. His clawed hands were clasped in one another, palms up, as the knife moved delicately across his skin. Once in a while he would lift his arm, and let a bit of blood spill off into a bronze plate, before returning to the practicing. He did not notice the Hunter eyeball under the door. He was all focused and motes of light swirled about him as he cast magics into his skin.
Hunter slowly pulled more and more of himself into the room, one eye stalk becoming an arm, then a shoulder and torso and the rest of him. It was quiet, mostly... except for the wet squelch of tissue rearranging itself. It was unmistakably Hunter though, even if Drystan turned and saw him mid-squish through the crevice. The eyeballs and the inky black limbs were hard to place otherwise and any more hostile being likely would have taken the opportunity to catch prey off-guard. Not that, at that moment, Hunter viewed the eldest Windgrace as prey. He regarded Drystan with a wide and shark-toothed smile as he painted, taking a deep inhale at the scent of blood that lingered briefly in the room when he made those cuts. There was a little sliver of a presence at the edge of the eldest brother's mind, less like a knock and more like some wild animal coming up to a doorbell camera and peeking in. < Drystan is good at telekinesis > observed the squiddle. < Good with runes. Casting on ftaghu - on flesh. What are you casting?>
Drystan looked up and all his actions across the room paused, including the knife that was still stuck in his skin. "Hunter!" Oh, my goodness..." He had caught him just as he'd squelched most of himself under the doorway, and had stepped inside, speaking in his mind. Slowly he let the things over at the table come to a rest, and then took hold of the knife itself and just held it. He thought for a moment, then replied to the talk in his mind. <Is it easier to talk like this? I can respond to you now, Would you understand my ah'gotha vulgtmnahor? Understand your words, my meaning better?> He looked up at Hunter's face, fascinated by how much he looked so much like both of the twins, and recalled that Dinah had urged him to talk to him, more, in general.
Hunter tilted his head to one side, watching the things just stop mid-motion. His eyes darted to the knife still clutched in Drystan's hand. He smacked his very human lips for a moment and hummed. "Can talk like this, Drystan," he said, though his voice sounded a bit hoarse from all his squiddle time in the tunnels. He cleared it and hummed again. "I understand, even like this. Unless ... unless you want to practice. In lloig." He tapped his head and made a little pantomime with his fingers of a mouth opening and shutting as he wandered closer to the desk. "Have been thinking. Should practice speech, human speech more. Be more... be easier. To communicate. To kadishtu. To understand." He lifted both shoulders a little TOO high for a natural shrug before relaxing again.
Drystan leaned forward some and looked at him around the corner, "Alright then, we shall outwardly speak. I'm sure you'll have the hang of it in ho time. You're quite smart you know." He placed the knife down next to him and waved his hand a bit. "It's nothing fancy, simple protection wards. When a Tindalos bit me, and siphoned my memories..I forgot nearly all of the wards and sigils I'd known by heart ...since I was young. I've been working the last few months since then to regain the skill. I think I'm doing quite well for having the unfortunate run-in with the guardian." Drystan didn't seem to mind the exaggerated motions, the things that defined Hunter as not human in the least. Instead he took him in as a whole creature. One willing and able to learn how to be more human if anything else, just to communicate with ...well, others.
Hunter furrowed his brow at the mention of the hounds and the incident. "Drystan has lost memories," he repeated, nodding to confirm his understanding. Hunter came around and stood in front of him, hands moving to worry at the sides of his own temples as his very twinly face frowned in contemplation. "I can help. Return them, maybe. From the phlegeth." He looked up at the eldest sibling and chuckled a little - which was more like a chitter of an animal than an actual laugh. "The Hounds. Nnn-yar. They watch... remove things that are wrong. But... Drystan's memories. Windgrace memories. Should remain, I think. So - fuck the Hounds," he said and chittered again at the use of something he NO DOUBT picked up from Blake. "Agreed? Want them back, Drystan?"
Drystan laughed as Hunter chittered, "Yes, they serve their function, and do it quite well. I have respect for them, their purpose, but they do sometimes get to be a bit difficult round Ritual times.." He cocked his head, and blinked, watching his face, then he laughed heartily at THAT response. "Oh my...well, you ....could do that? Just...give them back to me?" He snapped his fingers. "Just like that? Or is there a process to it? Will it hurt? Maybe I should get some ice for my head after.." The last part he more mumbled to himself as he had started to look away, thinking about the possibility of having his mind finally be whole again in matters of his Hermetic Mastery, they were already not as keen as Dinah's but he wasn't Dinah, he had gone his own direction, they had different strengths. Nonetheless, he had been feeling a bit feeble ever since. "Agreed...I do want them back. Yes Hunter."
Hunter grinned and nodded as Drystran laughed, clearly pleased that the other man also seemed pleased by the prospect. The question though lifted his arms, their many eyes all focusing on Drystan. "Process. Yes. Must find them... take them, Put them.... " he made wriggling motions with the finger-like appendages at the end of each arm, "....back in. May hurt, but... you want them back. So - it is good pain." Hunter nodded solemnly before stopping mid-nod, his main two eyes directed at the ceiling. "Hmmmm. Maybe - not good pain for YOU. What is... good and bad pain, for Drystan?" he asked, mimicking the gesture of placing one's hand on one's hips.
Drystan opened his mouth to answer and then stopped himself, looking down and around, as if that answer fell out of mid-air and was scurrying about their feet. "Ahhhh...you know, that...that is a good question. A very ...advanced question, .." He looked back up at Hunter with his hands on his hips and shook his head. "It is not easy to describe. I can take a lot of what one may consider ...bad pain...and it becomes very ...very good pain. There is bad pain that...I cannot withstand, and it hurts very much, but ..I still enjoy it?..." He licked his lips, and tried so VERY hard to say things delicately in a way he might understand. "And yet still there is pain I cannot withstand that I do not enjoy in the least. It is...a...Spectrum." He cast his hands in arc in front of him. "Everyone is at different places on this spectrum, under varying circumstances. It can be a very personal thing. It can be tied to pleasure, to sexual pleasure, the pain? It can evoke things in human bodies like adrenaline, other hormones and chemicals depending, and those can be delightful, but the method might be painful..." Oh he felt like he'd already said FAR FAR too much. "I'm..uh..willing to try, whatever it is." He paused. "Do you feel pain? or ...does any of what I said make any sense at all?"
Hunter listened intently. He did not blink, did not even seem to breathe as Drystan gave his little dissertation on pain and its various flavors. Once he stopped Hunter nodded several times, vigorously enough that any ordinary human might have come across as a liar had they done the same thing. "Yes. I have - " he looked at his arms and the wriggling tendrils that made them up. " - nerves. Everywhere. Feel many things. But.... hm. Never thought about bad or good... for me. Never seems... bad. Except - except hm." He patted his chest, then pointed at his head. "lloig? Orr'e? Not the body. Not pain of the body. Pain felt in the mind. In the... chest." He leaned forward and squinted at the third eye in Drystan's forehead then down at his chest. "Do you understand?"
Drystan nodded softly. "Yes..I know of that pain. All too well. That's a different sort of pain. It's not physical. I'm sorry that you've felt that sort of pain." He frowned deeply. He let his breath out through his nostrils. "If you ...are hunting and your prey lashes at you, catches your body, the exposed nerves, if it tears or pinches, or bites..physical pain. It just...Is, for you then? I wonder if you could experience ...good pain then, if it's all the same to you. Hm." He scratched at his chin and shrugged a normal human amount.
Hunter huffed, his lips turning downward into an exaggerated curve of a frown. He looked away from Drystan for a moment then shook his head. "It is better now. The bthnknythgof'n remembers now," he said and when he turned back to Drystan he was smiling again. The next bit pulled that smiler into a wider grin and as Drystan shrugged Hunter laughed, snickering and giggling and waving a hand back and forth. "No no - Drystan. It is all good," he clarified, grinning.
"Have you been hanging around Blake quite a bit? That sounds like something he would say, or do you mean to say, all of your pain is good?" He took the knife and fake poked it towards him, in tiny jabs. "I don't think that's what you're getting at."
Hunter looked down at the poking knife. "Yes," he said, as he watched it jab at the air in front of him. "Have been hanging around Blake. Was asked to watch him, a little while. But - also yes." He lifted a hand, all of the eyes on that arm fixating on the point of the knife as Hunter set his palm to it and pushed quick and sudden, until the blade popped out of the eyeball on the back of his hand with a sick squelch. There was a ripple that ran through the Eldritch spawn's entire frame, culminating in a dilation of pupils in the two main eyes and a lengthy tongue licking his lips. "All good."
Drystan Windgrace watched fascinated yet again as the blade went through and popped out the eye on the back of his hand, the ripple, akin to a shudder, his eyes changing, lip licking. That he recognized. "How amazing.." Drystan stood, looking at Hunter in nearly a new light. He pulled the knife out of Hunter's hand and set it beside his plate of blood. He hovered his hands to either side of what appeared so much like kin it was easy to forget he was a creature unto himself. "So, do you feel....ahhmm.. pleasure? Like a human would? Is that something you've ever experienced? Sexual pleasure?"
Hunter kept his hand incredibly still as Drystan pulled the knife out of it. It had left a true wound, not something the squiddle had taken the time to morph his body around to make space for, but something that had truly pierced him. A lump of a swallow worked its way down his throat and he looked at the hand as it dripped blackish-brown blood onto the floor. "Don't know.... how a human feels pleasure, Drystan," he said with a breathy undertone to his voice. Hunter put the stabbed hand to his mouth, licking at, in... through the wound and humming low and almost melodic in his throat. It certainly SEEMED like it felt good. The question was whether or not the Yog-spawn had any frame of reference otherwise. Or even knew what Drystan meant by 'sex'. "Good pain. Is pleasure, right?"
Drystan Windgrace (jacksonn.shepherd) was transfixed by the way he suckled his wound, but shook his head side to side. "Of course you wouldn't, how dumb of me. But no, it is ,,,,much different. it is feeling good on a higher level ...it makes your...here.." He placed a hand on Hunter's chest where he had tapped before, "makes that feel good, your body, yes, but your soul..Oh my Hunter. You've missed out on the good stuff."
Hunter looked down at the hand on his chest. His grin closed into a contemplative sort of frown for a moment and he tilted his head as he considered what Drystan spoke of. The bloodied hand came up and gripped around Drystan's wrist. There was something like a heartbeat pounding in Hunter's chest - not at all familiar in rhythm or regular in cadence but certainly there, speedy and chaotic. Those myriad eyes, which had been half-shut in shared pain of the stab-wound all opened to stare at Drystan. "Show me," hissed Hunter, leaving no room for question on the matter. The other hand planted its palm on Drystan's chest, pinning the necklace he wore to the eye stained on his skin. Fingers elongated, stretching like tendrils to encircle the other man's torso as if to keep him from running from the request.
Drystan Windgrace lifted his elbow as Hunter's hand came to rest around his waist, tendrils encircling him. He could hear and feel the odd heartbeat, it was a song he'd not heard before in anyone or anything. "Yes, okay. I will show you, and you will return my memories. Sounds like a fair trade...." He looked down at Hunter's body. "It might be easier, ...if you could emulate a human female. In every detail you can, nerves, hormones, as good a mimic as you can. You know human anatomy, yes?"
Hunter blinked at Drystan for a moment. The tendrils that went to wrap around his body stopped and retracted and Hunter's face took on a curious hum. "Like Dinah," he stated, less a question and more a fact. Hunter nodded and turned to the wall, planting his uninjured hand on it and simply... leaving it there, detached from his wrist. The eyeball in the back of it looked at him as he began to shift, changing his shape, molding his torso - making it entirely clear that any "clothes" that Hunter wore were not clothes at all but the squiddle making parts of himself LOOK like clothes. It wasn't at all long before a rather nude Hunter stood in front of him, grinning proudly as she waited for some kind of confirmation that she'd done it properly.
[00:58] Drystan Windgrace (jacksonn.shepherd) watched, evry bit of the transformation he could, not wanting to even blink. It was a marvel what he could do. He hadn't even really registered when he'd said, "Like DInah." Because yes, Dinah was a human female,..or was human, but LOOKED human, at least sometimes. It wasnt till Hunter had 'finished' and turned with the bounce of curls JUST like Dinah's Drystan sort of gasped and clomped his gaping jaw closed. He quickly looked her up and down and then kept his eyes on the face that was...a lot like DInah, but had that uncanny valley feel to it. Hunter was there, he could see that. thankfully. "Yes...yes that is...human..and female. Hmm very much so." He coughed and ran his hand over the shaved side of his head, before gesturing to the bed. "Please make yourself comfortable, laying down...Uh...I figured female was the easiest way, but clearly men, and everyone in between can feel very similar things, just in different ways..." He pulled off his robe and let it fall to the floor. He did for a moment, give
[00:58] Drystan Windgrace (jacksonn.shepherd): himself a moment to pause, to think about what he was doing, and the manner in which it ws being done. He could have told Hunter to change in any number of ways, but he didn't. He knew he hadn't. Also, what he was going to introduce to a creature of time. This was all new territory for him as well. But...that moment of thought, that pause? was gone as soon as it came.
Hunter seemed inordinately pleased by his response. Drystan's jaw hung open and Hunter laughed, clapping her hands together and bouncing up and down - which of course sent other things bouncing. THAT feeling had the squiddle looking down at her chest with a frown. She jumped, they bounced. She did it again, then clapped hands to her breasts to halt the motion, inadvertently drawing a gasp from her throat as skin came into contact with nipples and pressure was applied to breasts. Redness swam up into her cheeks and she looked up at Drystan with doe-wide eyes. "They feel nice," she said before coughing and raising her voice a bit, more in Dinah's register than Dorian's. Then of course Drystan's instructions registered and she turned around, looking at the room and finally spotting the bed. "Comfortable...?" she repeated uncertainly. But she moved to the bed nonetheless, clambering onto it still holding her breasts and just. Flopping down. And proceeding to roll and rub and stretch out on the sheets, clearly enjoying the way they felt on her skin. When she was done acclimating she was face - down and half-tangled in blanket, bare ass curved and pointed at the eldest Windgrace as she let out a veritable purr of satisfaction. "Sheets. They feel nice, so soft... never sleeping as bunny again, feels different through bunny fur!"
Drystan watched the bounce, and then the BOUNCE and then laughed at Hunter's expression upon grabbing their own tits. "Haha...yes..they do." He followed behind her as she flopped into the bed, doing a full on rut of the silk sheets. He had a somewhat permanent grin set upon his face, because he reveled in Hunter's exploration of things. It ticked a box in his head he was sure he knew of, but it was one of so many... "We will have to get you a set of silken sheets to curl up in. They are..quite luxurious." He stopped at the edge of the bed as she wound up half burrito-ed in blanket and sheets, ass pointed up at him. He pushed his thumbs into the waistband of his pajamas and pulled them down, stepping out of them. He pressed his lips together and reached out to touch her hip gently, sliding his fingertips and the tips of his claws down her thigh, "This..is different than good pain." He set his other hand on her other hip and parroted the action down the outside of her other thigh.
Hunter froze up entirely when he touched her hip. The gentle contact setting overactive, too-numerous nerve endings on fire. The draw of claws over her thigh sent her eyes rolling, her back arching in the embrace of the bed covers. Her skin, everywhere seemed entirely sensitive and when he repeated the movement she let out a whine, her knees drawing together to pull the softness of her thighs against the ache that grew between them. Too quickly her form was uncoiling, melting from within the wrap of blanket to reform in that feminine shape outside of it, nude and riled as she reached for Drystan's shoulders. Pulling him down atop her she grabbed for his hands, moving them to position each clawed grip over her breasts. "Again, do it again Drystan!" came tumbling out her lips, the breathy need in her voice making it sound at least half like a plea and half like a demand.
Drystan had her hands on him before he could even get his knee up on the bed, his hands pulled to her breasts as he half fell on top of her, pushing his weight up with his hands planted where she'd put them, shoving his knee between her legs and against the inside of her thigh, and the other followed suit. Now he could balance at least, "Okay..yes...of course..." He pulled his fingers together around her nipples to pinch at them and pull, before using his whole hand to knead at the supple gravity of her breasts. When he wasn't looking at her face directly, there was at least scars on the skin that made it unmistakable who he had his hand on. But that plus the abstract idea of it actually being Dinah, made his cock twitch and grow hard between them, a perhaps not so small secret that gave him pleasure all the same.
Hunter gasped when she felt his leg between her own. She was slick and warm against his knee, her hips rocking upwards to seek more delicious friction for the soft lips she'd formed where his legs met. She was so distracted by the attempt to rut and rock against his leg that she didn't at all realize he was doing something other than rake his claws down over her skin. The first pinch made her cry out, eyes opening wide and lips parting in surprised pleasure. Something garbled, a nonsensical burst from her lips but she corrected herself quickly. "Again - more - please - " she mewled, her own fingers digging into Drystan's shoulders, scouring into skin with scratching claws of her own.
Drystan felt the slick heat on his knee and let out a deep breath, letting his eyes go half-lidded as he went more on automatic than trying to explain with words anymore. He reached down with one hand and pulled her knees back and over his legs, so that she could wrap them around his middle. Then he drew that hand up between her legs, letting the length of his fingers and claws draw all the way up from the opening of her cunt to her clit, and back down, massaging the whole of her pussy with his hand, grabbing at her, letting his hand and fingers get slick. He let out a stifled groan as his head dipped and his mouth found her nipple and he opened wide, to suck as much as he could into his mouth, let his tongue flick and curl around the hardness of her nipple. His other hand slid behind her to the space the arch of her back made, splaying his fingers over the top crest of her ass.
Hunter seemed to understand, wrapping her legs around him and hooking her ankles together in a way that wasn't terribly possible for a typical human girl. He teased at her slit, her cilt and she arched her pelvis up to meet that touch, grinding into his hand as her eyes rolled back. "Nnnnhh... Drystan - feels good - there - THERE - AH!" Her torso writhed as he suckled on that sensitive nub, the nipple stiffening quickly under his attention. Wetness soaked the sheets beneath them as her body trembled in his grip. Hands raised to tangle in the mess of brown hair and hold him to her chest, not wanting to stop the sensation that made her clit all too receptive to the grinding of his other hand.
Drystan pushed into her slickness, and let his claws retract from that hand. Now his fingers could find and pinch at her clit, before moving down and gently pushing one digit inside of her. Not too far. He swallowed hard, at her nipple and flashes of time echoed upon each other. He and Dinah in another time, another age, hiding in a makeshift tent from summertime storms, on damp grass, her voice gasping his name. He moaned and pulled his hand away to stroke himself now with a slicked down hand, his cock entirely hard, the firm rigidity pushing it up onto his stomach where he left streaks of pre. He pulled his mouth away to find Hunter's mouth, to kiss them, to slide his tongue along pointed teeth. His voice spills into her mouth between gasps of breath, "I want inside of you, .."
Hunter cried out again as he plunged his fingers into her, tight wet walls clenching in around them, pulsing with the growing ache she felt in her oversensitive body. Her lips were parted when he kissed her, A hum of surprise sounding against the kiss. She did not so much know what to do as follow instinct to copy his movements, returning the kiss even as her hips kept rocking. There were no words the Eldritch spawn could offer in response to his desire. Instead inky black tendrils were flinging out to wrap around Drystan's waist, pulling him in against her body, daring him to follow through with his need.
He did not need much daring, so he used his hand to position himself so that the head of his cock would push nearly into her then slip up and mash into her clit, moving his hand back and forth so he could feel the underside bump along the shape of her, lips covered in spittle pull from her mouth as he looks down briefly, to watch the head of his cock push into her, and then further, before he let go of himself and grabbed her hip and pulled her into him, onto him. A long low moan escaped him and he was now pressed tightly up against her, both hands on her hips, slowly starting to rock himself.
Her movements stilled beneath him as the crown of his prick nearly gained entry. When it didn't, a groan of frustration issued from her throat and her hips rolled upward to hump at hand and dick together. "Drystan - '' she gasped, echoes of Drystan's recalled memories mimicked in that tone, as if Hunter had seen, or heard those fleeting recollections in the eldest Windgrace's mind. When Drystan's cock finally slid inside her she gasped, shuddering against his body. Hunter's hips moved fluidly to meet his, inky black tendrils coiling around his waist, his thighs and pulling to encourage more movement. He was warm on the inside, a tingle of a chill like an afterthought in the contact as a reminder of what it typically felt like being around him when he wasn't doing his best to mimic human physiology.
Drystan let out a deeply held breath and put his face to her shoulder when she spoke. It was eerie how much Hunter sounded like Dinah in his great mimicry. But he had never felt this, this was hundreds of years of want never fulfilled, finally in a twist. But it wasn’t her. He moaned into her shoulder as he pushed into her and she grappled him to pull him in harder and closer. He kept his eyes closed as heaps of blonde hair fell into his face. Hunter even smelled like her. “Fuck.” He could hardly make out words, but rushes of thoughts of all the ‘almosts’ and ‘not quite there’ and ‘only so far’ that had happened. How maddening it was to always be denied. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to focus on the feeling.
Connected as she often was to Dinah's mind the ability to copy her inflections, her voice was remarkable. Her expressions were borrowed from recent moments, upturned brows and parted lips from when the Eldritch spawn had seen her crying likely - not too dissimilar when it came down to it from what the human face did in moments of pleasure. "Yes- more- don't stop- " she moaned, her arms wrapping around his neck. Her body moved against his own in ways a human's couldn't, meeting each thrusts without the restriction of which muscles were connected to what bones. Around his cock the walls of her facsimile of a pussy tensed and pulsed around his, slick and warm and clinging. Every time those thrusts made her breasts bounce or her nipples graze the hard planes of his chest she let out another mewl as nerve endings fired off from the barrage of sensations.
“Oh Gods yes Dinah..” He held Hunter around her middle with one arm and leaned down to lay her back on the bed, and he could push into her from atop of her, his hand sliding up from her back to grab one wrist and throw it above her head, nearly off the bed, and hold it there while he bore into her, mouth again moving to her chest as they moved together in perfect sync. His mouth found her breast again and a wide opened mouth pulled and suckled before teeth pressed at her nipple as he bit down, hard enough that it would gain the ‘painful’ reaction, and waited to feel what her response to that would be.
Hunter quivered and in that moment, as she heard Dinah's name, seemed to understand the eldest sibling's desire. These were moments of lost time, pieces of what could have been that she was offering him in the now. As he laid her back against the bed she reached for him, body arching to meet his to reclaim the briefly lost contact in that movement. Her slender wrist did not so much fight against his own as shift and move in his grip from the writhings of her body. When he bit she jerked, a sharp gasp escaping her throat. The wet walls of her cunt spasmed and clenched around him in the throes of her first orgasm, silver eyes rolling from the pleasure that burned through her borrowed form in waves as she cried out his name.
When she clenched and called out his name, he had to hold himself deep into her, to keep from cumming right along with her. Good pain vs bad pain should be clear enough now, if just a nibble set her off into those delicious shaking waves. Gasping and using his blood like a cock ring he tightened the blood flow and staved himself off. He didn’t stop though, instead he pulled out of her and slid down her body to grab her legs around each side of his face, and dive his mouth into her, and to proceed to suck on her pussy, licking long wide laps against her, fucking her with his tongue while holding her in place no matter how she writhed. His eyes went to the back of his head as he drank from her like a man parched. He would suck on her clit only to bite at it and catch it between his teeth and race his tongue back and forth across it. He made deep grumbling moans into her, and gasped for breath.
Hunter was a quick study and despite his own lack of experience in such things he had clearly seen enough to be aware, or simply felt enough of Drystan's mind to realize how close he was. Hunter gave him a petulant little frown when he held himself back. She huffed and gripped at him as if to keep him inside her, prevent him from pulling out - only to eventually relent as the need to taste her broadcast itself in his mind. She spread her legs for him then, hooking them around his shoulders. Her hands reached for his hair, gripping and tugging until the relentless attention of teeth and tongue made coordinated movements impossible. "AH- Drystan! Please- WAIT- " it was nearly unbearable, new sensations making over-sensitized nerves scream. She squirted in his face as her pale legs locked in around his head and her hips surged upwards against his mouth.
/me had heard her, even though he was far too busy with a singular thought in mind to actually do as she had said. He didn’t wait and pushed harder, sucked on her harder, lapped his tongue faster till she released a deluge on his open mouth and he groaned and opened his mouth wide to lick and lap at her, to swallow every bit that came leaking from her cunt, his face was a terrible mess and he was loving every damned second of it. His mind had him convinced that this was just a light brush stroke of what being with Dinah would really be like. That this was how she tasted, this was how her body would be quivering for him. His cock was still hard as a rock and leaking, but he didn’t mind, he was savoring this, even as his mind wandered to who did get to relish in this. He who had tasted and was like her other half. Dorian. He loved his brother. But he was jealous. He was angry too that he was as spoiled as he was with her and he would treat her as he did. He lifted his head panting, trying to pull Hunter’s thighs from him so he could speak. “Turn over. Flat on your stomach.. And become as Dorian would be. Take his form.” He said it, commanded it, as he tossed and pulled Hunter to move to how he wanted.
Hunter let out another dismayed mewl when Drystan pulled away despite the plea for him to slow down only moments before. She panted and squirmed, even bent to start reaching for his cock until she heard his request - no, his demand. "Dorian...?" she repeated. This one the squiddle was less familiar with but Hunter followed orders all the same. The flesh rippled and swelled, breasts sinking into pecs, muscles firming up where softer skin had been. The lengthy hair became shorter curls that flipped up at the ends. It was work for Hunter to mimic Dorian's face. Even in his typical masculine form it usually looked a bit more like Dinah's but he did try, squaring out the jaw, tweaking the eyes. It was imperfect but bent over with his back and ass to Drystan on the bed, it was difficult to tell. And Dorian's voice he knew well enough. "Is this how you want me, Drystan?" he asked, the final bit of his new shape falling into place as his clit became a thick, throbbing cock slick with the fluids that had wet his cunt.
Drytan sat back as he morphed, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, running his claws through his hair, licking his chops. Hunter did his best and was turned with his back and ass to him, looking up to see his cock form, and the deeper pitch of his brother's more antiquated English compared to Dinah’s. He sat up on his knees and lifted his hand to bring it down, slapping Hunter’s ass hard enough to leave a bright red outline of his hand and claws. “Flat.” He reached forwards and shoved Hunter’s back down so he was pinned down to the bed. He crawled on top of him and straddled his ass, slipping his hand from his back up to the back of his neck, coiling at the back of his hair and pulling up against it, so that he could speak into Hunter’s ear. “Yes…as Dorian. Men feel pleasure in different ways. You want to feel how I feel when I experience pleasure, don’t you? This is the lesson, isn’t it?” he let go of his blonde curls and settled himself in behind Hunter’s ass, spreading him apart before leaning forward and spitting a great wad of saliva and Hunter’s cum he’d lapped up, squarely onto his ass. “Don’t turn around and look at me.” Was all else he had to say as he mashed his thumb minus claw into Hunter's tight ass.
Hunter cried out, another noise pulled from memory. Perhaps it was their struggle with the Hounds and a moment of Dorian being caught by a bite or a claw, but it was a mimicked cry of pain tinged with Hunter's own pleasure. He flattened his chest and face to the bed, a muffled noise issuing against the covers in response to Drystan's inquiry. The pull at his 'hair' - so much more innervated by nerves than human hair would be - tugged a gasp from his throat and he whined, his cock throbbing as it hung between his legs. "Y-Yes brother- " came the whispered voice before his face planted into the sheets again. Even the thumb was more than he'd ever experienced, a different set of nerves, a different hole so much tighter than the other squeezing down around the thick digit as he pushed against his ass. He didn't know to relax... then again he was a bit more flexible, more resilient to tearing than a normal human might be. Drystan's thumb slipped in slicked by the spit and cum and Hunter moaned, rocking back against it.
“Good lad,”...Drystan worked his thumb in and out of him, pushing the slick into his ass, before hooking it inside and pulling upwards, slowly stretching him. “Just give into it, I’d like to keep my cock attached to my body please.” As he said this he shuffled on his knees to push the tip of his cock to his ass, to slide his hand up and down before trying to ease the head inside of him. He worked his hips forward and back, applying harder pressure each time. His breathing was labored, catching and getting caught in his throat everytime the head of his cock would get pinched into his hole. FInally satisfied he was in, he put both hands on the back of Hunter, just under his shoulder blades and used him as leverage to lean up and forward, to push himself into him.
Hunter loosened with some effort as Hunter acclimated to the sensation and relaxed into the pleasure of being stretched and prepped. He moaned into the sheets when Drystan finally eased inside him, a shudder running through his body. There was no sting for the squiddle, no burn as the thick intrusion of Drystan's dick spread him open - it was wholly overindulgent pleasure as that thick length took him, making a moan vibrate out against the sheets. Hunter squirmed beneath the weight of Drystan's. His hips pushed back to take him deeper, his bottom half moving to rock back against Drystan's hips even as the elder Windgrace's hands kept his upper back pinned. "Thrust - move - please!" he whined out against the bed, desire and hunger for more of the delicious sensation of being fucked into the mattress rippling from his mind into Drystan's own.
Drystan felt an odd sensation, it wasn't like deja vu, but it was still a bit dizzying in its own way. He pushed in deeper, till his balls were pressed against skin, before pulling back out and pushing in again. He was repeating what he’d just pictured in his mind…though it was what he had intended to do. He ticked his head to the side and closed his eyes, popping his hips back and forth as he fucked Dorian’s form. His mind was far more open to Hunter than he even understood, so when he imagined the fights the brothers had, then the waves of pleasure swam up into his guts, it mingled into a fraught confusion. Oh he loved hearing his brother make those sounds, so he reached forward and grabbed his shoulders, and dug his claws into pearl white flesh.
Hunter saw the memories of those fights swim into his mind's eyes and reached out to connect to them, intermingling the expressions of hurt and anguish, the irritated repartes from Dorian with the gasps and cries of his own, present form as if to muddle the memories with what they experienced in the now. <Is this what you do with that blackguard!?> slipped telepathically into his mind, as if a piece of their arguments had been tainted by the feeling of Stan's dick spearing deep into his insides. Hunter cried out at the feeling of claws in his flesh, blood running black from torn skin and painting lines down his back. Despite the wounds he wrenched and rocked and bucked himself back against Drystan's hips, moaning wildly as the pain made his cock jump and leak. An inky black tendril whipped up in retaliation, smacking Drystan across the face as if to mirror an escalation of the brothers' prior fights into physical blows.
Drystan growled deeply as he heard the exclamations of his brother. But this was Hunter. It was not Dorian, he would not do this with DOrian, unless Dorian showed interest, not just the brotherly things that happen between boys when they are younger, and not in anger, but those words, ..then the smack to his face from a random tendril. “Oi! Fuckin’ yeah you wish you knew what we got up to eh? So you could hate a bit more? Eh?” He pulled a hand into his hair again and lifted his head by the roots, spitting as he talked, sweat beading up and down his body. “Don’t worry about anyone else’s pricks but yer’own, cause the way you playin’ it you’ll never feel Dinah’s cunt again, and He’ll be all up inside it.” He smacked the back of Hunter's head down to smother him in the sheets, while reaching around him to grab hold of Hunter’s cock, squeezing and pulling at it roughly.
Hunter yelped at the sudden intensity, keening noises stumbling from his throat as Drystan yanked at his hair, fucking him hard into the sheets before he finished those spat statements with a rough push of his face into the mattress. Whatever Hunter's response was, was muffled, heated but horny and wet with his own spit until the tug to his stiff and leaking cock turned his voice into a whine. Hunter enjoyed the pain, the roughness - the tendrils lashed at Drystan again, scoring cuts across his chest, across his cheeks. The squiddle didn't care that they were likely to heal again. Then Drystan said those words, mentioned Dinah, mentioned Niles - and like a flash images came to Drystan at a fever-pitch. Heated flesh, soft skin and curves, someone entwined with his sister in a heated embrace, the image of something carved into her abdomen and glowing like a fresh brand. Drystan felt the swell of an orgasm as if it were his own, coupled with the knowledge that it must not be, could not be - then the overwhelming sensation of cum flooding her cunt and something burgeoning in that joining. In the real world Hunter cried out against the sheets, his ass clenching hard around Drystan to milk his cock as Dorian's voice cried out in ecstasy.
Bright blood wept from the slashes across his chest and cheeks, leaving long gashes open. They did start to heal and close fairly quickly, but it was those flashes of pain that drove Drystan to pile into him harder, to thrash his claws across Hunter’s back, and dig into his side, to let go of his cock and grab at Hunter’s soft underbelly, digging his claws in, like so many times he’d done before, to disembowel. But crashing through his mind was a vision, it threw him off balance, made the rhythm of his hips halt. His head tipped back as his wet hair dripped onto his back behind him, eyes shut but his third eye wide open. The image of the carving in the mound of her pussy, the overwhelming swell of orgasm taking him over, stiffening his whole body as he came deeply into Hunter’s ass, the same moment his sister did in the vision, a blinding light coming from that action, a chaotic creation. Drystan heaved himself forward and thrust into Hunter at a fevered pace, shoving him full of cum, near screaming at Hunter to cum as well, the claws on his belly forgotten and on his hips now, “Cum for me you little shit! Fucking cum!” The fever the vision had given him made him shake all over for how real it felt.
Hunter screamed his name as Drystan gouged into his flesh and in the throes of ecstasy and telepathic connection that blood drifted upward instead of dripping, seeming to drift into the air to swirl around them in a nebula of inky-black ribbons. Hunter's body spasmed, pulsing to milk every drop of that load from Drystan's dick, his skin seeming to warm and flush with the sensation of being filled so completely, taken so deeply. The squiddle was confused briefly by the vision he shared and as Drystan plunged deeply into him he felt the pop of his cock forcing through a cervix, the pain of a bottomed-out cock forcing another scream from the Eldritch spawn. He came hard, his own dick painting the sheets with spatters of seed until the orgasm left him panting and quivering, still bleeding that black blood from his wounds. There were no intestines that drooped from the gash in his abdomen - it was simply a gash into a churning black mass of tendrils.
Falling forward onto Hunter, he left his cock buried there, twitching and pulsing as he gasped for breath, his body slick against Hunter’s, a mix of sweat and blood and black ichor and cum. He panted hard, trying to catch his breath, trying to slow his racing heart. His third eye had closed but his blue eyes were wide open, as he pushed the butt of his palm into one of them to try and get the sweat from it. He hardly had words, but instead he just thought about what he wanted to say, preparing to say it when he had slicked his throat with saliva and could finally speak. He thought that he was so proud of Hunter, that Hunter had adapted and learned so quickly that he had even picked up on how to inflict that pain back. A smile spread across his face as he just buried it into Hunter’s side as he slid off him and out of him to the side. Goosebumps broke out across his flesh and he shivered while twitching in the aftermath.
Hunter seemed pleased amid the ripples of pleasure and overwhelming satisfaction. Dorian's form crumpled onto the bed next to Drystan into the mess of cum and black blood. He stopped breathing like a human might, the black tendrils weaving around his form as a measure of self-preservation as he worked to heal himself. Tentatively one hand reached out and slid up the midline of Drystan's body, eventually resting on his face. < Drystan has shown me many things. Time to show him what he's missing, > spoke the squiddle's voice in his head. Drystan only had a moment or two to either dissuade Hunter from starting so quickly after they'd finished or simply let him keep going.
Drystan laid there next to him in a heap, his wounds closed, and only the stains of blood on him left behind, with all the other bodily fluids. He watched as Hunter tended to himself, a happy little half smile on his face, ..he’d not hurt him nearly at all and he could recover from this. As the hand slid up his middle, he finally hoarse out a simple “Yes..please..” He didn’t care what form Hunter took then, though perhaps preferably human, and let his half lidded eyes close entirely.
Hunter did not change his shape. He might have been too tired to, or simply wanted to revel in the emotional high that Dorian's form had caused. Fingers became tendrils that snuck around Drystan's head before sliding into his ears, his eyes, his nose, reaching deep until they touched his brain and solid connection gave way to a spiraling galaxy of stars and sparking neural connections. The most recent moments replayed before time sped up in the memorial rewind as Hunter went back, searching for the gaps that he needed to fill again. <Show me, Drystan,> whispered the squiddle's voice amid the muted noise of Drystan's memories.
His eyes flared open when the tendrils of black began to slide into his sockets, his ears popping and eardrums bursting, his sinus cavity filled with writhing black till they all worked its way into and made contact with his brain. He suddenly saw stars and constellations he did not recognize, and flashes of things opened and closed in his mind. He could hear Hunter, and tried…thinking back to the fight with the Tindalos. Of the things siphoning off his life and memories after he’d been struck in the leg and having time shattered into tiny splinters. Hundreds of years of work perfecting wards to be near invisible to the eye, he nearly compared to Dinah’s work, but not quite up to her snuff. All of it rushing away from him as the hound tried to rip Drystan out of time and back where he belonged.
Hunter had not been present at the time but in the memory as it was recalled he stood in the shadows, watching as the Hounds tore at those memories. Black ooze streaked through the grass of the wooded clearing and into the maw of the Hounds, diving down rancid, fleshy throats into pathways of endless flesh. Drystan's memories floated in little wisps of noise and static and one by one Hunter took them, subsuming them into his mass to pump them back into the brain he was connected to. It felt like fluid, like swelling - painful and cold at once, the scent of menthol and smoke filling the eldest Windgrace's nostrils as his mind was pieced back together. It was not a slow process. It was quick, rattling, nauseatingly fast - everything coming in a blur just as it had been taken from him.
/me choked as it was replaced, on the smell, on the rapid pace of information being shoved back into his brain where it used to be. He gagged on the tendrils in his nose and tried to not blink against the ones in his eyes, but tears flooded down his face as his body curled into itself in some effort to try and protect himself, entirely not a conscious movement. But though he gagged and gasped for breath and was reeling, he balled his hands into fists, sinking his own claws into his palms, which brought a searing white pain to his mind as well and tethered him to the present so he would not be lost in the flow of information.
Hunter held onto the body curled against his own, keeping Drystan close to him as he worked to knit the threads of his mind back together. When he was finished the tendrils withdrew just as quickly, yanking back and out and withdrawing into Hunter's form to a shudder and a hum of satisfaction. He was throbbing, hard again from the experience and he leaned down and licked a swath up the tears streaming down Drystan's face. "Do you remember now?" he asked quietly, still Dorian's voice, if a bit more hoarse from the efforts.
Drystan blinked and coughed and then pulled his claws from his fist, and let them sheath back into his hands entirely. The wounds closed and he was able to wipe his face with the back of a hand. He looked at Hunter, or..Dorian Hunter, and searched his mind. If he had wanted to ward the tunnels further, ….he smiled. He knew precisely how to do it, as if he’d never lost the memories at all. “I do…thank you.” He murmured. He saw that Hunter was hard again, and sort of scoffed to himself. “And now you understand what good pain, pleasure…is like.”
Hunter watched him, reflecting his smile in a grin that was entirely his own, shark-like teeth and wide-spread giddiness entirely endemic to the squiddle and his progenitor. "Good. Thank YOU, Drystan," he said and giggled a little. The statement about pain though had him huffing. He pushed himself up off the bed and stared at Drystan with narrowed eyes. "ALL good pain," he insisted. "Only... other things, that are also good. But the pain. The pain is also... all good. Claws. Teeth." His hands melted into a little mass of black tendrils before forming into claws like the ones Drystan had recently sheathed. "Can tear you open next time. If you like that pain."
“You are unique in that all pain is good pain for you, you’re fortunate.” He watched as the giggling squiddle pushed himself up and made claws like his own. “Next time? Hmm…” He pondered that for a moment. “Yes, perhaps next time. I like that pain…just in a different way than you do. And that is fine. Juuuust fine.” He leaned back and let his head plop on the bed. “Probably best to not tell Dinah or Dorian about this though, they might not like that I asked you to look like them, or that I've taught you something new.” Oh gods, a horny Hunter. He explained further, “Unfortunately, most men are unable to climax more than once, maybe twice. I know some tricks but just so that you know, I am still bound by my human failings.”
Hunter nodded vigorously. "All. All physical. Like gnaiih yar. Parts... of my lloig. Mind. Is the same." He wriggled himself up against Drystan, crawling atop him and simply laying there on him, messy skin against his own, open coils of black tendrils in his abdomen against his skin. "Recover later. Do you like to feel it, Drystan?" asked the squiddle, a hard cock and several tendrils rubbing against the eldest sibling's bod. He'd awoken something indeed... and Hunter seemed either entirely quick to recuperate or entirely insatiable.
Drystan huffed as Hunter crawled on top of him, and nodded slowly. “I do like to feel it. Very much so, all of it and then some. Just..recover later hm?” He scoffed and blinked up at Hunter’s wide smile. “You feel amazing. DIfferent..but good. You imitate humans quite well.” His own cock tingled and throbbed gently against the pressure of Hunter’s body on him, despite how tired he was. “You know you can give this pleasure to yourself as well, touching all the right parts, using your mind to imagine whatever you’d like to make it all the better.”
Hunter set his chin on Drystan's shoulder. Rather than a hum, as a human might do, a chittering sort of grumble sounded in his throat. "Pleasure myself. But more fun with another," he answered and opened up to bite Drystan's shoulder, just enough to taste his blood - but there was some form of restraint there, another remnant of his mimicry of the twins. He let go before taking a chunk, instead settling in against Drystan's back to lick at the blood, sinuous tongue winding against his ear. "You recover. I'll... pleasure myself," he murmured, tendrils reaching to spread Drystan's cheeks as others entwined about his torso. intent on keeping him locked in an embrace until the Eldritch spawn was sated.