[He kisses his temple, his cheek, his gasping lips, taking in those whimpers. Holding Hades in invisible hands, stroking his back and hair, arms still buried deep in him, never letting go of his core.
He's trembling himself just slightly, there's a deep pleasure in touching Hades this way. In drawing out such wrecked reactions.]
I am far from finished with you my love.
[His voice could not be more fond or filled with love. He could not possibly pour more affection into Hades's soul than he is offering right now.
Those invisible hands pull Hades back just enough for Lahabrea to kiss his chest. Pulling his aetheric hands out, near the surface of his soul and form, still cupping the core of Hades. Gentle, careful, keeping him firmly within the aura of soul. Where nothing could possibly damage him, where he is not untethered from himself. But where Lahabrea can kiss him, physically, with his soul, lips to his core, still holding him caged in his palms and talons.]
[He would like to bask in it for a few eons, he thinks. Lahabrea's soul. Even though his mind is scattered and it is far, far, far too much, he can still appreciate its warmth, its fire, its tenderness.
That is, until begins to tug his own soul to the surface. After all, what is healthy coping but burying trauma deep inside hopefully for it to never surface again?
He can barely handle people touching his death scar, the physical proof of his most dire failure. And even though he is gentle, even though he is careful, even though he is full of love and adoration.
He can't.
All he can feel, all he can imagine is all the Light of the First tearing through him. Chunks of auracite trying to pull at his soul to bind him. And then that terrible moment where he had to give into both and felt the threads of his own soul unravel through his fingers. Of it being torn out of him.
Tears fill his eyes and cold, acidic fear begins to taint Lahabrea's fingers buried deep within him.]
[That will not do. Of course he stops pulling, fingers closing closer around Emet, blazing and protective.
He lifts the other man with invisible hands of aether, pushes him down in the pillows while still half buried on his soul, not a bit disentangling as he leans over him, pinning him.
He will kiss the tears on his cheeks and pour half his own soul into Emet, full of fire and darkness, blazing and warming and chasing the cold fear--not to eradicate it but to soothe and comfort, to give ease rather than to destroy the emotion. He is gentle. And he is forceful. And he does not let go of Hades's core even a little, though he keeps it cupped and safely deep in him, not trying to draw his soul's essence out, instead holding him shielded in his palms.]
Shh. Fear not. My beatiful Hades. No harm shall befall you within my hold.
[His breathing evens out as much as it can given the situation as he's laid down, covered and protected. He brings both of his hands to the back of Lahabrea's neck so he can hold him close.
And finally, finally it looks like he'll have time to get his wits around him so he's not simply reactive.
....And then there is the soul pouring. Perhaps not.
He gives out a sharp hiss of pleasure as the fear melts away. And he's so tired and boneless at this point that there is no resistance. He lets him take and find space in as much of his soul as Lahabrea desires. He practically just gives it to him.
And now that Lahabrea has taken residence he'll feel his love for him, his joy, his concern, his fear, and guilt and self-revulsion and mourning and exhaustion.... the list goes on. Can he really tell Hades' emotions separate from his own at this point?]
[It might be a little difficult to untangle but he tries mainly just to fill him and hold, soothe the fears and the guilt, cradle the self-revulsion, the trauma, the worries, accepting all of it without judgment or flinching. Spreading fire through every crack and corner of Hades, blanketing and filling him with love and protectiveness.
He strokea his core again, just the gentlest touch of fingers, not concentration there to overwhelm as before, simply adding that to his show of affection.]
[He is soothed. He always is in Lahabrea's presence. Though even moreso as he coated in his soul.
He's panting underneath him and he opens his eyes which doesn't remember exactly when he squeezed them shut. He's exhausted so he doesn't respond physically, but he does respond aetherically. Without hindering Lahabrea's movements he clasps the fingers, the talons around his own core just lightly coating them in his color.]
[There is a smile, felt in his soul, but really all he does is keep soothing, petting and holding and gathering Hades against him.
And very gently he probes deeper. Not to unlock or lay bear trauma, simply sinking warmth into him, into his core, into every scrap of his soul. Reassurance. Gentle comfort. Trying to reach those things that need it most.]
[He whispers his name softly letting his eyes fall back shut.]
Were we not supposed to soothe each other. Together. I don't believe I can keep up.
[Throwing his aether around him like a net and tugging him down flush to him physically. He'll let Lahabrea control the pace of intimacy with their souls.]
[He kisses Emet's jaw and lips lightly as he's pulled down, fingers stroking through his soul at a leisurely pace now.]
You say as if I am not soothed holding you thus. To have you here in my hands is more relief and comfort than words can express.
[Though he does try to share that feeling, the peacefulness just holding Emet brings, to share the truth of it, show that it is not empty words but true relief.]
[Slipping his arms around his waist bonelessly. Basking in that.]
I know. I know it does.
But I know your soul aches as well.
[He can't do any more than lazyily brush against him with his aether having been too spent with the kindness murder Lahabrea enacted earlier. So it is simply slow and lazy and tired touches but they do not lack in their own adoration or affection.]
And what exactly were you planning before my stamina ran out?
[Sometimes you must simply murder a man you love and enjoy every moment of it. He keeps up the gentle caresses in turn, humming softly. Mischief in his soul with the fondness.]
There are matters we've both pushed aside. Too busy and too afraid to deal with. I can still feel it, aether, my aether slipping through my fingers. I will never be able to forget it.
[But he pulls them out, infinitely careful, gentle, not leaning any damage in his wake, retrieving his own fire but urging Hades to come along, to flow into him.]
[He does sink in. Letting his form fall away to simply rest within Lahabrea's soul. It's not a merge, but he does feel as if he's a float in a warm sea. And he wants nothing more than exactly that at this moment.]
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Re: Day 296
He's trembling himself just slightly, there's a deep pleasure in touching Hades this way. In drawing out such wrecked reactions.]
[His voice could not be more fond or filled with love. He could not possibly pour more affection into Hades's soul than he is offering right now.
Those invisible hands pull Hades back just enough for Lahabrea to kiss his chest. Pulling his aetheric hands out, near the surface of his soul and form, still cupping the core of Hades. Gentle, careful, keeping him firmly within the aura of soul. Where nothing could possibly damage him, where he is not untethered from himself. But where Lahabrea can kiss him, physically, with his soul, lips to his core, still holding him caged in his palms and talons.]
Re: Day 296
That is, until begins to tug his own soul to the surface. After all, what is healthy coping but burying trauma deep inside hopefully for it to never surface again?
He can barely handle people touching his death scar, the physical proof of his most dire failure. And even though he is gentle, even though he is careful, even though he is full of love and adoration.
He can't.
All he can feel, all he can imagine is all the Light of the First tearing through him. Chunks of auracite trying to pull at his soul to bind him. And then that terrible moment where he had to give into both and felt the threads of his own soul unravel through his fingers. Of it being torn out of him.
Tears fill his eyes and cold, acidic fear begins to taint Lahabrea's fingers buried deep within him.]
Re: Day 296
He lifts the other man with invisible hands of aether, pushes him down in the pillows while still half buried on his soul, not a bit disentangling as he leans over him, pinning him.
He will kiss the tears on his cheeks and pour half his own soul into Emet, full of fire and darkness, blazing and warming and chasing the cold fear--not to eradicate it but to soothe and comfort, to give ease rather than to destroy the emotion. He is gentle. And he is forceful. And he does not let go of Hades's core even a little, though he keeps it cupped and safely deep in him, not trying to draw his soul's essence out, instead holding him shielded in his palms.]
Re: Day 296
And finally, finally it looks like he'll have time to get his wits around him so he's not simply reactive.
....And then there is the soul pouring. Perhaps not.
He gives out a sharp hiss of pleasure as the fear melts away. And he's so tired and boneless at this point that there is no resistance. He lets him take and find space in as much of his soul as Lahabrea desires. He practically just gives it to him.
And now that Lahabrea has taken residence he'll feel his love for him, his joy, his concern, his fear, and guilt and self-revulsion and mourning and exhaustion.... the list goes on. Can he really tell Hades' emotions separate from his own at this point?]
Re: Day 296
He strokea his core again, just the gentlest touch of fingers, not concentration there to overwhelm as before, simply adding that to his show of affection.]
Re: Day 296
He's panting underneath him and he opens his eyes which doesn't remember exactly when he squeezed them shut. He's exhausted so he doesn't respond physically, but he does respond aetherically. Without hindering Lahabrea's movements he clasps the fingers, the talons around his own core just lightly coating them in his color.]
Re: Day 296
And very gently he probes deeper. Not to unlock or lay bear trauma, simply sinking warmth into him, into his core, into every scrap of his soul. Reassurance. Gentle comfort. Trying to reach those things that need it most.]
Re: Day 296
[Throwing his aether around him like a net and tugging him down flush to him physically. He'll let Lahabrea control the pace of intimacy with their souls.]
Re: Day 296
[Though he does try to share that feeling, the peacefulness just holding Emet brings, to share the truth of it, show that it is not empty words but true relief.]
Re: Day 296
But I know your soul aches as well.
[He can't do any more than lazyily brush against him with his aether having been too spent with the kindness murder Lahabrea enacted earlier. So it is simply slow and lazy and tired touches but they do not lack in their own adoration or affection.]
Re: Day 296
Re: Day 296
[And he can't find the words so he just holds him.]
Re: Day 296
[Gentle, probing. He is patient, but curious.]
Re: Day 296
Re: Day 296
But if I may soothe you, help you, ease you, tell me. Ask me. Let me. Only when you wish. Only if you are ready.
Re: Day 296
[He pushes with his soul asking for entry.]
Re: Day 296
Re: Day 296
Re: Day 296
[But he pulls them out, infinitely careful, gentle, not leaning any damage in his wake, retrieving his own fire but urging Hades to come along, to flow into him.]
Re: Day 296
[He does sink in. Letting his form fall away to simply rest within Lahabrea's soul. It's not a merge, but he does feel as if he's a float in a warm sea. And he wants nothing more than exactly that at this moment.]
Re: Day 296
[He is protective, and gentle. Keeping Hades held within himself with all his love, happy to cradle him gently for all the night.]
Re: Day 296
Thank you, my love.
[And he does curl up within Lahabrea's soul, petting it, but nestling down to rest.]
Re: Day 296
[He is rather content having Hades curled in his soul, like a cat on his chest, something to hold gently and pet and keep cozy.]