primal au smut im so so sorry
When Yda saw Papalymo again, she attacked him. She wanted to forget and she wanted the pain to stop. He was ready for her and threw up his staff to block her fists; air rushing around them. She met his eyes and they were still wrong but so where hers. A wrong and solid green. Neither looked away but Yda sensed the magic gathering around him. She rolled to the side, barely dodging the lightning strike before dashing back towards him. He ducked between her legs, letting lose another spell. She lifted her leg to bring it down upon him, letting the spell hit her with a hiss. Papalymo spun but not fast enough and Yda's leg clipped his shoulder, taking him down. She reeled her arm back as if to hit him but instead grabbed his collar and hoisted him up.
"You...you're supposed to be dead," she whispered, her body shaking. She didn't want to remember him. It hurt. Papalymo opened his mouth to speak but then Yda is kissing him. Her thumb pushed against his neck so she could feel his heart pound and her teeth biting his lip so she could taste blood. Papalymo gasped, digging his nails into her back and giving her hair a sharp tug.
"Funny thing about death..." Papalymo panted, pulling his mouth away from hers to lean down and bite her neck, "'Tis not as permanent as we seem to think..." His nails left raised red lines in their wake as he clawed at her back. Yda hissed, sitting down heavily and pulling him into her lap. Her hands ripped open his robes so she could return the favor of leaving scratches down his back.
"Do you think maybe it would have been better if it was?" She growled, kissing him again, her tongue pushing into his mouth and her hands pushing his robes from his shoulders. She tasted blood and wasn't sure if it was hers or his. It made her dizzy. He shuddered, grabbing her wrists quickly and pushing her back. He straddled her chest, breaking the kiss to run his fingers over her scarred arm. His touch was hard — angry.
"Perhaps..." he murmured as he traced her scars, pressure and nails drawing a gasp from her bloodstained lips. She was beautiful, feathers poking from her skin and body arced up into him. Death was a mercy, a slight taste of freedom from this world where he heard nothing but voices and the pull to return. Maybe he missed it but he missed Yda more. The tips of his fingers were electrified and her hips rolled at the feeling — welcoming the slight pain. It was a feeling and she had been numb for much too long.
Yda flipped them over suddenly, pushing his robes completely off as she leaned over him. She dragged her tongue down his neck, fingers digging into his ribs. She was not soft, not kind and he didn't want her to be. She left marks down his neck and across his collarbone until she got to the puckered scar at the center of his chest. She paused, hesitantly. She touched it sadly, memorizing the texture. She remembered the feel of the steel in her hand that caused; how easy it was to take lives. She placed a small kiss to the deepest part, where the blade slipped past a rib and into his chest cavity. A strangely tender moment and they both hated it. That wasn't them anymore.
Papalymo fisted his hand into her hair, forcing her back up to kiss him. He bit her lip, hands darting under her shirt to cup her breast. He pinched her nipple and she bucked her hips with a deep growl. The air around him sparked and he rolled them over again so that he was back on top, breaking the kiss to lower his mouth to her chest. He bit her nipple, sucking it into his mouth until it was red and swollen and then moved to the other. He dug his nails into her hips to keep her from moving, leaving red crescents in his wake. The air around them was charged with static and every feeling of pain left her breathless. She hated him, hated herself and hated what they had both become. She pushed a hand between them and into his pants, gripping his erection tightly and pumping her fist against him.
Papalymo groaned, running his teeth across her nipple before he pulled down her pants. He rubbed her clit and she arched her back, stroking him faster. He managed to wiggle out of his pants and slip between he legs, lining himself up with her. He grabbed her leg, bruises blooming under his fingertips, as he slowly entered her. He growled at the feeling and quickly set up the pace of his thrusts as fast and sharp. Yda clawed at his back, blood under her nails, as she held him close. His name was on her lips and suddenly she elbowed him in the side. He grunted, magic arcing off him as she flipped their positions, climbing on top of him. She continued the pace he had set, moving herself against him sharply while she leaned down to graze her teeth against his ear. He gripped her hips, encouraging her fast thrusts.
It was no surprise to either of them how fast they could feel themselves approaching their climax. Yda leaned in, sinking her teeth into Papalymo's shoulder. He threw his head back, electricity arcing off of him as he felt her clench around him.
"Yda..." he hissed, his vision blurring. He missed her so much; he missed what they had and what they were.
But that wasn't them anymore.
It's a jerk — Yda nearly falls out of her bed. Her head hurts and her body aches. And she is alone with nothing but her nightmares and the knowledge that Papalymo is gone and she is gone. They is no Yda and no Papalymo and there is no them. There is relief there, though, in knowing that Papalymo will never see what she has become. She runs a shaking hand through her hair, her hands brushing against the feathers just under her skin. They itch. She pulls her knees up to her chest and glances out the window. It's raining.
