The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'

"We could kiss for hours again in any storage building in the city if you’d like~"

Fingers mischievously beckoned after her voice did the same. A smile spread, joined by her head tilting around merrily and smugly... eventually pivoting to impatiently settling one hand on her own hip and swaying them. Elua could quite sincerely feel through their continued spiritual dialogue - if one wanted to be polite about the description - that every small action she took was a significant ’temptation’ to the woman.

So was nearly every other word spoken in her carefully trained voice. A quality which had never been talked about ahead of time with her husband-wife, unlike the long ago picking of box-checking sexy appearances. Yet the new refined timbre and old cadence, emotive inflections and perfect sultry breath support... still managed to absolutely curl right around some part of the swordswoman’s lower brain.

’Like a lullaby and a wardrum all at once. Both of which make me want to hug her tight.’

One who used to barely feel a thing that might be called a ’want’ in her youth. Compared to half-brother’s that identified the brunette as a Small Sword-Demon, Qatrand only saw a Full-Grown Fairy that needed caged and claimed before others captured her. Awareness that she would turn into an Ogre the instant anyone other than she tried that... didn’t lessen the call to act. And she in fact did take a step forward and grip her troublemaker’s forehead.

"Mm..n..."

The reincarnator also knew that what they were doing right now, that what made the blonde’s cheeks flush and that sound escape the strong cultivator’s throat... was beyond questionable! A highly spiritually trained outsider might sense what they were doing as something a lot more like... wrestling each other with their souls. Which had *exactly* the sort of naughty connotations as two lovers being caught ’wrestling’ anywhere else did!

The pair had long passed something she - and those great spiritualists that she actually ’respected’ as Uvraneht - had quaintly labeled: Phantasmic Foreplay. But both of them knew that the whole of Elua’s intent was not *just* that sort of incorporeal indecorum. Even if one of them was really thinking of that particular kinky label once jokingly explained to her... as Qat made yet another low and breathy tone of noise.

"Huu..."

Hearing it both sharpened and dispersed the small cultivator’s thoughts all at once. Getting a gauge for the truest feelings each possessed in the moment, something that risked supplanting or crushing what existed in the other if they didn’t act with care. An amorphous shape of space formed between their spirits that informed when to back away, when to go full steam ahead, and both paid extra care to point to the admittedly *limited* number of boundaries with each other.

Somehow deepening... or perhaps widening a kind of ’trust’. One that was already close to bottomless between the two women. And making the ancient soul feel quite romantically poetic while breathing out her own audible notes.

’Oh, Qat... your firm consent and dense acceptance has always been this black hole. One whose event horizon I’ve enjoyed being dragged toward. I’m sure, no matter what, we were meant to be together. So that I could see what is on the other side... of being suddenly, gently ripped to tender pieces! All guarded and consumed at once by someone like you... ah~’

Her spirit simplified the deep string of thoughts, that were shifting to more lurid metaphors, into a cloud of hot ’affection’ and ’attachment’ that curved and spiraled like a storm around her obsessively loved, Gravity-Anchor-Cynosure-’Fortress’. That Aligned Trinity which made her precious gem someone... she could see making it to the peak again with. Someone who would eventually become a Divinity, even should Elua herself fail again...

’I’m just so pleased I was able to circle her this long without ruining things~ How happy will I even be in a month of being completely together? A year from now? Five centuries with half a dozen children?!’

Though she had no belief in her heart that such drastic catastrophe awaited again. Not as long as her beloved actually wanted her to follow alongside her climb up the path. As long as she was cherished forever. Judging from Qat’s practically intoxicated feeling from their intense connecting... she was at least about to be very well adored and indulged in some ways, indeed!

"Storage... where is a storage building again?"

"Oh, I was joking, dear. After all, this time we do have our little house available in the city. Very private if I activate every ritual. No sneaking around and risking getting caught needed."

One hand reaching up and petting the wrist of the sword-swing calloused hand pressing down on her, one mint eye peeked around the side of that hold and crinkled with great glee.

"Though some haste there, before slowing down and taking our time... would be lovely, my ’fortress’~"

The blonde closed her eyes and breathed deeply, before swallowing extra dryly at the beautiful sing-song *cornering*. A ’request’ in that voice that amounted to a barely malleable *order* to the nearly molten feeling cultivator. She had really thought she would have some more time to get used to the idea after seeing her again.

In that sort of experience... they would talk for a bit, probably share a good meal... since the food in the Exclave was apparently terrible, and then *gradually* realize that they had both changed but hadn’t grown apart. Feeling each other out slowly like in the books Klaytei had flagged as ’most realistic’, not collapsed all of that into so few, deeply intense minutes!

Her wife was obviously a grown woman just like herself. And obviously knew what she wanted and how to get it - whether she had to fight fair or unfair. All the tall, muscular twenty-one year old could think to do was to kneel down and surrender her back to the victorious wolf... the one in her own heart.

"Get on again, then. If we’re going home, we go together. By choice. Not with me dragging you away because you made me."

Her smaller wife didn’t have to be told twice... though she felt that this plan developed by the flustered blonde had a number of obvious flaws that she would critique with gusto. She didn’t aim for sitting on her shoulders this time, but to ride piggyback like what felt long ago.

Hands slid to secure herself across the Hero of the Last Descent’s pectorals, a position she could press and relentlessly maneuver her own chest on her husband-wife’s upper back... to the point it could *not* be ignored for either of them. Where she could tighten her much *less* stick-like thighs from adolescence onto her beloved’s waist.

Rounded and toned now, the well-trained swordswoman let out another sharp and hot breath - just like she was performing a breakfall - the moment they latched on. Yet another exhale when bringing her arms down to secure thighs that probably needed no help to stay physically attached.

They also *definitely* didn’t need to wriggle around in her hold with laughter in the manner they were doing!

"El..."

"Yes...?"

Name spoken, the reincarnator breathed a response hotly on the side of the carefully standing woman’s neck - the sort of action she remembered once made the younger Qat uncomfortable. It clearly did so again, but in a vastly different manner. Of course, that little boundary had been given up long before. Around when they began to kiss a lot as a married couple and the blonde started to gain a peculiar-to-herself taste for being talked *onto* between El’s neck kisses.

"Be good."

Pressing with playful mirth every speck of her spirit against the frantic, gripping, *attempting* to restrain but kind of not-wanting-to-do-so tendrils of Qatrand’s spiritual energy... the Breacher remembered something quite well after all these years. A story and a description of what her then fiancé had compared the feeling of being focused on this strongly by her fiancée was like.

"Hurry, hurry, or *one* of us is going to become that scary wolf and go for the neck~ Gaor~"

⟠ ⟠ ⟠

For her part, Qat chose not to respond to the teasing provocations. She was always the one in the relationship with better self-control... and slipping into a deep, single-minded meditation in seconds after such a ’threat’ was no different than enduring her Cynosure under hundreds or more eyes focusing on herself. So firmed, the swordswoman was able to take a step. And another, to the marvel of a wife who could feel the other woman almost becoming mindless.

After hopping off of the roof and running through the city to the ’tainted’ lovenest - the small home that Klaytei *assured* no funny business had happened in, before she and Dima departed from it... much of that calm, restrained, mindless *patience* she had been proud of was gone. Her wife had teased her too far!

Pulsing different emotions, at different rates, along different tendrils until finding a harmony that had finished off her spiritual ability to stay detached. Sinking low and kissing her neck relentlessly, while whispering how no one would see them, while *rubbing* so constantly along the way had overloaded the blonde’s physical senses more than once after that - and almost caused her to stumble at least three times.

And her essence field... well, it could only stay tight and focus on the mass of items her wife still kept in orbit around herself. Some of which seemed to be held with more suspicious excitement and care than others.

Two women finally entered the private cultivation room El had built, kept tidied up by a certain personal servant after it was no longer needed for a certain Fox Avatar and Obsidian Mirror’s mission to renovate the illusory training tool. Qatrand gil Yecine’s hands were still holding her frustrating in all kinds of ways wife up by her very warm and pleasing to touch thighs when she spoke an unexpected phrase in a very low and urgent voice to the brunette behind her:

"Take off your dress or I’ll rip it off."

. . .

’Ehn? I don’t believe I remember tutoring you to say something like that?!’

To Elua er Goltbred, such a line only meant one thing. Her Qat...