(the way she looked in the other photos before mai had turned her attention away from them was much better. not like a corpse, more alive. the sight of her looking almost like she were the walking dead fades to the present her. cellinia could admit that she looked terrible, felt horrible back then. whenever she did feel something, anyway. there was a numbness to her that had lasted for quite some time, and that wasn't just her being aloof. it changed as time went on, those cute girls were her coworkers. the people she befriended. each with their own standout features that made them almost seem more like a gaggle of misfits than a group of couriers, but the emperor did start this venture because of cellinia. because he didn't want her to keep falling down on a path he knew would destroy her. it all started from simple curiosity, curiosity that became an urge to not leave her alone.
without that, cellinia would not be standing here. she wouldn't be alive. death would have come for her sooner as that saying remains. lone wolves do not last long for a reason. they're expected to die, expected to lose their lives for any number of reasons while the pack itself carries on. cellinia did have it in her to have a faint flush across her cheeks, nothing prominent. the other girls can't say they've seen her like this. not how she's standing there and even going over in her mind what she might like to see mai in most of her wardrobe.
or that had been the idea, until she pauses her search. to relax into her arms, that urge to kiss her lover is back again. how easy it would be to turn her head and do just that, she finds herself addicted to her lips already. cellinia even was comfortable to let her lover take hold of her, to rest her chin against her shoulder. mai is the slightly taller one of them, from what she's realized. not that the wolf minds it, though she has a feeling her lover might enjoy the idea of cellinia having to lean up a bit to kiss her. that she also has to reach up and take hold of her face like that to tip her head down for any others.
her laughter is a note that cuts through the thoughts more, she wasn't wrong. sooner rather than later, cellinia would remove that shirt she gives her. she even did pull out one of her button ups for her lover, she had worn it recently so it'd carry the most of her scent.)
True. (she murmurs, the thoughts she imagined earlier were there again. of mai borrowing what fits from cellinia's closet and taking it for herself. covering herself in a scent that is mixed of rain and nicotine. the dress shirts tended to tickle her imagination more, anyway. the idea of her lover wearing one and leaving it half undone; bearing skin that would get the attention of this wolf who would have been unable to help herself. her impeccable restraint aside, there's something here that makes cellinia unable to even resist.) I'll find mine then now, the bathroom is at the end of the hall.
(she'll have to show her which room has her utilities in it after, but it should be obvious. there's only one door left that isn't accounted for. cellinia is looking forward to this, somewhere more private with her lover. somewhere they could both not be found at. she doesn't normally bring back any kind of lover to her apartment, at least in the rarer times cellinia responded to those whims of her own. she even isn't the best of flirts from her prickly demeanor, but that was another thing the wolf realizes mai brought out of her. that the flirting felt so natural, so right between them. she couldn't help herself on that point, either. that point where she chased her more in her own way. with an earnestness that suited a wild wolf.
an honesty in her more animalistic desires, she spoke them out like they were poetry of their own.
she'll have to turn off her phone, to be safe. she didn't want to be interrupted by work suddenly because the emperor decided that they were all going to go after some stupid mooks around. he did like to add more to their job descriptions that shouldn't be there, and that also happened to include the girls winding up in fights with local gangsters. others who were making bigger mistakes in messing a little too much with penguin logistics. their rep isn't the greatest thing thanks to that. but they did have a rep for getting their work done regardless of those quirks. cellinia settles for herself finally, with one of her baggy shirts. she didn't need to wear any shorts underneath these and it makes for an easier time to remove.
given that they both know, they can't keep their hands off each other for long. with dress shirt and baggy shirt in hand, cellinia would be in the bathroom soon. she'll likely order them food if it gets to be a bit too late. it isn't as if she minds, sometimes cooking could be a pain whenever the wolf isn't in the mood for it. plus she has a feeling her goddess would want her undivided attention in all the ways her lover could ever have.
....maybe she wants to do that for her too, with giving her that much of her attention throughout the day, the night.)
[There's no way that the faint blush tinting Cellinia's cheeks goes unnoticed by Mai, even from her position close behind her. When paired with the way she relaxes some in Mai's hold, the girl can't resist feeling proud of herself for drawing out such a cute reaction from her stoic wolf. Perhaps it's the benefit of being in one's own abode, the lack of obligation to put on appearances for the outside world. Cellinia undoubtedly has to steel herself for whatever risky job she might be taking-- Mai can only presume that chasing after gangsters isn't the type of work that has her feeling soft and affectionate enough to blush around her colleagues-- so seeing her just a touch more at ease is very appealing to Mai. And she feels it too, the sliver of freedom to enjoy a little tenderness, herself. Being tough all of the time is exhausting.]
Oh, you want me in that, hmm?
[Out of everything that Cellinia might have selected for Mai to wear for her, the simple dress shirt is somewhat of a surprise-- and not an unwelcome one, actually, the more that Mai considers it. She could very well have tossed Mai a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants and called it a day, unbothered by how she might be swimming in the fabric. There's nothing wrong with a casual and comfortable set of clothes to wear while she waits for her uniform to be tidied up-- but at the same time, there's something to be said of having to yank a hoodie over one's head when trying to indulge in some hot and heavy activities. It seems like her lovely wolf has put a bit of thought into this, especially with the implication that she might want to unbutton it herself, treating Mai like a pretty little present to be unwrapped for some fun later on.
She makes no further remarks, and has no complaints whatsoever about Cellinia's choice. It'll be a delight to see those eyes light up when she actually gets to see just how it'll flatter Mai. Certainly something to look forward to.]
All right. See you, then.
[Her parting words are drawn out in a sing-song voice, and she leaves Cellinia with the briefest of kisses upon her shoulder before ambling out of the bedroom. Just before she's out of sight, she casts a flirty smile back at her lover, whose wolfish eyes are sparkling with some manner of imaginative thoughts. Mai hopes that they're of her, is almost certain that they are, and leaves into the hall feeling more than a little pleased with herself.
Just as Cellinia indicates, the bathroom is situated at the end of the hall, behind a door that is slightly ajar. Easy enough to find. Once the light is switched on, Mai can quickly see that this room matches all of the others in this apartment, in that it's sparsely decorated aside from the essentials. There are mostly only towels on the shelves, and basic toiletries on the counter around the sink. It's a stark contrast to Mai's bathroom at her dorm, littered with all kinds of face care products in their eye-catching containers, at least three different colors of nail polish, a makeup bag that she can't close because she keeps shoving more items inside. You can hardly see the counter space beneath all of her girly clutter. Forget her earlier thoughts about Cellinia living like a guy-- it's more apt to say that she lives like Maki. This is almost exactly what Mai pictures her sister's place in the Tokyo dorms to look like, and the thought has her chuckling out loud despite herself.
Charming, but she'd never admit that out loud. Not in a million years.
Once she gets the shower water running, Mai waits for the water to warm up by lingering in front of the mirror again, admiring her reflection. Cellinia has earned the praise for following orders-- Mai can't see any of the bites she had left outside of the fabric of her dark uniform. It's perfect, considering the season, though it does make her mind wander to the possibility of more marks in more places once the weather begins to cool down.
But, now she's curious. Her fingers move to strip off her clothes and undergarments, impatient to reveal the well-hidden bites beneath. As soon ad the last bit of fabric hits the tiled floor, Mai returns her attention to the mirror with eager eyes. Oh, Cellinia's right-- it's indeed the loveliest view. The small blotches of red and violet that litter her pale skin are beautiful, a haphazard trail from her neck to her navel, before the mirror cuts off the rest of the wolf's handiwork. She knows where the rest are, though, the most secret of those marks.
Whenever Cellinia joins her in the bathroom, she'll find Mai trailing her fingers over each pretty bloom with a satisfied expression on her face.]
(letting down her guard can always be difficult, a task that many have given up on. not because cellinia doesn't trust them, but because of her issues with vulnerability. that's always the struggle. displaying it for someone and letting herself be at ease. it's never been the easiest thing, cellinia could even count the number of times that she's failed miserably at it. though it changes little, that she felt comfortable enough to blush for her lover. that she could let herself relax into her hold as though mai has a privilege that another soul would never be able to obtain, this is another thing to treasure from her. from this wolf who has gone through more than she could ever dare bring herself to admit. it isn't so bad. being in her arms, seeing the way that her lover approved of her choice.
good. it's a bit more tenderness between them, she didn't want to pick something too tedious to remove from her lover. she also wanted it to be something her lover would like to be in. easy to remove, easy to get comfortable in, and also even easier for mai to torture cellinia with. which did add into those imaginative thoughts. those thoughts she had when she feels her lover's lips brush up against her shoulder. she did look over mai's way, as expected her eyes were lit up. lit up and watching the way that mai had left. that flirty smile, the sing-song lilt to her voice. it's done more to her. maybe she is hopeless, to want to see it more. to want to hear that flirty tone and her way of smiling when cellinia is doing something that she likes already. but that's too fast. much too fast. then again, they've gone against reason. multiple times, against that and logic while together in how they skipped over steps.
but that's the thing about girls like cellinia, like them. moving fast....that was part of the thrill. whenever they had so little, they'd want it. there isn't any way around that in the way that cellinia chases and chases. all mai has to do is keep offering her the chase they both are enjoying. she'd keep showering her in her worship. in those lips of hers leaving more marks, more bruises, more where her teeth bit down into for her darling lover.
had she heard what her lover thought, she might have been confused. it isn't as though she knows about mai's family (not yet) as it stands between them. but her bathroom did have some cologne in it. subtle scents, nothing too strong due to her senses. too much can be overpowering, but she did enjoy the scent of mai's perfume as a nice little bonus. enough that she doesn't mind being covered more in her scent.
cellinia comes in quietly, with both the dress shirt for mai and that baggy number for herself. that one would be easy for mai's hands to slip under as she pleases. she could even remove it just as easily. that was what cellinia found best for herself. ah, but she did see the way her lover looks pleased in the mirror. how her hands trail along those bruises and the teeth marks she left. she doesn't speak, but cellinia does come up behind her lover after setting aside the clothing they'd both swap into. if only for now, to look over her shoulder as best as she could do. her own hands rest against her hips, a gentle rub into the skin while mai admires her handiwork.
she liked it that much, did she?)
It really is a lovely view....
(as she thought, she wants to leave more. that's unsurprising. she wants to decorate her in as many as mai would wish. to leave them all in those precious spots that only their eyes would know about. that only they'd have been able to see. she likes the idea too much, like marking her lover as solely hers and only hers. making her remember the way that she feels so possessive whenever it comes to her already. because she wants her.
it's another sin, another mistake on their growing list, but she did mean it. that she wants her to be hers. cellinia can't deny that. even if one day a part of her would want to run again.)
I could always leave more if you're not satisfied with only those.
(her lips brush against her shoulder as she speaks, cellinia even looks content breathing in her scent from this close. another part she wants to commit to memory. for this day, for more than this day.)
[If Cellinia is so keen on being tortured by Mai, then she shouldn't mind a bit of a head start when she strolls in, right? The room starting to get a little steamy by the time she arrives, but it only makes the teasing sight in front of her all the more appealing: Mai leaning over the counter, not a stitch of clothing on her body, smiling at Cellinia now in the reflection as she finds her place behind the preening girl. A low, blissful hum rumbles in Mai's throat once she feels those calloused hands settle comfortably upon her hips, and her heartbeat quickens when Cellinia caresses the flesh there.]
Oh, I agree. Bet you've never seen anything this incredible before.
[Of course, Mai won't ask if Cellinia has ever brought home a bitten-up lover before-- or even how many, an even worse question, really! Is there a point in stoking her jealous streak when she's feeling this coveted? Moving too fast, being unreasonable-- all of that can go right out the window when she's the center of attention like this. Forget those silly girls in the photo frames, and forget anyone else who has ever dared to imagine Mai's affections for their own. None of them could ever hope to steal the magnificent spotlight being shone on her right now amidst the wisps of steam from the shower. Not a single one could rob her of the pure joy at feeling so exalted whenever Cellinia gazes upon her like this.
That's the most dangerous part of getting involved with this wolf, the smothered voice of reason tries to squeak in the back of her mind. It's not the hands that could slice Mai to ribbons, now rubbing her hips affectionately; not the mouth that warned her of its hunger in the bites and bruises left in its wake, that precious mouth that currently presses faint kisses against her shoulder. No, the danger lies in those sweet admirations, that polite venturing for permission to bestow upon Mai even more of what she craves. The danger lurks in the fondness that lulls her into a sense of intimacy that she's wholly ignorant of. Any concentrated effort to make herself cold, to distance herself from falling into these strange feelings, is met with a firm resistance-- the antithesis to common sense, surely. It must have started with those promises exchanged, quietly binding them further, an ironclad thread wrapping around the parts of themselves that they would never imagine getting involved in this liaison.
Oh, but the real danger simmers in the way she can almost imagine something deeper between them, in the way that she nearly hopes that this 'something' could be more than just a product of the over-active imagination of a very lonely girl.
Mai likes it, all of it, far too much. There's no other reason why she would permit Cellinia to whisk her away all over the city and its outskirts, no other reason why she'd be the one chasing that addicting feeling of possessing and being possessed.]
Mm, you wanna satisfy me some more, huh?
[That suggestion of Cellinia's is twisted into something a touch more vulgar on Mai's tongue, but the way in which she runs her fingertips over that first bite at her neck makes it obvious that the promise of even more marks is still firmly on her mind.]
I think you missed a few spots, anyway.
[It's not worth the effort to point out where exactly. Cellinia can have her fun exploring Mai's body all over again, and discover those spots for herself.
How pretty she looks, contentedly breathing in her lover's scent as her lips continue grazing against her shoulder. It's a shame that her fading perfume will soon be traded in for the notes Cellinia wears, from her soap to the remnants of cologne lingering upon her dress shirt. Or is it such a shame? After all, it was one of the first things that the wolf admitted to Mai-- that she favors bathing her lovers in her scent, yet another mark of ownership.
Speaking of... ]
But, you know-- I'm the one who's actually falling behind, and that's not fair, is it?
[As much as she enjoys feeling Cellinia holding her like this from behind, Mai feels like seeing more than merely her reflection in the mirror, now. She turns her body entirely to face her and leans back a bit against the counter, displaying herself to Cellinia in all of her bare, marked-up glory. Her hand reaches out to fiddle with one of the straps of her tank top, and her eyebrows raise in a cheeky look that says 'We should get you out of these clothes, already.']
Sorry, but I don't want you looking in the mirror until I'm all finished, got it?
[And, of course, Cellinia will not be leaving the shower without several new marks to show for it.]
(she isn't wrong, she did like the view. the sight of her and her body. she's a thing of beauty. something cellinia appreciates heavily while making her feel special. mai is something special, though. this isn't just for no reason or to get into her pants only. that's nothing cellinia would change about how she feels and thinks. she likes the sight of her, bent over the counter and running her hands along her body. that's something lovely and better than cellinia could have seen alone. not even in her dreams at night of things less than innocent and more filled with the bloodshed, the violence and other ill moments of death and misfortune. those were further behind on her mind when cellinia hums into her lover's shoulder in approval. isn't it always a better view? like something that she never could have imagined for herself.
like something she never had before in the way her fingertips rub into the skin, their callouses a stark contrast again. it's beautiful. this lovely sight. this sight of her lover all for her eyes alone. amber eyes which take in her pretty face. memorizing every detail as another thing. another part of their time spent together and days soon to come as they've both began to think more about it. about that idea that they have someone who causes them to look forward to their upcoming days. their weeks, months. hasn't that always been what girls like them could have ever wanted? someone in their lives they never want to let go of. that they couldn't let go of from an aching desire to have their lover. their lover as only theirs, their body belonging solely to one in possession while cellinia does think about it.)
Best view I could ask for, all for me.
(it's a soft purr, a soft growl for her lover. it's addicting. that urge and that high that comes from it. possessing, owning, and craving. the sights of one another, their bodies a canvas for their touch. a touch of something more in which has them dyed into a certain color that fits one another. marks that bloom across the skin, teeth that bit down into precious places slowly. hands that touch and leave their own markings from the way they grab. like starved beasts, starved girls who had too little of love and tenderness. they could be more like animals themselves. more than anyone else could be in those cravings.
she speaks in soft admiration, she means those tender words is the frightening part. words that would never be said to someone else had cellinia any say in that. she doesn't speak this way. vulnerability would always be her deepest struggle, but it's harder not to be vulnerable piece by piece. a tender drop of her guard that mai has in her hands so sweetly. so closely. all while she marks her body as belonging to a wolf, hers. only hers in all this misery, this sorry excuse for a world which often has hurt them and more than that. she's listening, she's got her eyes on her pretty face with that look in them again.
that hungry look. restrained, but tender. soft, like she knows what they're both waiting on together. what they both want from the rest of their time together. she wouldn't dare let go of her, would she? could cellinia keep this girl in her arms and never once feel that urge again with her instincts, the way it would gnaw at her as time goes on? that she doesn't get this way? it's a mystery, a mystery she can't say she knows or anyone knows.)
I can go over those then when I get a chance to. When you want more of me, bella signora....seems like we're both greedy for it.
(she can't deny that. she did want to satisfy mai more, she wants to leave her feeling lighter than she came to see her as. she wants mai to feel so at ease, to feel free. isn't that fitting for the woman who freed herself to want to not let her lover feel such misery that she knows too well? but enough about that, mai did have a point about their current states. cellinia has left more marks on her body than mai has on cellinia.
the turn of her bared body to face her lover, the lean of her back to the counter while mai grabs the straps of her tank top. she's not going to shy away now, not ever in how the wolf comes closer for her lover. her little red riding hood she runs her hands now along the thighs of idly. those amber eyes are soft, they're something pretty while she has them half full of hunger and something brighter for mai.)
That's right, you said you wanted to leave me a leopard, didn't you?
(but it didn't stop her, not from peppering kisses on mai's neck as she hums it out lowly for her. it's a slow tease, a tender tease because she knows her lover would want to undress her, this time. cellinia had done it earlier for her. it's only fitting she's a good girl for her while mai's soft hands brush against scars. whatever patches of soft skin she has along her upper body, all for mai.)
Come on, dolcezza. I want your hands on me.
(another word, another reminder. at least it wasn't "cara mia", like that wolf would have done in her sharp twisted smiles and own wants for the other one. she wasn't going to call her that so soon. but maybe she can use some other words, some other sweet things until that day comes where she calls her "amante".
[This wolf truly has a way with words, doesn't she? 'All for me.' Goodness, how many stories warn pretty young girls against falling for the honeyed words of relentless beasts? Any proper young lady with sense ought to be dreaming of white knights to give her heart to. A perfect 'happily ever after,' just like every little girl is promised, so long as she's well-behaved and pure in her intentions. And yet, here Mai is, besmirching her family's good name by giving her body to a growling wolf whose eyes never cease in devouring her completely. The best view, without a doubt-- the best of everything, really, as Cellinia is surely becoming aware of after enjoying a sweet sampling of it in the back of her car.
Besides, who needs a white knight, anyway? What a waste of a daydream. This cruel world seems all too happy to hammer the lesson home that no one will come to save a hopeless little girl, no matter how desperately she wishes or how pure-hearted she is. All the better, then, that Mai's heart is the farthest thing from pure. She'd frighten off any well-meaning knight, and look down on them for even trying to show her a picture-perfect ending. They'd recoil from the kind of person she really is-- but a beast wouldn't. This beast doesn't. If she so desired, Cellinia could sink her teeth into Mai's rotten little heart, drink up the juices that would send any would-be knight to his death, and let it fuel that animalistic appetite even further.
After all, what every monster desires is a young girl's heart, no? And the best ones would not even bat an eye at the misery that makes the taste of it bitter-- no, the best kind of monster would relish the taste of despair. They would know how to distort it, corrupt it even further, making that girl unfailingly theirs, never again to seek out some nonexistent fairytale ending. Won't you savor that despair, too, Cellinia? Could you, the day Mai decides that only a beast could deserve her cruel and lonely heart?]
Me? Greedy?
[She feigns offense, or makes a half-decent attempt at it, but the knowing glint in her eyes betrays her from the get-go. It's a trait she's aware of, one she never identifies by name, and hearing Cellinia call her out so casually makes her feel a little liberated. And dangerously so, from the smug smile that tugs at her lips.]
Got me all figured out already, huh?
[This accusation is purred affectionately enough. Though now, with both of them plainly acknowledging that they're not at all interested in self-restraint, it feels easier to let go a little more. Cellinia's hands stroking her thighs-- their familiar place, there-- has Mai melting for her. Pleasant sighs spill from her lips, punctuated by soft hisses and gasps when she feels Cellinia draw herself closer to kiss enthusiastically along her neck. And then, a breathy laugh when Cellinia insists on Mai's hands upon her, in return.]
Look at you-- making demands of me, greedy little pup.
[Ah, there's that slip of her mother tongue, another pretty word that Mai doesn't understand, though she's at least aware enough that Cellinia likes to speak it when uttering sweet nothings to her lover. She won't ask after it, not when she's plenty satisfied with how her wolf's mouth is occupied with kissing her. Well, greedy pups deserve to be rewarded, even when they're demanding. Mai brings her hand to the back of Cellinia's head, finding her hair tie and tugging it free, spilling pretty dark locks down her back and over her shoulders. Her fingers immediately comb through her hair, after giving her fluffy ears a tender stroking, appreciating the way they twitch beneath her touch. Her other hand is already roaming up Cellinia's back, halfway under her tank top, her fingertips trailing up and down her spine.
As much as it pains her to do so, Mai will slightly push her off, but only so that she can yank her top completely over her head. Better. It'll be much more enjoyable to pull Cellinia against her once again, a closer and tighter embrace this time, before kissing her deeply with a low hum of appreciation and unbridled need. It's perfect, feeling their skin flush with one another's. Mai is almost certain she can feel Cellinia's heart thumping against her chest, just as she knows that Cellinia can feel the erratic rhythm of Mai's own in exchange.
After a handful of kisses, Mai pulls away just enough to lower her head and nip firmly at the soft flesh below her lover's jaw. It should compliment the other marks nicely, Mai thinks to herself, while her hands busy themselves with either cupping at Cellinia's breast-- another place Mai has a hankering to nibble some souvenir onto-- and slipping teasingly beneath the waistband of her shorts, her nails digging softly into her hip.]
You're lucky that it really bothers me, leaving a job unfinished.
[The shower should be ready for them, whenever they decide that they've had enough with this warm-up. While Mai isn't in a terrible hurry to rush them, her mind is brimming with all of the places on Cellinia's perfect body that she wants to kiss and suck bruises onto. She imagines that most of her work would be best done atop a bed-- whichever of Cellinia's two beds they'll find themselves on once they've toweled off.]
(that's right. they never needed a knight. one of them became a monster, a beast. a beast that was on the prowl, on the hunt and too willing to kill when it suits her most. too willing to latch those teeth of hers on someone, bite down and feast on them alive. that's only nature. nature that could be frightening in how cellinia could show it. she didn't need to restrain herself when it comes to those moments, she'd bare her teeth and make a nice meal of anyone that foolish. but that was so very lonely for the beast too, isn't it? beasts without a home are the loneliest little things, hungering for one and wanting the touch of another. the feel of them so tender while they keep demanding more. everything down to what little could ever be left of precious girls that found themselves ruined in an equal fashion to them. precious girls who were as lost as they are, destroyed by the cruelty of the world.
they didn't need a knight, they lured in beasts. beasts like her who finds it too easy to drink of this fountain between them. affection that seems to be something only they'd understand, touches that light them on fire. make them feel again because it's evident that the world itself didn't care enough about their lives. only how to destroy them, only how to bring ruin on what once was beautiful souls. lonely girls like her only had to twist the beast themselves into their hands, lure them in further with such sweet promises. the offering of bodies while they give more, so very much more than most would have obtained. their teeth could snap into hearts like mai's, so full of despair and her own lonely desire.
could she ever drink it so deep? she might, she might even have a feast fit for a beast while letting this lonesome girl carve deeper into her body that demand of wanting the beast.
not a knight, only a beast. not a knight alive could withstand the beast who wants a girl like this. they're all so difficult, so terrible to try and kill. that only comes as fact from their suffering, their own agony and despair. they could drown it and nobody would know, just the same way they could drown their poor lover forever with them. but did it matter? what if they wanted to drown, what if they craved to be pulled under this current with their lover and forget about what's hurt them? forgot about the despair, the agony, the ways that nothing ever seemed to fit or go right? would she love that, would you, mai? to drown in that rain your wolf smells strongly of and let go like you both never existed to anyone other than each other?
isn't that all too fitting that they both come apart and decide their agony, their cruelty, is only fit for one another as those thorns cut so deep that nobody else could touch them?)
Greedy....yeah, you like it, you can't get enough of it, can you?
(because she can't. she couldn't, how cellinia murmurs it so heatedly. a fit of fire to that ice in her tone and in her veins. it only gets hotter at her gasps, that breathy laughter when the wolf makes that demand clear. greedy pup, huh? she doesn't like being called one (not usually) but exceptions are something made easily. like now where mai gets that much, an exception from the beast that is comfortable between her legs. that so happens to run her fingers along her bare thighs, trailing along in their rightful place on her body.
one of their rightful places when a shiver runs down her spine at the sensation of her tank top riding up halfway along her back. at her fingertips trailing along her spine and the other hand stroking those fluffy ears after taking her hair down. the twitch of them pleased by mai's hand working a sort of magic into them. she's melting again, but that's not a surprise. not too much of one while cellinia is coaxed back for her lover, to part enough for her and stop running her mouth along her neck for now. she won't complain, she knows why her lover needed her to.
the tank top falls to the floor with ease, cellinia even helping without a second thought before she's pulled in close. the skin flush and her battered body pressed against mai's softer skin. her heart is racing, it's obvious against mai's chest. she can feel how mai's own is hammering from their closeness. the closeness of their tight embrace before the kiss. deep, hungering, not in any rush from how well deserved it is thanks to their waiting earlier. god was it hard, she felt like an addict for her lips. for her kiss in how she needs more of those soft lips, more of her tongue brushing against her own. more of those sounds that she gets fed into them, cellinia even fed mai some of her own for that with each kiss. each growing more hungry, more wanting.)
Can it be helped if I can't get enough of you myself? I like it when you get this way, wanting more and and more. How much do you want those pretty lips of yours on me, dolcezza?
(she's always like this, always. how her head goes back enough to give mai more of that tender flesh she's after, how she moans softly for her. another mark for her to display, another as she shivers again from the sensation of nails teasingly digging into her hip. the soft press of them while her breast is cupped and palmed by her lover. her own hands squeeze into her thighs, not too hard and not too soft. near firm in the way they her claws press gently into them. a light threat, but they both know she wouldn't. not unless her lover willed it.
a light warm up before the shower isn't so bad. the slowness was fine, though cellinia knows not to take too long. they'd run out of warm water before they could get to the better part, the part where mai would decorate her body against her mattress in return for her being a good little beast for her. while breathing out these pretty words, these words she means. these words she wouldn't hold herself back on saying. don't you like it when the beast speaks so freely in her want? how she seems hellbent on making you feel something too more than misery and being numb to it, mai?)
[Oh, this ice queen has some fire in her, does she? Mai is almost taken aback at how boldly she speaks to her, accusing her hotly of being absolutely insatiable-- though she's moreso taken aback in a way that has her grinning against Cellinia's neck in a wicked, dizzying delight. How dare she, this wolf of hers-- how dare she tell Mai exactly what she sees, a very greedy girl who, indeed, can't get nearly enough. How dare she declare it in such a manner that taunts Mai into wanting to be deliciously ruthless, and show the wolf just how right she is. Maybe she's just a human, but a spurred-on Mai can certainly do her best to give a beast a run for her money. After kissing the space next to her windpipe with a marked affection, she sinks her teeth in hard while raking her nails firmly across Cellinia's hip, laughing quietly against her skin.]
What-- you're gonna cut me off, now? Right when I'm about to have some real fun?
[She draws out this bit of teasing banter. Merciless teasing, rather-- which is all too obvious in the way her eyes lock onto Cellinia's when she pulls away from her neck. Maybe she shouldn't have riled her up, but maybe Cellinia will enjoy the way her own feral nature is rubbing off on Mai, just a little bit. After pressing her back against the wall opposite the sink, Mai takes the hand she has at her chest and slides it up to stroke Cellinia's face affectionately, contrasting against the sharp sensation of her nails in the skin of her hip. When she smiles at her lover, now, the softness belies a cruel pleasure at having her big bad wolf in cage made of beautiful flesh.]
But, of course you like it, though. Those other girls-- [ and she refers to the ones in the pictures that Cellinia has displayed in the main room ] --they don't look like the types who can get you so hot like this.
[Just like this, just where Mai knows that heat burns most passionately. Her eyes never look away the entire time she glides her other hand beneath the waistband of Cellinia's shorts, undoing them just enough to make space for her fingers to dip beneath her panties and touch her lazily in that place her fingers are already well-acquainted with. It's obvious from how wet she is that this craving is starting to become desperate. How lovely, the ease with which Mai can work her up. And yet, Cellinia runs her mouth so brazenly, still! She wants to bait Mai into confessing how much she wants to mark her, taste her, fulfill that promise to leave her wholly claimed by her-- but Mai has other ideas, of course.]
Ha! How much do you want my lips all over your body, Cellinia? You know what? I bet you've been aching for it so badly this entire time. Bet you were thinking of it while you were lapping me up, hoping you'd get your turn soon.
[Her voice drips with the absolute sweetest flavor of mocking. Really, it practically gets her off to taunt Cellinia like this. It'll get her into trouble, surely. But Mai can muster up some proper fearlessness when it suits her. What else is there to do, when neither of them want to back down from the challenge that only seems to mount higher and higher?]
So-- my hands weren't enough for you, hmm? Wanna taste yourself all over my tongue, next-- is that it?
[Satisfied with having stroked her lover just enough-- enough for Mai, definitely not for Cellinia-- Mai withdraws her fingers and brings them to her lips, giving them a single swipe with her tongue. Her eyes are alight with a dark amusement, watching Cellinia in the hopes of seeing something that will only feed that ravenous feeling.]
Guess you're in luck, again-- because I'm starving.
[And Mai decides-- cruel girl that she is-- that she'll make Cellinia beg for it, because she's the prettiest when she's brought to the brink. Forced to restrain herself while her wolfish eyes give her away entirely. There's little Mai finds that she loves more than shattering Cellinia's patience, over and over. She declared that she'd make this beast her own, after all. How else will she make good on that word, other than to take the shreds of bravery in her possession, and forge them into a weapon of pure ecstasy?]
But, I dunno-- should I get on my knees for you, right now? We've got a nice, hot shower waiting for us...
['I can be patient, unlike you,' her cheeky smile seems to say.]
(cruel pleasure, that cruelty exists. she feels it in the way mai digs her nails in her hip. how she's pushed back against the wall. they're staring eye to eye again. mai's teeth biting down harshly into her neck. no, this is what she wanted to see. she wanted to see her. see how greedy her lover is, see the way she keeps wanting more from her. how much she has to have it, taking every inch of it offered before her like something given in worship. she loves it more than cellinia could ever say, in how her eyes shimmer from cruel teasing. cruel torturous pleasure in how her lover makes it clear that she knows her in what little time they've had together. she's paid attention well. in how she wants to drag out the big bad wolf into being wholly hers. she wanted her teeth and her bite solely as her own. cellinia herself must be pleased mai could even respond this way.
she wants every part of her, those hands and her mouth. those pretty lips all over her own. her hands taking hold of her body, cellinia finds it impossible to not imagine it. can't she ever be normal, is a question that's always been there. her father would at times ask this. accusatory and everything, that his daughter was not behaving the way a woman should. she didn't need to behave like, she didn't want to. what she wanted was something else. something more. she relishes in the softness with those scratches raked along her hip. how mai's hand seems so gentle against her cheek while cellinia leans her head into it at first.
she's thoughtful, thinking whenever she hisses out her moans. the moans her lover wanted to hear in such cruelty. in response to her mockery, even, how she has a growl rumble down her throat. mai would feel it from their closeness, she knows. she knows she'd feel the way cellinia's heart threatens to leap out of her chest. how it has yet to stop hammering for her in the way the wolf looks at this girl, this little red riding hood before her. cellinia doesn't say anything more, not yet, she has something in mind she wants to do first.
she threatens teeth in the heel of her hand as her lips brush against it, as if to say she would have bitten it if she could have. like she wanted to, but knows her lover would almost surely punish her. that was only a show of what mai could ever have craved for, in how she answers cruel pleasure with faint threats. faint threats and promises of teeth around the corner if pressed the right ways.)
I want your mouth on my body, leaving those pretty markings you wished to. All over, no matter if they're seen or not. I want your hands on me....leaving scratches, bruises, touching me so much you're all that haunts me.
(because she's by no means, not the type of girl to not feel greedy when allowed to be. cellinia even shows it, in how her eyes are dark with that craving. how much more is she going to spill out for their challenge? how much higher is it going to go? she responds so easily, so naturally. she wants to keep it going even as she whines almost from mai's fingers leaving that wet heat of hers. that must be a lovely sight. watching how she refrains from whining, and how she must be staring at the sight of her licking a single time her arousal and musk off her fingers.
she knows her too well, too well how she likes this. and maybe she would explain later that those were her friends, her coworkers. mai didn't know this, yet. she'll tell her later whenever they're not about to lose their minds in multiple ways when she sees that cheeky smile. that damn cheeky smile which calls out to her again, the sight of it another thing of beauty. something else she memorizes again to herself without a second thought. how many of those can she see? how much of her can she get while she wants to claim this girl as hers?
who knows, cellinia surely doesn't. she might never when she finds herself letting go more in the things she says.)
I want to taste you until you're the only thing I know, I want to haunt you as much as I wish you'd haunt me after this day.
(but she knows, they do need to be patient. if the water ran out before they could get clean, what good was their fun?)
I want to be ravenous for you, dolcezza, after this....
[Perfect, it's utterly perfect, the sight of Cellinia's eyes shining with silent awe at Mai's audacity. This is the goddess you wish to worship, darling wolf. A goddess made of flesh and blood so rotten that Cellinia will, without a doubt, lose her mind once she's picked her bones clean. A merciless goddess who will grant the impassioned wishes of her devotee, but not before robbing her of everything that had ever made sense in her life. Was there even much to begin with, Cellinia? Surely not, or else she would have never lingered to finally lay her eyes upon the face of a capricious girl-- one who, similarly, has little left worth holding close to her true heart.
A shame, the way that both of their father's would be so disappointed in them for their complete disregard for propriety. They ought to be cloaked in shame before one another, their families' best and worst, daring to be anything other than what their proud lineage dictates-- and what Fate dictates, too.
Ah, but it seems that Fate has changed her tune, hasn't she? No longer does she play the frantic melody of a chase between a hunter and the hunted, the tension so taut that the strings could snap at any moment. This time, Fate crafts them a perfect requiem meant for the haunting ghosts that Cellinia so ardently wishes them to become for one another. Fate, ever-silent in the manner with which she draws these two love-starved girls together, plays this dirge for them, and wills them to dare to be reborn in these little deaths that they promise one another.
Mai, herself, could never have believed that she'd ever want to completely crumble in the hands of a beast who professes herself to her with such poetry. Cellinia wants it all, does she? She yearns for Mai to leave irrefutable proof that she was here, thoroughly claiming this wolf for her own. She practically pleads for her to bury her soul in those bruises and scratches that Mai will unquestionably leave her filthy with. And when she feels the threat of those teeth against the heel of her palm, Mai can't suppress a sinful, gleeful grin-- Cellinia is all but promising to bequeath her own soul in return.]
Oh, Cellinia...
[Her name is murmured so sweetly, while Mai rubs the tip of her thumb slowly, menacingly against the corner of her wolf's threatening lips.]
I'm gonna ruin you.
[Because it sounds like an awful lot like a curse. Cellinia wants to curse Mai, curse her so deeply that not even the best sorcerers could ever hope to exorcise her. And Mai is already so pitifully condemned, and always has been from the moment she drew her first breath. This promise, this vow that Cellinia offers her lover to make with her-- it would only serve to make her whole, wouldn't it? To make that curse that had split Mai's soul in two, complete again. Ah, but what an uneven exchange this might be! Because Mai believes that she only has fragments left to offer, but will greedily take everything that Cellinia could possibly give her.
Indeed-- this pact will only ruin you completely, her pretty little wolf.]
I can't wait-- I can't wait to leave you an absolute wreck for me. Just like you want.
[And just like Mai wants to, but she'll leave that unspoken. Neither of them are leaving this place alive. And it doesn't need to be said-- or perhaps, Mai is still to proud to say it aloud-- that there is not a sliver of a chance that Mai won't be utterly haunted, herself, by Cellinia and these pretty words that she speaks without reservation. They're a foreign tune in her ear, one that has insidiously wormed its way into her mind, demanding to be replayed over and over and over whenever the inevitable loneliness creeps in too close.
'After this day...' Cellinia is condemning them both to ruin until they find one another again, isn't she? Such a cruelty of her own, one far more covert than Mai's, but no less treacherous.]
But, sweet-talking me like that-- [ and how addicted Mai already is to those alluring words ] --is really starting to frustrate me. I think I'll just have to make you pay for it, a little...
[What does she mean by that? Cellinia can use her imagination for a bit, while Mai strips her of the remainder of her clothing with far more impatience than she had boasted earlier. Not even the sight of Cellinia bared completely for her now does away with that frustration, instead only making it burn with more intensity.]
Go on-- get inside. If the hot water runs out, then you're really going to get it.
(that's the beauty of it, isn't it? that the beast is demanding it, following along in her alluring words and worship. it didn't matter, not the merciless promises or the promise of sweet ruin. that feeling of everything coming undone in the eyes of a merciless goddess. ruin her, mai. ruin her the way you want to, to keep her coming back for you. for more. nothing ever has made sense in their lives, the lives of two love-starved girls who were chewed up and spat out by the world. they're every bit a song of their own in the making, a story of their own while they still breathe. how long until their love starved hearts say and demand it? because they're falling harder, faster than anyone would have predicted for them. that texas could fall so fast is the unexpected part, that she's listening. she's hearing every word like it's something else she desires. something else that a beast like her could ever want.
their father's would have deemed them lost causes, the best going as far as to touch the worst. to kiss and speak so sweetly to her. to touch her like she's special, to fuck her so tenderly that it would mean something more than this. than what would be considered a mistake on their parts, cellinia likes it. she likes that feeling of her body against hers, she likes even the way that her lover presses into her with those thorns. the thorns of a woman so very hungry and wanting, so greedy for affections offered to her. so demanding of them, like she never wanted to be satisfied. she wants them all. she wants every part of it.
how this goddess wants this wolf down to the last drop. they're a pair of lost girls, senseless and unreasonable. suffering a slow and miserable existence. who cared about them? whoever could about their starved little souls more than one another in the way they're both falling to pieces for it so early? that dirge calling out to them down to their souls is only demanding more of them, break to pieces more and more. come undone the way that their jaded hearts could. touch each other well off into the night and beyond that until they could no longer think straight, maybe even until they couldn't help the way they would forget everything. that they're not those ruined and lost girls the world made them into.
so why don't you, mai? bury her soul in your touch, carve it into something that you could only have and drown in your love? who needed fate when they have one another, who needs cruel fate and all its misery when their touch is a salve that they both never had in their lives. the cruel and soft words uttered, the threats soft and tender. they speak so sweet and so full of affections that another saner person would have wondered what kind of twisted affair this is between them. that's only how they show it, how they show everything in their own ways. her goddess longs to hear it, how the wolf and her beautiful eyes so wild could ever want her.
her name, spoken so sweetly. that promise on her tongue, the vow. she'd ruin her with a run of her thumb along the corner of her lips. her goddess touching them like she has ideas for those pretty lips of cellinia's that doesn't stop how they sweet talk to her. how they speak out such alluring promises. promises and vows of the world, of how she only wants one goddess. how they could ever have only each other in this world, nothing else could dare to compare to them. to the touch of her beautiful goddess that she stares at with those lovely amber eyes that she adores.
so full of want, so full of everything for her. isn't she beautiful? coming undone for her in words and prayers, hymns murmured against her skin. like she found new religion in the touch of her body, in the taste of her lips. in her moans and crying out for her. her most precious devotee who feels her heart beating faster. she wants that so much.
then ruin her, mai, ruin her so sweetly. so cruelly that the touch of another would be nothing. that only your hands could heal her, that only you could make her feel something again of her own. that all she needs is you. only mai, only her and what remains of their hearts. what remains of cellinia who gives so dearly these pieces of herself for her lover. for a goddess that wants to keep her beautiful beast in her hands and arms.
that's more than enough of a prize for someone as starved as they are, isn't it?
but never mind that, she hears her goddess. she's frustrated, is she? about those alluringly tempting words. words which come out those pretty lips so naturally. she means it all in this vow that's uttered. that craving and demand. how they seem to never stop and how cellinia can't help the way she wants to see her again after this day. she wants to ruin this goddess, too. in her own cruelty, she wants her to never forget what she speaks in reverence. what she utters to her heated and endless, in tender worship of lips against her lover's body.
against the body of her goddess when she catches what she was meaning, her body is bared. so within reach yet not in her dear goddess' impatience. cellinia doesn't argue or anything, their bodies separated and the sight of her prowling invitingly into the glass door of the shower. a look over her shoulder briefly at mai before she steps in proper. the heat of the water does nothing to calm this intensity and need she feels for what lit under her that greed again.)
Vieni, dolcezza, dammi il tuo bacio mentre riesco solo a pensare a te e al tuo tocco....
(if she translates it for her, that would be another time. but it was clear in how cellinia stared at her before then, before she spoke, isn't it? she wants her and she'd ruin mai too.)
[Oh, Cellinia can only imagine how right she is about her little goddess. It's true, after all-- Mai desires in a way that will never leave her satisfied. She doesn't want to be satisfied, not completely, and certainly not in a manner that could leave her happy enough to never seek out more. This is what becomes of girls who have been so starved of love and affection their entire lives, you see. It doesn't matter how torrential the rains of adoration might fall, one day. The parched desert of their loneliness will drink it all up in a single night, nearly drowning in it-- only to proclaim its unquenchable thirst yet again once the sun rises once more. Mai is greedy, that goes without saying by now, but Cellinia willingly chooses to feed a hunger she knows is insatiable.
It almost makes one wonder-- who is the beast amongst the two of them, now? Wordlessly, it's as if they had traded roles, encouraged by the parts of themselves-- those unreasonable parts, buried oh so deeply-- that are calling out to one another. These fragments, so neglected and brittle, now glow hotly with a passion that has been awakened purely by chance. And though they still hide far beneath the surface, encased in the thorny shields forged from past anguish, these secret parts of them are almost, almost daring to trust one another. A curious sight-- the wolf, scarred with sin, prostrating itself before a girl, beseeching her to devour it, this time. Right the wrongs, even the scales by becoming the beast, now. How liberating it could be for the two of them to exchange their places, if only for today.
Mai takes a final glance in the mirror before she follows Cellinia beyond the foggy glass door-- still a girl, still a human, and very much not the beast she feels burgeoning inside. Yet something has shifted. Imperceptible, almost, save for a split-second of clarity the instant Mai meets her own eyes in the reflection. The triumph that she knows she tastes-- and one she anticipates tasing like Cellinia, sooner or later-- is sweetened by the surrender that coats it thickly, now.
'Come ruin me,' Cellinia implores her, perhaps even challenges her, with that dark need pooling depthless in her wolfish, amber eyes. But there is surrender, there, Mai can feel her own body responding to it with every electric tingle lighting up her nerves.
Her fingers grip the wet door handle, pulling it shut softly behind her. Warm steam pours into her lungs immediately, leaving her breaths a bit more shallow. That's fine, though-- Mai is already quite dizzy with something else. She can't put a name to this emotion. For her own peace of mind, she rarely ever does-- who would want to admit to the kind of feelings that seize their very soul, drawing them out from the safety of numbness? So, she'll leave it nameless. Better to let her hands map out the answer for her, instead.
Cellinia's back is turned towards Mai, still-- she'll keep it that way, wrapping her arms around Cellinia's torso and gently pushing her against one of the tiled walls. They're standing beneath most of the running water, and it's pleasant enough, especially with the way it feels when Mai presses the length of her body against her lover's, urging her more firmly against the wall.]
That's right-- forget about me, you know you want this, too.
[But of course, what Mai intends on doing now won't have Cellinia forgetting her anytime soon. She slides her fingers across her upper back, catching the long hair in a way that allows her to slip it over one of Cellinia's shoulders. Now, Mai has a perfect canvas to work with and make beautiful. After palming the expanse of her back, savoring the feeling of those firm muscles beneath the wet skin, she dips her head lower to lap along the rivulets of water traveling down the nape of Cellinia's neck. Her lips descend upon where her tongue traces, tender kisses against skin flushed from the heat of the shower.]
There you go again... [ She murmurs hungrily against the junction of her neck and shoulder, biting down with a softness to start.] Hiding yourself away in that tongue of yours. But you know what? That's fine by me.
[A shame that Cellinia can't see the naughty smile tugging at her lips, though it would be obvious enough in the tone of her words that Mai is up to something quite wicked. With one arm still wrapped around the woman's waist, Mai drags her free hand down Cellinia's scarred abdomen and further down until it finds its familiar place between her thighs. She won't even bother stifling a satisfied little laugh as soon as she finds what she's searching for.]
Because I bet-- [ and her fingers begin to stroke slowly, slowly at her clit, wanting to ruin Cellinia with her touch long before she gets to tear her down completely with her mouth in that same lovely place ] --I bet I don't need to know exactly what you're saying, when I can feel how much you're enjoying me.
(isn't it better this way? that she could keep demanding it, every drop of rain from an endless storm. from the girl that has a raging tempest inside of her, endlessly it rains down and pours it's never ending downpour on those who dare tried to withstand this beautiful storm. this storm of misery that threatens to drown anyone foolish enough to unleash it. she knows. she knows the way that it rains on them both longer and longer while they're together. into that desert which is unending in its depths of heat and threatening to sink them both down in sand and rain blending together. a bottomless greed, insatiable and cruel, beautiful love. because she doesn't deny it, cellinia wouldn't. not that she'd feed her more of that rain, more of it until they're both left ruined.
until they both drown in it, in what it blooms and what it costs them from the bottomless depths of desire. it didn't matter who the beast was, who the actual one could be. not the way she offers herself so boldly to a woman who never had freedoms that cellinia obtained by killing her own. they're too good at complimenting one another. sinful and beloved daughter, sinful and beloathed daughter. taking both by the throat as they find themselves brought down. the grip of it threatening to suffocate like the rain cellinia brings with her for this lonesome goddess she finds herself devoteed in such ease. that anguish, that crying out of their poor souls is unending in itself. fractured, torn to pieces, aimless, and numbed to everything when they were ruined once before. the world never takes kindly to girls who want nothing more with some manner of innocent sweetness in their hearts. they're nothing to that cruelty and the way it shapes them.
she waits, her back turned and tempting in the black and red strands of her lengthy hair against it. a canvas for her lover when she's pushed firmly against the wall. her forehead, pressed against it with mai exposing every bit of soft skin she could ever desire in the patches of roughness along it. her canvas is somewhere she has more she can mark. somewhere that she feels tension easing from the brush of her hand against the firm muscles. the lap of her tongue against her nape drawing out sweeter sighs, shaky breaths while cellinia braces herself with a hand to the tiles of this wall she's pressed into.
even like this, the corner of her beautiful amber eyes is on mai. as best as she may, they speak plenty of what she wants. they say it more than words alone could ever at this moment where she's pressed firmly between the wall and feeling the length of mai's body against her. ah, she wants to kiss her again already. isn't she utterly hopeless? that she could want her lips so much yet doesn't beg for them. she wants to feel them against her skin.
she wants them to chase after their own insatiable greed in how the goddess wants this wolf all to herself. the wolf who sighs out the prettiest of songs for her lover, her little red riding hood and goddess in how she stands. legs parted enough as mai speaks. while she leaves tender kisses along the expanse of her back, along every inch of it her goddess could ever desire as her own to paint in a color she'd know. this marking that would stay carved into her body.
ruin me, just like this. she mouths it wordlessly, she needs it and finds that urge to ruin her lover in kind is there. so strong and demanding in its own want to never let mai forget about a lonesome beast that wants to be haunted by her, that wants to be cursed to never forget her face and to chase it. chase it until she finds her again, until she can touch her and have mai again. until mai could have the wolf that wanted nothing more than to ruin her, too.
come on, lover, ruin her. the way you want to, the way you have to as a means of tying this lonely and jaded girl to you forever. into having her never leave you alone. her teeth sinking in your skin, claiming you forever as her own while never letting go of you. ruin her so beautifully that she can only dream of you, mai.
that she would haunt the dreams of a wolf and remain, chasing away everything in it's violence.)
F-fuck....(she doesn't always speak crassly, not out of her second language. the words hungry and making her shiver. the teeth biting down in a lovely spot that her lover found. that mai picked out in a tender mark of teeth against it, her sweet sighs are shaky. the softness of her moans echoing against the walls. no, she wasn't wrong. cellinia speaks and purrs out the words she wants to say in it and never says what they mean.
that mai was right, her body betrays her in her silence on the matter in how she shudders at the slow stroke of her clit. the delicious torture, the tease of it in how cellinia doesn't struggle in her surrender. does she say it for her? speak out that poetry she hides behind in utter reverence now and tip them over further, further down in their hearts threatening to swallow them and not let go?) Do you....want me to tell you more words, that you want to know the meaning of? (does she want to hear sweet poetry, something that would add more to the mistakes they've made? in their frustratingly and alluring sound, their temptation and honestly.)
Any words....that you want to know, that you want to hear me say.
[If the downpour that rages within Cellinia-- the deluge that she promises to grace this barren desert with-- could feel as blissful and as cathartic as the hot water streaming upon them from the showerhead, then Mai might find herself wanting to stand under it forever. She would turn her face towards the sky and bask in the distorted relief borne of this tempest, the very same that would wash away a hundred thousand lives in the torrents of its depthless misery. Oh, how Mai would all but beg to be drowned in it herself, only to then offer the storm-bearer the sweetest of kisses in exchange for sparing her life. And with a knowing smile on her lips, she would know that even if the entire world beneath her feet might suffocate in this cruel flood-- even if she might be brought to the brink of death, herself-- Cellinia would draw her back from the depths, completely ruined, but born anew into something more beautiful and cursed.
And perhaps, maybe one day, this rain might even purify her in all of its sin. Imagine that-- these two anguished souls, utterly condemned by this heartless world, sanctified in this strange union. Who would think that these two could be any more than a pair of fools in the throes of their mistakes, one of many in their disappointing lives? Because there is little more foolish than abandoning their responsibilities, their mundane obligations, to sneak away and play at being lovers. Cellinia should have never taunted Mai with salacious fantasies-- and Mai should have never thought herself so bold as to challenge this wolf without considering the consequences that would sweep her up in devoted promises that seem almost too good to be true.
But what do they know? All they're armed with is one another's name, and the molten desire that melts them down with every irrational second that they continue to spend together. All Mai has is that look in Cellinia's eyes, one that threatens to haunt her already, a look that sees something that Mai doesn't. This foolish wolf wants to belong to her, she thinks that Mai is someone worth belonging to. And she would almost pity Cellinia for this mistake, the gravest of all that she's making today-- but she is rotten enough to revel in it, pretend that it's the real thing, not even realizing that it will be.
Mai doesn't see those pretty lips mouthing that silent plea to ruin her, but she absolutely hears Cellinia cursing desperately as soon as her teeth sink into that tender skin. It makes her giddy to hear her pretty wolf reduced to such vulgarity, especially after she has made her desires known so beautifully. Oh, but Mai loves it, the way she can make the pendulum swing between these delicious extremes. A beast is still a beast, after all, no matter how enchanting their declarations.
She smiles in delight against the mark she leaves at Cellinia's neck, already on the warpath to ruining her with the hunger of her mouth and the parallel eagerness of her fingers.]
How cute... [ another bite, above Cellinia's shoulder blade this time ] That you still want to give me lessons while I'm trying to teach you a thing or two.
[A very messed-up lesson of Mai's own, in how one should never beg for some pitiful nobody to devastate them as thoroughly as she intends to. It already seems like Cellinia is learning quite well, already, an avid student whether she's aware of it or not. From her sighs and soft moans reverberating so wonderfully, Mai has all the confirmation she needs that Cellinia is more than happy to surrender to the ruin promised with each glide of her fingers, each kiss along her back.]
You can say whatever you want in that pretty tongue of yours. I know it gets you off, losing yourself little by little while you praise me.
[Oh, how she adores the way Cellinia is shuddering in her hold while she continues to work her fingers steadily between her legs. Mai tightens the arm she has at her waist, pressing her body even closer to the wall while she nibbles lazily at the back of her neck and shoulders.]
How about... Mmm, how about telling me how good I'm making you feel, right now? Tell me how happy you are to fall apart for me again.
[Go on, Cellinia, tell your capricious little goddess these things in that foreign tongue of yours. The wolf need not even translate it-- or rather, Mai doesn't think she has it in her to do so, if the girl's cunning fingers have anything to do with it.]
(isn't it always this way? that storm could drown them, it threatens to. it aches to drag them under into constant rain, and more than that. what if they both went under and came back cursed together? that's what would always be a question hanging in the air between the girls. that someone could want this is the frightening thing in how cellinia chases it. they were playing at it, pretending that for a day this is something more and not realizing the more they speak alone is causing them to fall harder. harder, harder, and harder. they're only unable to see it because neither side has come to realize what was happening. the beast hasn't, and she's the one that told her, to ruin her. give her a sweet nightmare, a sweet haunting full of cursed desires. make her dream of her voice, of mai's lips and her face. that beautiful pale skin she marked so thoroughly earlier in that want to mark her body.
she can't help it, not the way she moans for her. not the way that tightening coil in her belly thrums from how close she's starting to get from slow torture alone. ruin her, lover. make her fall for you so hard in the future she'd give you the world. that she'd whisper feelings she never told another soul. get them from her pretty lips as she's pinned to the wall more. the wolf's head pressed to half look at mai now. she's trying to not dig her nails into the tile. cellinia even attempts to keep herself steady, but it's obvious she would let go soon. sooner rather than later. under the hot water that streams down on them.
she has a name, a name that's beautiful in it's meaning. the meaning of it being heaven, the moon. doesn't it suit her? this pretty wolf that her lover touches so much. she's receptive to that touch, to mai's hands and teeth along her body. that they're both so torn apart by the world they dare to dream about this being the real thing. that someone like cellinia could dare to taunt her into ruining her. that she was desperate to be ruined and ruin her in how those amber eyes are searing in their burn. a bright burn that doesn't fade, so tantalizing in how they beg for it. beg for her lips and teeth along this body in its scars. this body her lover considers perfect, a work of art for her touch.
they don't even have anything more than a name, their desire, their faces memorized. she curses, she utters them at the sensation of teeth. that bite down into her back as her lover carries on this warpath. this ever-growing demand to satisfy a hunger within for herself. cellinia's sighs become sharper for her. shaky, her moans a better song than the music she would play in the car and at home from a dislike for the silence of both. from that need for something to cover it up, the way it gnaws at her mind.
how lonely her wolf must be, must have been without her in her life. how lonely she must be to demand it; for them to be tied together at their very core whenever she near misses it. how mai calls it cute of her to want to speak like that. that she wants to whisper such sweet words, sweet cravings dripping in poisonous sin and promises. affections that both girls would never grow tired of wanting, demanding.)
Toccami....solo così. Voglio che la tua bocca mi perseguiti, voglio che i tuoi occhi non mi lascino mai.(she has to pause, a shudder again while attempting to get her mind together. she wants to try and tell her goddess what she wants to say. what she said. maybe she is terrible at conveying it, everything to do with it. but the lazy nibbles, how her little goddess asked for it did make cellinia want to try.) T-touch me....just like this. I want your mouth to haunt me, I want your eyes to never leave me.
(the words are hissed out, unrestrained in their desires. the want within them. give it to her, little red riding hood. she didn't care how terrible of an idea this is. this was for both sides as they left behind mundane and boring lives for a moment they were anything but that. she can only offer those heated whispers of words far too beautiful for girls like them who were destroyed by the world, offer that sweetness which many would kill for themselves so freely.
this poison that she feels mixed into the heat of passion that both girls ignored, desiring not the antidote of their afflictions. they only wanted that tender cruelty that would break them apart and take more while cursing them further into being shadows of their former selves. torn apart, beautiful, and jaded.)
Voglio ricordare te e il tuo corpo, le tue grida. Il modo in cui gemi per me, il modo in cui io gemo per te....(another shaky pause, another moment of her claws scratching to tiles. it's harder to translate now than it is to talk with how frayed her mind is and yet....) I want to remember you and your body, your cries. The way you moan for me, the way I moan for you....
(oh cellinia, one day you might stop digging yourself further down in your sins. or you might never, she only knows she feels it so strongly. something she can't put a finger on, something that makes her want more than they both could have dreamed of.)
[Is this all it takes to ruin her precious little wolf? Is she going to fall apart so soon, just from Mai's fingers alone rubbing slow, wet circles into that pretty nub of flesh? She really is such a fragile little thing, isn't she, when Mai has her pinned like this? Where is that big bad wolf, now? From all of that tough talk at the beginning, of how she's difficult to tame, she's clearly melting quite easily at being touched like this. Doesn't anyone else give this you, pretty wolf? Because to Mai, it certainly doesn't feel like it. In fact, it feels like the woman in her hold is so starved and needy that it puts Mai's own emptiness to shame. Ah-- what would Mai think if she had any inkling of the loneliness that must be consuming her darling wolf, devouring her to the point where she'd surrender herself to the physical demands of a cruel and greedy girl? Perhaps a better person would want to coax away that loneliness with a kinder touch that subtly conveys a mirrored understanding of the anguish.
So, Mai should be more tender with Cellinia, then, shouldn't she? To surmise that a lover might be bereft of something so easily given in this moment, wouldn't it be far more kind to be gentle, whisper soothing sweet nothings while ushering in the deep relief that accompanies release? When Cellinia turns her face just a bit, her cheek pressed to the tile and her eyes seeking out Mai's, the girl can imagine she sees the flames of a certain kind of desperation dancing in their depths. The way that Cellinia's groans become more drawn-out, more shaky and breathless against the soothing sound of the falling water, causes a needy ache of Mai's own grow between her hips. The wolf wants her eyes to never leave her, does she? That's fine-- their position will leave no room for Cellinia to hide those wonderful expressions from Mai's ravenous stare.
And that's when Mai comes to a surprising conclusion-- she will be kind to Cellinia, even if it's not in the way that a lover ought to be. She'll be good to her in the way that twisted sinners like them deserve, breaking her down sweetly with the hands of someone who knows exactly how to do it. After all, that's the way to tame a beast-- not with a sadistic superiority that crushes her underfoot, but with a tender cruelty that leaves her so euphoric that she'll seek out sanctuary in the poisoned affection of a new master.]
Aww, thank you for teaching me. You're such a good girl...
[Her praise is sincere, even if her gratitude is practically sopping with sarcasm. She wants to make sure that Cellinia gets both, after all. She's earned the praise from shuddering so perfectly whenever Mai strokes her just right, all while making a visible effort to keep her wits about her. 'Touch me... just like this.' Very well-- Mai is only too happy to keep up her good work. Cellinia is just so deliciously sensitive for her, after all. She really wouldn't mind playing with her all night... The prettiest of toys for a girl like Mai, who would explore every inch of her in an effort to really see what she's made of. Call it a force of habit thanks to her training, with her learning the composition of something thoroughly enough to recreate it. Thankfully, she's not restricted by her dismal cursed energy here-- there's no limit to the ecstasy she wants to craft for Cellinia before their time is up.]
Maybe too good, though, since you're still talking...
[Satisfied with the tiny marks her nibbles have left (and in a place that Cellinia would need a mirror to properly appreciate), Mai raises her head to kiss her cheek, her eyes still holding her lover's gaze firmly as she pulls away. Ah, how gorgeous, the searing look within her wolf's eyes, that plea for more, more until she finally reaches that peak. Hm... ]
But, tell me, Cellinia, because I really have to know--
[And right when she knows she has her, Mai stills her movements. It's there, that faint throbbing against her touch as she still cradles Cellinia's clit in her fingers. A familiar self-satisfied smile finds itself on Mai's lips again before she continues her light taunting.]
Just how are you gonna make me cry out for you after I've ruined you completely? You think I'll really let you have that chance?
[She rests her chin atop Cellinia's shoulder, stroking her stomach with the hand around her waist while her other hand remains painfully motionless. Goodness, her nerves are really frayed, aren't they? Cellinia is steadily losing her mind, like this, and Mai can't get enough of neither the sight nor the feeling of the absolute sin she's concocting for the both of them.]
(maybe. with cellinia it was never that easy to tell, she could have been talking big. or another thought, she's restraining herself again. restraining the parts of herself that wants to come out against her wishes; she's every bit some manner of beast no matter how she's taking this lesson. a lesson in which mai might be pushing too close to the sun against instincts. if her other goal was to stir it again, she's on the way there. bringing out something that should never be touched again without considering the consequences. there's no way around that now, is there? the idea that she could get that opportunity to stir that wild beast by touching her in a torturous pace. working her into that slow torture of touch and wanting more than they'd ever both be satisfied by in their hunger and the raging pit of their greed.
which comes as no surprise, her claws scratch the tiles at the light taunts mixed with gratitude. scratches against the surface of them, any deeper, and they'd near break the damn things in an afterthought on what could come from that kind of reaction. that's that issue of going for something teetering often between civilized and uncivilized. all it takes is something to press into buried down instincts, buried down everything. cellinia so happens to have worse than some might have ever expected. not just her instincts, but her everything. the violence that she abandoned, the need for that rush of adrenaline she could get from doing something terrible. something as terrible as her speeding, her fights, the nights she went out to clubs at the behest of friends. each too willing to drag her out, some even concerned about the sight of her after she drinks.
but she's not drunk, she's not even sure what she is. that lonely void is large and never-ending. this storm within her, threatening at the eye of it in every means that it had. cellinia's eyes seem to keep that fire, that searing desperation. that something else within them from the stirring of more bestial instincts as mai's lips press against her cheek. she asked for this, she wanted this. she wanted to be ruined thoroughly, she wants to equally ruin in kind by whatever means she could. in that pretty mouth, in those claws of hers that she refrains from using more than her teeth. a funny thought, something like her can force herself into not raking lines into pale skin that could have stung something fierce and beautifully as extras to the teeth she left.
that praise isn't lost on her, that way she said it even with the way it drips sarcasm and how satisfied this girl must be. at the idea that she could have her like this, the lonesome beast who growls when mai's hand stops. when that taunt leaves her lips, the sight of her pleased with herself while cellinia stills herself. that throbbing ache is painful, she's been losing her mind the more this goes on. slow torture. a lot of slow torture and that feeling of her lover's hand running along her toned stomach. she almost swore she caught a familiar scent, a scent of need of her lover's own.
that tortured look, it becomes something else. tortured, ravenous, and maybe too hungry for anyone sane. anyone would know, they shouldn't try to reason with a wolf. they shouldn't even try to touch a wolf this way without some manner of expectations that it'd get bad for them when mixed with taunts. this could even be another way of ruin, another to set her on the path. it doesn't take her much, it doesn't to get her to react and shift their positions. with mai against the glass instead of the tiles. oh, that look in her eyes must be positively delicious. that snarl, that way she isn't talking.
something teetering feral, something less than gentle in how she responded. isn't it beautiful? this is a beast. this is what they're often warned about, and all of this wolf is for this goddess and her tender cruelty. that poisonous desire she offers the beast, her wolf. her beautiful wolf that she wants to decorate the body of. make a claim of her own about, the toned muscle and how she presses them firmly to the glass beneath the warm water. it didn't feel like it was cleaning them, it only felt as though it's adding more to this now raging fire that's started to thrum in her veins.)
Didn't I say that I want to ruin you too, Mai?
(how it rumbles out of her throat lowly, her lover's name. something violent, something like a purr in those growls. their fathers would surely hate this more. that mai could stir something so "uncivilized" in this golden child. in a snarl of teeth and their bodies. is this what her goddess wanted to see? that wild part of her stirring for her pleasure? this twisted affection a beast could only have when it comes to their lover's and those they want to make theirs?
because she has indeed earned this sight. from that beautiful and searing look of wildness in her amber eyes to everything about it.)
[Now, was it truly Mai's intention to stir up those feral instincts in her lover? It's more apt to say that it's simply an inevitable consequence of the kind of taunting she enjoys doling out-- especially to someone who was practically begging for it! What else is Mai to do with such an appealing request, other than to give it her all in away that only she is able to? Really, if Cellinia was aware of how little Mai tried at anything of importance in her life, she might even feel honored at the concentrated efforts she was putting into fulfilling her plea to be touched and haunted and ruined. This might be the only thing she could ever take so seriously, consequences be damned.
After all, she knows perfectly well that she has a veritable beast at her fingertips. Mai knew the moment Cellinia complained about that oaf confusing a wolf for a cursed spirit, and those sneaky wheels in her head really began to turn once she got that first picture. Honestly, Cellinia, what is all of this but your own consequences for piquing the interest of one very bored and very lonely girl? She very well could have been a professional courier and let Mai's flirtations die off without a response, but look at her, now-- trapped under Mai's hot gaze, tortured by her soft fingers, riled up more and more by her teasing remarks. Here she is, offering this girl the sweetest of phrases, such gallant promises, all while Mai chews them up greedily as fuel for her own merciless endeavors to make her noble little wolf crumble completely for her.
Oh--! But when she feels herself pushed away from her very comfortable place behind Cellinia and now pressed firmly against the glass of the shower, Mai can plainly see that her ruinous path is cut short. What was the last straw, she wonders with a smug look on her face. Was she doing too good of a job at delivering her the devastation she was asking for? She doesn't regret it, not a single bit, that she might have taken it a step too far with ceasing her touch right as Cellinia was so close to coming undone for her. Too bad-- for Cellinia. Mai's fingers miss her already... ]
Mm. I might remember you saying that.
[Goodness, the way she snarls her name really does something to Mai, doesn't it? It makes her feel like she's on fire, the heat blazing in the pit of her stomach raring to lick its way up until it engulfs her very heart. She likes it quite a bit, even more than those pretty foreign pet names that she's still mostly in the dark about. But nothing sounds better than hearing her own name uttered in a way that promises something at once dangerous and delightful. And she won't ask her to say it again, not yet-- perhaps once they're in bed and Mai has the upper hand again-- but it's already burned itself into her mind. Before today, her name might as well have been synonymous with disgrace, disappointment, and annoyance. When had anyone ever said her name like this? Ah, well, she has no desire to find out if anyone else could ever utter it in the same way.]
But I wasn't finished with you, yet. You're really just gonna barge in and take over?
[And it is a sight that so thoroughly delights Mai, witnessing an untamed fire of Cellinia's own, blazing in the heat of her stare. Maybe it isn't so terrible, losing her chance to keep edging and torturing her darling wolf. But, Mai's hands are so empty now, and lonely for more of Cellinia's body after having the opportunity yanked away so rudely. They find their place at her hips, gripping into the flesh with a marked harshness that will undoubtedly leave deep red crescents from her nails.
The two of them look so splendid beneath the stream from the shower, with water collecting heavily at their hair and spilling down their faces in glimmering rivulets. No, it certainly isn't doing much to clean them when they're this committed to messing one another up even more. Nor does it even bother to quench the passionate fire already in the throes of suffocating them entirely. Maybe this entire shower adventure was a terrible idea... But the way Cellinia's wet body feels against Mai's does enough to outright reject that train of thought.]
I liked you better when you had manners, Cellinia. Guess I'll just have to be a little meaner to you whenever you're done trying to ruin me, huh?
[Did Cellinia think she could frighten Mai into submission like this? She should have known from the beginning that any girl who willingly follows a wolf into its lair is a terror all her own.]
(maybe she did do it a little bit too well, but it's nicer seeing her like this isn't it? how driving her to ruin could drag out something so delicious for her, something so tantalizing. the shower was a bad idea. it didn't matter how much of one it was, between the feeling of their bodies together and how cellinia herself showing her lover something more. something more from her darling wolf when mai digs her nails into her hips, she presses them closer. all it would take is the right grind, the right push to tip her over more from their closeness. cellinia shows it too well when she gets this way. it didn't matter if it was only her name said, maybe she should stop using those pretty words. she isn't that silver wolf and her sharp twisted grin. she's something more dangerous in her own way.
she could have been professional, but everything was tempting. the way she twisted into her and pressed her buttons. how mai even promised things herself. that had no denial in the way she ignored professionalism. cellinia could only blame herself more for this. the way they're both in some ways at fault for the mistakes they're making together; the lines raked into her hips feels too good. when was the last time someone got a bit rougher with her? someone that wasn't obsessed with her and wanting to kill her at the same time as being in love with her for a morbid lover's suicide. both dying by one anothers hand.
she growls again, ah, mai might find it hotter of her. she might even want more of it. how she growls, how she responds to the nails digging into her hips like it's among pleasures she rarely gets. she misses her fingers too, how they felt torturing her so thoroughly. her manners coming up causes the wolf to snarl again. teeth shown to her lover with her own hands not as freed in how they press to the glass beside mai. they can wind up in her bed if they wanted to, but both sides are far too stubborn and lit on fire in other means to think about it.
or to care much about the idea of soggy sheets, the two of them wet and tangled, while mai takes that opportunity to do whatever else she's thinking about doing to her. she really should have held back more, but cellinia finds that even difficult when it comes to her lover already.)
I do have manners, Mai, but even I can get impatient. Or are you going to tie my hands together after while you torture me so sweetly more?
(there it is again, the way her name rumbles out of her mouth. like something fierce. something feral, she likes this about her. the way she's a terror and pushes her further. she wouldn't be doing this if she disliked it. it's obvious. she's got the full attention of a wolf and how she's hungry, how that tongue of hers licks her chops as warm water curtains them and soaks them. this is only fueling that need for sins of their own. she wants to be haunted, she wants to be ruined. cellinia even wants to drag her down with her. her darling wolf is so easy to torture, so easy to press into her own desire for whatever path they're after. they're a mess. internally and outwardly. a mess in how they shouldn't be doing this.
yet here they are with the wolf, looking almost as if mai could tip her over however she pleases. coming undone all for her, like the wild animal she is or beneath her as her lover takes control from her thoroughly.)
That sweet cruelty of yours, I can't get enough of it while you keep pushing it further and further. Don't you hold back on me, I won't on you too, Mai.
(if she demands more, cellinia would give it. if she wants to see her let loose, wildly and free then she will. her lips soon find themselves pressed to mai's. there's a roughness to the kiss, not too rough and not too gentle. a balance to that harshness. she doesn't want to not respond in kind to that cruelty, by giving her something exciting to go with it. she did provoke her and that smug face....ah, she loves that too much, too.)
That face of yours, like you think you won....come on, give me more of it. I want to see it when you take more of me as being yours.
(somewhere her father is turning in his grave more, and maybe her grandfather is. how the mighty have fallen, truly. the pride and joy of one family must have lost her mind to go that far. although, maybe less her grandfather turning over the idea. that man has always been accepting of her and her choices.)
Mmm, impatience looks good on you, though. Has anyone ever told you that? Or do they not get to live long enough to tell the tale?
[There she goes again, pushing Cellinia's buttons with a false pivot into affection. The hands at her hips digging even more tightly betray whatever sweetness dances upon her words and lurks within her smile. Still, Mai isn't lying-- she's the type to get her kicks far too often from dragging another to the point of frustration. A shame that it's a wickedness that was never properly disciplined out of her, though maybe the bigger shame is that whatever survival instinct that should warn her against taunting wild beasts is overridden by this wicked streak. Cellinia can bare her teeth in those attractive growls that Mai draws from her in that impatience, she can even cage Mai in against the glass, her eyes flashing wildly while her tongue licks her lips with a palpable danger. The fear is there, after all, though far from the proper kind that would have Mai running away as fast as her human body can take her. Rather, it's a messed up kind of adrenaline rush that keeps her wanting to play the delectable prey offering herself up to the beast's mouth only to snatch herself back and start the chase all over again.
Cellinia's appealing offer to stop her from using her hands causes Mai to giggle mirthfully. It's appealing, isn't it? The manner in which the wolf gives herself up to be restrained, all the while Mai can still use her hands however she pleases. Like now, as she slowly, slowly rakes her fingers up from Cellinia's hips, up her sides, savoring how her nails scrape against the wet flesh at her mercy. Silly little wolf-- don't you see that Mai is the one who needs her hands tied? Or maybe she understands it all too well, and is surrendering even deeper to those sweet cruelties that she's oh so addicted to... ]
Careful, now-- asking me to tie you up. What if I forget to let you go? Poor thing, you might even starve to death unless I remember to come back for you.
[And then Mai thinks on it-- and her train of thought is all too obvious on her face. She wears a look that all but says that maybe she should do it, tie Cellinia up and really, really ruin her. Could she do it? Could she bring this proud, dangerous wolf to a place she can't return from? Mai was almost fooled into thinking that they had reached that point several times up until this moment-- but now, staring back into the lustful eyes of the woman before her, she catches a sliver of light behind a door she wasn't aware of before. And now, there's a budding fear she is almost hesitant to entertain. What then, should her wolf break free? Perhaps she would hunt Mai down, blind to everything but the revenge of pleasure she would enact in return upon this foolish human. It would be a promise fulfilled, one that would drag them both to an inescapable ruin. How delightful.
Mai isn't caught off guard entirely by Cellinia's insistence on a kiss, and from the moment their lips meet, she can feel the aching impatience that compels her wolf to seek her kiss out once again. It tastes different from their earlier passions, insatiable in a more ruinous way, tempered by a yearning that doesn't draw its strength from a lover's kindness. It tastes like Cellinia is nearing her breaking point, and when Mai realizes this, she laughs into their kiss, pulling back to let her amusement really spill free.]
'Think' I've won? You're funny-- I know I've won. Just look at you, trying so hard to be tough with me, when you just can't help but beg for me to domesticate you in the same breath.
[She sneers with more than a touch of derision, freeing one hand to grasp at Cellinia's hair and pull her back, keeping her from satiating her need for another kiss. She can tell that her wolf wants more so badly. What better way to discipline her than deprive her of such a treat?]
You know-- I don't have to do anything more than this, do I? Because it looks like you're already mine, and all I had to do was touch and kiss you a little. Are all wolves as easy as you are, Cellinia? Or did I just luck out with the most desperate pup of the litter?
[And she laughs again, almost drunk with the power she thinks she has over Cellinia right now. The hand at her head brings her closer, closer, almost close enough for another kiss-- but instead Mai darts her tongue out to run against Cellinia's lips in a merciless taunt.]
Tch, nobody has. They're either running away like pathetic weaklings or too scared to talk after I'm through with them.
(how blunt of her, but she isn't wrong. nobody has said this to her. there are no mentions of deaths at her hands, though it's obvious by looking at her now, isn't it? she's got that look to her. that air to her that says this wolf has taken lives, plenty of lives. her tone shows plenty on what she thinks of those foolish enough to bite off more than they could chew and then turning tail to run, the bite to it. the growl blanketing those words. how many have tried to keep up with her, how many have failed? are they even alive? that's the answers that nobody knows. answers that cellinia would never give out to anyone. only one person has done more than her fair share to this wolf, she isn't here. she would have been laughing loudly at their back and forth like it were entertainment to her. because that twisted silver wolf and her blackened heart knows this one too well; she knows her to the point she'd even mention everything all casual.
like a game to her. twisting, untwisting, unraveling and reveling in it. she'd tell stories that would make girls like mai half delight or half fear the depth of misery in all of them. she'd find it amusing. watching the way they twist, their similarities like something special while taunting that mai could never understand cellinia the way she does. but that woman has yet to show again her face. the twisted smile and her blackened desires of taking what she deemed rightfully as hers. she would never tell mai about her, not about their history. how it threatens to take her by the throat and drag her down.
another snarl, the bearing of those teeth. the moment her head is pulled back away by her hair from their kiss, the growling is louder. a rather frightening purr. something that threatens to ruin them both the more she's pressed into. the wolf is such an unusual girl, isn't she? her wolf who has those little thoughts and desires, her wolf who wants so badly to mark her proper as her mate. this fast, this soon. what a mess she is with those thoughts and her own desires. to want these sweet cruelties and more done to her. this twisted affection they're both sharing and indulging in together. what a beast, what a shame of a parentage that had done so much for cellinia. she should be the one being the responsible adult, and here she is, with her little red riding hood and goddess not doing any of that.
ignoring responsibility, ignoring all reason to bare those teeth. like she's so badly wanting to latch down somewhere more noticeable and mark this woman more than she knew. what better way to lure it out of her?) You haven't won until I make you mine fully, until I make you my proper mate. (which is true, even as cellinia hisses it out. she hadn't told mai about that and what it means to be her mate. wolves do mostly take one lover and one alone. lappland had been after that from her, but she never could obtain it from cellinia.)
Or is that going to be what you're after? My teeth in you, giving you that pretty mark of teeth deep in your neck and claiming you fully as mine?
(doesn't it sound lovely for their twisted affections? mai would get to be claimed solely by a ravenous beast who would make her family suffer for daring touch her. is that what she could ever dream of? a gallant beast, wild and willing to tear them to pieces for her? the girl bringing this rain down as she touches her, begs so sweetly for her to touch her?
she's not arguing that she can sound desperate, she knows she is. deep down isn't she a mess? they're both seemingly far off from how they wish to be seen. cellinia who tries to be anything but what she once was, mai who avoids others seeing the way she gets treated. which is why cellinia meets that sneer, that sneer with another growl. the echoes of it loud along the walls when mixed in with that expression that lit up at the idea of genuinely tying her down.)
If you want that, I wouldn't let go of you. Not even for a second, the minute I do bite you that way while I touch you....nobody would stop me from having you.
(not even the zen'in, who would surely be displeased that mai had been taken by a wild animal. a mutt. though she's far better than those fucked up excuses of misery and abuse in people. too willing to drag down others.
too willing to chain them forever to one spot while laughing.)
[After she's through with them-- is that right? Mai has half a mind to make some smart remark that she would still have it in her to talk back after Cellinia was 'through' with her, but something about the gravity of Cellinia's tone has Mai hold her tongue. In place of her reply is a short hum and a delicate raise of her eyebrows. Sure, the two of them have been far too busy with other important matters to trade stories on the more depressing aspects of their lives. Really-- disappointment, death, and other dreary things have no place in this rendezvous (that's decidedly more than just a measly rendezvous, at this point). And while Mai wears her failures deep beneath her pretty, unblemished skin, Cellinia's battle scars are far more obvious if one gets lucky enough to peek beneath her clothes-- or stand bare beneath a running shower with her.
But, so what if her wolf has enjoyed a bit of blood on those beautifully dangerous teeth of hers? That simply means that whoever dared to challenge Cellinia ended up falling short of what was necessary to fell a beast. They deserve those insults, truly. Though Mai's lover sports a map of scars along her body, what else are they but proof that it takes far more than blades or bullets to keep her down for long? 'Pathetic weaklings,' indeed. Mai has already uncovered the proper way to bring the big bad wolf to her knees, and it isn't with conventional weapons-- amusingly enough, though, Mai's own revolver got to enjoy a bit of action without sparing a single round on its target. Not even Mai herself needed to use whatever scraps of cursed energy she would normally cobble together to claim a triumph.
If only her family could see her, now, but they'd almost certainly recoil in disgust at the scene playing out right here. She can see it clearly-- her mother would hide her face in shame, while her father would rage like a ruthless inferno at his useless daughter teetering on the edge of letting some mangy dog mark its territory on his property. It's hilarious, all of it, from this horrid fantasy of her parents, to the solemn declaration Cellinia makes to fulfill her promise to make Mai hers, that monstrous father of hers be damned.
And so, Mai allows herself to dissolve into a fit of laughter, sharp and incredulous and not directed at any one particular person.]
Mate? Seriously, Cellinia-- you didn't really lure me back to your place so you could try to make me your little wife, did you?
[Just uttering those words herself makes Mai laugh even more-- a truly dangerous feat in the face of a snarling wolf with the last vestiges of self-control fraying in real-time right in front of her.
Mate, wife-- it all means the same thing to Mai, who lived her entire life watching the women in her clan be reduced to nothing more than bedmates and broodmares for their cruel-hearted husbands. She had banked on it being her own future, one day. Surely there was someone out there willing to overlook her lack of talent-- lack of worth, really-- in hopes of marrying a close relation of the clan's head. All anyone really needed was her pretty face and attractive figure. Perhaps her offspring might redeem her, some day. Goodness knows that the same could hardly be said for her own mother. But Cellinia's offer-- or is it a threat?-- truly throws Mai for a loop, for she can't fathom what a she-wolf would want with a human girl for a 'proper mate'. This confusion only serves as fuel for her amusement, and by now, Mai's grip at Cellinia's hair and body loosen even more in her snickering.]
Oh, don't tell me-- you're trying to make an honest woman out of me, now, after screwing me in the back of your car. How noble of you.
[Because if that was all it takes to become promised to someone, be it a wolf or a human, then Mai would have been tied to far lesser mates who dared to enjoy her body on a whim. But in the end, not even they ever bothered to claim her-- she was too far beneath them, when all was said and done, after all. And yet, here Cellinia was, knowing far less about Mai (and her many drawbacks) than any of them, and pledging more to Mai than anyone in this entire world would deign to do. She ought to say no, she ought to laugh in her face and shove her away for playing around with her feelings like this. And yet... the hand tangled in Cellinia's hair merely moves to pet her sharp, drenched ears, a tiny gesture of affection in the face of her caustic tongue.]
And that's how I 'win,' huh? With a scar on my neck and a promise from you to never let me go?
[While Mai's tone sounds cynical, and that sneer on her face only feeding the incredulity at what Cellinia proposes, her eyes are alight with an unmistakable glee. There it is again-- her gallant wolf, trying to play the white knight who would wish to claim her, faults and all. So, Cellinia wouldn't let a single soul prevent her from keeping Mai once she's laid her claim, would she? She has no idea that no one in this pitiful world even wants Mai, she doesn't know that her competition is practically nil. And she doesn't know that, even though they loathe her ever so thoroughly, Mai's clan would rather tear her apart themselves than let a beast attempt to cherish her so tenderly. Cellinia doesn't know the jaws of the real monster she'd have to pry Mai from, even once she's marked her truly for her own. It fills Mai to the brim with a twisted delight, a morbid curiosity to see how right she is, and an even more messed up desire to call Cellinia out on her bluff.]
Do it, then-- I'd love to see you try, anyway. But I don't wanna deal with whatever disappointment you feel when you figure out that this is just a losing deal for you.
[This wolf must have more than a few screws loose, if she's chomping at the bit to lay claim to the Zen'in family's trash. The cruel, embittered part of Mai wants to see Cellinia as merely a starved street mutt digging wherever it can for scraps. But there's another part of her, a part that she often wishes she could smother to death but somehow still resurfaces despite her best efforts-- a part of her that imagines her lover as a dutiful hound with a nose for real treasure. Before, she has cast her eyes upon Mai as if she were a thing of value. Mai can never forget that look, she simply can't. Nevertheless, she'll offer a snarky warning, just in case Cellinia needed a little push to retreat from her lofty proposal.]
Guess you'll just have to learn the hard way, like everyone else does.
(of course she wants to correct her, why would she want to make her an honest woman? nothing about cellinia says she'd like the idea of being tied down to some regular housewife. nothing about her even suits the idea. she's every bit the worst nightmare of someone wanting to play at being a proper wife. so what did it matter? she's the girl that's a nightmare of her own in how she carries and handles herself. some even wonder how she's alive. that attitude of hers doesn't do wonders. it's more a miracle whenever someone can get her to take care of herself without her unusual quirks coming into play. that body should be proof enough that cellinia has dealt with more than she'd ever talk about, but the idea of her wanting mai of all people from what little she's gathered of her to be a housewife? dutiful and everything? it seems like she felt something at that assumption.
because that wasn't what her mind considers a mate, her very definition of it differs from the traditional sense of marriage. this isn't something given lightly. wolves do mostly take one mate for life, and this unusual circumstance between them has stirred up something fierce.) Do you really think someone like me would want one of those women who sits pretty and mundane? That I'd expect someone to change for me after you saw how I looked at your age? (now there's a revelation. indeed, that photo and corpselike look to her? she was the same age as mai. she wouldn't be here if that haunting photo said something without the help she received. that look and demeanor she had, like she was dead. supposed to be dead and dreaming of it as time ticked onward. the fact she pulled herself out of it with others helping her....that's a feat in itself. she had someone willing to not give up on her.
it's as if she's got more than what she shows on the surface going on, those thoughts and nightmares of a past long buried and bloody she tries her hardest to pretend isn't there any longer on her heels. which means, cellinia revealed something else in that unexpected confirmation about the photos. another question for her lover to chew on, does that mean she noticed more than those idiots walking the street while they carried on? did it mean she knew a girl felt dead and sullen, more than she'd ever dare to reveal? what was it that cellinia has dealt with, to cause her to notice? answers are harder to come by than more questions about this mystery presented before her little red riding hood.
enough that mai's own mother and father would have surely called for this beast to die had the truth come out. that mai is facing a bona-fide killer of her own kin. patricide isn't a lofty title, and it's something reserved for those willing to commit such a horrible act. she's not the first that's become a lone wolf by wiping out her entire familiga, she wouldn't be the last. especially not for something as horrific a crime as patricide.)
Nor would it be a scar like you're thinking.
(this isn't a bluff, this is serious. locking them both in a game to go with her request to ruin one another. that the wolf means it. she isn't that type to bluff either, one only has to look in those beautiful amber eyes to know. their sharpness, how they seemingly pierce right through anyone so stupid to challenge her. whatever could it mean? to be the lover of a wolf who carries herself the way cellinia does, it means many things. that she felt she desires them to that length. she doesn't deny this as she finds it difficult to not consider the possibility of it happening by first sight. could this be something as warped as a twisted love affair in the making between them? one that could surely end in blood if they were found?
but that's the frightening thing! the stakes would only grow higher, who knows how long before it sets in how much realer this is getting for her wolf. because she isn't retreating, that look in her eyes suggests plenty on that. when she wants something, she chases it. when she desires someone too, she wouldn't give up. that was nothing to her. which brings the bigger and more frightening question, would she stay? would she show her how much of a treasure this woman is by becoming her lover fully, going beyond those lesser women who dared to even try? since cellinia is far more different than them. that air of chivalry aside, everything about her oozes something more than she'd ever reveal to anyone.
past what few bits and pieces she speaks of freely in odd remarks and concerning commentary given about her old life. what even was she before? that's what would never be said. what an oddity her wolf is, a frightening thing when someone gets far enough to almost touch it.)
I only said that it's your win if I do it, if I completely mark you. Somewhere on that pretty skin of yours. Or are you backing out now to retreat at the idea of it happening?
(from the earlier remark, it should be obvious what she thinks of cowards. weak. not even worth her effort, not worth any bit of her gaze on them. nor were they worth her time in general, all they were had been people she killed quickly then left. for those who didn't get away from her in a fight, anyway. anyone else? she would ignore them and go about her day without any words. nothing but cordial while maintaining her distance.
though that also makes it amusing, cellinia would have thought that about mai's very own family. mai was the one who followed her into the wolves den. that means she does think somewhat differently about her, enough to respect her and think she's got more guts than anyone in that damn household. who is crazy enough to follow the big bad wolf into their den, anyway? girls with nothing to lose, just like the wolf herself who's ears twitched into her soft fingers.)
Because here I thought you were ballsy to taunt me, to keep pushing me the way you are like you got nothing to lose. So come on, try and tame me into making you mine fully, Mai.
(once again, her name is purred out that way her lover likes. a challenge, a risky one. who knows what would happen at the end of it....if they're even alive and survive that long. because in their worlds, that's always the risk.)
You know-- anyone worth their salt would kill for a dutiful little wife.
[That is to say, they would be completely disappointed with someone like Mai if they were ever saddled with her in some pointless, lifelong union. Sure, she can know her place for a while, play along with her assigned role until she starts to get cagey and decides to mouth off. And anyone worth their salt would swiftly remind her of what she is and who she belongs to.]
Someone like you, though? I don't know a thing about you, other than that you're a bored little wolf with nothing better to do than snatch up girls to eat.
[And that those wolfish eyes are frighteningly capable of boring into her soul with a devotion that Mai has never seen in any human she's had the misfortune of knowing. Now, though, those same eyes taunt her with the same ruthlessness Mai was so comfortable doling out. How bitter this medicine tastes when forced upon her to swallow, this time. And she loathes it, oh, how annoyingly frustrated it makes her feel to feel the upper hand slipping. She'd rather Cellinia return to looking at her with a misplaced adoration without expecting anything in return-- but it looks like she's caught on to Mai's greedy antics, and is coming to collect.]
But I guess you cleaned up okay, didn't you? If we're talking about people with nothing left to lose, you really had me beat, there.
[That photo is brought to the forefront of her mind again, the misery and emptiness in that Cellinia's eyes making her feel more than just a little bit of empathy. At least Mai has the decency to give a tough front, a snarky and prickly facade, despite her own anguish tethering her to the depths of its void. At least Mai has enough pride to never let the world see her own damning loneliness, let alone allow it to be immortalized in a photo. That Cellinia was no older than Mai and dared not hide how dismal she felt her existence was, even going so far as to keep it as a reminder for any guests to see and judge-- it almost makes Mai feel disgusted on Cellinia's behalf. Almost. She holds her tongue, knowing better than to make any further acidic remarks on a past she has no clue about.
Interesting though, what a far cry from that girl Cellinia is, now. It does beg the question if the wolf became any more well-adjusted after existing as a living corpse. Considering where the two of them find themselves, currently, perhaps the answer to that question is more than a bit complex-- or maybe the answer is simply a resounding 'no.' ]
Funny, though-- earlier you were so adamant about belonging to me, but I don't hear any of that anymore when you're talking about me 'winning' whatever this is. You think I'm the type to back down after I've gotten this far? Don't forget-- I know how to get you right where I want you.
[She hates it, the tone of those words and the insinuation behind them. That Cellinia would look upon her with ridicule should she back off at this point in their morbid little game, rather than with the poisonous worship she's tempted Mai with-- oh, that really fuels this swell of annoyance in her. More than that, though, it makes the desperate and clingy part of her want to meet that challenge with everything she can muster, just so she can steal back that intoxicating adoration and never let it slip through her fingers again. If she has to try and subdue a violent wolf to get her way, she won't shy away with getting a little bloody, herself.]
You can talk tough all you want, Cellinia, but you're not fooling me. When I win, it'll be when I've ruined you. And you'll be so broken in that you're not even gonna be thinking about marking me as a mate.
[She draws out that last word with a mocking lilt to her voice, eyeing Cellinia like this honorable offer of hers means so little to Mai. Show her exactly what being chosen for a mate is worth, pretty wolf. Slash away this troublesome girl's ignorance of what she's falling deeper and deeper into with every second she doesn't back away from Cellinia's risky challenge. Because Mai still has some fight in her, after all, despite every warning and survival instinct begging her to retreat from the beast's lair.]
So, then-- are you in that much of a hurry for me to tame you? Or can I squeeze a few more manners out of you so I can finish my shower?
(because she isn't them, she won't be. what she is, is something else entirely. they're all fortunate that she never did become that dutiful wife her father wanted to be; she never would have survived it for long. not from those raging instincts, the desire for violence. that underlying urge for it. she's a natural-born prodigy of something as frightening as death and dealing it in how she can change her demeanor into being anything but normal. that side of her that she always tries to keep further down away from others. nobody needed to see her like the way she had been before; that wolf who would have taken lives mercilessly. it didn't matter if nobody knew about her being this terrible. not even about the cause of the sickness, the cause of her own tiredness. she's here, she's freed from all of it. or that's what the wolf has often told herself.
which is why she finds it easy to call out others, she knows too well some things. she's proof enough of someone being worse off than she'd care to admit. but that didn't mean those taunting eyes and their ruthlessness didn't have that devotion to them. because she does this exactly due to those confusing feelings. admiration, devotion, and worship of a girl that has never had it once in her life. how much of it does she understand? don't you care to find out and learn now, lover? how she would make your family pay, how she'd while covered in blood kiss you so sweetly? why not the idea of her granting you that freedom she took by force?
there is so much more underneath it, that intoxicating adoration is only the beginning in how serious her gaze is. the sight of her issuing a challenge so fiercely. whatever is this to anyone else? they'd never understand the feelings a beast like her could ever have when met with someone that has suffered anguish that reaches down into her very soul. the agony that she knows all too well when mai speaks about it. about her in those photos again.)
You're right. I had absolutely nothing.
(another bone chilling admission. what did she mean by that? surely someone like her would have had people to rely on, people that cared about her to that point. right? the answer to that won't be mentioned. her sole saving grace came from one concerned beast, and that was that. nobody cared about the sole survivor. she who burned everything in fire then left behind the corpses in blood, in the rain that she smells so thickly of often.
but she says nothing more on it, she won't. what she instead does is reach to take mai's other hand. her own so very rough, so worn and having had taken so many lives. she does this because she won't elaborate, with the way her lips press to the top of it like something half chivalrous, half not. devoted and wild, two halves that would always exist of this wolf. the pretty wolf who would not back down from the promised challenge she gives her lover. she wouldn't just show her, she'd teach her what it means to belong to someone like her.)
I'll ruin you beautifully in kind, Mai. Don't even doubt that for a second.
(no, that tone says this is a promise. another vow, devoted and more than that. she would ruin this goddess beautifully. even as she steps away from pinning her, her hand holding mai's while she pulls her in closely. like she wants to whisper a secret, but the reality is more than that. she wants to touch and be touched in kind. those searing eyes are all hers, the fire that burns in them and everything. nobody has gotten these reactions from the wolf, so perhaps mai can say she's on the right track.)
Then touch me, I'll burn your body in my mind as you do mine for this.
(come on, pretty goddess, she'll make you feel like you belong and more.)
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no subject
Date: 2025-03-16 08:37 am (UTC)without that, cellinia would not be standing here. she wouldn't be alive. death would have come for her sooner as that saying remains. lone wolves do not last long for a reason. they're expected to die, expected to lose their lives for any number of reasons while the pack itself carries on. cellinia did have it in her to have a faint flush across her cheeks, nothing prominent. the other girls can't say they've seen her like this. not how she's standing there and even going over in her mind what she might like to see mai in most of her wardrobe.
or that had been the idea, until she pauses her search. to relax into her arms, that urge to kiss her lover is back again. how easy it would be to turn her head and do just that, she finds herself addicted to her lips already. cellinia even was comfortable to let her lover take hold of her, to rest her chin against her shoulder. mai is the slightly taller one of them, from what she's realized. not that the wolf minds it, though she has a feeling her lover might enjoy the idea of cellinia having to lean up a bit to kiss her. that she also has to reach up and take hold of her face like that to tip her head down for any others.
her laughter is a note that cuts through the thoughts more, she wasn't wrong. sooner rather than later, cellinia would remove that shirt she gives her. she even did pull out one of her button ups for her lover, she had worn it recently so it'd carry the most of her scent.)
True. (she murmurs, the thoughts she imagined earlier were there again. of mai borrowing what fits from cellinia's closet and taking it for herself. covering herself in a scent that is mixed of rain and nicotine. the dress shirts tended to tickle her imagination more, anyway. the idea of her lover wearing one and leaving it half undone; bearing skin that would get the attention of this wolf who would have been unable to help herself. her impeccable restraint aside, there's something here that makes cellinia unable to even resist.) I'll find mine then now, the bathroom is at the end of the hall.
(she'll have to show her which room has her utilities in it after, but it should be obvious. there's only one door left that isn't accounted for. cellinia is looking forward to this, somewhere more private with her lover. somewhere they could both not be found at. she doesn't normally bring back any kind of lover to her apartment, at least in the rarer times cellinia responded to those whims of her own. she even isn't the best of flirts from her prickly demeanor, but that was another thing the wolf realizes mai brought out of her. that the flirting felt so natural, so right between them. she couldn't help herself on that point, either. that point where she chased her more in her own way. with an earnestness that suited a wild wolf.
an honesty in her more animalistic desires, she spoke them out like they were poetry of their own.
she'll have to turn off her phone, to be safe. she didn't want to be interrupted by work suddenly because the emperor decided that they were all going to go after some stupid mooks around. he did like to add more to their job descriptions that shouldn't be there, and that also happened to include the girls winding up in fights with local gangsters. others who were making bigger mistakes in messing a little too much with penguin logistics. their rep isn't the greatest thing thanks to that. but they did have a rep for getting their work done regardless of those quirks. cellinia settles for herself finally, with one of her baggy shirts. she didn't need to wear any shorts underneath these and it makes for an easier time to remove.
given that they both know, they can't keep their hands off each other for long. with dress shirt and baggy shirt in hand, cellinia would be in the bathroom soon. she'll likely order them food if it gets to be a bit too late. it isn't as if she minds, sometimes cooking could be a pain whenever the wolf isn't in the mood for it. plus she has a feeling her goddess would want her undivided attention in all the ways her lover could ever have.
....maybe she wants to do that for her too, with giving her that much of her attention throughout the day, the night.)
no subject
Date: 2025-03-17 01:08 am (UTC)Oh, you want me in that, hmm?
[Out of everything that Cellinia might have selected for Mai to wear for her, the simple dress shirt is somewhat of a surprise-- and not an unwelcome one, actually, the more that Mai considers it. She could very well have tossed Mai a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants and called it a day, unbothered by how she might be swimming in the fabric. There's nothing wrong with a casual and comfortable set of clothes to wear while she waits for her uniform to be tidied up-- but at the same time, there's something to be said of having to yank a hoodie over one's head when trying to indulge in some hot and heavy activities. It seems like her lovely wolf has put a bit of thought into this, especially with the implication that she might want to unbutton it herself, treating Mai like a pretty little present to be unwrapped for some fun later on.
She makes no further remarks, and has no complaints whatsoever about Cellinia's choice. It'll be a delight to see those eyes light up when she actually gets to see just how it'll flatter Mai. Certainly something to look forward to.]
All right. See you, then.
[Her parting words are drawn out in a sing-song voice, and she leaves Cellinia with the briefest of kisses upon her shoulder before ambling out of the bedroom. Just before she's out of sight, she casts a flirty smile back at her lover, whose wolfish eyes are sparkling with some manner of imaginative thoughts. Mai hopes that they're of her, is almost certain that they are, and leaves into the hall feeling more than a little pleased with herself.
Just as Cellinia indicates, the bathroom is situated at the end of the hall, behind a door that is slightly ajar. Easy enough to find. Once the light is switched on, Mai can quickly see that this room matches all of the others in this apartment, in that it's sparsely decorated aside from the essentials. There are mostly only towels on the shelves, and basic toiletries on the counter around the sink. It's a stark contrast to Mai's bathroom at her dorm, littered with all kinds of face care products in their eye-catching containers, at least three different colors of nail polish, a makeup bag that she can't close because she keeps shoving more items inside. You can hardly see the counter space beneath all of her girly clutter. Forget her earlier thoughts about Cellinia living like a guy-- it's more apt to say that she lives like Maki. This is almost exactly what Mai pictures her sister's place in the Tokyo dorms to look like, and the thought has her chuckling out loud despite herself.
Charming, but she'd never admit that out loud. Not in a million years.
Once she gets the shower water running, Mai waits for the water to warm up by lingering in front of the mirror again, admiring her reflection. Cellinia has earned the praise for following orders-- Mai can't see any of the bites she had left outside of the fabric of her dark uniform. It's perfect, considering the season, though it does make her mind wander to the possibility of more marks in more places once the weather begins to cool down.
But, now she's curious. Her fingers move to strip off her clothes and undergarments, impatient to reveal the well-hidden bites beneath. As soon ad the last bit of fabric hits the tiled floor, Mai returns her attention to the mirror with eager eyes. Oh, Cellinia's right-- it's indeed the loveliest view. The small blotches of red and violet that litter her pale skin are beautiful, a haphazard trail from her neck to her navel, before the mirror cuts off the rest of the wolf's handiwork. She knows where the rest are, though, the most secret of those marks.
Whenever Cellinia joins her in the bathroom, she'll find Mai trailing her fingers over each pretty bloom with a satisfied expression on her face.]
no subject
Date: 2025-03-17 02:24 am (UTC)good. it's a bit more tenderness between them, she didn't want to pick something too tedious to remove from her lover. she also wanted it to be something her lover would like to be in. easy to remove, easy to get comfortable in, and also even easier for mai to torture cellinia with. which did add into those imaginative thoughts. those thoughts she had when she feels her lover's lips brush up against her shoulder. she did look over mai's way, as expected her eyes were lit up. lit up and watching the way that mai had left. that flirty smile, the sing-song lilt to her voice. it's done more to her. maybe she is hopeless, to want to see it more. to want to hear that flirty tone and her way of smiling when cellinia is doing something that she likes already. but that's too fast. much too fast. then again, they've gone against reason. multiple times, against that and logic while together in how they skipped over steps.
but that's the thing about girls like cellinia, like them. moving fast....that was part of the thrill. whenever they had so little, they'd want it. there isn't any way around that in the way that cellinia chases and chases. all mai has to do is keep offering her the chase they both are enjoying. she'd keep showering her in her worship. in those lips of hers leaving more marks, more bruises, more where her teeth bit down into for her darling lover.
had she heard what her lover thought, she might have been confused. it isn't as though she knows about mai's family (not yet) as it stands between them. but her bathroom did have some cologne in it. subtle scents, nothing too strong due to her senses. too much can be overpowering, but she did enjoy the scent of mai's perfume as a nice little bonus. enough that she doesn't mind being covered more in her scent.
cellinia comes in quietly, with both the dress shirt for mai and that baggy number for herself. that one would be easy for mai's hands to slip under as she pleases. she could even remove it just as easily. that was what cellinia found best for herself. ah, but she did see the way her lover looks pleased in the mirror. how her hands trail along those bruises and the teeth marks she left. she doesn't speak, but cellinia does come up behind her lover after setting aside the clothing they'd both swap into. if only for now, to look over her shoulder as best as she could do. her own hands rest against her hips, a gentle rub into the skin while mai admires her handiwork.
she liked it that much, did she?)
It really is a lovely view....
(as she thought, she wants to leave more. that's unsurprising. she wants to decorate her in as many as mai would wish. to leave them all in those precious spots that only their eyes would know about. that only they'd have been able to see. she likes the idea too much, like marking her lover as solely hers and only hers. making her remember the way that she feels so possessive whenever it comes to her already. because she wants her.
it's another sin, another mistake on their growing list, but she did mean it. that she wants her to be hers. cellinia can't deny that. even if one day a part of her would want to run again.)
I could always leave more if you're not satisfied with only those.
(her lips brush against her shoulder as she speaks, cellinia even looks content breathing in her scent from this close. another part she wants to commit to memory. for this day, for more than this day.)
no subject
Date: 2025-03-17 07:27 am (UTC)Oh, I agree. Bet you've never seen anything this incredible before.
[Of course, Mai won't ask if Cellinia has ever brought home a bitten-up lover before-- or even how many, an even worse question, really! Is there a point in stoking her jealous streak when she's feeling this coveted? Moving too fast, being unreasonable-- all of that can go right out the window when she's the center of attention like this. Forget those silly girls in the photo frames, and forget anyone else who has ever dared to imagine Mai's affections for their own. None of them could ever hope to steal the magnificent spotlight being shone on her right now amidst the wisps of steam from the shower. Not a single one could rob her of the pure joy at feeling so exalted whenever Cellinia gazes upon her like this.
That's the most dangerous part of getting involved with this wolf, the smothered voice of reason tries to squeak in the back of her mind. It's not the hands that could slice Mai to ribbons, now rubbing her hips affectionately; not the mouth that warned her of its hunger in the bites and bruises left in its wake, that precious mouth that currently presses faint kisses against her shoulder. No, the danger lies in those sweet admirations, that polite venturing for permission to bestow upon Mai even more of what she craves. The danger lurks in the fondness that lulls her into a sense of intimacy that she's wholly ignorant of. Any concentrated effort to make herself cold, to distance herself from falling into these strange feelings, is met with a firm resistance-- the antithesis to common sense, surely. It must have started with those promises exchanged, quietly binding them further, an ironclad thread wrapping around the parts of themselves that they would never imagine getting involved in this liaison.
Oh, but the real danger simmers in the way she can almost imagine something deeper between them, in the way that she nearly hopes that this 'something' could be more than just a product of the over-active imagination of a very lonely girl.
Mai likes it, all of it, far too much. There's no other reason why she would permit Cellinia to whisk her away all over the city and its outskirts, no other reason why she'd be the one chasing that addicting feeling of possessing and being possessed.]
Mm, you wanna satisfy me some more, huh?
[That suggestion of Cellinia's is twisted into something a touch more vulgar on Mai's tongue, but the way in which she runs her fingertips over that first bite at her neck makes it obvious that the promise of even more marks is still firmly on her mind.]
I think you missed a few spots, anyway.
[It's not worth the effort to point out where exactly. Cellinia can have her fun exploring Mai's body all over again, and discover those spots for herself.
How pretty she looks, contentedly breathing in her lover's scent as her lips continue grazing against her shoulder. It's a shame that her fading perfume will soon be traded in for the notes Cellinia wears, from her soap to the remnants of cologne lingering upon her dress shirt. Or is it such a shame? After all, it was one of the first things that the wolf admitted to Mai-- that she favors bathing her lovers in her scent, yet another mark of ownership.
Speaking of... ]
But, you know-- I'm the one who's actually falling behind, and that's not fair, is it?
[As much as she enjoys feeling Cellinia holding her like this from behind, Mai feels like seeing more than merely her reflection in the mirror, now. She turns her body entirely to face her and leans back a bit against the counter, displaying herself to Cellinia in all of her bare, marked-up glory. Her hand reaches out to fiddle with one of the straps of her tank top, and her eyebrows raise in a cheeky look that says 'We should get you out of these clothes, already.']
Sorry, but I don't want you looking in the mirror until I'm all finished, got it?
[And, of course, Cellinia will not be leaving the shower without several new marks to show for it.]
no subject
Date: 2025-03-17 05:51 pm (UTC)like something she never had before in the way her fingertips rub into the skin, their callouses a stark contrast again. it's beautiful. this lovely sight. this sight of her lover all for her eyes alone. amber eyes which take in her pretty face. memorizing every detail as another thing. another part of their time spent together and days soon to come as they've both began to think more about it. about that idea that they have someone who causes them to look forward to their upcoming days. their weeks, months. hasn't that always been what girls like them could have ever wanted? someone in their lives they never want to let go of. that they couldn't let go of from an aching desire to have their lover. their lover as only theirs, their body belonging solely to one in possession while cellinia does think about it.)
Best view I could ask for, all for me.
(it's a soft purr, a soft growl for her lover. it's addicting. that urge and that high that comes from it. possessing, owning, and craving. the sights of one another, their bodies a canvas for their touch. a touch of something more in which has them dyed into a certain color that fits one another. marks that bloom across the skin, teeth that bit down into precious places slowly. hands that touch and leave their own markings from the way they grab. like starved beasts, starved girls who had too little of love and tenderness. they could be more like animals themselves. more than anyone else could be in those cravings.
she speaks in soft admiration, she means those tender words is the frightening part. words that would never be said to someone else had cellinia any say in that. she doesn't speak this way. vulnerability would always be her deepest struggle, but it's harder not to be vulnerable piece by piece. a tender drop of her guard that mai has in her hands so sweetly. so closely. all while she marks her body as belonging to a wolf, hers. only hers in all this misery, this sorry excuse for a world which often has hurt them and more than that. she's listening, she's got her eyes on her pretty face with that look in them again.
that hungry look. restrained, but tender. soft, like she knows what they're both waiting on together. what they both want from the rest of their time together. she wouldn't dare let go of her, would she? could cellinia keep this girl in her arms and never once feel that urge again with her instincts, the way it would gnaw at her as time goes on? that she doesn't get this way? it's a mystery, a mystery she can't say she knows or anyone knows.)
I can go over those then when I get a chance to. When you want more of me, bella signora....seems like we're both greedy for it.
(she can't deny that. she did want to satisfy mai more, she wants to leave her feeling lighter than she came to see her as. she wants mai to feel so at ease, to feel free. isn't that fitting for the woman who freed herself to want to not let her lover feel such misery that she knows too well? but enough about that, mai did have a point about their current states. cellinia has left more marks on her body than mai has on cellinia.
the turn of her bared body to face her lover, the lean of her back to the counter while mai grabs the straps of her tank top. she's not going to shy away now, not ever in how the wolf comes closer for her lover. her little red riding hood she runs her hands now along the thighs of idly. those amber eyes are soft, they're something pretty while she has them half full of hunger and something brighter for mai.)
That's right, you said you wanted to leave me a leopard, didn't you?
(but it didn't stop her, not from peppering kisses on mai's neck as she hums it out lowly for her. it's a slow tease, a tender tease because she knows her lover would want to undress her, this time. cellinia had done it earlier for her. it's only fitting she's a good girl for her while mai's soft hands brush against scars. whatever patches of soft skin she has along her upper body, all for mai.)
Come on, dolcezza. I want your hands on me.
(another word, another reminder. at least it wasn't "cara mia", like that wolf would have done in her sharp twisted smiles and own wants for the other one. she wasn't going to call her that so soon. but maybe she can use some other words, some other sweet things until that day comes where she calls her "amante".
her love, her lover.)
no subject
Date: 2025-03-18 01:22 am (UTC)Besides, who needs a white knight, anyway? What a waste of a daydream. This cruel world seems all too happy to hammer the lesson home that no one will come to save a hopeless little girl, no matter how desperately she wishes or how pure-hearted she is. All the better, then, that Mai's heart is the farthest thing from pure. She'd frighten off any well-meaning knight, and look down on them for even trying to show her a picture-perfect ending. They'd recoil from the kind of person she really is-- but a beast wouldn't. This beast doesn't. If she so desired, Cellinia could sink her teeth into Mai's rotten little heart, drink up the juices that would send any would-be knight to his death, and let it fuel that animalistic appetite even further.
After all, what every monster desires is a young girl's heart, no? And the best ones would not even bat an eye at the misery that makes the taste of it bitter-- no, the best kind of monster would relish the taste of despair. They would know how to distort it, corrupt it even further, making that girl unfailingly theirs, never again to seek out some nonexistent fairytale ending. Won't you savor that despair, too, Cellinia? Could you, the day Mai decides that only a beast could deserve her cruel and lonely heart?]
Me? Greedy?
[She feigns offense, or makes a half-decent attempt at it, but the knowing glint in her eyes betrays her from the get-go. It's a trait she's aware of, one she never identifies by name, and hearing Cellinia call her out so casually makes her feel a little liberated. And dangerously so, from the smug smile that tugs at her lips.]
Got me all figured out already, huh?
[This accusation is purred affectionately enough. Though now, with both of them plainly acknowledging that they're not at all interested in self-restraint, it feels easier to let go a little more. Cellinia's hands stroking her thighs-- their familiar place, there-- has Mai melting for her. Pleasant sighs spill from her lips, punctuated by soft hisses and gasps when she feels Cellinia draw herself closer to kiss enthusiastically along her neck. And then, a breathy laugh when Cellinia insists on Mai's hands upon her, in return.]
Look at you-- making demands of me, greedy little pup.
[Ah, there's that slip of her mother tongue, another pretty word that Mai doesn't understand, though she's at least aware enough that Cellinia likes to speak it when uttering sweet nothings to her lover. She won't ask after it, not when she's plenty satisfied with how her wolf's mouth is occupied with kissing her. Well, greedy pups deserve to be rewarded, even when they're demanding. Mai brings her hand to the back of Cellinia's head, finding her hair tie and tugging it free, spilling pretty dark locks down her back and over her shoulders. Her fingers immediately comb through her hair, after giving her fluffy ears a tender stroking, appreciating the way they twitch beneath her touch. Her other hand is already roaming up Cellinia's back, halfway under her tank top, her fingertips trailing up and down her spine.
As much as it pains her to do so, Mai will slightly push her off, but only so that she can yank her top completely over her head. Better. It'll be much more enjoyable to pull Cellinia against her once again, a closer and tighter embrace this time, before kissing her deeply with a low hum of appreciation and unbridled need. It's perfect, feeling their skin flush with one another's. Mai is almost certain she can feel Cellinia's heart thumping against her chest, just as she knows that Cellinia can feel the erratic rhythm of Mai's own in exchange.
After a handful of kisses, Mai pulls away just enough to lower her head and nip firmly at the soft flesh below her lover's jaw. It should compliment the other marks nicely, Mai thinks to herself, while her hands busy themselves with either cupping at Cellinia's breast-- another place Mai has a hankering to nibble some souvenir onto-- and slipping teasingly beneath the waistband of her shorts, her nails digging softly into her hip.]
You're lucky that it really bothers me, leaving a job unfinished.
[The shower should be ready for them, whenever they decide that they've had enough with this warm-up. While Mai isn't in a terrible hurry to rush them, her mind is brimming with all of the places on Cellinia's perfect body that she wants to kiss and suck bruises onto. She imagines that most of her work would be best done atop a bed-- whichever of Cellinia's two beds they'll find themselves on once they've toweled off.]
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Date: 2025-03-18 02:04 am (UTC)they didn't need a knight, they lured in beasts. beasts like her who finds it too easy to drink of this fountain between them. affection that seems to be something only they'd understand, touches that light them on fire. make them feel again because it's evident that the world itself didn't care enough about their lives. only how to destroy them, only how to bring ruin on what once was beautiful souls. lonely girls like her only had to twist the beast themselves into their hands, lure them in further with such sweet promises. the offering of bodies while they give more, so very much more than most would have obtained. their teeth could snap into hearts like mai's, so full of despair and her own lonely desire.
could she ever drink it so deep? she might, she might even have a feast fit for a beast while letting this lonesome girl carve deeper into her body that demand of wanting the beast.
not a knight, only a beast. not a knight alive could withstand the beast who wants a girl like this. they're all so difficult, so terrible to try and kill. that only comes as fact from their suffering, their own agony and despair. they could drown it and nobody would know, just the same way they could drown their poor lover forever with them. but did it matter? what if they wanted to drown, what if they craved to be pulled under this current with their lover and forget about what's hurt them? forgot about the despair, the agony, the ways that nothing ever seemed to fit or go right? would she love that, would you, mai? to drown in that rain your wolf smells strongly of and let go like you both never existed to anyone other than each other?
isn't that all too fitting that they both come apart and decide their agony, their cruelty, is only fit for one another as those thorns cut so deep that nobody else could touch them?)
Greedy....yeah, you like it, you can't get enough of it, can you?
(because she can't. she couldn't, how cellinia murmurs it so heatedly. a fit of fire to that ice in her tone and in her veins. it only gets hotter at her gasps, that breathy laughter when the wolf makes that demand clear. greedy pup, huh? she doesn't like being called one (not usually) but exceptions are something made easily. like now where mai gets that much, an exception from the beast that is comfortable between her legs. that so happens to run her fingers along her bare thighs, trailing along in their rightful place on her body.
one of their rightful places when a shiver runs down her spine at the sensation of her tank top riding up halfway along her back. at her fingertips trailing along her spine and the other hand stroking those fluffy ears after taking her hair down. the twitch of them pleased by mai's hand working a sort of magic into them. she's melting again, but that's not a surprise. not too much of one while cellinia is coaxed back for her lover, to part enough for her and stop running her mouth along her neck for now. she won't complain, she knows why her lover needed her to.
the tank top falls to the floor with ease, cellinia even helping without a second thought before she's pulled in close. the skin flush and her battered body pressed against mai's softer skin. her heart is racing, it's obvious against mai's chest. she can feel how mai's own is hammering from their closeness. the closeness of their tight embrace before the kiss. deep, hungering, not in any rush from how well deserved it is thanks to their waiting earlier. god was it hard, she felt like an addict for her lips. for her kiss in how she needs more of those soft lips, more of her tongue brushing against her own. more of those sounds that she gets fed into them, cellinia even fed mai some of her own for that with each kiss. each growing more hungry, more wanting.)
Can it be helped if I can't get enough of you myself? I like it when you get this way, wanting more and and more. How much do you want those pretty lips of yours on me, dolcezza?
(she's always like this, always. how her head goes back enough to give mai more of that tender flesh she's after, how she moans softly for her. another mark for her to display, another as she shivers again from the sensation of nails teasingly digging into her hip. the soft press of them while her breast is cupped and palmed by her lover. her own hands squeeze into her thighs, not too hard and not too soft. near firm in the way they her claws press gently into them. a light threat, but they both know she wouldn't. not unless her lover willed it.
a light warm up before the shower isn't so bad. the slowness was fine, though cellinia knows not to take too long. they'd run out of warm water before they could get to the better part, the part where mai would decorate her body against her mattress in return for her being a good little beast for her. while breathing out these pretty words, these words she means. these words she wouldn't hold herself back on saying. don't you like it when the beast speaks so freely in her want? how she seems hellbent on making you feel something too more than misery and being numb to it, mai?)
How hungry are you?
no subject
Date: 2025-03-19 03:37 am (UTC)What-- you're gonna cut me off, now? Right when I'm about to have some real fun?
[She draws out this bit of teasing banter. Merciless teasing, rather-- which is all too obvious in the way her eyes lock onto Cellinia's when she pulls away from her neck. Maybe she shouldn't have riled her up, but maybe Cellinia will enjoy the way her own feral nature is rubbing off on Mai, just a little bit. After pressing her back against the wall opposite the sink, Mai takes the hand she has at her chest and slides it up to stroke Cellinia's face affectionately, contrasting against the sharp sensation of her nails in the skin of her hip. When she smiles at her lover, now, the softness belies a cruel pleasure at having her big bad wolf in cage made of beautiful flesh.]
But, of course you like it, though. Those other girls-- [ and she refers to the ones in the pictures that Cellinia has displayed in the main room ] --they don't look like the types who can get you so hot like this.
[Just like this, just where Mai knows that heat burns most passionately. Her eyes never look away the entire time she glides her other hand beneath the waistband of Cellinia's shorts, undoing them just enough to make space for her fingers to dip beneath her panties and touch her lazily in that place her fingers are already well-acquainted with. It's obvious from how wet she is that this craving is starting to become desperate. How lovely, the ease with which Mai can work her up. And yet, Cellinia runs her mouth so brazenly, still! She wants to bait Mai into confessing how much she wants to mark her, taste her, fulfill that promise to leave her wholly claimed by her-- but Mai has other ideas, of course.]
Ha! How much do you want my lips all over your body, Cellinia? You know what? I bet you've been aching for it so badly this entire time. Bet you were thinking of it while you were lapping me up, hoping you'd get your turn soon.
[Her voice drips with the absolute sweetest flavor of mocking. Really, it practically gets her off to taunt Cellinia like this. It'll get her into trouble, surely. But Mai can muster up some proper fearlessness when it suits her. What else is there to do, when neither of them want to back down from the challenge that only seems to mount higher and higher?]
So-- my hands weren't enough for you, hmm? Wanna taste yourself all over my tongue, next-- is that it?
[Satisfied with having stroked her lover just enough-- enough for Mai, definitely not for Cellinia-- Mai withdraws her fingers and brings them to her lips, giving them a single swipe with her tongue. Her eyes are alight with a dark amusement, watching Cellinia in the hopes of seeing something that will only feed that ravenous feeling.]
Guess you're in luck, again-- because I'm starving.
[And Mai decides-- cruel girl that she is-- that she'll make Cellinia beg for it, because she's the prettiest when she's brought to the brink. Forced to restrain herself while her wolfish eyes give her away entirely. There's little Mai finds that she loves more than shattering Cellinia's patience, over and over. She declared that she'd make this beast her own, after all. How else will she make good on that word, other than to take the shreds of bravery in her possession, and forge them into a weapon of pure ecstasy?]
But, I dunno-- should I get on my knees for you, right now? We've got a nice, hot shower waiting for us...
['I can be patient, unlike you,' her cheeky smile seems to say.]
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Date: 2025-03-19 04:15 am (UTC)(cruel pleasure, that cruelty exists. she feels it in the way mai digs her nails in her hip. how she's pushed back against the wall. they're staring eye to eye again. mai's teeth biting down harshly into her neck. no, this is what she wanted to see. she wanted to see her. see how greedy her lover is, see the way she keeps wanting more from her. how much she has to have it, taking every inch of it offered before her like something given in worship. she loves it more than cellinia could ever say, in how her eyes shimmer from cruel teasing. cruel torturous pleasure in how her lover makes it clear that she knows her in what little time they've had together. she's paid attention well. in how she wants to drag out the big bad wolf into being wholly hers. she wanted her teeth and her bite solely as her own. cellinia herself must be pleased mai could even respond this way.
she wants every part of her, those hands and her mouth. those pretty lips all over her own. her hands taking hold of her body, cellinia finds it impossible to not imagine it. can't she ever be normal, is a question that's always been there. her father would at times ask this. accusatory and everything, that his daughter was not behaving the way a woman should. she didn't need to behave like, she didn't want to. what she wanted was something else. something more. she relishes in the softness with those scratches raked along her hip. how mai's hand seems so gentle against her cheek while cellinia leans her head into it at first.
she's thoughtful, thinking whenever she hisses out her moans. the moans her lover wanted to hear in such cruelty. in response to her mockery, even, how she has a growl rumble down her throat. mai would feel it from their closeness, she knows. she knows she'd feel the way cellinia's heart threatens to leap out of her chest. how it has yet to stop hammering for her in the way the wolf looks at this girl, this little red riding hood before her. cellinia doesn't say anything more, not yet, she has something in mind she wants to do first.
she threatens teeth in the heel of her hand as her lips brush against it, as if to say she would have bitten it if she could have. like she wanted to, but knows her lover would almost surely punish her. that was only a show of what mai could ever have craved for, in how she answers cruel pleasure with faint threats. faint threats and promises of teeth around the corner if pressed the right ways.)
I want your mouth on my body, leaving those pretty markings you wished to. All over, no matter if they're seen or not. I want your hands on me....leaving scratches, bruises, touching me so much you're all that haunts me.
(because she's by no means, not the type of girl to not feel greedy when allowed to be. cellinia even shows it, in how her eyes are dark with that craving. how much more is she going to spill out for their challenge? how much higher is it going to go? she responds so easily, so naturally. she wants to keep it going even as she whines almost from mai's fingers leaving that wet heat of hers. that must be a lovely sight. watching how she refrains from whining, and how she must be staring at the sight of her licking a single time her arousal and musk off her fingers.
she knows her too well, too well how she likes this. and maybe she would explain later that those were her friends, her coworkers. mai didn't know this, yet. she'll tell her later whenever they're not about to lose their minds in multiple ways when she sees that cheeky smile. that damn cheeky smile which calls out to her again, the sight of it another thing of beauty. something else she memorizes again to herself without a second thought. how many of those can she see? how much of her can she get while she wants to claim this girl as hers?
who knows, cellinia surely doesn't. she might never when she finds herself letting go more in the things she says.)
I want to taste you until you're the only thing I know, I want to haunt you as much as I wish you'd haunt me after this day.
(but she knows, they do need to be patient. if the water ran out before they could get clean, what good was their fun?)
I want to be ravenous for you, dolcezza, after this....
(after they bathe, then....)
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Date: 2025-03-19 08:57 pm (UTC)A shame, the way that both of their father's would be so disappointed in them for their complete disregard for propriety. They ought to be cloaked in shame before one another, their families' best and worst, daring to be anything other than what their proud lineage dictates-- and what Fate dictates, too.
Ah, but it seems that Fate has changed her tune, hasn't she? No longer does she play the frantic melody of a chase between a hunter and the hunted, the tension so taut that the strings could snap at any moment. This time, Fate crafts them a perfect requiem meant for the haunting ghosts that Cellinia so ardently wishes them to become for one another. Fate, ever-silent in the manner with which she draws these two love-starved girls together, plays this dirge for them, and wills them to dare to be reborn in these little deaths that they promise one another.
Mai, herself, could never have believed that she'd ever want to completely crumble in the hands of a beast who professes herself to her with such poetry. Cellinia wants it all, does she? She yearns for Mai to leave irrefutable proof that she was here, thoroughly claiming this wolf for her own. She practically pleads for her to bury her soul in those bruises and scratches that Mai will unquestionably leave her filthy with. And when she feels the threat of those teeth against the heel of her palm, Mai can't suppress a sinful, gleeful grin-- Cellinia is all but promising to bequeath her own soul in return.]
Oh, Cellinia...
[Her name is murmured so sweetly, while Mai rubs the tip of her thumb slowly, menacingly against the corner of her wolf's threatening lips.]
I'm gonna ruin you.
[Because it sounds like an awful lot like a curse. Cellinia wants to curse Mai, curse her so deeply that not even the best sorcerers could ever hope to exorcise her. And Mai is already so pitifully condemned, and always has been from the moment she drew her first breath. This promise, this vow that Cellinia offers her lover to make with her-- it would only serve to make her whole, wouldn't it? To make that curse that had split Mai's soul in two, complete again. Ah, but what an uneven exchange this might be! Because Mai believes that she only has fragments left to offer, but will greedily take everything that Cellinia could possibly give her.
Indeed-- this pact will only ruin you completely, her pretty little wolf.]
I can't wait-- I can't wait to leave you an absolute wreck for me. Just like you want.
[And just like Mai wants to, but she'll leave that unspoken. Neither of them are leaving this place alive. And it doesn't need to be said-- or perhaps, Mai is still to proud to say it aloud-- that there is not a sliver of a chance that Mai won't be utterly haunted, herself, by Cellinia and these pretty words that she speaks without reservation. They're a foreign tune in her ear, one that has insidiously wormed its way into her mind, demanding to be replayed over and over and over whenever the inevitable loneliness creeps in too close.
'After this day...' Cellinia is condemning them both to ruin until they find one another again, isn't she? Such a cruelty of her own, one far more covert than Mai's, but no less treacherous.]
But, sweet-talking me like that-- [ and how addicted Mai already is to those alluring words ] --is really starting to frustrate me. I think I'll just have to make you pay for it, a little...
[What does she mean by that? Cellinia can use her imagination for a bit, while Mai strips her of the remainder of her clothing with far more impatience than she had boasted earlier. Not even the sight of Cellinia bared completely for her now does away with that frustration, instead only making it burn with more intensity.]
Go on-- get inside. If the hot water runs out, then you're really going to get it.
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Date: 2025-03-19 11:32 pm (UTC)their father's would have deemed them lost causes, the best going as far as to touch the worst. to kiss and speak so sweetly to her. to touch her like she's special, to fuck her so tenderly that it would mean something more than this. than what would be considered a mistake on their parts, cellinia likes it. she likes that feeling of her body against hers, she likes even the way that her lover presses into her with those thorns. the thorns of a woman so very hungry and wanting, so greedy for affections offered to her. so demanding of them, like she never wanted to be satisfied. she wants them all. she wants every part of it.
how this goddess wants this wolf down to the last drop. they're a pair of lost girls, senseless and unreasonable. suffering a slow and miserable existence. who cared about them? whoever could about their starved little souls more than one another in the way they're both falling to pieces for it so early? that dirge calling out to them down to their souls is only demanding more of them, break to pieces more and more. come undone the way that their jaded hearts could. touch each other well off into the night and beyond that until they could no longer think straight, maybe even until they couldn't help the way they would forget everything. that they're not those ruined and lost girls the world made them into.
so why don't you, mai? bury her soul in your touch, carve it into something that you could only have and drown in your love? who needed fate when they have one another, who needs cruel fate and all its misery when their touch is a salve that they both never had in their lives. the cruel and soft words uttered, the threats soft and tender. they speak so sweet and so full of affections that another saner person would have wondered what kind of twisted affair this is between them. that's only how they show it, how they show everything in their own ways. her goddess longs to hear it, how the wolf and her beautiful eyes so wild could ever want her.
her name, spoken so sweetly. that promise on her tongue, the vow. she'd ruin her with a run of her thumb along the corner of her lips. her goddess touching them like she has ideas for those pretty lips of cellinia's that doesn't stop how they sweet talk to her. how they speak out such alluring promises. promises and vows of the world, of how she only wants one goddess. how they could ever have only each other in this world, nothing else could dare to compare to them. to the touch of her beautiful goddess that she stares at with those lovely amber eyes that she adores.
so full of want, so full of everything for her. isn't she beautiful? coming undone for her in words and prayers, hymns murmured against her skin. like she found new religion in the touch of her body, in the taste of her lips. in her moans and crying out for her. her most precious devotee who feels her heart beating faster. she wants that so much.
then ruin her, mai, ruin her so sweetly. so cruelly that the touch of another would be nothing. that only your hands could heal her, that only you could make her feel something again of her own. that all she needs is you. only mai, only her and what remains of their hearts. what remains of cellinia who gives so dearly these pieces of herself for her lover. for a goddess that wants to keep her beautiful beast in her hands and arms.
that's more than enough of a prize for someone as starved as they are, isn't it?
but never mind that, she hears her goddess. she's frustrated, is she? about those alluringly tempting words. words which come out those pretty lips so naturally. she means it all in this vow that's uttered. that craving and demand. how they seem to never stop and how cellinia can't help the way she wants to see her again after this day. she wants to ruin this goddess, too. in her own cruelty, she wants her to never forget what she speaks in reverence. what she utters to her heated and endless, in tender worship of lips against her lover's body.
against the body of her goddess when she catches what she was meaning, her body is bared. so within reach yet not in her dear goddess' impatience. cellinia doesn't argue or anything, their bodies separated and the sight of her prowling invitingly into the glass door of the shower. a look over her shoulder briefly at mai before she steps in proper. the heat of the water does nothing to calm this intensity and need she feels for what lit under her that greed again.)
Vieni, dolcezza, dammi il tuo bacio mentre riesco solo a pensare a te e al tuo tocco....
(if she translates it for her, that would be another time. but it was clear in how cellinia stared at her before then, before she spoke, isn't it? she wants her and she'd ruin mai too.)
Come ruin me, the way you want to.
no subject
Date: 2025-03-20 08:39 am (UTC)It almost makes one wonder-- who is the beast amongst the two of them, now? Wordlessly, it's as if they had traded roles, encouraged by the parts of themselves-- those unreasonable parts, buried oh so deeply-- that are calling out to one another. These fragments, so neglected and brittle, now glow hotly with a passion that has been awakened purely by chance. And though they still hide far beneath the surface, encased in the thorny shields forged from past anguish, these secret parts of them are almost, almost daring to trust one another. A curious sight-- the wolf, scarred with sin, prostrating itself before a girl, beseeching her to devour it, this time. Right the wrongs, even the scales by becoming the beast, now. How liberating it could be for the two of them to exchange their places, if only for today.
Mai takes a final glance in the mirror before she follows Cellinia beyond the foggy glass door-- still a girl, still a human, and very much not the beast she feels burgeoning inside. Yet something has shifted. Imperceptible, almost, save for a split-second of clarity the instant Mai meets her own eyes in the reflection. The triumph that she knows she tastes-- and one she anticipates tasing like Cellinia, sooner or later-- is sweetened by the surrender that coats it thickly, now.
'Come ruin me,' Cellinia implores her, perhaps even challenges her, with that dark need pooling depthless in her wolfish, amber eyes. But there is surrender, there, Mai can feel her own body responding to it with every electric tingle lighting up her nerves.
Her fingers grip the wet door handle, pulling it shut softly behind her. Warm steam pours into her lungs immediately, leaving her breaths a bit more shallow. That's fine, though-- Mai is already quite dizzy with something else. She can't put a name to this emotion. For her own peace of mind, she rarely ever does-- who would want to admit to the kind of feelings that seize their very soul, drawing them out from the safety of numbness? So, she'll leave it nameless. Better to let her hands map out the answer for her, instead.
Cellinia's back is turned towards Mai, still-- she'll keep it that way, wrapping her arms around Cellinia's torso and gently pushing her against one of the tiled walls. They're standing beneath most of the running water, and it's pleasant enough, especially with the way it feels when Mai presses the length of her body against her lover's, urging her more firmly against the wall.]
That's right-- forget about me, you know you want this, too.
[But of course, what Mai intends on doing now won't have Cellinia forgetting her anytime soon. She slides her fingers across her upper back, catching the long hair in a way that allows her to slip it over one of Cellinia's shoulders. Now, Mai has a perfect canvas to work with and make beautiful. After palming the expanse of her back, savoring the feeling of those firm muscles beneath the wet skin, she dips her head lower to lap along the rivulets of water traveling down the nape of Cellinia's neck. Her lips descend upon where her tongue traces, tender kisses against skin flushed from the heat of the shower.]
There you go again... [ She murmurs hungrily against the junction of her neck and shoulder, biting down with a softness to start.] Hiding yourself away in that tongue of yours. But you know what? That's fine by me.
[A shame that Cellinia can't see the naughty smile tugging at her lips, though it would be obvious enough in the tone of her words that Mai is up to something quite wicked. With one arm still wrapped around the woman's waist, Mai drags her free hand down Cellinia's scarred abdomen and further down until it finds its familiar place between her thighs. She won't even bother stifling a satisfied little laugh as soon as she finds what she's searching for.]
Because I bet-- [ and her fingers begin to stroke slowly, slowly at her clit, wanting to ruin Cellinia with her touch long before she gets to tear her down completely with her mouth in that same lovely place ] --I bet I don't need to know exactly what you're saying, when I can feel how much you're enjoying me.
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Date: 2025-03-20 05:41 pm (UTC)until they both drown in it, in what it blooms and what it costs them from the bottomless depths of desire. it didn't matter who the beast was, who the actual one could be. not the way she offers herself so boldly to a woman who never had freedoms that cellinia obtained by killing her own. they're too good at complimenting one another. sinful and beloved daughter, sinful and beloathed daughter. taking both by the throat as they find themselves brought down. the grip of it threatening to suffocate like the rain cellinia brings with her for this lonesome goddess she finds herself devoteed in such ease. that anguish, that crying out of their poor souls is unending in itself. fractured, torn to pieces, aimless, and numbed to everything when they were ruined once before. the world never takes kindly to girls who want nothing more with some manner of innocent sweetness in their hearts. they're nothing to that cruelty and the way it shapes them.
she waits, her back turned and tempting in the black and red strands of her lengthy hair against it. a canvas for her lover when she's pushed firmly against the wall. her forehead, pressed against it with mai exposing every bit of soft skin she could ever desire in the patches of roughness along it. her canvas is somewhere she has more she can mark. somewhere that she feels tension easing from the brush of her hand against the firm muscles. the lap of her tongue against her nape drawing out sweeter sighs, shaky breaths while cellinia braces herself with a hand to the tiles of this wall she's pressed into.
even like this, the corner of her beautiful amber eyes is on mai. as best as she may, they speak plenty of what she wants. they say it more than words alone could ever at this moment where she's pressed firmly between the wall and feeling the length of mai's body against her. ah, she wants to kiss her again already. isn't she utterly hopeless? that she could want her lips so much yet doesn't beg for them. she wants to feel them against her skin.
she wants them to chase after their own insatiable greed in how the goddess wants this wolf all to herself. the wolf who sighs out the prettiest of songs for her lover, her little red riding hood and goddess in how she stands. legs parted enough as mai speaks. while she leaves tender kisses along the expanse of her back, along every inch of it her goddess could ever desire as her own to paint in a color she'd know. this marking that would stay carved into her body.
ruin me, just like this. she mouths it wordlessly, she needs it and finds that urge to ruin her lover in kind is there. so strong and demanding in its own want to never let mai forget about a lonesome beast that wants to be haunted by her, that wants to be cursed to never forget her face and to chase it. chase it until she finds her again, until she can touch her and have mai again. until mai could have the wolf that wanted nothing more than to ruin her, too.
come on, lover, ruin her. the way you want to, the way you have to as a means of tying this lonely and jaded girl to you forever. into having her never leave you alone. her teeth sinking in your skin, claiming you forever as her own while never letting go of you. ruin her so beautifully that she can only dream of you, mai.
that she would haunt the dreams of a wolf and remain, chasing away everything in it's violence.)
F-fuck.... (she doesn't always speak crassly, not out of her second language. the words hungry and making her shiver. the teeth biting down in a lovely spot that her lover found. that mai picked out in a tender mark of teeth against it, her sweet sighs are shaky. the softness of her moans echoing against the walls. no, she wasn't wrong. cellinia speaks and purrs out the words she wants to say in it and never says what they mean.
that mai was right, her body betrays her in her silence on the matter in how she shudders at the slow stroke of her clit. the delicious torture, the tease of it in how cellinia doesn't struggle in her surrender. does she say it for her? speak out that poetry she hides behind in utter reverence now and tip them over further, further down in their hearts threatening to swallow them and not let go?) Do you....want me to tell you more words, that you want to know the meaning of? (does she want to hear sweet poetry, something that would add more to the mistakes they've made? in their frustratingly and alluring sound, their temptation and honestly.)
Any words....that you want to know, that you want to hear me say.
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Date: 2025-03-21 07:15 am (UTC)And perhaps, maybe one day, this rain might even purify her in all of its sin. Imagine that-- these two anguished souls, utterly condemned by this heartless world, sanctified in this strange union. Who would think that these two could be any more than a pair of fools in the throes of their mistakes, one of many in their disappointing lives? Because there is little more foolish than abandoning their responsibilities, their mundane obligations, to sneak away and play at being lovers. Cellinia should have never taunted Mai with salacious fantasies-- and Mai should have never thought herself so bold as to challenge this wolf without considering the consequences that would sweep her up in devoted promises that seem almost too good to be true.
But what do they know? All they're armed with is one another's name, and the molten desire that melts them down with every irrational second that they continue to spend together. All Mai has is that look in Cellinia's eyes, one that threatens to haunt her already, a look that sees something that Mai doesn't. This foolish wolf wants to belong to her, she thinks that Mai is someone worth belonging to. And she would almost pity Cellinia for this mistake, the gravest of all that she's making today-- but she is rotten enough to revel in it, pretend that it's the real thing, not even realizing that it will be.
Mai doesn't see those pretty lips mouthing that silent plea to ruin her, but she absolutely hears Cellinia cursing desperately as soon as her teeth sink into that tender skin. It makes her giddy to hear her pretty wolf reduced to such vulgarity, especially after she has made her desires known so beautifully. Oh, but Mai loves it, the way she can make the pendulum swing between these delicious extremes. A beast is still a beast, after all, no matter how enchanting their declarations.
She smiles in delight against the mark she leaves at Cellinia's neck, already on the warpath to ruining her with the hunger of her mouth and the parallel eagerness of her fingers.]
How cute... [ another bite, above Cellinia's shoulder blade this time ] That you still want to give me lessons while I'm trying to teach you a thing or two.
[A very messed-up lesson of Mai's own, in how one should never beg for some pitiful nobody to devastate them as thoroughly as she intends to. It already seems like Cellinia is learning quite well, already, an avid student whether she's aware of it or not. From her sighs and soft moans reverberating so wonderfully, Mai has all the confirmation she needs that Cellinia is more than happy to surrender to the ruin promised with each glide of her fingers, each kiss along her back.]
You can say whatever you want in that pretty tongue of yours. I know it gets you off, losing yourself little by little while you praise me.
[Oh, how she adores the way Cellinia is shuddering in her hold while she continues to work her fingers steadily between her legs. Mai tightens the arm she has at her waist, pressing her body even closer to the wall while she nibbles lazily at the back of her neck and shoulders.]
How about... Mmm, how about telling me how good I'm making you feel, right now? Tell me how happy you are to fall apart for me again.
[Go on, Cellinia, tell your capricious little goddess these things in that foreign tongue of yours. The wolf need not even translate it-- or rather, Mai doesn't think she has it in her to do so, if the girl's cunning fingers have anything to do with it.]
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Date: 2025-03-21 05:49 pm (UTC)she can't help it, not the way she moans for her. not the way that tightening coil in her belly thrums from how close she's starting to get from slow torture alone. ruin her, lover. make her fall for you so hard in the future she'd give you the world. that she'd whisper feelings she never told another soul. get them from her pretty lips as she's pinned to the wall more. the wolf's head pressed to half look at mai now. she's trying to not dig her nails into the tile. cellinia even attempts to keep herself steady, but it's obvious she would let go soon. sooner rather than later. under the hot water that streams down on them.
she has a name, a name that's beautiful in it's meaning. the meaning of it being heaven, the moon. doesn't it suit her? this pretty wolf that her lover touches so much. she's receptive to that touch, to mai's hands and teeth along her body. that they're both so torn apart by the world they dare to dream about this being the real thing. that someone like cellinia could dare to taunt her into ruining her. that she was desperate to be ruined and ruin her in how those amber eyes are searing in their burn. a bright burn that doesn't fade, so tantalizing in how they beg for it. beg for her lips and teeth along this body in its scars. this body her lover considers perfect, a work of art for her touch.
they don't even have anything more than a name, their desire, their faces memorized. she curses, she utters them at the sensation of teeth. that bite down into her back as her lover carries on this warpath. this ever-growing demand to satisfy a hunger within for herself. cellinia's sighs become sharper for her. shaky, her moans a better song than the music she would play in the car and at home from a dislike for the silence of both. from that need for something to cover it up, the way it gnaws at her mind.
how lonely her wolf must be, must have been without her in her life. how lonely she must be to demand it; for them to be tied together at their very core whenever she near misses it. how mai calls it cute of her to want to speak like that. that she wants to whisper such sweet words, sweet cravings dripping in poisonous sin and promises. affections that both girls would never grow tired of wanting, demanding.)
Toccami....solo così. Voglio che la tua bocca mi perseguiti, voglio che i tuoi occhi non mi lascino mai. (she has to pause, a shudder again while attempting to get her mind together. she wants to try and tell her goddess what she wants to say. what she said. maybe she is terrible at conveying it, everything to do with it. but the lazy nibbles, how her little goddess asked for it did make cellinia want to try.) T-touch me....just like this. I want your mouth to haunt me, I want your eyes to never leave me.
(the words are hissed out, unrestrained in their desires. the want within them. give it to her, little red riding hood. she didn't care how terrible of an idea this is. this was for both sides as they left behind mundane and boring lives for a moment they were anything but that. she can only offer those heated whispers of words far too beautiful for girls like them who were destroyed by the world, offer that sweetness which many would kill for themselves so freely.
this poison that she feels mixed into the heat of passion that both girls ignored, desiring not the antidote of their afflictions. they only wanted that tender cruelty that would break them apart and take more while cursing them further into being shadows of their former selves. torn apart, beautiful, and jaded.)
Voglio ricordare te e il tuo corpo, le tue grida. Il modo in cui gemi per me, il modo in cui io gemo per te.... (another shaky pause, another moment of her claws scratching to tiles. it's harder to translate now than it is to talk with how frayed her mind is and yet....) I want to remember you and your body, your cries. The way you moan for me, the way I moan for you....
(oh cellinia, one day you might stop digging yourself further down in your sins. or you might never, she only knows she feels it so strongly. something she can't put a finger on, something that makes her want more than they both could have dreamed of.)
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Date: 2025-03-22 04:47 am (UTC)So, Mai should be more tender with Cellinia, then, shouldn't she? To surmise that a lover might be bereft of something so easily given in this moment, wouldn't it be far more kind to be gentle, whisper soothing sweet nothings while ushering in the deep relief that accompanies release? When Cellinia turns her face just a bit, her cheek pressed to the tile and her eyes seeking out Mai's, the girl can imagine she sees the flames of a certain kind of desperation dancing in their depths. The way that Cellinia's groans become more drawn-out, more shaky and breathless against the soothing sound of the falling water, causes a needy ache of Mai's own grow between her hips. The wolf wants her eyes to never leave her, does she? That's fine-- their position will leave no room for Cellinia to hide those wonderful expressions from Mai's ravenous stare.
And that's when Mai comes to a surprising conclusion-- she will be kind to Cellinia, even if it's not in the way that a lover ought to be. She'll be good to her in the way that twisted sinners like them deserve, breaking her down sweetly with the hands of someone who knows exactly how to do it. After all, that's the way to tame a beast-- not with a sadistic superiority that crushes her underfoot, but with a tender cruelty that leaves her so euphoric that she'll seek out sanctuary in the poisoned affection of a new master.]
Aww, thank you for teaching me. You're such a good girl...
[Her praise is sincere, even if her gratitude is practically sopping with sarcasm. She wants to make sure that Cellinia gets both, after all. She's earned the praise from shuddering so perfectly whenever Mai strokes her just right, all while making a visible effort to keep her wits about her. 'Touch me... just like this.' Very well-- Mai is only too happy to keep up her good work. Cellinia is just so deliciously sensitive for her, after all. She really wouldn't mind playing with her all night... The prettiest of toys for a girl like Mai, who would explore every inch of her in an effort to really see what she's made of. Call it a force of habit thanks to her training, with her learning the composition of something thoroughly enough to recreate it. Thankfully, she's not restricted by her dismal cursed energy here-- there's no limit to the ecstasy she wants to craft for Cellinia before their time is up.]
Maybe too good, though, since you're still talking...
[Satisfied with the tiny marks her nibbles have left (and in a place that Cellinia would need a mirror to properly appreciate), Mai raises her head to kiss her cheek, her eyes still holding her lover's gaze firmly as she pulls away. Ah, how gorgeous, the searing look within her wolf's eyes, that plea for more, more until she finally reaches that peak. Hm... ]
But, tell me, Cellinia, because I really have to know--
[And right when she knows she has her, Mai stills her movements. It's there, that faint throbbing against her touch as she still cradles Cellinia's clit in her fingers. A familiar self-satisfied smile finds itself on Mai's lips again before she continues her light taunting.]
Just how are you gonna make me cry out for you after I've ruined you completely? You think I'll really let you have that chance?
[She rests her chin atop Cellinia's shoulder, stroking her stomach with the hand around her waist while her other hand remains painfully motionless. Goodness, her nerves are really frayed, aren't they? Cellinia is steadily losing her mind, like this, and Mai can't get enough of neither the sight nor the feeling of the absolute sin she's concocting for the both of them.]
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Date: 2025-03-22 04:46 pm (UTC)which comes as no surprise, her claws scratch the tiles at the light taunts mixed with gratitude. scratches against the surface of them, any deeper, and they'd near break the damn things in an afterthought on what could come from that kind of reaction. that's that issue of going for something teetering often between civilized and uncivilized. all it takes is something to press into buried down instincts, buried down everything. cellinia so happens to have worse than some might have ever expected. not just her instincts, but her everything. the violence that she abandoned, the need for that rush of adrenaline she could get from doing something terrible. something as terrible as her speeding, her fights, the nights she went out to clubs at the behest of friends. each too willing to drag her out, some even concerned about the sight of her after she drinks.
but she's not drunk, she's not even sure what she is. that lonely void is large and never-ending. this storm within her, threatening at the eye of it in every means that it had. cellinia's eyes seem to keep that fire, that searing desperation. that something else within them from the stirring of more bestial instincts as mai's lips press against her cheek. she asked for this, she wanted this. she wanted to be ruined thoroughly, she wants to equally ruin in kind by whatever means she could. in that pretty mouth, in those claws of hers that she refrains from using more than her teeth. a funny thought, something like her can force herself into not raking lines into pale skin that could have stung something fierce and beautifully as extras to the teeth she left.
that praise isn't lost on her, that way she said it even with the way it drips sarcasm and how satisfied this girl must be. at the idea that she could have her like this, the lonesome beast who growls when mai's hand stops. when that taunt leaves her lips, the sight of her pleased with herself while cellinia stills herself. that throbbing ache is painful, she's been losing her mind the more this goes on. slow torture. a lot of slow torture and that feeling of her lover's hand running along her toned stomach. she almost swore she caught a familiar scent, a scent of need of her lover's own.
that tortured look, it becomes something else. tortured, ravenous, and maybe too hungry for anyone sane. anyone would know, they shouldn't try to reason with a wolf. they shouldn't even try to touch a wolf this way without some manner of expectations that it'd get bad for them when mixed with taunts. this could even be another way of ruin, another to set her on the path. it doesn't take her much, it doesn't to get her to react and shift their positions. with mai against the glass instead of the tiles. oh, that look in her eyes must be positively delicious. that snarl, that way she isn't talking.
something teetering feral, something less than gentle in how she responded. isn't it beautiful? this is a beast. this is what they're often warned about, and all of this wolf is for this goddess and her tender cruelty. that poisonous desire she offers the beast, her wolf. her beautiful wolf that she wants to decorate the body of. make a claim of her own about, the toned muscle and how she presses them firmly to the glass beneath the warm water. it didn't feel like it was cleaning them, it only felt as though it's adding more to this now raging fire that's started to thrum in her veins.)
Didn't I say that I want to ruin you too, Mai?
(how it rumbles out of her throat lowly, her lover's name. something violent, something like a purr in those growls. their fathers would surely hate this more. that mai could stir something so "uncivilized" in this golden child. in a snarl of teeth and their bodies. is this what her goddess wanted to see? that wild part of her stirring for her pleasure? this twisted affection a beast could only have when it comes to their lover's and those they want to make theirs?
because she has indeed earned this sight. from that beautiful and searing look of wildness in her amber eyes to everything about it.)
I want to ruin you too.
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Date: 2025-03-22 09:59 pm (UTC)After all, she knows perfectly well that she has a veritable beast at her fingertips. Mai knew the moment Cellinia complained about that oaf confusing a wolf for a cursed spirit, and those sneaky wheels in her head really began to turn once she got that first picture. Honestly, Cellinia, what is all of this but your own consequences for piquing the interest of one very bored and very lonely girl? She very well could have been a professional courier and let Mai's flirtations die off without a response, but look at her, now-- trapped under Mai's hot gaze, tortured by her soft fingers, riled up more and more by her teasing remarks. Here she is, offering this girl the sweetest of phrases, such gallant promises, all while Mai chews them up greedily as fuel for her own merciless endeavors to make her noble little wolf crumble completely for her.
Oh--! But when she feels herself pushed away from her very comfortable place behind Cellinia and now pressed firmly against the glass of the shower, Mai can plainly see that her ruinous path is cut short. What was the last straw, she wonders with a smug look on her face. Was she doing too good of a job at delivering her the devastation she was asking for? She doesn't regret it, not a single bit, that she might have taken it a step too far with ceasing her touch right as Cellinia was so close to coming undone for her. Too bad-- for Cellinia. Mai's fingers miss her already... ]
Mm. I might remember you saying that.
[Goodness, the way she snarls her name really does something to Mai, doesn't it? It makes her feel like she's on fire, the heat blazing in the pit of her stomach raring to lick its way up until it engulfs her very heart. She likes it quite a bit, even more than those pretty foreign pet names that she's still mostly in the dark about. But nothing sounds better than hearing her own name uttered in a way that promises something at once dangerous and delightful. And she won't ask her to say it again, not yet-- perhaps once they're in bed and Mai has the upper hand again-- but it's already burned itself into her mind. Before today, her name might as well have been synonymous with disgrace, disappointment, and annoyance. When had anyone ever said her name like this? Ah, well, she has no desire to find out if anyone else could ever utter it in the same way.]
But I wasn't finished with you, yet. You're really just gonna barge in and take over?
[And it is a sight that so thoroughly delights Mai, witnessing an untamed fire of Cellinia's own, blazing in the heat of her stare. Maybe it isn't so terrible, losing her chance to keep edging and torturing her darling wolf. But, Mai's hands are so empty now, and lonely for more of Cellinia's body after having the opportunity yanked away so rudely. They find their place at her hips, gripping into the flesh with a marked harshness that will undoubtedly leave deep red crescents from her nails.
The two of them look so splendid beneath the stream from the shower, with water collecting heavily at their hair and spilling down their faces in glimmering rivulets. No, it certainly isn't doing much to clean them when they're this committed to messing one another up even more. Nor does it even bother to quench the passionate fire already in the throes of suffocating them entirely. Maybe this entire shower adventure was a terrible idea... But the way Cellinia's wet body feels against Mai's does enough to outright reject that train of thought.]
I liked you better when you had manners, Cellinia. Guess I'll just have to be a little meaner to you whenever you're done trying to ruin me, huh?
[Did Cellinia think she could frighten Mai into submission like this? She should have known from the beginning that any girl who willingly follows a wolf into its lair is a terror all her own.]
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Date: 2025-03-22 10:41 pm (UTC)she could have been professional, but everything was tempting. the way she twisted into her and pressed her buttons. how mai even promised things herself. that had no denial in the way she ignored professionalism. cellinia could only blame herself more for this. the way they're both in some ways at fault for the mistakes they're making together; the lines raked into her hips feels too good. when was the last time someone got a bit rougher with her? someone that wasn't obsessed with her and wanting to kill her at the same time as being in love with her for a morbid lover's suicide. both dying by one anothers hand.
she growls again, ah, mai might find it hotter of her. she might even want more of it. how she growls, how she responds to the nails digging into her hips like it's among pleasures she rarely gets. she misses her fingers too, how they felt torturing her so thoroughly. her manners coming up causes the wolf to snarl again. teeth shown to her lover with her own hands not as freed in how they press to the glass beside mai. they can wind up in her bed if they wanted to, but both sides are far too stubborn and lit on fire in other means to think about it.
or to care much about the idea of soggy sheets, the two of them wet and tangled, while mai takes that opportunity to do whatever else she's thinking about doing to her. she really should have held back more, but cellinia finds that even difficult when it comes to her lover already.)
I do have manners, Mai, but even I can get impatient. Or are you going to tie my hands together after while you torture me so sweetly more?
(there it is again, the way her name rumbles out of her mouth. like something fierce. something feral, she likes this about her. the way she's a terror and pushes her further. she wouldn't be doing this if she disliked it. it's obvious. she's got the full attention of a wolf and how she's hungry, how that tongue of hers licks her chops as warm water curtains them and soaks them. this is only fueling that need for sins of their own. she wants to be haunted, she wants to be ruined. cellinia even wants to drag her down with her. her darling wolf is so easy to torture, so easy to press into her own desire for whatever path they're after. they're a mess. internally and outwardly. a mess in how they shouldn't be doing this.
yet here they are with the wolf, looking almost as if mai could tip her over however she pleases. coming undone all for her, like the wild animal she is or beneath her as her lover takes control from her thoroughly.)
That sweet cruelty of yours, I can't get enough of it while you keep pushing it further and further. Don't you hold back on me, I won't on you too, Mai.
(if she demands more, cellinia would give it. if she wants to see her let loose, wildly and free then she will. her lips soon find themselves pressed to mai's. there's a roughness to the kiss, not too rough and not too gentle. a balance to that harshness. she doesn't want to not respond in kind to that cruelty, by giving her something exciting to go with it. she did provoke her and that smug face....ah, she loves that too much, too.)
That face of yours, like you think you won....come on, give me more of it. I want to see it when you take more of me as being yours.
(somewhere her father is turning in his grave more, and maybe her grandfather is. how the mighty have fallen, truly. the pride and joy of one family must have lost her mind to go that far. although, maybe less her grandfather turning over the idea. that man has always been accepting of her and her choices.)
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Date: 2025-03-23 11:40 pm (UTC)[There she goes again, pushing Cellinia's buttons with a false pivot into affection. The hands at her hips digging even more tightly betray whatever sweetness dances upon her words and lurks within her smile. Still, Mai isn't lying-- she's the type to get her kicks far too often from dragging another to the point of frustration. A shame that it's a wickedness that was never properly disciplined out of her, though maybe the bigger shame is that whatever survival instinct that should warn her against taunting wild beasts is overridden by this wicked streak. Cellinia can bare her teeth in those attractive growls that Mai draws from her in that impatience, she can even cage Mai in against the glass, her eyes flashing wildly while her tongue licks her lips with a palpable danger. The fear is there, after all, though far from the proper kind that would have Mai running away as fast as her human body can take her. Rather, it's a messed up kind of adrenaline rush that keeps her wanting to play the delectable prey offering herself up to the beast's mouth only to snatch herself back and start the chase all over again.
Cellinia's appealing offer to stop her from using her hands causes Mai to giggle mirthfully. It's appealing, isn't it? The manner in which the wolf gives herself up to be restrained, all the while Mai can still use her hands however she pleases. Like now, as she slowly, slowly rakes her fingers up from Cellinia's hips, up her sides, savoring how her nails scrape against the wet flesh at her mercy. Silly little wolf-- don't you see that Mai is the one who needs her hands tied? Or maybe she understands it all too well, and is surrendering even deeper to those sweet cruelties that she's oh so addicted to... ]
Careful, now-- asking me to tie you up. What if I forget to let you go? Poor thing, you might even starve to death unless I remember to come back for you.
[And then Mai thinks on it-- and her train of thought is all too obvious on her face. She wears a look that all but says that maybe she should do it, tie Cellinia up and really, really ruin her. Could she do it? Could she bring this proud, dangerous wolf to a place she can't return from? Mai was almost fooled into thinking that they had reached that point several times up until this moment-- but now, staring back into the lustful eyes of the woman before her, she catches a sliver of light behind a door she wasn't aware of before. And now, there's a budding fear she is almost hesitant to entertain. What then, should her wolf break free? Perhaps she would hunt Mai down, blind to everything but the revenge of pleasure she would enact in return upon this foolish human. It would be a promise fulfilled, one that would drag them both to an inescapable ruin. How delightful.
Mai isn't caught off guard entirely by Cellinia's insistence on a kiss, and from the moment their lips meet, she can feel the aching impatience that compels her wolf to seek her kiss out once again. It tastes different from their earlier passions, insatiable in a more ruinous way, tempered by a yearning that doesn't draw its strength from a lover's kindness. It tastes like Cellinia is nearing her breaking point, and when Mai realizes this, she laughs into their kiss, pulling back to let her amusement really spill free.]
'Think' I've won? You're funny-- I know I've won. Just look at you, trying so hard to be tough with me, when you just can't help but beg for me to domesticate you in the same breath.
[She sneers with more than a touch of derision, freeing one hand to grasp at Cellinia's hair and pull her back, keeping her from satiating her need for another kiss. She can tell that her wolf wants more so badly. What better way to discipline her than deprive her of such a treat?]
You know-- I don't have to do anything more than this, do I? Because it looks like you're already mine, and all I had to do was touch and kiss you a little. Are all wolves as easy as you are, Cellinia? Or did I just luck out with the most desperate pup of the litter?
[And she laughs again, almost drunk with the power she thinks she has over Cellinia right now. The hand at her head brings her closer, closer, almost close enough for another kiss-- but instead Mai darts her tongue out to run against Cellinia's lips in a merciless taunt.]
Oh, I think I did...
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Date: 2025-03-24 02:41 am (UTC)(how blunt of her, but she isn't wrong. nobody has said this to her. there are no mentions of deaths at her hands, though it's obvious by looking at her now, isn't it? she's got that look to her. that air to her that says this wolf has taken lives, plenty of lives. her tone shows plenty on what she thinks of those foolish enough to bite off more than they could chew and then turning tail to run, the bite to it. the growl blanketing those words. how many have tried to keep up with her, how many have failed? are they even alive? that's the answers that nobody knows. answers that cellinia would never give out to anyone. only one person has done more than her fair share to this wolf, she isn't here. she would have been laughing loudly at their back and forth like it were entertainment to her. because that twisted silver wolf and her blackened heart knows this one too well; she knows her to the point she'd even mention everything all casual.
like a game to her. twisting, untwisting, unraveling and reveling in it. she'd tell stories that would make girls like mai half delight or half fear the depth of misery in all of them. she'd find it amusing. watching the way they twist, their similarities like something special while taunting that mai could never understand cellinia the way she does. but that woman has yet to show again her face. the twisted smile and her blackened desires of taking what she deemed rightfully as hers. she would never tell mai about her, not about their history. how it threatens to take her by the throat and drag her down.
another snarl, the bearing of those teeth. the moment her head is pulled back away by her hair from their kiss, the growling is louder. a rather frightening purr. something that threatens to ruin them both the more she's pressed into. the wolf is such an unusual girl, isn't she? her wolf who has those little thoughts and desires, her wolf who wants so badly to mark her proper as her mate. this fast, this soon. what a mess she is with those thoughts and her own desires. to want these sweet cruelties and more done to her. this twisted affection they're both sharing and indulging in together. what a beast, what a shame of a parentage that had done so much for cellinia. she should be the one being the responsible adult, and here she is, with her little red riding hood and goddess not doing any of that.
ignoring responsibility, ignoring all reason to bare those teeth. like she's so badly wanting to latch down somewhere more noticeable and mark this woman more than she knew. what better way to lure it out of her?) You haven't won until I make you mine fully, until I make you my proper mate. (which is true, even as cellinia hisses it out. she hadn't told mai about that and what it means to be her mate. wolves do mostly take one lover and one alone. lappland had been after that from her, but she never could obtain it from cellinia.)
Or is that going to be what you're after? My teeth in you, giving you that pretty mark of teeth deep in your neck and claiming you fully as mine?
(doesn't it sound lovely for their twisted affections? mai would get to be claimed solely by a ravenous beast who would make her family suffer for daring touch her. is that what she could ever dream of? a gallant beast, wild and willing to tear them to pieces for her? the girl bringing this rain down as she touches her, begs so sweetly for her to touch her?
she's not arguing that she can sound desperate, she knows she is. deep down isn't she a mess? they're both seemingly far off from how they wish to be seen. cellinia who tries to be anything but what she once was, mai who avoids others seeing the way she gets treated. which is why cellinia meets that sneer, that sneer with another growl. the echoes of it loud along the walls when mixed in with that expression that lit up at the idea of genuinely tying her down.)
If you want that, I wouldn't let go of you. Not even for a second, the minute I do bite you that way while I touch you....nobody would stop me from having you.
(not even the zen'in, who would surely be displeased that mai had been taken by a wild animal. a mutt. though she's far better than those fucked up excuses of misery and abuse in people. too willing to drag down others.
too willing to chain them forever to one spot while laughing.)
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Date: 2025-03-24 11:06 am (UTC)But, so what if her wolf has enjoyed a bit of blood on those beautifully dangerous teeth of hers? That simply means that whoever dared to challenge Cellinia ended up falling short of what was necessary to fell a beast. They deserve those insults, truly. Though Mai's lover sports a map of scars along her body, what else are they but proof that it takes far more than blades or bullets to keep her down for long? 'Pathetic weaklings,' indeed. Mai has already uncovered the proper way to bring the big bad wolf to her knees, and it isn't with conventional weapons-- amusingly enough, though, Mai's own revolver got to enjoy a bit of action without sparing a single round on its target. Not even Mai herself needed to use whatever scraps of cursed energy she would normally cobble together to claim a triumph.
If only her family could see her, now, but they'd almost certainly recoil in disgust at the scene playing out right here. She can see it clearly-- her mother would hide her face in shame, while her father would rage like a ruthless inferno at his useless daughter teetering on the edge of letting some mangy dog mark its territory on his property. It's hilarious, all of it, from this horrid fantasy of her parents, to the solemn declaration Cellinia makes to fulfill her promise to make Mai hers, that monstrous father of hers be damned.
And so, Mai allows herself to dissolve into a fit of laughter, sharp and incredulous and not directed at any one particular person.]
Mate? Seriously, Cellinia-- you didn't really lure me back to your place so you could try to make me your little wife, did you?
[Just uttering those words herself makes Mai laugh even more-- a truly dangerous feat in the face of a snarling wolf with the last vestiges of self-control fraying in real-time right in front of her.
Mate, wife-- it all means the same thing to Mai, who lived her entire life watching the women in her clan be reduced to nothing more than bedmates and broodmares for their cruel-hearted husbands. She had banked on it being her own future, one day. Surely there was someone out there willing to overlook her lack of talent-- lack of worth, really-- in hopes of marrying a close relation of the clan's head. All anyone really needed was her pretty face and attractive figure. Perhaps her offspring might redeem her, some day. Goodness knows that the same could hardly be said for her own mother. But Cellinia's offer-- or is it a threat?-- truly throws Mai for a loop, for she can't fathom what a she-wolf would want with a human girl for a 'proper mate'. This confusion only serves as fuel for her amusement, and by now, Mai's grip at Cellinia's hair and body loosen even more in her snickering.]
Oh, don't tell me-- you're trying to make an honest woman out of me, now, after screwing me in the back of your car. How noble of you.
[Because if that was all it takes to become promised to someone, be it a wolf or a human, then Mai would have been tied to far lesser mates who dared to enjoy her body on a whim. But in the end, not even they ever bothered to claim her-- she was too far beneath them, when all was said and done, after all. And yet, here Cellinia was, knowing far less about Mai (and her many drawbacks) than any of them, and pledging more to Mai than anyone in this entire world would deign to do. She ought to say no, she ought to laugh in her face and shove her away for playing around with her feelings like this. And yet... the hand tangled in Cellinia's hair merely moves to pet her sharp, drenched ears, a tiny gesture of affection in the face of her caustic tongue.]
And that's how I 'win,' huh? With a scar on my neck and a promise from you to never let me go?
[While Mai's tone sounds cynical, and that sneer on her face only feeding the incredulity at what Cellinia proposes, her eyes are alight with an unmistakable glee. There it is again-- her gallant wolf, trying to play the white knight who would wish to claim her, faults and all. So, Cellinia wouldn't let a single soul prevent her from keeping Mai once she's laid her claim, would she? She has no idea that no one in this pitiful world even wants Mai, she doesn't know that her competition is practically nil. And she doesn't know that, even though they loathe her ever so thoroughly, Mai's clan would rather tear her apart themselves than let a beast attempt to cherish her so tenderly. Cellinia doesn't know the jaws of the real monster she'd have to pry Mai from, even once she's marked her truly for her own. It fills Mai to the brim with a twisted delight, a morbid curiosity to see how right she is, and an even more messed up desire to call Cellinia out on her bluff.]
Do it, then-- I'd love to see you try, anyway. But I don't wanna deal with whatever disappointment you feel when you figure out that this is just a losing deal for you.
[This wolf must have more than a few screws loose, if she's chomping at the bit to lay claim to the Zen'in family's trash. The cruel, embittered part of Mai wants to see Cellinia as merely a starved street mutt digging wherever it can for scraps. But there's another part of her, a part that she often wishes she could smother to death but somehow still resurfaces despite her best efforts-- a part of her that imagines her lover as a dutiful hound with a nose for real treasure. Before, she has cast her eyes upon Mai as if she were a thing of value. Mai can never forget that look, she simply can't. Nevertheless, she'll offer a snarky warning, just in case Cellinia needed a little push to retreat from her lofty proposal.]
Guess you'll just have to learn the hard way, like everyone else does.
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Date: 2025-03-24 07:54 pm (UTC)because that wasn't what her mind considers a mate, her very definition of it differs from the traditional sense of marriage. this isn't something given lightly. wolves do mostly take one mate for life, and this unusual circumstance between them has stirred up something fierce.) Do you really think someone like me would want one of those women who sits pretty and mundane? That I'd expect someone to change for me after you saw how I looked at your age? (now there's a revelation. indeed, that photo and corpselike look to her? she was the same age as mai. she wouldn't be here if that haunting photo said something without the help she received. that look and demeanor she had, like she was dead. supposed to be dead and dreaming of it as time ticked onward. the fact she pulled herself out of it with others helping her....that's a feat in itself. she had someone willing to not give up on her.
it's as if she's got more than what she shows on the surface going on, those thoughts and nightmares of a past long buried and bloody she tries her hardest to pretend isn't there any longer on her heels. which means, cellinia revealed something else in that unexpected confirmation about the photos. another question for her lover to chew on, does that mean she noticed more than those idiots walking the street while they carried on? did it mean she knew a girl felt dead and sullen, more than she'd ever dare to reveal? what was it that cellinia has dealt with, to cause her to notice? answers are harder to come by than more questions about this mystery presented before her little red riding hood.
enough that mai's own mother and father would have surely called for this beast to die had the truth come out. that mai is facing a bona-fide killer of her own kin. patricide isn't a lofty title, and it's something reserved for those willing to commit such a horrible act. she's not the first that's become a lone wolf by wiping out her entire familiga, she wouldn't be the last. especially not for something as horrific a crime as patricide.)
Nor would it be a scar like you're thinking.
(this isn't a bluff, this is serious. locking them both in a game to go with her request to ruin one another. that the wolf means it. she isn't that type to bluff either, one only has to look in those beautiful amber eyes to know. their sharpness, how they seemingly pierce right through anyone so stupid to challenge her. whatever could it mean? to be the lover of a wolf who carries herself the way cellinia does, it means many things. that she felt she desires them to that length. she doesn't deny this as she finds it difficult to not consider the possibility of it happening by first sight. could this be something as warped as a twisted love affair in the making between them? one that could surely end in blood if they were found?
but that's the frightening thing! the stakes would only grow higher, who knows how long before it sets in how much realer this is getting for her wolf. because she isn't retreating, that look in her eyes suggests plenty on that. when she wants something, she chases it. when she desires someone too, she wouldn't give up. that was nothing to her. which brings the bigger and more frightening question, would she stay? would she show her how much of a treasure this woman is by becoming her lover fully, going beyond those lesser women who dared to even try? since cellinia is far more different than them. that air of chivalry aside, everything about her oozes something more than she'd ever reveal to anyone.
past what few bits and pieces she speaks of freely in odd remarks and concerning commentary given about her old life. what even was she before? that's what would never be said. what an oddity her wolf is, a frightening thing when someone gets far enough to almost touch it.)
I only said that it's your win if I do it, if I completely mark you. Somewhere on that pretty skin of yours. Or are you backing out now to retreat at the idea of it happening?
(from the earlier remark, it should be obvious what she thinks of cowards. weak. not even worth her effort, not worth any bit of her gaze on them. nor were they worth her time in general, all they were had been people she killed quickly then left. for those who didn't get away from her in a fight, anyway. anyone else? she would ignore them and go about her day without any words. nothing but cordial while maintaining her distance.
though that also makes it amusing, cellinia would have thought that about mai's very own family. mai was the one who followed her into the wolves den. that means she does think somewhat differently about her, enough to respect her and think she's got more guts than anyone in that damn household. who is crazy enough to follow the big bad wolf into their den, anyway? girls with nothing to lose, just like the wolf herself who's ears twitched into her soft fingers.)
Because here I thought you were ballsy to taunt me, to keep pushing me the way you are like you got nothing to lose. So come on, try and tame me into making you mine fully, Mai.
(once again, her name is purred out that way her lover likes. a challenge, a risky one. who knows what would happen at the end of it....if they're even alive and survive that long. because in their worlds, that's always the risk.)
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Date: 2025-03-25 01:37 am (UTC)[That is to say, they would be completely disappointed with someone like Mai if they were ever saddled with her in some pointless, lifelong union. Sure, she can know her place for a while, play along with her assigned role until she starts to get cagey and decides to mouth off. And anyone worth their salt would swiftly remind her of what she is and who she belongs to.]
Someone like you, though? I don't know a thing about you, other than that you're a bored little wolf with nothing better to do than snatch up girls to eat.
[And that those wolfish eyes are frighteningly capable of boring into her soul with a devotion that Mai has never seen in any human she's had the misfortune of knowing. Now, though, those same eyes taunt her with the same ruthlessness Mai was so comfortable doling out. How bitter this medicine tastes when forced upon her to swallow, this time. And she loathes it, oh, how annoyingly frustrated it makes her feel to feel the upper hand slipping. She'd rather Cellinia return to looking at her with a misplaced adoration without expecting anything in return-- but it looks like she's caught on to Mai's greedy antics, and is coming to collect.]
But I guess you cleaned up okay, didn't you? If we're talking about people with nothing left to lose, you really had me beat, there.
[That photo is brought to the forefront of her mind again, the misery and emptiness in that Cellinia's eyes making her feel more than just a little bit of empathy. At least Mai has the decency to give a tough front, a snarky and prickly facade, despite her own anguish tethering her to the depths of its void. At least Mai has enough pride to never let the world see her own damning loneliness, let alone allow it to be immortalized in a photo. That Cellinia was no older than Mai and dared not hide how dismal she felt her existence was, even going so far as to keep it as a reminder for any guests to see and judge-- it almost makes Mai feel disgusted on Cellinia's behalf. Almost. She holds her tongue, knowing better than to make any further acidic remarks on a past she has no clue about.
Interesting though, what a far cry from that girl Cellinia is, now. It does beg the question if the wolf became any more well-adjusted after existing as a living corpse. Considering where the two of them find themselves, currently, perhaps the answer to that question is more than a bit complex-- or maybe the answer is simply a resounding 'no.' ]
Funny, though-- earlier you were so adamant about belonging to me, but I don't hear any of that anymore when you're talking about me 'winning' whatever this is. You think I'm the type to back down after I've gotten this far? Don't forget-- I know how to get you right where I want you.
[She hates it, the tone of those words and the insinuation behind them. That Cellinia would look upon her with ridicule should she back off at this point in their morbid little game, rather than with the poisonous worship she's tempted Mai with-- oh, that really fuels this swell of annoyance in her. More than that, though, it makes the desperate and clingy part of her want to meet that challenge with everything she can muster, just so she can steal back that intoxicating adoration and never let it slip through her fingers again. If she has to try and subdue a violent wolf to get her way, she won't shy away with getting a little bloody, herself.]
You can talk tough all you want, Cellinia, but you're not fooling me. When I win, it'll be when I've ruined you. And you'll be so broken in that you're not even gonna be thinking about marking me as a mate.
[She draws out that last word with a mocking lilt to her voice, eyeing Cellinia like this honorable offer of hers means so little to Mai. Show her exactly what being chosen for a mate is worth, pretty wolf. Slash away this troublesome girl's ignorance of what she's falling deeper and deeper into with every second she doesn't back away from Cellinia's risky challenge. Because Mai still has some fight in her, after all, despite every warning and survival instinct begging her to retreat from the beast's lair.]
So, then-- are you in that much of a hurry for me to tame you? Or can I squeeze a few more manners out of you so I can finish my shower?
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Date: 2025-03-25 02:37 am (UTC)(because she isn't them, she won't be. what she is, is something else entirely. they're all fortunate that she never did become that dutiful wife her father wanted to be; she never would have survived it for long. not from those raging instincts, the desire for violence. that underlying urge for it. she's a natural-born prodigy of something as frightening as death and dealing it in how she can change her demeanor into being anything but normal. that side of her that she always tries to keep further down away from others. nobody needed to see her like the way she had been before; that wolf who would have taken lives mercilessly. it didn't matter if nobody knew about her being this terrible. not even about the cause of the sickness, the cause of her own tiredness. she's here, she's freed from all of it. or that's what the wolf has often told herself.
which is why she finds it easy to call out others, she knows too well some things. she's proof enough of someone being worse off than she'd care to admit. but that didn't mean those taunting eyes and their ruthlessness didn't have that devotion to them. because she does this exactly due to those confusing feelings. admiration, devotion, and worship of a girl that has never had it once in her life. how much of it does she understand? don't you care to find out and learn now, lover? how she would make your family pay, how she'd while covered in blood kiss you so sweetly? why not the idea of her granting you that freedom she took by force?
there is so much more underneath it, that intoxicating adoration is only the beginning in how serious her gaze is. the sight of her issuing a challenge so fiercely. whatever is this to anyone else? they'd never understand the feelings a beast like her could ever have when met with someone that has suffered anguish that reaches down into her very soul. the agony that she knows all too well when mai speaks about it. about her in those photos again.)
You're right. I had absolutely nothing.
(another bone chilling admission. what did she mean by that? surely someone like her would have had people to rely on, people that cared about her to that point. right? the answer to that won't be mentioned. her sole saving grace came from one concerned beast, and that was that. nobody cared about the sole survivor. she who burned everything in fire then left behind the corpses in blood, in the rain that she smells so thickly of often.
but she says nothing more on it, she won't. what she instead does is reach to take mai's other hand. her own so very rough, so worn and having had taken so many lives. she does this because she won't elaborate, with the way her lips press to the top of it like something half chivalrous, half not. devoted and wild, two halves that would always exist of this wolf. the pretty wolf who would not back down from the promised challenge she gives her lover. she wouldn't just show her, she'd teach her what it means to belong to someone like her.)
I'll ruin you beautifully in kind, Mai. Don't even doubt that for a second.
(no, that tone says this is a promise. another vow, devoted and more than that. she would ruin this goddess beautifully. even as she steps away from pinning her, her hand holding mai's while she pulls her in closely. like she wants to whisper a secret, but the reality is more than that. she wants to touch and be touched in kind. those searing eyes are all hers, the fire that burns in them and everything. nobody has gotten these reactions from the wolf, so perhaps mai can say she's on the right track.)
Then touch me, I'll burn your body in my mind as you do mine for this.
(come on, pretty goddess, she'll make you feel like you belong and more.)
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