(how fitting is it that the beautiful monster is the one to look upon her like she means something. the wolf is tender, cruelly so in how she makes a girl feel so special. devotion is such an interesting idea from a woman like her, isn’t it? when one has so little, it’s only unsurprising that the monsters themselves would find an appeal in souls that were rotted down to being poison themselves. half formed or not, there was such a sweet appeal in what cellinia reaches for with darkly sworn oaths of blood and despair. what better a lover, a match, than someone who knows the sting of hatred toward her own name? legacy does little, honor was only seen by those as a convenient excuse to behave as they pleased. desiring justice of a twisted sort while telling others that they were simply wishing to help those in need, playing at being human for the sake of appearances. except they weren’t human, they weren’t anything remotely close to human by demeanor alone when given the chance to feast like wild savage animals.
but irony is such a delicious thing, cellinia is no saint, and there’s proof of it in her choice to sin here and now with a girl who provoked ruin. whispers on a makeshift altar whereupon they choose what may or may not come of this union of theirs and how the other monsters might believe them to be something so terrible in their willful ignorance about the way something like love works. it would only be seen as a foolish endeavor, a game to those bastards who would never understand the way their hearts seem to react. what a funny thought that is, that they might even be able to make something of themselves in their eyes. the pretty wolf doesn’t seem fazed by this position they found themselves in, not that she’s had time to think about it and what it entails. what could possibly go wrong in this love which they ignore the makings of to play pretend. they aren’t delicate maidens, but something more cruel than that in their own way. which makes this wolf saving this girl amusing. she doesn’t seek to end this by rapidly devouring her, she’s savoring the hunt and chase that it offers.
how it stimulates her mind, holds her attention without trying from how they both flirted, though cellinia never was a good flirt. that she might have been doing it more naturally speaks some volumes of what kind of presence that mai in her half-formed heart has by words alone and devious whispers of ruin. beautiful anomaly, paradox, it didn’t matter what cellinia is at the end of it. if she could go against whatever the world, fate, anything such as that desires, then why not make it so for a pretty goddess while sweet death sought to originally take her for itself? it’s only fitting for a monster to rip away a poor wayward soul from death’s very own icy grip by making the choices that change such a fate by taking her for herself.
so she whispers it, she needs this foolish girl. though they both are fools, were she to be more honest in that regard. fools who were so twisted into what they are now. there is no soul clean of anything between them. cellinia is transfixed on her, the pretty wolf, which has her eyes glimmer in darkly ignited pleasure. those eyes which are mesmerizing and pretty, sharp as they take in any details. like staring into the soul and deciding that they’re not leaving. so pretty, so unwilling to look away.
she didn’t have to.
all she had to do was listen to the way mai groans out so softly, her sharp breaths like music to the wolf who feels herself sighing out breathlessly sweet notes in response to the kiss. it was easy to steal away her breath by this goddess, they’re both making mistakes that anyone sane would have avoided. that was far from mind for the wolf, not even until after this would cellinia start to think about it. if only slightly, she might not even bother to consider then until it’s too late that she had promised something more than most would have dreamed of for a girl who had nothing left except precious little that her greedy hands would have held tightly on to. something that cellinia understood too well, as she had been in a precarious position which would have ended her if not for one kind soul.
their kiss bruised lips and breathless sighs, moans, whatever they might call it are proof enough that they’re only going to lose what grasp of reason and sanity that remains for them. having such things were only pointless when it comes to the affairs of monsters. it wasn’t worth the energy to maintain that part of themselves with this kind of storm that entangles them. they’ll never be the same, that is true for cellinia. in the way she touches mai, it’s only another part of this carnal desire mixed with love that they willfully ignore.
she didn’t need to think, she only needed the taste of her lips and the sound of her voice with each plunge of her fingers. the whimpers, her ragged breathing while her walls tighten around her fingers. how perfect is she for her? the wolf sees her as a lovely goddess, her own little red riding hood. just look at how pretty she is while with a deep flush across her beautiful face in response to pleasure being granted to her for her own reward in enduring for long enough for one of them to get her hair washed. for even hanging on tight as the wolf called her, hers, in response to the taunting she did.
it’s too perfect, especially in how she breathes out shaky sighs of her own between stolen kisses and their bodies having a deep craving on this makeshift altar. forget about reality, it’s done so little for them. it’s never been kind to girls like them, once bright-eyed and pure. cruel reality, it only offers another poison meant to tear them to pieces with doubt, hesitation, and darker thoughts about what offerings they gave in demeaning ways directed at themselves and their cursing of their vulnerability as though it were a worthless thing. unfortunate how it doesn’t work that way with wishing it might disappear, the parts of themselves that could only ever long to be healed like wounded children that are deep within them.
children who didn’t deserve the future given to them, though one had risen above the way it intended to destroy her for the crime of living past a night that would have killed her had she not be so fortunate. so lucky that their intentions, that the silver wolf and others within her life hadn’t decided to allow her to live. she was worth more dead than alive in the old country to most. but not to them, them who thought her last name and the wretched way it carries a weight to it was worth that effort.
she’ll make her miserable existence, her going against reason, worth something more. more than those monsters had ever taught mai, this is a lesson in living freely. taking as she desires, saw fit, with an offering of a beast’s body and very own leash for a girl like her. it’s an exquisite gift, isn’t it? her own beast, something she can mark solely as belonging to her and no other in these spoken words and whispers like they’re keeping secrets from some manner of outside presences that could be listening. she wants that greed, she wants everything her goddess has to offer without realizing how much that sweetness would destroy them when the day comes for it to collect its due price.
the price of love in how she whines for her goddess, the caress of fingers along her wet folds. that tease of it is enough to make cellinia feel as though she would lose her mind without her touch, she’s burning so hotly for her between that and the ever deepening kisses. the slick movements of their tongues. her body needs her touch, won’t she give her it? from the low whimper, the hungry groans they share between kisses, one would think she would die without her. without this in how it makes her feel, her own fingers are deep inside mai. they slow. almost as though to match mai while they’re like this and restrain herself from pushing so soon to bring her red riding hood to the edge.)
Mai....
(so pretty, so lovely how her voice strains when mai’s own fingers sink into the wet heat. how she says her name, it’s so beautiful. her body didn’t resist, it welcomes her in how she looks at her lover. beautiful ruin, her free hand finds itself reaching for mai. bringing them both nice and proper on their sides, close, so close and able to see one another better as they both made a choice. they won’t fall to ruin alone. mai desired cellinia to fall with her, then it’s only fitting her rhythm matches that of hers. she’s being so good for her, as amusing as it is that they both could be only when their hands are preoccupied with their bodies.
her walls tighten around her fingers on reflex when mai adds a third finger, she could take it. she is taking it, so easily and even moaning breathlessly for her, such pretty sounds. into their kiss that her greedy lover takes again for herself. she almost melts from need. forever might be too greedy, but it might even be too greedy were mai to desire to keep hearing the way cellinia might moan her name in kind. the wolf already likes too well how her goddess loves to say her own name. what wonderful music they make while giving these prayers on the makeshift altar, she might never stop praying if it means she can see her again.)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2025-08-18 07:26 am (UTC)but irony is such a delicious thing, cellinia is no saint, and there’s proof of it in her choice to sin here and now with a girl who provoked ruin. whispers on a makeshift altar whereupon they choose what may or may not come of this union of theirs and how the other monsters might believe them to be something so terrible in their willful ignorance about the way something like love works. it would only be seen as a foolish endeavor, a game to those bastards who would never understand the way their hearts seem to react. what a funny thought that is, that they might even be able to make something of themselves in their eyes. the pretty wolf doesn’t seem fazed by this position they found themselves in, not that she’s had time to think about it and what it entails. what could possibly go wrong in this love which they ignore the makings of to play pretend. they aren’t delicate maidens, but something more cruel than that in their own way. which makes this wolf saving this girl amusing. she doesn’t seek to end this by rapidly devouring her, she’s savoring the hunt and chase that it offers.
how it stimulates her mind, holds her attention without trying from how they both flirted, though cellinia never was a good flirt. that she might have been doing it more naturally speaks some volumes of what kind of presence that mai in her half-formed heart has by words alone and devious whispers of ruin. beautiful anomaly, paradox, it didn’t matter what cellinia is at the end of it. if she could go against whatever the world, fate, anything such as that desires, then why not make it so for a pretty goddess while sweet death sought to originally take her for itself? it’s only fitting for a monster to rip away a poor wayward soul from death’s very own icy grip by making the choices that change such a fate by taking her for herself.
so she whispers it, she needs this foolish girl. though they both are fools, were she to be more honest in that regard. fools who were so twisted into what they are now. there is no soul clean of anything between them. cellinia is transfixed on her, the pretty wolf, which has her eyes glimmer in darkly ignited pleasure. those eyes which are mesmerizing and pretty, sharp as they take in any details. like staring into the soul and deciding that they’re not leaving. so pretty, so unwilling to look away.
she didn’t have to.
all she had to do was listen to the way mai groans out so softly, her sharp breaths like music to the wolf who feels herself sighing out breathlessly sweet notes in response to the kiss. it was easy to steal away her breath by this goddess, they’re both making mistakes that anyone sane would have avoided. that was far from mind for the wolf, not even until after this would cellinia start to think about it. if only slightly, she might not even bother to consider then until it’s too late that she had promised something more than most would have dreamed of for a girl who had nothing left except precious little that her greedy hands would have held tightly on to. something that cellinia understood too well, as she had been in a precarious position which would have ended her if not for one kind soul.
their kiss bruised lips and breathless sighs, moans, whatever they might call it are proof enough that they’re only going to lose what grasp of reason and sanity that remains for them. having such things were only pointless when it comes to the affairs of monsters. it wasn’t worth the energy to maintain that part of themselves with this kind of storm that entangles them. they’ll never be the same, that is true for cellinia. in the way she touches mai, it’s only another part of this carnal desire mixed with love that they willfully ignore.
she didn’t need to think, she only needed the taste of her lips and the sound of her voice with each plunge of her fingers. the whimpers, her ragged breathing while her walls tighten around her fingers. how perfect is she for her? the wolf sees her as a lovely goddess, her own little red riding hood. just look at how pretty she is while with a deep flush across her beautiful face in response to pleasure being granted to her for her own reward in enduring for long enough for one of them to get her hair washed. for even hanging on tight as the wolf called her, hers, in response to the taunting she did.
it’s too perfect, especially in how she breathes out shaky sighs of her own between stolen kisses and their bodies having a deep craving on this makeshift altar. forget about reality, it’s done so little for them. it’s never been kind to girls like them, once bright-eyed and pure. cruel reality, it only offers another poison meant to tear them to pieces with doubt, hesitation, and darker thoughts about what offerings they gave in demeaning ways directed at themselves and their cursing of their vulnerability as though it were a worthless thing. unfortunate how it doesn’t work that way with wishing it might disappear, the parts of themselves that could only ever long to be healed like wounded children that are deep within them.
children who didn’t deserve the future given to them, though one had risen above the way it intended to destroy her for the crime of living past a night that would have killed her had she not be so fortunate. so lucky that their intentions, that the silver wolf and others within her life hadn’t decided to allow her to live. she was worth more dead than alive in the old country to most. but not to them, them who thought her last name and the wretched way it carries a weight to it was worth that effort.
she’ll make her miserable existence, her going against reason, worth something more. more than those monsters had ever taught mai, this is a lesson in living freely. taking as she desires, saw fit, with an offering of a beast’s body and very own leash for a girl like her. it’s an exquisite gift, isn’t it? her own beast, something she can mark solely as belonging to her and no other in these spoken words and whispers like they’re keeping secrets from some manner of outside presences that could be listening. she wants that greed, she wants everything her goddess has to offer without realizing how much that sweetness would destroy them when the day comes for it to collect its due price.
the price of love in how she whines for her goddess, the caress of fingers along her wet folds. that tease of it is enough to make cellinia feel as though she would lose her mind without her touch, she’s burning so hotly for her between that and the ever deepening kisses. the slick movements of their tongues. her body needs her touch, won’t she give her it? from the low whimper, the hungry groans they share between kisses, one would think she would die without her. without this in how it makes her feel, her own fingers are deep inside mai. they slow. almost as though to match mai while they’re like this and restrain herself from pushing so soon to bring her red riding hood to the edge.)
Mai....
(so pretty, so lovely how her voice strains when mai’s own fingers sink into the wet heat. how she says her name, it’s so beautiful. her body didn’t resist, it welcomes her in how she looks at her lover. beautiful ruin, her free hand finds itself reaching for mai. bringing them both nice and proper on their sides, close, so close and able to see one another better as they both made a choice. they won’t fall to ruin alone. mai desired cellinia to fall with her, then it’s only fitting her rhythm matches that of hers. she’s being so good for her, as amusing as it is that they both could be only when their hands are preoccupied with their bodies.
her walls tighten around her fingers on reflex when mai adds a third finger, she could take it. she is taking it, so easily and even moaning breathlessly for her, such pretty sounds. into their kiss that her greedy lover takes again for herself. she almost melts from need. forever might be too greedy, but it might even be too greedy were mai to desire to keep hearing the way cellinia might moan her name in kind. the wolf already likes too well how her goddess loves to say her own name. what wonderful music they make while giving these prayers on the makeshift altar, she might never stop praying if it means she can see her again.)