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Post by libellule on Jan 4, 2011 1:25:13 GMT -6
He could feel it course through her like a slithering snake. Wrapping and constricting around and around, until it consumed her and suffocated her. This beautiful pride and luscious knowledge of him being hers. His muffled laugh was intoxicating, it was delirious as her blood brought about a high so joyous and unbelievable he forgot everything but its taste. He forgot himself and his own essence when he felt it lace his veins. She was undeniable tempting and wicked. His siren… It coursed through him like a drug that knew no limits and his thirst was unquenchable. She would consume him.
His hazy, altered eyes opened through the fog as he felt himself loose balance, his glorious golden eyes flared for mere seconds before the red came roaring back. The shivers and quakes at the feel of her raw, untamed beauty made him groan in sheer lust as his back hit the forest floor and she took her bloodied throne on top of him.
His beserker was basking in the thrill of her power scorching an inferno of blazing power through his core when her teeth ripped a gash in his painted lip once again. She held his attention, he could find nothing more powerful that her, basking in her beautiful shadows, craving, clawing, for his attention.
His claws trailed down her thighs, his nails ripping thin ribbons and shallow gashes in her creamy flesh. That smell… ugh it would be the death of him.
So many things of his past he chose and struggled to not remember. So many vicious, life-altering things that were fuzzy, clear, or meaningfully forgotten… She was the one thing that held him, kept him grounded, after his bloodied form graced her black, polished marbled floor, menacing, and willing to cut down anything that stood in his path….
The growl that sounded within his throat uttered a single solitary emotion that he could swear shivered through the entire forest. Possessive. He was drenched in it. Nothing would take her from him. Nothing would dare to take her from him, the apocalyptic scenarios he would bring about the entirety of her realm…
She was his. His to guard, his to exploit, his to use, his to love. His hand shot out to grasp at her neck once more as he pulled her to his lips, his other arm around the small of her back, pushing her entire figure against him. His hand slid down her back to grasp a firm hold on one of her plump cheeks, pushing her on his apparent hardened arousal. Her lithe frame, her hips, and her breasts against him were enough to make him groan.
“Good kitten…Why not indeed…” They were barely words, more like a wretched, crude, snarly language he knew only she could understand.
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Post by Willow on Jan 4, 2011 2:03:23 GMT -6
He was such a perfect and glorious sight beneath her. Beautiful and horrific. A beast of primal impulses just brimming with all this power that she could taste pushing against her own. It was intoxicating, filling her up until she was nearly drunk on it. Drunk on him. He did that to her. Just being near her, and now with them basking in the berserker, exploiting what it meant to truly be demon… it was everything and more, and still she craved more yet. Greedy hands tipped with vicious talons gripped his wrists tighter, then slowly released them so that she could drag the points of those claws down his arms and over his chest, still stained with the blood of their enemies. It made her shudder and let out a hot breath as she slickened her hands on his chest, mingling fine lines of his own blood with that which was already there. And then he ripped into her. Lightly, teasingly, his claws sliced through her pants and into the flesh of her thighs. He was making her groan again, making her hiss and snarl, rolling her hips against him with need and this vicious impulse to show that she was riding atop him. Exerting her own dominance. Oh but she wanted him inside of her. There was so much blocking the way, and that made her growl, made her viciously vocalize her displeasure while she arched herself into his touch.
His grip was sure, possessive, demanding around the back of her neck as he dragged her down to his lips and she snarled affectionately into the tonsil-cleaning kiss. It shifted, and she moaned against him to feel the way their bodies were pressed so tightly together that she was able to feel every inch of his quivering muscles that touched her much smaller body.
Lips turned up into a savage smirk and she chuckled against the side of his mouth. “Why do we wear clothes again?” she snarled, more serious than jesting.
Gods above she could feel him. She could feel his hard against her and she was aching for him. Aching. Her teeth scraped against his neck, against the exact place where on her own neck was the mark of his possession. “I want to tear into you,” she growled, and her talons sliced his shoulders where her hands were gripped. “I want your blood, Ciel. I want all of you. Taking me over, taking you over. Tell me it’s mine,” she hissed. “Say it.” One hand had drifted up to curl over his neck. Her hands were much too small to be able to encircle the whole of it like his could, but she was a skilled warrior and she knew where to place her talons. It was no less effective than the grip he could hold against her.
The possessive nature of the demon loved being fed, being told and reminded of what was hers. “Show me.”
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Post by libellule on Jan 6, 2011 0:21:04 GMT -6
Ciel could feel her quake with want. Her groans only rectified his assumptions.. He only chuckled at her. The way she squirmed against his clothes, his muscles, his entire massive frame. It amused him so much to observe the peculiar looks that were shot in their direction when the two them were around each other. His towering, wide figure in comparison to her small, seemingly frail, beautifully thin shape. Oh the rumors they spread stroked his pride so much… The whispers they made of their queen with him… in so many erotic ways. How deliciously right they’d been…
Because here she was, squirming, grinding, and moaning against him like a bitch in heat… Mm. His bitch. He couldn’t find anything more appetizing, anything that would be more savory on his tongue.
Her response to his dominating act brought a purr from his lips, smashed against her own. The way she snarled, the way she accented his power with her own authority made his blood boil in some outlandish fetish of lust.
With a hard slap, his hand slid down her thigh to rest there, his grip nice and tight as he locked her to him. He nipped as her cheek as she asked him that question. “Because,” he stated roughly, “I’d kill anyone who looked at you, my dear… Seeing as your queen and all…” He chuckled sadistically before continuing, his mouth finding a path to his mark, his sharp vicious canines grazing her skin, “That may be quite a few people… Not that I would mind…” He bit into her flesh, groaning in the sweet rapture her scent drove him to, the insanity even more so. The feeling of her teeth made a tremor flit down his spine. “Allow me,” he purred darkly, his claws digging into the fabric of her shirt, his mind solely on seeing her bare beautiful skin. So he tore it away from with a flick of his wrist and snapped her breastband with a growl. That damn thing annoyed him so. He’d rather she never wore one, so much easier to cop a feel that way, a grin spread across his features as his hands, releasing her neck, slid up her smooth back slowly, before his large hands cupped her perky little breasts that seduced him so.
His hips thrust up against hers from where he lay. Mm… her grip felt so good, her talons so luscious in his skin. A hand left her chest, twining in her shaggy locks as he pulled savagely back to his face, his growling, menacing face. “You are mine,” he barked at her, teeth bared. Only their pants remained. Surely they wouldn’t be on for much longer…
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Post by Willow on Jan 6, 2011 16:09:55 GMT -6
Asina gave a sinister little snicker. “Of course you wouldn’t,” she crooned. “Though I suppose that wouldn’t make me a very good queen if I put my people in danger like that.” Pity, because most of the time clothing just made her feel so disgustingly claustrophobic. And all too often it seemed to just get in the way.
Thankfully, Ciel was quick about rectifying that particular annoyance His claws slashed through her thin shirt, peeling the blood-drenched cloth from her body and then slicing through her breastband. It made her smile, the little growl he uttered as he disposed of the tight binding she used to confine her chest on a daily basis. She knew that he hated the thing, as he’d muttered numerous times, and the passion with which he usually tore it away was more than just a little telling. Although a part of her did find it vaguely annoying that she was continuously having to replace them.
Right now, though, she hardly cared. She just wanted his hands on her. All over her. She wanted to feel the bite of his claws against her skin, the touch of his teeth to her pulse. She wanted it. And she always got what she wanted.
As his hands slid over her body she rose up to a sitting position, her whole body rolling with the motion. Her smile gleamed wickedly down at him as her hands trailed over her chest, talons leaving shallow divots in his skin that quickly filled with his sweet, intoxicating blood. Oh, and it was so tempting. So terribly tempting. Even over the scent of all the blood that had riddled the ground around them, his was still so potent, and it made her hungry for him.
He pulled her down and she snarled at him in response, nipping at his mouth before sliding down his body, lips, tongue, and teeth teasing the shallow wounds she had made in his flesh. The taste of his blood made her groan and grind against him, grip tightening on him even as she pushed herself up to straddle him again. Her talons hooked in the waist of his pants and with a quick slice she’d effectively removed them enough to release his glory.
Golden eyes flickered to his face and she smirked at him, stroking his stiff length with the smooth side of a talon, teasing him. The touch made her catch her breath, to feel all of that quivering potential against her talon, her finger, then resting against the palm of her hand. She gripped him and moaned softly, her eyes closing as she rolled her hips against the past of him, still confined in her own pants. She ached for him so much it almost hurt.
“Mm, Ciel-mine,” she cooed, eyes opening again to bare down at him, one hand still cupping him, rubbing him, as the other raked down his chest.
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Post by libellule on Jan 10, 2011 0:59:02 GMT -6
Ciel’s growl was full of annoyance as she played and toyed with him. The little pricks and divots she teased him with was all so annoying. “This game,” he rumbled darkly, his queen above him on her glorious perch. He could smell her want, it was mixed in with the luscious blood drenched scent of this massacre that lay around them. Never had he felt like such an invincible warrior, the blood covering his chest and arms like the highest patterns of war paint. “Come now priestess,” he hissed as she ripped his pants clear from him. His muscles released as his head leaned back against the forest floor and relaxed. His breathing was deep and shuddering as her nails found their ways to his aching shaft, throbbing for her, her touch. Oh he wanted her.
The way her caress sent electrifying stings throughout him made him groan. Her fingers, her hands, her scent. “Asina,” it was so raspy, so filled with delicious lust it drenched them both. A slow tongue rose to flick over his long, gleaming canine promising paint, promising pleasure. She would shriek for him tonight.
The most powerful creature in existence would beg him for more.
He allowed himself one more moments of restraint before he gave her /exactly/ what she wanted. Mm. Her hands were so warm and sensual against him. Hn… “Yes,” he purred erotically, his red optics glinted so wickedly as he stared up at her. With a vicious growl, the beast was unleashed and he ripped the fabric from her legs, freeing her in one swift moment as he shifted them, pushing her back roughly against the ground and him forward to fall on top of her.
With one leg as his chest and her other at his knee, he slipped into those folds that were begging to receive him. His moan was shuddering as his eye closed against it. An arm locked her leg at his collarbone as he tore into her neck, feasting like a starving animal. His rhythm was ferocious, primal, and so electrifying. Not breaking a thrust he pulled barely away from her bloodied skin, her scent blinded him, her warmth driving him into such a flurry of lust. “You are mine,” he growled possessively, “Tell me. Say it, Asina.”
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Post by Willow on Jan 10, 2011 23:44:07 GMT -6
The way he shuddered under her touch filled her with such a deep and unwavering pride that she wanted to scream it to the world. She wanted them all to know what she did to her mate, how she and only she could touch him like this, how she and only she could cause such a deep reaction in him.
Oh, she knew what he was. She knew /exactly/ what he was.
He was Ciel the Soulless. He was the Adonis of Agony, the Harbinger of the Beautiful Death. The Final Touch.
He had so many names, countless, and all of them were tinged with both fear and awe, saturated with mystery and longing. It was something that filled her with more pride than she knew she had ever expressed to him. He was such a fearsome thing, such a terrifying and a powerful force, and he knew it. He was as proud and arrogant as his kind was warrant to be. Oh yes, proud, arrogant, violent. It was part of what he was. He was one of the only races that could claim itself to be immortal and was terribly powerful on top of that. A true force to be reckoned with, and he was all hers.
Her and only hers. In every way. Her claim was on him as one of her people, more specifically one of her demons, one of her zephyrs –who by race were as bound to her as the tide to the glory of Saelir’s glow–, and he was her mate.
All of his wonder, his power, his force, his adoration and his possession, his obsession and his love, his sex and his wrath. It was all hers.
He rasped her name and she shuddered. Those eyes of him glinted up at her and she had but a moment before her back was against the slick, hard ground and he was sliding inside of her, too much the warrior and too much the demon to waste the momentum. He drove into her, trapping her legs as his mouth latched to her neck and she felt those sharp canines pierce the smoothness of the flesh, her blood seeping across his tongue as if it were drawn to it by nature’s own demand.
Growls, snarls, moans, and tiny screams locked in her throat. Sounds of pleasure, sounds of pain. He was driving her fast, hard, immediate, primal. It was exactly what she needed, what she wanted, what was driving her as much as it was driving him. His face pulled back from her neck just enough, just enough to murmur that possession, and she acted. She used the momentum of his own body and rolled them so that she was on top of him, one foot bracing the ground near his chest and the other knee beside his hip. Within a flash she had shifted her position to better ride him, her body never pausing, keeping up his rhythm without a single lag. Long, deadly talons raked lines over his shoulders and down his chest, back up his flesh to curl against his neck even as the wound on her own visibly healed. It was smooth, perfect flesh smeared with still wet and hot blood by the time she snarled down at him with a smirk.
Her hips slammed down over him, rolling him, taking in every inch of him. For a moment her eyes tempered and that demonic devotion, that affection, that possession was bright and clear.
“Yours,” she hissed, leaning down to nip at his collar bone. “All yours, and you are mine, Ciel. Say it.” Her teeth sunk in, her mouth working at the wound like it was the most prized liquid in all the worlds. And it was. To her, it was. Her face lifted, smeared and stained with his blood, golden eyes drunk and hazy with it and still filled with that fire only he could sate.
“Say it,” she hissed, baring her fangs at him, talons cutting him.
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Post by libellule on Jan 14, 2011 22:56:44 GMT -6
There was only one thing that mattered. Only one thing that had a purpose in this world. In this moment, in his bloodlust, and it was Asina. The only thing that his existence, his beserkered thrived on was her and her pleasure. It was the only thing he could sate and provide for. Everything else was nothing.
Gods she felt so good against him, her tiny lithe body, skimming, scraping across him. And her taste… He shuddered. It was like a gift from Saelir herself, bringing him the most savory blood his lips had ever fallen on. His deserved prize for his torment.
She was so delicious against him. Her shrieks, her moans… they drove him to bite harder, suck stronger. Her blood was like fuel to his soul, it made him darker, stronger, malicious… dangerous. His growl was incredibly powerful as it vibrated through him.
He wanted to decimate her.
He was lost in his blood driven reverie as she flipped him. His uncontrollable surprise roared through him as he snapped at her, his claws in her sides, digging deeply as she rode him. His grip loosened slightly as her petite fangs pierced into him,
Her talons stroked his fury and made his pleasure rise as he groaned, his breath laboring against her rhythm. His claws, with their deadly grip, matched her, pulling her down on him, harder and faster then she could alone. His hips rose to her, pumping right back. “Asina,” his pleasure filled groan with laced with a smirk as he looked up to her,
“I am whatever you want me to be…”
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Post by Willow on Jan 14, 2011 23:51:41 GMT -6
His talons dug into her. Her blood spilled and then wounds healed. It was luscious, potent pain and it made her hiss with pleasure and arousal. He ripped into her in more ways than one and she was loving every moment of it. More, she needed, more she wanted, and more he gave. She didn’t even need to say anything, he just grabbed her and helped her slam down over him, his hips rising to meet her. Still she rode him, golden eyes nearly glowing as they locked with the crimson of his own.
It was all there. Everything she needed. Everything she craved. He submitted to her if she needed him to, but he took control when he wanted. He was so powerful, a force to be reckoned with, a creature to be controlled or owned by no one but himself. And he was hers. He admitted it, he gave himself to her willingly and whole-heartedly. He was hers.
Just as she was his.
“Yes,” she hissed at him, the shag of her hair falling around her face as she looked down at him, hands braced on his chest as her hips moved over him, building them up faster, harder. Almost desperately. “You are.” He was.
Her gaze was intense as she rode him, locking their sights. “You are my mate. My Parallel.” Parallel. That was an old term. A very old term. It was an acknowledgement of equal standing. Among demons, there was almost always some kind of a dominant-submissive balance. It was what helped the relationships not end up in death of one or both of the members. But declaring Parallel? It states that both have the right of dominance. Both had equal say over the other.
A very powerful thing.
The moment after she said it the air seemed to ring inaudibly. There was a different feeling in it, as if something important had happened, some power had heard her and was somehow putting those words into effect. Asina noticed, and she smiled.
“Don’t you agree?” she cooed, the growl in her voice growing as she dug her talons into his shoulders. They were so close, so terribly close. She could feel him inside of her, taking her over, pulsing and filling her up. It made her moan, made her snarl, made her cry out with passion and pleasure and the edge of pain that stimulated her whole body.
When it hit, the whole forest was aware. She threw her head back and sang her pleasure to the sky as her body shuddered with its release.
So perfect. That was what he was. For her, he was so perfect. No one had ever or would ever fill her like he could, like he did. Because there would be no one else for either of them. Her body relaxed, eyes still a molten gold as she sagged slightly to look down at him, a satisfied smirk on her face.
However, when she leaned in to nip at his mouth, she froze. Her whole body went rigid, completely still as her eyes narrowed to take in the sight of something in the near distance, something that she hadn’t seen during the slaughter and certainly not while Ciel had been such a delicious distraction. But right now, as the first haze settled momentarily, she spotted something and internally she recoiled because even though she knew exactly what it was she didn’t want to accept it.
Asina had rolled off Ciel and was striding toward the shallow pit in an instant, making no sound even as she stood at the edge and looked down at the iron stake driven partway into the ground. There were stones in the base of the pit, deeply powerful stones that needed to soak up the power of the sun and the moon for three straight days. Then they needed to be soaked in the blood of the enemy and burned over the ashes of a dryad. A spell.
It was the spell Lilani used to attack during the Second Purge. The spell that almost wiped out all of her people had she not turned it on Lilani herself. The spell that would have wiped out everyone left in the forest and an access pot to her power if it had been activated within the forest.
These puppets. They hadn’t been sent here to attack her or her people directly. It had been sent here to prepare a spell. For Lilani. Then Lilani would come and activate that spell. Activate it and attempt a Third Purge.
Asina’s hands were in fists, her talons ripping into her palms. Power swelled around her. There was only one thing on her mind right now.
Asina lifted her face to the sky, dark as pitch with only the light of the stars and a crescent moon. Then she let out a ferocious war cry.
And vanished through the trees. It was no guess where she was going.
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Post by libellule on Jan 15, 2011 0:41:40 GMT -6
He didn’t let go. His hands remained completely attached to his mate, his priestess. His hips thrust into her and her hips came crashing down on him. His groans meshed together and he simply couldn’t focus on anything else. The pleasure and want she built with him was like a heated tower begging to be pushed over, to be released.
’You are my mate. My Parallel.’
He felt his beserker recede slightly at the sound of her hazy filled statement. Had she realized what she had just said? She was giving him giving equality… to her. The ringing, the buzzing, in the air had his skin scorching as he felt something fill him with a broadened perspective of her, of the forest, of himself.
“My Parallel,” he answered boldly, agreeing, to her cry, to her shriek, to the way her passion coaxed his release. He growled darkly, working her hips through her orgasm, stroking it dry. He pulled her to his hips before he groaned in the bliss she gave him, his face set with a beautiful snarl, as he released inside of her.
No there was nothing else for him, but her. Asina, his precious little enchantress. Hm. He grunted softly as she relaxed against him and he draped a hand across her back, lightly stroking her skin in a soothing manner.
He awaited her love bite, awaited her feisty compliment. The way her frame froze against him in some frigid tense nature had a vicious growl tear through him. Nothing took her attention from him without consequence… Something was going to pay dearly for this interruption.
She had left his embrace without a second to spare and he was on his feet. Her anger was rising, almost scorching… His mood became hostile and furious, his beserker still very much intact, he could feel the forest flex with him, shudder down his back muscles as he observed with his queen. His eyes fell on the stake as he bared his teeth ferociously, he had heard rumors of this… tool of genocide and all who were not bared from it.
As her power surged, his reason solidified around him as the beserker paced, restricted, begging to be released again. As much as he wanted to destroy that city of damned and betrayers this was not the time nor place…
Her cry sliced through him. It cut him so deep he felt his knees collapse as they hit the ground and he gasped for air that was sucked from him for her scream. She disappeared from his sights and his eyes closed, the pulse of the forest, now his forest, thrived beneath his knees as he fell on his hands. He knew where she was going, knew she was blindly running to her unplanned death. His breathless growl echoed through the trees
His breathing slowed as he felt time stop and his eyes rose, open, clear…
Molten gold.
“She cannot leave the forest,” he commanded, feeling the ground flex and the roots of trees block out the light as they wove natural barriers of their essence on every exit. He sifted through the souls of this beautiful place, landing on its demons stallions, who were as tense as he was. “Speed,” he commanded the unseen creature, a thunderous whinny surged his frame as he bolted from his fallen stance.
Borrowing its speed, the zephyr tore through the trees, jumped obstacles, and raced to her. Asina. His vision tunneled as he spotted her. He had one shot to catch her. One miss, and she would break through, find Lilani… and die for nothing. His roar was furious, he could not let that happen.
He leapt with faith, his frame, cloaking her like the shadow of a hawk over a fish too close to the surface. His claws dug into her skin as he tumbled down on her, encasing her in his embrace. It was ironclad, she would have to rip his arms off in order to get him to left go.
They rolled to a stop as his growl was loud and vicious. “Asina,” he stated darkly, lowly, “Stop this.”
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Post by Willow on Jan 15, 2011 1:14:44 GMT -6
The Certann Forest felt her need, was being fed by her power and was pushing her forward. Asina was a creature formed of this place and apart from it, and it spoke to her. It reacted to her, molded to her. It bent to her will, her unspoken desires. It would follow her every whim. It would mold around anything she imagined. She could draw upon its power and it would give it up willingly to her. Gladly even. Any creature within these trees was her creature. Any creature that fed off the land was hers.
It was something that she’d almost forgotten in her time away from its loving embrace, and it was something that she relished in now. The forest moved her forward, making her movement faster…
Until it stopped.
All of a sudden it began to almost work against her. The forest shuddered and stormed as if unsure of what to do, but another mind had dominion now. One tied to her. One parallel with her. One with control and logic in this moment where she had none, and the forest could scent that. The forest knew that. The forest knew what was most important and the forest followed.
It was a neutral power, but it knew who to follow. It knew that its commander was a sane, logical mind. So it naturally followed the sensible path.
After all, the forest itself was alive.
Oh, but it could not stop her. It could frustrate her, even slow her down, but it could not stop her. A raw, angry roar tore from her throat as she raced forward, her steps never faltering. Hands were curled into dangerous claws, her talons ready to rip apart any obstacle in her way. It didn’t matter who or what it was at that moment. She was wild. She was in full-blown berserker, not just lost within her own mind. Oh no, it went much further than that. It was the demon’s berserker mode. Usually she pulled back, she could hover in the rage and still think unless she was weakened from using too much of her power, but this wasn’t the case. Asina had chosen sanity over power, but she was the Queen of Demons, and a demon herself for that fact. And no demon could escape the mindless rush of the full berserker.
But a force slammed into her, held onto her as they were thrown to the ground. Oh, she thrashed. She fought and she snarled. Her arms were constricted to her sides but her body writhed and thrashed about, trying to throw herself free as she tangled with the form that had DARED to get in her way. Whoever it was would die. They would die. They would scream. They would bleed and they would be in agony worse than a thousand tortuous deaths in the instant that she slaughtered them. All it would take was one push of power, and they would die. She knew it. Oh she knew it all too well Just one push. And it would die.
‘Asina. Stop this.’
His power enveloped her. A power that was now twined within her own. Tightly knit. Parallel. She could smell him and he soothed her. She continued to snarl, but her body stopped struggling. Her intent to kill her assaulter dying in an instant. Because it was not he that she wanted to kill. Oh, had she wanted to kill him nothing would stop her, but because he was /not/ her intended victim and because… because it was him… and he was the only one that could ever reach her.
Her breathing was heavy and ragged. “I’ll kill her, Ciel. She needs to die. I need to kill her.”
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Post by libellule on Jan 15, 2011 2:20:28 GMT -6
Damn was she a hard little thing to hold on to… His mind was beginning to focus once more, away from the delicious sense he was in moments before. Her snarls were pleas to him to set her free. Her thrashing and writhes, growls and roars made him want to set her free. They made him want her to bring an onslaught, to bring a wave of red that plunged that city and that world into oblivion, into complete destruction.
He almost felt his mind give an order to loosen his grip. Almost. Her thrashing stopped momentarily for all he knew. He would not let go, he could not let go of her. He felt her chest rise and fall quickly, her pants were ragged and her teeth were bared. She was blind to anything but the creature he was restraining her from.
His lips touched his mark, his precious claim. He needed to soothe her, captivate her. “I will not keep you from anything you need to do, my dear,” he told her softly, easing her fire as he sat up, her, enclosed in his massive arms. He cradled her to him, his lips moving against her skin, his marked skin.
“I will not stop you from doing and taking what is your right to destroy…” His voice was barely audible as a guttural hum sounded deep in his throat. And the next words /were/ harsh.
“But I am sworn to protect you, priestess. Sworn to die for you. You may claim you have no need for protection, my claim that you have everything planned out… But this… this is not something you can beserk through. You must be in the focused of spaces in your heart, your mind….”
His voice felt to a murmur again.
“Your soul.”
“Don’t worry, Parallel,” he murmured, feeling the forest surge around them and warm them, “She will die. You will kill her. You will bring forth beauty, you will bring it all back to the throne it deserves. But you will do it considered… I will not let you cleave your way blindly through.”
He nipped at his mark, cradling her, in the warm darkness.
“And you will not cleave alone…”
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Post by Willow on Jan 15, 2011 3:06:15 GMT -6
What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immoveable object?
Her whole being was on fire. It was enraged. Wild. Crazed. Every fiber of her soul was hell-bent on finding her way to that bitch and tearing her apart. Now. She needed to go. She needed to stop her. Needed to rip her apart and make her pay for all of the people that she had had no right to slaughter. Needed to exact revenge on behalf of her people, who did not deserve the kind of genocide that had been brought upon them by that psychotic golden cunt. That diseased creature. That horrid, filthy thing. That bitch who decided without any kind of declaration that not only did she, Asina, need to perish, but so did all of her people.
And she killed the forest. She killed it!
Asina wanted to scream. She wanted to tear out of Ciel’s arms and make her way to Lilani. No. She needed to. She needed to GO! She needed to stop this. Before it happened all over again. Before more of her people were subjected to that lunatic’s whims and her power! The power. The power that only she could push against. The power that she, too, held within her but which she had to pay a very dear price every time that she used it. It would take so much to kill Lilani. The moment the bitch was dead she would be helpless, and then she would die. Someone would kill her right there and everything would have been for nothing. Then her people wouldn’t have anyone to guide them, wouldn’t have anyone to protect them. With both her and Lilani dead…
There were arms around her, a warm body that she didn’t realize she’d been clinging to. Lips were moving softly against the mark on her neck, soothing her. Her muscles still jumped, her body jerked involuntarily, but for the most part she was still, silent as he crooned to her. She could almost understand what he was saying.
‘Don’t worry, Parallel…’
Parallel. A wry laugh fell from her lips and she shook her head, her hands coming up to shield her face as she forced herself to breath, fighting the berserker that raged inside of her, screaming for the death of the assailer. It took long, almost painful minutes, and during that time she leaned into Ciel. She let herself sink into the embrace of his power and his warmth. She could feel the forest around them, feel it responding, feel it keeping little annoyances away, feel it giving them peace. The power of it twined around them as if trying to give some kind of comfort, and all she wanted to do was reach back out and assure it that she would kill the thing trying to destroy its remaining limbs.
“You don’t remember, Ciel,” she said softly with a shake of her head, “because you were not yet around. You were not yet born. Those of us left from that time do not speak of it because…” her voice choked “…because we do not like to think of all that has been lost. But you have heard enough murmurings, you have read your histories and you have heard my nightmares.” Her eyes flicked up to him, black, sane, miserable eyes filled with a deep and seething undercurrent of raw rage. “The Certann Forest used to cover almost all of what is now Ameghda. Can you imagine that?” Her voice choked again and she held her breath, bowing her head. Never had she spoken like this to anyone. Not even Zanen. Perhaps once, with Merrik, but that wasn’t something she needed to think of right now. “The zephyrs were proud and prominent. They ruled their sections of the forest and answered only to my father and then, for a time, to me. There was war and there was hate, but there was /life/! There was more than mere survival!”
A vicious roar escaped her that was part scream and part wail. It was misery, pain, rage, grief. “I cannot bare that my people are forced to merely SURVIVE!” She took a deep breath and shook her head, her hands clenched in tight fists that when opened and ran over her face streaked fresh blood across her skin.
Another wry, humorless laugh. “But you are right, Parallel. I cannot go in mad and berserk. I cannot rush in and slaughter with no plan.” She shook her head. “I need to protect my people, need to eliminate the enemy, and lack the method.” Her gaze went hard and angry as she gathered all of her iron control, all of her sense and her reason. Then that gaze met Ciel’s again.
“She will suffer, Ciel. She will pay.”
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Post by libellule on Jan 15, 2011 4:00:12 GMT -6
Her laugh was what calmed him even if it was the driest and saddest he had head in quite a long time. He felt her fall into his chest, curve to his every line, he felt her reflex. He sighed inwardly, his grip loosening slightly.
When she spoke he found himself staring off into the blackness that was the shadows of the forest. It was one of the most beautiful things he’d seen. The sounds were deliciously wonderful to his ears. Why did such deserve to suffer through something that seemed so… superficial in relation to its bleak demise…
No doubt the golden queen cared nothing about this forest. She hadn’t done her research, hadn’t care to investigate the purpose of this foreboding place. No. All she wanted was to destroy every black, ominous place within Relmalir. The silly bitch was a complete idiot. Zanen and Danalli had already shown the world and its remaining elders about the truth of shadow and light. Had they even noticed…
Neither could be made without the other.
There was no such thing as a light without a shadow; a shadow was born from the light, the presence of brightness. There was no such thing as a shadow without a light, even at night. It was the stars and the moon that granted the shadows to be so sly and cunning… invisible at night.
Lilani could never destroy every shadowed, corrupted area of Relmalir. She would have to destroy herself in order to do so. Her light traveled with her and created more shadows than she could stand to bear.
His chuckle was dark, realizing, understanding.
“Just because I wasn’t present,” he growled to her, “Does not mean I don’t feel the loss and the pain every time I step in this beautiful place.”
He gripped her tightly as she called to the sky. “Use it, precious,” he crooned darkly, “When you destroy that palace, when you tear her world to the ground and reduce it to rumble… Use all of this. This pain, these memories, your nightmares…
“My beautiful darling… You can make them /all/ hers. Every. Single. Scene. That has ever graced your mind unwillingly… They can be hers before she gets to close her eyes and she can remember everything she’s ever done to you, to you kingdom, with horrific terror that you will fill her with and force her to devour…”
“Oh she will suffer, my dear, my Asina,” his teeth grazed her skin, her luscious skin, a sadistic heated whisper ghosting across her, sure to bring goosebumps,
“They will hear her tortured screams in the sands of Qu’ria for the demise you will wring her with.”
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Post by Willow on Jan 16, 2011 0:54:16 GMT -6
Mm. His words were a seduction that filled her up with all of that dark knowledge that she could do exactly what he said. It would be a small power, in fact. It was one of her gifts, to bring the darkness to the forefront, to show someone their most terrifying nightmares, and she could wield that power with awful results. After all, she had been trained by her father.
Asina turned in his embrace so that she faced him, her legs moving so that they were on either side of his waist as she sat on his lap. “Yes,” she murmured softly as she watched her hands trace up his chest and over his shoulders, along his neck until she could cup his face. A malicious smirk teased across the perfect, petite curves of her lips before she leaned in and captured his own. She took him slowly at first, deepening the kiss moment by moment, wanting him to feel everything. Not just the lust and the passion. The demonic possession. She wanted him to feel that sense of ‘other’ that connected them as mates. Their souls beating against each other. Parallel. Oh, and she could feel it as the embrace tightened, she could feel the power of it not so much rise as flow. Because it was something that didn’t need to rise. It was ever-present. It was something that beat through them like blood through a single body. Always flowing, always thriving.
An ancient power.
“I know how to defeat her,” she crooned to him in a tone that was low and husky, near seductive. “The Lightbringer. She will enable me to cut off that twit from the power that she chose over the ability to govern her people. And when she is vulnerable, we will strike.” A smooth, smoky purr rolled from her throat and across his skin as she rubbed her mouth over the curve of his neck and shoulder. Sharp canines pricked the skin, teasing the sweet flesh.
“We,” she said again. “You walk beside me now, step for step Ciel. My pain is your pain…” A deep and unrelenting pain struck through her chest. It was physical as it was mental and she gasped, her nails pricking his shoulders as her body bowed and arched with it. She shuddered, swallowed a strangled cry, and when the wave passed let out a few pants. Then her eyes snapped up to his and they were dark, stormy, hot. “My vengeance, yours.” Her eyes flicked down again and she lapped her tongue over that sweet spot she had been nibbling on. Her teeth grazed him again. “Do you understand?” she murmured to him.
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Post by libellule on Feb 18, 2011 0:31:41 GMT -6
There was something about kisses that made them so incredibly powerful. The way someone could look at you before they descended down on your skin. The way their hands could make your heart skip as you wait to breathe, for fear of ruining the moment.
He had those garnet eyes closed as he felt her palms inch up his chest. The goosebumps that lavished his skin as she crept past the shape of his neck as to his cheeks. His thick massive arms were now wrapped tightly around his lithe queen, placing her flush against him as she placed her lips on his.
Mm. What a beautiful thing she did to him.
It was this kiss that made him feel connected to her, so incredibly connected to her. His soul was no longer alone nor was hers. It would never have to be. It wrapped through his now buzzing skin, slithering and braiding into him. His sigh of bliss was noted through the caress of her lips. She became a part of him as much as he became apart of her. The forest itself even matched their pulse, matched their surge. His eyes opened a beautiful bloodstained bronze, full to the brim with amusement as she spoke so sexily to him. Her teeth snuck into him and he growled playfully, stroking her neck and bringing a hand up to caress her hair.
“Lightbringer…” he trailed off in question, she had never mentioned that before. His sadistic chuckled vibrated through to her.
Her languid dragon embracing solitude and relaxation as she spoke. We will strike. Mm. Good thing she realized by now.
The sharp stab of her nails brought him out of his reverie, his daydream of her beautiful soul. His snarl was deep and vicious as an unfamiliar feeling roared at the outside of his senses, cutting into his conscious thought. Agony. He gritted his teeth, his grip tightening around her as she seemed to be feeling more emotion than he had. Then as if someone had flipped a switched he craved to rip something apart. Craved to decimate a creature that did not deserve to live. Still his grip tightened as that dragon within him raged as hot wicked pleasure scorched up his spine.
The tempting seductress she was… His groan confirmed closer to something of a feral growl as her ministrations followed suit. Oh he was done playing comforter. His teeth were bared to the line of her neck.
The blood that had dried of his skin was much too old. Besides… the fun was just beginning. His appetite was barely soothed. He had come to this place to be vicious… to be unlawful… free.
He ripped her from him, throwing her to the soil and dirt. He was on his feet in mere moments, towering over her in such a menacing way… his way. His claws, encrusted rubies, glinted in the darkened light. He roared at her, as he crouched, the severity and darkness in his swirling eyes. His voice was barely an audible sound it was so untamed.
“Mm… Queenie… What have you gotten yourself into.”
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