07-08-2021, 04:28 PM
mazikeen
Mazikeen moves easily to rest on him when he turns over, smiling into his fur when he promises no more deaths and purring a soft agreement. She does not consider taking advantage of this position, only using it to fit her body into his as she lets contentment wash over her.
And then as they move together again, she leans her head into him and whispers back the words he tells her without hesitation. Her eyes are unfocused and hazy but it’s from this slow pleasure that seeps into every inch of her instead of the nearness of sleep like the last time she had said them. Mazikeen still isn’t sure that love is what this is, the way the darkness and flames inside her stir at his presence, but it is close enough that it must count. It does not bother her that she’s exchanged these words with a different Gale before, she is losing track of what she had felt for that kinder version. The blurred memories are not a drain on her anymore - and maybe she had been falling for the darkness inside him the whole time. She isn’t sure and she doesn’t care, the Mazikeen that was capable of worrying over that no longer exists.
She knows that it is both him and not-him that coaxes these needy sounds out of her - the same body, the same mouth, but a different soul altogether that inspires a thrill at the idea of being his and having him.
“No more deaths,” She repeats afterwards as she nips softly at his shoulder, tugging on the skin and not breaking it. “But we can still play rough.” Her red-orange eyes dance at this, the wicked slant of her grin making it plain that she’d enjoy it if they did. While she very obviously delights in every way they come together, the memory of when they hooked their claws into each other shines through her thoughts and she needs to turn her attention away so she can focus. When they aren’t in the mountains, they can see how loudly they can make each other roar and if the great rocky slopes will tremble - and then he can kiss the wounds he gives her until they heal.
Her eyes find Malik, only just visible in the nest where he sleeps. There is a feather of Gale’s there - one the Curse had given her once, when he was play-acting as the other. Mazikeen cannot remember why she kept it even though she discovered it had been given to deceive her. Perhaps she had just been scrambling at any piece of Gale she could keep, back when she worried about such things.
Now she is sure, now she has every piece of him - and now she knows she’ll do anything to keep him, the Curse, with her forever.
Last winter she had softer dreams of raising a family with Gale. Now there are edges to them but these dreams are no less delightful, and it pleases her to have her son back where he belongs - with them - and to get this second chance after wasting the one she had been given with Sickle. “What do you think he’ll be like?”
And then as they move together again, she leans her head into him and whispers back the words he tells her without hesitation. Her eyes are unfocused and hazy but it’s from this slow pleasure that seeps into every inch of her instead of the nearness of sleep like the last time she had said them. Mazikeen still isn’t sure that love is what this is, the way the darkness and flames inside her stir at his presence, but it is close enough that it must count. It does not bother her that she’s exchanged these words with a different Gale before, she is losing track of what she had felt for that kinder version. The blurred memories are not a drain on her anymore - and maybe she had been falling for the darkness inside him the whole time. She isn’t sure and she doesn’t care, the Mazikeen that was capable of worrying over that no longer exists.
She knows that it is both him and not-him that coaxes these needy sounds out of her - the same body, the same mouth, but a different soul altogether that inspires a thrill at the idea of being his and having him.
“No more deaths,” She repeats afterwards as she nips softly at his shoulder, tugging on the skin and not breaking it. “But we can still play rough.” Her red-orange eyes dance at this, the wicked slant of her grin making it plain that she’d enjoy it if they did. While she very obviously delights in every way they come together, the memory of when they hooked their claws into each other shines through her thoughts and she needs to turn her attention away so she can focus. When they aren’t in the mountains, they can see how loudly they can make each other roar and if the great rocky slopes will tremble - and then he can kiss the wounds he gives her until they heal.
Her eyes find Malik, only just visible in the nest where he sleeps. There is a feather of Gale’s there - one the Curse had given her once, when he was play-acting as the other. Mazikeen cannot remember why she kept it even though she discovered it had been given to deceive her. Perhaps she had just been scrambling at any piece of Gale she could keep, back when she worried about such things.
Now she is sure, now she has every piece of him - and now she knows she’ll do anything to keep him, the Curse, with her forever.
Last winter she had softer dreams of raising a family with Gale. Now there are edges to them but these dreams are no less delightful, and it pleases her to have her son back where he belongs - with them - and to get this second chance after wasting the one she had been given with Sickle. “What do you think he’ll be like?”
@
Gale