[ Just one more day, he keeps telling himself. One more day, and things will turn around. They'll start to get better. It's only a matter of time, right? Prompto believes in their love more than he believe in just about anything else. Alisaie will come around. He only needs to continue to be patient with her, show his support in every way he can without coming on too strong, and let her remember their time here together. How good it was, and how happy they were. It's only a matter of time.
Except that...it isn't. They days tick by. Life goes on, but it isn't the same, and the natural rift between them brought on by her time away in Norvrandt doesn't begin to heal the way he expects it to. They sleep separately, not just for the first night, but for days, weeks, until it because a habit in itself, that restless sleep he obtains why they shuffle between the bed and the couch, wordlessly switching off where they sleep alone. It doesn't get easier, the empty space beside him. Knowing she sleeps only a wall away only makes it worse, the silence punctuated by every small noise they make in their time apart in the night.
When they rise, they fall into a simple rhythm, patterns that echo with what they used to be, and it gives Prompto hope. They still cook together sometimes — it's a good distraction for their hands and minds. They take Pea for walks, they go to work and shop and see their friends. They function as normal, but not as them. Not as Alisaie and Prompto. Their physical contact is brief, they don't kiss, they don't say I love you, and they certainly don't attempt anything intimate. At first, Prompto is happy to do it, to give Alisaie the space that she needs to grow accustomed to being here again, to being around him again, but then the days turn into weeks, and for one who thrives on physical affection like Prompto, the distance is...suffocating. It sows seeds of panic in his heart, and while they take time to truly form and take root against his unrelenting hopefulness, those doubts are getting harder and harder to drown out.
He only lets it get to him in the dead of night, when he's sure she must be asleep. Still, he keeps his sniffles as quiet as he can, and wipes the tear tracks from his cheeks.
But it's just one more day. And one more after that, and one more after that. Even Prompto, in his infinite hopefulness and optimism, cannot hope to keep the demons in his own heart at bay forever, and he isn't delusional. Things...aren't getting better. They haven't changed. And while he refuses to push Alisaie in any direction to allow her to be as comfortable and accommodating as possible while she adjusts, how long will she need? When will she let him in again?
Then it doesn't become a question of "if", but "when" will she let him in again.
He should talk to her about it. He knows he should, but he's never been great at confrontation, especially starting it. Instead, he continues what he's been doing, but even that seems to be wearing on Alisaie's nerves. She becomes shorter and shorter with him, snapping at him over little things, leaving the room in hurried huffs, and there doesn't seem to be anything he can to do keep things from spiraling out of control. She doesn't want him to be sweet, she doesn't want him to be jovial, she doesn't want him to be quiet — it's like nothing he can do is right, and more and more what he fears most becomes apparent. Maybe he's been lying to himself all along.
Alisaie isn't trying to work up to allowing herself to love him again. She's trying to figure out how to handle a boyfriend she no longer loves. And it...just makes sense, doesn't it? She was gone for a whole goddamn year. She changed. To expect her to come back here and just love him again is ludicrous. He's ready to love her for the rest of her life, but if she doesn't feel the same...
Gods, to even think it makes him feel dizzy and sick. Just one more day...surely, things will turn around.
The place they once called their home together now feels hostile and uncomfortable, the new miserable status quo. Neither of them are happy, but they're still trying. Or, at least, neither of them will address what is wrong, and they continue to go through the motions. Until Alisaie snaps again, over something simple he says, something inconsequential. The timing of the moons doesn't help, and with all three in full swing, and Sanguis is beginning to boil hot in his blood. Before he can get in another word, though, she leaves, heading out for some "fresh air", though it's clear she doesn't intend to return anytime soon.
And isn't that just how it's been lately? Maybe she'll return after he goes to bed so she won't have to deal with facing him again. With the guilt, or the awkwardness, or whatever the hell it is that she's feeling. He wouldn't know it, because his heart feels closed off to him. She's still trying, but for what? What's the point in trying to make him believe this lie anymore? It's — it's just —
He can't take one more day. This needs to end. Confrontation comes much, more easily to him as Sanguis settles in full into his bones, as does his ability to track. He leaves the apartment and steps out into the cool evening air, Alisaie's scent drifting upon the breeze, and he moves swiftly. Not quite a wolf, but not quite a man, either. Thick patches of fur form along his forearms and shoulders (and elsewhere, wink wonk), his nails grow sharp, his telltale(tail) ears and tail sprout as usual. Alisaie's scent is easy to follow, even if there is something...different about it this month.
Something he can't identify until he at least finds her, out by the beach, bathed in the light of the three moons. Her usual fox features have been cranked up to eleven, a number of graceful, sleek tails sprouting at her back, and the pheromones she gives off are considerably more potent than normal, which is saying something. It's...immediately distracting, but not enough to deter Prompto from why he came here. From why he sought her out in the first place.
Hesitating only a moment, he approaches her, fists already balled tightly at his side. ]
Just stepping out for some "quick fresh air", huh?
[ That quick fresh air sure turned into staying away from home for several hours instead. ]
alisaie was sure that it would only be a matter of time. she remembers, after all - she remembers all of her time here, and her time with the circle. she remembers every moment spent with prompto, she remembers touching him and kissing him and how it felt to be in love with him, and it was not truly so very long ago. a year is no short amount of time, but neither is it an eternity, and as she settles back into life here the memories become stronger and stronger, until it feels almost natural to be here again.
.. almost.
yet still she feels like an outsider, like a puzzle piece that does not fit forced into place. it isn't only with prompto. it's everything. it's quick, easy meals. it's the quiet sound of the water. it's the streets thronging with people and prismals, all content, all happy, all living their lives without the threat of doom hanging over their heads. it's waking up every day to eat pancakes and work in a little book shop as if she has not spent the last year fighting for her life and the lives of countless others, watching her friends and loved ones suffer, helping hundreds of lives pass to the sunless sea before they could change into something painful and terrible.
she does not know how to adapt to everyday life again, and it is not getting easier, but instead more and more frustrating.
mayhaps she could speak with prompto - it might help. in the past she very well might have. but there is so much pain and disease in her heart that she has yet to process, and she does not know how to bring herself to speak about it, to tell him, or anyone, how she is feeling and, more importantly, why she is feeling that way. how can she explain that she cannot accept being happy and normal? how wrong is that, how foolish does it sound, even to her own ears? it's ludicrous. humiliating. she should be happy that there is peace here, and she is.
but gods, her heart is a thunderous tumult.
she takes it out on him. she knows she does. it's as if she can see her behavior through her own eyes and do nothing to stop it - the words are out before she can bite them back. she is snappish, and miserable, everything drives her mad, fuels her anger, and it is burning her up inside, eating her alive; she has no idea how to make it stop before it is too late and there is nothing of her left. and in this great storm of her heart and mind and spirit, how can she possibly find the time or energy to sort out her feelings for him? to find a way to love him again, when she cannot even find a way to simply exist here in peace? it's too much to contend with.
the evening air is crisp and chill, especially on the beach, where the ocean wind blows strong over the white-capped waves and catches in the hair she pulls down from its braid. it weaves through thick tufts of fur as the night wanes on and the moons rise high in the sky, changing her as it always does, though a little differently now. nine thick, lustrous tails, her ears tall and proud, her eyes a sharp and luminous gold - she looks as fierce and wild and dangerous as she feels, and when prompto's voice carries on the air she turns quickly, her tails lashing like whips behind her, angry and snapping. ]
What, would you prefer that I write you a schedule, next time? Or will you follow me like a wild dog, instead?
[ she says, her voice low and her long ears laid back against her hair. immediately she feels guilty for her tone, but her sense of reason is washed away by her own frustrations amplified by the light of the cordis moon, and his own fierce tone. he challenges her not only with his words and voice, but with his body, his posture, his scent, and gods she is ready to engage, to sink her teeth and claws into him and loose all the tension and fury on him that she has been only barely restraining for weeks. he offers her an outlet and she takes it without hesitation, all of her body tensing, leaning in his direction, sharp clawed toes digging bare into the sand, her too-bright eyes flickering in the dim evening light. ]
Is that what you need, little doggy? My constant attention? Shall I rub your belly and feed you a bone, as well?
[ Oh, how it rankles, how it stings, like a slap in the face, even if he's the one who came here as the aggressor. Alisaie doesn't even try for an apology before she's tearing into him, belittling him, and for all he might joke about his typical Sanguis appearance outside his moon phase, when it beats high in the sky, he can only feel deeply, deeply insulted and infuriated by her words. She treats him like a little pup, disdainful and mocking, and at once, the fury throbs in his blood. Is this...what she really thinks of him? Does she just see him as needy and desperate, like a parasite she doesn't know how to get rid of?
In any other state, this alone would be enough to break him, to reduce him to tears, but not now. Not when Sanguis is in control. She steps towards him and he does not step back, but forward himself, his eyes flashing dangerously, teeth bared in a grimace. It is not too unlike his encounter with Ardyn, he realizes in the back of his mind. He too goaded him with belittling words. And while Prompto has enough control over himself not to hurt Alisaie physically, the same cannot be said for the sharp words upon his tongue that sit like daggers, ready to be spewed. ]
Yeah, it'd kill you to throw me a bone, wouldn't it? Checks out, since you act like you can barely stand to be in the same room with me.
[ She was supposed to be someone who never grew sick of him. Who never grew tired of him, of his quirks and his big personality. She told him he was beautiful, that he was good enough, and now he isn't.
He swallows against the lump in his throat, focusing on his anger instead. ]
But lemme guess — it's not about me, isn't it? It's always been about you being comfortable and happy, no matter how long you make me wait. I wore you down last time, huh? Is that it? But that's not working this time. Doesn't work when you're too scared to face your own feelings, huh?
[ It's cruel. It's unfair. But his heart is bleeding, and with Sanguis firing on all cylinders in his blood, he can't stop it. ]
[ she will regret it, later. the things she has said and is saying, the things she will say, her temperament, her anger, her frustration - she will regret all of it. but the moons are high and their light feels unbearably strong. mayhaps it is this special transformation, the lingering effects of the wine they forced on her and all the changes it brought, but alisaie is positively feral, thoughtless, a being of instinct and reaction. ]
I never asked for any of that!
[ she growls, sharp fangs flashing in the moonlight as she moves closer still, circling him like prey, her tails thick and bristly, puffed and writhing like snakes. ]
You make these sacrifices of your own choice, do not dare to blame me because you are too afraid to face your life - and yet you dare accuse me of - of --
[ it stings, and she deserves it, she knows - she is throwing words at him like daggers, and so it stands to reason that he would throw them right back, yet still they sink right into the meat of her heart, hooking in, holding fast. he isn't wrong. she has told him of norvrandt, but she has not told him everything, she has not told him what keeps her up at night, or of the plaguing nightmares, how she jumps at shadows, how it feels always as if she is just waiting for the other shoe to drop. she hasn't told him the important things, and it is not because she does not trust him, but because.. she is afraid. ]
Do not think I have not noticed how you tiptoe around me like a frightened little pup, because you cannot stand the idea of being on your own.
[ She doesn't deny it. That he wore her down, that eventually she just...gave in. He still believes that she loved him, that all those times she told him so in the quiet, private spaces between them were real, but it took a great deal of shared trauma and pain for her to even confess. What if Akvos had never happened? Would they still just be drifting along, their relationship never really defined? Would it be the same feeling between them now, of discontent and confusion and hurt? Would she ever choose to love him without a spectre of fear overshadowing her decision to even be with him?
But it doesn't even matter now, does it? She no longer finds his presence comforting or familiar. She treats him like a stranger, not a lover. Any of the intimacy they had is long gone, instead replaced by this sham of an act while he waits. But he is done waiting. He can't do this anymore.
But neither is she wrong. The thought of being on his own again, of living a life without her is...terrifying. Enough to make him dizzy, and snap him out of his fury for just a moment. ]
I...I-I...
[ No. He won't stand for being treated like this. He won't stand to be hurt like this. Sanguis won't allow it. Sanguis will not be cowed, and neither will Prompto.
He steps in front of her to cut off her pacing around him. A little fox shouldn't play with wolves. ]
Yeah, because I love you! I love you, Alisaie! — Oh, shit, sooo sorry, was I not supposed to say that? Forgot you were allergic to talking to me about anything that matters. Forgot you're so closed off now you don't even know how to let me love you! I get it — you've been through hell, but so have I, and you could, I don't know, maybe try talking to me about it for once without me having to weasel it out of you!
[ His voice goes low, quiet, and lethally serious. ]
I was waiting for you to be ready, but you know what? You're never gonna be. Because you're too goddamn scared. You're chocobo shit.
[ It isn't just this time, even if it's the worst instance so far. But how many times has he withheld things from him that she needed to talk about because she was too afraid to face them? Maybe she trusted him, but she sure as hell doesn't act like it. ]
[ he cuts hard, and deep, and alisaie is, at first, too stunned even to react. he has stepped in her path, challenged her further still, and lanced his words straight through her heart. ]
You have no idea what I have -
[ and that is his point, isn't it? that he has no idea because she has not told him, because she has not opened herself. she is afraid. she does not know how to give words to the pain in her heart. but he takes it so damned personally every time. alisaie grits her sharp teeth, and lunges.
mayhaps it should not come to physicality, mayhaps it is below her, below them, but she has always spoken better with her sword than with her words, even without the light of the moons bearing down on her to greatly amplify it. she's positively rabid. alisaie launches herself at him bodily, with all of her might, slamming him down into the sand and pinning him back. ]
For someone with all the self assurance of a mewling babe, you can be so arrogant!
[ she snaps, baring her fangs ilms from his face, her claws digging into the sand around his wrists to pin them further. this fox is not afraid of wolves. ]
Not everything is about you! My pain is my own, you have no right to it simply because I care for you, if I choose not to tell you, it is not because I have some wild agenda to keep from trusting you - oh poor, poor Prompto, cannot possibly believe I care for him if I do not reveal every single thing! Shall I tear out my heart and lungs and guts for you, and present them upon a silver platter? Would that be enough for you?
[ somehow, she thinks it would not. alisaie's eyes narrow. ]
Your need to be loved is a bottomless hole, nothing will satisfy you!
[ He isn't expecting it when she lunges for him and knocks him backwards into the sound, pinning him back, but to something deep and primal within him, it feels...right. For how much anger and fury clog his thoughts, the smell of her pheromones are still thick upon the air, tantalizing, drawing his heart and his body in two different directions. For a moment, he is winded and surprised enough that he just sucks in breath, and her words crash over him while he's vulnerable, seeping into the cracks in the armor that Sanguis built around his heart tonight.
It's almost enough to break him free, because it breaks his heart clean in two. Everything is falling to pieces, and he feels heedless to stop it. Why is he arguing? She's right. Of course she's right. It's just as he feared. He's too needy. He asks for too much. No one can endure him for long, and eventually, he'll push them all away. That's just how it goes, right? He's a sham of a human, anyway, living a stolen life in a world that shouldn't even exist.
His eyes widen, injured, a whimper catching in his throat, but that is weakness, and Sanguis won't have it. Anger burns bright in his blood again as he squeezes his eyes shut tight, banishing even the thought of tears from them. ]
Oh, sorry, didn't realize I was making myself such a burden when I was trying to help you! I don't want you to tell me everything, I just want to help you so you aren't killing yourself by keeping it all in! So shit like this doesn't happen! We were supposed to work through this together, but you won't even try!
[ And then, quickly, he's moving, surging forward, grabbing for her wrists and with his Sanguis-gifted strength, pushing her onto her back, his weight over her. His holds tight to her wrists, ignoring the heat of her body, the taste of her smell so close and tantalizing, his eyes flashing dangerously. ]
There's something you're not telling me. Isn't there? I knew it since you first told me about Norvrandt. Oh, sure, you told me eeeeverything about it, except about what mattered most to you, about what made you...like this.
[ Closed off. Unreachable. Someone he is so desperately afraid of losing, but it feels inevitable. ]
[ beneath her boiling blood she hates it - how he whimpers, how his eyes go soft and injured. she never wanted this. she never wanted to hurt him, not from the first moment they became friends. he has always been kind, and gentle, and alisaie's protective nature extended to him quickly and effortlessly, and yet now she is the one hurting him.
it feels so wrong.
but then he is surging forward, pinning her into the sand, and the fury is back, with it a swell of heat that crashes down her body, prickling the soft fur on her forearms. without thought her thighs spread to admit him, clamping tightly around his hips, and her breath hitches hard, heat flooding to her face, her ears pinning back. gods it feels.. it feels so good to be close to him again, to be close to him like this, with their blood surging and the moonlight goading them. ]
I don't..
[ she starts, breathlessly, and rather than expel him back her hands grasp his own, her fingers slipping through his, though she holds them hard, singing her sharp claws into the backs of his hands, pricking delicate skin. ]
Like what?
[ she hisses back, at last, her body arching and her fangs gnashing. ]
Like someone who no longer fits, for you? How and when I tell you anything is my choice.
[ This is very quickly turning into a very different kind of argument. Alisaie's thighs part to let Prompto's weight sink between them, and then she's holding fast to him, arching against him. In an instant, he's breathless, heat rising to the surface of his skin, his tail curling at his back. It's been so godsdamned long since he's been close to her like this, and it's...wrong, that it's happening for the first time in weeks (for him, more than a year for her) like this, when they are angry and hurting and not entirely in control of themselves. He...should stop this before they go any further.
...But she smells so nice, so familiar, so tempting, the press of her thighs to his an invitation that he cannot bear to refuse. Maybe it's wrong, but he craves this, he needs this. He has been so starved for affection. This can sate.
Her words still prickle at him, however, and his claws press against the backs of her hands in return as he lifts her arms above her head, sinking lower against her, eyes already hooded with want and desire. With a rough sound lodged in his throat, he dips down, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, dragging his nose along her slender throat, inhaling that scent that makes his body tremble. ]
Then...guess that's it, then, huh? You won't meet me halfway, so what's the point?
[ He pulls back just enough to meet her gaze, then, eyes smoldering and hard, before he slowly, deliberately, rolls his hips against hers, feeling the shape of her against him. ]
But you still want me, don't you?
[ Never mind that he wants her, too, in a fearsome way he has never known before. He doesn't want the soft embrace of a kind, sweet lover tonight. He doesn't want sweet nothings and aftercare. He wants pleasure and pain both in turn. He wants to fuck her like an animal, until neither of them can see straight, until they exist in that sea of boneless, uncomplicated pleasure, where it won't matter that his heart is broken, and he's afraid that he's ruined everything, that there is no coming back from this. ]
[ in a way, it felt as if it was building to this all along, that beneath their angry words this is what they were seeking - a desperate way to reconnect, to find the common ground that they have lost. alisaie has withdrawn, but she misses his warmth every day, she misses the feel of his mouth, and the comfort of his arms.
more than that, she misses when she knew how to want and appreciate it, before everything began to feel strange, and she forgot how to accept affection. despite his arguments, she does try - she tries every day to remember how to reach him, how to be the girl that she once was, even if he cannot see her progress, because there is none to speak of. it is why she is so frustrated, so angry, because every day she tries to fit herself back into the space she left behind, and every day she finds that she cannot.
but now the moons decide for them, erasing the barriers they've kept carefully maintained and stripping away pretense and uncertainty. mayhaps they are being influenced, but these feelings are not false, they are real, only given purpose, and an avenue to manifest at last. ]
Yes.
[ she whispers harshly, and when he dips to nuzzle his face to her throat she growls low in her throat, her body tightening with heat, a prickle coursing down her spine. she does want him, she has wanted to want him for weeks, wanted to remember how to be touched, but her fears and misgivings are dashed by the fox in her blood, unchaining her at last. it may not be gentle touches and sweet kisses she craves, but that is just as well, alisaie has ever preferred a hard and brutal path.
the friction when his hips grind to hers is nearly unbearable, and the growl in her throat gives way to a soft whine instead; without another moment's hesitation she captures his mouth with her own, and sinks her teeth into the tender flesh of his lower lip. ]
[ He is oh-so-eager for her kiss when it comes, brutal as it may be, her sharper-than-normal teeth catching against his lip and making him gasp in mingled pain and enjoyment. There's a rougher aspect to physicality that he has come to realize he likes quite a bit, and while this is quite the different setting from when she had tied him up to their bed and made him her thrall, there is no denying how her ferocity thrills. It's what he wants, what he craves, even if the Sanguis in his blood won't allow him to be as submissive as he usually would. They will fight to be in control, their argument prolonged, but really, will that matter when they're both gasping and groaning?
In retaliation, his tongue lances into her mouth, forceful and eager to taste her, his hips grinding against her again, sending a shiver rocketing down his spine. At last he releases one of her hands, if only so he can drag one clawed finger, over the buttons of her coat, snapping them off until he can push it off her shoulders. ]
I need you...
[ He pleads, and he does. He's so desperately missed this contact, this heat, this intimacy that they used to know so well. His hands splay over her shoulders, pushing away her dress straps and holding fast, while his mouth pulls to the side, seeking the sensitive flesh of her ear, teeth sinking in to soft cartilage. ]
[ she'd always loved his submission, how he would bend so easily to her, it was a dynamic they both respected and enjoyed, both in the bedroom and out of it, because they trusted one another - he trusted her never to abuse her sway over him, and she trusted him to have spine enough to tell her when she went too far. they were such perfect foils, they worked in harmony near all the time.
gods, she misses that..
but this is reminiscent of it, it's a spark, a reminder, a memory of all the times he touched her skin, all the times he kissed her mouth and whispered her name. she might have loved his submission, but she likes this too, the force of his love and need, how willing he is to push for it, fight for it.
her coat already feels far too heavy and restrictive, and the moment he begins to open it she is wrestling her way out of it, leaving it sprawled open beneath her back, her ribs heaving as she gasps for air against his mouth. it's gone, and with one hand free she is able to snag the hem of his shirt, her claws tearing into the thin fabric as she wrenches it up over his back, urging it away. ]
I need you too -
[ she whispers, though it is punctuated by a whine when his teeth sink against her soft ear, the pressure of his teeth lancing bolts of sweet, shivering pleasure straight down her spine and between her thighs, her hips rising to meet his again, seeking heat, and friction. ]
[ He pulls his hands and mouth off her for just long enough to allow his shirt to pass over his head, but then he's pressing near once more, his hands slipping down to ruck up her dress around her waist. The pressure of her hips to his is sinfully, deliriously good, and he hums a deep note of pleasure and torture both, because as sweet as that friction is, it isn't enough. He needs more, as the bulge at the front of his pants gives away.
But he also isn't ready to submit, to let her put his hands on him and carry him away. Instead, he nips at her ear once more, before drawing back, his breathing heavy, meeting her gaze with a wicked kind of grin.
One of his hands slips between her thighs then, his index finger drawing tantalizingly over the already-wet cotton of her panties. ]
Prove it to me.
[ There's a challenge in his words. Which one of them can undo the other first? ]
[ sex had been just about the furthest thing from her mind on norvrandt. she'd been fighting, surviving, working. yet now she has a head full or memories of tender touches and intimate moments, and it has been a long, long year since last she was touched this way, since his hands were on her - even if it has only been weeks for him, for alisaie it has been so much longer, and her body is sensitive to it. even the feather-light drag of his finger against her panties feels like an electric shock, and her hips twitch in response, lifting from the sand, seeking more.
but it won't be that easy.
prove it to me, he says, and alisaie hisses through her fangs again, he luminous eyes narrowed dangerously, but her anger is equally matched now by her need, the pheromones thick in her blood, the heat and desire that she'd held back.
he's left her hand free, and so is scrambles at his back now, over smooth skin and patches of fur. he smells like skin and sweat, like wolf mingled with the salty sea air and it drives her wild, urging her to sink her claws deep against his skin, scratching red welts while she wriggles to free herself, bucking against him, her trapped arm fighting for freedom. ]
Fuck me.
[ she whispers, the words harsh against his lips as she drags her mouth over his own, tasting his breath, breathing him in. ]
[ It's so tempting, to let go of her hand, to free her and let her take the reins. It's what he's most familiar with, what he misses most, the balance, the trust between them, their shared space. He could lie on his back and let her mount him and it would feel good and perfect and right, but then she whispers that harsh command, and Prompto can't relinquish his control. If a fuck is what she wants, then it's what she'll get.
He strokes her again, his fingers skirting along her thighs, before at last dipping beneath the fabric to brush up against the all-to-sensitive folds of skin beneath. But this too is a tease, because instead of stopping to finger her, his claws hook upward quickly, cutting through the fabric of her panties. A breathless laugh huffs against her mouth — that was easier than he thought. ]
Prove it.
[ He challenges again, before he's quickly surging away — and down, pulling away the remnants of her panties so he can dip his head between her legs and feast on her. ]
[ he teases her relentlessly, and he knows what he is doing, he knows that he is driving her out of her mind with want, and that that is exactly what he is trying to do. his fingers brush against her, where she is hot and needful and slick as sin, and all she can do is writhe beneath him, for sanguis gives him strength she cannot hope to bear against.
but before she can even think to find a way to prove it he is moving down her body, between her thighs, and she is lost.
gods, but she had forgotten how good it feels, and how good he is with his mouth - his lips and his soft tongue, his low growling murmurs that vibrate against her - she's overcome within seconds. their argument is buried, dissolved, and all she can feel is the white-hot pleasure, the sinfully slick slide of his tongue, the heat of his mouth, the softness of his lips. he is not gentle, but ravenous as the moons demand, and it is all she can do to give herself over to it, closing her eyes and arching her back, her hips rocking up to the movement of his mouth as the pleasure builds. she has only one free hand still but it is more than enough - alisaie buries it in his thick hair, sinking her claws against his scalp and tugging at the roots of his hair, urging him, but he does not leave her wanting.
had she the wherewithal to be thinking clearly, she might worry that in his mood he would deny her her climax, but for a kindness, he does not. the pleasure builds and builds far more quickly than she had anticipated, but then her body has not felt this sweetness in so long, and she is sensitive as a virgin maid. ]
Prompto -
[ she whispers, the only precursor before her back is arching from the sand, her thighs tensing, twitching as she comes in a flood of heat and pleasure, her cry carried by the ocean wind. claws hook hard into the nape of his neck, holding him in place, her pinned fingers sinking deep into the sand still warm from the summer sun, and she is buoyed by simple, uncomplicated bliss, carried high on its crest until nothing hurts, there is no pain, no confusion, no anger - only the easy, natural pleasure that he knows how to give her so well. ]
[ What she likes hasn't changed. He's known since the first time he tried this how much she likes it, how quickly Alisaie unravels when his mouth is between her thighs, exploring her most sensitive spots, tasting her in such a sweet and sinful way. He's learned what makes her gasp and buck, where to tease and where to give fully, and once he gets into it, it's so easy to fall back into a rhythm that is so familiar that he hardly needs think about it at all. They are back in their bedroom again, making love in the lazy morning sun, like they don't have a single care in the world. And when sex feels this good, what could they have to worry about?
It excites him, too, her desperate sounds, her bucking hips, the way she whines his name before she comes, her fingers buried in his hair. He was hard and full before, but now the pressure against his cock is nearly unbearable. After she finishes, he doesn't move right away, instead nosing to her sensitive skin, inhaling that scent that is positively intoxicating to her pheromone-addled brain. A groan spills from his lips as he finally sits up again, wearing a triumphant smile and licking the taste of her from his lips. ]
I said, prove it.
[ At last, he releases her wrists, instead taking her hands and guiding them to his belt. It's his turn, now, to turn himself over to her, to see if she will rise to his challenge, if she will grant him the sweet relief he seeks. ]
[ those words are like little barbs just beneath her skin, and despite how her mind and body both are still warm and fuzzy with pleasure, still she hisses in an almost lazy way - though at long last he grants her her agency again, freeing her hand.
prove it.
still dizzy and warm, alisaie sits forward, grasping at his belt when his hands guide her there, though she hardly needs the incentive. she can see how hard he is through his too-tight trousers, and it's almost like old habit - plenty of times he has gone down on her so sweetly before they make love, before she pays him back by giving all of herself too him, and so it feels.. natural to loosen his belt now, while that sweet, tight heat still throbs between her thighs.
rising to her knees, alisaie opens his trousers and shoves them down his hips before her hand between them finds his cock, feels the silky-soft weight of it, the heat, before she's climbing astride his lap and over it, fitting her body against him. there is no hesitation, no fear or worry - the moons might exert their influence, but she is not so intoxicated so as not to know exactly what she is doing, and to know that she wants it more than anything, to feel him within her, to connect to another person, to him, so fully and completely that she loses track of where she ends and he begins.
her eyes flicker over his not seeking permission - but telling him; he said to prove it, after all, and so that is just what she means to do, seating herself over his lap and sliding down onto his cock in the very moment her mouth finds his in a hard, fierce, hungry kiss, the taste and smell of her still clinging to his mouth. ]
[ The moment that her eyes meet his nearly kills him. He wants it so badly, can feel the warmth of her so close to him, so tantalizingly close, that if she waited a moment longer, he would have pulled her down onto him anyway. But soon enough, she's closing that distance between them, sliding onto his cock in a fluid, familiar motion that rocks him to his core and makes him gasp against the intensity of her kiss. He groans and closes his eyes, allowing himself just to feel, to soak in this moment, to at last feel so deeply connected to her in a way he hasn't since she returned from Norvrandt. ]
Fuck me, Alisaie...
[ He breathes, even as she begins to move against him, their hips taking a moment to find that rhythm again, that sweet push and pull, but oh, once they find it...every pant becomes a whine of pleasure, as he clings to her desperately tight, kissing her, biting her, sinking his teeth into her soft fur, as the pleasure builds and builds, sweeping him up in a torrent of pleasure. As desperate as they both were for this, he makes himself last longer than he usually would, only thanks to the control that Sanguis gives him, but it's all the better that way, because when he at last builds to that peak, it is deliriously good. Their movements are harsh and fast, his cries of pleasure carrying across the sands, building and building until at last, the dam breaks. He comes hard, her name like a prayer as pleasure unparalleled crashes over him. For a moment, it consumes him completely, stealing away time and meaning and substance, until all he can do is feel, feel her closer to him than anything else in the world.
It leaves him breathless and trembling and whimpering, though he still clings to her tightly, tasting the salt on her skin from the spray of the sea and her sweat both, his tail wagging slow behind him. He doesn't want to overthink it, or overcomplicated it. He just lets it bed. He lets them be, still connected because he can't pull out yet anyway and intertwined, as close to what they used to be as they have been in weeks. Even as he begins to come down, he still peppers her neck and jaw with sweet, gentle kisses, so unlike the ferocious ones that came before.
[ it's wild, and in a way.. cathartic. their lovemaking could be intense sometimes, but more often than not it was sweet and gentle, and she loved that, she always enjoyed it, but even without cordis and sanguis and iris, alisaie has always had a feral streak in her, a wildness in her blood that enjoys roughness and raw ferocity. with his hard kisses and the rake of his claws he gives her permission to give as good as she gets, and so she does not hold back, but rides him hard, clawing at his back and biting at his neck, his shoulders, his collar, all of him that she can reach. it is rough and fierce and as they rise it feels as if she is purging so much of the fury and frustration that bubbles in her blood, that has sat in her core, unmitigated and monstrous, growing every day.
mayhaps this was not the most healthy way to vent it, she let it go too far for too long, and yet still there is a.. satisfaction that washes over her in the end that steals the breath from her lungs and the energy from her bones.
for the first time in a long, long time, alisaie feels.. at peace.
it may only be brief, and fleeting - she does not know what tomorrow may bring, or the next day, she does not know if she will be able to find her footing and balance, her place, but for now.. for now she is satiated. wrung out. satisfied.
and rather than flinch away from him, alisaie sinks against him, all of her weight sagging into his arms. her clawed fingers loosen, soften, her arms slung down his back, her head resting heavy in the crook of his neck. his skin and fur smell so good, like sweat and sex, like wolf and salt and like him, familiar.
[ It he finds it strange that she clings to him so tightly after such hard, desperate sex, he doesn't show it. It shouldn't be so easy to let her sink against him, to hold her near and gentle, after so many poisonous and hurtful things had been said between them, but for now, the wolf is tamed, his fury calmed. He doesn't want to pick another fight with her. He just wants to hold her close, and continue to kiss her so gently and sweetly, while they have this moment, before those walls between them go up again.
But they do not yet return. Alisaie doesn't withdraw, instead sagging her full weight against him, completely and utterly vulnerable. And then...she apologizes, which is equally unexpected. Not because he didn't think she would, but because he didn't think she would now, so soon, when the hurt is still so fresh. But then again, in the wake of what they've just shared, don't those fears feel somehow so distant now? Those barbs fallen loose from his heart?
He swallows thickly, fighting off tears that Sanguis can't persuade him out of now. ]
I'm sorry, too. I said such awful things to you, I...I-I didn't mean...I'm so sorry.
[ Maybe it felt cathartic, and maybe they wouldn't have gotten here if it hadn't happened, but still, it...wasn't right. ]
[ it's so easy to feel foolish, now - with her spleen vented and her fury spent, she feels so small and stupid, shamed by her words and actions both. alisaie is quick to shake her head, but her arms close around him all the more tightly, squeezing hard, her face pressed into the curve of his neck. ]
No. You were right. I have been..
[ terrible. that she's been hurt and mourning and aching does not matter, it gave her no right to treat others badly, to treat him badly, for honestly, it is prompto who has borne the brunt of her frustrations, and everything he said to her tonight - however barbed it might have been - was correct. she has pushed him away, she has made him wait, and feel unloved, she has been afraid.
hooking her hands lightly over his shoulders, alisaie takes in a deep, trembling breath, touching her brow gently to his. ]
[ Oh, how he's missed this. Her touch, this closeness, and for all they just shared with one another, this somehow feels just as intimate as what came before. She holds close to him, presses her brow to his, and it nearly splits his heart, in a totally different way than her cutting words that had come before. They heal instead of hurt, and while she hardly needs to ask for his forgiveness, it's still a relief to hear the words, to let go of the barbs that had hooked into his heart. Not everything is immediately better, and they still have a ways to go in repairing their relationship, but this is an important first step in the right direction.
At last. At last.
Inhaling a shuddering breath, the cool sea breeze tickles his skin and fur, and he lifts his hands to cup at her face, his thumbs smoothing gently over her lips. ]
Course I will. You're stuck with me, no matter what.
[ his hands frame her face sweetly, gently, and the feeling is so very familiar that is steals the breath from her lungs in a soft gasp between them. these tender touches.. she hardly realized how much she had missed them until she'd felt them again, now, here, like this. she has been so terrible to him, and yet he is still so sweet, so warm, welcoming her back without hesitation.
she isn't sure she deserves it.
but rather than argue it, she can instead.. try to be better, to clean up this terrible mess that she has made. it is the best she can offer.
a tremulous smile curves her mouth, and alisaie's lips press to the pads of his thumbs. ]
[ Home. She'd called it that when she first returned to this world, and it had given him hope, that even though so much had happened to her, and so much time had passed, this place could be her home again. Everything that had happened since then, however, had made him worry that that maybe couldn't be the case. But now she reassures him with her words and her actions both, putting his heart at ease. ]
Yeah, let's.
[ He says through a tremulous breath, his heart still racing, blood thick with pleasure that still ebbs, but slowly, he becomes more aware of their surroundings again. They are...on the beach, mostly undressed in the sand, messy and sweaty, and she is still mounted on him. It feels a little... different than usual, like he takes up more space within her than usual. It isn't uncomfortable, and it's even a little exciting, but...
It definitely isn't but normal. ]
Um...
[ He begins, but instead of give voice to his dawning realization, he glances down at their intertwined bodies, chewing his bottom lip.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action; after chobigate
Except that...it isn't. They days tick by. Life goes on, but it isn't the same, and the natural rift between them brought on by her time away in Norvrandt doesn't begin to heal the way he expects it to. They sleep separately, not just for the first night, but for days, weeks, until it because a habit in itself, that restless sleep he obtains why they shuffle between the bed and the couch, wordlessly switching off where they sleep alone. It doesn't get easier, the empty space beside him. Knowing she sleeps only a wall away only makes it worse, the silence punctuated by every small noise they make in their time apart in the night.
When they rise, they fall into a simple rhythm, patterns that echo with what they used to be, and it gives Prompto hope. They still cook together sometimes — it's a good distraction for their hands and minds. They take Pea for walks, they go to work and shop and see their friends. They function as normal, but not as them. Not as Alisaie and Prompto. Their physical contact is brief, they don't kiss, they don't say I love you, and they certainly don't attempt anything intimate. At first, Prompto is happy to do it, to give Alisaie the space that she needs to grow accustomed to being here again, to being around him again, but then the days turn into weeks, and for one who thrives on physical affection like Prompto, the distance is...suffocating. It sows seeds of panic in his heart, and while they take time to truly form and take root against his unrelenting hopefulness, those doubts are getting harder and harder to drown out.
He only lets it get to him in the dead of night, when he's sure she must be asleep. Still, he keeps his sniffles as quiet as he can, and wipes the tear tracks from his cheeks.
But it's just one more day. And one more after that, and one more after that. Even Prompto, in his infinite hopefulness and optimism, cannot hope to keep the demons in his own heart at bay forever, and he isn't delusional. Things...aren't getting better. They haven't changed. And while he refuses to push Alisaie in any direction to allow her to be as comfortable and accommodating as possible while she adjusts, how long will she need? When will she let him in again?
Then it doesn't become a question of "if", but "when" will she let him in again.
He should talk to her about it. He knows he should, but he's never been great at confrontation, especially starting it. Instead, he continues what he's been doing, but even that seems to be wearing on Alisaie's nerves. She becomes shorter and shorter with him, snapping at him over little things, leaving the room in hurried huffs, and there doesn't seem to be anything he can to do keep things from spiraling out of control. She doesn't want him to be sweet, she doesn't want him to be jovial, she doesn't want him to be quiet — it's like nothing he can do is right, and more and more what he fears most becomes apparent. Maybe he's been lying to himself all along.
Alisaie isn't trying to work up to allowing herself to love him again. She's trying to figure out how to handle a boyfriend she no longer loves. And it...just makes sense, doesn't it? She was gone for a whole goddamn year. She changed. To expect her to come back here and just love him again is ludicrous. He's ready to love her for the rest of her life, but if she doesn't feel the same...
Gods, to even think it makes him feel dizzy and sick. Just one more day...surely, things will turn around.
The place they once called their home together now feels hostile and uncomfortable, the new miserable status quo. Neither of them are happy, but they're still trying. Or, at least, neither of them will address what is wrong, and they continue to go through the motions. Until Alisaie snaps again, over something simple he says, something inconsequential. The timing of the moons doesn't help, and with all three in full swing, and Sanguis is beginning to boil hot in his blood. Before he can get in another word, though, she leaves, heading out for some "fresh air", though it's clear she doesn't intend to return anytime soon.
And isn't that just how it's been lately? Maybe she'll return after he goes to bed so she won't have to deal with facing him again. With the guilt, or the awkwardness, or whatever the hell it is that she's feeling. He wouldn't know it, because his heart feels closed off to him. She's still trying, but for what? What's the point in trying to make him believe this lie anymore? It's — it's just —
He can't take one more day. This needs to end. Confrontation comes much, more easily to him as Sanguis settles in full into his bones, as does his ability to track. He leaves the apartment and steps out into the cool evening air, Alisaie's scent drifting upon the breeze, and he moves swiftly. Not quite a wolf, but not quite a man, either. Thick patches of fur form along his forearms and shoulders (and elsewhere, wink wonk), his nails grow sharp, his telltale(tail) ears and tail sprout as usual. Alisaie's scent is easy to follow, even if there is something...different about it this month.
Something he can't identify until he at least finds her, out by the beach, bathed in the light of the three moons. Her usual fox features have been cranked up to eleven, a number of graceful, sleek tails sprouting at her back, and the pheromones she gives off are considerably more potent than normal, which is saying something. It's...immediately distracting, but not enough to deter Prompto from why he came here. From why he sought her out in the first place.
Hesitating only a moment, he approaches her, fists already balled tightly at his side. ]
Just stepping out for some "quick fresh air", huh?
[ That quick fresh air sure turned into staying away from home for several hours instead. ]
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alisaie was sure that it would only be a matter of time. she remembers, after all - she remembers all of her time here, and her time with the circle. she remembers every moment spent with prompto, she remembers touching him and kissing him and how it felt to be in love with him, and it was not truly so very long ago. a year is no short amount of time, but neither is it an eternity, and as she settles back into life here the memories become stronger and stronger, until it feels almost natural to be here again.
.. almost.
yet still she feels like an outsider, like a puzzle piece that does not fit forced into place. it isn't only with prompto. it's everything. it's quick, easy meals. it's the quiet sound of the water. it's the streets thronging with people and prismals, all content, all happy, all living their lives without the threat of doom hanging over their heads. it's waking up every day to eat pancakes and work in a little book shop as if she has not spent the last year fighting for her life and the lives of countless others, watching her friends and loved ones suffer, helping hundreds of lives pass to the sunless sea before they could change into something painful and terrible.
she does not know how to adapt to everyday life again, and it is not getting easier, but instead more and more frustrating.
mayhaps she could speak with prompto - it might help. in the past she very well might have. but there is so much pain and disease in her heart that she has yet to process, and she does not know how to bring herself to speak about it, to tell him, or anyone, how she is feeling and, more importantly, why she is feeling that way. how can she explain that she cannot accept being happy and normal? how wrong is that, how foolish does it sound, even to her own ears? it's ludicrous. humiliating. she should be happy that there is peace here, and she is.
but gods, her heart is a thunderous tumult.
she takes it out on him. she knows she does. it's as if she can see her behavior through her own eyes and do nothing to stop it - the words are out before she can bite them back. she is snappish, and miserable, everything drives her mad, fuels her anger, and it is burning her up inside, eating her alive; she has no idea how to make it stop before it is too late and there is nothing of her left. and in this great storm of her heart and mind and spirit, how can she possibly find the time or energy to sort out her feelings for him? to find a way to love him again, when she cannot even find a way to simply exist here in peace? it's too much to contend with.
the evening air is crisp and chill, especially on the beach, where the ocean wind blows strong over the white-capped waves and catches in the hair she pulls down from its braid. it weaves through thick tufts of fur as the night wanes on and the moons rise high in the sky, changing her as it always does, though a little differently now. nine thick, lustrous tails, her ears tall and proud, her eyes a sharp and luminous gold - she looks as fierce and wild and dangerous as she feels, and when prompto's voice carries on the air she turns quickly, her tails lashing like whips behind her, angry and snapping. ]
What, would you prefer that I write you a schedule, next time? Or will you follow me like a wild dog, instead?
[ she says, her voice low and her long ears laid back against her hair. immediately she feels guilty for her tone, but her sense of reason is washed away by her own frustrations amplified by the light of the cordis moon, and his own fierce tone. he challenges her not only with his words and voice, but with his body, his posture, his scent, and gods she is ready to engage, to sink her teeth and claws into him and loose all the tension and fury on him that she has been only barely restraining for weeks. he offers her an outlet and she takes it without hesitation, all of her body tensing, leaning in his direction, sharp clawed toes digging bare into the sand, her too-bright eyes flickering in the dim evening light. ]
Is that what you need, little doggy? My constant attention? Shall I rub your belly and feed you a bone, as well?
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In any other state, this alone would be enough to break him, to reduce him to tears, but not now. Not when Sanguis is in control. She steps towards him and he does not step back, but forward himself, his eyes flashing dangerously, teeth bared in a grimace. It is not too unlike his encounter with Ardyn, he realizes in the back of his mind. He too goaded him with belittling words. And while Prompto has enough control over himself not to hurt Alisaie physically, the same cannot be said for the sharp words upon his tongue that sit like daggers, ready to be spewed. ]
Yeah, it'd kill you to throw me a bone, wouldn't it? Checks out, since you act like you can barely stand to be in the same room with me.
[ She was supposed to be someone who never grew sick of him. Who never grew tired of him, of his quirks and his big personality. She told him he was beautiful, that he was good enough, and now he isn't.
He swallows against the lump in his throat, focusing on his anger instead. ]
But lemme guess — it's not about me, isn't it? It's always been about you being comfortable and happy, no matter how long you make me wait. I wore you down last time, huh? Is that it? But that's not working this time. Doesn't work when you're too scared to face your own feelings, huh?
[ It's cruel. It's unfair. But his heart is bleeding, and with Sanguis firing on all cylinders in his blood, he can't stop it. ]
no subject
I never asked for any of that!
[ she growls, sharp fangs flashing in the moonlight as she moves closer still, circling him like prey, her tails thick and bristly, puffed and writhing like snakes. ]
You make these sacrifices of your own choice, do not dare to blame me because you are too afraid to face your life - and yet you dare accuse me of - of --
[ it stings, and she deserves it, she knows - she is throwing words at him like daggers, and so it stands to reason that he would throw them right back, yet still they sink right into the meat of her heart, hooking in, holding fast. he isn't wrong. she has told him of norvrandt, but she has not told him everything, she has not told him what keeps her up at night, or of the plaguing nightmares, how she jumps at shadows, how it feels always as if she is just waiting for the other shoe to drop. she hasn't told him the important things, and it is not because she does not trust him, but because.. she is afraid. ]
Do not think I have not noticed how you tiptoe around me like a frightened little pup, because you cannot stand the idea of being on your own.
no subject
But it doesn't even matter now, does it? She no longer finds his presence comforting or familiar. She treats him like a stranger, not a lover. Any of the intimacy they had is long gone, instead replaced by this sham of an act while he waits. But he is done waiting. He can't do this anymore.
But neither is she wrong. The thought of being on his own again, of living a life without her is...terrifying. Enough to make him dizzy, and snap him out of his fury for just a moment. ]
I...I-I...
[ No. He won't stand for being treated like this. He won't stand to be hurt like this. Sanguis won't allow it. Sanguis will not be cowed, and neither will Prompto.
He steps in front of her to cut off her pacing around him. A little fox shouldn't play with wolves. ]
Yeah, because I love you! I love you, Alisaie! — Oh, shit, sooo sorry, was I not supposed to say that? Forgot you were allergic to talking to me about anything that matters. Forgot you're so closed off now you don't even know how to let me love you! I get it — you've been through hell, but so have I, and you could, I don't know, maybe try talking to me about it for once without me having to weasel it out of you!
[ His voice goes low, quiet, and lethally serious. ]
I was waiting for you to be ready, but you know what? You're never gonna be. Because you're too goddamn scared. You're chocobo shit.
[ It isn't just this time, even if it's the worst instance so far. But how many times has he withheld things from him that she needed to talk about because she was too afraid to face them? Maybe she trusted him, but she sure as hell doesn't act like it. ]
no subject
[ he cuts hard, and deep, and alisaie is, at first, too stunned even to react. he has stepped in her path, challenged her further still, and lanced his words straight through her heart. ]
You have no idea what I have -
[ and that is his point, isn't it? that he has no idea because she has not told him, because she has not opened herself. she is afraid. she does not know how to give words to the pain in her heart. but he takes it so damned personally every time. alisaie grits her sharp teeth, and lunges.
mayhaps it should not come to physicality, mayhaps it is below her, below them, but she has always spoken better with her sword than with her words, even without the light of the moons bearing down on her to greatly amplify it. she's positively rabid. alisaie launches herself at him bodily, with all of her might, slamming him down into the sand and pinning him back. ]
For someone with all the self assurance of a mewling babe, you can be so arrogant!
[ she snaps, baring her fangs ilms from his face, her claws digging into the sand around his wrists to pin them further. this fox is not afraid of wolves. ]
Not everything is about you! My pain is my own, you have no right to it simply because I care for you, if I choose not to tell you, it is not because I have some wild agenda to keep from trusting you - oh poor, poor Prompto, cannot possibly believe I care for him if I do not reveal every single thing! Shall I tear out my heart and lungs and guts for you, and present them upon a silver platter? Would that be enough for you?
[ somehow, she thinks it would not. alisaie's eyes narrow. ]
Your need to be loved is a bottomless hole, nothing will satisfy you!
no subject
It's almost enough to break him free, because it breaks his heart clean in two. Everything is falling to pieces, and he feels heedless to stop it. Why is he arguing? She's right. Of course she's right. It's just as he feared. He's too needy. He asks for too much. No one can endure him for long, and eventually, he'll push them all away. That's just how it goes, right? He's a sham of a human, anyway, living a stolen life in a world that shouldn't even exist.
His eyes widen, injured, a whimper catching in his throat, but that is weakness, and Sanguis won't have it. Anger burns bright in his blood again as he squeezes his eyes shut tight, banishing even the thought of tears from them. ]
Oh, sorry, didn't realize I was making myself such a burden when I was trying to help you! I don't want you to tell me everything, I just want to help you so you aren't killing yourself by keeping it all in! So shit like this doesn't happen! We were supposed to work through this together, but you won't even try!
[ And then, quickly, he's moving, surging forward, grabbing for her wrists and with his Sanguis-gifted strength, pushing her onto her back, his weight over her. His holds tight to her wrists, ignoring the heat of her body, the taste of her smell so close and tantalizing, his eyes flashing dangerously. ]
There's something you're not telling me. Isn't there? I knew it since you first told me about Norvrandt. Oh, sure, you told me eeeeverything about it, except about what mattered most to you, about what made you...like this.
[ Closed off. Unreachable. Someone he is so desperately afraid of losing, but it feels inevitable. ]
no subject
it feels so wrong.
but then he is surging forward, pinning her into the sand, and the fury is back, with it a swell of heat that crashes down her body, prickling the soft fur on her forearms. without thought her thighs spread to admit him, clamping tightly around his hips, and her breath hitches hard, heat flooding to her face, her ears pinning back. gods it feels.. it feels so good to be close to him again, to be close to him like this, with their blood surging and the moonlight goading them. ]
I don't..
[ she starts, breathlessly, and rather than expel him back her hands grasp his own, her fingers slipping through his, though she holds them hard, singing her sharp claws into the backs of his hands, pricking delicate skin. ]
Like what?
[ she hisses back, at last, her body arching and her fangs gnashing. ]
Like someone who no longer fits, for you? How and when I tell you anything is my choice.
no subject
...But she smells so nice, so familiar, so tempting, the press of her thighs to his an invitation that he cannot bear to refuse. Maybe it's wrong, but he craves this, he needs this. He has been so starved for affection. This can sate.
Her words still prickle at him, however, and his claws press against the backs of her hands in return as he lifts her arms above her head, sinking lower against her, eyes already hooded with want and desire. With a rough sound lodged in his throat, he dips down, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, dragging his nose along her slender throat, inhaling that scent that makes his body tremble. ]
Then...guess that's it, then, huh? You won't meet me halfway, so what's the point?
[ He pulls back just enough to meet her gaze, then, eyes smoldering and hard, before he slowly, deliberately, rolls his hips against hers, feeling the shape of her against him. ]
But you still want me, don't you?
[ Never mind that he wants her, too, in a fearsome way he has never known before. He doesn't want the soft embrace of a kind, sweet lover tonight. He doesn't want sweet nothings and aftercare. He wants pleasure and pain both in turn. He wants to fuck her like an animal, until neither of them can see straight, until they exist in that sea of boneless, uncomplicated pleasure, where it won't matter that his heart is broken, and he's afraid that he's ruined everything, that there is no coming back from this. ]
no subject
more than that, she misses when she knew how to want and appreciate it, before everything began to feel strange, and she forgot how to accept affection. despite his arguments, she does try - she tries every day to remember how to reach him, how to be the girl that she once was, even if he cannot see her progress, because there is none to speak of. it is why she is so frustrated, so angry, because every day she tries to fit herself back into the space she left behind, and every day she finds that she cannot.
but now the moons decide for them, erasing the barriers they've kept carefully maintained and stripping away pretense and uncertainty. mayhaps they are being influenced, but these feelings are not false, they are real, only given purpose, and an avenue to manifest at last. ]
Yes.
[ she whispers harshly, and when he dips to nuzzle his face to her throat she growls low in her throat, her body tightening with heat, a prickle coursing down her spine. she does want him, she has wanted to want him for weeks, wanted to remember how to be touched, but her fears and misgivings are dashed by the fox in her blood, unchaining her at last. it may not be gentle touches and sweet kisses she craves, but that is just as well, alisaie has ever preferred a hard and brutal path.
the friction when his hips grind to hers is nearly unbearable, and the growl in her throat gives way to a soft whine instead; without another moment's hesitation she captures his mouth with her own, and sinks her teeth into the tender flesh of his lower lip. ]
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In retaliation, his tongue lances into her mouth, forceful and eager to taste her, his hips grinding against her again, sending a shiver rocketing down his spine. At last he releases one of her hands, if only so he can drag one clawed finger, over the buttons of her coat, snapping them off until he can push it off her shoulders. ]
I need you...
[ He pleads, and he does. He's so desperately missed this contact, this heat, this intimacy that they used to know so well. His hands splay over her shoulders, pushing away her dress straps and holding fast, while his mouth pulls to the side, seeking the sensitive flesh of her ear, teeth sinking in to soft cartilage. ]
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gods, she misses that..
but this is reminiscent of it, it's a spark, a reminder, a memory of all the times he touched her skin, all the times he kissed her mouth and whispered her name. she might have loved his submission, but she likes this too, the force of his love and need, how willing he is to push for it, fight for it.
her coat already feels far too heavy and restrictive, and the moment he begins to open it she is wrestling her way out of it, leaving it sprawled open beneath her back, her ribs heaving as she gasps for air against his mouth. it's gone, and with one hand free she is able to snag the hem of his shirt, her claws tearing into the thin fabric as she wrenches it up over his back, urging it away. ]
I need you too -
[ she whispers, though it is punctuated by a whine when his teeth sink against her soft ear, the pressure of his teeth lancing bolts of sweet, shivering pleasure straight down her spine and between her thighs, her hips rising to meet his again, seeking heat, and friction. ]
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But he also isn't ready to submit, to let her put his hands on him and carry him away. Instead, he nips at her ear once more, before drawing back, his breathing heavy, meeting her gaze with a wicked kind of grin.
One of his hands slips between her thighs then, his index finger drawing tantalizingly over the already-wet cotton of her panties. ]
Prove it to me.
[ There's a challenge in his words. Which one of them can undo the other first? ]
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but it won't be that easy.
prove it to me, he says, and alisaie hisses through her fangs again, he luminous eyes narrowed dangerously, but her anger is equally matched now by her need, the pheromones thick in her blood, the heat and desire that she'd held back.
he's left her hand free, and so is scrambles at his back now, over smooth skin and patches of fur. he smells like skin and sweat, like wolf mingled with the salty sea air and it drives her wild, urging her to sink her claws deep against his skin, scratching red welts while she wriggles to free herself, bucking against him, her trapped arm fighting for freedom. ]
Fuck me.
[ she whispers, the words harsh against his lips as she drags her mouth over his own, tasting his breath, breathing him in. ]
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He strokes her again, his fingers skirting along her thighs, before at last dipping beneath the fabric to brush up against the all-to-sensitive folds of skin beneath. But this too is a tease, because instead of stopping to finger her, his claws hook upward quickly, cutting through the fabric of her panties. A breathless laugh huffs against her mouth — that was easier than he thought. ]
Prove it.
[ He challenges again, before he's quickly surging away — and down, pulling away the remnants of her panties so he can dip his head between her legs and feast on her. ]
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but before she can even think to find a way to prove it he is moving down her body, between her thighs, and she is lost.
gods, but she had forgotten how good it feels, and how good he is with his mouth - his lips and his soft tongue, his low growling murmurs that vibrate against her - she's overcome within seconds. their argument is buried, dissolved, and all she can feel is the white-hot pleasure, the sinfully slick slide of his tongue, the heat of his mouth, the softness of his lips. he is not gentle, but ravenous as the moons demand, and it is all she can do to give herself over to it, closing her eyes and arching her back, her hips rocking up to the movement of his mouth as the pleasure builds. she has only one free hand still but it is more than enough - alisaie buries it in his thick hair, sinking her claws against his scalp and tugging at the roots of his hair, urging him, but he does not leave her wanting.
had she the wherewithal to be thinking clearly, she might worry that in his mood he would deny her her climax, but for a kindness, he does not. the pleasure builds and builds far more quickly than she had anticipated, but then her body has not felt this sweetness in so long, and she is sensitive as a virgin maid. ]
Prompto -
[ she whispers, the only precursor before her back is arching from the sand, her thighs tensing, twitching as she comes in a flood of heat and pleasure, her cry carried by the ocean wind. claws hook hard into the nape of his neck, holding him in place, her pinned fingers sinking deep into the sand still warm from the summer sun, and she is buoyed by simple, uncomplicated bliss, carried high on its crest until nothing hurts, there is no pain, no confusion, no anger - only the easy, natural pleasure that he knows how to give her so well. ]
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It excites him, too, her desperate sounds, her bucking hips, the way she whines his name before she comes, her fingers buried in his hair. He was hard and full before, but now the pressure against his cock is nearly unbearable. After she finishes, he doesn't move right away, instead nosing to her sensitive skin, inhaling that scent that is positively intoxicating to her pheromone-addled brain. A groan spills from his lips as he finally sits up again, wearing a triumphant smile and licking the taste of her from his lips. ]
I said, prove it.
[ At last, he releases her wrists, instead taking her hands and guiding them to his belt. It's his turn, now, to turn himself over to her, to see if she will rise to his challenge, if she will grant him the sweet relief he seeks. ]
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prove it.
still dizzy and warm, alisaie sits forward, grasping at his belt when his hands guide her there, though she hardly needs the incentive. she can see how hard he is through his too-tight trousers, and it's almost like old habit - plenty of times he has gone down on her so sweetly before they make love, before she pays him back by giving all of herself too him, and so it feels.. natural to loosen his belt now, while that sweet, tight heat still throbs between her thighs.
rising to her knees, alisaie opens his trousers and shoves them down his hips before her hand between them finds his cock, feels the silky-soft weight of it, the heat, before she's climbing astride his lap and over it, fitting her body against him. there is no hesitation, no fear or worry - the moons might exert their influence, but she is not so intoxicated so as not to know exactly what she is doing, and to know that she wants it more than anything, to feel him within her, to connect to another person, to him, so fully and completely that she loses track of where she ends and he begins.
her eyes flicker over his not seeking permission - but telling him; he said to prove it, after all, and so that is just what she means to do, seating herself over his lap and sliding down onto his cock in the very moment her mouth finds his in a hard, fierce, hungry kiss, the taste and smell of her still clinging to his mouth. ]
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Fuck me, Alisaie...
[ He breathes, even as she begins to move against him, their hips taking a moment to find that rhythm again, that sweet push and pull, but oh, once they find it...every pant becomes a whine of pleasure, as he clings to her desperately tight, kissing her, biting her, sinking his teeth into her soft fur, as the pleasure builds and builds, sweeping him up in a torrent of pleasure. As desperate as they both were for this, he makes himself last longer than he usually would, only thanks to the control that Sanguis gives him, but it's all the better that way, because when he at last builds to that peak, it is deliriously good. Their movements are harsh and fast, his cries of pleasure carrying across the sands, building and building until at last, the dam breaks. He comes hard, her name like a prayer as pleasure unparalleled crashes over him. For a moment, it consumes him completely, stealing away time and meaning and substance, until all he can do is feel, feel her closer to him than anything else in the world.
It leaves him breathless and trembling and whimpering, though he still clings to her tightly, tasting the salt on her skin from the spray of the sea and her sweat both, his tail wagging slow behind him. He doesn't want to overthink it, or overcomplicated it. He just lets it bed. He lets them be, still connected
because he can't pull out yet anywayand intertwined, as close to what they used to be as they have been in weeks. Even as he begins to come down, he still peppers her neck and jaw with sweet, gentle kisses, so unlike the ferocious ones that came before.It's peaceful. ]
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mayhaps this was not the most healthy way to vent it, she let it go too far for too long, and yet still there is a.. satisfaction that washes over her in the end that steals the breath from her lungs and the energy from her bones.
for the first time in a long, long time, alisaie feels.. at peace.
it may only be brief, and fleeting - she does not know what tomorrow may bring, or the next day, she does not know if she will be able to find her footing and balance, her place, but for now.. for now she is satiated. wrung out. satisfied.
and rather than flinch away from him, alisaie sinks against him, all of her weight sagging into his arms. her clawed fingers loosen, soften, her arms slung down his back, her head resting heavy in the crook of his neck. his skin and fur smell so good, like sweat and sex, like wolf and salt and like him, familiar.
comforting. ]
I..
[ she whispers, so softly against his skin. ]
I'm.. I'm sorry..
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But they do not yet return. Alisaie doesn't withdraw, instead sagging her full weight against him, completely and utterly vulnerable. And then...she apologizes, which is equally unexpected. Not because he didn't think she would, but because he didn't think she would now, so soon, when the hurt is still so fresh. But then again, in the wake of what they've just shared, don't those fears feel somehow so distant now? Those barbs fallen loose from his heart?
He swallows thickly, fighting off tears that Sanguis can't persuade him out of now. ]
I'm sorry, too. I said such awful things to you, I...I-I didn't mean...I'm so sorry.
[ Maybe it felt cathartic, and maybe they wouldn't have gotten here if it hadn't happened, but still, it...wasn't right. ]
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No. You were right. I have been..
[ terrible. that she's been hurt and mourning and aching does not matter, it gave her no right to treat others badly, to treat him badly, for honestly, it is prompto who has borne the brunt of her frustrations, and everything he said to her tonight - however barbed it might have been - was correct. she has pushed him away, she has made him wait, and feel unloved, she has been afraid.
hooking her hands lightly over his shoulders, alisaie takes in a deep, trembling breath, touching her brow gently to his. ]
I hope you can forgive me..
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At last. At last.
Inhaling a shuddering breath, the cool sea breeze tickles his skin and fur, and he lifts his hands to cup at her face, his thumbs smoothing gently over her lips. ]
Course I will. You're stuck with me, no matter what.
[ And he will always, always love her. ]
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she isn't sure she deserves it.
but rather than argue it, she can instead.. try to be better, to clean up this terrible mess that she has made. it is the best she can offer.
a tremulous smile curves her mouth, and alisaie's lips press to the pads of his thumbs. ]
Let's go home.
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Yeah, let's.
[ He says through a tremulous breath, his heart still racing, blood thick with pleasure that still ebbs, but slowly, he becomes more aware of their surroundings again. They are...on the beach, mostly undressed in the sand, messy and sweaty, and she is still mounted on him. It feels a little... different than usual, like he takes up more space within her than usual. It isn't uncomfortable, and it's even a little exciting, but...
It definitely isn't but normal. ]
Um...
[ He begins, but instead of give voice to his dawning realization, he glances down at their intertwined bodies, chewing his bottom lip.
Well. This is new. ]
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