together, they were the ULTIMATE poison ——- something so DEADLY, so horrid. he was bent to her will, every DESIRE he would carry out ! a knight, FORSAKEN —– damned, shrouded in decay && lust for DOMINANCE. lips laced with black venom, his touch on hers, the INTENSITY, she could feel the passion wave through him && onto her being, how his taste was ROTTEN && it intrigued her greatly.
their cold corpses were CLOSE, touching, pressed together. the banshee queen would free those blackened lips, a near GASPS, but not for the need of AIR, but from delight. unholy, wicked eyes set on him,
‘ you serve with every fibre of your being, ONLY holding such a high status within my forces due to your passion for your people —- ‘ tone was calm ; he truly was one of her best, never FAILING to carry out orders, protecting && DESTROYING. the r e a p e r. one who was FEARED by the dark lady’s enemies. HE always came undetected, like smoke, you can’t catch him, SLIPPING through your hands && around your throat —— STRANGLING, strangling until DEATH. ‘ but you strive for HIGHER, though. to be more than my knight, ‘
❛ ━━━━ I WANT TO BE YOUR KING. ❜ how dangerously he’d let those words slip from his rotted lips when she could easily rip out what little life he had left in him. they were true, nonetheless. the need, the want strangling him in his sleep. aspirations that were just within his reach. when he held the dark lady’s heart in his hands, he could have anything. though, the reaper wanted her. he had wanted her & her kingdom as long as she’d been beside him. their people the children they raised. molded to become the heavy hand of the forsaken.
❛ the forsaken would be stronger for it. me, a king. you, their queen. ❜ a hand curls in the locks of her hair, glances with sunken eyes at the prettiness she exuded even in death. he imagines her alive, pink & beautiful. flush lips, a red tongue. it doesn’t suit her. sylvanas had belonged to the dead. the gripping filth of festering death. her carcass a simple vessel of a rotted soul. how he’d found her beautiful because of it. sick like him, the daring ugliness of death that held onto them both had made them two halves of one whole.
the reaper is eager to kiss her again. but perhaps she’d rip out his tongue if he dared. they were poison. veins green, swollen with each other. unwilling to quit being venomous, sinking teeth into skin to infect. how much longer until they learned that they could kill each other?