#eternalswind

[zmhati]

"you have all the merciless clarity of an executioner, do you know that? must every conversation with you become an inquest into my poor decisions?" 🧍

it's fortunate that z'mhati is unarmed at the moment, or otherwise he would have accused g'raha of putting too fine a point on it. still, what the warrior lacks in armament, he's fully supplied in temper; it's apparent in the way he narrows his eyes and his fingers twitch. he won't do anything, however. of course he won't. contention may have defined the many moons they have been under the roof of cooperation for the sake of an entire reflection, but mhati will never turn on an ally, less so strike them. barking at them, however, is different. because in spite of the speed at which g'raha tia has had to steel himself to be the leader the crystarium needed him to be, there is no fast - track to wisdom or good judgment.

indignation flashes through mhati's features like ramuh's lightning. " you just ain't used to people needlin' you about said poor decisions, g'raha 'n i guess that's about to be my responsibility. " credit to the exarch where it's due: he's as much of a wall as mhati is. stalwart, unmoving, much like the tower at the heart of his domain. " one day you oughtta sit and apologize properly, an' i'm not talkin' about a simple 'i'm sorry for what i did'. or 'sorry for lyin' about lightwardens and my entire plan'. only do it after realizing that tales are just tales, and that the heroes you idealize so much are just people like you 'n me that had their whole person stripped away by the world. "

it happened to me. g'raha probably already knows about that because of the rest of the scions, so mhati smothers the thought.

" maybe after that, i'll go easy on ya. but not yet. "

semi - prompted asks, ft. @eternalswind + g'raha.

[echosdeath]

it is difficult to forget. decades upon decades of fighting, enduring, winning and losing (but she never quite wins, she thinks, not when people have died. not when more could die, possibly because of her). it is always a horror rewritten: the story of what seems to be her fate, the blinding hope in her blood, that foreign definition of life and longevity they deemed it to be, that festering dark that adorned her future. it's a strange way to think for someone who never believed fate should have a say in one's life. but it's difficult to forget. sometimes there is the feeling of safety, but the danger still remains. a shadow in her mind and a darkening in the crevices of the heart. even in her dreams, she does not escape. would she in any of theirs? perhaps in @eternalswind's?

she looks to the horizon in front of the two of them, deep in her own mind. this is what the world has given her, continuously: mundanity worth dying for.  and yet, shams' story is one narrated by loss. she watches people slip through her fingers, her thoughts plagued by the sight of faces she fears are slowly started to escape her memory. her path is not as kind to the soul as one may think and she finds that the soul that has led her this far may begin to fade with time as well if they cannot quell this incoming storm. she wonders what will become of her if her reckoning wins.  ❛ so you will not come to see me off at death’s door? a terrible way to treat an old friend. ❜ she asks quietly and watches as his expression sinks into something melancholic. she hates that she’s brought down the atmosphere.  she reaches up and take a deep breath, lingering at the gold plated ring at the end of her braid, thumb brushing over the cold metal. on the inside is an engraving, hidden to the world, only for her to see and feel when it rests against her warm skin. 

you're not going. i will not lose you.

her own smile does little to steady her, but it is a genuine one nonetheless.  ❛ you know i cannot be selfish with this. it is not merely my fate we speak of. ❜ she lets out another breath. ❛ i am sure that once the time comes, you'll be able to make sure that everyone is safe. but for that to happen ... you know i will need to go. ❜ her fingers curl and uncurl against her palm, as if the image still lingers in her knuckles— the moment when she will begin to fade from herself, succumbing to the raw, violent nature of the primal. she felt that terrifying realm press against her bones like a second layer of muscles, merging with her very soul. but if she does not act in the correct manner, she knows she will step into another nightmare, see her deepest fear manifest. her care for those that would become affected by it outweighs all, really. ❛ we can continue looking at more knowledge into the matter. i do not mind. i do have hope that we could possibly find an ounce of something, but then what? ❜ she pauses. ❛ what is it you think will happen? ❜

[sarastuss]

BODIES PRESSED SO CLOSE ; LIKE EVERY INCH APART WOULD BE A CRIME AGAINST A PROMISE MADE LONG AGO. the promise, that had kept the two of them reaching for one another, across time &. space. desperate were her hands to hold onto him, for a soul burning so bright to cling to the one that kept reaching for it. soft mattress underneath her, back arching off it toward his, skin slick with the heat between them there, as if to prove to both of them that this is real ; this is no dream neither one of them must awake from, hearts left full of longing &. yearning. all-too-well, do they know such depths.

the clean-cut stone walls of baldesion annex echoed with the softest sighs of pleasure ; angelic melody breathed right against his cheek. ❝ g'raha, ❞ a moan forged by his name, followed by a satisfying inhale with another push of his hips, her own body answering in turn. a body that had endured more than one body should, a body, that is both an ethereal weapon &. a shield. a body, that was forged to be the guiding light ... now, not answering to the star, in this moment. simply, solely, to him.

the endurance of her proved once more, when there was no telling just how long the two had been at this. how many times had her body felt that pleasant wave of heat, how it tightened &. relaxed her muscles in the same breath. still, that golden heart of hers asked ; more. still, did his mouth, his hands ... all of him touch her with the hunger of a man who knew how it felt to witness someone stand right there ... yet not reach. the painful ache of twitching fingers, when still, they shifted, if only slightly, toward the one a heart called out for.

HER MOUTH FILLS WITH HIS NAME ; THE WAY HE FILLS HER UP AGAIN &. AGAIN IN A RHYTHM THAT IS MEANT TO DRAW OUT SUCH SOUNDS. something so heavenly, sounding so ruined.

@eternalswind : i love the sounds you make … i can't get enough.

the voice of him comes maddeningly smooth against the skin of her neck, proof of his existence left right there after. golden glow of her eyes becomes more prominent in the dimly lit room, &. the warrior of light must close her eyes against at the overflowing sensation of it all. ❝ ha,— ❞ it is but a pleasant breath she manages at first, corners of lush lips tugged upwards, ❝ you— ❞ a swallow interrupts her once, a sweet spot found, &. her nails dig into his back, against his upper arm harder. proof of her own existence. ❝ you should hear yourself, my love. ❞

a tidal wave gathers within ; hot &. pleasant, taunting &. so sweet. it makes her body shift against his even more, urgency added to the rhythm. ❝ g'raha— ❞ his name again, ❝ g'raha, please, ❞ she finds his mouth then, her lips soft &. slow against his, the touch of them something she could worship alone. ❝ i an so... so close, ❞ another heavenly sound against his lips, ❝ give me all of you. ❞ another kiss, more open-mouthed when another exhale is drawn out so sweetly. ❝ as all of me is yours. ❞

have me in a way no one else ever could.