#thedonofzaun

[zaunfree]

♡ (either younger or older)

Send ♡ to see what my muse thinks of yours

●●○○○ | ATTRACTION ●●●●○ | AFFECTION ●●●○○○ | INTEREST ●●●●○ | LOYALTY ●●○○○ | TRUST

Even though his younger version is still naive by comparison, if he can't be fond of himself, who can he be? It leaves Silco a little nostalgic for those days gone by, where possibilities and passions intermingled.

[zaunfree]

🤏 grabbing them by the jaw, forcing them to look up and keep their faces closer

aggressive sexual tension emoji prompt! send one of the following emoji for my muse to react to yours…

Not all that much has changed over the years, it seems. His passions still sits just under the surface; a crust of cooler slag hiding molten metal, just waiting to break open and release the fury within. The only thing that seems to have is how difficult it is to crack. But Silco knows himself well——all the weak points that will never fully be tempered out, the ones that bubble and spark when prodded just right. Even if the Silco he's looking at has a couple of decades on himself. The younger man sneers fiercely against almost-bruising fingers while his own wind into the lapels of that ridiculously-overblown coat. "Now what, old man? You have me where you want me," he only taunts further, provoking shamelessly. Two seaglass-green eyes hold their mismatched counterparts challengingly, "Or don't you have the bollocks to finish what you started?" One slender, wrapped hand releases its grip to graze over that fine gold-edged vest (something no doubt worth more than everything he owned back in his own reality). They slide steadily, boldly, downward. While the years haven't been that kind to him, it seems they've not taken that sleek musculature away entirely yet. Silco can feel that physique clench subtly beneath his fingertips. He doesn't hesitate when they reach his older counterpart's slim-fitting slacks. "Perhaps you've forgotten what it's like to live a little. Why don't I remind you?"