When Khora joined Greyback's crew, his first thought was:
“She will replace the child I don't have, but subconsciously I know that she will cause big problems.”
Sonet and Neto rarely get to go on dates. She works, and he tries to prove that he is a worthy partner (to Sonet and her dad (Pawr'l hates him)).
@magnuspool, I think you should show this photo to Tukie so that he tries to get your attention. Or Khora will help you in a way that is morally questionable.
thinking about how ursula k leguin said "what goes too long unchanged destroys itself. The forest is forever because it dies and dies and so lives" and how everyday i wake up slightly different and i can feel myself shed the skin of who i used to be slowly, slowly, until i look back and can scarcely recognise who i was... but also she is still a part of me, part of the leaf litter and the humus, supporting me as i send new roots down and new leaves stretching up to the sunlight
sum. The lads men telling you how much of a pretty girl you are. (early-relationship.)
notes. Thank u to the anon who suggested this, and the anons who told me to use tumblr website so i can put more than 10 images!!! No warnings for this one, pure fluff, kinda suggestive for xavier. Enjoy as always!
Tags: Allies to enemies, slow burn, forbidden love, fantasy/medieval au, deception, worldbuilding, character development, chivalry, angst, conflict of interest, romance, eventual smut, primal play, dirty talk, banter, possessiveness
Summary: Sylus was born for the sake of the dragons. Infiltrate, deceive, then execute. He was prepared to sacrifice his sanity, forever hidden behind his armor. Until the noble he is contracted to chips away at it, one steel plate at a time. Even if she wishes to find him, however, his heart lies behind a wall of treason.
Word Count: 636
Sylus Masterlist | Next
Sylus never removed his helmet.
A secret he kept, revealed in the notches of his pupils, the gleam of his canines. Treason was hidden in quarters: covert missives and vials of blood.
But you, his ever-so-curious noble, worked day and night to pry into the mystery of him, albeit involuntarily. Your affections were ferried by your scent - intrigue, security, and arousal. It was the gait in his walk, maybe even the timber of his voice that ignited something in you, despite the lack of his physical appearance. For all you had known, he could have had a sinister look, one seemingly unveiling his evil deeds.
Yet you still dug deeper. Elegant flirtation often directed at a prince, found its way to him, winding its seductive song through the slits of his ribs. When it wasn’t elegant, it was shameless.
“Will you ever tell me the color of your hair?” You had asked one slow afternoon, the two of you seated on a stone bench beside a lake.
You had said his chuckle was ruptured, broken into individual syllables, unlike the faux courtship given by nobility. It never failed to make you grin, as you did now.
“My lady,” he strung the beats of your title into one, enticing breath, “a Knight only reveals information they are required to.”
“I would categorize it as required,” you slanted your body in his direction, knocking shoulders, “how else will I be able to fantasize about pulling it.”
The tick in the corner of his mouth would have satisfied you plenty. Your candor, which had been widely criticized, tickled the instincts weaved into his heritage. The others had characterized you as a threat simply from your human traits.
It was not you who signed the directives, nor was it you who partook in conversation regarding the slaying of dragons. The ideology forced upon you by your inner-circle would take months to unravel, but it was feasible, nonetheless.
That was if it were him at the helm of such an endeavor.
Intolerable thoughts, he had been told. Only once had he made the grave mistake of expressing his sentiment towards you, otherwise known as adolescent enthusiasm, the fault of feeling invincible.
You too had fallen victim to such naivety.
A Knight had no standing with a noble. His duty was to protect a land considered sacred. If it was a matter between your safety and the future of this Kingdom, his oath stated it was imperative to prioritize the latter.
You knew that, having splayed your name across his pact with somber ink.
Your hands had been so tiny, innocent eyes wide as they tried to decipher complex vocabulary. As he had expected, even back then, you did not falter. The miniscule tremble in your limbs and the bead of sweat accumulating at your hairline could only be seen by someone equipped with heightened senses - such as himself.
And as your Knight, he would not reveal anything that would jeopardize your vanity.
He had kneeled, his forearm crossing over his chest so his hand could rest over his heart.
He had reported that night back to his Flight. He had accomplished what he had been sent to do - infiltrate. The rest would be achieved in time, even if it took months, years, or decades, Sylus was a patient man when it came to his schemes.
Decades it had taken before he had a secure grasp on his betrayal.
Decades it had taken before his scales began to crack under the weight of your affection.
Sylus never removed his helmet.
A secret he kept, revealed in the notches of his pupils, the gleam of his canines. Infatuation was hidden in his features: fond eyes and blatant smiles.
Sylus never removed his helmet, it was his last defense.
Rouge cakes soon mold, and the flowers wait for no one. No sooner are you done picking, then they bloom again.
ONLY YESTERDAY (1991) dir. Isao Takahata
gummygunk
theartofmadeline
vaporwave
stormborns
