#prythaei

[literare]

@prythaei & starter call.

brutality follow him like a shadow, have been for years & there is a reason he lives up to the nickname. the hellhound. beneath sandriel, in the triarii, viciousness has become a safety. become part of him. ingrain in his soul, in his bones. even now, maw crunch down around throat & the hound wrench his head like it's nothing but a ragdoll in his mouth. not good people, these. but somehow he doesn't think he would have cared if they were. blurred together, everything became the same. no face, no name, only death. sleek frame turn after dropping the limp body and gaze zero in on the blonde woman & fluid movements freeze. paw mid step, rumble choke in throat. taking her in. asessing her sure, but it has nothing to do with looking for a weakness, and everything to do with the unfamiliar tug in his chest. towards her. takes in her features, the colored streaks in her hair & the leather jacket. frozen in the moment, as if he could take in everything that she is and commit it to memory, least it's the last time he see her. and the thought squeeze uncomfortably in his chest. hurt nearly enought to bring him to his knees.

[scribare-archive]

it always pains him, having to see her go, to have her walk away, over and over again. never knowing when he will see her again. if he will see her again. think he probably will never get used to it, and he doesn't want to get used to it, honestly. but they don't have a choice. it's everything they get. brief moments, brief meetings & nothing more. not with the world they live in right now. so, perhaps he wants to ask her to stay. ask her to run away with him, just the two of them : to never look back again. a foolish, naive dream. and it can never be anything more than that. so there's a smile while pushing off the bed in the run down motel they are renting a room for the night, arms loosely wrap around her middel.     ❝   yes, i do actually have something to say.   ❞      tsks softly, smile tugging at the corner of lips. ❝   i missed you.   ❞

@prythaei : you look like you've got something to say.

[behrdara]

" you seem worried by something, lord azriel. "

it surprises even gwyneth herself, the fact that she has directly voiced her concern out loud. not because it is unlike her, but because she can read people well enough to know when not to do so. lord azriel is a distant man, or so she feels him to be, and she assumes he prefers to keep his problems to himself.

still, she moves closer, up on the balcony where he stands at the stone edge, and positions herself next to the male. conflicted by the part of her who feels he stole her away from her home ( which clashes with the deep grattitude she feels toward him ), gwyn remains silent for a second, as if collecting her thoughts before finally murmuring, " there is a saying in sangravah that goes 'divine burdens are never twice as heavy as the backs of their carriers ' it means whatever it is that troubles you, be sure it will be solved. " @prythaei ft. azriel.

[literare]

@prythaei said : you’re gonna walk away from this ?

he should walk away. for all his bravado, it'd be the safest thing to do. would be the reasonable thing to do. walk away & all of this would become nothing but a faint memory one day, something he would forget as the years passed. and he knows, had it been anyone else . . . he would have walked without second guessing it. sofie however, she somehow made it under his skin, effortlessly so. how, or even when, he had no idea. it's not like he made it a habit to help, to comfort, to think about any except himself. reputation of being cold & he quite liked it that way, made most things a little easier. twitch of his jaw and hands flex at his sides : gaze settled upon her for quite a few moments. yes. only the three letters, the one single word. it shouldn't be this hard.     ❝   what do you want me to do, sofie ?   ❞ comes out a sigh after a while, slight shrug of shoulder.

[literare]

@prythaei & starter call.

it is not like she wished him harm. lucien was . . . something she didn't know how to handle. the whole situation, that is. because it was complicated enough to settle into her new self. being a high fae. her whole life as she knew it, herself as she knew it, was gone & she could do nothing to get her back. thought she had her life planned out. marry graysen, become a lady and be happy. in her old life, in her own way. nothing like this. not being high fae. not being a seer. not being thrown into the cauldron & suddenly everything had been taken and decided for her. told they were a gift, the things she could see, but she never wanted it. and they were overwhelming. for months, it was all she could focus on : needed time to settle within herself once more. the jacket he put over her shoulders when she was pushed out of the cauldron curled into her hands while she walk down the stairs & there's a soft inhale. steeling herself in a way. rare she sought him out. not sure what to make of the mating bond. not sure she wanted it, but there was no ignoring it.     ❝   i never brought you your jacket back.   ❞      stops at a slight distance, still holding it tightly, part of her not wanting to let it go. new instinct to keep it close, even if it's lost his scent.

[literare]

@prythaei

a smile form upon features, seeing him lounging on the couch. relaxed, content. it's something she never thought she would see upon him. always some tension upon his features & now there isn't, not when around her. seeing him like this, it has easily become one of her favorites. walking across the floor before crawling ontop of him like it's the most natural thing in the world : content as she slant herself onto him, nuzzling into the cook of his neck. tip of her nose brushing against pulsepoint, breathing him in as hands tuck in to her body & fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.     ❝   good evening.   ❞      low murmur, lips ghost against him when speaking, smile growing a bit. just enjoying being close. loving every second of it.

[literare]

@prythaei

a ripple of pure magic worked through the village, through the air, through their world & feeling the power, the surge of it unlike anything she has felt in quite some time now : she is quick to leave the safety of her cottage that has sported as her home the last fifty or so years. hidden away behind a veil of her doing, offering a safe haven for those who could get here. become a small mix from different courts over the years. boots softly creaking against the snow, icy blue gaze scouring the sky for anything, as if an attack could rain down upon them any given moment. and she guess it could. wouldn't be the first time. keeping firm grip on sword in one hand, making sure there is only clear blue sky above them, before gaze is pulled towards the rest of the village. people might be confused & looking around like she just did, but nothing look amiss. no screams of terror, no blood coloring the snow crimson. there is no attack.

a sigh of relief before turning back towards her cottage, freezing midstep when seeing him. fifty years and he hasn't changed at all. but he has changed. so much in ways she can't begin to explain. still, memories of their last meeting, his goodbye to her. parting words of love. sword fall against the snow & it break her out of the trance she is in : striding towards him. tried to free him, find a way to bring him back to her. realized she loved him aswell. promised herself if she ever saw him again . . . she loved him. and she never got to tell him back. smile forming upon features & tears falling as hands drift up to cradle his face, lips crash against his.

[literare]

@prythaei & starter call.

never dared to look at him before. not truly. not like she could get lost, while taking him all in. towers above her, even now. taller as fae & she still have to tilt her head back to watch him up close. hand is gentle as it lift, fingertips threading through his hair before landing at his jaw and sliding forward until touching against scar. starting at his jawline & follow up a line towards his brow, taken it in at a distance before. doesn't take away from his beauty however. gaze drift from where she is touching him before drifting up to find his : pushing herself up to stand on the ball of her feet. gain a little more height. a little nervous perhaps. not sure what it means exactly. wanted it to be her own choice to fall in love & perhaps she did, somewhere along the way. talking to him, getting to know him. seeing him more, being around him. not pushing him away at every turn. he stand perfectly still, nearly uncanny and free hand go to rest against his chest for support as she leans in, lips softly brush against his.

[scribare-archive]

never felt safe before, not like she had with him over the last couple of weeks. couldn't see his face, didn't even know his name, but there was a part of her that longed for these silent moments that came when sharing this space. perhaps in reality, in the real world, her body wasn't safe, but her mind was. this place they had together, it was safe & she craved these moments with him, no matter how brief they might be. hint of a smile quirk at the corner of lips, slouching back on a makebelieve couch : one leg cross over other. interesting, who he was in all of this, how he fit into it all and how it was still work, still on a mission ( hard habit to kick if she is being honest. ) but it was this too.     ❝   want to tell me about it ?   ❞

@prythaei : if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode.

[behrdara]

" you look tired. "

a soft blanket of burgundy shade is placed upon the other fae, curled up on the divan with a book in her hands. gwyn often wonders if the reason why nesta spends so much time submerged between the pages of dusty human romance novels is because they keep her awake. perhaps, gwyn wonders if nesta uses it as a way to avoid nightmares the same way she herself uses her time keeping the library in check. however, perhaps in that dimly lit, musk room of endless corridors and smell of old parchment, gwyneth finds not comfort, but simply an escape.

" it is already past midnight, " she offers nesta a smile, sits upon the edge of the cushioned seat, " though i suppose it hypocritical of me to ask you to get some sleep when i can't do it, either. " @prythaei ft. nesta archeron.