Castle of Lions

❝  i   love   you   ,   ❞   murmurs   reverently   into   the   limited   space   between   countenances   ,   sentiment   nearly   soundless   as   uttered   breathlessly   into   the   hollow   of   the   older   wolf's   mouth   .   only   then   does   she   pull   back   ,   just   enough   to   meet   orbs   of   earthen   sage   once   more   .   ❝  i   think   my   dad   is   going to   completely freak out   ,   but   .   .   .   i   really do   ;   i   love   you   ,   will   .   ❞   first   and   second   uttering   less   ceremonious   than   planned   ,   though serene ,   enamored   embrace   in   which   the   pair   tangle   teems   with   enough   enamored   affection   to   prove   the   words   aloud   redundant   .

In a way he understood where she was coming from, so many different factors had made their relationship one that maybe shouldn't have happened. And yet they couldn't deny the pull they felt towards one another. It was why he was sure in his feelings for her and why he wasn't going to entirely push her away. He couldn't bring himself to despite everything. His arms around her don't fall, but instead keep her close even as she pulls him into a deep kiss. Will doesn't pull away, helping he intensity between the two build until lungs scream for air. Only then does he pull away but only enough to take in a deep breath.

Hearing those three words, Will couldn't help but let his smile grow. His hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from her cheek and tuck it behind her ear. All between the kisses before feelings can be expressed back. "I love you too, Niamh." There was no hesitation in his confession. Green gaze remaining on her the entire time, though he knew how right she was. Duncan was going to freak out, something not entirely able to explain but he hoped he could understand. "So, who is going to tell him then?" He chuckles slightly. "Me or you?"

I turn to Ares.

Thanks to Tyler Miles Lockett who allowed me to draw inspiration from his ARES piece for page 2! Look at his etsy page it's SICK

She was a confusing one in his opinion, not that it surprised him that she was so ready to die rather than embrace the anger that ran through her veins as power. He has slain plenty of Jedi who had been in her position but none had seemed to put up a fight with a belief of something he has never heard of. There was no Vong, Dagon was confident he would have heard something about them in some form and yet he knew there was nothing. The only time she had made sense in all of this was when she denied the offer given to her, to turn from the so called light. But that was where it ended. "I don't? I don't speak of false empires." He spat back but his damned curiosity was getting the better of him. Was she back from the uncharted regions? Was there a threat to his plans that he wasn't aware of, slowly encroaching? It was why he let her live, why he hadn't cut her life short just yet despite the instinct to do so. Yet as she went on, the mention of unknown Sith made his jaw tense. An empire he did not know but the mention of Galactic Empire had him thinking now that maybe this wasn't the case.

were   the   question   not   answered   with   merely   the   look   in   her   eyes   ,   certainly   the   hellhound   will   find   resolution   within   sudden   ,   frenzied   lip   lock   into   which   the   demon   tugs   him   .   breathless   sigh   curls   hot   into   the   gesture   ,   palms   groping   frantically   at   any   inch   of   the   man   within   her   reach   .   ❝   you’re   fucking   unbearable   ,   ❞   nearly   growls   ,   though   timbre   entirely   undercut   by   lust   ,   and   need   ,   and   just   the   smallest   hint   of   affection   .   ❝   don’t   know   why   you   use   your   mouth   to   talk   so   much   when   i   can   think   of   a   thousand   far   preferable   uses   right   now   .   .   .   ❞

Urian couldn't help it, he always had to push buttons and test the waters of the tolerance of those he interacted with. It never mattered their power or position, that was just what he did. If one asked him, he'd argue it was part of his charm. His brothers would disagree. He can see what it does to her and, of course, he never bothers to change it. Maybe part of how it irritates her is also how they end up in the situations they did. "Yes it is and I think it's working out just fine." He counters, unbothered as he sees the smirk dance upon her lips. It was all a part of her teasing, he knew that by now. Urian doesn't even move, half leaning in to her touch until she pokes him. The surprise sensation making him chuckle and slightly jerk back as a hand moves to rub over the spot. "I don't know, maybe I thought you should hear it too." There's a wink with his words, once more testing the waters with her as he often did.

And he could see it was just enough to make her close the gap between the two. Arms wrapping around her to keep her close as lips meet in a heated kiss. "You love it." He counters, chuckling into the kiss as he presses her against larger form. Both nearly trying to egg the other one with the wandering of hands and the passion between words. "I'm listening then." He says, now lifting her up in his arms so legs could wrap around his waist. This time carrying somewhere more private as he pins her back to the nearest wall. "Tell me what you think my mouth can do for you." He nips at her bottom lip, pulling it slightly with his teeth.

                   Head tilting slightly for a brief moment, a jerk of a movement, Jaina pressed the side of her hand quickly to her lips, holding back the laughter that seemed apparently more ready to burst out of her than she thought.     ❝  Honestly?   I have no idea.   Maybe they were pranking you?  ❞     She could completely see some of the other pilots withholding information as a means of hazing the man without getting pulled up by their collars, especially if said pilots thought he would pass both tests.   Sounds like yet another issue she would have to track down.   To imply that the Resistance was so lax with their protocols for starfighter assignments wasn’t exactly the impression any of the commanders wanted out there.     ❝  To confirm, we do need to trust you, but that trust gets you the opportunity to test, not the other way around.  ❞

A chuckle left him as head shook. "Yeah, I'm pickin' up on that now." He says with a sheepish smile, brown gaze casted down for a brief moment before lifting back up to her. Hazing wasn't something he had entirely anticipated but maybe he should have. Maybe they needed to find some lighthearted fun in all of this and Nick couldn't blame them. However, he did feel a little ridiculous about it all and at least it was to her. Maybe. He still should have known better, he thinks and mentally he does curse himself a bit for it but he tries to at least hide the embarrassment as best he can. "No I know you need to trust me, I never questioned that." His hands shift to rest upon his hips rather than crossed over his chest. "I want to earn that trust to test. I do. I just need the opportunities to do it and I suppose this is it." His hand lifts to point behind him to the cargo.

❝  don’t   go  ,   ❞   pantomimes   ,   puppeteering   the   severed   head   as   though   made   merely   of   cloth   and   sticks   .   ❝  ili   wants   to   play   !   ❞ delivers   the   softest   kiss   to   lapis   brims   ,   before   once   more   tossing   aside   the   still   warm   head   and   entwining   bloodstained   digits   .   ❝   don’t   you   want   to   paint   with   me   ?   ❞   a   streak   of   red   ,   from   slender   shoulder   down   across   supple   breast   ,   embellishes   the   facetious query   as   one   thin   tank   strap   falls   over   pointed   elbow   .   tugs   the   other   down   to   match   ,   then   opts   to   roll   the   fabric   down   and   entirely   off   of   slender   frame   .   ❝   such   a   pretty   pigment   ,   this   ink   i   just   made   for   us   .   .   .   i   would   love   to   see   what   kind   of   art   you   can   create   ,   with   me   as   a   canvas   .   .   .   ❞

He was proud of her, how she had turned into such a deadly creature from his own hand. Words couldn't describe it and he didn't entirely try to either. Even his own expression showed little more than what his words could convey. And he knew in the end that would be something that didn't settle well upon the other demon. "You are more of an artist than I anticipated, though I am seeing how wrong I was to think otherwise." He answers, letting her hands wander. "It is beautiful." He says, head only tilting slightly as she moves closer and places lips upon exposed skin. Jaw tenses at the sensation of her lips and nipping of her teeth against tanned skin. He knew what she was doing and yet he was doing nothing to stop it. Even as she moves away and bends down to tempt him further. Something else he should have seen coming as she practically begins to puppet the head in her hand. He can't help but roll his eyes as she begins before own head shakes as he takes in a breath.

Not that he was fighting much of anything she was doing. Maybe a part of him thought if he let her get this out of her system then they could leave. A maybe is all it was, in reality he knew better than that. Jaw tenses this time, dark eyes looking her over as she begins to paint herself in dark crimson before the tank top is discard and he's left with her exposed chest. Hands curl into a tight fist but what fight in him is gone, lunging forward to take one hand around her throat and the other tightly in her hair as he pulls back to aim her head up to him to claim her lips in a hard, passionate kiss while the other hand tightens around her throat. No doubt she knows she won now, not plans to leave as he moves to pin her against wooden frame of nearby destroyed structure with his body as he lets bloodied hand around her throat squeeze just tighter to match the heat of the kiss.

"It was Viserys' way of punishing us, for a fight gone too far." Maiming Aemond had never been their intention, only protecting their youngest brother at the time, but their actions needed consequences. And now that the war had broken out, and his mother's throne usurped, he can finally see the fruition of that punishment. Had they been in the Red Keep when his grandsire had passed, there would have been time to act. Instead, they had been ignorant on Dragonstone, only informed via raven, a generic missive sent to the great houses of all of the realm, a slap in the face, over a week after the death of the late-King.

Brows furrow, almost a moment taken in by the ghost to realize what that had meant. Laenor was dead? How long had it truly been? Sure he was seeing Jace older before him but he knew how Harrenhal could play tricks on the mind. Only, he was that trick now wasn't he? Trapped within its very walls from a death many years ago it seemed. No doubt the expression alone on the face of the former knight was what brought about the time being said. That and the fact he seemed angry still, looking at him and Harwin could not blame him. It seemed not many things had changed since the other was a child. "Ten years...." He repeats, nodding as he takes in a breath as a hand lifts to run through brown curls and remove them from his face before looking back at the other.

More information leaving him unprompted, but it seemed only bad news was all it was. Fate, it seemed, deemed to give his sons and those he loved a rather difficult life. A part of him wonders if it would have been better had he lived or would it have only complicated things further. Thoughts not said aloud, the other angry enough as it was that he felt it better to keep that more to himself. "I'm...sorry to hear that." It also explained several things, why Jace was here and not Dragonstone or the Keep. Why, who he thought was Daemon only for it to be confirmed, was in his home. Some days he remembered he was dead, others he found it was harder to remember. This had been one of those until he saw Jace. The memory of time passing slowly seeping into his mind.