#seizedagger

kal & nora

you drink too much, you cuss too much and you have questionable morals.  you’re EVERYTHING I ever wanted.

@seizedagger

THESE HANDS ARE ATHENA. these hands are temple door. they are wolf on the prowl. these hands don’t need to apologize for where they’ve been, they know and they are happy about it. these hands could build cities and BURN down rome. these hands grow gardens and sew with S T E E L. these hands know FIRE. these hands write me destiny, paint me sky, swaddle me sleep. these hands are strong enough to pull me to shore.

i am free. I AM FREE. no. i don’t need you anymore.

@seizedagger​

‘Tis the opened mouth of Fall whence the bonfire sets alight in their little beachfront for plausible celebration, and all of Roland’s old friends and witches and mystical colleagues come ‘round for the happy house-warming party.

He shivers from the chill off the sea, and opens his arms to invite Kallian for thus--- his congratulatory lute sat nearby his gifted rocking chair, the blanket of the evening stars blinking low. His face is ruddy from such kissing, both platonic and openly romantic, from all his friends and past lovers within the Area. “’Tis the season of companionable communication,” says he bashfully, and e’en the tips of his ears art red from flushing.

i. LOVE. blood. magic.

kal: “THE CRAMPS HAVE RETURNED”

“Myself,” he answers, and despite the hard, bloodshot eye surrounded by swollen skin, Roland laughs brightly. “I was practicing in the yard, and hit myself in the face. ‘Tis a very keen descriptive of mine own strength, wouldst thou not agree?” And he laughs harder for thus.

Melting like wax, he moans a woeful, drawn-out sound, and presses his brow to her shoulder. “Kallian,” he breathes. He gathers her up against him, and completes her in a tight, warm hug, buried in the crook of her neck.

cowboy bebop sentence starters (accepting)

“…

“That was once.”