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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    Solace;
    #11
    ”I’m not so sure about smart,” he admits with a contemplative blink and turn of his head. The burden of the truth weighs heavily on him and while he doesn’t yet elaborate, there is a creeping darkness in his mismatched eyes as he stares off into the distant hills. While Solace turns her back to him and descends into the pond’s depths, Castile’s body ripples forebodingly with scales. By the time she is turning to meet his gaze, he has no reptilian resemblance.

    (Feed)

    It stirs within him, starving, restless.

    He has been neglecting it, suppressing it desperately out of fear. Focus, he tells himself, and his eyes flicker from the rippling water back to Solace. ”You are too hard on yourself,” the reassurance is spoken with the most tender of tones despite how the creature within him is coming to life, especially at the mentioning of Amet. While they had been childhood friends, their relationship teetered and was finally quashed because of a woman. He heard the tales of Hyaline’s beginning and what transpired while mother ruled Nerine’s shores. Castile almost indulges Solace, but reconsiders; it is news of the past, no longer important.

    ”Hyaline remains a sanctuary and it still has an abundance of life,” he glances in the direction they had left her home behind just as she does. There is a heaviness in her voice as doubt clouds her thoughts. Tentatively, Castile reaches forward to brush her shoulder. It is their first bit of contact and while a greater part of him wants to savor the fleeting intimacy, he instead reels back.

    (Feed)

    ”I’m dangerous, Solace.” He doesn’t know how to begin – how to continue – and he doesn’t want this to ever end. ”I don’t have control… And I don’t ever want to hurt you,” but he doesn’t mean by breaking her heart. Another dragged step is taken back, almost afraid that an inner hunger will set him loose.


    #12

    Solace


    I’m not so sure about smart

    The light has left his tone and a chill seems to creep into the air around them. With a tilt of her head, she watches this stallion, almost skeptically, looking for the hidden meaning in his words. He was so different from Smoak; he was no transparent like Svedka.
    She almost didn't know how to read him.

    Then his tender tones are washing over her, smoothing away the questions in her mind and the suspicion he awakens. He touches her, and she realizes how long she has been waiting for this moment as her breath catches in her throat. 

    The gravel drags below his hoves as he moves away from her, no, she will not have it. She slides close, bringing her face close to his. But the hesitation is back, tightening his stance and chilling his words. 

    Pushing her out, then pulling her back - she was growing tired of this dance. 

    "I'm not as helpless as most seem to think." Her voice is low, she doesn't believe him. Her heavy lashes fall closed over her eyes as she reaches her muzzle out to brush his cheek. What could he do to her? Whatever it was couldn't be worse than the loneliness which swallowed her every night.

    "I'm tired of always having everything under control, aren't you?" 

    Little does she know, they are on completely different pages. 

    caretaker of hyaline




    idk which way the muse is taking you, but permission granted for pretty much anything short of death <3
    Solghostdoll2

    #13
    Solace doesn’t give him release. She doesn’t let the space between them last for more than a heartbeat before she is pressing against him. Her body heat melts with his own. For a long moment, Castile’s eyes shut to savor the delectable contact that he has wanted for months – years? – and he yearns for it to last so much longer. With an unfamiliar tenderness, he traces the soft arch her neck down to her chest.

    (She’s addictive)
    (Mine)

    The intimacy is alluring and he is fighting the primal urge to pull her into his embrace, to force her against his side as she tempts him with her honeyed words.

    ”Solace,” the taste of her name is a drug that tantalizingly drips from his tongue, half in lust, half in warning. ”I need to stay in control,” he murmurs into her neck before slowly tracing his mouth up to the curve of her jaw, then her cheek. ”I cannot hold it back. I cannot protect you.” There is something primitive in the way his alter ego works, how it functions and hunts. It would make her its own – whether as prey or a prisoner – and he cannot picture how it would darken her pretty face. Castile doesn’t want to be the reason of her mistrust or her fear, but she is luring the dark foreboding.

    She doesn’t know what she’s getting into.

    He breathes her in again, slowly. The heat of their touch is overwhelming and it’s clouding his thoughts. When he blinks, slit pupils are staring at her.
    He blinks again and they’re normal.

    ”You would be afraid,” his voice has dropped to barely a whisper, ”You wouldn’t want me near you.”

    #14

    Solace


    His eyes slide closed as they finally meld together, sharing warmth a winter late. She gives into him, supple under his roaming lips as he traces the curves of her face - nearly oblivious to the meaning of his words. He says her name in a way no one ever had, and she only want's to hear him say it again. But instead, he returns to voicing his concern. 

    'I cannot hold it back. I cannot protect you.'

    When her electric blue eyes find his, they are not Castile's eyes - or at least not the ones she has come to know. Disentangling herself she steps back, suddenly realizing that he is speaking of something else entirely

    that she is a fool

    He didn't mean what she thought, his interpretation of control was much more literal. He was concerned for her physical safety, not just breaking her heart. As she stands in front of him, a pace apart, she had no experience to fall back on, no practiced kiss to subdue him and confirm that she knows how this works and it will all be ok. She feels exposed, vulnerable but her hardening features do not show it. 

    "Why? What have you done?" Her voice is ragged, nearly a croak in her defeat. But there is a new electricity crackling in her chest as his eyes change again and she wonders what kind of beast she has awakened. 

    Confusion tainted with injured pride clouds her eyes, threatening to morph into something else. She wanted him, she admits to herself, and he had to know it too. 

    Yet still, he stands, insisting she can not handle him. 

    caretaker of hyaline

    Solghostdoll2

    #15
    It’s cold when she peels away from him. It’s a raw feeling like his skin has been ripped from his body. Castile stares after her, wanting her close again, wanting her warmth to mingle intimately with his. ”Solace,” he chokes her name, a quiet whisper, as she looks at him with those radiant blue eyes. She is beginning to understand, but now he is having regrets. He wanted to be honest with her, to prepare her, but now he wants to take it all back if it means holding her longer.

    (Take her)

    ”I…” he doesn’t know how to respond, how to not frighten her more than she already is, ”I don’t know.” Because truly, he isn’t sure. It’s like his vision turns a scarlet red and he loses grip on reality, on everything he has ever known. When it surfaces, it isn’t Castile anymore.

    Their touches – so passionate, filled with a deep wanting – has already fueled his adrenaline, given life to the shackled creature. ”I’ve always wanted you,” but she was always out of reach, always a forbidden fruit.

    (She’s ours now)

    Castile can hear the pounding of his heart in his ears; it’s deafening and nearly blocks out the chatter thickening Hyaline’s air. He steps forward – a confident, prowling movement – to be close to her again. His chest leans into her shoulder, his head craning across her neck. They are entwined so beautifully, so passionately, that he is forgetting about the world around them. When he breathes, he is drinking her in. Addicted. He has always been addicted. ”Solace,” he murmurs her name again, silkily, lustfully, and doesn’t realize how his wings are changing shape. The feathers recede to expose thin, reptilian skin. A talon punctuates each arm as they reach to somehow hold her.

    (Take her)

    The hissing voice is louder in his head.

    A primal urge is seeded in his mind. He wants her, needs her.

    The warmth of her body is intoxicating and he can’t help how his eyes drift shut and how his mouth opens to softly caress the arch of her neck. It all seems right as they fall peril to their desires (if only he knew she wanted him, too).

    (Mine)

    The voice is overwhelming now as it takes over and clouds his every thought, his every instinct. It elongates his teeth and cracks his bones. It rips through his skin with scales and spines. It consumes Castile.

    Its mouth is still on the crest of her neck, its jagged teeth pressing to her skin, its hooked talons stemming from the wings holding her, cutting her. It could easily take her now, rip her, destroy her, but the voice it has always fought against is now reversed. It is no longer the hissing subconscious – Castile is.

    (Don’t hurt her)

    There is a desperate plea in his voice that somehow breaks the primal barrier of the dragon. Unexpectedly, it unlatches its grip on Solace, growling as its size continues to increase with the finality of the shift. Dark plumes of smoke spiral from its nostrils as it steps away from her, every footfall quaking the ground underfoot. Its talons churn the soil, ripping it with every inch of movement as it reels back to look at Solace with mismatched, slit pupils. There is nothing kind in its expression as it is forced to look away. A bellowing roar rips from its core before launching itself into the air and melting into the gray clouds overhead, sparing her this time.





    Hopefully this is ok! I know we wanted to wrap up the thread and you were fine with something happening to Solace, but nothing detrimental Smile If not, let me know and I can edit the post
    #16

    Solace


    She still does not understand. He insists that he is bad, but he will not tell her why. He refuses to allower her to make up her own mind, shielding her from the truth she wants to hear.

    But as he steps forward she does not move away, she can not move away. His burning mouth on her skin is enough to make her rational mind falter. "Castile, I..."

    But words she would have spoken will never be known, even to herself, for the surreal popping of his changing anatomy bewilders her. Sinues, tendons, bones, all these things alter and for one purpose - so the grabbing, heavy-breathed weight of him may better hold her in his sharp and loveless grasp.

    This time as he heaves her name the hot ache in her belly withers away, her instincts are screaming at her to fly away. But it is too late now, she is no longer allowed that luxury - choice is an extravagance she is not powerful enough to command. Solace understands what he had been trying to tell her now, as his weight covers her, and his too-sharp teeth divide her skin.

    This is not the soft and sure love-work she had dreamed of
    This was primal

    "Stop!" She cries as his wing talons dig into her shoulders, she didn't want this - not like this. She knows she must fight him (or try at least), but before she has a chance he is lifting away on his own, expanding as he does so.

    The earth sways below his claws and she moves with it. A dragon seems to completely fill the field of her vision and at that moment she is fragile, as her face tilts skyward into that of her almost-lover and he shakes the mountains with his roar.

    Then, he leaves.
    He leaves her there with the iron-red stains running down her neck and shoulders and a new understanding of the world she inhabited.

    She hates him for it.

    caretaker of hyaline



    No, he was perfect!! Already looking forward to the reunion Tongue
    Solghostdoll2





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