do you think God stays in his heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he has created?
There is something ugly and awful that dwells within him, that stalks the halls of his heart and lingers in the shadows of his mind. He does not keep it chained and yet it does not come forth just yet. Ghaul is aware that there is something coiled and writhing inside him but it eases itself when she is near. It does not bristle or bare its teeth as it savors the moments before the dragon child sinks his teeth into her. He and his monster are perfectly in tune, even in their love for her. The world quiets when she is near, inside and out. As above, so below.
She speaks his name and it sounds like an incantation, like a love potion pouring over his skin while he reacquaints himself with the angles of her face. The destroyer croons once again and leans his face against the warmth of her chest. Without any siren song or binding spells, she has tamed his feral heart enough to call it her own. His ears perk to catch her words and the flaming heart of love swells between his ribs. The raw strength of her fire could blind the sun, he’s sure. But he does not speak for a moment. He prefers instead to let her words be the only sound in the air for a while longer.
Slowly, he sighs against her skin when she offers up perfect promises that soothe his muscles. They could summon their strongest magicians to erect the greatest ramparts around her and he would tear them down like wet paper to get to her.
“You could come to Pangea – for an hour, for a day. Forever,” he says with a light shrug of his shoulders. But he would understand if she loved her home here too much to leave it. Ghaul would simply cleanse Loess first so only the most devout of their people remained alongside Clarissa. Pangea would be his throne and Loess would be its jewel, he thinks with a faint smile. She would be the morning star that sat at the very top of it all, the most beautiful of all his treasures.
“Loess is ruled by.. who? They must name you heir,” he says, and there is a hint of grit to his voice when he speaks. Slowly, carefully, he lifts his head so his horns do not knock her jaw. He watches the outline of her face as he watches her carefully. “Unless you do not stay. Whatever Clarissa wants.”
And then he rests his lips against her temple, content with whatever she decides. He often forgets that not everyone was born to crush and take as they please. No, she could just as easily be fated to live free of any troublesome kingdom ties. All he knows is that he will topple Olympus to please her.
@[clarissa] he's getting ahead of himself lmao