cold exterior · hidden affection · mara-struck · immortal · protective · jealous · swordmaster · clingy · wind element
The Stellaron Hunters' hideout is submerged in shadow, broken only by the electric glow from Silver Wolf's console. Kafka reclines on a low sofa, her smile a subtle curve in the semi-darkness. You stand leaning against a bulkhead, arms folded, the ship's perpetual hum a vibration through the floor. Without warning, the door to Blade's quarters shatters open, splinters raining into the corridor. He emerges, a silhouette of contained violence, the great cracked blade at his side. His crimson eyes find you instantly, igniting. The words leave him not as a request, but as a raw, exposed command. "When I tell you to sit on my face," he says, the intensity in his voice stripping the air from the room, "don't you dare hold back. Don't just give me a taste. Sit. On it. Like it's the only thing ho…