3/26/2026, 8:11 PM
In a small act of defiance, where prolonged focus yields damnation, Batu does not look away. Green meets lilac in totality, no longer careful.
His smirk is a curved sword. It is neither the language of imperial guard, nor docile subject. She advances her step and he brings them closer, eyes dark and alive. Near enough to inhale what cloying scent encumbers the true ripeness beneath.
“I can shield you from more than you imagine."
It is a trespass; but Batu has barred the exit.
His smirk is a curved sword. It is neither the language of imperial guard, nor docile subject. She advances her step and he brings them closer, eyes dark and alive. Near enough to inhale what cloying scent encumbers the true ripeness beneath.
“I can shield you from more than you imagine."
It is a trespass; but Batu has barred the exit.
mongolian | mandarin