December 2025

It’s a risky thing to mock a killer.

Not to mention daft, though the man is anything but. He taunts, this foxlike amalgam of smiles and silver-blinks, because this is what foxes do, and isn’t he apt at this game— isn’t he handsome, there in the manner of a penitent, clean light delineating his face in crags and toothy shapes— his hand a-waiting, eager for a sign that it may trail upwards again and snatch the breath from an assassin’s mouth.

“Mind your tongue”, but he says it half-hearted, and it only broadens the other’s grin.

“You’ll find it’s made of silver”, Martin retorts, “and well able to please you.”

more Dishonored toxic yaoi. if anyone wants.