CROWN OF SORROW.

@fractumregi​ :  ❝Just take it easy today.❞

“ but i took it easy yesterday. “  he argues as if he has a choice. he argues as if there isn’t a weight pressing down on his chest until it hurts to breathe; as if muscles do not shake whenever he tries to sit up. ozma can do nothing else but take it easy, though easy still means he is in pain.

“ i miss our adventures. at least let us go for a walk-- “  he coughs, loud and sickly until he tastes iron on his tongue. hand pulls away to reveal blood upon his fingers. this isn’t the first time this has happened, but it is disconcerting how frequent it is becoming. ozma deflates on the bed, all strength sapping out of him from the fit of coughs. eyes close and his expression becomes just as defeated as the rest of his body.

“ forgive me, salem. i think i’ll just rest today. “

@metalurgic​ :  “you have to be quiet if you want to cum.”

“ james... “  name falls from his lips in a hot breath. he shudders under the expert hands and mouth of his lover, head tilted back into the pillow as he gives in to the fire that ignites his nerves. ozma has never been quiet when it comes to coupling. each thrust within him is like being struck by lightning. each kiss is like a tidal wave washing over his hot body. to be quiet is nearly impossible for him, something james clearly knows by the way ozma’s breaths turn to moans so quickly.

but he tries. he bites down on his lower lip and attempts to swallow the pleas already bubbling up in his throat. ozma twitches, trying to grind his hips against something for the pleasure he is left wanting.  “ please... “  it is hardly above a whisper.

@crviis​ :  “just kiss me, i can’t take this anymore.”

if it had been with anyone else it may have sounded like a command. but with qrow it is something softer, something far more raw and desperate. it is like a hunger than burns in his heart and spreads to trembling fingers that reach up to brush along storyteller’s jaw. ozma looks up, gaze so fierce and loving as eyes rest upon qrow’s.

he is so very aware of where qrow is. his very presence seems to give off a heat ozma can feel against his flesh the closer he draws to him until he can no longer take it. eyes squeeze shut and he leans into qrow, finding his lips and kissing him with such a ravage desire. to be in his arms, to simply be close to him... it is all ozma has ever wanted.

          now that he thinks about it, qrow doesn’t exactly remember how he ended up in the knight’s room for the night. doesn’t remember crossing the threshold or much of what they talked about when the two met up with one another in the tavern across the way. where there should be facts, there’s just ozma. just his smile and his soft smiles, the way he speaks as if it’s so easy and the first thing that comes to mind. the way honeyed hues seem to make everything around them melt away when qrow meets them with his far paler gaze, the way everything else disappears into nothing but background noise when hand finds his own. 

           it’s only when he turns to leave, having convinced himself that perhaps he’s unwelcome here - that he’s outstayed his welcome - that ozma’s voice finds him again and storyteller freezes in place for a long moment. heart pounds in his ears and it takes his mind a second to fully realise what he’s being asked to do. that ozma is asking him… to stay. 

          never before has qrow been asked to stay somewhere. always that people would welcome his return, that they would love to see him back. never has he been asked to stay somewhere, asked not to leave. he’s… not sure how to react. he thinks he feels relief, something close to that, at least. a swell in his chest and up his throat as hand drops from the door handle and he’s turning to face the knight again with wide eyes and lips parted as if to reply. only, he can’t find the words. for once - qrow branwen, travelling storyteller with a gift for magic - doesn’t know what to say. doesn’t have an anecdote to fall back on or a legendary tale to spout off without even thinking about it. no, he simply stares at ozma from across the room before tentatively nodding his head. 

          “i–yea–ok… ok,” voice is small as he crosses the room again, steps chosen carefully as qrow sits down besides the knight again, hand finding ozma’s own with a featherlight grip. “don’ go tellin’ anyone.. but i was kinda hopin’ you’d ask me ta stay…”

voice is soft but no less desperate. request spills from his lips all too quickly as qrow’s long legs help him make a swift exit. he always does this, always finds a way to convince himself to leave. it always saddens the knight to see him go, be it from a tavern or a room or a fire. ozma does not choose silence this time. instead, he chooses to ask for more.

only when qrow’s hand leaves the door’s handle does warmth swell in his chest. it shows in how his posture straightens when storyteller’s hand brushes against his. eyes are bright with joy that fills the rest of his smiling expression with light. for ozma, pure of heart, holds no ulterior motives in his request. he simply wishes for qrow’s presence.

“ i always hate to see you leave. “  other hand rests atop qrow’s, though his hold is much more sure than corvid’s.  “ i enjoy being with you. “  he looks away but the soft smile remains. perhaps he is being too forward. yet he must remind himself that qrow agreed to stay.  “ you have such a beautiful way with words. “

no, it is more than that. his very being draws ozma to him. the way such soft hues of pink sparkle when he performs. the way hands dance in the air as he conjures magic for his stories. the way his hand feels in his... 

@petalfought​ :  ► " i wanna hold the staff."

anonymous :  ► hold this for me. it's a cinnamon roll. that's what you are.

ozma stares at the pastry in his hands, tilting his head in confusion.  “ how am i a cinnamon roll? “

@brokenclockwork​ :  ► have a warm cup of tea and take a nap

ozma chuckles with a smile. he stands from his chair and moves to put the kettle on. fingers dance over the different tea leaves before choosing upon chamomile.   “ well, i think the world will hold for a little longer while i get some rest... “

@pandium​ :  the doctor,,kisses him,,