𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩.

there's a yip & mottle of fur that zooms past them at the question, thick fur accosting them both with the splash of dirty water & sand, an irritable furrow of brows thrown in the russian's direction. ❝ i'd say so, yeah, ❞ he mutters, wiping at the remnants that sprinkle across his nose, blending with the sunspots that rise. the sentiment of sasha's yearning after a mere forty minutes doesn't go unnoticed, yet he moves past with a nervous hum ( still getting the hang of accepting such sweet verbiage ) & letting their eyes meet. wolfram's plucking the joint & inhaling with a vigor only met by the intensity of sasha's everpresent want, knowing full & well that the heartbeat threatening to stampede through his chest makes his skin all the more hotter. the coast had done the older man good. really good. added a natural pink to his cheeks, a tanner tone to once porcelain flesh. ❝ you look . . . . nice," he states, as calmly & factual as he would anything else. thick fingers push loose curls behind his ear, languid in their movements. ❝ but it won't stay that way if you don't put on sunscreen, huh ? ❞ he reprimands, eyebrow lifted & leaning close. a lie, of course. he's sure the youngest lukin is a figure molded by something divine & everlasting, sculpted with the intention to be admired by the masses decades from now & beyond, when he himself is long gone. a press of lips against sasha's cheek, then the slope of his nose, & at the bone of his chin, syrupy smooth as he tilts his head up to blow a ring of smoke through his lips. ❝ havin' a good time ? ❞

𝐀   𝐒𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑   𝐎𝐅   𝐖𝐄𝐓   𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃   across   wolf's   freckled   face   has   sasha   hyena-cackling,   somehow   having   been   spared   from   the   onslaught   —   probably   because   wolf's   body   has   acted   as   a   shield,   but   nevermind   the   details   —   &   he   makes   quick   work   of   helping   to   wipe   away   the   mess   of   it.   it's   not   long   before   he's   swiping   the   pad   of   his   thumb   over   the   arch   of   the   younger's   brow   for   no   reason   other   than   to   touch   him,   a   fond   smile   pulling   at   plush   lips   as   he's   complimented   —   preening   like   a   cat   that's   been   petted   down   the   length   of   its   back,   a   flattered   flush   creeping   up   his   bare   chest  &   arriving   swiftly   at   the   apples   of   his   cheeks   a   moment   later.   the   same   comment   would   have   him   sneering   at   anybody   else   —   but   from   his   love,   it's   a   shot   of   pure   dopamine   straight   to   the   brain.   an   addiction,   through-and-through.   they've   been   this   way   for   some   years   now,   &   it   never   gets   old;   feeling   like   he's   won   every   time   wolf   looks   at   him   like   that.   like   he's   the   bane   of   his   existence   &   the   center   of   his   universe,   all   at   once,   wrapped   neatly   into   one   five-foot-ten   frame.    “   i   did   put   on   sunscreen,   ”    he   insists,   stubborn   as   usual,   one   delicate   hand   skating   its   way   up   the   plane   of   wolf's   bare   stomach,   broad   chest,   over   the   peak   of   wide   shoulders.   so   much   skin   laid   out   before   him,   &   he's   sure   it's   obvious,   the   way   his   gaze   grows   hungry   at   the   sight   of   it.   he's   never   been   subtle,   but   the   weed   makes   him   completely   indecent   about   it   —   leaning   forward   to   press   an   open-mouthed   kiss   to   the   jut   of   wolf's   collarbone,   making   his leisurely   way   towards   the   curve   of   his   neck.    “   when   we   got   here.   i'll   be   fine.   ”    nevermind   the   fact   that   it's   been   hours,   &   he's   growing   pinker   by   the   second;   a   sunburn   is   the   least   of   his   concerns   as   of   ten   seconds   ago.   a   contented   sound   as   he   feels   the   press   of   lips   to   his   cheekbone,   nose,   &   chin   —   a   match,   kindling &   gasoline,   fueling   him   to   curl   lithe   arms   around   his   lover's   neck,   pulling   him   in   &   down   as   he   flattens   onto   his   back   once   more.    “   the   best,   ”    he   purrs,   nuzzling   his   nose   against   wolf's,   eyes   drooping   in   delight   as   he   draws   in   the   delivered   smoke   like   it's   an   instinct   he   was   born   with.   exhales   it   off   to   the   side,   but   wastes   no   time   in   continuing   to   brush   their   lips   together,   like   breathing   wolf's   air   is   the   one   &   only   objective   he   has   in   life   (   which,   to   be   fair,   isn't   far   off   from   the   truth   ).    “   remind   me   to   thank   your   parents   when   we   go   back   in,   yeah   ?   ”    a   lazy   kiss   stolen   off   wolf's   lips,   then,   arms   tightening   python-like,   pulling,   trying   his   damndest   to   get   the   younger   closer,   hell   —   on   top   of   him   if   it's   necessary.       “   not   now,   though.   later.   ”    if   it   wasn't   clear   enough   by   the   way   he   lets   one   hand   roam   up   into   the   fluffy   hair   at   the   back   of   wolf's   head,   anchoring   itself   there   &   tugging,   while   the   other   begins   a   meandering   journey   southwards,  starting   with   his   chest.

❝ we don't need to talk about it. ❞ gaze unwavering as his jaw clenches. however, the burling creature being what it's meant to be — an animal, feral in nature, unpredictable — is turning against him, black leathery lips pulling back in a vicious snarl. threatening every whim to put a stop to this conversation. it's striking at him with thick formidable claws, digging deep into the cavern of his chest. ❝ what happened is the last thing on my mind right now. you are the last thing on my mind. we have bigger fucking worries sasha. ❞ its incisors are sinking in & he's ready to bite back with a fearful fury. there's a certain nausea that comes with the effort of refusing to give in to the pain, one that stomps on his heart like an irritable insect. ❝ what happened was a mistake. ❞ oh, but it had been the opposite. entirely so. an act of desire, quiet yearning from the two that had acted out in timely fate. ready & willing to occur within a moments notice. a moment in the way the older man smiled with every flat joke that left the prince's lips, every slight of hand instinctively brushing against his own & leaving a trail of flames, every quickwitted response to the montone remarks that usually had others moving off for a more entertaining conversation — a win in wolfram's mind. what he'd always aimed for each time they'd tried to strike something. a yip from blini at a too - rough scratch behind her ear causes him to snatch his hand away, eyes returning to her apologetically despite her breezing past it with a cold snout to the knee. a metaphor almost, as he elicits a strong response from both handler & pet, though he refuses to return attention back to the former.

“   you   want   to   know   what   i   think   ?   ”    an   obviously   rhetorical   question,   just   above   a   whisper   —   the   only   evidence   of   the   frustration   roiling   below   his   diaphragm   in   the   slight   curl   of   his   lip.   he   leans   in,   slowly,   planting   a   hand   on   the   mattress   to   support   his   weight   as   he   shifts   out   of   his   chair.   closer,   closer   —   until   he's   inches   from   wolf's   face,   until   he   can   feel   the   angry   heat   radiating   off   of   him,   &   he   might   be   sick   in   the   head,   because   the   only   thing   he   can   think   about   it   how   he   wants   to   bask   in   it.   his   eyes   flick   carefully   between   wolfram's,   letting   him   steep   in   the   silence,   watching   him   shiver.    “   i   think   that   you're   a   filthy.   .   .   fucking   .   .   .   liar.   ”    stated   in   his   usual   soft,   lilting   voice,   the   same   he's   used   so   many   times   before   while   sharing   some   useless   fact   that   had   sprung   to   the   forefront   of   his   mind.   &   despite   his   signature   nonchalance,   his   stomach   churns,   knowing   what   chaos   he's   choosing   to   sow   —   a   nausea   brought   on   by   unchecked,   all-consuming   compulsion.    “   you   can't   stop   thinking   about   it.   it's   the   only   thing   you   think   about.   &   you   pretend   it   means   nothing   to   you.   but   it's   eating   you   alive.   isn't   it   ?   ”    another   tilt   of   his   head,   gaze   trailing   absently   down   to   the   curve   of   wolfram's   lips,   the   rapid-fire   thrumming   of   his   jugular   vein.   sasha   knows   what   he's   doing   —   sticking   his   hand   between   the   bared   teeth   of   a   furious   beast,   far   beyond   praying   it   won't   bite.   at   this   point,   he's   simply   hoping   his   blood   will  stain.    “   and   that's   fine,   wolf.   you   can   lie.   god   knows   i'm   a   liar,   too.   ”    sasha's   gaze   flickers   back   up   to   meet   the   prince's   rageful   stare,   his   own   half-lidded   in   something   like   acceptance.   his   fingers   curl   into   the   silken   sheets,   his   free   hand   moving   to   steady   himself   against   the   headboard   above   wolfram's   head,   caging   him   in.   this   is   the   end,   he   thinks   —   of   what,   he's   not   sure,   but   he   knows,   from   all   the   times   he's   ruined   things   before   &   all   the   times   he'll   ruin   things   after   now,   that   he's   not   getting   out   of   this   unscathed.    “   you   can   be   a   liar.   but   i   know   you.   &   you're   not   a   fucking   coward.   ”    

open starter ›› @francehqstarters where: somewhere outside.

Diana sighed as she finally came up to him, her arms went to wrap around his torso as she hugged him tightly. It felt like a relief, finally being able to hold him in her arms, to touch him and to see with her own eyes, that he was unharmed. "I know, I'm sorry." She said as she pulled away, looking up at him. Diana leaned into his touch, shaking her head slightly. "You don't have to apologize, it wasn't your fault." She paused. "I just felt useless on the outside, not knowing what was happening, if you were alright. It was the worst feeling I ever felt."

yuichi smiles down at her ruefully, letting out a soft sound as he listens. it's a difficult thing for him — empathy. he never learned how to show it, & practicing it with her feels ... strange, considering how easily it seems to come to her. but she's the only person who's ever made him want to. " i was terrified, " he admits after a moment, eyebrows furrowing as he lifts a hand to gently graze against her cheekbone. " not of the situation. i was certain from the moment we were trapped that it would resolve itself. i was just ... " he sighs, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. " i was afraid of what you might've been going through. we didn't know what was going on outside. i ... couldn't help but worry they had gotten to you, too. " he pulls away, then, looking down at her. " but we're safe, yeah? both of us. aren't we lucky? "

The pendulum between peace and resentment swing back-and-forth, as it always has between the good King and his terrible brother. Yet Gabriel finds comfort in it. This evolving chasm between them is part and parcel with becoming a formal De La Rosa once more. His expression of mirth is undeterred, even as Diego threatens to waver. Gabriel knows that the right anecdote would pull him back in, and he's proven right with the merry tale of their younger years. Laughing heartily, his shoulders shake. This, in truth, is not performative. Diego describes better days, when they had more in common than they had apart. "It's not as if he served us anything of renowned! It was table wine. The French only serve that swill to servants - and pirates." And though the De La Rosa's endear themselves to the everyday person, no one can mistake the gold that propped them up into power. Eventually, the French would need to cow tow to the new world order. What is lineage to wealth? Unfortunately, Diego seems more than willing to partake. News of Maria's betrothal earn a look of surprise, that's masked with quick familial endearment. If Diego only knew what Gabriel did of his daughter, then his concern would stretch beyond her Austrian entanglement. "Is that code, brother? Have you already forgotten how us pirates talk?" A coded look upon his face - don't forget from whence you came. "If he's trouble, say the word. I can do what needs to be done." He answers back with a wink, almost in jest... Though they both know the things Gabriel is capable of. "It's only marriage." Gabriel shrugs, mindlessly moving Diego's item on the desk. "What's it signify?"

" having been served wine of poor quality does not mean we are allowed to simply leave without fair payment, " diego notes in only half-hearted irritation, the slight smile still present on his face betraying him. yes — this, oddly enough, is the thing he'd missed about his brother most; their never-ending bickering spells that somehow dissolved into reminiscing about the highs, the peaks. a snort leaves him when gabriel questions the intention behind the news of maria's betrothals — he shoots him a sideways, admonishing glare. " don't get any idiotic ideas, " he warns with a rueful chuckle, shaking his head & willfully choosing to ignore the look gabriel sends his way. a knowing sort of look — a silent reminder of where he'd come from, & the history he can't quite seem to escape. in avoiding his brother's gaze, he looks down at the object he'd picked up off of his desk. a dagger, oddly enough — still sheathed. he sets it down again, eyebrows furrowing, looking mildly uncomfortable with the ironic timing. " he seems fine. courteous enough. maria has yet to complain. it was her idea, actually. " he squints at gabriel's hands as they begin to fuss with the other objects on his desk, reaching over to shoo him off as if he's some kind of crow picking away at a carcass. it's not an unfit analogy, he supposes. " the beginning of a relationship, " he answers simply, turning to lean his hips back against the edge of his desk. " in the most literal sense, but also between our nations. we needed a strong alliance in the west. " he looks down at the carpet below his feet, eyebrows furrowing as a quiet huff of a laugh leaves him. " goodness. i sound like father, don't i? "

othello lets out a warm chuckle at the suggestion that he is not the only new monarch who feels out of place — if it's true, they have an awfully odd way of showing it. otto feels so terribly obvious in every cabinet meeting, glancing from side to side to find out if he should agree or disagree. " oxford? i hadn't known you attended there. a real genius on our hands, hm? " the smile on his face is playful, teasing — not unlike their younger selves, chasing each other through the ambrozy estate with wet paintbrushes & trying their damndest to ruin the other's shirt. a look of joyful realization flashes across otto's face, a laugh escaping him as his mind floods with a memory. " you nearly passed out because you locked your knees, " he says through his laughter, lifting a hand to cover his mouth. he wonders, briefly, if the appearance of his smile — one of his best qualities, if he does say so himself — is tainted by the healing injury to his face; it's only just stopped being painful to emote, & while he's never been insecure about his appearance in the past, he's become familiar with the constant awareness that comes with the dark mark now ruddying his jaw & chin. " i told you so many times you could just sit, but you were determined to stand the whole entire time. " otto shakes his head with a fond grin, leaning forward to land a painless, playful whack to lassie's knee. " would you sit for me again — for a portrait? if i asked you to? "

at the instruction, aleksei's gaze immediately shifts to the small sideboard housing quite the collection of liquor, & he obediently moves to begin fixing them a pair of drinks, listening all the while. he does his best to hide the way his eyes drift absentmindedly to isaak, watching him in side-profile, before flicking down to focus on the task at hand ( only to drift upward again not even a moment later ). " i like it. it feels ... like a home, " aleksei comments softly, offering a shy smile. he pours himself a modest glass of red wine & nearly spills it, considering he's too busy watching the other man untuck his shirt, mesmerized by the v-shaped sliver of skin that appears as a few buttons come undone. " of course, " he responds, perhaps a bit breathlessly, in their native tongue, as he fixes a glass of a taste of their home — vodka, evidently one that isaak must have brought with him from russia. aleksei hesitates briefly before downing a quick, secretive shot of the same vodka, deciding that perhaps a bit of liquid courage couldn't hurt him — especially once he's invited to ... share isaak's seat. he swallows thickly as he takes his wine glass in one hand & the vodka glass in the other, moving molasses-slow in the space between them, approaching with a mix of both caution & anticipation. he's ... unsure, of what's happening here. but for once, he wants to find out. " i'd like to, " aleksei murmurs, gaze locking with isaak's as he goes to hand the other the vodka glass, folding one of his legs under him as he goes to sit beside him — their legs touching, their bodies ... far too close to be only friendly. he takes a slow sip of his wine, & it leaves his lips stained slightly burgundy as he sets the glass aside, shifting closer in one slow, fluid movement. " isaak... " his name leaves his lips on an exhale, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. liquid courage. he lifts a hand, suppressing the way it trembles as he moves to gently caress isaak's jaw, the pad of his thumb stroking carefully over his dimpled chin. " i ... are you ... are we ... — " he starts & stops, gaze falling from the other man's eyes to his lips.

with the glare benny just raised his shoulders in a slight shrug. ❝ what ? am i wrong ? ❞ he grumbled only partially under his breath, as he made his way over to santiago fully. ❝ fine. i'll live, ❞ he answered, very much wanting to push any sort of attention off of himself. he shouldn't have gotten hurt, he considered it a failure, just as he failed to protect others on the search.

@rcsplendent | Late Evening, Yuichi and Midori at the Yamoto Apartments

in all honesty, yuichi had known from a combination of his sister's mood & his interaction with the chinese prince that ... something was off between them. what, exactly, he's not sure — nor does he intend to care. but intentions so rarely align with reality for yuichi these days, & he finds himself leaning his shoulder against the doorway that leads to the balcony, a concerned little furrow to his brow as he waits for his sister to notice him. it doesn't take long, & his head tilts, meeting her smile with a half-amused one of his own.

closed for @rcsplendent -> ophelia.

ophelia had heard of a shop in a nearby village that offered the loveliest of imported persian silks, & with the queen's permission, had gone to purchase a bolt or two. the trip had been delightful, & she carries her bounty with her in a handmade tote. she'd timed it well, or so she thought — she'd intended to make the journey back to versailles during sunset to enjoy golden hour, but a gloom had casted itself through the sky, making everything dark & grey. for that reason, she finds herself a bit on-edge as she walks briskly along the path — so much so that she jumps at the sound of a man's voice, turning to face him with a quiet yelp. however, she quickly dissolves into laughter. " goodness! you startled me, " she beams at him, eyebrows furrowing as her gaze flicks to the gold in his palm. a look of realization washes over her face, & she quickly inspects the bottom of her bag — sure enough, it's torn, & her loose change had indeed been pouring out of it unknowingly. " oh — ! god — how awfully ironic. i'm a seamstress — how embarrassing of me, " she flushes, laughing nervously as she chances a glance at the man's face. he's ——— terribly handsome. devastatingly so. she's not proud to be acting like a schoolgirl about it, but, well. it's been a while, is all. " i — oh, is that true? i've never come this way before... " she looks down the path, fingers resting delicately against her lips, eyebrows furrowing in worry. she looks back at him, cheeks reddening. " would you? that would be so lovely of you. you keep those — " she reaches for his hand unthinkingly, folding his fingers back over the coins in his palm. " — as a thank-you. well — not that i mean to imply you look as if you need it. " she smiles sheepishly, already horribly embarrassed by her own rambling. " you're, um... " she pulls her hand away, realizing belatedly that her hand is still lingering against his, & tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. " you're a prince of china, yes? i — i think i've heard of you. "

@francehqstarters / defne + open location: the windsor drawing room

amin followed along with laurie's signs, nodding to show that he was listening. but they never got to really add anything back, laurie signing so animatedly and feverishly that they just waited until they were both finally standing still. amin walked over, putting their hands on both of laurie's shoulders and looking down at them. they leaned in to press a kiss to the top of their head, a soft ❝ baby, ❞ slipping from his lips. he pulled one hand away to reply to laurie, the other snaking around their waist. ❝ i am so sorry that happened to you. ❞

laurie's frustrated expression shifts into something sad when amin moves closer to them, tilting their head up instinctively to meet him halfway in the gentle kiss to the top of his head. he frowns, ready to be entirely adamant that he's not that upset about this, but the slight glassiness to his eyes betrays him.  " it just wasn't fair, "  he signs, before leaning heavily into their fiancé's embrace & letting out a quiet, forlorn sound, resting his head underneath amin's chin. he stays there for a moment, reveling in the comfort of simply holding & being held by his other half, before pulling away slightly to sign up at them.  " i haven't been treated like that since i was a child. "  he frowns, shaking his head as he goes to start unfolding the picnic blanket, waving his hand in an attempt to dismiss his own complaining, speaking aloud:  " & now i'm in an awful mood. i'm sorry — i don't want to ruin our picnic... "  

romeo's eyebrows draw further in at the prospect of valentina looking for him after he'd returned. in all honesty, he's not entirely sure where he stands with his sister at the moment — not that it's entirely val's fault, considering that he's been avoiding her like the plague ever since he'd revealed his ... past financial missteps to her. his jaw ticks when it tightens in response to luciana's reasoning, & he lets out a slow breath through his nose, realizing that like sand sifting through his fingers, he's losing control of his own narrative. it would be awful of him to blame this all on valentina, & it's not like he even wants to do that. a younger version of himself might have, but now, the guilt would eat away at him far more than it already does — & god knows another ounce of shame would surely break him. " darling, " he says, quietly, absently — nearly before she's finished speaking herself. his eyes slip shut for a moment, before drifting open again, looking off to the side. is really going to do this? he's going to say it, isn't he? " i've ... got to tell you something. it's related to ... my sister's — um. contempt for me at the moment. " he looks over at her, finally, expression pulling into one of worry. it's then that he notices his heart begin to pound in his chest, his hands tingling as the anxiety rising behind his sternum threatens to boil over. he's ... not sure he could bear it, if this changed her opinion of him. but he also can't bear the weight of keeping it from her any longer. " it's got nothing to do with you, or — or us. i just ... it's something i've ... done. something i did, that i have to ... fix. & she's upset with me for it. "