bleed, 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺.

            𝙶𝙸𝙻𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙸𝚂𝚃 𝙿𝙸𝙲𝙷𝙻𝙴𝚁  :  (  vrajiit  )   /  cis-man , he&him             𝚂𝙸𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚈 𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙱𝚄  :  (  normie  )   /  demi-woman , they&them             𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝙰 𝙶𝙷𝙸𝚃𝙰  :  (  normie  )   /  cis-woman, she&her             𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙸𝚁 𝙰𝙽𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚂𝙴  :  (  vrajiit  )   /  cis-man , he&him             𝙽𝙸𝙻𝙰𝙼  :  (  vrajiit  )  /  demi-woman , they&she

when  does  a  fairytale  ends?  when  you  start  to  live  it. because  life  is  not  made  of  dreams,  it’s  bricks  and  bricks  of  disappointment  layered  with  a  thin  cement  of  happiness. in  the  end,  of  course  they’d  come  tumbling  down. 

 a  sigh. nalini  closes closes  her  ledger  and  stands  up  from  where  she  is  seated  by  the  window  but  she  makes  no  move  towards  filomena. instead,  her  skirt  sweeps  the  floor  behind  it  as  she  turns  away  to  look  out  the  into  the  bleak  scenery  that  greets  her  beyond  the  glass.

 ‘what  of  the  kids  ?  are  they  not  breathing  ?  are  they  not  laughing  ?  are  they  not  sneaking  away  to  solicit  and  promenade  with  a  common  criminal  ?’  there’s  a  sharpness  in  her  voice. then,  turns  slowly  to  face  her  wife. voice  terse  and  eyes  cold. ‘i  think  they  are  alright,  my  dear.’

It was not Nalini who first planted the seeds of anger inside of Filomena. It had been The King, the man she vowed to protect, the man she had put on a pedestal, so blinded she was with her loyalty and gratefulness that she had excused his insanity over and over again. But the moment she had seen the pain in her children’s eyes, the spell was broken. And now she had stood there, prickly vines sprouted from that very same seed, entwining around her heart, drawing blood and drenching her in it, so that all that she could see were RED. 

‘How could you say that, Nal?’ she asked in disbelief, when she finally found her voice again.

The woman in front of her now more a stranger than anything. Certainly not the love that had taken her life up in a storm, that had made her give up everything, that had given her, for her once in a life, her home. ‘Do you not see how broken they look? They’re asking for help, Nal. Maybe not with their words, but surely you can hear them....if you’d just listen.’ 

‘my husband had it coming, i’m afraid. he’s very … fond of sweet and fatty things, just living life like an overfed duck waiting for death to come. you know what that’s like. you and tanguy … and all the other bastards hainne sires. i really can’t keep track of you!’ mocking  laughter  soon  turned  into  a  sharp  inhale  as  sorcha’s  lips  pressed  themselves  into  a  thin  line  at  the  mention  of  their  mama. it is a sting, sorcha had to admit, that moire with all her hatred for vrajiits, chose to favor gilchrist over her own children. trust a pichler to hit you where it hurts. ‘you think you’re so smart, don’t you, gil ?’ moves close to the blonde man whose features resemble his father so much, it makes sorcha wants to puke. ‘well, fly higher, little dove, for it will hurt harder when you finally fall from adi’s grace. oh, sorry, or is it the dragola’s grace that keeps you in your post ?’

he  had  liked  how  gilchrist  touched  him  since  the  moment  their  hands  brushed  against  each  other  .  confident  dark  blue  eyes  and  practiced  charm  a  craftsmanship  that  servaos  soon  found  himself  drowning  in  ,  and  all  too  voluntarily  .  the  rough  pads  of  his  fingertips  a   cooling  touch  to  his  skin  and  servaos  closed  his  eyes  and  yielded  himself  to  the  comfort  the  other  provided  .

‘  no  .  my  father  brings  out  the  worst  in  people  .  i  should  know  it  best  .  ’  there  was  a  chuckle  ,  short  and  sweet  .  servaos  didn’t  bother  opening  his  eyes  yet  his  hand  searched  for  gilchrist’s  ;  soft  ,  ghost - like  held  on  the  other  as  he  let  the  other’s  emotion  filled  him  fully  ,  the  color  of  mulled  wine  that  sent  him  into  an  indolent  and  mellow  spell  .

‘  he  won’t  .  he  doesn’t  listen  to  his  family  ,  why  would  he  listen  to  YOU  .  you  may  take  offense  in  it  ,  ‘  he  added  after  a  pause  ,  snapping  his  eyes  open  with  a  wicked  little  smile  that  soon  melted  into  love  ,  ‘  though  i  doubt  you  would  .  you  never  did  .  who  do  you  think  will  take  the  crown  when  he  died  ?  mina’s  guarded  .  she’s  not  honest  .  rulers  should  be  honest  ,  hm  ?  ’  there  was  no  thorns  in  his  voice  .  not  in  front  of  gilchrist  ,  who  knew  how  he  felt  about  his  sister  and  not  the  melodramatized  song  he  liked  to  sing  at  any  other  given  times  .  in  its  place  ,  a  hint  of  concern  bloomed in its place  before  it  turned  into  a  groan  .  the  young  man  turned  to  burry  his  head  into  the  pillows  .  ‘  WHY  are  we  even  talking  about  this  ?  the  bastard’s  alive  and  well  still  .  ’

Fingers tracing the exposed spanse of servaos's skin. Feather-light touches just barely connecting the two together, as there laid zero layers between them. No worn cottons or soft silks. Nothing. Dark blue eyes watched the expression on the prince's face as he drew constellations on his skin. Every flutters of his lashes and every sigh that escaped his lips as his hand traveled here and there, up and down,

'Here, let me show you how I'd love you.' Those touches said.

No words were ever needed between them. Yet they all came to an abrupt stop, as things always were with Gilchrist. He threw himself on the bed next to Servaos, head side by side looking up at the ceiling as if it had been the sky that stretched above them and they were kids, newly recruited to the vrajiit army, not knowing how to survive on their own and expected to k i l l  .

'Well, look at the difference between you and Mina,' Gilchrist offered with a smirk. The impishness of a boy and the wickedness of a rogue. 'Everyone certainly knows which of the royal twins I prefer.' And the whole army too. Everyone, everyone, who had come across Servaos out of the four falls of these castles would eventually, irrevocably, fell for his sincerity. The brusque honesty he carried himself with. Yet no lies, no lies. People could tell that, you know. They're not as dumb as the high and noble would like to think.

Idly, the hands intertwined together again. Never could they ever stay apart for too long. Gilchrist yearned Servaos's touches. His lips do not lie, but his words built a maze around him and he talks and talks but he says nothing at all. But his touches do not lie, and Servaos would drink his truth from this very skin. 'I'm not the kind be hurt from truths. Do not worry about me too much.' You're really too kind.

immediately , she is unsure of them . danya’s eyes drink the sight of someone so magnificent , though her face betrays nothing , none of the unease , none of the admiration . she is nothing if not a closed book , shut off and quiet in every sense of the words . “ i trained under the eyes of the gods and the malsovian streets , ” she replies , eyes narrowing . ah –– so they were aware of her position within the court , likely aware that she was hunting for her greatest currency which is secrets .  her attempt at gossip falls flat , and immediately danya is intrigued . secrets , after all , have their own small ways of revealing themselves , tricky little things that they are . and so she tilts her head , dark eyes appraising the impressive form before her . “ depends on the game . ”

It tickled them, the way The Spymaster replied to their question — people like them did not belong in this place, glittered with happiness. Joy never was as pretty a colour as scarlet. Even as they dressed themselves to fir the part, their nature slipped between cracks in how they talked, how they moved their body. And just like that, the spell was broken. 

When she spoke again, she made no attempt to hide their irritation, slipping freely from between painted lips, ‘People like you...talks and talks and never says anything.’ Then what’s the use of your tongue?

♥ - my muse tends to cling to

no one

☎ - my muse first contacts in a emergency

♥ - my muse tends to cling to

aleyna dragavei @remmbrance

? - always manages to confuse my muse

tanguy pichler @triumphends

☮ - makes my muse feel calm when around them