#promiseofspring

[ ARRANGED ] muses are in an arranged marriage and now have to consummate the union @promiseofspring

The day had been long, the ceremony stretching far longer than he’d anticipated, followed by endless congratulations and dances that carried them well into the early hours of the morning. Now, with the castle hushed at last, Lucien found himself standing before the heavy chamber doors, his stomach threatening unease.He knew his bride was somewhere within. His bride. The thought alone was enough to make his pulse stumble. Carefully, he slipped into the room, clearing his throat as if to announce his presence. He hadn’t been this nervous since his first battle at least then he’d known what to do with a blade in hand. Here, facing her, he felt disarmed.

@promiseofspring ⸻ ᥫ᭡.     ⊹₊♚₊⊹      » "I heard you refused three proposals this season. Are you waiting for someone?"

𝐄𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 : promiseofspring. “Don't be too impatient to put yourself in danger.”

𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌.  He had learned to be patient , any trace of the young man who itched to be the hero in something like this gone.  He couldn't be that boy any longer.  Not when he had an entire realm to think about.  She was right , this was not the time for impatience , and as much as he hated to say it , jumping to try and solve the conflict on his own would have been foolish.  Tristan had always been a man of action.  Never sending men where he would not go himself.  The transition to being King , meant he needed to make sure he was able to continue ruling when the next day came.  Or at the very least until his daughter could take the throne.

❝ You are hardly the first to remind me of that , good Lady. ❞  He offered a small polite smile , only to let out a sigh as he sat back in the chair that sat at the head of the council table.  This part was what he hated the most about being King , the part where he felt useless more than he felt restless.  ❝ It is not impatience , as it is the guilt I feel for not acting as well.  Staying here , while I send men out to fight for me out there. ❞

𝔭. ▐ ⊰ '  ❛  i don't need advice right now , just a friend to listen.  ❜ -- @promiseofspring

FANTASY SENTENCE STARTERS  ( MAGIC )

@promiseofspring : ❛  magic is everywhere.  can you feel it?  ❜

like a child she's crouched upon the dirty soil. and the spectator's features twitch into a grimace of incomprehension. one might speculate he could be jealous of that youthful joy, that gentleness, such freshness of life. but then, above masks and above layers, sarastro smiles. a half amused, half tired smile, as one might give a child that digs its chubby little hands into the dirt. bitterness will wrap its claws around her too, eventually.

“ hm, ” he hums, a warm and agreeing tone. high up in the sky the sun smiles down on them. sarastro squints, chewing on a thought upon his tongue. she isn't wrong. the earth and its green children are capable of wonders that most overlook. though they are still of less interest to him than the organisms that walk the paved roads. they live in their own, self - inflicted state of misery.

At first, Edmund thought he’d been stirred awake to the sound of what he presumed to be the gentle breeze rustling against the exterior of his tent walls— 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆. Proven with what looked to be the outline of a silhouette illuminated by the dull flicker of his lantern, paired with quiet footsteps moving further away. Who’d be awake at this hour..? Certainly not Lucy or Susan. The two 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐃 their so-called 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 too much— to which Edmund would jestingly claim they needed as much of that as they could get. And as for Peter? He’d been sent out by Aslan late last night to run some errands. He wasn’t due back for a good few hours.

Unable to shake off his curiosity, Edmund was swift in tugging on his boots, before making his way outside.. only to come face to face with Narnia’s newest occupant. 𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍. What was she doing sneaking around the camp this late at night? “Hey, where’re you going?” He wasn’t expecting her to answer so quickly, rather caught off guard by her reply of ‘I don’t want to overstay my welcome.’

Was it selfish of him in wanting to attempt to persuade her to stay? Edmund hadn’t known her for very long at all.. but he’d come to enjoy her company. She was 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 compared to everyone else here. “Oh don’t be daft. There’s a place for you here. I told you, everyone’s welcome at Aslan’s How.” Gesturing to the 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 campground, he then shifted his attention back to her, arms wrapping around his torso in hopes to fend off the nighttime chill. “Look, I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong anywhere.” He realised that look in her eyes— the same one he used to see whenever staring at his own reflection in the mirror: 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓. “Just.. sleep on it?”

          he doesn't even as the courage to face her. he cannot lift his crimson eyes from the blood staining his hands. a heavy breath escapes the god when her careful fingers begin to undo the buttons of his cloak. she moves with such patience, peeling cloth from cloth, as if unveiling something sacred rather than broken.

hades does not feel shame before her                  not even as each layer falls and more of his skin, more of his scars, are revealed. what unsettles him is not her gaze upon his body, but the truth that she has seen him at his worst. the blood that clings to him is not his own, and it drags forward the oath he once swore: never again to become a monster.