#verumking

[tidalcove]

"What if they kissed?" → saga !

a meme that i'm too lazy to link // not accepting.

saga resists fiddling with the skull charm on her bracelet, opting to take a sip from the mug of coffee she held delicately in her hands instead. her companion ( or was he her friend? lover? saga aggressively marks out the last word when it manifests on a notepad beside his image on her case board ) joins her, quietly savoring the flavor of the black coffee she had made for him. his nose immediately scrunches up slightly in disapproval once he tastes the cube of sugar she had snuck in and the agent can't help but smile softly at that. the smile is followed by a laugh, the sound warm and melodic, as the suit jacket he had draped around her bare shoulders threatens to slip off due to her laughter. it's moments like these in particular that makes him remind her of casey: classically brooding and sarcastic, disliker of anything too sweet.

well, except when it comes to her.

❛ we...can't keep doing this. ’ saga finally whispers quietly, the laughter fading as her lips dip down into a frown and her grip on the coffee mug tightens. she can hear the faint but frantic sound of a typewriter in the distance; a sign that the writer was writing again. another reminder that her time here was soon rapidly coming to a close once again. ❛ i can't keep getting distracted here. my daughter needs me. ’ i need to solve this case - save my family. saga thinks. even it means going back to the mundane.

silence continues to sit between the odd pair before the king of this otherworldly place decides to grace her with a response, ❛ we're just having a drink together. ’ a simple shrug of his shoulders follows his flat reply before he continued sipping his coffee; it made saga grateful that her curls were down loose and down for once, allowing them to partially hide the frustrated side glare she was giving him.

❛ you know what i mean. i don't belong here... at least not yet. ’ saga quickly adds the last sentence when she hears him quickly scoff at her words. ❛ i'm not dead! i'm just...visiting. this entire thing is just the story trying to distract me from saving logan.’ yozora doesn't say anything while saga nods her own head in affirmation, almost as if the deed made her words true. no, she wasn't dead - and neither was her daughter. this isn't how the story goes. that had been the writer's words - alan's words - that she's desperately latched onto since she first heard them; silently repeating them to herself like a mantra each and every time she died.

the first time happened after the very murder victim that had brought her to bright falls, federal agent nightingale, rose from the dead right before all of their eyes. a man with no heart was up just like that - her inspection in the morgue interrupted as his pale, bloated fingers dug into her throat and slowly crushed her to death despite how hard she fought to grab her gun. all saga could remember was the faint sounds of casey screaming followed by gun shots. there was also the sound of...ocean waves? she could've sworn she heard them ( inside the mind place, she mentally makes a note of the memory inside the case file dedicated to her series of deaths ).

as everything faded to darkness and she eventually awoke, alone here in this city before alan's typing sharply stopped. then she was back in the morgue, safe in the light with her gun in hand as nightingale prowled in the darkness for her. she had followed the writer's guidance via the manuscripts left behind and defeated nightingale - but saga still found herself meeting death once more. the next time was due to hatchet to the back, the agent had been too slow to dodge an incoming taken's attack. emptiness was followed by darkness, the waves of a beach crashing against her the more her life faded away. then the air rushed back in, filling her lungs again before she awakes and is greeted by death in the form of a man.

saga's died ten times since then. twelve times in total now. he's been there every time to greet her. she's never been a very superstitious woman; saga thanks her mom for that. she's mostly lived her life by following her own logic and intuition - but saga's also not a fool. after everything she's seen and learned? she couldn't take any chances. there couldn't be a thirteen meeting between them. ❛ i have to get back and make wake to fix this mess. there are too many people counting on me: my daughter. casey. hell, even grandpa and my grand uncle. and there's david too. ’ saga inhales sharply at the mention of david, her eyes closing as she retreats into her mind ( it's always david. never 'my husband'. what does that say saga? ).

brown, doe eyes look around the latest version of her mind place: a once cozy washington lodge replaced with a dark but lavish skyrise apartment, the bright neon lights of the cityscape illuminating her workspace. it had been a 'gift' from yozora as his guest, although saga secretly made a deliberate effort to not get too comfortable here. still, the familiar items of her life, from representations of loved ones to her own cherished experiences, decorated the room. her last letter from mom, shot glasses from drinking with casey, unfinished knitted blankets for logan...

slowly, she turns around the room with a frown. there was nothing of david here - not a wedding photo. no gifts from him. nothing to celebrate their relationship - their history. she had nothing from her husband here. a silver glint on her nightstand catches saga's eyes and she stares at the charm bracelet logan had made her right before this trip. a skull charm held in the middle stares straight back at her.

she didn't have anything of value representing her husband but a gift from another man she barely knew manifested here - in her mind place. it meant it was important to her. that he was important to her now.

many of the unusual charms she found around watery and bright falls sat around it, their use still unknown to her but she felt compelled to wear them anyway. they felt...safe. helpful. yozora had even asked her about them once, quirking an eyebrow at the various coffee mug charms that littered around her wrist. when she didn't have an answer, he simply slid a new one on, a skull, and never brought it up again even when asked. she had profiled him in her mind place for answers but even probing his mind for answers only had her hitting walls. he was carefully guarded and besides, he would only tell her what she already knew deep down even if she did manage to breakthrough.

❛ saga. ’ her eyes flicker open at the sound of her name and saga isn't sure if the shudder that runs down her spine is from nerves or the way her name sounds on his lips. reluctantly, she turns slightly to better observe him - only for his eyes not to be on her face anyway. his cold gaze eyed the silver band around her ring finger with an unreadable expression before reaching up to softly grip her chin to make her face him directly.

❛ if it makes you feel any more better, death is inevitable. you'll return here one day regardless. ’ before she has a chance to respond, to ask what exactly he means, his lips on hers and she's pleasantly surprised by their warmth - a sure sign that she was probably taking the whole god of death thing a bit too literally. his hand, gentle but desperate, slide into her hair and she moans into his mouth at the touch. she wants more, so, so much more - hungry to taste the forbidden fruit that is his entire being. her neck instinctively arches back as his mouth trails down her neck and her hands grip his own, tugging at the hair that falls along his neck and back-

and then the typing finally stops. the writer is done and before saga can realize what's happening, she's gone again - pulled backed into reality, right where the story needs her to be. she's standing almost knee-deep in cauldron lake's rising, dark waters with a dead body, a former taken, floating a few feet away from her. she's annoyingly wet but alive.

with a shaky, unsteady hand, saga pulls out her walkie talkie to radio casey. she hasn't heard from him since she left watery but she's desperate and needs someone to talk to. ' hey casey? ' nothing but static from the other end of the line. ' they say you can't cheat death but...can you cheat with death? ' a hysterical laugh breaks through the forest following her own shitty joke, scattering birds from trees as sobbing follows soon after.

[sanguinesocierie]

send ♡ to see what my muse thinks of yours. @verumking.

●●●●● | ATTRACTION

●●●○○ | AFFECTION

●●●●● | INTEREST

○○○○○ | LOYALTY

●●○○○ | TRUST

fina thinks yozora is incredibly handsome & a fascinating subject to her. as a witch of mostly unknown origin ( at least, in association to verum verse ) ... her ability to absorb the feelings of despair in the blood, has her curious about his story. being a sort of outside observer to events that transpire in his world, she just wants to see where he goes & what his end goal is.

[royalight]

send in " what makes you think they're alone? " for the sender to unexpectedly show up and rescue the receiver from being attacked by an enemy } accepting.

@verumking asked: " what makes you think they're alone? "

She   didn't   recognize   the   men   that   crept   forth   like   wolves   from   the   shadows,   their   sadistic   smiles   were   more   suited   for   the   faces   of   fiends   rather   than   humans.        

--   Making   it   oh   so   clear   that   she   was   their   desired   prey. 

        "W-What   do   you   want   with   me?"    she   snapped,    trembling   fingers   immediately   reached   for   the   hilt   of   her   rapier.       Despite   still   being   a   novice   Sarah   intended   to   fight   with   all   she   had.     

Unfortunately,    even   with   that   determination   the   odds   weren't   in   her   favor.       Five    towering   men   against   her?            It   would   be   challenging   to   defend   herself   from   ALL   of   them.     

As   they   surrounded    the   Princess,   her   tough   facade    began   to   crumble,   revealing   a   frightened   woman.        "S-Stay   away   from   me!"     

And   then,   right   before   one   attempted   to   grab   her   ....    a   shadowed   figure   jumped   out.         

Due   to   being   disoriented   she   didn't   realize   who   it   was   at   first.       Initially   fearing   yet   another   threat   had   come   her   way,   yet   when   the   man   attacked   her   assailants   his   identity   became   apparent.         

"Yozora???    How   did   you   -....."    His   abrupt   appearance   and   obvious   skill   at   combat   seemed   like   enough   to   scare   off   the   group.       They   shouted   and   cursed   but   still   fled   the   scene,   causing   a   relieved   sigh   to   part   from   rose-tinted   lips.     

"I.......   didn't   expect   yo   see   you   again,    especially   in   a   situation   like...   this   ...    t-thank   you."        then   brows   furrowed    and   head   canted   to   the   side.        

"Were   you    ....       just   passing   by    ...    or   perhaps,    were   watching   me?"

[liightsought]

❛ i don't care if someone sees us. i need you, now. ❜

"What's stopping you..?" So he would have her right then && there. Her smile && hushed, velvet ploy are something of a precursor as she knows what's to come. The sly smile, coyness abundant, is her tongue caught between her teeth. Rain pounds against the outside of the car that they've since found refuge midst backseat. He hovers over her, fumbles with a dozen buttons; close quarters gives hardly any leeway in ease of access. && perhaps it's reason enough that he hardly waits any longer. He's discarded shorts, boots, but this game of seeking out the prize beneath her clothing tests his patience. Wherefore index && middle digits suddenly hook at the tiny bit of lace that obscures the view of what he so desperately wants to have && simply shifts it askew. He himself is only a picture of disheveled clothing. Her bare thighs are propped against his hips as he frees his length with a swift drop of waistline via hooked thumb. She watches him carefully, eyes focused between the plushness of her thighs && flitting up toward the intensity of his gaze. Her teeth that catch at her bottom lip as if seeing that length could ever be anything short of a treat in && of itself. But this is to say that her hands absentmindedly shove aside the articles of clothing on his chest. A soft mewl resonates from within her throat as his hand begins to line himself up with the entrance of an all too needy, dewy crescent. But whatever words might be intended to coax him within falls to naught when he sheathes himself within her. His low breath && her shrill gasp, paired with the way her crown falls in reverse against the interior of the car door she's nearest. Never mind the soft thud---she hardly cares. "O-oh, fuck.." Hushed, lusted; lashes aflutter && lips falling agape before freeing another soft mewl when he slips out. But the yelp that comes when he snaps his hips back into hers is something not short of delicious. Her hands rise suddenly to grasp at the broadness in his shoulders && her eyes find his own. A silver crown lowers to conform his forehead to her own all the while that he pistons his hips into hers && she is at his mercy. Whimpers && whines that shift into uninhibited moans from the angle they've achieved in such a tight space, a specific spot absolutely ravaged with each heft of thrust. Muffled only when his lips capture her own && he swallows each sound across his tongue. Eva's face is flush with the building sensation that spreads like a wildfire beneath her skin. Nails dig into his shoulders through the thin shirt beneath coat && the sound of fabric straining, then ripping, simultaneously joins the moment her toes curl. Fighting off the desire to release far too soon. Far too focused on the drag of veiny length throughout cushiony walls so tight she sees stars at the apex of each thrust. Moaning sweet somethings into his mouth. What a compliment, for his majesty.

[liightbringr]

𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝.

@verumking asked: The king of truth had grown weary of the spotlight that came with his monarchial and deific status. He did not seek an audience to witness his every declaration, nor did he long for the universe to observe his every breath. Thus did death incarnate invite the maiden of light to a desolate island: palm trees and distant birdsong being their sole company. Yozora pressed his forehead against Eva's, heterochromatic eyes lidded before whispering a confession against her parted lips: "Marry me."

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄, but it isn't what she sees around them. It isn't the cresting waves of a coming tide, or the swaying of palm trees that seemingly dance in the setting sun; she finds paradise to be a construct well known by his side. She's come to know that wherever he goes, she will follow. She's come to know that wherever she goes, he will follow. There is never one without the other when the pair is brought into regard. Never a line that draws them askew or circumstances that could keep them apart for long. Their existence is an inevitable thing. && so it should come as no surprise that her heart yields to the way he looks at her. They are one in the same---even if they've only just realized it. Marching on toward the same goal. So she follows him. She allows him to guide her bare feet through sand && feel the salty breeze brush through her hair. Wholly content to exist in this type of peace with him without a single word uttered. A feat in && of itself, for her brightness can be rambunctious at oft times. Perhaps there's something to be noted about the comfort && security she feels around him. The ability to be one's true self is a blessing, surely. But the silence is far more fitting once his skin conforms to her own. Lithe digits that interlace with his own like lock && key, the tip of her nose gingerly nudging against his own. But... nothing could've possibly prepared her for the words to follow his tenderness. More a breath against her lips where the ghost of a kiss still lingers. Where her eyes suddenly dart to his own, searching desperately for a punchline for fear she may be dreaming. But she has come to know in her time with him that his words are sincere. He is always genuine with her. He smiles around her. He loves her. && so a stumble of a breath cycles through her lungs. Closeness draws her nearer to press into his chest whilst her eyes never leave his own. He spoke it as a plea, not a question; a demand, not a request. && yet Eva has, for some time, considered herself his && his alone. None could steal her away, none could persuade her to betray the way her heart sings when near him. But words could hardly do this moment any justice. There are quips that could be made, snarky little remarks that might lighten the air, but the seriousness of a life-changing decision deserves better. && so her hands rise with purpose. Delicate palms smooth against the canvas of his jawline before interlacing at the nape of his neck, paired with the way she coaxes him into a kiss with all that she has. Drinking deep that desire for eternity. Letting this kiss be her answer: Please.

[prideofcornelia]

@verumking : without even looking. "that's wine." doesn't do anything to stop her because "she isn't his problem" 😭

❝ OHHHH... ❞ she hands it to him instead. ❝you need this more than me!❞

[rosaguard]

aeris and yozora + tropes ( insp ).

[deathleadsarc]

@verumking | s.c.

―  🜛  ―   " Quite the spectacle is it not? "    a voice to cry out from the darkness, stepping forward into the ruin as if strolling through a springs gentle petal shower, her arms outstretched. Her head thrown back, she breathed deeply the scents of battle and victory.   " You as well! You've done marvelous! I don't think I've seen such a feat against the heartless since that of mine own! Do tell, do telllllll  ―   for what purpose do you draw your weapon? "

[stellaceria]

“Do I…know you?”

♛ ✧･ﾟ:*Masquerade Ball Starters | not accepting

☆  ▌┊ ❛ 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐒 as the cold, damp asphalt beneath her body rouses her from dormancy. The crisp night air against her skin coupled with her fluctuating consciousness was enough to make her believe she was at the mercy of death’s sweet release, yet the dull pain in her head did plenty to dispel such notions. An experience I know all too well, she darkly muses, for the goddess of the dead spares star incarnate from her domain once more.

Stella Nox Fleuret waits for her headache to subside as she slowly finds her bearings in the new world she had woken up to. As she looks up to take in her surroundings, her eyes are greeted with a scene that leaves her dazed and confused : the neon lights, the towering skyscrapers, and the looming shadow of what appears to be the Citadel from a distance away were all sights she recognizes. Sights that are forever burned into her memory. 

Is this place not Quadratum, she wonders. Had the ( nameless star ) sent her back home to Insomnia by mistake or had she been led astray? 

Despite the familiar scenery before her, Stella could not shake away the uncomfortable feeling that something was oddly different about this world—something that made her feel as if she simply did not belong. Before she could delve into the matter further, a voice from the shadows interrupts her train of thought and breaks the unnerving silence of the slumbering city.

And so, the night unveils its secrets to her ; the ghostly luminescence of the moon reveals a young man of shimmering silver hair and eyes a unique shade of crimson and azure. He was beautiful, she thought at first glance—so hauntingly beautiful that she could not help but be reminded of him.  

It is unclear however whether the mysterious @verumking was friend or foe, but he showed no hostility as he made his innocent query, and so she responds by letting down her guard momentarily in return.

“ —— I don’t believe we have met before. ” Stella answers truthfully, wondering if perchance he had mistaken her appearance for another under the bleak, starless sky. “ And you are…? ”

[kukyc]

Unprompted: Always Accepting verumking: Indeed, the stranger stood before Yozora had the same stature and countenance of his quarry, yet the king of truth was not easily convinced. The realm of fiction was full of peculiarities, but facsimiles were common even in the real world. Thus was night sky incarnate unswayed by Vanitas' presence, posture glacial as he proceeded with his interrogation: ❛ You must be mistaken for Sora often. Where is he? ❜

⌜☬⌟ ➡ Vanitas had found himself in this strange world full of unknown technology and people but in this world he felt a calm that he had not known. Taking a deep breath Darkling would stretch and shed the cloak of the Organization that adorned body like weight being shed he felt lighter. He could not sense those of familiar Light’s embrace, maybe this place could be a home for him to discover who he truly is. He had been relaxing taking a walk through streets till he came to an empty one and noticed a lone person. He had every means to go around and not engage them but there was a slight unsettling feeling that had steps slowing before halting. 

Finally they spoke and it took everything with being of Darkness to not groan and snap back but that didn’t extend to the eye roll. Heavy sigh fell from lips as he looked over to the silver haired youth and tilted his head for a moment, “Then does that mean you get mistaken for Riku?” he shot back a sneer forming as he straightened posture. He never liked the comparison to Sora but like this person mentioned it was one he would be stuck with for the rest of his life. “Not sure, not since the day he brought me back and then left.” Shoulders shrugged in nonchalant fashion.

“Though last I heard all his friends were looking for him, they might have made headway by now.” Vanitas had not checked in on his counterpart's whereabouts since the day he learned the other was missing. After all Vanitas now had a chance to be his own person and learn for himself what he could be, he had bigger fish to fry.

[exturk]

Unprompted, always accepting.

@verumking asked: Yozora had learnt to associate the sleek black uniforms of the Turks with trouble . Whilst intel from the wraiths of fate suggested there were Turks operating in the area , the guised deity could not detect any agents in his peripheral . Nonetheless , Leslie Kyle chose to keep up his guard , tilting down the rim of his cap whilst heterochromatic hues scanned the landscape for any suspicious individuals . ( His last run-in with a Turk nearly ended with him dissected on Hojo's operating table. ) Alas , he only found a red-haired woman , and with as much "charisma" as the stoic king could muster , did Yozora bluntly deliver his question : ❛ Have you seen any suited people in the area ? The Turks , I mean . ❜

Funny   how   out   of   all   the   people   he   could've   asked,   it   just   had   to   be   her.           Was   it   a   mere   coincidence   or   did   she   emanate   a   suspicious   sort   of   vibe?

"The   turks?"    she   spoke   innocently,   index   finger   tapping   at   her   chin.       "Hmm.           I   see   them   in   these   parts   occasionally...       haven't   today   though,   sorry."       Cissnei   immediately   wondered   who   this   man   was?       A   member   of   avalanche   perhaps?        Would   make   sense,    it   sure   didn't   seem   like   he   wanted   to   seek   them   out   for   friendly   purposes.        Not   that   it   really   had   anything   to   do   with   her,       she   had    separated   herself   from   the   company   for   months.       Though,    randomly   selling   out   her   old   comrades   wouldn't   do   well   on   her   conscious.    

"I   wouldn't   get   involved   with   those   guys    ...           just   a   suggestion.   They're   a   tough   bunch   ..."

[tidalcove]

Beasts held in captivity often grow complacent over time, primal instinct displaced by inertia. Yozora, however, burnt bright with rebellious wonder, young features often glued to the glass panes of his enclosure. For heterochromatic hues to glimmer with such ambition, after nearly two decades of trial and torture, was a miracle. Yozora attributed this phoenix of hope, risen from the ashes of hardship, to one person. "It's you." Night sky incarnate greeted his star with muted courtesy, striding to the young woman's side. Even in the absence of a beating heart, did his mechanical core instead pulse in her presence. Thus did the king fall shy, cybernetic eyes instead scanning the ceilings of the mezzanine, the gala party they escaped from now a distant murmur. "... I was meaning to speak with you." The Verum Rex finally admitted, focus finally honed onto the violet-eyed maiden. "If I'm not intruding."

→ nameless star ♥︎

these violent delights have violent ends // @verumking

       violet eyes stare across the city in passive interest, quietly appreciating the way the neon lights of quadratum danced and reflected off the windows of the skyscraper. estrella finds herself getting lost in the visuals, a ghost lured into a trance as her eyes close and she grips the railing of the balcony with such an intensity that her knuckles threaten to violently rip through the silken fabric of her gloves. for a moment, she allows herself to forget: to forget not only where she is but who she is. she lets herself forget that this city, her supposed 'home', is nothing but a prison. and soon, her warden comes calling for her.

she spins around to face her king, the burnt out star now looking delicate and refreshed; fully ready to play her designed role to perfection. a smile, playful and bold, graces her features - filling in the gaps of his flaws shyness - before she speaks. ❛ not at all. ’ estrella keeps her eyes locked on his despite how his own look at everything but her. ❛ i was just thinking about how...utterly famished i am these days. ’ she's always hungry. yearning. desperate to fill a void with something opaque. untouchable. she's hungry for love - even more so to escape. yozora misses the brief but dangerous gleam in her eyes while she stares down at him because he's never looking where he should. it's gone once he finally gazes up at her; her eyes all sparkling adoration and attentiveness.

her white, pearlescent heels click pleasantly across the floor as the young woman practically glides towards him, an arm wrapping snuggly around his own before her glossed lips grew close to his ear. ❛ let's speak somewhere else. i'm bored with this party already. ’ she whispers with a giggle, giving him no room to protest as she tugs him towards a subtle exit she had spotted five minutes into this party. ❛ there was this lovely new place i spotted while out shopping the other day. it made me think of you... ’

[royalight]

Send Kabedon to force my muse against a wall | accepting

@verumking asked: Kabedon

A   startled   squeak   emanated   from   rose-tinted   lips,   her   wide   doe   eyes   gawked   in   disbelief.            Who   could   be   so   impudent   as   to   use   such   force   with   her?        At   first   she   thought   they   were   a   stranger   but   once   she   got   a   good   look   of   the   man's   face,    Sarah   realized   she   recognized   him.        

He   was   that   man   from   the   town   square.       The   one   she   had   been   so   curious   about.    

"You    ......        what?        What   are   you   doing?        If   you   wanted   to   say   hello,   there   are   better   ways   to   go   about   it   ..."     

A   pause   lingered   as   she   studied   his   visage,       she   first   noted   how   beautiful   his   eyes   were.    Though   the   more   important   thing   was   that   they   didn't   reflect   any   form   of   malice.        "....Who   are   you?"

[liightsought]

4. sender pulls receiver's head back and calls them a 'good girl’

The tips of her nails have made a home embedded in the flesh of his hips. Skating, skirting, flirting with the tantalizing reach of desire. Pads of thumbs that knead into flesh in momentary intervals here && there, all the while that her tongue flattens against the swollen head of a length since wet with her regard. Taking care of him && reveling in the taste of him on her tongue that nearly causes her to mewl. Captivated in all that he is---as if either of them should be surprised. So she melds forthwith once more && hollows her cheeks to lower lips down length. Perched between his thighs && content with the feeling of the grasp he holds taut within golden locks. Even the minimal coaxing of his head, the bobbing of crown that ensues only to elicit a symphony of breathes from her beloved (&& even her own that reverberate against girth). But just as she starts to feel the stutter in his hips && the erratic influence of hips that might buck here && there, the grasp on her hair serves a new purpose. It guides her head askew in so lewd a sight: her tongue laps desperately at the glistening head of her king's cock. && as she allows the muscle to slip back between her teeth && lidded gaze rises to find him, she takes in the sight of want evident in his eyes. The length that twitches just shy of her bottom lip && the words that come to be thereafter. Good girl.. && the words go between her legs in an instant. A pulse that catches in taut cunt && causes her to nearly purr. A coyness befalls lips, casts curvature minimally to convey self-satisfaction. Perhaps the sight of this alone was enough for the king to let her indulge further. For his grip loosens, && she lowers once more to let the tip catch in the back of her throat without hesitation. She wants all of him, but she wants to watch him squirm too.

[royalarms]

“   if i can’t get answers here ,   i’ll get them somewhere else .   ”

⸻ @verumking .

honey lights dim , flickering with a familiar city buzz . it's late , and it's quiet , and he's walking to his apartment born of rebellion from his minimum wage job born of desperation to appease some yearning for normalcy in which he's never been granted . they've been talking for some time now , and noctis has eluded every question he's been granted thus far .

after all attempts failed , the other rightfully threatens to seek answers elsewhere , and the prince would accept such a notion were he aware of just where he'd go . some , he knows well , stop at nothing for information , and he'd not have his father , nor anyone at the citadel , suffer where he could have slain .

perhaps he's been recognized for who he is .

❛ fine . ask and i'll . . . do my best . ❜

[prideofcornelia]

@verumking : ❛ ... why are you following me everywhere . what do you want ? ❜

WHY he asks. her kitten heels clacked across the pavement as she circled him like a vulture. FINALLY. she saw it from afar but had to see him up close! his eyes were really, really pretty. one red, one blue. like gems! she yanked out her cellphone, the bunny & unicorn charms jingling as she turned on camera mode. ❝ say cheese ! ❞ she giggled, taking a shot. looking at the photo, she whistled.

❝ i gotta say, i'd make an amazing photographer! & you'd make a great model, by the way! ❞ young heiress thrust the phone in front of his face.