xacrys-blog

[xacrys-blog]

I like observing people. I like looking at things.

Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out (via wordsnquotes)

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adcir:

adair licks his lips nervously as he hears xacry’s voice from the other side of the door. whatever bravery had inspired him to make the trip down to his crush’s doorway in his silky royal nightwear left him just as quickly as it had arrived and he suddenly didn’t know why he was even here in the first place. his heart seems to speed to life all at once and it was dizzying enough to cloud his inclination to leave, instead urging him to enter the bedroom. he proceeds sheepishly into xac’s room, refusing to look his way partially because he doesn’t know what sort of expression he’ll find and also because he’s never been in this room before. there was plenty to look at, even in the dim lighting xacry has burning for them. “sorry,” he’s immediately apologizing once he does dare lift his curious gaze onto xac’s form curled up in bed. “i didn’t mean to wake you or anything.” it’s been so long he barely even remembers how to talk around xac without sounding ridiculous. even he hears the hint of longing in his own voice. “nothing’s the matter.” it feels important to add. the last time he was abruptly woken from his own sleep, his kingdom was being invaded. “in fact, i could really leave if you’d rather me not be here. i understand.” there’s a sad tinge to his voice, an unexpected self loathing that goes along with the version of himself he’d had to become to process all that he’d lost. “i just… i can’t sleep.” adair’s voice is small by the time he stops talking and his hand lifts to the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly as he stands in the doorway.

his eyes never leave adair’s form as he trails into his room, and xacry can almost immediately feel his heart begin to beat again. his cheeks gain color, as if he’s gained life just from adair’s mere presence in his room. turn him away? he could never. no matter what happened between the two of them, the selfish boy could never bring himself to turn away his prince. not only was it his duty to care for him, but he wanted adair there as well. “no, no,” he pauses, running his tongue over his chapped lips; they’ve been that way for a while now, and no matter how much water he drinks to salivate them, they stay chapped. perhaps adair’s presence could fix that too. just like old times, he moves to his designated side of the bed -- he’s been sleeping on adair’s to fill some sort of hole the other had left when he retreated -- and pats the spot next to him with a sympathetic look upon his face. he can only imagine what the other must be feeling, all of the torment and sadness punching at him like a powerful tsunami. “c’mere,” he speaks softer this time, this tone reserved only and specifically for adair because he knows he needs to be soft with him, and at this point, it’s just common nature for him to do so.

[xacrys-blog]

he’s been laying here for what feels like days, unmoving, feet curled into his blanket to keep warm. his heart feels heavy, as does the rest of his body, and he finds it hard to even work up the effort to face the people of the kingdom when he’s so tired of just about everything. he doesn’t know what it is -- perhaps it’s just him missing adair, or perhaps it’s just him finally caving in on all that’s happened in the last months. the invasion, the pirates...it’s all hitting him head on, and while he can’t decipher why he’s feeling like this now, he has a good idea that it’s because he’s no longer distracted with a certain pair of emerald eyes and smooth curls. the brunette jumps at the noise of the door, eyes flickering slowly over to it as he wages whether or not he wants to get up. he doesn’t. “it’s open,” he grunts out, sinking lower into the comfort of his bed. whoever it is can see themselves in seeing as he doesn’t take much mind in someone seeing him like this -- though really, he knows it can only be one person knocking at this time of night, and finally, after many weeks, he feels his heart start to beat faster, cheeks tinting.

     slowly, the ice around the sea prince’s heart had been melting although his situation had yet to improve. a string of good news related to other happenings around zenan plus the unfamiliar ache of longing were to blame for the positive change in his demeanor and it was the motivation for adair’s midnight escape down the hallway and towards his advisor’s room. before the invasion of kradaeca, he and xacry had been bedmates and while it had been endlessly confusing for adair’s crush, it had felt right. he’d slept better than he’d ever done so before and while neither of them put a name to the fluttery feelings that would spark between them waking up entangled in one another, it was something he’d come to need. pushing everyone away had included distancing himself from xacry but it wasn’t until now, with his heart feeling softer and more vulnerable in the aftermath of sanda mel, that he realized how much he had missed a certain pair of crystal blue eyes. there was a high chance that xacry wouldn’t want to see him. he could also be asleep – it probably wasn’t mutual that being apart revitalized insomnia. still, as he knocked somberly on the door, adair couldn’t quash the surge of hopefulness that flooded his veins. // @xacrys

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ofemeline:

               she takes one look of the man and the first thought that goes to her head is: adair. “and why would you ? no one in their right mind would,” she adds, despite the fact that she, along with her people ( led by her, nonetheless ), ventured into the forest. had there been more spiders then perhaps things would have been far too nasty for her to comment on.

“a foolish man perhaps might wander,” he agrees, nodding his head as he folds his arms over his small chest, arms spiking up on them as a wave of nervousness washes over him like a tidal wave. “though with all that is going on, i imagine the horrors of the forest are starting to look inviting.”

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pvnclora:

      pandora watches the bird try to flap its wings for a moment. it’s almost painful to watch, but she’s transfixed because he’s right. there’s a flutter of hope. “ there’s always hope at the bottom of the box, ” she says with a faint smile. 

“you think so?” he inquires, his gaze settling on the bird with newfound respect. “i can only hope that we can rise much like the bird here. one can only hope, yes?”

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“if i’m honest, your highness, i haven’t ventured into the forest, nor have i learned anything about the creatures who reside there. i can imagine, though, they’re quite...hostile. they don’t call it forbidden for nothing,” xacry juts out, gulping at the sight of the eerie trees quite skittishly. what a baby he was.

            “now i see why the people of bearoria fear the forbidden forest,” she spoke her thoughts aloud as she eyed the dark trees. the queen was on the border of bearoria, peering into the darkness ( despite it being in the middle of the day ). “are attacks common ? from the creatures in there ?” she turned to the nearest person in the town before gesturing to the forest.

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pvnclora:

      she glances over at him, surprised by the tone of his voice. a satisfied smile pulls at the edges of her lips, “ they are beautiful. ” then, gently she scoops the bird into her palm. it flutters weakly in her hand. “ at least they’re still alive, ” she says.

“seems like it’s still got a flutter of hope left in it,” he remarks, studying the bird closely, “something we all need in trying times such as these.” hope was in rare occurrence as far as he considered.

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as respectful as he must be around the king, he can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes at the mere thought of the holiday. to him, it seems pointless, such a daft way to honor love and adoration for a partner. “it does seem that way, your majesty,” he mumbles, “are you quite excited?” his tone isn’t meant to sound bitter, but he can’t help it from slipping forward -- love isn’t his thing, much less celebrating it. he’d much rather go on about his day.

he had left at noon, the couple of hours he’d spent sleeping after his shift weighing heavily on him. a ride was what he needed, and had gone to the stables and ordered a stablehand to saddle one of the horses he’d brought from norden. he had ridden hard and fast, using the trails made by other like-minded people, working muscles that had been idle for far too long. returning to the castle at a much slower pace, henry was surprised to see the business of the courtyard. “ seems as though everyone is preparing for sanda mel, ” he said aloud, deftly slipping from the horse and grabbing the reins.

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pvnclora:

     as soon as she spots the bird, she crouches lowly to inspect the grounded animal – caring very little for the dirt that could possibly stain her dress. “ i find that i have a better bond with birds than humans. ”

as much as he can’t relate, he respects her statement -- mainly because he’s a recluse himself. his sapphire hues follow her every movement, fascinated by her. “i haven’t found the need to get this close to one before. they’re...beautiful,” he finds himself remarking in wonder. he doesn’t know the girl -- he doesn’t have to -- yet he feels close to her in this moment.

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he’s not a big fan of birds. in fact, he thinks they’re bothersome, though he can’t help but smile at how excited pandora looks beside him. “i did,” he murmurs in reply, eyes fluttering from the flying creature back over to her, “you quite like these things, don’t you?”

     pandora had always loved birds. there was no question about that. back home, she had a collection of them. she had personally tended to all her birds and only allowed cordelia, along with a select handpicked number of servants to enter the bird sanctuary. they were always on the back of her mind. that’s why when she hears a shrill chirp from nearby, her ears pique. 

     at the same time, her eyes immediately begin searching for the distressed bird, “ did you hear that ?? ”

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pvrnelle:

         her jaw goes slack at the question. but, she does not fidget, allowing him to work at the caught sleeve without sniping at her.  “ you know, ” she starts, her voice light, “ i could ask the very same for you. where did you even come from ?? it’s like you came out of no where. ” 

he chuckles lightly at her. yes, it seems xacry somehow always manages to be a shadow lurking in some corner, a ghost to many. “i fancied wondering around for a bit. care to walk around with me?”

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once again, xacry has seemed to fall victim to stumbling into rooms he is not wanted. only this time it’s quite possibly the worst thing ever, considering he’s stumbled in on a king, so naturally, his back straightens, his shoulders lower, his chin tips up; he’s the picture of respect. “my apologies, king montague,” he quickly speaks, “i seem to have stumbled into the wrong room. it’s been hard to get used to another castle again. do you need anything? i would be certainly happy to fetch it for you.” 

the lack of people in mourning over nate’s death had sent henry into a frenzy upon first arriving in dracborough. it was something he could not, and never would be able to understand. nate…HAD BEEN ( he still had to get used to using past tense, though he was slow to make a habit of it ) the best royal and king in all of zenan, and to lose such a leader and symbol of hope and justice… henry was sure that the people of even dracborough, who saw emeline as their leader and never nate, should have been wearing all black. still, henry still had to keep up appearances — and keep up with the work that came with it. having been given a room in the castle to use as a makeshift office, he was sitting and ( mostly mindlessly ) shifting through scrolls and parchment until someone entered — whether with the guards’ permission or not. “ what could you possibly want ?” was all he mumbled in response, not even glancing up at the intruder.

[xacrys-blog]

he rolls his eyes at her, carefully moving his nimble fingers to unhook his almost ripped sleeve. he and the girl seemed to always get into bits of trouble with one another -- it seemed like the gods were pulling them together; no matter where they were, they somehow managed to end up together. “jesus, purnelle, you scared me,” he muttered, face flushed. “you’re not following me, are you?”

         as she inspects the fruit cart, purnelle sings quietly under her breath. it’s a song she wrote long ago, before the dracborough ball. with the plague, she had never found time to finish it. but, after returning to dracborough, she had all the time and inspiration at her disposal. 

                 “ behold the dragon queen, 

        standing stately with her scepter,

        like a picture from a dream 

        who can look upon her stately face 

        and not feel lost in her eyes. ” 

       she trails off into quiet vocalization, for that’s all she’s written thus far. but, that should be enough for today, anyway. with curious eyes, she looks up at the merchant. “ can i have this ?? ” in her hands, she holds a large, green pear. the man nods, seemingly dazed. purnelle simply smiles and gently lowers it into her small wicker basket, the bottom already filled with bright and ripe fruits. “ thank you, sir. ” then, she turns, ignoring the guilt churning in her stomach. but, instead of a clean get away, she feels a small tug on the sleeve of her dress. “ oh !! ” she exclaims softly, turning again. “ my apologies !! it seems we’ve snagged eachother. ”

[xacrys-blog]

“aye, i can feel your pain,” xacry replied with a slight nod. he too was missing the warm sun of his home, the welcoming beaches -- too soon had they been taken from him. “i feel as though as soon as i reach home, i have to leave again.”

silence among the loudness of dracborough’s busy streets was impossible to find. but the bustling of the streets ( and even the dry heat ) easily had the stuffiness of the tavern beat, and faye was all too glad to spend a few moments outside rather than have to breathe the stench of hot bodies and ale. still, the smell of the street wasn’t all that better, and she found herself wrinkling her nose over the open book of herbs in her lap. “ gods, who would’ve thought i would miss ironhaven. ” the words were to herself, unbeknownst of anyone overhearing.