Sayujya Apolclaes @castherianxgold - Tumblr Blog

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“Is this an honest question? I do believe it is time to prune the marigolds.”

lordxexile‌:

Even in endeavors that didn’t demand fury and conviction, the Queen had always wielded a kind of ardor that made his claim to the throne unquestionable; a steady and ready gleam behind those amber eyes as if a blade half-pulled into its unsheathing ——— one that certainly yielded into something more curious as Zahir watched the other indulge into something more frivolous. Something lax. Something gentle. Something soft. Now, Zahir never really knew how to do it—nor know much about flowers, but at least he knew that it was quite the sight to see the Queen among such beauty. Befitting. And through its grace, Zahir at least tried to lose himself in it and take a breath ——— and let perhaps indulge in what he knew at least. The Queen wanted a banquet for him after all, he might as well try and a be more appreciative of His Majesty’ generosity.

Without eyes or ears, fingers found themselves pinching at the tender green where his gentle pull plucked a flower out of the shrub. And where he found a button on the other’s silken cuff, he reached. He carefully took the Queen’s hand onto his to slip its stem into its hole and let the bloom find its home along the Queen’s wrist.

“Perhaps I should be bold enough to ask ——— do these plans involve us pressed close and flush?”

Sayujya was a Queen in many instances but a King by true title. Casther was his to command and he stood just at the threshold of its might. When he finally met the man again, their language was so overwhelming that the very earth beneath their feet would’ve caved at the tremendous force they wield and in an instant, Sayu tried to cast the enchantment that he’d try to tuck away. He inhaled softly when physical contact was made as if he dared the admiral to continue and surely he left a subtle gesture just before his vista. The flower was taken from his cuff and he let the soft petals gently feather across his broad chest, drifting between his own pecs before inhaling gently. The beautiful fragrance distracted him for a moment. The tantalizing aroma drew eyes closed and the softest of sounds fluttered from the titan. There were moments when the King was a delicate sight. But the moment his eyes open, there was a glint of something else. A hint of the seductress beneath the fabric that was outwardly expressive of what they’d assume his behaviors should’ve been.

Sultry.

Sayu approached him. Challenging every article of the man’s reservation as he lets their closeness dangerously collide. His rich brown eyes drowning the man in their pools as he slowly lets his fingers twirl the fabric of Zahir’s shirt. He didn’t force anyone to respond, he just offered invitations- in the most intricate ways. His posture was relaxed and he softly speaks, breaking his silence yet again.

“Should you feel so inclined, Admiral. I do not require such vivid manipulations of what could be. I do not want you to feel pressure in the sense of forcing one’s self onto another- though pressure would be still present.” His gaze grew sharp, intense. His tone as light as the air at their fingertips. “A plan, perhaps. There would be more than just being pressed close, I am afraid. The flame of a pit wouldn’t be able to stand the heat from us. Stallions wouldn’t have the stamina to compare. And I’d only find worship and submission in shouting the name of the one who draws me weak- if you could ever find such power behind those lips and those mighty arms.” Sayu backed away, turning back to his flowers and draws them into his cradling arms. “That is if you are bold enough to find the strength to part Terran’s blessing. Alot of man stands before you. Surely, I do have plenty of resources to plow.”

#Zahir | PIRATE KING

#metiansfw #castherian lily;;

#castherian grace;;#metiansfw

castherianxgold

Dear Departed;;

castherianxgold

ofdox‌:

the witcher nodded, gazing at the king who was trying to reel his emotions in, or at least try to choose between some to show maddox, perhaps to preserve his image as a king without weakness. he didn’t mention it, though he knew it was there. “never,” he assured sayu. “wouldnae trade this for the world.” being a witcher wasn’t all terrible, and maddox firmly believed that he’d gotten more good out of it than the opposite. he’d learned so much and met so many people on his journey, most of those encounters being irreplaceable now. if he hadn’t chosen this path, he wouldn’t have met sayu, the queens, and even the castherian sons that he’d sworn his life to protect.

with rohan, maddox was certainly tougher, but with sayu he treated him with a respectable distance between them. he wanted to reach out, but with sayu overlooking his subjects, he didn’t feel as if it was an appropriate time. however, he placed a gentle hand on the other male’s arm and spoke kindly. “ah know,” he said. “ah know.” he knew what it felt like to lose a lover, and though time had healed most of the pain, he was still haunted by the memories. “do ye need a hug?” he asked. “no shame askin’ for wan, ye’r a human before a king.”

Sayu lowered his gaze. Falling faint on wanting to keep eye contact. As if the protection of his own vices would’ve been exposed and the witcher would’ve been able to sink a dagger into that of his facade. Beneath all this physicality was a man wishing to understand; to mentally dissect, the trauma that occurred before his very face. But, the man stood as a widow before the eyes of the court. Remarried. Truly happy. But still hurt. He gazed at the ground, studying the rich texture of the marble tiles which were cast in a gold-leaf stain. He drew a sharp breath in as he steadied himself upon the rocky platform of the ground beneath him as he feared a moment of panic just tickles the back of his throat. He felt silenced and if he were to speak, he’d choke. He froze.

Silence.

The King slowly let his eyes drift to a corner. He reclaimed his own will and let the soft exhale wither the binds of apprehension. “Human. Yes. Nurturer, yes. All of these things of a man are my very essence. But, Casther needs its mother and father and it mourns.” He lets his eyes closed and the rigidity of his posture relaxed as he leaned further into the door frame. “There’s not much to be said but to just let the moment pass us, Maddox. For even at that moment, we are to give Terran our burdens.” Sayu drew a gentle inhale. “A hug wouldn’t be necessary. I just...thank you for your kindness. I am not sure if I deserve it presently.” He rubbed the apex just beneath the line of his swelling chest and tender diaphragm. “Do tell me...how doth your son fair?”

#Maddox | CASTHERIAN OX;;

#castherian lily;;#metiansfw

#castherian lily;;

castherianxgold

Dear Departed;;

castherianxgold

ofdox‌:

the castherian witcher was admittedly no stranger to grief. he’d experienced it before his time as a soldier, when the valtolians had invaded and slayed his family and neighbors without mercy. the war had ended on a truce some years ago but everyday was another battle for the witcher, as he sometimes had to carry corpses back to their loved ones after every natural encounter with the beasts. there was little to no protection in the vast farmlands of casther, and maddox couldn’t be present to protect everyone if a beast wandered into a remote village occasionally. he knew the pain of losing a loved one so very well. he was reminded of it every time he had to bring back a mangled corpse of a child who’d played out too far from home, or a dead lover to a weeping widow. over the years, maddox had developed something like a wall to preserve his will to keep fighting because these losses—though they were not explicitly his to mourn for—constantly chipped away at his sanity. it was easily the worst curse of the witcher to bear every death on his shoulders.

he’d been alive to bask in the late queen’s gentle graces and the witcher took the blame, too, even if he was only one man. it pained him to remember the queen, so he could only imagine how much more in pain sayu was, attempting to bear that and still run a kingdom. he knew he wouldn’t and couldn’t do much to soothe that pain with merely his company, but he was there to at least protect this small, but humble gathering of men. “not yet, ye’r majesty,” he said grimly. “ye know ah’m not much o’ a spiritual man but ah intend to see him.” he couldn’t be religious, not in his line of work, but if it appeased the king to see him with a priest, he’d do it.

“the late queen was a right good soul,” maddox said. “th’ people come to honor it.” maddox spoke highly of him, too, since the witcher had felt he owed the queen for taking him in when his own kingdom had banished him many years ago. he’d learned then that casther was a place of overwhelming love and acceptance, most of that due to the late queen’s benevolent rule. “people follow courage an’ heart, not titles, ye’r majesty.”

“Sir Maddox, it is wonderful to know that you’re in good health,” Sayu started. Carefully picking which direction he so chose to direct the conversation. And while he respected the climate of the situation, he also didn’t want to dwell too greatly on the swelling emotion. Not that he didn’t respect his Queen or the former, he just didn’t exactly know how to handle it. It was one of those aspects that even as soft as the Castherian mother had ruled this kingdom, nurturing it with Terran’s ascendant gifts and guidance, he had cast it in an impenetrable shell. He let his eyes study the gathering before him before letting his eyes slowly cast a gentle sway. He was cautious in his approach but when he looked at the mighty Ox, he was careful not to show any sign of the thoughts.

“Sometimes it’s nice to just have the faith of the people without asking or payment.” Sayu offered him a faint smile, obviously dwelling superficially. It was nice to see the man’s aged features that granted a moment of sanctum from the sadness in others. He bows his head, respecting The Witcher for his prowess and title, now making him completely aware that he was aware of his presence and giving the attention he deserved as a friend. “But yes, we lost a great asset to Casther.” Sayu hugs himself, letting a flat palm soothe the anxiousness of his mind. “I hope the manticore attack has had little impact on your obligations to the craft, Maddox.” He keeps eye contact before studying the gathering from a distance.

He just couldn’t manage the abundance of emotion.

#Maddox | CASTHERIAN OX;;

crownofargos‌:

The touch of his hands, the caress his fingers displayed along his chest, the words spoken to confirmation of the question he could not ask, Rohan’s body tensed in the happiest way possible. Eyes lit to match the overhead of stars and his smile became his features. Without holding back, there was a kiss placed on his husband’s lips as his arms circled his shoulders. Never did he actually think such a thing possible. Of course he was married, of course they were sexual but it didn’t even occur to him that he would desire another child. When getting married to the king, Rohan came to the conclusion he would never sire for the king already had his children and yet here the confirmation stood. “Never in my life have I ever felt so humbled, your majesty.” Rohan smiled again, leaning his forehead against Sayu’s. Whatever thoughts he held, wherever they lead were no longer pushed to fear and war but to the health and comfort of his king and unborn child. His hand touched and caressed his lover’s abdomen as his eyes drifted to watch the trace. Lost in thought, he was content to let himself remain in bliss with thoughts of raising his own child with Sayu yet already he felt himself grow to panic how he would be disliked or even hated, especially in his teen years. His smile grew and he laughed at his own thoughts before wrapping his arms around Sayu’s waist and hugging him close. “My king, my love. Our life is again about to become complicated.” He laughed.

“As reassuring as that sounds, I do hope this serves as truly deserved news amidst despair and grief.” The King stroked the Queen’s chin once they were so boldened in their shared space. Before the eyes of any, Sayu bared the gift of esteem. Every inch of his hearth-hued flesh basked under the light of their skies. He smiled with eyelids drawn shut, sealed in perfect harmony as he felt at peace. To know that he would nurture another seed and leave behind their legacy, it made him truly happy. He kissed the man again, placing his hands to his chest as he tips his head and gazes into his eyes. He searched the depths of their seeds and without speaking a word, he lured the man from his hiding place. He tugged at the man’s subconscious and seduced it, letting his pouting pull linger as their lips meld. He let silence ease the rising concern as he twists their buss in a lover’s tangle. His hands sought Rohan’s.

He held onto him.

“We are inseparable. I’ve failed one marriage through the unfortunate events of death but I do not feel as if we should be overshadowed or you should leave this world without a son to carry you on beyond life.” Sayu whispers. “Our lives were complicated before meeting and it shall be after. But together, we have the tools to be prosperous.” Sayu bites his bottom lip. “And even as word is my bond, action speaks louder. You deserve more than I could ever give but I will exhaust myself trying.” He smirked. “I devote myself. Mind.” He touches his forehead, drifting a finger down his own chest, exaggerating certain points of interest. “Spirit.” He circles his swollen pec. “And body.” He drags Rohan’s hands down his body as if striking a match and the graze of his fingertips were like sparks. “Partake in what is yours.”

#ROHAN | My Rose;;

lordxexile‌:

As much as the King had a way with words, it is in such choice of words which weighed against what stubborn resolve that Zahir had to brandish against what the moment demanded that he finally chose to relent, That while caution remained a steady current underneath the flow of his own facade, he could at least say he had half the mind in him to let sense ease him through his current teeter—well, that and two good ears that were very much willing heed to advice. He claim it to be unwise ———— and Zahir wouldn’t like to think that he is unwise. Besides, the King did have his word on the nature of his gifts. Though at most, there was an easier pave for willingness when he’s not first in line to be tossed from a cliff by gossiping nobles. Hopefully. In all the boldness that his mind came sole privy to, Zahir thought that at the very least, the Royal Consort should count for something ———— the beautiful vision such as he; majesty and might that is almost unmarred. Some would be bound to be keen.

“Then consider His Majesty successful in his encouragement,” Zahir finally replied, looking over his a smile as he had let his eyes feast once more onto the buxom beauty that stood stalwart beside him. “I’d say it’s perhaps long overdue that I wash the sea water from my tongue,” he hummed on, chuckling softly before he came broad once more from a steadying sigh as he turned fully towards the other. “Would it be anytime soon? I was planning to see what the markets of the capital had in store for me, but if His Majesty would see his plans more convenient then I’d say such a trip could wait…”

“Very well. So it shall be word and word shall be bond.” Sayu met the man’s gaze. Beneath the surface was gratitude that the admiral had finally considered the weight his breathe to be valuable. But, there was also a hint of relief. He let his eyes seek the basin of Zahir’s lips to fully grasp the context to which both men had set. To understand the meaning of his words as if he had gone deaf. He studied them for a moment. Letting the richness of his tone ease his worry. The smoothness of his lovely skin providing a decent distraction. He lets his part, just lightly wetting them with his tongue before gazing into his eyes- finally. He offers the man a full smile, slowly crossing the path of the Admiral’s physical space. He smiled, letting his head drop just enough to hide his expression. That was until he crossed his right and began to arrange the new flowers. Perhaps the King should be less enticing but before the eyes of a handsome man, he was spent.

“Admiral I’d suggest providing me a few hours to arrange the best provisions we have to offer before you busy yourself with countless searching through the same items,” Sayu smirks. His grin grows as he leans upon the vertical surface. He slowly turns to face Zahir. His eyes venturing toward space next to him as both men were to have little distance to familiarize themselves. “I could give you plenty of plans but do you desire to meet them?” Sayu prunes the leaves, taking the unhealthy abundance of growth and sets them aside. “I’d also add that you may not want to share as close of a tight space with me. Some can’t handle the burden.”

#Zahir | PIRATE KING

dawningblade‌:

Discomfort, unfamiliarity, perhaps lack of practice– all hopefully held a different flavor on the social palate than disinterest or distance, but as such would rely on the predetermined mindset of the receiver. Vas dressed to mourn, but moved to carry himself as a man meeting his equal.

As Sayu progressed to condolences, even recognition of Valtolian losses… Vas exhaled. Nowhere near a sigh of disinterest, but instead, clear relief. Shoulders would settle, eyes would alight with that glow of warm dawn that those closest would recognize as the man starting to relax. “Your consideration and understanding, it’s beyond appreciated.”

And it was– Vas was dressed and armed in the only way he could think to for the situation. It wasn’t his kind of warfront, not his method of conflict by the slightest. Aurora rubbed elbows with other leaders, Vas just scared them and killed their soldiers.

Perhaps he’d overprepared, assuming the other king would move to set him on the back foot. “As we speak, our soldiers are focused on recovery and reconstruction, and our own Queen moves to invite the other kingdoms to participate in the coming investigation.” What Vas didn’t mention, was the finances of rebuilding the city – by his own decree, Valtolia would do all it could to recover from within her own coffers.

Valtolia could provide for themselves- but that wasn’t Sayu’s current stance. That treaty, the one signed by the hands of the reigning Kings and sealed in the departure of countless soldiers as well as innocent spillage, was what had the Castherian lily so boldly offering his hand in completing the tasks of their neighbor. He drew hands; sealed by palm, to meet with that of the table. It gave him a little less abdominal pressure and a nice little stretch to accommodate for illustration that he was humbly presenting himself.

“The confines of your walls are more than capable of providing the necessary means to rebuild. But, that is not why I am offering aid. I seek to give my people a chance to recognize that it was not just Casther trying to prevent themselves from being trampled. I seek to give them the perspective that we were not alone in a foreign land. But! We were alongside a fellow man to seek refuge during the most fearsome experience.” But perhaps his plea fell on the ears of a man with his mindset and his orders set forth by his kingship. For that, he couldn’t quite be angry. He honored the man’s wishes and he even celebrated how decisive he’d been.

“You have Casther’s cooperation.” Sayu leans back into his seat. His own exhale timed perfectly to let the pressure upon his back be released with his snuggle into the firm cushion of the provided chair. “We shall aid his majesty with whatever we shall be instructed. Though should your people need more rations from Terran’s blessing, I will be happy to provide a portion of extra cattle and produce to feed them. Though you are far more capable to lead your soldiers into duty, allow our lands to build them and keep them strong?”

#Gervasius | VALTOLIAN CROWN;;

Dear Departed;;

Castherian Outpost 50 Miles outside of the Capital - Rastus Anik Toyne [Former]

OPEN

Standing just beyond the threshold, Sayu watched as noble and commoner shook hands: meeting in a safe space provided to grieve, celebrate, and rejoice in fellowship. The symbolism of each member made the King bow his head and in a moment of silence, he let his own feelings swarm the darkness of his mind. Sadness wasn’t a luxury to which he could afford, not for the people. Not even for himself. His hand rests above the apex of his abdomen, feeling a slight rise in tension. A spurt of heat. A tightening drawing the perimeter of the diaphragmic muscles to pull inwards. Sickness, perhaps. The man stood strong, firmly rooted in that very spot to keep himself from feeling as if he; too, were sinking into the downward spiral of depression. A moment of separation anxiety tugging at the man’s mental consciousness and his stout physicality. He let the line of his tunic shift just to let residual heat rise from him like steam. All of which were the result of his wandering mind and overstimulated breathing that couldn’t keep up with the trembling of a strong heart to be cast out of its own emotions. Much like the time passed, he couldn’t quite leave the loss where it was buried and staring into each of his sons’ eyes, he could see a piece of him. Their smiles made him feel closer to the late Queen but it wasn’t much he could do to erase the past.

“You know,” Sayu leans against the wooden trim, keeping his eye upon the crowd of people but throwing his voice just so the other just behind him would hear him clearly. “I can’t quite release the thought that so many devoted members of our society and those who traveled from far corners of Metia, chose to serve the memory of him. It’s beautiful...” He rubs his ribs, settling to rolling butterflies in his gut. “But, it’s not particularly favorable to approach without warning.” It wasn’t hard to pass the guards. The Kings’ order was to be mindful but less responsive. It was a time for remembrance. For the one departed and those, they’d lost due to the manticores.

Sayu lowers his head, looking at his feet. And though he wanted to cry, to even feel the stiffness of pain’s cold stroke, he was numb. His own mind hardened to the aftermath and the constant apologies that couldn’t even stop him from seeing his husband’s blood on his own fingers. He inhaled deeply as his breast rose, pecs swelling - as per usual; and, he’d finally give acknowledgments by bowing his head. “Have you met with the devoted priest? He says he’d like to make time for everyone even if it’s for one second or for a handshake. You should fellowship. I am just a moment with my own thoughts.”

#metiastarter #tw: depression - grief - death - blood

#castherian grace;;

dawningblade‌:

Half the words required to give Aurora’s present location had left him before he paused. The crown of Casther, the kingdom with the most to gain from Valtolia’s supposed loss of Metian favor, was calling on him. The dynamic of the dawn king and dusk queen was known – he fought outside the castle, they fought within – which only made the request more of a mystery. Gervasius stood before his messenger almost dumbly for a moment, copper brows knitted inward. He blinked himself back to clarity. “I– Yes, I’ll… I will meet with him shortly. The gifts will be appreciated by House Remes as a whole, a warm comfort when it’s most needed.” He nods, dismissing the man to return.

Vas was a sword. A weapon. Not a diplomat by any means – he mostly met other nations afield, only recently involving himself in less bloody affairs of other lands. Some memory of clothing being the armor of negotiators came to mind, so the king moved to dress the part. The tunic was black, for mourning and loss, with thin silver embroidering to emulate a starry night sky. Turquoise sat enveloped in silver as it hung from his neck, drawing attention to how loose and low the front of the tunic hung. As he moved for the sitting room, he flagged a few servants as he passed – earning a few shocked looks for his attempt at an impressing appearance – and sent for older Valtolian vintages to be opened and brought forth.

Gervasius Remes II, Dawn King, Blade of the Night, took a breath to steady himself before entering the room proper.

“Thank you for your patience, King Sayujya.” With the time to prepare himself, Vas’ grin was as warm and soft as ever; likely a contrast to the stories told about him abroad. Still, there was a notable delay before he’d continued. “It’s good to see you safe. We’re working day and night to find and assist everyone we can.”

When the King entered, Sayu swallowed. Not to remind himself or embody nerves or anxiety but of habit. Every ounce of reflection was pushed away. Curiosities subsided. The Castherian grace was here as a way to extend a moment of peace that differed from the hands of cold silence and unspoken treaties. Both a symbol of prosperity for their people. The sun. The earth. The brawny King let his eyes drift from the gaze beneath his chin to set upon Gervasius. A face he hadn’t really seen in a quite a few years. His hands tucked into his lap, gathering the weight of his world. It was often bittersweet to sit behind the walls of a place that held so much pain. The cobblestone which bathed in the droplets of severance. But, he was not here to revisit the fears and grief.

Sayu was here for what feels like a mission to their people, not just Casther.

“It is no price to wait for the head of a Kingdom for the urgency is of little matter to either of our husbands. And even with the wealth of knowledge our advisors share, I do believe we should sit down and discuss things.” Sayu drifts. His body sways in his seat as he felt a little pressure in places that weren’t necessarily pain but discomfort. He smiles through it all. Sayu drank of the King’s features, noting each shift as they grew closer- political distance. And it wasn’t difficult to tell that their encounter was a bit strained- stressed from the resolute of war and stretched by time. Essentially, they were strangers with familiar faces.

“The tournament had a lovely start.” Sayu began. He didn’t want to waste the man’s time. He knew that the matters were pressing. “I wanted to extend my condolences to the Valtolian people you’ve lost and to offer the hand of Casther. It is unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed by a beast- though we know there are attacks in all places.” Sayu heaved; inhaling deeply, his chest swelling immediately with the expanse of air-intake. He sighs, letting it all out in a steady, heavy exhale.

“We know that the coordinated numbers and the direction of their path couldn’t be left to random. And it is by no means an accident. Something or someone sent them from Argia.” He clasps his hands together. “I have come to also offer what hand I can to provide what we can for your efforts. We’ve taken our hit but Valtolia has seen the immediate impact. I understand that when can never make up for what we’ve lost but I offer a hand into preparing for what is to come.”

#Gervasius | VALTOLIAN CROWN;;

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