♘

❝ you will always be fond of me. i represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit. ❞ - o. wilde ☾ MUSES: sir edmund wolfgang snowdon, english knight.

[crowncfhorns-blog]

most of the starters I owe you are drafted for tomorrow, ive got one class in the morning and then I'll be around for most of the day after that so if you wanna stir up some angst u know where to find me

[crowncfhorns-blog]

@victorvonkleist

the knight sat alone in an ornate drawing room, awake in the early hours of the morning to stand guard in the residence hall for the few that could sleep. he nursed a bottle of rum and stared into the hearth, ruminating.  there was the slight shuffle of movement in the hall, enough to draw edmund’s attention. “boy.” he snapped, turning to face the silhouette in the doorway. “just where is it you’re going so late?”

[crowncfhorns-blog]

@youngprinceling

it had been a long day to say the least. after the massacre there was no time to grieve when so many mothers were left without knowing if their children were among those dead - or worse. with his sword still held in a white-knuckled grip, edmund had pointed at the nearest men who looked old enough to hold a sword and recruited them to be his search party. turning the castle inside out looking for the missing guests had been all but fruitless, and most of the men he’d hastily recruited were unfamiliar to the horrors awaiting them along the way. one particular scene proved too much to handle for two of the young nobles, and they’d fled the scene heaving into their hands. the gore was something the knight had grown used to long ago, after opening up enough men there’s not much that can surprise you about what’s inside. 

by the time the castle had been cleared that night, the search party had made peace with the idea that tomorrow they’d begin their search through the woods that surrounded the castle - which were already rumored to be haunted. the knight was washing the caked blood from his face when he noticed the figure behind him in the mirror. he wiped a rag along his jaw, smearing the red into his stubble. “if you’re here to criticize my strategy like your fellow companions, you might as well save yourself the breath it would take to say it. i’m done taking advice for the day.” the man sighed, picking at a matted tuft of blond hair. “what’s on your mind?” he said without looking up.

[crowncfhorns-blog]

the knight struck his sword deep into the pirate’s chest, following the body as it fell to the ground. when the fighting broke out, his sword was already on hand. the shrieks of panic and agony were over the incessant clang of metal on metal, the occasional sickening gush of flesh being split. he felt his blood singing in his veins, his hands steady where they gripped the hilt of his sword, moving gracefully in the grim dance. the blade itself he had polished and sharpened religiously on sleepless nights when he was shaken from sleep, a habit he was glad for now as it sliced through muscle and bone as if they were made of butter. another man’s blood speckled his cheek. the familiar taste of iron was on his lips, and for the first time in years, his mind was blissfully clear. he was pulling his sword from the dead man’s sternum when he noticed another attendant cornered by a pirate brandishing a woodcutter’s axe. he rushed the pirate, and before his foe could make out his fate, edmund’s sword had already severed his head cleanly from his shoulders. blood sprayed in a high arch, and with a nudge of his boot the body fell forward in a slump. “are you trying to get yourself killed?” he panted at the cornered attendant.

[crowncfhorns-blog]

guys help I just got to campus and I think they're gonna mug me

[crowncfhorns-blog]

“are the two suddenly mutually exclusive?” the man sighed, head lolling back on his shoulders. “anyone with limbs and half a brain can fight, there’s no questioning that, but no matter how good you think you are at fucking, if you can’t dance, you can’t fuck.” he assured the younger man.

[crowneds-a]

❛  ── my apologies. i’m afraid i wasn’t quite listening.  ❜  a sincerely apologetic smile makes its way onto jacques’ face as he tunes back into the conversation, a little embarrassed that he had let his attention drift in the first place. ❛  my oldest insisted that i let her attend tonight, and i’m a little trouble keeping track of her. she’s far too young to be getting into any trouble with boys.  ❜

[crowncfhorns-blog]

“you do not need to apologize, i do quite understand. thankfully my daughter has always been more interested in persuing stray cats and pigeons than in persuing boys.” the knight responded cordially.

[eldestprince-blog]

               maximilian had almost no desire to let go of his goblet tonight, except maybe to dance with a few people ladies and poke fun at alhwin for his lack of dancing. he kept his eyes trained on one of the attendees who was across the room, their mask glinting in the hundreds of candles his mother had placed throughout the room to light it up. he knew the point of the masks were to hide identities, but the fact that the prince didn’t know (or couldn’t tell) who this person was, was bugging him. placing the metal goblet on the passing tray of a worker, he made his way over to the other who was deep in conversation. “ your mask is quite wonderful, is it handmade? “ he inquired once he made it over to the other.

[crowncfhorns-blog]

the knight had spent the majority of the evening hiding what remained of his face behind the lip of his glass. he’d spoken to very few people, and only when they’d approached him. for the past ten minutes he’d been caught in a cumbersome lecture about types of parasitic fungus from a botanist, drinking deeply from his wine and resisting the urge to fiddle with his mask where it bit into his skin. the metalwork of his mask was ornate, crafted from gold the piece was as smooth and light as wicker. the was made out of delicate strands woven to mimick the twine of ivy, in a pattern that was celtic in inspiration. gilded leaves were inlaid the design and sprouted out at his temples. losing interest, his gaze began to wander until he noticed another person - a man - eyeing him from across the room behind a mask. the knight flashed the man a smile as he approached, and assured the botanist they’d resume their conversation presently. 

the knight preened at the compliment, “i thank you, and indeed, it is. i had it specially made by a ironsmith a few weeks ago. i’ve tried to convince the man he could make an living off of making these, but he doesn’t wish to. thinks the work is too effeminate.” edmund shrugged a shoulder. the metal pinched at his temples to hold the piece in place, but was otherwise comfortable, and quite beautiful. “thank you for saving me from agustus, by the way. he’s quite dreadful conversation.”

[sicarivss]

     How wonderful. A masquerade ball, where friend and foe could mingle and none be the wiser about who could be playing nice while stabbing them in the back. Without shadow of a doubt, she didn’t miss attending balls no matter how grandiose or for which reason. Yet there she was, amongst all others, pretending to enjoy herself drink in hand. ❝ At least alcohol’s making the rounds. ❞ She muttered, fingers drumming against the metal as she brought the cup down from her lips.   

[crowncfhorns-blog]

the knight stood in the  leaning against a pillar and surveying the crowd in their lavish costumes, masks ornately decorated to distract from the people beneath. the spot was inconspicuous enough for him not to be noticed as he watched the twirl beneath the crystal chandelier, even in his gilded uniform. his attention was drawn away by the woman’s voice. “yes, i quite agree.“ he frowned, glancing into his own flute to find it nearly empty. “i haven’t been keen on ballroom dancing since i was a boy, but the wine and music is decent enough.”

[ghostmusings]

“Should you not be inside there enjoying yourself?” Kazan called from the stairway he was currently sitting on, a small grin on his face. “You do not like dancing, or are you just no good at it?”

[crowncfhorns-blog]

“i am enjoying myself.” edmund slurred from where he sat, lifting his head to face the stranger with one brow raised. “and on the contrary, you’d be surprised how well the footwork in fencing translates to dancing.” the knight added before taking another  deep drink of wine.

[crowncfhorns-blog]

seeing all these starters is getting me so PUMPED for this drop!!! you're all such talented & amazing writers and I'm super excited to jump into this event tomorrow after my first day of college!

[smalltownboymp3]

Reblog if you're a Gryffindor.

[burkcesq]

stuckwith-harry:

ravenclaw | hufflepuff | slytherin

[misskamala]

Come on, boy.

[crowncfhorns-blog]

sir edmund wolfgang snowdon ~ aesthetics ( 2 / ? ) + christopher 

(previous)

“ with shortness of breath

you explained the infinite

how rare and beautiful

it truly is

that we exist. ”

[crowncfhorns-blog]

LATE FOR THE PSA PARTY ANNOUNCEMENT

everyone is doing these and since the threads i have for edmund are all pretty old, i will be finishing the ones i can today before the plot drop. since most of our characters are going to be coming out of this different than when they went in, i’d like to have a fresh start in the aftermath. so please like this post or dm me if you’d like to plot for the event!!

[crowncfhorns-blog]

“being hard-boiled has it’s benefits, miss.” edmund stated dryly, cracked lips tweaked at the edges. he felt the venom on her voice but elected to ignore it. he’d almost scoffed at it; pragmatic, as if he was so considerate. after giving decades of his life in service to the crown, he had only ever been repaid with grief. the knight had long been disenchanted by promises of achieving honor and glory in battle, for years his armor had done nothing but sit and collect dust out of sight. the things he’d done were beyond justification, he knew, and there wasn’t a night that passed without his sleep being overcome by visions of the horrors he’d created. the englishman had grown indifferent towards his country, only retaining his title in fear of what he’d become without it. his armor was cumbersome after the journey and but he kept his attention focused as best he could. his stomach rumbled painfully at the thought of food. “my thanks, that would be most gracious of you.” the sarcasm in his voice was muted. he gestured for his men to stay behind in the throne room, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders now that he didn’t have to keep an eye trained on his company. “and what of yourself? your moral obligation isn’t to your homeland, i reckon.”

[ghostmusings]

Benito let out a small sigh as he wrapped a long piece of cloth around his ankle as he sat on one of the stone steps. “I do not think I will be of much use with this. Do you know how to quickly heal a sprain?” The boy looked up at the other, a small frown as he tried to hide his pain. “This is why you do not horse ride.”

[crowncfhorns-blog]

“quickly? no. i’m afraid the best treatment for a sprain is rest.” the knight shrugged, a lilt of amusement in his voice. he’d been in the same position many times, having been a reckless rider in his youth, and the consequences matured with him. bits of him snapped and creaked and ached in the night and on the colder days, all of which he attributed to his years of jousting. “i suppose that’s part of the risk you take when you sit your arse on an animal ant trust it to do what you want it to. are you really so eager to get back in the saddle?”