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⁇, ✉, ø (:

Send “⁇” for a drunk text.

txt : why can’t we just ducktx t: fucktxt : ignore me i think i drank too much

Send “✉” for a text that wasn’t sent.

txt : Who’s dick do I have to suck to stop being a slave? Seriously.

Send “ø” for a late night text.

txt : What are you wearing?txt : hopefully nothing.

#answered #he has no filter #covaireking

// Close

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Galadrielle was gazing upon the screen of her phone, denying requests that did not need the King’s attention and could be dealt by the employees of the Dominion. Her gaze rose as he approached her. “Mister Sullivan, do you require my assistance?” she spoke softly.

#covaireking #cc: covaireking #cc #/ooc: Did you want to drop Broken Faith? :3

Broken faith // Darius & Gale (Close)

covaireking

The petite mistress stepped into her home, Bryce was absent and yet a scent filled her house, one that had never passed her threshold before, the King’s. Why would he be within her house? Had Bryce done something? She walked hastily and found him standing by the painting Samuel had commissioned for her. “Mister Sullivan.” she greeted, bowing her head and yet she sounded perplexed to see him. “Were you in need of assistance at the Dominion?” she inquired.

#GBroken faith #pr #pr: covaireking #covaireking

covaireking liked your photoset from-beneath-it-devours liked your photoset

I’ve been good, I promise.

#covaireking #frombeneathitdevours #feel free to ignore <3

Resurrection

There was no time set aside for reminiscing or sightseeing when Roslyn stepped off the plane in Covaire. Her destination was set, her goal clear. Of course, things never do go as planned. The assault was instant, two guards rushing to her side to cease the human that had somehow gotten a private plane to drop her in the outskirts of the city. She did not struggle against their grip, instead she let herself be dragged through the familiar streets, her destination still in mind.

The Chateau was a place well remembered; the horrid stone grey walls were decorated with more blood this time around. As if to add irony to the situation, they threw Roslyn in the same cell she was housed in years ago, her scratches and words still etched into the floors. Even when the cells were her holding place for months on end, the four walls could never truly hold her. Though, it seemed that things had drastically changed since the last time she was in the Chateau because her hidden knife was confiscated (wonderful) and the locks had been improved. Truly it was an outcome she should of banked on, but she was a fool blinded by emotion.

“Fuck”, she whispered to herself, hands gripping the iron bars as dread swirled with the ire in her veins. Damn this city. How do you damn a city already filled with the damned? And do not forget, you chose to return.

The small voice of sanity within her mind was right, she had chosen to return and knew the city was cursed the second she woke up on these very floors years ago. All she could now do was wait, hope that her scent drifted through the air to find the man she sought, hope that he found his was to her, and hope that courage and anger didn’t wither with time.

#take two?#closed #resurrection #covaireking

"Sir?" Roslyn's voice was but a whisper carrying through the darkened hallway, but still cut through the lingering silence. Restless night had followed restless night and eventually she could take no more tossing and turning. The girl found herself drifting through the halls, footfalls carrying her to her master room where she paused, knocked softly before easing the door opening slowly, inch by inch.