#darrowrising

[thelosttitanos-blog-blog-blog]

darrowrising

            ʜᴏᴜsᴇ ᴀɴᴅʀᴏᴍᴇᴅᴀ. Not a lost house, like her own ( it is                not her own, she reminds herself coldly ) but certainly not                a house found anywhere else in Norta. Mare is still in the                midst of learning the intricacies of all the houses native to                her kingdom. She is not at all keen on having another join                her lessons. Even so, she remains just as pleasant as she                knows how to be.

               It is, she has been told, the duty of the royal family to greet                visiting nobility -- or arriving nobility, as is the case at hand.                Apparently these guests are to be a permanent addition to                the royal court.

               She extends her hand politely, tipping her head forward just                enough to show respect, but little enough so as not to lessen                the loftiness of her station as the prince’s betrothed. In truth,                she is simply mimicking Evangeline, although she won’t ever                admit it.

              “Welcome to Archeon, Lord Darrow,” she greets.

               Her lips twitch with the slightest hint of a smile at his name.                It is very nearly her own surname, although she could never                explain her entertainment to him.

[theliarprince]

darrowrising

     “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord.”

                 Andromeda, he says. Certainly his house would have                   been mentioned in their training, were he truly a man                   of worth. All Silvers were, in their own way, but none                    so important as a lord. He knows that his mother can                   hear his thoughts, and soon she will let him in on her                   own. Whether this man is a noble or not will be found                   out sooner or later. He’d better keep his mind clear.

                                       “I apologize, I ought to know your first name. It’s--?”

[aurath-blog]

"What makes you think I'm afraid to die?"

“Because despite yourself, you have so much to lose. No seeing mommy and daddy yet, Darrow. You’re stuck here with the gory rest of us pricks.” He grabs him by the shoulder and hoists him up.

[aurath-blog]

"There is a special place in hell for your kind."

“Oh, Darrow. There is no my kind. I am just far more honest than those around me, even when I am being a liar. I have no doubt, if there is a Hell, I would be first to go ... oh, no... but I won’t be the last. I’ll see each and every one of you there, I’m sure of it.”

[aurath-blog]

"Will you be quiet now?"

Send "Will you be quiet now?" For my muses reactions to yours pushing them against a wall and kissing them

It is quick and not all that gentle. Both of these things should please him, but they do not. What comes next, however, does. Darrow’s mouth crashes against his, and like a pandora opened, Tactus groans spreads his jaw. His teeth painfully knack against the other boy’s, his knees weaken and he stoops, only stopped by Darrow’s grip on his collar. It awakens Tactus, and he retaliates in action.He does not become quiet, he does not obey, he does not kneel before him. Tactus grabs Darrow’s collar as well, tight until his knuckles whiten, and he shakes him, pushing him back to throw him against the opposite corridor wall. “No,” he hisses before shoving his tongue into the hero’s mouth, tasting glory and iron (did his teeth cut him a moment before?). His hand moves down his chest, over his waist, down his thigh and then sharply UP to grip between Darrow’s legs.

[aurath-blog]

☽

send me ☽ for my muse to drunkenly confess feelings to yours

His face feels hot, and his skin too busy, like there’s too much happening beneath him, too much to hold in his bones, behind his ribcage. His arms wrap around Darrow’s lap, his cheek pressed to the boy’s leg. In a way, he’s… reminded of his mother, but the two sharing the same thought makes him feel gutted before he begins. Darrow protests, gently and playfully, in an attempt to pry himself free, but Tactus clutches him further. He has tears in his eyes, and he doesn’t understand why.“I’m not — your shadow,” Tactus drunkenly slurs, smashing his pointed nose into the side of Darrow’s hip. “But you are s o bright. I’llneverbebrightenough,” he mumbles into fabric and heat. “I’ll never be —” He frowns, knowing what comes next.&& he pulls away just fast enough to vomit onto Darrow’s gravBoots.

[scvro]

“Another flash of lightning and [Sevro] appears, floating in the bitter storm like the ugliest angel ever shit out of heaven.”  you wish you had an entrance as cool as his though, darrow. don’t lie.

[thehowlerquinn-archive-blog]

“Forgive me, please.”

          Quinn reaches for her friend’s hand. ( Friends — that’s what they’ve all become, yes? ) Long fingers wrap around his wrist and tug firmly enough to make him look at her and hold her stare. He’s an odd one; different, though not at all unpleasant. Not like Titus.

          Titus, who had captured and beaten her before sending his dregs to hold her down as he cut off her ear. She was proud to report that she’d broken several noses and kneed someone so hard in the temple they had blacked out in the process. Sadly, it was nowhere near the level of damage she had wanted to inflict, but she had done what she could. 

          “There is nothing to forgive, Reaper.” Her voice is hoarse, throat bruised, and despite the discomfort of the cut in her lip pulling-- she cracks a smile.