#iliakos

[selinakos]

@iliakos​  :   ‘ you deserve more than i could give you. ’    /     chandra & altan.  angst starters. accepting.

‘ hush now. ’    she tells him, reaching up with a shaky hand to rest on his cheek. she is so tired, so weak from holding on. the village healers did all they could : it would be up to her body and the grace of the gods that she would heal from the sword gash through her stomach. she smiles so softly at him, so forgiving and protective. no one was going to be able to disrespect him, not even himself.  ‘ you were protecting someone who could not protect themself. how in all of the lands could i expect anymore than what i have already asked of you  ?   hush now, and sit with me. ’  

and so he does, sitting by the edge of the bed as her hair splays out like a stygian curtain, dripping off the edge of the cushions and blankets. she sniffles once, twice, teary eyes blossoming at him as he grows closer.  ‘ we cannot win every fight without injury.  the queen is the strongest piece on the board for a reason.  we will lose, we will heal, and we will carry on. ’  her voice is barely a whisper, still audible due to their close proximity, and her hand wipes away a tear track from his sun-kissed cheek.  ‘ you are so beautiful, even when you mourn.  do not cry for me, for i have not died, and i have no intention of abandoning you, my love.  my umiłowany .  my altan.  ’ 

[selinakos]

@iliakos​   /   presenting her majesty, high queen chandra of house oberon, and his majesty, high king altan of house rashmi.  like for a starter. accepting.

inhale. exhale. breathe in, and then out.   divinity exists within their skin,  and she knows that there is a time and a place to exert her power. her fingers slip into the crook of her beloved’s elbow, excusing them for a brief recess. a scowl floods her face as soon as their backs are turned, and only when they are hidden in a shadow brought about by a patio and the sun does she whisper to him :  ‘ i do not trust him. the young lord is speaking in rhymes and riddles . . . are you sure we are safe here? ’

[selinakos]

@iliakos​ liked for a dialogue starter.

‘ will you please tell your babies that i cannot handle spicy food, and for them to stop craving it? ’

[deputystakes-moved]

@iliakos said,   meta: laughter, driving.     /     send me a topic to write a meta about my muse on.   part one — laughter.

ashley has always been quiet, and that extends to his laughter as well.   it extends to everything.   as a boy, he might’ve smiled at his uncle’s jokes, but it was a rare sight.   he doesn’t express happiness like he expresses anger.   it’s always much more muted.   even in the corps, where they barked and howled during exchanges of crude jokes and dark humor, he was still quiet.   he made his deadpan snarks and watched his squad erupt around him.   it’s a rare sight to see ashley smile, and even more rare to see him laugh.   and it is, on his part, a conscious effort not to, but it’s also just the way he is.

and, oddly enough — he tends to smile and laugh more when he’s distraught.   which allows me to bring up this quote from richard siken —

eventually something you love is going to be taken away.   and then you will fall to the floor crying.   and then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking,   ‘ i am falling to the floor crying, ’   but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well.

he’s so used to grieving, yet he’s so disconnected from his grief that — it really begins to feel like a joke, once he starts mourning again.   when he fails to convert his sadness into anger, well — game over.   because he knows how to process and release anger.   he doesn’t know to process and release grief.   even after a lifetime of grieving.   i like to say that ashley has mourning down to a science, but if you really pick it apart, and if you dissect him and his mourning rituals — he doesn’t.   he gets drunk and he doesn’t sleep and he waits for the grief to go away.   and sometimes it doesn’t go away.   and then he starts laughing, because he’s drunk, and his friend is dead, and he notices that his black henley doesn’t really match his black jacket.  

[selinakos]

@iliakos​ :  ❝ you really don’t understand how much you mean to me, do you ? ❞  unknown meme. not accepting.

‘ tell me again, ’   she whispers into a gasp as altan’s strong arms lift her up by her legs, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as he guides her legs around his waist. she knows exactly how much she means to him : he doesn’t let a day go by that he doesn’t confess his love to her or speaks to her beauty. there is no room for doubt in her heart so long as altan is speaking to her, and she does her best to ensure that his love is returned in armfuls. it is the moon’s duty to reflect the radiance of the sun, and she does so in turn. her hands find themselves on his arms, her eyes on his body. i love you, her body language reads, for she reserves her words for politicians and patriarchs. her speech to altan is carnal and private, something only he is allowed to see. something sacred and beautiful.  know that i love you.

he whispers into her skin as he works down the corset strings. the prayers he offers her are of devotion, of love, of tender nature and care. he whispers into her flesh, i love you, know that i love you and she responds with gasps and whispers and pleading whimpers. her back finds the bed, his form eclipsing her as she unravels before him.

‘ you really don’t know what you do to me, do you? ’  altan asks her, a follow up to the first question, and chandra lets the silence hang there for a moment. deep eyes look up at him and everything that he is, her hands taking the time to admire his face in all its sharp angles. he is to straight and narrow as she is to curvy and buxom. her chest rises and falls, overwhelmed with the amount of love he offers her. it exists in every slant of his face, every speckle of gold in his eyes. 

‘ show me, ’ she whispers, and he does.

[poswiecenia]

@iliakos​  --  “ I want the name of the ruiner. ” / for fee    //     𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 - 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐈𝐋

         (  ✨   )              THEY DON’T NEED THE DISASTER    in their life right now.   they don’t need it but    .  .    the desire for revenge and the desperate need to    FEEL SAFE    if even for a year or three was needed.          ❝              THE MAGION FAMILY.    they’ve been around for generations and    .  .    they believe    me    to be at fault for the loss of family long ago.   they’re trying to    KILL ME    and i just    .  .   would like a breather.                ❞            and time to rebuild their bar. 

[poswiecenia]

@iliakos​  --  ❝ this isn’t the ending that you deserve. ❞ / for fee    //    unprompted ask

         (  ✨   )                 THE WITCH SIGHS,   their fingers buzzing with energy ‘fore it died down,    exhausted from fighting    TO LIVE    as long as they have.

             ❝              AT LEAST ONE    being thinks so.    feels like    FATE    has it    OUT FOR ME.                 ❞            

[selinakos]

@iliakos​ : ‘ you touch my skin, and it burns for you. only for you. ’  pinterest sentence starters. not accepting.

‘ oh, beloved, ’   chandra’s voice tuts at him, gentle and kind, as he weeps into her palms like she is a prophetess and he, a devout who has lost the favor of his god. these are both far from true, of course, but the love that exudes from her as she fights this battle is all the same. she shushes him, wiping his tears with her hands.  only for you,  he says like it’s a prayer, and she knows that it is, because he is asking, in this way, why do i have only her left?  why do i have to say goodbye to everyone else?  why were they taken from me?

she brings him into her arms, a hand on the back of his head as she presses him against her bosom, her lips finding the crown of his hair.  (  one day,  she promises him,  you will wear a crown of golden leaves, and they will be beautiful, and all will see that you are beloved by the gods and the people, just as i love you.  one day,  she promises him, we will be husband and wife, and we will oust nikolai and his whore from thrones that belong to us.  if we do not, then we will spend eternity in the abyss together.  our ashes will look so beautiful together.  )  ‘ i know how you must miss them.  we will avenge them.  i know, handsome. i miss mine, too. but i’m here for you, and i will not let that bastard take you from me. you’re safe here, in my arms.  ’

altan cries, and he continues to cry until his body cannot anymore, until he is brought about to slumber by the god of sleep, a silent and temporary mercy from the growing darkness behind his skull. chandra does not sleep - not because of the night, when she is most alert, but instead because a hawklike gaze casts watch over altan, precious jewel he is. she encourages someone to take him from her: she encourages nikolai to destroy that which is hers. she will rip his throat out with her teeth for making altan mourn.  SHE WILL CONSUME HIS HEART FOR DEVOURING HERS.