#valorxus

[myrlin-archived]

✧ ˚ · . ✦  ›  @valorxus​  ›「 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 」

                    ❛  It’s small, but you’ll be safe here. I promise.  ❜

[godsdw]

@valorxus​

He was tinkering, as usual, when she found him, trying to fix something or update something under the console. The floor was cold against her bare legs as she sat beside him, clad only in one of his spare shirts, setting a fresh cup of tea beside him.

“I didn’t even hear you get up.”

[yowzariversong]

[ plotted starter with @valorxus​ ]

   Golden fabric sweeps against her ankles, caressing her skin and calling up long-distant memories of the last time she did this. Darillium. It’s over three hundred years ago for her now, but a little bit of concentration is all it takes to bring the memories flooding back. Twenty four years filled with love and safe and the knowledge of this is the end. This date is Darillium’s opposite, it’s counterbalance; Darillium was goodbye, this is hello.

   Heels click against the metal grating as she steps into the console room. The lighting is dim and the air has a metallic taste to it, as if still charged from their fight a few days ago. In the end, they’d both lost that fight; pain and fear and love mingling in the space between them and declaring them both defeated.

   This isn’t how she thought it would go, in that last moment in the Library - that point of no return when she would either wipe herself from the data core completely, or take her first real breath in centuries. She never thought she’d somehow do both, leaving her body to aimlessly wander the stars while her memories waited for someone - for him - to come along and jump start them. And even if she had expected that, she never would have expected it to be this him.

   Eyes flick across to where he waits for her, fresh-faced and so young, in spite of the years he clearly feels weighing on him. Slender body bending over the console, she doesn’t doubt that there are deep lines on his forehead and that his lips are pressed together as he frowns at the screen. The view she has of him though is just a little more appealing, and she can’t resist letting her eyes linger for a few moments before clearing her throat to announce her presence.

[pacifistock-a]

&.          @valorxus​            ›       turn it off   (book of mormon),       𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻  𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 . 

“   i  got  a  feeling  that  you  could  be  feeling  a  while  lot  better  than  you  feel  today.   ”     girl  still  wasn’t  used  to  reassuring  speeches.     she’s  learning,    but  that  was  proving  to  be  quite  a  long  process.    and  this  alone  is  proof  of  that.   “   you  say  you  got  a  problem?   well,    that’s  no  problem.   it’s  super  easy  not  to  feel  that  way.   ”

[a-shelasso]

@valorxus​

THE BITTER TASTE OF ale lies poisonously on Diana’s tongue; its pungent scent wafts in the humid air, as though she were drenched in it. At the festivities, it had done little to rouse either her appetite or desire; alas, a stern look from her handler told her that she should not refuse the tradition of her new kingdom. Thus, she drank, praying to the Gods it would dim her inhibitions, that it may make her wedding seem less of an entrapment, more of a heroic sacrifice. 

Her wedding. 

Even considering those string of words together stirs upset in her belly. Always had Diana been fond of the vision of her and Kasia making such a vow together. Never was it to be, though, for Diana had a heart that longed for adventure. She pined for the freedom of the winds; how they twist and turn without authority demanding they do so. How simple life would be if Diana could disintegrate into a bird and fly away from all restrictions. 

Perhaps she has become a bird after all. A caged one. 

As the mahogany door creaks open, Diana remains at her post by the window, dreaming of all that life shall never be. Raven curls twist in the winds, as though keen to escape. But Diana is aware of the presence behind her. Even more so of the expectations for a night such as this.

 It seems curious to wear a sheer nightgown in preparation for the night ahead. 

In this strange culture, perhaps they expected her to make love with clothes on! Certainly that would not surprise Diana, for these people cling to modesty like a babe does to her mother’s breast. Thus, she remains, lithe fingers dancing across the dust of the windowsill, eyes avoiding her new husband. 

[everlightblessing]

            “Most days, I find myself standing outside, looking for any trace of a shooting star to wish upon.”                                                    /  @valorxus​​ for steve rogers ! - sc.

[tocxmply-archive]

If you receive this, you make someone happy. Go on anonymous (or not) and send it to ten of your followers who make you happy. Have a lovely day!

— @valorxus —

          can i cheat? because i really wanna start by saying this ask made me happy! and you know what else makes me happy? you being the sweet, lovely, amazing, wonderful gem you are, and taking a bit of your time to send such a cute thing my way! and there’s also these good beans i love:

@arcusignis & @zcldrizes & @hakune & @putrifyre & @onlycertainty & @longmayshereignxcersei & @ashccra & @orphicdawn & @beckybxrnes & @brycecousland

          i love a big, big, big lot and they make me happy every single day, for existing and for being such an important part in my life — in writing / roleplaying but also so much more beyond that!! ❤︎❤︎❤︎

[lespendragons]

right in the guts. angst sentences // accepting. 

@valorxus​ said: “Did it over occur to you that I never wanted this to begin with?”

  The only option she is left with is to scoff at this – honestly, she doesn’t even know what she expected. Some decency on his part, perhaps. Some due respect, nothing more, Morgana knows too well there will never be anything more. But this, a shared guilt, a recognition of the mistake they both made, this, at least, he owes her. Still, she finds herself taken aback by this – it might be the weight of his future crown that has overshadowed everything she ever saw in him, it might be a simple attempt to shift the responsibility. 

   Maybe she thought too well of him, before, and this is entirely her fault – she’s not a little girl anymore, she should have figured it out a long time ago. Knights in shining armor are nothing but an image, and courtesy is overrated. 

  “Great,” she says sharply, chin lifted slightly, eyes flaring with anger. She doesn’t want to hear the end of it, not really, she feels messed up enough as it is – dirty. In the way that won’t wash off, no matter how long or how hot the bath is, even if she rubs her skin till it’s red and bleeding. Neither of them expected this to happen, Morgana surely didn’t, but it was a decision they both made. Now, however, it appears that Arthur merely had his fun. 

   And it’s funny, it’s almost hilarious how she was ready to defend him, believing him to be different. Not like the others, never callous enough to let himself behave like this.

  Wouldn’t be the first time now, would it? 

    “Good to know you feel this way,” she adds, nervous fingers adjusting the shawl that covers her shoulders. So be it, then. It’s not like she is going to beg. It’s not like she’d expect them to get married now, she isn’t even sure she would want that. A little bit of decency, that’s all she could expect, a set of words he’d think before saying, something adult, something befitting a future king – not this. An affirmation she would take – they weren’t sober, they weren’t thinking straight, they made a mistake, it doesn’t change anything. This does. 

    It would be so much easier if she didn’t remember it, if she hadn’t enjoyed it.

    With a sharp twist of her heels, Morgana turns to walk away.