D A V I D

he is so very young to be an ELDER of the blood, but there is no denying his PROMISE, or the responsibility he shoulders with such DIGNITY.

[valouriism]

Headcanon

  The events leading up to David’s death and Eve’s kidnapping are unclear to Selene (as well as the audience), and neither David nor Eve ever seem willing to expand on the details surrounding it. The following sequence of events describe the occurrence as @hybridiism and I have interpreted it. 

   Selene insists that David take Eve and protect her as best he can while she fights off Quint in his über lycan form. Although both are aware that David is mortally wounded and will likely die within the hour, David agrees and takes the girl under his arm. He leads her farther into the Coven’s chambers, where there are fewest entrances and a greater chance of survival. 

   ****It should be noted that David immediately begins feel to the effects of the Lycan venom, as we see him limping down the hall with Eve in tow. He posture appears to be hunched over and babying his wounded side; this more than suggests that the effects are immediate---a direct contrast to the way Eve managed to survive over two hours, despite her having the exact same wound.

   David, Eve, and what remains of Thomas’s coven fight off Lycans that attempt to breach the inner chambers. Selene is subsequently defeated and knocked unconscious. Quint in his über lycan form continues through the Coven, dispatching stragglers as they attempt to fight or flee. 

   As Quint breaches the inner sanctum, David charges headfirst into direct conflict with the giant lycan. He sustains increasingly severe injuries as Quint bats him about for several long moments; such injuries include several broken ribs and a punctured lung. The assault ends with David broken and pinned beneath one of Quint’s paws as the Lycan prepares to tear David’s throat out.    The only thing that stops Quint from following through is Thomas’s intervention. It is here, with a knife at Eve’s throat, that the exchange is made: Thomas’s son and the rest of the coven undefiled for the hybrid girl in return. Quint transforms back into his human form, bloodied and black-eyed, and he agrees. He leaves David where he lays and collects Eve. He drags her away by the hair just as Selene comes to.

   When Selene finds David and Thomas, David is bleeding internally, struggling for breath, and suffering as the venom circulates a dangerous fever. All he manages is a single phrase: “They took her.” 

   David dies feeling a failure to Selene as well as being responsible for the deaths of his people and a disappointment to his father. 

[valouriism]

   “Is it true?” Father always insisted that he maintain a thorough study regiment, as leaders were expected to be well-read, well-mannered, and able to discern the facts from fiction. He would say that various source materials trained the eye to spot skewed information and wizened the heart against every sob story laid to bare before a leader’s feet. 

   Funny that despite his preaching, Father never sincerely cared for the truth in its entirety: only his truth as it suited the Coven’s livelihood best. History, it seemed, was destined to be written and re-written by the victors and the fear-mongers---facts be damned. 

   He wanted no part of it. What could he learn from dusty old relics sitting about on pedestals that he couldn’t better learn from a woman who promised no truth besides her own? 

   David has seen bits and pieces of Selene’s truth through memories---images that flit in his dreams like the beads from an unstrung necklace. David still struggles, sometimes, to pick up the pieces. 

  He hopes the endeavor doesn’t exhaust her patience. In the history books, Selene never knew  such self-restraint. Her Blood Memories seem, for once, to confirm recorded history. 

    “Sonja and Lucian---is their story true?” 

@vamprc // starter.

[valouriism]

"What do you need?" ( ♥ hybridiism. )

MEME | accepting

     “From you?” When David reached for her hand, he was grateful to find Eve had lingered near enough to touch. Sometimes he ached just looking at her. Some nights like this one, he ached even when he should not have; the evening’s gala failed to procure for him any entertainment worth mentioning. The opportunity to drink, to let his head grow thick with fog and quips for his peers, proved difficult for an Elder. The truth of the matter was he had no peers in this place: certainly none so long-lasting or sincere as her. 

   He would’ve liked to say that the benevolent leader he aimed to be demanded nothing from his people and targeted no one person to repeat the same, specific tasks. ‘Only human’ was a phrase that didn’t quite cut it by the technicality, but David’s pride never reached lengths high enough to make his father proud—admitting personal flaws came without struggle, without hesitation.       

     Was it a flaw, exactly, that he most often preferred Eve’s counsel to that of his Elder’s official circle? Who could fault him for confiding in someone who cared to listen, rather than in a team of elected bodies that’d always put the species first? Some would say perhaps and others, definitely so—if not for traditionalist attitudes then certainly for hard-lost prejudices against the girl, herself.

     Such archaic pigheadedness would require weeding out. Sooner, rather than later.      The smile he offered her was soft from an evening’s disuse, from a decade of banter and dances and quiet hours shared in her company alone.  “How generous are you feeling?” 

[valouriism]

diamond. ( ♥ hybridiism. )

MEME | accepting

    David’s three favorite places to have sexual adventures are in bed, in his office chair, or holding his partner up against the wall or some other hard surface. This is mostly in part due to his preference for putting his hands on a woman’s thighs or her breasts; these places give him easiest access to appreciate her in exactly the way he likes. He prefers the proximity these particular locations allow for him---not to mention, he isn’t entirely one for exhibitionism and public affairs. There are exceptions to every rule, of course, but these more liberal occurrences happen often when he least anticipates it---but that’s a headcanon for another time. 

( a sex headcanon )

[tylerknott]

I see fight in you, I see bravery unmatched. Let yourself see it.

Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)

[xprodigium]

‘ if we continue to live as we do now, then we disgrace the past and don’t deserve a future. ’ | DAVID.

hybrid. noble blood & a heart of gold. groomed for leadership, bound for glory. death before dishonor. don’t raise your voice; improve your argument. a sharp mind wielding gentle hands. war is always personal. quiet rebellion. stand & fight. to command is to serve. if not you, then who? always read the rules before you break them. learn from history. pupil. mentor. more than a birthright. turn another page. protect her to your last breath. a boy-king lives beside his people. —— commander & elder  ☽  the eastern coven.

[sugarbbqp-deactivated20180430]

Hand holding during sex, that’s that good shit

[valouriism]

@theboatbuilderswife​

    David never knew he could hate the cold so much. His father’s Coven had threatened more than once to burst at the seams and drown them out like rats, but they’d made do. The floors had been perpetually slippery, the draperies damp and torn in odd places, and the pots and bowls lined across certain stairwells required emptying often enough. Now, David supposed it was just a tomb of old relics, a graveyard for Immortals of both species lying beneath algae-grown rubble.

    But this? Var Dhor brought within its walls a whole new definition to ‘icy fortress.’ How the native Vampires of this Coven could stand to walk around in ribbons for clothes---and barefoot more often than otherwise? David shook his head and flexed his fingers for warmth, turning away from a window so crooked that it must’ve been hand-carved. He greeted the other with a sigh, and watched the heat from his breath rise toward the stone ceiling.

   “Thank you for seeing me.” The Elder rubbed the nape of his neck, uncertain for the greeting, for the lack of an extended hand. It’d been quite the while since he’d been required to mind Coven etiquette. And the Nordic Coven? This place was a wild card of its own. 

    “How is she?”

[valouriism]

[Eve.] 

❛ i’m sorry. ❜  it was all she could think to say – primarily because this wasn’t his problem, or part of his job description, but she couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. but no, that wasn’t quite true, was it? she could have gone some place ( anywhere else, a hotel even ) but the first person she thought of was David.

it always was.

( he was good that way. )

‘ i – i uh, had to leave a party,’  she said by way of explanation, smoothing a hand down the front of her skirt self-consciously. she offered him a small, quick smile – and tucked a curl of rain-dampened hair back behind her ear.  ‘ i was going to go home – but i told mother i’d be staying with a friend for a few days and lucian’s over for the weekend, and…’  she trailed off, unsure how to explain just how much she did not want to interrupt her parents. finally, at a loss, she peeked up at him, only just stopping herself before she caught her lower lip between her teeth nervously.

‘ could i maybe – stay here for a while? ’

  It was often said that a city never sleeps, but come the swell of three a.m., one might find just how haunting those stretched office buildings looked in the distance, lit up from every floor from lobby to board room suite. A honeycomb of empty cubicles with neither queen nor a single drone in sight told the odd sort of tale: one either had a home to go to, or nowhere else at all. 

   If a city never slept, then neither did men who climbed the inner scaffolding of the corporate empires woven beneath it. David wished it were possible to say that when the doorbell chimed, his dreams were free of acquisitions and mergers, of rosters and RSVP’s for galas upcoming. He wished he could say he had been dreaming. Of anything.

   A bedroom view of the river splattered with fog-hazed lights could be considered a respite for some. Tonight it only served to remind of his own wakefulness, the stacked folders occupying the right side of his bed --- and the uncertainty if he weren’t dreaming after all. He must’ve imagined it; not even Selene, with her ongoing affair between Lucian and work, would have come beating down his door this early.    When the door chimed again, David slouched up from his bed, ruffled and unhappily wide awake. He supposed he could’ve answered the door with a little more propriety. Of anyone, he hadn’t been expecting her.

     “Eve.” An yes or no should’ve sufficed, but nothing was ever so simple between the two of them. One look at her --- at pinched lip beneath her teeth, the aimless, haphazard brush to smooth her still-matted skirt --- said more than her mouth could, and the explanation that followed revealed very little.

   His mouth turned down at the corners, and his chest rose and fell with a quiet, resigned sigh. When he drew back to let her in, David turned and slipped down the hall with a soft, “Wait here.” He returned a minute later with a large, fluffed towel unfolded between both hands.

   David sighed again, this time soundless and even through his nose. He latched the door and stepped close, near enough to feel the chill dripping off her, and squeezed the ends of her hair within the towel. David rubbed at her jaw. Shoulders. Forearms. The tips of her fingers, turned pink from the cold.     “Where did you say this party was?” 

[stoicremains-deactivated2017102]

He saw her before he saw anything else in the room.

F. Scott Fitzgerald (via kvtes)

[valouriism]

Underworld: Blood Wars meme

"I've lived beyond my time."

"I don't need you."

"This is different."

"I need you to deliver a message."

"There has been too much death."

"I genuinely fear for our future."

"I am not a mind reader."

"I need you to be my ally on this."

"The least you can do is attempt to sound reassuring."

"I'm going to attempt not to kill you."

"You cannot expect me to believe that."

"Times change."

"It has been entirely my pleasure."

"Well, the interest is certainly not mutual."

"I am more than capable."

"You are merely adequate."

"Don't think. You'll hurt yourself."

"There are other ways to prove your devotion."

"How many have you killed?"

"Perhaps you'll indulge me."

"Did you honestly believe I would forgive you?"

"Their blood is on your hands."

"It's strange to lose someone you feel like you never really knew."

"Nothing good has come to anyone I love."

"You're family. And you're all I have left."

"It must run its course."

"We do as we wish, not as others would have us do."

"What do you need?"

"It seems it is the curse of every parent to disappoint their child."

"I have seen so much war. So much killing."

"I'm running out of time."

"Either you have it all..or you have nothing."

"You can still be forgiven."

"I no longer fear death."

[affectionsuggestion]

Tell me about the book you’re reading while I kiss your neck

[lifeinpoetry]

The words turn blue waiting in your mouth.

Tracy Dimond, from “Breaking Lines,” Sorry I Wrote So Many Sad Poems Today (via lifeinpoetry)

[n7peach-deactivated20170412]

Tender-hearted heroes are so important to me.

Heroes that are soft-spoken and kind, that want nothing more than to take care of everyone.

Heroes that are sweet and good, that always leave folks smiling in their wake.

Heroes that see good in everyone, who want to be good to everyone.

Heroes that are gentle and compassionate, that wish to share the boundless joy in their hearts with the world.

[uptional]

[musepirations]

inspodior:

I N S P O D I O R

[valouriism]

obsidian. ( ♥ hybridiism. )

MEME | accepting

       It is a credit to his patience and long-mastered prudence that few could ever really guess the answer to this little quirk, were it ever brought up in real time conversation. The product of a rigid upbringing with the way paved for leadership and his own self-driven motivations, David has no time for accepting shortcomings as they are. If goodness is close to godliness ( which he does not and never would claim or strive to be --- consider it a colloquialism he’s associated with his father ), then to be ‘good’ encompasses being the best you can be. In all walks and aspects of a theoretically immortal life.       Some might be led to believe that his sin is that of Pride. To strive for excellence is typically a product of hubris; to surpass others is made in effort to surpass ad challenge oneself. But in truth, David’s aim for excellence is founded upon a need for service. Serving others to the best of one’s ability. Being capable in any way that another needs. Being useful, being not only willing but able to contribute wherever it is required.       No, David’s sin is rooted squarely in the field of Wrath. Hot-headed by nature, David sees what is the right thing to do as the only proper option; anything else is a waste of resources, a waste of time, a waste of energy and fear. It angers him to see people idle by when they are capable of influencing something more, something better. Why hold power if one is unwilling to use it to its fullest?       More than this, David’s relationship with his father especially has been a long and volatile one. Groomed from childhood for something greater than himself, David holds a lot of unspoken bitterness in feeling like the result of a pet project out of his control --- rather than a nurturing and encouraging home environment. He can be quick to anger in this regard, and in any instance which reminds him of years spent wriggling out from beneath a heavy thumb. Any time in which he feels himself or others are being treated as less than they have earned or innately deserve, David is quick to snap his teeth or scold the offender.       It is only from years of holding his tongue before his father that David does not lash out as often as he could, as he learned from an early age that temper tantrums accomplish little in the way of getting the desired effect. David learned early on that taking the proverbial high ground and getting the job done oneself, even in spite of authority, is most effective and most satisfying.        Of course, it should be understood that even David has a threshold, however high it might be, that would behoove one not to cross. Depending on the severity of the offense, the consequences range anywhere from verbal to physical assault. There is, however, only one true way to incite violence from the man --- and that is to threaten or defame Eve in any way, shape, or form.     ( which of the seven deadly sins my muse would be )

[valouriism]

( meta ) ; the first time David ever catches himself l o o k i n g at Eve, as a woman and not as his charge; what was going on, what was he thinking, how did he feel? B)))

MEME | accepting

   Truthfully, David cannot name a definitive ‘first time’ he looked at Eve this way. Acknowledging his feelings for her did not come all at once, but in a multitude of instances here and there — and we all very well know how stubbornly he worked to keep their relationship’s intimacy an appropriate one. Long after he’d begun to ache and want for her, the desires alone were ( for a time ) not enough for him to step forward and claim it. There is something to be said in the way David taught E v e to take her place in the world, to pursue her desires and accept nothing less — while denying himself the same.    Some were minor things — things he never quite took for granted but in one time or another became invariably aware of in altered light. One such realization came in sacrosanct hours of the library, when Eve shifting to get comfortable saw her legs haphazardly laid across his own; half-caught between his book and in the familiarity of a thing, David’s hand slid warmly along her knee, then a few centimeters higher. Turning the page never seemed a more difficult reprieve. ( He touches her like he has the right to ).    Others formed from quiet indulgences kept perfectly close to his chest. Increasingly he and Eve ventured off together, usually somewhere close by — but there were occasional bouts when such trips spanned a weekend or longer. After a time, Eve became more than charge, and he more than her keeper. They were friends --- even then the word always seemed ill-fitted --- and David found himself looking forward to their time spent together: not in training, not tucked away in plain sight — but alone. Whether they took to the city or to the wilds with equal fervor, it was simple. David, and Eve with her camera, and a comfortable silence bisected only by the click, click, click, of a shutter, and soft tones beckoning him to look. ( He likes the way she says his name. )         David has, from the very beginning, taken a sort of voyeuristic pleasure in seeing Eve indulge in food or drink. One of many gifts that the singularity of her bloodline granted her, it is an experience he knows he can never himself live. Except here. Here he can and does live for the vicarious opportunities. Truly, this was not always as insinuating as it sounds. He cherished these moments  for the simple enjoyment to burst like starshine across her face: even when Eve found herself ill-favored to one taste or another, David took great love in being able to share in just another adventure. It was not until much, much later: when a flicker of tongue licking sugar from her mouth accompanied fleeting looks behind her lashes; when lips wrapped around the head of a beer bottle drew his gaze and intrigue much lower. ( He wonders how her mouth tastes. )       And what of her happiness? Perhaps at the risk of sounding a little smitten and cliche, David is never as greatly rewarded than when Eve enjoys herself, without fear for judgment. Let him recount endless nights when she dragged him half-asleep by the sleeve, appealing that he come, come see. Come with her to the top of the spire there, and watch the lightning storm. Tell her, has he ever seen a flock of birds so large as this? The Pack kicked them up a number of minutes ago and--- has he ever seen them hover that way before? An evening dotted in a thousand wings; the sky moving and rolling and roaring like the ocean. Yes--countless times she’d asked him to look, to stand with her and watch --- and so often David’s gaze instead fixated on her upturned features, soft and curious with gentle wonderment. ( He aches just looking at her. ) 

   And, of course, there were those moments far more difficult to deny, when later years saw Eve growing bolder beneath her lashes, with her hands dared to just cross the line. He was never blind to her as she grew within her own skin, her own ability. He was not alone in that. Other men followed her with their eyes, human and Lycan both --- and the way their gazes lingered too long was near enough for him to snap his teeth. But the men? They are secondary, entirely, to the problem Eve herself presents. She is the sort of problematic a man should be eager to have: beautiful, curious and wanting and soft, shameless in the way she colors, in the way she scents after a spar. He wonders why she always has to run off so soon, wonders if she would feel so light sitting astride him for real, not on the sparring mat but in her bed ---  ( He dreams of the way she moans. )