of sinners and saints,

SERPENTINE VEINS OF BLUE AND PURPLE ALIGN HIS INNER WRISTS, LONGING TO TRACE MY FINGERTIPS ALONG EVERY SWIRL HOPING IT WOULD LEAD ME TO HIS HEART. - - - - private mumu penned by vic

[underragingwaves]

[w-reckeds]

frcstandstarlight​:

‣‣‣

Had he lived a different life, been born to a different court, perhaps things would have changed between Odessa and himself years ago. If he had been born in the thralls of Spring or Summer, bathing in a ray of warmth and light with the salty sea clinging to his skin, instead of the shadows that grew and curled around the membranous wings that stretched from his spine. Darkness and cruelty was all he knew, from the moment he was thrust into the inhospitable lands of the Illyrian war camps, the only scent that he radiated was the blood of his enemies, and for that, there were many. Bringing a fae such as the female before him into such a life would only lead way danger and despair, she was safer within the comforts of her own Court, from him and from others. Another time, if his loyalty wasn’t woven so deep into that of the Night Court, he could have joined her as mates, they wouldn’t have spent the last twenty-five years playing this same song and dance. His fingers could be woven throughout her hair, rough lips against skin so soft and supple, he could give into this incessant bond, live, love. But that, was just the dream of a fool, especially with war soon to be on the horizon. 

The shadows were like dark tendrils of smoke, rippling around him within the soft glow of the candlelight, his lips pressed together in a hard line, the angle of his jaw sharpening as his teeth gnashed together. To escort better men. If it meant he wouldn’t feel the constant tug on the thread that tied them together, if it meant he wouldn’t find himself searching for her in a crowded room when his thoughts, his gaze was supposed to be elsewhere, he would. He would, he would, he would, but by the Mother he was damned, for it didn’t matter what he did, he couldn’t block her out, not completely and the visual she so carefully crafted within his mind sent a snarl ripping from his throat. That animalistic part of him that laid simmering just beneath the surface, the one that wanted nothing more than to lay claim to Odessa, the one that echoed mine, a curse and a prayer in the form of one little world, reared its ugly head, the span of his wings flaring within the room that felt instantly smaller. “ Is that what you want? “ Venom lacing his words as he spat them out as if he didn’t get them out fast enough he would choke on them. “ Bring him here so he can fuck you? So you can put on a show? Is that what gets you off Odessa? “ 

›.

There had been a time once when Odessa thought nothing but the best of Mates; unrealistically aiming for the perfection only told in long tales by the fire so young faelings could be ooh and awed with the sweet expectations of this ‘sacred bond’ and all the ‘good’ that could come from it. She had been reassured countlessly over the years that she’d be lucky enough to find one herself, lucky enough that there’d be someone out there who’d love her just as much as she’d love them. 

All lies spun by old Nans, of course, as all mating was, and always will be, a joke gifted by The Mother and it seemed as though fate had an awful sense of humor. How else was she to explain this twenty-five year run with the male before her as anything but? How else was she to explain this catastrophe of being tethered to someone so insufferable and still feel deeply and desperately for them all the same?

So in the same breath that it took to send the shadowsinger’s wings flaring, Odessa dug her nails so deep into her palms that they revealed half-moons in their wake. Bring him here so he can fuck you? She risked taking a step forward, blue eyes wild and searching as if almost daring him to say another ill word. So you can put on a show? Is that what gets you off? The shadows that often caressed his wings seemed to be shaking he looked so angry and Odessa was trying hard not to revel in it out of spite, though soon she laughed something cold and harsh to follow, each peal hallow and mocking as she grappled with that was happening before her. Her gaze turned incredulous, “And what’re you to do if I said that it did?” Nothing, the word echoed, You would do nothing, and she moved with another step, this time pressing forward close enough to touch. Had someone been looking in and the scene would have appeared almost intimate. To Odessa, she likened it to ensnarement, poking two fingers deep into his chest and speaking low. “I should you let you watch me wilt under him as you sulk with a hand to yourself in the shadows of your own making just for saying that.” She pressed her fingers into him once again, taunting him with this practiced ease he should have seen coming. All decorum lost as she kept close, looking up to him through dark lashes. “Now ask me a stupid question like that again.”

[w-reckeds]

                                                    MAVERICK LAVERREN

the fire in my blood is both a blessing and a curse. for i will always need something to burn. 

HIGH LORD OF AUTUMN, unfortunately ! 

i was supposed to have this up days ago when we were discussing sigils? i actually can’t remember if it was sigils or if we were just talking about animals that represent the families/courts? idk! something like that! anyways, i saw this pic of a grizzly on pinterest and went /maverick/. So here we are.

[w-reckeds]

frcstandstarlight​:

‣‣‣

If part of her world hadn’t just been shattered she might have thought this whole situation amusing. A woman who normally revelled in the freedom and comforts of being alone practically begging a faerie to not leave her on her own. Clutching to him like he was the last tether to sanity that she had. But in the blink of an eye, it had been, and despite the annoyance that so easily coloured her features in the presence of the High Lord, she wasn’t sure what state she would be in left to her own devices. A crumpled mass on the floor seemed likely, and once the sobs ripped free from her chest and tears stained her cheeks, despair building a home out of the hollow of her bones, what would be left? A weak, scared, sad excuse for a girl, and that was something Elowyn refused to succumb to. So she stood, at a loss for words with a bleak gaze, holding on to whatever she could to keep from falling apart. 

Rest. The word clanged through her mind. Exhaustion may have weighed heavily on the woman but she didn’t need to imagine what she would see if she closed her eyes, the scene was one that was carved into the backs of her eyelids like a picture in motion. White streaked with red, pale flesh scattered throughout, lifeless eyes staring at the colourless sky up above. There would be no resting. Her mouth opened but the only sound that came was her breath hitching in her chest when the warmth of his words caressed her skin. Gooseflesh dotted her arms, making the fine hairs stand on end as a chill ran along the length of her spine, despite the warmer climate the Autumn Court had to offer. Her tongue snaked out, trailing along the curves of her lips as she wet them. To forget. That was what she needed, what she craved - but to voice it… Elowyn would settle for trying to rip the frozen claws of the Court of Winter from where it had pierced her skin. “ A bath. “ She told him, lifting her gaze to meet his. “ A bath will do. “ 

›.

Maverick eased them forward into a walk across the room following her answer, a heavy hand still braced on her forearm as he lead them deeper into his chambers and beyond a wooden door that hid a personal bathing room. Streaks of golden sunlight leaked through glass windows, bathing everything from the large bronze tub at its center to its surrounding fur rugs in a warm autumn glow. He could have called on someone to pull the velvet drapes down and begin steaming water for El’s pleasure, but the High Lord did neither as he decidedly took both tasks upon himself, eager to coax the woman he was hosting out of any and all bad memories still held from that gruesome scene in the gardens whilst she had a foot on his lands. She was safe here, and he wanted her realize that. Believe that. Safe and alive. Breathing and steady. He couldn’t make promises about finding out who had did this to her father, nor could he say anything that would make her feel more at ease when death left such heavy footprints in each life it had touched. It would take her time and time he would give her until she was ready. Sympathy wasn’t a familiar feeling he often shared and he was wise to think better of it than to pity the woman who had just a few hours prior pulled a knife out on him. She was strong, and he forced himself believe that despite his internal stubbornness with her. For now, he’d wait on her until she was ready. A task he was willing to do dutifully, for reasons he couldn’t quite understand.

“We’ve got salts and soaks,” Nothing like the ones they sold in the Spring Court that smelled of lilac and linen, but ones similar to the scents that clung to him that smelled of apple and clove to show the warmth of autumn as his voice leveled into a coo. “I can find bubbles, if that pleases you.” And though the offer was meant jokingly, Mav rubbed delicate circles onto her skin as he spoke and walked, leading her around and showing her little things here and there before approaching a large armoire off in its own corner. He had noticed the sheer slip of dark fabric that had covered her skin before they had even set foot in Falkwreath and had made note to get her changed after they arrived. Time had slipped from him since, attention preoccupied on the one wearing the slip verses the sheer slip itself. But now, with lazy morning sunlight doing work to show him just how clear he could see her, Maverick was doing just about everything to make sure his gaze didn’t travel any lower that her collarbone and into uncharted territory. “I could get you a robe, let you change while I leave.” She had asked him to stay, but to the extent, he did not know and was willing to step out if needed, for privacy. Though that did about nothing to hide the tease that managed to slip from him as he let his hand travel from forearm to shoulder, moving behind her so that he could still keep close and whisper. “Though I’m not sure how I feel about allowing a woman who tried to pull a knife out on me walk so freely in my chambers. I should have you answer to that while you’re here.” 

[w-reckeds]

sunstrvck​:

.

He was close enough to draw her fingers out, touching the back of his knuckles— she could feel the places that the skin had split and roughly restitched, creating a map work of pain and scarred flesh. Anything word building had to be broken first, she had heard a general shout it over his league of soldiers: Illyrians wore their damage like a badge. “Is that what you think of me?” Dark eyes flicked up, almond shaped and laughing, “That I’m a fool?” Oveido no longer trusted her, but she remembered how he had. His trust had been pliable in her hands, his love was like a reed: it had been his fault for placing it in the care of a woman known for being careless with her playthings. She missed it, from time to time, the sweet idolatry that he had once offered her without cost.

The hand shifted, circling him instead. “You ask questions, but never what you really want to know. That is your downfall Oveido, you lack the courage to be direct.”

She paused in front of him, halting her act of a carrion bird to consider. “I have served this court for as long as the histories and memories stretch on. From the first Night, to the first Daybreak and Snowfall, I have served every High Lord and Lady that has sat at the helm and in the halls of the Hollow Keep, and I have done so dutifully.” Daeva continued her steps, the click of her heels echoing through the chamber, empty save for them. “I remember when Iseult was born, a daughter after three sons, inheriting nothing. You had not even been born yet, the world had not even considered ever holding you.” Her attention was sharp, but the hand that drew along the ridge of his wings was gentle. “She stole her destiny, she plucked it from the world and has carved her future into the backs of men who would have stepped over her for their own gain. I serve her with pride,” Daeva’s head canted, and blonde hair shifted to one side of her neck. “My loyalty is unwavering, but often I wonder about yours.” A beat paused, and her smile shifted— too many teeth, all of them sharp. “Ask what you wish to ask, Oveido. I won’t lie to you.”

›.

There were many things that came to mind when Oveido thought of Daeva, yet a fool was not the given name for any of them. The woman that stood before him was a divine creation beyond his knowledge; someone dangerous and calculating with more venom hidden beneath their speech than the most deadliest viper. He both feared and admired her, this figure of chaos personified, and he hated every inch of himself for it. Hated the way his mind worked whenever she’d come about. Hated the way she made him feel, made him think. He even hated the way she lingered ghostlike in the pockets of his mind even when she wasn’t there and all he had left to feed on was their distant memories that now felt like dreams. But the one thing he hated most of all was the very fact that he couldn’t find it within himself to hate her at all. Heart heavy at the thought, there was only one fool standing with them and it certainly wasn’t her.

You ask questions, but never what you really want to know. That is your downfall Oveido, you lack the courage to be direct.

It was the burn of her honesty that pulled him from himself, brown eyes searching over similar hues for anything hidden beneath her words that might indicate something more than she allowed herself to say. He hadn’t noticed the shift in her stance now that she had moved before him, circling around like a predator and talking down to him like he was nothing more than a fly caught under her boot. Oveido felt his wings shift in emphasis the deeper her words cut into him, gooseflesh settling on the skin of his arms as she lingered a touch. Gentle. Soft. Could have melted right there with little to no care in the world under her weight, and yet...

Oveido, now remembering where he was and who he was with, bristled his wings before she could get too comfortable. Before he could get too comfortable. “I’m sorry, did I ask for a brief history of the Court of Night?” Daeva could go on and on about the histories for as long as she’d liked, talk to down to him and whoever else got the unfortunate task of being in her way. She could outstretch her knowledge on these lands, these Courts, these people and still make sure she insulted him in the process. But that wasn’t what he was here for. That wasn’t what he wanted. “All this is telling me is that you’ve been around for as long as the Sun has been turning and have done nothing to show for it,” Inky black strands of his hair moved with the shake of his head, the tsk of his tongue. “Nothing but show how much loyalty you’ve yielded over centuries of your life when I used to believe you something akin to a God.” And I’ve been proven wrong ever since. He did not speak the words as they shot down the bond, his attempt to sidestep her shortly following. She was right, about her unwavering loyalty and the lack of his. She was right to think there was something missing there when he was beginning to feel it, too, but he didn’t dare voice it, didn’t dare think into it. He was an Illyrian warrior, a member to one of the strongest Courts in the realm. He knew his loyalty should have been just as unwavering and it burned him as he refocused on Deava to realize that it wasn’t. “I have no nothing more to ask of you. I think you’ve said enough.” 

[w-reckeds]

                                                DAEVA &. OVEIDO.

                                         one man’s monster is another man’s beloved.

( what if. she is both monster and beloved, then what !! - sam ) 

no reason for me to make or post this yet here i am !! 

i have never read this book before but now im feeling like i should because it seems like the quotes are niiiiiioce. i really just wanted this up to show how much of a simp i am for these two idiots. 

it’s also important to note that i made this whilst juvenile’s back that azz up was playing in the background. sometimes i’m so unserious. 

[fruitface]

[w-reckeds]

fruitface​:

jade is stressed tf out

[lauwrite1225]

i have thoughts

[derangedrhythms]

Anna Akhmatova,  20th Century Russian Poetry: Silver and Steel, from ‘The Sentence’, tr. Stanley Kunitz with Max Hayward

[w-reckeds]

›     OPEN ( to day court bc edric is annoying :/ ) ​

›     MORNING AFTER WINTER SOLSTICE  

“Do you care to place a wager?” How long they’d been waiting around for more word on what was happening on the few floors below and in the gardens of the castle, Edric truly didn’t know. Time had been dragging ever since he’d awaken this morning to with this news he’d never in a century thought he would hear. The precious mortal king was dead. Murdered, in the middle of the night. And judging by the stories he managed to hear before being ordered back to the rooms for ‘safety’,....Edric didn’t even want to think about what the body must have looked like in that beautiful ice garden down below. However, he did have other curiosities on the matter. “Which Court do you think was stupid enough to do this?” The Master of Coin spoke quietly behind his hand in secret, his body angled into a lean. A beat later, he pulled away and straightened like he hadn’t said anything at all, cutting the other off with a warning shot. “And before you give me some horrid look, you can’t tell me this isn’t the most interesting thing to have happened to you this entire trip.” While the celebration was lovely there certainly wasn’t anything admirable about it that he could go back to Auridon with to brag about to others that hadn’t already happened in the last hundred or so years. Now he was in the midst of a tragedy. The other members of court who simply couldn’t be here would just be eating gossip out of his palms for weeks. “At least now we’ll get a good story out of it when we undoubtedly head back home to Auridon.” Where they all should have been to begin with instead of on this Mother forsaken frozen land, but that was a comment for another conversation. “So?”

[talesfromthecrypts]

[w-reckeds]

talesfromthecrypts​:

Erin Kellyman as Jade in Willow “The Battle of the Slaughtered Lamb”

[w-reckeds]

›     ILENIA BARAZE, @oldgcds​

›     MORNING AFTER WINTER SOLSTICE  

Find Ilenia. Go to Cassian’s. Do not go to back to the mortal realm. Wait. Find Ilenia...

He had been repeating Cassian’s instructions ever since they spoke, body still tense from the unexpected early rise as he elbowed himself through the halls and through the crowds of panicked faces. Find Ilenia. Go to Cassian’s. It was bold of the general to place so much responsibility on him and Nic had been making mental notes ever since to talk it over with him about never making that decision again as he climbed up a set of spiraling stone stairs by twos and then back down again by threes once he realized he couldn’t spot Len anywhere. Do not go to back to the mortal realm. It was too much, and if he didn’t care for the human princess as much he currently did, Nic likely would have considered playing off this whole plan by his own forgetfulness. But something in him had surged at Cassian’s warning, something that clenched to him that felt like panic...or fear. Not being able to spot that familiar head of brown hair in the crowd didn’t help the matter, either. Find Ilenia. The words had echoed within, his breathing coming out in short spurts. What would happen if he couldn’t? Would he met with a similar story of death of another murdered royal? Nic tried to shake the thought from him as he panted, entering another newer hall all while trying to remind himself that Len was good. That she’d be safe somewhere waiting for him to join her. 

And to his surprise, as if luck had somehow just been bestowed on him, there came Len heading right his way. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” And he wished he was being dramatic about that as he greeted her with a hand outstretched to take hers. “We need to go,” Though he didn’t know where or how exactly, and in a weak attempt to offer an explanation, a certain general’s name rolled from off his tongue as he leaned in, his voice now a low whisper. “Cassian doesn’t think its safe for us to be here, and while I’d hate to agree....” Nic couldn’t find reason to object after a human king had been decidedly chopped. “I think its best we do.”

[w-reckeds]

›     ELÉA LAVERREN, @starsaligncd​

›     MORNING AFTER WINTER SOLSTICE

“I need you to pack your things. You’re leaving.” It wasn’t the greet he had wished to give his baby sister this late morning, nor was it the type of discussion he planned on having when she should have been in bed resting and soaking up the rest of her days in blissful celebrations following the Winter Solstice, but ever since his leave this morning there had been this constant concern festering in the back of his mind that he couldn’t seem to shake. He had placed his trust in the hands of his war general, Eléa’s safety a priority for them both,  and while he trusted Gavriel to keep her out of harms way and out of this mess they’ve all been brought into whilst he was away, Maverick knew he’d relax as best as he could knowing the youngest of the Laverren’s was no where on this frozen land while tension and suspicion rose around them over the death of this mortal king. “—Gavriel will be waiting to take you home and I want you to stay there until I return. I don’t want you here in the middle of all this.” 

[artandchocolate]

Jane Austen - "Sense and Sensibility"

[underragingwaves]

[w-reckeds]

faeteds​:

for: maverick laverren / @w-reckeds​

Bloodshed at a party. That had certainly send all the little courtiers spiraling. The scene was purportedly shocking as much as it was gruesome, not that Safine had laid eyes on the carnage herself. She had been blissfully, pleasantly asleep under a pile of warm furs, only roused by the sound of fussing in the outer halls. It certainly did not take long to pry the news from a passerby, this newest piece of gossip already swift to travel along the lips of every new person it touched. The mortal king, dead in the snow, came one whisper. I heard his eyes were gone from his head, were the words of a low ducked head in a gaggle of women, a wild sort of look in their gaze, as if the perpetrator might stand around the corner listening. His eyes weren’t the only thing gone, Marya said he’d been ripped to shreds. It was so easy to sit back and listen, collect knowledge like raindrops in a pail — not even Safine’s job, but a skill she had long ago acquired nonetheless from her time amongst courts. It did not particularly serve her, but the fae was loath to ever feel as if she were standing on the other side of the glass, left out of the conversations at hand. Not when gossip could be so valuable of trade, at the right time and place.

But she cannot dally for too long. Because Safine well aware of her real place in all of this, and that is at Lady Elea’s side, to stand with her chosen court as both a show of strength and to offer comfort of this no doubt horrendous news. It’s none too hard to find them, the royal family of Autumn, all gathered together the way she imagines most courts have been. The presumption of safety. She’s let inside only by the recognition of the Autumn guards, slinking her way across the room and over to Elea’s side, like all her other ladies. Propriety would see her remain there, seated and bored and offering placating words to soothe any worries, but instead Safine’s eyes cast in the direction of her High Lord. She cannot help but study his profile, wonder about the gears that must be turning inside his head in the face of such an event. How would he handle it, were it his own court? Curiosity has always been a vice of the brunette’s, one could say it’s led her into trouble more oft than not, but she chooses to indulge it frequently nonetheless. At least this time, it is within relative safety. 

“My Lord,” she offers a curtesy, customary to the respect of his station. It’s an act she’s perfected, after a lifetime spent at court. “It is good fortune to see you and yours entirely safe.” All of the Laverrens are accounted for, so if the assassin intends to strike again, it doesn’t appear to be here. If anything, Safine wagers that the human nobility are the ones that should perhaps be watching for moving shadows. “It was quite a gruesome end, after such a lovely party.” She herself had her fair share of wine, indulging of the revelry of the evening. Everyone had let their guard down, which is perhaps the fatal flaw, making easy marks for an assassin to strike. “I confess, a part of me is concerned at the thought that perhaps this has been in motion for awhile.” And that it might not be the only play in the works right now. Upheaval is the best time to make moves, after all. And such a display does not give the impression of a one-off. But even so, she only intends to probe to see where his thoughts lay, not reveal all of her own. 

›.

This was always the part of his job and title that he hated the most, this whole oversight of his court while there were murmurs of chaos and duress on the rise. Pieces of him from time to time often worried that it was too much to bare for one person, that being a High Lord was scheme not meant for those more fit for the wildness of a hunt than the uncomfortable stiffness of a throne chair. But it was something Maverick bared, sometimes out of his own pride, if only for the sake of his family name and the legacy they shared through Autumn Court. He was made for this, his brothers and sister at his side and the support of their court behind them through whatever storm came forth as he made hefty promises made to his people to ensure the safety and protection they deserved.

But how could he make such promises when danger lurked outside the walls of their capital? How was he supposed to explain to his people that the word he promised for their safety and enjoyment on an allying land was nothing short of false when a man gets murdered? A king, rather. Hours had gone by from the events that had unfolded and Maverick still couldn’t put a finger on the who or the why. Humans were of little interest to him as he sure they were to the next, so why pull such a trick? If he could remember correctly, the mortal king was just another face in a sea of others. He had no pull in any of the seasonal or solar courts, had no weight to stand on in defense, either. Mortals lived and died and rot under the sun in years short of a century. They were nonthreatening. Easy enough to target. Whoever held their distaste of them must also hold some sort of grudge and in the back of his whirling mind Maverick couldn’t help but think of the act as weak. Petty. Avoidable. If he had to guess, he’d assume this all to be a call of attention instead of an act of war. But, really, through all his years of living, he’d water down the two as one in the same.

For now, while his court waited and his guards stood tall around them, his concern was only for his youngest sibling. His baby sister and her safety. Discussion had already been made that Gavriel would escort her back to the familiarity of their lands while he and his brothers remained here within Silvenar until more sense of the mess that’s made had been discussed with those of importance within Winter Court and whether or not war was in the horizon for them all. And as likely as the latter answer stood, Maverick’s gaze shifted from one member of his court to another; a brunette with her own steely gaze caught on his followed up with a proper curtesy. Good speech, lovely as she was poised. One of his sister’s ladies, he assumed by the closeness in which they stood, and he found himself excusing a prior conversation in favor of a new one.

Indeed it was good fortune that he and his were all safe, a returned nod to show that he was thankful for her words before taking hold of the next. It was quite a gruesome end, after such a lovely party. “Tell me you didn’t witness it.” He hoped that she hadn’t. Hoped she didn’t have the misfortune of ending this trip with the sight so gruesome even he couldn’t stomach it. He didn’t need to hear of more people in his court experiencing something so vile when they should have spent their snow-fallen morning enjoying the last of this venture. A glance to Elèa made him shift and Maverick turned more closely to her lady so that their conversation wouldn’t pick up on his sister’s ears, his forearm extended so that the other could walk with him and talk in peace of this concern that weighed her. It intrigued him, these thoughts she possessed and for once it felt like he was speaking to someone who’d give him honesty rather than just saying whatever was appropriate to appease him. “Walk with me.” More of a request than an order. It wasn’t often he got the chance to pick the mind of those within his court and missing an opportunity to do so felt almost...wasteful. Especially if her suspicions matched his own. “I’d like to hear more about you have to say, Lady.....?”

[flowerytale]

Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Abiah Root