Ruetto, Sai'Bariel, Deneranth, Denastien
Anonymous said: I love how you write Ruetto. She has struggles and some very definite flaws, which make her a very realistic character. Denastien makes me want to strangle and hug him at the same time and Denauriel is one sexy hunk of manbeast. Denerath, well, he was an evil sumbitch who got what was coming to him. >D@1 month ago
@1 month ago with 8079 notes
This could be very interesting. Let the love-fest commence! Good feels all around. ♡
|"Are we really doing this?"|
|"Are you doing this to upset me?"|
|"Friends don't look at each other like that."|
|"Give me a chance."|
|"I am not doing that."|
|"I can prove you wrong."|
|"I can show you the world."|
|"I did a bad thing."|
|"I don't want to love you, but I do."|
|"I missed you."|
|"I regret last night."|
|"I think we can pull through."|
|"I think you need to get in my bed. Now."|
|"I thought you were gone forever."|
|"I want you naked. Now."|
|"I'm a bad person."|
|"I'm breaking up with you."|
|"I'm not who you think I am."|
|"If you and I were the only two people alive on the planet, I still wouldn't have sex you."|
|"Please, don't do this."|
|"Stop yelling at me."|
|"That outfit would look better on my bedroom floor."|
|"There is no one I hate more than you."|
|"This is not fair."|
|"This is not the time nor place."|
|"We are not getting a pet."|
|"We can't do this anymore."|
|"What are you doing?"|
|"Who do you think you are?"|
|"Why are you doing this to me?"|
|"Why aren't you answering my calls?"|
|"You shouldn't have done that."|
|"You'll regret this."|
|"You're being inappropriate."|
|"You're the one person I actually trust."|
Nearly engulfed by cushions and embroidered sheets, Denastien rolled about in bed, skewing the cool silks as they twisted around his slight form. He’d done nearly everything he thought he could to ease his head ache; his temples felt like small sirens, blaring off high pitched frequencies that made his forehead feel pinched and under pressure. He’d slept feverishly, some inconvenience or another keeping him from properly falling asleep. There was little he could do to get comfortable in the midst of all this comfort; awash in luxuries even this smaller home could afford while the manor was in preparation.
Denastien sat up with a small whine, setting a hand over his forehead and brushing away the golden curls that stuck to his skin with perspiration. Lithe fingers grasped for the robe that hung from a bed poster and he swept it about himself, standing and waiting for a moment of vertigo to pass. An unsettled feeling lingered as the room stopped tilting, the return of equilibrium not quite giving him the grounded sense he was hoping for. His ears were hot, tingling and sharply, his head turned, brilliant eyes homing in on where the disturbance came from. He brushed past the vanity mirror, tying his hair away from the back of his damp neck as he left his room and tore down the hallway.
"Denauriel, I need you." He called, giving no other warning as he opened the door to his brother’s room. An open window allowed for an otherwise uninvited warm breeze to pass through the brotherless room. Denastien approached the window with a paling face, stopping just short of it, a gleam catching his eye, directing his attention to the floor. Silk robes rustled as he stooped down ( much to the complaint of his pulsing temples ) to grasp the shiny item, a beautiful, gemmed ring.
The angel-faced mage’s expression twisted, eyes bright and narrow. He reached forward, out into the open air past the window frame and pulled for any trace of arcane energy, but what little that was found gave him no answers as to where it had taken his brother. Nothing but the dregs of energy dispersal, the pattern of which was his own. This had been his own magic.
Confusal registered on Denastien face, anger and anguish leaving as quickly as they had come. He paced quickly, tearing the inner sanctum of his memory apart with vengeance, piecing together a puzzle out of what little evidence there was.
Aislyn couldn’t have done this, not on her own. Dispersal signatures required time to mimick, time that she wouldn’t have had, not yet. Not after so soon. She’d only learned of Denauriel a matter of weeks ago, if that. What was the day? What time? Where was Denauriel? Where was Denastien? Who-
Strands of his own hair were coiled about his fingers, unconsciously yanked from his scalp as his thought patterns became as feverish as his pacing. The corners of his vision began to darken, his head spun and finally as the floor rushed up to his face, he saw and heard nothing.
Not even the tall, raven-haired stranger in the doorway.@1 week ago with 1 note
(via masrin)@1 month ago with 22560 notes