protectmypeople

[protectmypeople]

Jaha : Leadership is a lonely pursuit, but you...you keep her centered. Bellamy : You got it backwards.

[protectmypeople]

The soft knock at the door has his attention sliding away from his cuffs and towards the large clock hanging in his bedroom. He still had a few minutes before the ceremony. An irritation bristled beneath his skin at being called upon, the feeling having begun the moment maids had bathed, dressed, and crowned him for the wedding of the century. At least that was all they could focus on, how handsome he appeared, how he'd make a fine King, and how his bride was a sight to behold. It had only brought tension into his being, snaking its way around his throat. Bellamy had not been dressed by another since he had been a boy, joining the war effort when he was merely seventeen, foreign hands on his skin had felt off-putting, demeaning, condescending. Yet he had held his tongue, and allowed the traditional custom to occur. He'd never hear the end of it if his mother found out he had dressed himself for his own wedding. He scoffed, she'd probably imagine him prancing down the altar in battle gear. Before a response had even left his lips the door was opened, and in walked his bride. His breath halted in his lungs, and his eyes widened at the sight of her. A long white gown adorned her frame, hugging parts of her that sent fire down into his gut. Jewels hung down her ears, and across her collarbone, the exposed skin doing little to quell the sudden onslaught of want dancing beneath his skin. The maids had been correct, she was a sight to behold.

Air filled his lungs at last, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, a flush filling his freckled cheeks. He was a lieutenant for heavens sake, he should not be feeling this flustered. The door was shut behind her, the atmosphere thick with tension, and he tucked his hands neatly behind his back. A proper King maintained composure, yet the need to cross the remaining space between them felt impossible to maintain.

Alone. It cleared his fog, as he was all too familiar with the feeling. A small tension seeped out of his shoulders, as she lamented about their arrangement. "You don't need to apologize, this will be your quarters soon enough." A shared space, a shared bed, a shared kingdom. Bellamy turned and glanced at his reflection, noting the scars littering his features. A long one dancing down his eyebrow and his cheekbone, another swiped across his other cheekbone, and a smaller one on his lower lip. Why should she be sorry, when she is marrying a man scarred by war. Their war.

A deep sigh moved through his chest as he turned and approached the woman soon to be named his wife. "Davina." Her name on his tongue felt wrong in all the best ways, formalities had been drilled into his skull since he was a young boy. This is not the way he wanted to begin this marriage. "It is for the good of both our kingdoms." He spoke matter of factly, his mind recalling the horrors of the battlefield, young men weeping for their mothers as swords sliced into their innards. Clearing his throat, he reached out slowly and took one of her hands in his. Calloused fingers moving across her soft ones. The warmth of her skin bringing a small sense of comfort within the situation. "I doubt this was either one of our first choices, but I am not upset towards you Davina." His thumb swiping across the top of her hand, an effort to soothe any tension she may feel in regards to the arrangement at hand.

The ceremony will begin shortly, and they will share their first kiss before hundreds of nobles eager to find weakness between the two of them. Nobles will never be satisfied with their own nobility, royalty is their ultimate goal. He had realized it quickly when his mother had announced the arrangement to the kingdom. Women and men of noble station were outraged, their opportunity at royalty diminished now that he was promised to a foreigner. Yet, he suspects they will try to find ways into royal walls. Typically through their bedroom. The reality of their circumstances aside, this was his bride, his wife, and he will do what needs to be done to ensure their mutual contentment.

A sharp knock drew his attention from the woman before him as two guards walked in. "The ceremony will begin in approximately two minutes your highness." One of them instructed, his eyes briefly glancing towards Davina, a flush spreading across the young man's skin. Bellamy couldn't necessarily blame him. "Right, I will see you at the altar Davina." With that last sentiment he exited his, their bedroom and towards the great hall.

The ceremony began, hundreds of nobles sitting in pews, soft violins played in the background as Davina descended down towards the altar. Enrapturing. Bellamy kept his hands folded together tightly behind his back. They kneeled before the officiator as he recited ancient texts of little consequence. His eyes trained forward yet desperate to gaze upon the woman beside him. At last they were permitted to stand, and without much further formality they were given permission to seal their commitment before these witness' and God. With great care he lifted her veil, sucking in a breath he took a moment to admire her. Fully. His hand came to rest against her cheek. God, how was she so soft. The other sliding against the side of her neck, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. Heat quickly rushed across his skin as he moved his mouth against hers. The sound of cheers broke his trance and caused him to take a small step away from his now, wife. The kingdom roared with excitement, the feast now fully able to begin in celebration of their new king, and queen. Bellamy reached down and laced their fingers together. "You ready?" He questioned, his eyes glancing towards her, attempting to steady his breathing and smother the fire in his gut. "We're about to be bombarded."

               there   was   a   warmth   around   the   palace      ,      but   maybe   it   was   due   to   the   fact   that   there   were   people   scurrying   around   the   place   with   the   preparations   of   the   wedding   that   would   take   place   in   a   couple   of   hours      .      she   should   feel   overwhelmed      ,      upset      ,      but   there   was   a   sense   of   calm      &      understanding   that   came   with   her   being   here      ,      her   hand   on   Bellamys   arm      &      the   his   mother   beaming   brightly   about   the   state   of   affairs      .      Davina   is   trying   to   pay   attention   to   the   things   that   her   future   mother-in-law   is   saying      ,      but   she   finds   herself   in   awe   at   her   surroundings      ,      but   also   distracted   by   the   man   that   she   was   walking   next   to      ,      how   he   held   himself   in   such   a   way   that   showed   restraint      ,      but   not   in   the   same   way   that   his   mother   did      .      there   was   an   aching   within   him      ,      it   reminded   her   of   the   way   that   her   spirit   had   been   broken      &      she   had   to   rebuild   herself      .      the   female   was   desperate   to   know      .

               when   the   tour   had   come   to   it's   conclusion   there   was   a   sense   of   sadness      ,      a   sort   of   loss   that   came   over   her   as   she   was   not   ready   to   part   from   the   man   that   she   had   only   just   met      ,      feeling   an   already   sudden      &      strange   attachment   to   him      .      it   could   possibly   be   her   needing   to   find   comfort   with   the   loss   of   what   she   had   left   behind      ,      or   maybe   it   was   because   he   was   just   as   war   torn   as   her      ,      though   his   features   showed   it   more   than   hers      ---      not   that   she   would   ever   judge      .      Bellamy   was   still   handsome   with   the   marks   of   war   on   his   features      ,      surprised   that   she   had   found   the   man   that   she   would   spend   the   rest   of   her   life   tied   to   quite   attractive      .      it   would   make   consummating   their   marriage   a   tad   easier   on   her      ,      though   she   had   not   been   intimate   with   anyone      ,      so   she   hoped   that   he   would   not   think   poorly   of   her      .

               '      I   will   do   my   best   to   be   on   time      .      '      her   response   was   of   a   teasing   nature      ,      lips   turning   up   into   a   smile   as   she   watched   him   walk   away      ,      taking   note   of   where   he   was   going   before   she   had   been   ushered   into   her   quarters      .      the   room   seemed   sterile      ,      without   any   sort   of   personality      ,      but   there   had   been   more   than   enough   people   within   the   room   that   made   it   feel   like   she   was   being   suffocated      .      women   of   all   ages   worked   on   her      ,      bathing   her      ,      changing   her      &      making   her   presentable   for   the   King      ,      showcasing   her   as   the   Queen   that   the   realm   deserved      ,      even   though   she   wasn't   sure   if   blood-stained   hands   looked   proper   in   an   all   white   gown      .

            when   she   was   fully   prepared   for   the   ceremony      ,      she   had   been   left   alone      ,      being   told   that   she   could   use   this   time   to   get   her   thoughts   together      &      do   what   she   needed   to      .      davina   wasn't   sure   what   this   had   meant      ,      but   she   had   been   thankful   that   she   was   being   left   alone      ,      but   there   was   a   sort   of   loneliness   that   came   over   her   as   she   stood   in   front   of   the   mirror      ,      fingers   brushing   over   the   necklace   around   her   neck      &      the   dress   that   adorned   her   figure      .      it   wasn't   long   before   she   had   opened   up   the   doors   to   her   temporary   quarters      ,      a   guard   stationed   outside      &      she   smiled   up   at   him   before   clearing   her   throat      .      '      is   there   any   way   you   can   take   me   to   Bellamys   quarters      ?      i   wish   to   speak   with   him   before   the   ceremony      .      '

      the   guard   was   taken   aback   but   had   agreed      ,      leading   her   towards   the   room   that   she   would   be   staying   in   once   the   ceremony   was   over      &      when   at   the   room   she   had   knocked   lightly   on   the   door   once      &      opened   it      .      '      i   am   sorry   if   I   am   disturbing   you      ,      I   just   couldn't   stand   being   alone   in   that   room      .      '      the   door   was   closed   behind   her      &      she   realized   how   silly   she   felt      ,      standing   there   in   front   of   her   future   husband      ,      dressed   in   a   white   gown      &      jewels      ,      but   feeling   so   entirely   out   of   place      . 

     '      i   hope   you   don't   find   this   arrangement   too   upsetting      ,      though   I   can   understand   if   you   aren't   happy   about   it      .      '

#{ out of protection } #fallenregent

[protectmypeople]

Tension leaked out of the body in his grasp, limp, vulnerable, weak. Bellamy had always suspected weakness in Englishmen, they feared change, the different, the abnormal. They sought comfort, and war was done by the poorest of them while those who incited it sat comfortably in their kingdoms made of brick and mortar. Pathetic men. Rage simmered beneath his skin, and he removed the blade from the blonde's throat, tucking it back neatly in its sheath. With a single hand he intertwined his fingers into the man's hair, yanking his head upward so he could see perfectly. His village, his home, his people burning before him. Death and anguish swam throughout the land, day bleeding into the night as the flames illuminated the empty eyes of those whose souls now danced with Hel. Bellamy leaned in, his breath ghosting across the shell of the Englishman's ear. "You give in as your brethren suffer." Voice low, eyes scanning the man's features for any indication that he may fight against him, see the brutality of his kin and wish to die a man. Yet there was none. "Submissive creatures, Englishmen. You choose to live a coward than die a man." Bellamy's eyes swam with darkness as the thought of snapping the man's neck and leaving him in the filth of his betrayal swam through his head. They needed him. The Englishmen's land was vast, multiple villages scattered across valleys leading towards the kingdom which they sought to conquer.

With one quick motion, he brought himself and the man to a standing point. It was quick work to tie bounds around the man's wrists, tight, constricting blood flow so the fingers go numb. One cannot grasp a knife if they do not feel its handle against their skin. "You will be joining us Englishman, now what is the name given to you." Speaking this man's language was difficult, but he was one of the few of his kin who could, thanks to his mothers desire to assimilate into a culture which was not her own. Punished before him, and left to perish in an unmarked grave. Odin be with her. Bellamy guided the man through the chaos, it having died down significantly as nearly all men were now killed, a few women captured for the delight of his brothers, and children- either deceased or imprisoned within the homes left standing. One of his men approached him, blood coating every inch of his furs, the sheared sides of his head dosed in the sticky substance, illuminated by the fires and the faintness of moonlight. "Is this one to assist in our tracking?" he questioned, pointing his sword halfheartedly at the bound blonde. Bellamy gave a curt nod, and continued his descent to their encampment, away from the crackling sounds of the burning homes, and the cries of those left living in Yggdrasil's dominion. Their tents scattered the valley below the village, torches now aflame that the attack was finished. "Welcome Englishman." He stated sarcastically, the hint of a smirk splaying across his lips.

Chase had been out collecting whatever small sticks and branches that he could find to attempt to keep his family warm for the night. The small group had been traveling relentlessly the minute that there was word that there were Vikings in the area. The stories that they would hear from those who passed by about the horrors that others have endured. From burning the villages to taking women and children he hoped and prayed that something would not happen to their village. As he started to make his way back, he heard loud screams and smelled smoke. It was almost like he froze in his steps for a moment before starting to head back to see what was going on. Just like his worst fear he was starting to see the village come into view and saw exactly what was going on. His mind went to his family and before he could even tell his feet to start moving and running, he felt someone come up behind him and shove him straight to the ground.

The blonde wanted to yell, move, to do anything but he felt the sharp blade against his neck and fell silent. What would be better, death or being taken captive? He could feel his breath quicken, not even wanting to turn his head in fear that the blade might nick his neck, causing him to start to bleed. There was no fight left in him, and his eyes quickly went to the individuals that they were matching out, trying to catch the faces to see if they were his family. Just knowing that they were alright would be enough for him but he couldn't tell as the sweat coming from his forehead started to fall down his face. He stayed silent, scared if he said the incorrect thing that the metal would slice right though his neck. His body went limp, hoping that the other knew that he would not be fighting back.

#{ out of protection } #heroexxs

[protectmypeople]

The thought of getting caught weighs heavily on his mind, but he needs to pass this class or he'll be stuck in potions a whole 'nother year. Which cannot happen. Bellamy raises his hands in mock surrender, as she agrees to get the both of them inside Snape's office. He risks a glance in her direction, the soft lighting of the corridors, coupled with the hazy moonlight filtering in through the sky high windows gives her face a soft luminous light. Is she glowing? It has his chest and neck heating in an uncomfortable manner. Stunning. Fuck his entire existence. Hydra was one of his few friends, he can't risk losing her over something as stupid as a crush.

Bellamy follows in her footsteps, entering into the office with little effort. Surprising "Lumos" He whispers out, and the tip of his wand glows as he begins to scan the neatness of the office itself. "Damn, this shouldn't take long." He mumbles out, eyes filtering through the endless stacks of papers, and ominous half filled bottles that could contain anything from polyjuice potion to billywig sting. Bellamy chances another glance in her direction, the question burning in his head threatening to set him aflame as he watches her carefully move throughout the space. "So uh-" He clears his throat, pretending to be enraptured with a book labeled- 'Household Potions'.

"Are you going with anyone to the Yule Ball?" His gaze fixated entirely on the pages that he wasn't even really reading. Bellamy's heart beat wildly in his chest, threatening to leap out of his skin and confess every thought he'd ever had concerning her. Why was this so difficult? Bellamy had confronted magical beasts with far more ease. Yet it was somehow far more difficult to ask the most dangerous, prettiest girl in Slytherin to the dumbest dance to grace Hogwarts Halls.

continued   from   x   with   @protectmypeople .

                    SOMETIMES   ,   HYDRA   WONDERS   HOW   bellamy   had   avoided   getting   sorted   into   gryffindor .     he’s   got   all   the   workings   of   a   right   ,   proper   slytherin   …   but   ,   it’s   moments   like   these   in   which   she   can   see   the   gryffindor   possibilities .     any   other   slytherin   would   have   likely   taken   the   opportunity   to   run   without   a   second   thought .     but   ,   not   bellamy   blake .     if   it   were   anyone   else   ,   she   would   have   found   herself   irritated   by   the   nobility   of   it   all .     but   ,   coming   from   him   ,   it   somehow   fits    &&    she   can���t   force   herself   to   be   angered   by   it .     despite   herself   ,   hydra   finds   her   own   cheeks   flushing   in   the   darkness   as   a   slight   smile   graces   her   features   and   she   gives   a   single   nod   of   her   head   in   the   positive   ,    ❛   as   you   wish .   ❜    she   murmurs   ,   voice   a   low   hum   before   she   glances   around   the   corner   of   the   corridor   in   which   they’re   hiding .     the   coast   seems   to   be   clear   ,   and   she’s   fairly   certain   that   snape   is   in   his   quarters   some   distance   down   the   hall   ,    ❛   follow   my   lead .     i’ll   get   us   in   there   ,   no   problem .   ❜

#{ out of protection } #araneorum

[protectmypeople]

The inn itself was coated in the comedic glow of candelabras, Bellamy had to restrain himself from chuckling, and perhaps a snarky comment on 'mood' lighting. The city of Freeze was one he failed to frequent, it maintained a properness that had a tendency to rub him the wrong way. Each and every immoral dealing transpired in the darkened alleys, sewers, and dimly lit bars. Yet the aura of this inn seemed to dance its way into immorality, or feigned properness. Dealers choice.The sound of double dollars hitting the front desk drew his drunken attention towards the lobby, and the man sat leisurely behind the desk. Sunken eyes slid across whatever was occupying his attention to the irregular pair standing in his lobby. The mention of two beds brought his gaze down to the blonde fidgeting in front of him. Distrust. Evident, yet warranted. There was a lack of definition for their situation, it alluded him in sobriety and even further in his own stupor. Yet the liquor swirling in his gut, and the chill brought on by the desert air had his hopes leaping at the thought of sharing a sleep space with the bounty hunter. The warmth of skin, and her body pressed against his.

The sharp sound of keys hitting the counter knocked a bit of sense into him, and with careful steps they made their way up towards a room number he barely identified, before the door shut behind them. Tension leaked out of his shoulders. Safety, as benign as it may be still brought him a sense of corrupted peace. Bellamy stripped himself of his shirt with ease, tossing it aside with the rest of his belongings as he sat down on the first bed he registered. It dipped beneath his weight, and his calloused fingers instinctively reached for the soft, yet coarse material of the sheets. Ground yourself. A strained sigh left his lips, and he dragged a hand through his hair. "Hard to believe huh.. That we're here." He mumbled out, a flush traveling to his freckled cheeks as he heard how ridiculous he sounded. The strong desire to touch, reassure, hold had been overwhelming him the moment the first shot of liquor had swirled into his blood stream.

There wasn't a great deal of softness, or kindness left in the wastelands. At least not for him, crimson dripping skin and a history in the blood dome had crafted him into Beater. Biker had been his first genuine interaction in possibly years, and she had instantly fascinated him. Vulnerability, a weakness, that had been shared between the two of them. Crafted from the deaths of two determined assassins, and a hellish sex cult. Bellamy felt nervousness crawl under his skin, standing to his feet he approached the shorter hunter. Liquor propelled him forward, and he wrapped his arms around her frame. Warmth quickly blossomed in his chest, his fingers tightening around her as he enveloped Mason in a hug. It eased something primal within him. No underlying threat, only the simplicity of their connection. "I meant what I said.." He pulled away, a darkness swimming his eyes as he peered down at her. "We're partners." And anyone who deemed her harm would be met with his fists and a grin.

The atmosphere in the bar was beginning to make her skin itch, as though she had spent the last day and a half travelling through the desert without proper protection, allowing the sand to whip at her bare flesh. Erode away the top layer until only raw, irritated wounds remained. Perhaps this was due to what Mason endured at the cruel hands of Wolfwood. While she had pushed forward past those moments in the church, part of her mind was still trapped there, pinky finger crushing Bellamy's. The slightest hint of a sexually charged environment was enough to chip away at the bounty hunter's cold demeanor. So when Beater stopped short of the bar with Biker in tow, she was able to let herself breathe the smallest of relieved sighs when it was clear that he wouldn't be ordering another drink. Only for her butterscotch eyes to widen when he took her hand, as though he had done so dozens of times before, and began to lead them out of the rapidly crowding bar.

Her scarred hand fitting into his, like it belonged there, the thought penetrating through her fatigued haze with the force of a lightning bolt. Mason had to put extra focus into keeping her footing as she followed Bellamy past the rather unsavory patrons. The heat of both the alcohol buzzing in her system and the bodies that seemed to press in on them from all sides was finally released when they stepped outside and were greeted by the unforgiving desert night air, hardly kept at bay by the towering buildings of Freeze. It helped to ground her. Collecting her thoughts became much less of a daunting task. Biker no longer felt caught in a tornado of confusion from the past forty-eight hours. Only the path ahead felt muddled and foreign, with Beater's thumb dipping into the deep scar tissue that crisscrossed the valleys between her knuckles in smooth strokes that were meant to bring comfort. Partners. Such an odd position to find themselves in when, several hours earlier, she had been sure that he was going to tear her throat out with his teeth. Just as he had done to the assassin they had fought just a few short weeks ago.

Stepping forward with him, hand in hand towards the darkened streets of Freeze felt as though Mason was plunging headfirst into the murky unknown. As though she were stalking a new bounty with no information, yet somehow worse. Pale fingers twitched in his grasp. Although the streets were empty, she suddenly longed for the anonymity of her yellow helmet. The inn that came into view was nothing like the one they stayed at in July. For one, it was built out of gray stone rather than sandstone, like Darcia's castle. And when they entered, there was no stench of cigarette smoke or staleness. Iron candelabras stood in each corner, giving the lobby a sort of ethereal glow. Were she any less exhausted, Mason would have snorted. Darcia certainly cared too much for what visitors to Freeze thought of him and his city. Approaching the counter, she finally released Bellamy's hand to reach into her pocket and drop a wad of double dollars in front of the man who was sitting behind the desk. "I need a room for three nights, with two beds," she mumbled. Was it simple distrust that still crawled around in the base of her skull that lead her to that decision, or the anxiety of appearing too forward?

#{ out of protection } #smokinmirrors #god i love them

[protectmypeople]

if anyone wants to plot some harry potter AU's PLEASE MESSAGE ME

#{ out of protection } #{ ooc }

[protectmypeople]

There was little warning. The delinquent rose in silence, the wounds on his sides seeping blood, further pooling in between Bellamy's fingers. With a force he had never felt from the other, he was shoved into the vile ground of the Upside Down. There was a moment where fear spun heavily in his head, Eddie should be unable to move this smoothly with the injuries he's covered in. He should be dead by now. Soft skin gone completely cold, lips purple, lifelessness consuming the man before him. The thoughts overwhelmed him, he couldn't let Eddie die. Too much was unsaid.

Fear subsided as he accepted his fate, the realm he couldn't comprehend fading from existence as a sharpness sunk itself into the soft expanse of his neck. Ecstasy. It filled him, the pain of the initial bite fading as a sick sort of pleasure coursed through his bloodstream. Bellamy felt his body give in to the sensation, adrenaline flooding him at the reality that he may die at the hands of the person he had felt so much for. Fingers still tainted in Eddie's blood, he brought his hand up to rest on the back of the other's head. Hand intertwining itself in the soft curls, grounding him to the reality of their situation.

Death had always been foreign to him, its presence unfamiliar as it had sat beside him when Eddie's blood spurted from his abdomen. Now it remained, the hot trickle of crimson dripping down the side of his neck, lips moving against his skin in a way he had always dreamt of. Alone in his room, hans beneath his sheets as his mind raced with pictures of Eddie sprawled beneath him. Now here they lay in opposite. "E-Eddie.." He croaked out, a flash of pain occuring as his jaw was forced to move with his words, sending a fresh wave down his throat. "Don't leave." Fingers tightening in hair, as sensations akin to pleasure moved through him. Bellamy wanted to squirm, to touch, to kiss, yet he remained still body now belonging to the man on top of him.

Yeah, he isn little insane. But so much about his current condition is still unknown that a hospital is basically a one way ticket to government testing. There will be dozens of red flags. The fact that his body temperature now normally averages at about fifty degrees, that he hasn't consumed any kind of food in months, and that though his heart still beats it no longer follows the same pattern as a human one.

But he doesn't have the time to explain any of this to Bellamy. Not when his next words make all of Eddie's brain functions cease. Send him into the most animalistic state his new instincts can provide. There's no thought, at least not one coherent enough to be that of a human, in mind as he sits up easily in despite of the wounds he's once again covered in.

He pounces on Bellamy, sending him onto his back of the grimy Upside Down floor, and sinks his fangs into the soft and tender flesh of his neck. It's Eddie's first time tasting human blood, and it's a million times better than he could have ever imagined. It's not just a taste, it's a full body experience that has him moaning a little, a deep hum in his chest almost like a purr while he drinks.

#{ out of protection } #hawkinshellraiser

[protectmypeople]

Flames roared, licking up at the canopies carved from wood and brush. It tore through cinder and stone unforgiving in its persistent rage. Bellamy stared upward, eyes trained on the fiery brimstone engulfing another home. The echo of screams and sobs intertwined with one another, releasing a sound known only to those who cause its release. Bellamy swung his axe unto his shoulder resting it there, he stood shirtless, his entire bottom half covered in cloth along with a range of animal furs. It had grown too hot, sweat dripping down his brow and mixing sweetly with the blood splattered across his freckled cheeks. At least it wasn't his. A rumbling laugh stole his attention, bringing his focus to his comrade whose axe had just swung into the skull of a young man, most likely a brave lad attempting to salvage his home and kin him. A burly woman weeped beside him, tears of a mother. His eyes flickered away from the scene unfolding, some of his comrades enjoyed the bloodshed a little too much. It dug under his skin, and his fingers tightened on the handle of his weapon as he continued his way through the village.

Their own home was looking to expand, take over. No longer was it the days of the Englishman, but the era of the Viking. Bellamy couldn't agree more, the memory of his mother guillotined for her bloodline rang through his mind. Crinkling his nose, he shook his head, as if he could rid himself of the incessant memory of her head rolling across the wooden platform. Brown hues scanned the remainder of the village, his eyes brushing past women, and children. A twitch of movement drew his attention, a man, appearing to return from the forest beyond. A hunter perhaps, unaware of the realities his village now faced. However, useful in the determining the lay of the land. Bellamy took off, his legs carrying him quickly over to the blonde headed man. With swift hands, he shoved the man down, tackling him and pressing the hilt of his axe to the others throat. Dark eyes combed across the others features, his chest rising and falling with the exertion of bringing down such a large opponent. "Do not move or I will slit you where you lie." Bellamy's raspy tone rang resolutely through the chaos unfolding in the background, his tongue attempting to accustom itself to the English leaving his lips. Legs tightened on the others waist, ensuring that escape was futile, and his axe would bear down on him with the weight of his entire body. "You will be coming with us."

@heroexxs

#heroexxs #closed starter #{ out of protection }

[protectmypeople]

i should not be trusted with the ability to fantasize

[protectmypeople]

STACKED100 | october 29th | "inclement weather" Raven's surgery.

[protectmypeople]

Hours ago. Mere hours. Steven Bernard, his suspect, their only suspect was gone? The hand left his chest, and he felt the tension within his bones ease in the very slightest. Fishes and the worms. Fear plucked at his sanity grimly, awaiting him as the reality of his situation settled neatly into his skin. The adrenaline fading, only darkness remaining, pain evident in his wrists, skull, hands, chest. The plant left them, Bellamy's eyes tracking the movements, the curvature of the large hands wrapped in leather. The positioning of the, what was it again? Sumac? Plant to the wire, returning to its companions.

Snapping quickly back to the stranger who moved in pure silence, no giant should be able to move so quietly. A smile, a wicked one sat on the man's features, a small semblance of humanity, although foreign upon the stranger's lips. Liar. Well, he very well could have. Yet there was an evident presence within the space, indicating that if he did, and he were to be found out, a great deal of pain would be brought his way. Death. Bellamy tilted his head back, exposing his throat, every instinct within him screaming, high pitched and angry to hide himself, to curl into his body and shrink into the corner to be forgotten, and therefore saved. Exhaustion was too heavy on his mind for him to listen to the sane voice within himself, his eyes did not leave the killer in front of him, head resting against the wall of the van they resided in.

"Y-You didn't answer my question." He repeated, perhaps he had a death wish. An Intel Agent wasn't meant for the field, at least he wasn't. His behavior had been deemed unacceptable. You are inflammatory Agent Blake. You are not fit for the field, your aggression is uncalled for. A huff flew past his lips, he had always been too much talk, words flying past lips before he felt the rough imprint of knuckles on his cheek. A common occurrence in his past. Settling for the intelligence unit had been the wise decision. It brought the peace he needed in his life. Yet the hot anger stirred in his chest, fingers aching as they continued their persistent escape attempts behind his back. "Who the hell are you? Why me? What do you want from me?" His words dripped with venom, as his eyes stared into the black abyss across from him. "They'll find me you know.." Empty words. No conviction.

@protectmypeople ://

'Pale skin, defined nose, spray of moles.' 

Nothing this stranger saw of himself. He had skin and teeth, eyes and paws for few things: this moment, the black moon, Bellamy's dancing fox heart jumping into his round, fluid eyes. Pumping, pumping. 

He corrected Bellamy softly, "Bernard."

Likewise, the stranger seemed interested in little but this Ren, a man (Admiral Pryde), and waning the threat down to his wick. Cloth 'pressed against cloth, against skin, against muscle, against bone, against the muscle' pumping his blood. What they all felt in these moments. 

"Gone, I'm afraid," he croaked. Cleared his throat. "Hours ago."

At last, the stranger lifted his hand from Bellamy's sternum, the palm of his brown-hide glove damp, making a lip-smacking sound. 

"Steven Bernard is with the fishes and the worms." The stranger paused, rewound the sumac, and pinned it on the wire. "Consider yourself the first to know, Special Agent Blake.“

Silence, save for the sound of their bodies moving. The trees speaking amongst themselves. 

"No face, no case," the stranger said. Swallowed. "Little use now." Smiled... yes, it was a smile, the tincture of a smile, inlaid into a mask where it did not belong. "At least you aren't a liar." 

#{ out of protection } #kylo wrecked

[protectmypeople]

🐝  *  ―  𝑫𝑰𝑭𝑭𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑾𝑨𝒀𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑲𝑰𝑺𝑺 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑶𝑵𝑬.

[ peck ] a quick, light kiss on the partner's lips or cheek [ french ] a deep, passionate kiss with the use of tongue [ forehead ] a gentle kiss on the partner's forehead, conveying care and affection [ spiderman ] an upside-down kiss, just like in the movie [ mistletoe ] a playful or romantic kiss under a mistletoe [ hand ] a chivalrous kiss on the back of the partner's hand [ lingering ] a long, slow kiss filled with emotion and desire [ neck ] a kiss or gentle sucking on the partner's neck [ nape ] a kiss placed at the nape of the partner's neck [ teasing ] a light brushing of lips against a partner's skin without fully kissing [ earlobe ] a light nibble on the partner's earlobe [ tango dip ] a kiss shared while one partner is dipped backward [ celebration ] a joyful and exuberant kiss to celebrate an achievement or milestone [ stolen ] a quick, stealthy, and impromptu kiss snatched in secret [ bite ] a playful kiss that involves some light biting [ goodbye ] a heartfelt kiss when parting, showing affection and fondness [ rain ] a romantic kiss in the rain [ scars ] a gentle kiss on the partner's scar(s) [ injury ] a careful kiss on a partner's wound to make it all better [ wedding ] a romantic kiss shared during a wedding ceremony [ comfort ] a tender kiss to provide comfort or reassurance [ sunset ] a kiss shared during sunset, often romantic and serene [ butterfly ] a light fluttering of eyelashes against the partner's skin [ seductive ] a deep, slow, and deliberately intense kiss filled with passion and desire [ shoulder ] a tender kiss on the partner's shoulder [ knuckles ] a kiss on each individual knuckle of the partner [ slow motion ] a kiss in slow motion, accentuating every moment and sensation [ reunion ] a longing kiss shared after being apart for a while [ passionate ] an intense and fiery kiss, expressing raw desire and strong emotion [ underwater ] a kiss shared while submerged in water [ wrist ] a tender kiss on the inside of the partner's wrist [ wake up ] a loving kiss to wake the partner up [ apology ] a kiss offered as a way to apologize or make amends [ hummingbird ] a series of light, rapid, and fluttery kisses on a small area [ trail ] a trail of kisses along the partner's jawline or collarbone [ blowing ] a kiss in the air and send of the gesture towards the partner [ surprise ] a sudden kiss to catch the partner off guard [ hickey ] a kiss that's supposed to leave a mark on the partner's skin [ single lip ] a sucking or nibbling of one of the partner's lips [ nose ] an affectionate gesture where partners rub their noses together

[protectmypeople]

Permission granted. Flames rose in his eyes, the celestial being granting him access to life herself. Foolish, as he was. Death and Life colluding together, it had been well over a millenia. The brimstone which darkened the Earth, and the flowers that sprung from its hardened surface. Intertwining the two was dangerous, yet here they lay, the gods of creation. With in an instant the dress was shredded, his magic carving through the thin material, engulfed in hot flames for only an instant before she was laid bare before him. Milky skin, soft silver tendrils, he sat back on his haunches to admire the goddess before him. Electricity buzzed in his fingertips, sparks of lightning carving between his hands as his magic burned with anticipation. Life. Bellamy kept his magic pressed tightly to her wrists, as he bent down and engulfed her breast with his hand, squeezing roughly as his tongue worked against her chest. The electricity transferred to her skin, his body warm, desperate for the taste of her. An empty well, dark, dry - she was the golden honey dripping into the pit, consuming death entirely. Traveling downward, marks left upon pale skin, trailing down to her core, salivating as his tongue moved against her. Thunder boomed in the room, as his own arousal peaked at the essence of Daenerys. Magic filtered through the room with power, clogging the atmosphere with dark clouds as his control slipped in his eagerness to consume Life. With a twitch of his fingers, his own ceremonial garments left him, leaving him open before her. Bellamy crawled up her frame once more, his lips hot as coal as they kissed up her frame, leaving burns behind. The desire to mark life, mark Daenerys as his. "Oh Daenerys.." Once he reached her face, lips plump and pink, he bent down, a wicked grin on his lips. The smirk of death, he needed her to become undone, to crack at the seams so he can drink of the honey hidden in her frame. It felt easy, natural, inevitable, his length lining itself at her entrance, a gentleness unwarranted for the moment as he slid inside of her. A moan tore itself through his chest, a deeper rumble of thunder echoing in the room, as lightning crackled under his hands, striking electricity in Daenerys frame. Bellamy nearly collapsed as molten lava carved into his skin, red eyes now dancing in flames. He was becoming undone at her hands. He sank deeper into her, until he had nothing more to give, buried inside of her, his hands gripped at her hips. Bellamy licked a stripe up the side of her throat, his eagerness to taste, to please overshadowing rationality. Giving in to Life. "Use me.. in any way which pleases you goddess."

It was very unexpected that he wanted to continue after being enraged by Antoine's disturbance (rightly so). Yet her body still craved what they didn't finish, knowing that she truly couldn't wait a milenia to taste him, ravage his body and feel every part of her celestial soul screaming for him. His decor was beautiful, the deep greens and candles added ambiance, even the scent of the room tickled her nose. Daenerys let him carry her off again, his magic enveloping her body again nearly causing her to moan as it caressed her skin, her own magic enjoying the feel of their two powers acting like their own entities, entwining together just as her and Bellamy would if she had it her way once they resettle into the rest of their evening. The second her back hit the bed his magic had her spread for him and her desire spiked for him all over again, her body remembering just how close, how taut her body was to the edge before he stopped suddenly. If Bellamy hadn't shielded her she would have sent that mad man in a few more pieces, perhaps reduce him back to atoms for the disturbance and he could spend a few billion years growing back into a celestial being. His slow animalistic prowl to her body made her shiver, his eyes glowing red as that lust returned, remembering that he hadn't received any relief from her body just yet and he was waiting, more than patiently to hear her begging and pleading for release. If not for his knee between her legs she would have closed them as his magic crawled and raked up her body, taunting her, the invisible hands squeezing and groping her as Bellamy admired the work he left at her neck, a promise that they wouldn't be disturbed again. "The gown is yours to destroy" Her eyes never left his, truth dancing in them. Whether he accepted her advances or not the dress was made to catch his eye that evening, to tempt him. "I can make another," She shot him a cheeky grin before her magic pulsed beneath him, inviting him to finish what he started. "The moment you asked if I were coming I knew." Daenerys wrapped her legs around him again, feeling his desire start pressing against her again. "If we are disturbed again... Don't stop."

#{ out of protection } #kizhavvorsa

[protectmypeople]

"it was an accident, I swear"

-@ourdyingwords murphy

The stillness of the air penetrated deep into his chest, birds silent, all natural sounds seemed muffled as he stared at the dead grounder laying facedown in rough pebbles below. He and Murphy had been separated from the others, criminals each in their own right. Blood dipped hands coated up to their forearms. It was inevitable that they ended up being coupled together. Bellamy could see it, the way eyes watched them with a suspicion mixed with distaste. It burrowed under his skin, digging itself into his bones and settling uncomfortably in his chest. It had been their one job, to bring back the man alive. This was their key to ending the war between the grounders and the sky people. The two most disposable delinquents forced into the task. Now, the man lay crumbled, twenty feet below them, off a cliff into a rocky death that had consumed him. Breath came in spurts as Murphy's words came with a hesitation, a result of Bellamy's own cruelness towards the shorter man. Brown eyes met blue as he stalked towards the younger delinquent. "An accident? How many times have I heard that." Brows drawing lower, as panic and anger mixed violently within him. They weren't trusted, they were disposable, this had been their ticket into good graces. Fingers bundled itself into Murphy's worn shirt, shoving the other back into the nearest tree available. "This was our one job, Murphy." A desperation edged into his voice, they couldn't go back. They'd be sent as offerings to the grounders to die a death of a thousand cuts. War was inevitable. Breath, hot, puffed over the others features, chest rising and falling at an alarming rate. Was this panic? His grip loosened, and he took a step back before he took matters into his own hands. "We can't go back. We can't show up empty handed."

@ourdyingwords

#{ out of protection } #ourdyingwords #{ answered }

[protectmypeople]

THE TEMP HIATUS IS FINISHED. Midterms are over and I am back MUAHAHAHA- hoping to finish drafts today + asks.

#{ out of protection } #OOC #working hard or hardly working

[protectmypeople]

Trouble. A great deal of it, it illustrates itself in the consistent knocking in the innards of his skull. Words drip like honey, barely touching his mind as his thrashing, attempted escape, left him feeling dizzy. Concussed. A plant, moonlight reaching out, illuminating the leather clad hand. Darkness enveloped the stranger, it moved with him, overbearing in nature, commanding a presence that he lacked. Sumac. The giant's voice was rough, describing his potential death in detail at the hands of the pitiful plant before him. Bellamy scrunched his nose, unintentional, eyes swimming as he attempted to make out the man moving so fluidly in such a small environment. Pounding, pounding, he should have been smarter than this. He should have recognized a tail, a man this large cannot go unnoticed. Hogweed sap. The names burning into his memory, a botanist perhaps? A farmer? A chemist? Who was this man? The threat hung in the air, his breath catching, shaky, as he pulled on his binds once more, the burn of the rope grounding him. Bellamy leaned back, as far as he could, head thumping against the back, as the stranger drew in. Blackness consumed him, even at this proximity, a stillness he couldn't comprehend as his own breath came trembling, eyes dancing across the features he could make out. Pale skin, defined nose, a spray of moles. The threat was evident, it caused a fresh spike of fear and adrenaline, mixing coyly in his gut.

The desire to remain strong, to spit in the face of danger brewed within him. Yet he had spent enough time in stuffy offices, gun-proof vests, and musty cars to know this stranger was experienced. An ease in the fact that he had a Federal Agent in the back of his van, an ease to the threats. No underlying panic, or heightened emotion. Calculated. Bellamy swallowed a the mention of this Ren. A god? A supreme overlord? Someone he should fear, figurative or not, he needed to live. He was desperate to survive. To return to his measly office, drink his shitty office coffee, and for fucks sake, to remember to always look behind him. Flesh, tongue, bone. Bellamy's chest heaved as the man pressed his enormous hand to his sternum. It burned, electricity sparking as every one of his senses honed in on the gloved appendage currently pressed against cloth, against skin, against muscle, against bone, against the muscle pumping his blood in and out of his arteries keeping him living. The questions persisted, his eyes flicking across features barely visible. He shouldn't answer. Confidential information. Undisclosed. This man will shred him. Swallowing thickly, brown hues met eyes obscured in shadows.

"I-I was surveying, I gather intel I'm not uh-" Heavy eyes, sleepy, what had he been doing? "Steve Bernard, suspected bomber." Mouth dry, desperate for any liquid to drench his throat. Admiral Pryde. A delusion. He wasn't military, this man knew that, he must have. Agent had weighed heavily on his tongue. Would it benefit him to agree? False. Honesty was his best course of action. "I don't know. No. I don't know an Admiral Pryde. I don't know any Admirals." Aching. Bones heavy, he couldn't fall asleep. He wouldn't know his location, he doesn't know. He can feel the urgency seeping into his skin, the hot hand pressed against his chest, keeping him still. Bound, weakened. Death lived in the atmosphere, and he refused to be buried in an unmarked grave, in the middle of the freezing woods. "Now- I answered your question. You- You, who are you?" Words were difficult, he puffed his chest slightly in defiance, pressing into the hand against it. Dread drifted into his chest as he made the idiotic decision to lean in, a determination in his gaze. "I gave you two answers, I have no idea who you are.. The FBI is- doesn't know you." Alarm bells rang in his head, as it dawned upon his conscience that this man was a mystery. Bellamy should know every major serial predator, killer, stalker and other in the nation. This stranger, this van built with a makeshift habitat, the fluidity in which this interrogation occurred. Bellamy breathed hard, lungs burning as the reality of never being found dawned on him.

@protectmypeople ://

“Mm, no.” He hems, doing little to balm the raw tunnel of his throat. “You’re in trouble.” The stranger states this simple fact in tones one might consider cordial under other circumstances. His voice a still slow, dripping molasses. Winnowing as it can.

“I’m biding time,” he rasps. Swallows. “I’ll face what trouble awaits me. When I’m… ready. When you’re ready, you’ll answer the question: what were you doing—”

The threat interrupts with his excruciating racket. Bucking his binds with such vigor, however unproductive. A threat that makes demands, his voice keening on the brink of desperation. The stranger’s face glazes with disappointment and the cutting edge of his seeing instruments blunts. He seems to have expected more.

“No,” he grunts. “No… I asked you a question.” A longer pause. Rage, rage prancing underneath. “Mm. We’ll try again.”

He reaches, his girth rippling, himself a vessel and a sea, dark on dark, unclips from his cornucopian wire a twined-tied bushel of leaves the colors of ripened Honeycrisp. Curls back around toward Bellamy, cupping a sprig in his leather palm for him to see.

“Sumac,” the stranger coughs. Swallowing against the raw in the delicate celestial light splashing the driver’s side window. It makes a moony offering of Bellamy, a phantom of the stranger as if he’s become one with the Ren he speaks of. “Burning sumac produces urushiol smoke that shrivels the lungs. It’s a good evening for a fire.”

Still air. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just right.

“If the fumes don’t finish you, I would bet… if I were to leave and come back sometime later, the cold would.”

Leaning again, he appropriates a jar from a milk crate lined with brown paper.

“I’ve never used this extract specimen.” Clears his throat. Briefly displays the ropy and pellucid substance within. “Hogweed sap. Another unfriendly plant. Simply coming into contact with its leaves can cause serious burns. Blindness. Should you prefer your time in the sun?”

Leaning now apropos the threat until their dark crowns well-nigh touch, and the stranger’s breath is warm on his face, smelling of maple, of moss, and of silver. No heat breathes off the tank of the stranger, apart from under his arms and his lower midriff. Voodoo lily heat.

“See, you’re not grateful to the Ren at all,” he rasps. “Because you don’t understand yet, Agent Blake. I’m doing you a favor. I am saving you. Your eyes. Your tongue. Your flesh.”

The stranger fell back and showed him the hogweed sap as a reminder.

“Now,” he went on, holding the full span of his palm to the threat’s sternum, commanding his stillness. “You owe me two questions before trouble comes. Keep in mind you have far less time than I do.” He flicked his tongue over his cracked lips. Something wrong with it, a faint split, a telltale warning from teacher to templar. “Question one. What were you doing parked outside the woods, Special Agent Blake? And two, question two, Agent Blake: Do you know Admiral Pryde?”

#{ out of protection } #kylo wrecked #{ i am screaming }

[protectmypeople]

There was a haste in the movements of the guards operating the carriage, and with little warning they were on their way out of the manor. Brows furrowed, his eyes scanned the vehicle for a brief moment, the soldier in him assessing the situation at hand. A brief cough from his mother indicated that his posture was not up to par, quickly correcting his eyes drifted back towards his fiance. Sharp hazel eyes, brown hair that cascaded in waves, framing features that had a brief flush filling his freckled cheeks, causing white scars to become a bit more prominent. The curtsy was polite, his eyes following her every movement realizing only then his response was delayed. Bellamy bowed further than may have been necessary, his time spent in battle doing little to aid with his current social skills. Fingers fidgeting behind his back, his curiosity peaked at the mention of complications. The desire to inquire further plucked at his brain, however he knew there were certain formalities to civilized society. "It is my pleasure Ms. Claire, I'm Bellamy Blake." A small smile slipped onto his lips, his arm extending slightly for her to take. A beaming mother, and a council of elders was a great deal to take in within such a short period of time.

His mother guided the crowd inside, leading the party through corridors, showcasing the intricate designs of the wedding details, pews sat in rows, prepared to welcome the kingdom for the ceremony of the century. Per his mothers words. The heat of her hand on his arm had his skin itching, he had not been so close to another without the companion of alcohol at his side. Bellamy kept one hand behind his back, his glances discreet as he admired her. Curve of her nose, soft jawline, there was an acceptance within her features that he hadn't expected. Bellamy half expected the woman he wed to rage, bound to a man scarred by brutality unbeknownst to the court. This was different. Excitement and nervousness brewed in his chest, mind unsure of which to jump on first. Perhaps this marriage will be different than expected. The tour was incredibly drawn out, unnecessary. They ascended the stairs and soon found themselves standing in front of a guest room, door wide with maids waiting, hands tucked neatly behind their backs, warm smiles on their faces. "Well, you will remain here Davina until the ceremony, then of course you will move into my sons quarters." His mother spoke with a softness he had only known in childhood. The Queen had endured the same fate, arranged marriage, he suspected she had some idea of how Davina felt. A few days after the marriage ceremony, the coronation will occur, the changing of the guard, Davina would be their Queen, and himself, her King. At the mention of the eventual communion, he cleared his throat, fist tightening against his back. This was forever. The remainder of their lives, tied to one another, shared fate and space. Eyes finally met her features with intention, pulling his arm back towards his side, her absence burning a hole in his coat, he bowed once more. "Ms. Claire, I will see you this evening at the altar."

Polite, courteous, a million questions had already been flying around his skull. Complications. Brief eye contact with his mother he turned on his heel and made his way over to his quarters, an onslaught of maids awaiting to dress him in the attire befitting a king. Tension seeped into his shoulders, the evening drawing near with each passing moment. There was a strong desire to sneak into the brunette's quarters, allow the formalities to drift away as she would be his wife in only an hour. Bathed, dressed, cuffed, hair fiddled with for far too long, crown placed upon his head. Standing before a mirror, fingers absently fidgeting with his cuffs, the picture of royalty. He felt more comfort in a battlefield. The halls buzzed in anticipation, the final details, the kingdom filtering in through wide open doors, candles lit, the cool night air filtering in through open windows. If this overwhelmed him, he could imagine how Davina felt. An entirely foreign land, and now wed to a complete stranger.

                                    𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭   𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐭���

               davina   used   to   have   faith   in   her   family      ,      her   community   on   the   ground      .      there   was   an   unwavering   loyalty   that   she   had   felt   with   them   that   she   wasn't   sure   would   ever   break      ,      but   even   strong   beliefs   could   be   chipped   away   at   until   they   were   nothing      .      small   fractures   here      &      there      ,      unsure   if   she   was   seeing   things   or   maybe   she   was   turning   a   blind   eye   to   them      ,      but   her   mother   had   always   told   her   that   what   needs   to   happen   will      &      she   couldn't   change   it      .      locking   her   in   a   box   where   everyone   else   made   decisions   for   her      ,      especially   who   she   would   marry      .

            she   was   told   for   years   that   this   arrangement   would   happen      ,      that   when   it   was   time   for   the   two   communities   to   come   together   to   stop   the   War   she   would   be   given   as   an   offering   of   peace   to   a   man   that   she   did   not   know      .      she   had   no   choice      ,      there   was   no   discussion   of   what   she   wanted   only   what   she   must   do   without   questioning   it      .      davina   was   praised      ,      she   was   looked   at   like   she   was   a   star   pillar   of   the   community      ,      the   daughter   of   one   of   the   Elders   was   going   to   end   the   war      &      high   praises   never   last      .      not   when   davina   devastated   the   community      .      in   an   attempt   to   protect   herself   she   sought   help   in   neutralizing   a   threat   within   the   community      .      but   when   things   got   out   of   hand      ,      there   was   a   massacre      &      davina   was   to   blame      .      their   beloved      ,      the   girl   who   was   going   to   end   the   war   was   now   a   disgrace      .      but   she   was   still   expected   to   bring   peace      .

                     the   ride   was   long      ,      silent      .      the   ones   transporting   her   refusing   to   acknowledge   her      ,      standing   true   to   the   shunning   that   she   had   faced   before   departing   her   home      .      heart   is   broken      ,      feeling   lost      &      the   guilt   of   the   dead   weighing   on   her      .      and   now   she   was   expected   to   travel   to   a   new   land      ,      marry   for   those   who   shunned   her   to   be   at   peace      &      to   give   up   everything   for   another      .      but   what   did   davina   have   to   give   if   everything   she   had   was   taken   away   from   her      ?      the   carriage   pulled   up   to   the   estate   quickly      ,      an   eager   desperation   in   the   driver   to   get   rid   of   her      &      she   didn't   bother   glancing   out   the   window   as   she   was   sure   that   she   would   be   dragged   out      &      happily   discarded   as   they   sped   away      .      and   that   seemed   to   be   exactly   what   happened      .

                     the   brunette   is   now   standing   in   front   of   the   man   she   is   to   marry      ,      seeing   the   war   in   his   features      &      how   this   had   been   imposed   on   him   as   well      .      fingers   go   to   the   lace   of   her   dress      ,      a   curtsy   out   of   obligation   and   politeness   before   she   stands   correctly   once   more      .      '      I   apologize   if   I   am   late      ,      there   were   complications   back   home   that   had   to   be   addressed      .      I'm   Davina   Claire      ,   it's   a   pleasure   to   meet   you      .      '

#{ out of protection } #fallenregent