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This blog is an independent roleplay account for Noctis Lucis Caelum.

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neck kissing is honestly the hottest, most seductive thing anybody could ever do to me. if you kiss my neck, if you playfully bite my neck, if your tongue touches my neck i will melt in your fingertips.

(via inmxrtalis)





novilis:

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She is expecting his arrival, informed of it the moment he decides to step within the boundaries of her country. But, ah, she’s expected it, after all— she has invited him to view the beauty of her homeland, and perhaps she feels the slightest bit nervous. Will he be pleased by the environment, the setting? Tenebrae is obviously not as well endowed as Lucis, but it retains it’s own simplistic graciousness— all of which are perhaps reflected within the Fleuret daughter herself. And the aristocrat’s entrance is not unimpressive: there is grandeur in the way she holds the entirety of her outward appearance. Confidence rides upon her shoulders and there’s a congenial curve to roseate tiers as she descends the main steps towards the approaching male. Admittedly, there is excitement within her, and her smile grows only wider in welcome as she finally meets him, steps light and posture straight. 

I do hope your trip here was well made." A nod to her two guards and they are dismissed as she turns partially to a large door to the right. "Come. Shall I give you a tour? Or perhaps you have not yet had a bite to eat?

'Twas had been such a peculiar experience, he was not certain as to why it had been an iterating occurrence but the umbrageous prince being finely tuned to the blonde Fleuretian had ensued as long as he could remember. Forsooth, the cognizance had initially unsettled him—he was quite aware that they shared a connexion, but he was uncertain concerning how deep the aforementioned was nor would there be a prospect of him being used to the discovery for quite some time.  Therein whilst balmoral-concealed feet met the surface of the pristine floor as he came to a cessation a few feet behind the guards, he sensed her presence in which was analogous to whispers of the quiescent winds, subsequent to perceiving the clicking of heels that gave the connotation of an individual whom was groomed by the Lucullan lifestyle of elegance and regality. A reminiscent exhalation of a breath departed from his oral aperture and a ghost of an amicable smile flirted upon his lips once he espied her appearance and a glint of approval manifested itself within pools of effulgent oceans as a curtesy of the head was given, thus acknowledging her arrival before him ere proceeding to provide her with a greeting of his own in a gesticulation that was a part of the Lucis custom.

Exserting an appendage forthward, the raven-haired male encompassed the entirety of her hand within his palm and rising the aforementioned acclivitous under the guidance of his own, peach-lacquered tiers brushed atop of the creamy canvas, bestowing her with a parting osculation antecedent to speaking. “Stella.” Two phonetic syllables was uttered as a susurration was bequeathed unto her. “It has been a while, but my travels has been a pleasant experience nonetheless. I apologize for the delay as I had to visit the Lucis ambassador in the embassy, but I hope you don’t mind if we eat first as I’m afraid I am quite in need of food.”





venatrixque:

paxadox

n-o-x-c-r-i-s-t-a-u-x

hopes-remains

wingedsaint

topiracy

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                  “Are you guys just here to stare, or can I help ya with somethin’?

Immediately upon perceiving the feminine intonations in which was he was unfamiliar with, twin pools of azure flickered in an expeditious manner as his head was turned in a longitudinal direction, falling out of introspection once he became cognizant of the fact that he was gazing at her quite blatantly for quite some time. Curling pallid digits inwardly within the palms of his hands, cerise folds pursed into a tenuous line and the apples of his cheeks were dusted with a light pink hue afore responding to her inquiry at hand. “Sorry.” A murmur eased pass his lips as the tonality of his voice conveyed how apologetic and sheepish he had felt. “I suppose I was lost in my thoughts. It wasn’t my intention to stare.”





masochisticsadist:

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“—I apologize for keeping you waiting so long.” A tilt of a crown adorned in lustrous tresses follows hereafter, bare arms extending outwards with the poise of a danseuse, she peers at him from several feet behind him and quickens her intrepid gait, the adroitness of running atop soil mastered and obtained through virtue of fighting heinously in heels for nearly a score’s time and when she finally catches up with him—suspiring wistfully in tandem to saturating herself in the wildlife around her, sublimity at its finest—she blinks languidly, thrice ere her expression softening considerably, fingers fumbling maladroitly with themselves, a carmine hue dusting over the pallidity of her cheeks but she still stands, straightening her back and remaining stationary, a bit embarrassed apropos to the rose within his hands. “…You don’t need to get me things, ta… Now I need to find something for you.”

Humorously spoken, of course.

“Does my being flattered count as an appropriate gift?”

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Relinquishing a suspiration from the confines of his mouth, elongated lashes were cast aflutter, lowering to fan over the apples of his cheeks as his head rose to an ascension towards the aforementioned skies and slowly an inhalation was taken, perceiving the aroma of various flora alongst the familiarized scent of his inamoratain which triggered a sense of recognition within him afore a verbalization was offered in turn. “You had me waiting quite a while, ‘Hana. What were you doing the whole time while I was outside?” A murmur eased pass cerise folds; although there was a semblance that was present in which could give the impression he was irate, a hint of faint amusement was laced within the tonality of his voice. Allowing thick lashes to rise acclivitous under the guidance of alabastrine lids, a glint swam within twin chalcanthite optics—a denotation that he was feeling quite puckish, which was a facet of his personality the prince occasionally indulged in—once they ensnared pools of smaragdine and the corners of his lips quirked upward in a ghost of a simper as he spoke. “Ah, this—?” Performing a gesticulation with the crimson rose held within the palm of his hand, the flower was twirled within the interstices of his fingers . “Sorry, but I’m afraid this rose isn’t for you. A maid was nice enough to give this to me as a gift for helping her with her shoe, but you should sit down and keep me company.”





Spontaneity compelled the prince to seek the Fleuretian, balmoral concealed feet traipsing upon the surface in a quiescent manner through the majestic corridors of the Tenebraen kingdom, idly following the two guards from a safe distance. Forsooth, this was a terrain in which the raven-haired male was unfamiliar with as the reasoning behind him stepping foot upon foreign soil was simply due to him accepting the blonde’s invitation to visit her country and unable to resist the temptation to travel, he acquiesced to his impulsive desires and departed from the metropolis in the dusk of the day. Certes, the kingdom was very much unlike his own, though no less impressive in sight and although he truly wish to explore in which Tenebrae had to offer, Stella was expecting him in any moment as it has been quiet some time since they had last seen one another.





exnatura:

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  ❝ — are you okay? ❞

Such a peculiar query, it was, out of all wherein the brunette could have chosen to express. Iwis, it was not to say that the prince had never receive the aforementioned inquiry—nay, it was not per se, but he certainly did not understand what compelled her to do so, ergo, whilst discombobulation was evinced upon the mien of his physiognomy, cerise-lacquered folds dichotomized as a response was given in turn. “I’m not sure what you mean by your question, unless there is something wrong with my face—-?”





springhealer:

   —-A soldier.

                                ‘Is that what I am?
                 She fought, she protected, she stormed.

                                      {A soldier. That’s what I am.}

Funny how she had never thought of it as such — perhaps during the war she had, but on missions? She had always merely seen herself as a ninja. Never the word ‘soldier’. “——Huh. I guess I am.”

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            “Though, we’re referred to as shinobi. I guess you could
             see that as a certain kind of soldier. I suppose we’re seen
             more as assassins than soldiers.”

Allowing an exiguous hum to depart from the confines of his mouth, it was then wherein a curtsey of the head was given, inducing Stygian rivers of silken tendrils to sway in languid motions afore leaning forthward in a slightly bent position, settling twin appendages atop of the eburnine rail and performing a flexion of the elbows, both alabastrine manus rose acclivitous for the sake of resting beneath the underside of his jawline whilst a murmur was expressed. “A shinobi… …” —-A ninja. Ah yes, he had certainly heard stories concerning the aforestated, though it was more so treated as naught but a myth. “I believe a shinobi would be synonymous to a soldier. You are here to make a difference and it is your duty to serve and defend your home from enemies, aren’t you? Either way, I don’t see many similarities between that and an assassin. I believe they are both different.”





Christine Feehan, Turbulent Sea
high resolution →

Christine Feehan, Turbulent Sea

(via sanguinesaint)




Therein the prince sat upon the blanket in which laid atop of the grassy-laden ground, pools of lapis lazuli gazing at the celestial skies whilst pallid extremities subconsciously encompassed the entirety of a red rose within his grasp. Forsooth, it was not ofttimes wherein the raven-haired male found himself outside of the kingdom walls, for his leisure time is naught but seldom; natheless, he had felt that it was nigh the day for him and his inamorata to do so, for the time they had spent together was much too far apart to warrant otherwise.





If I told you what I was,
                           would youтυяи your [ back ] on me?
And if I seem dangerous,
                             would you be  s c a r e d?

(via meowgito)