The Thickness of Blood | Private Roleplay
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The Thickness of Blood | Private Roleplay
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Posted 2023-09-10 16:33:35 (edited)
THIS FORUM IS RESERVED FOR Superb AND Maladi idalaM |
Superb #71174 |
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Posted 2023-09-10 16:33:49 (edited)
Name: Silas Eldridge Jaeger Marcotte Age: 24 Birthdate: August 16th, 1747 Gender: Male Sexuality: Hetero. Powers: Death-Blood Manipulation Strengths: Reliable, Intuitive, Combat/Reactiveness Weaknesses: Good nature, Peevish Species: Vampir Likes: Research, Problem-solving Dislikes: Being told no, Embarrassment, Deceit Skin Tone: Pale Olive Skin Hair Color: Raven-Black Hair Style: Short, relatively straight with minor kinks and curls Eye Color: Honey eyes with a deep red/crimson limbus Height: 6'3" Figure: Athletic-type build Marks/Disfigurements: Nicked scar on upper lip, more prominent scar on shoulder |
Superb #71174 |
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Posted 2023-09-10 16:44:34 (edited)
Titles;; Crown Princess Name;; Xanti Artemis Carolyn Juliette Faust Klauston Marcotte Age;; 19 Birthdate;; June 2nd, 1752 Gender;; Female Sexuality;; Heterosexual Strengths;; Poise, confidence, diplomacy Weaknesses;; Self-worth, strength, combat Species;; Half-Werewolf Hobbies;; Singing, reading, painting Parents;; King Theseus Faust and Jaina Klauston Relationships;; Silas Marcotte, husband Physical Description Human Form Skin tone;; Light Ivory Complexion;; Clear Hair Color;; Ginger Hair Style;; Curly, to her mid back Eye Color;; Hazel Height;; 5'5" Weight;; 125lbs Birthmarks;; Crescent shape on the back of her neck Wolf Form Reference image commissioned from ♥Amour! Primary Fur Color;; Ruddy Secondary Fur Color;; Chocolate brown Tertiary Fur Color;; Cream Underbelly Fur Color;; White Eye Color;; Golden Yellow Claw Color;; Black Leathers Color;; Pale Brown |
 💀 Maladi idalaM 💀 #1568 |
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Posted 2023-09-16 22:53:39
Of course, for all his talk he never once put up a fight against the request for her hand. The vampires always get what they want, he'd said. Including, apparently, his only child. His only heir. The queen, of course, took a perverse pleasure in the news. She had always resented the fact that the kingdom's heiress was not of her blood. Xanti was proof that the queen could not bear a child of her own, and that the king had to resort to concubines and courtesans for the future of Sanguine. Perhaps she didn't realize that with Xanti out of the picture, he would have to repeat that process of infidelity again. Although, this time she was sure to vet the women in her husband's bed more thoroughly. The queen held no lost love for Xanti's birth mother, due entirely to her blood. Worse than a commoner or even a peasant in her eyes. Xanti was not the first nor the last child on her mother's side, though she was the only one not to share her siblings' father. She didn't know all the circumstances surrounding her birth, but she knew it was something that made all of the adults in her life uncomfortable, if not downright livid. She had hardly been able to know the rest of her blood family, the queen forbidding her from most opportunities to interact with them. Xanti's defiance in these times had often been a point of contention between the two. And her father, of course, always took the queen's side. Lost in the thoughts burning her mind while her stomach tied itself in knots as she continued to recite her father's final instructions to her, Xanti startled as the carriage door opened, awaiting her exit. She hadn't realized they had arrived at the Vampire king's castle. Was the vampiric government a monarchy? She supposed it didn't very well matter if she was to be sacrificed soon. Did it make a difference if the vampire drinking her blood held any sort of title she was familiar with? Unlikely. These thoughts made her stomach clench as she accepted a servant's hand, offered to help her steadily exit the carriage. The view before her stole her breath from her throat, the opulence far beyond what she expected, even as a princess. The castle itself was gorgeous, and the grounds surrounding it no less so. Whoever cared for this place was certainly immaculate with its upkeep. Despite the beauty around her, Xanti could feel terror creeping up her spine at all the unknown that she was faced with. Still, she refused to shrink herself down or minimize herself. If she was to be a sacrifice for her people, she would face it with all the grace and poise she was taught as a princess. A handful of servants led her into the lavish castle, allowing her small moments to observe the carved marble pillars and arches. Xanti was shuffled through wide halls with vaulted ceilings, up staircases, twisting and turning through a path that even made her head spin. She tried to commit the route to memory, a force of habit from being raised in a castle herself, though she realized she likely would not walk it again. The tapestries and paintings on the walls caught her attention, and it saddened her that she wouldn't be able to appraise them more thoroughly. Eventually she was brought into a lavish bedroom rivaling the one she previously lived in, an airy space that sparkled in the midday sun, with soft furnishings of deep reds and gentle creams dotting the space. For a second time, her breath was stolen, leaving her compliant as the servants ushered her into an en-suite bathroom, prepared and waiting with a hot bath filled with scented oils, flower petals, and soft bubbles. Her brow creased with confusion, but she did not protest as the servants helped her out of her dress and into the massive bathtub. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to ask questions, but as the vampires around her cleaned her to their standards, she decided she had nothing to lose. "Will I be able to meet the one who purchased me?" Xanti asked, tilting her head back as her hair was tended to. The leader of the group smiled at her, though it was hard for her to tell the intent behind it. "You will be married to the Lord at sunset." Married? Was she not a sacrifice? She was sent with a dowry, but she didn't actually expect to be wed. Perhaps this was simply part of the process, that she had to be married before she was considered an acceptable sacrifice. "I was not sent here prepared to be a bride. I do not have an appropriate dress," she admitted. "The tailor will be around with a selection for you. Everything has already been prepared." |
💀 Maladi idalaM 💀 #1568 |
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Posted 2023-09-19 03:22:54 (edited)
His bedchamber, soon to accompany another in an intimate act of marital duties, was a change of tone compared to the rest of the palace. Curtains smothered the radiance of day, only a few rays peeked through the cracks just enough to make it possible to navigate the room without assisting light. The moodier tone was always preferred over the servant's regular task of drawing back the drapes. It helped him think. The covered windows overlooked a divine landscape, something rare for him to look upon in the middle of the day. When he did, it was when the moonlight kissed the land, a completely different beauty compared to the sun's harsh ambiance. Leaving the pondering of his land to the nighttime, he was left with exclusive paintings and tapestries that hung from the walls, a favorite touch other than the peaceful mood. The linens on his bed were just as exquisite as the paintings but told the story of a restless night of sleep with its twisted disarray. It seemed like the servants couldn't get to it just yet. Silas was a lucky man if he was able to get a sense of quiet during the day for more than five minutes. Tormented by decisions and daily duties, he learned to cherish small moments like this. However, it seemed as though that time was up as an interruption of hasty servants burst through the door. They all came prepared, each with their tasks to fulfill. That must've meant his bride-to-be had arrived. It was time for him to get ready. Today was momentous in the land of Vampirs. Not only was he to be married, an astonishing act no one expected from him in the first place, but he was to be married to the crown princess herself, Xanti Artemis Carolyn Juliette Faust. It was quite a day for both worlds, though he was sure the human kingdom wouldn't discuss the under-the-table exchange with their people. He never knew the time of marriage would come. He didn't know that taking an interest in the crown princess's tainted life would force such a thing upon them. The letter he got that day was still likely crumbled and hidden with other paperwork and manuscripts in a desk somewhere. Getting ready for an event usually took an hour or two, so it was to his surprise that it dragged out longer than that. By the time he was done, everything about him was made to be perfect. Even the scar on his upper lip seemed faultless. The sun had already begun to wither away, an array of pale pinks, oranges, and yellows peeked into his bedchamber through the now uncovered windowpanes. His uniform-like apparel embossed with deep blacks, burgundies, and golds, glistened under the fresh evening light. It was well-tailored to match his bride's specific taste yet stood different as a symbolic contrast compared to her likely lighter gown. A makeshift cloak sat heavily on his shoulders, holding the same color palette but mixed with laces and gems. To top it off, a sheer laced veil was placed loosely over his head, held in place by a crown of thorns and fine blood jewels. More mask-like than an actual veil, its simple role was to cover his crimson-bordered honey eyes, sheer enough for her to see the mere outline underneath while his lips, jaw, and nose were unhidden. All was a simple custom in the weddings of Vampirs, a symbol of not manipulating their partner into love with their eyes. The intentions behind this wedding contested that. However, no matter the reason behind their arranged marriage, the deepening flutter in his stomach spoke most of the anticipating excitement he had for being able to lay his eyes upon the crown princess that he was soon to call his from this day forward. |
Superb #71174 |
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Posted 2023-09-20 23:58:35
"Do you know how you would like your hair done?" she asked. "My hair?" "It's your wedding, pet. Surely you have something special in mind?" Surely. The queen had always told her she would not allow frivolous expenses for something as trivial as Xanti's wedding. When maids had returned to the castle after their own weddings and honeymoons, describing their dress and their hair and their dancing, the queen had always turned her nose up at the starry look in her eyes. 'You may be called princess, but you're just a bastard child in the end. No man would ever care for you enough that you wouldn't make a fool of yourself at a wedding, dreaming of love while all he wants is your title.' Xanti cleared her throat as she pushed the memories from her mind, before taking a deep breath to push back the emotions that threatened to mist her eyes. "I would like a style that is traditional for the vampiric people," she managed, her memories stealing her away for a moment longer before she was able to force a smile to the older woman. Her handmaidens exchanged a look she could not quite decipher, but decided was overall positive, before they each began various tasks to fulfill her request. She felt as though each wave in her hair was being brushed out individually before being wrapped tightly around a jagged wand that, after her hair dried around it, left it with an acute texture that she had never seen before, yet seemed more voluminous than she'd ever seen it. Two small sections had been spared this treatment, their natural curls preserved to frame either side of her face while the rest of her hair was gathered into a high ponytail, from there being arranged in various places with beautiful combs and pins. "What are your names?" the young princess asked, a soft curiosity in her tone as her eyes followed the women around her. The eldest smiled at her, and she found her shoulders releasing tension she hadn't been completely aware of as the warmth of the expression radiated towards her. "I am formally named Brigitte, but I prefer to be known as Maman." The other women giggled to each other, before the one to her right answered. "I am Lilith, and to your left is Jezebel." Xanti chanted the names to herself, making sure she would commit them to memory. "Thank you, Maman, Lilith, and Jezebel. I would be quite lost without you here." "It's our pleasure to assist, princess," Jezebel insisted. Idle chatter filled the room, mostly between Lilith and Jezebel, who occasionally directed questions towards Xanti about her life before that day. Questions she had to be careful answering, for the most part. Her father and the queen had been very clear on what parts of her old home life she was allowed to share with others and what parts would be "poor taste." Eventually, however, they were interrupted by a knocking on the chamber door, and as Maman opened it, multiple racks of dresses were brought in. All of them were beautiful, and even from a distance Xanti could see they were made by a skilled hand. Many of them had the floral patterns and open skirts she recognized from boutiques as the popular choice for a wedding gown, but there were others that also caught her eye. The tailor himself was quite enthusiastic, eager to answer any questions she had about the garments. "What would a traditional dress for a vampire look like?" she asked, looking up from the dress she had been inspecting as she heard Maman stifle a chuckle. "We are known as vampir, pet. Vampire comes from a mistranslation, or sorts. "As for tradition, there is no single style. It is up to your own personal taste. Mine was a golden color with black accents,but I wouldn't have called it a common dress or style." Xanti nodded, mostly to herself, as she was corrected. Vampir. She would have to remember that. It would be unacceptable to make such a grave error a second time. As her attention shifted back to the dresses, she considered the few there were supposedly made for "her" kind. Ultimately, she wasn't very thrilled with any of them, and moved on to other racks with more vibrant dresses that seemed to be the norm for vampir. It was a deep red dress with a sweetheart neckline that caught her eye, the open skirt showing off a ruffled silk bodice in a soft cream, much like the fabrics of the room they were currently in. Dark green thread embroidered ivy patterns along the hidden hemlines, with red thread and rubies arranged in flowers, blending into the main fabric to provide subtle texture. The sleeves were off the shoulder, long and slim, looking as though they would contour down her arms, unlike the flared, three-quarter sleeves of the human dresses. "I quite like this," she breathed, feeling the fabric between her fingers in a daze before it was suddenly taken off the rack and she was ushered to the middle of the room to try it on. "I'm afraid there's no time for a proper fitting—I'm a tailor, not a miracle worker—but I have plenty of fixes up my sleeves and no one will be the wiser. You'll look stunning, and afterwards I'll handle adjusting it properly." Xanti absently nodded along as he spoke, not really following, but wanting to remain agreeable. Would there be any purpose in tailoring the dress to her? Perhaps she would be sacrificed in it, but surely these fixes would be sufficient for that if they were sufficient for a wedding. They were questions she would not be getting answers to, as the sun began to set and she was swiftly ushered through more and more twisting hallways until Maman stood with her alone just outside a ceremony hall. "This is nothing to worry about, pet," the older woman insisted as she handed Xanti a bouquet of roses, moonflowers and sunflowers. "The doors will open and you'll walk to the front of the room, the Lord will be waiting. This is very important: you must follow the ceremony to your own will. It won't work if you are not freely participating. You can take your time. You can say no. As long as it comes from you, it will all be okay." Her head was spinning. It was too much to process. She neededtime. She had none. The doors were open, her breath was caught in her throat, and her legs carried her forward on their own, towards a man of unnatural beauty she could only assume was to be her groom. |
💀 Maladi idalaM 💀 #1568 |
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Posted 2023-09-23 04:35:48
As time drew on into what felt to be years, the flutter in his chest shifted more and more into worry, coiling downhill into a mess of what if thoughts. His veiled eyes were embedded in those doors, searing through them if he could, begging them to open. Finally, the long-winded wish that played out in his head was granted. The doors had opened. The room edged in fine marble and carved stones sparkled from the windows' stained-glass ambiance, dazzling colors as the sunset outside neared its end. The audience couldn't help but shift their gaze to the new astonishing element entering the room as a subtle tune chimed throughout the hall. Minor gasps of awe couldn't be helped but were all respectable enough to not draw away Silas's enthralled eyes. There stood and walked the woman he had nervously longed for. The pigmented purples, blues, and greens of the audience couldn't compare to her bold choice of color. The deep crimson color was what he noticed first, a blood-like temptation contoured by creams, greens, and ruby reds. It was a perfectly chosen statement piece. So, this was the crown princess, Xanti. As she drew closer, he couldn't help but scan every part of her; every curve, every movement, all from head to toe. Yet, it took multiple times to study her in a feat to make sure she wasn't a figment of his imagination before he settled upon her bright hazel eyes. The more he settled into his gaze, the more he was drawn to her. The hazel coloration was striking, a distinct color that never seemed to prevail in the vampiric people. Beauty like that just couldn't be matched. However, the more he came to stare, the more he could sense something was off. Silas didn't know what made him draw up the allegedly absurd questions, but it was something that he couldn't help but wonder. Did she even know that she was getting married to him today? Did she know about the obligatory tasks in and after this wedding? He gulped. She edged even closer. Upon her arrival at the altar, he was rather quick to confidently turn away from her and toward the officiant who led the wedding, neglecting the compliment that she probably hoped to receive. That was only the start as he spiraled into a natural refusal to shift his gaze toward his bride even after that. Listening intently as the words began to fall from the officiant's mouth, something about a pledge to each other and the bond between vampir and human, Xanti had faded into a mere presence next to him. In times of need, he gave agreeable remarks toward the officiant's questions but nothing more. Even the exchanging of rings was a reserved stone-cold act. Eventually, the time to be Bloodsworn to each other had come. Had it been a strict vampiric wedding, it would be the last step of the ceremony. Yet, he couldn't help but include a human tradition afterward as well in respect of her lineage. The blood oath was simple, explained with ease by the officiant; an act of biting into their wrist as a blood offering for the other, something surely more appealing to him than it was to her. They would drink, and they would both soon come to realize the power it held in their bond. Turning toward her after the sudden spell of his ignoring carelessness, he finally turned to grasp both of her hands, taking notice of the gemstone he had just placed on her finger. Silas's hands were significantly larger than hers, tenderly enclosing them in a shield of warmth as if hers were fragile enough to break under his grip. His eyes dashed to meet hers, dancing in the hope that she would return the gazing gesture, but he wasn't sure she would take notice under his sheer but prominent veil-like mask. Leaning forward, close enough to meet his breath to her ear, he couldn't help but allow a subtle shuttering exhale to escape him. Finally, he came to speak. "It'll taste bitter, but I promise It will only last a moment." His soft-spoken words were smooth like silk, gentle and trusting. He allowed his fingers to cordially open her hand, palm side up, before a sharp display of fangs met his wrist. The warmth of bright red blood flowed steadily from the puncture, down his wrist, and into his hand. Preventing any from going to waste, he allowed his wrist to settle into her open hand until she was ready to drink. |
Superb #71174 |
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Posted 2023-09-27 12:34:15 (edited)
The young princess had to mentally shove these thoughts from bouncing around her skull as she approached her groom. She hadn't dared to let her gaze wander to the hundreds, perhaps even thousands of vampir present. She was not entirely sure of the etiquette of a wedding, human or otherwise, as it was not something the queen had deemed necessary for her tutors to go over just yet, despite her already being nineteen and thus well into her debutante years, but everything she had learned growing up in high society told her not to look away from the vampir she would soon call her husband. The thought pulled her stomach into knots, and it was not clear to her whether it was from fear, or perhaps excitement. The fact that her handmaidens had made sure she was wearing the appropriate lingerie under her dress had been quite telling, after all. Her hazel eyes were wide as she allowed herself to subtly study her husband-to-be while she approached. His clothing was immaculate, though she supposed she should expect nothing less from a man of his status. The colors complimented him well, though she was disappointed she could not see his eyes. Was a veil customary? Should she be wearing one? Or was this particular tradition perhaps due to the rumors that vampir could use a mystical compulsion ability on any human who met their gaze, and thus wasn't necessary for her? She desperately wished she knew. She wished she had been afforded time to prepare and study properly for her own wedding. Everyone she had spoken to about weddings had told her they were the best days of their lives, but she was so confused and blindsided, she wasn't entirely sure she could properly enjoy her beautiful dress, the attention, even her groom's gaze studying her. True, she could not make out his eyes, but the closer she came to him the warmer her body felt under his scrutiny. Had he known what she looked like before selecting her? If not, was he pleased with her now? She knew the thought was pointless. All of this fuss was just to prepare her to be sacrificed, right? He was likely repulsed by her. It made sense. After all, she was half-werewolf. While humans had been living under the careful scrutiny of both, it was no secret that werewolves and vampir despised each other. Every so often someone like her would appear, a half-were or a dhampir hiding among the regular human populace, but as far as she was aware, such a hybrid had never been observed between vampir and werewolves. They were at a tentative peace, of sorts, brokered by both population's interest in access to the human kingdom, but it was strained at best and completely antagonistic at worst. Her thoughts were interrupted as she at last found herself standing next to the Vampir Lord, and the interaction, or rather the lack thereof, served to confirm her fears. He must hate her as much as any other werewolf or half-were. She willed herself to follow his lead, to train her attention on the officiant and give calm, even responses when prompted. Even the exchanging of rings was a mechanical, withdrawn procedure, leaving her no time to truly admire either piece of jewelry before she was pulled back into the ceremony. Bloodsworn? Xanti had never heard of such a thing, though as she dwelled on it she decided it certainly made sense, given the vampir's connection to blood. Another nervous knot formed low in her stomach as the details were explained to her, and it was this internal fretting that nearly caused her to startle as her groom's hands enclosed around hers. No. The officiant had said his name. Silas. As Silas's hands enclosed around hers, her eyes cautiously drew upwards to find him staring back at her. Though she could not discern their color, the veil he wore was sheer enough that she was positive he had indeed met her gaze. The knots in her stomach tightened. And again they tightened as she felt his warm breath and heard his soothing words graze her ear. Bitter? Did he not… no, of course he knew. Her father and the queen were surely intelligent enough that they would not withhold her parentage from the vampir who purchased her hand in marriage. Surely he knew, and was just not aware of how werewolves themselves enjoyed blood. Though it was not as sacred to them as it was to vampires, a race that delighted in the hunt, and the kill, was no stranger to the delight of warm blood. Xanti's eyes widened just a fraction as blood flowed into Silas's palm. It took all of her concentration to keep from trembling as she lifted his hand towards her, smothering all of the instincts screaming at her from the depths of her mind where the wolf inside of her slumbered. Her eyes flicked to meet his once again, just for a moment, before she tipped his palm towards her and allowed the pooled blood to drain into her mouth. Warmth flooded her senses as the delectable taste coated her tongue. She restrained every compulsion begging her to take every drop she could, to lick his palm clean and trace up to the still oozing wound. Yet despite her discipline as a princess holding her back, there was no doubt that something wild had unlocked in her eyes as she pulled back from the source of nutrition her very being had begged for every day she had been alive. The queen had never allowed her to enjoy such things in the castle. Meat had to be cooked to well done for her meals, and even wine was prohibited in case it was "too similar." It had left her weak in many senses of the word, and Silas's offering in this ceremony had been a key unlocking a caged bird. She already craved more. But it was her turn now. And if she, as merely a half-were, had such a visceral reaction to his blood, she could only imagine how he would respond to hers as a proper vampir. Though, being fair to herself, he likely wasn't as starved for it as she was. She drew her wrist to her mouth, biting into the skin in vain to break open her veins like he had for her. Was the problem her teeth? Even trying to will out only the sharper canines she could achieve with a half shift, her skin would not break for her. A low, wolfish growl that she could feel rather than hear rumbled in her chest. She knew it was not that difficult. She had received many scrapes and cuts over her nineteen years of life. But her mind could not convince her heart to harm herself, even in the face of such an important ceremony. Her people depended on her. She had to do this. "I'm sorry," she finally whispered, her eyes misty and desperate as she offered the irritated but unpunctured wrist to her groom. "I tried, I want to, but I can't…" Surely it would be okay if he broke the skin himself? It was still a willing offer, and that was what Maman said mattered in the end, right? What would happen to her, to the humans if this wasn't okay? |
💀 Maladi idalaM 💀 #1568 |
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Posted 2023-09-30 21:54:08
His eyes drained into a sense of amusement as she brought her wrist to her blood-kissed lips in an attempt to quench this thirst of his. However, the anticipation of waiting to see the swell of blood form around her teeth was quick to fade as she began to struggle. Turning to seek guidance from the officiant, he was barely able to speak a word before he heard a quaint voice lift from her. Her first words to him were shy and reluctant, twisted in an ounce of frustration, yet an angelic tune that he wanted to hear again. Partially smitten with the feeling of wanting to memorize the sound of her voice, her words didn't strike meaning in him until he was offered her wrist. It took what felt to be minutes before he could reply to her words, but even then, it was a reply of pure silence. He froze like a deer in headlights. Eyes wild in nervous disbelief, even his lips twitched before pulling into a shy smile. Silas was never known to be a nervous man. Captivating? Yes. Bashful at times? Sure. But never was he faced with an outward sense of nervousness like this. The longer he allowed her actions to sink in, the more uncertainty sank its claws into him. Surely, he couldn't be the only one feeling this way? The gnawing nervousness that never seemed to leave was extinguished in a matter of seconds by an avid rush of excitement. Xanti wasn't the first human to struggle with piercing their skin during a blood-swearing ritual, a counterproductive form of genetics was to blame if he must say so himself. In preparation for a wedding, most would know to seek guidance from the officiant, who would then offer a knife so they could pierce their skin. So why didn't she? Was he wrong to expect more out of the crown princess? Or did she truly not understand what her actions meant to a vampir? Silas's lips grew thin, trying to hide the smile that he allowed to slip just moments before. What would they think of her promiscuous behavior? None of that mattered now as his instinct's patience began to wear thin. He was faced with a driving sense to flash his eyes to their audience as a warning to avoid their gazes, but he couldn't seem to divert his attention from her no matter how hard he tried. Instead, he flicked his fingers to prevent the officiant from offering the ritualistic knife used on many humans before. How could he deny something like this, even if it were in a formal setting? His fingers were, at first, hesitant to seize her irritated wrist, but once they did, he allowed his thumb to gently rub over the flushed skin of her unsuccessful attempt. Silas didn't have a choice but to act brazenly in this matter. He found himself leaning toward her once again, closer than he had the first time. This time, his lips almost touched her, his breath closer, his body nearly against her. "Darling," He couldn't help but effortlessly whisper the nickname of fondness. His warm, crimson-wrapped honey eyes targeted her hazel ones, flushed cheeks close behind. "They would've offered you a knife to use instead of allowing you to struggle," His informative words shivered with concern but still fell edgy as he forced down the sound of pleasure. The fangs that were already prepared to fulfill her wish was something that couldn't be helped; a feverish emotion was enough to draw them out in the first place, and once they were out, there was no hiding them until they got their way. "We might as well do more if I'm to do this in front of this many people." His words were a mere whisper, something that only she could hear, yet his forced, serious smile and expression seemed to drain into a shattered look of guilt. It was a regretful look that made it clear that he had followed his instincts rather than thinking before he spoke. Had he been too blunt? Silas leaned away in an effort to uphold a formality between them. His fingers slipped from her wrist and formed a sturdy grip over her hand, his lips naturally drawing closer to her skin. He gave a delicate squeeze to her hand in an attempt to distract her from what he was about to do. The bite was quick and regretfully minor, puncturing the skin only enough for the ceremony with disregard to his instinct. At first, the taste drew him in, a natural craving for more that could've easily taken over his whole body if he allowed it, but it was mere seconds later that his senses began to burn under the temptation. It was enough to pull him away from her, to wrinkle his nose for an unnoticeable second. It was surely different. As soon as the burning discovery came, it was soon to drain away into something sweet and satisfying, a chain reaction that he hated to admit that he had never tasted before. Yet, he knew then and there that this new discovery was going to become an addiction of his. From the moment his lips lifted from her skin, it was then and there that their bond would hold, left to form and grow stronger as the night went on. A declaration of marriage was voiced by the officiant as Silas tied a makeshift bandage of fabric around her wrist to stop the bleeding and allowed her to do the same afterward. Although, he couldn't let the overbearing sound of applause to call an end to the ceremony. A sense of confidence swelled up in him, quickly fading away in a territory of unfamiliarity as he allowed his blood-tainted lips to meet hers as a final act of the wedding. The crown princess of Sanguine was now his and he was now hers. |
Superb #71174 |
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Posted 2023-10-06 01:36:27 (edited)
Why was he taking so long to answer her? Was he truly that insulted by her request? She hated not knowing things. Especially when it came to how to act in social settings. She was a princess, how to behave in any situation she found herself in should be second nature to her. Nobody had told her, nobody had warned her. Should she retract her hand? She wanted to. Her arm ached with the tension required to keep it stretched out to her groom. Before she could make the decision, however, Silas's long, delicate fingers closed around her wrist, his thumb attempting to soothe the angry imprints her teeth had left in her skin. He moved closer to her. Far closer than she expected. He was quickly all that she could see, impossibly close and warm, with an aura of danger she couldn't help but find delectably thrilling. Darling, he called her, stealing away her breath as her swirling hazel eyes met his. The things she would give to hear that sweet endearment from him again. She didn't know where it came from, but she certainly didn't hate it. A knife? A knife? Why hadn't anybody told her about this beforehand? Why hadn't she been prepared for her own wedding? Xanti's cheeks flooded red with shame as she just slightly turned her face to hide away from the audience. How foolish they must believe her to be. Not that it mattered much. She was certain their spectators already hated her, and were waiting for her death. Whenever that may come. She was so lost in her thoughts, she almost failed to catch his next words to her. More? What more could he… Surely not? She could not mask her quizzical expression towards him as her mind puzzled over his statement. Surely he could not be implying that drinking her blood was a scandalous action when she had drunk his just moments before? Her hand trembled as his fingers firmly closed around it, her eyes wide and innocent as she felt his heated breath against her skin. The pierce of his fangs was sharp, and try as she might she couldn't find it within herself to smother the whimper in her throat which accompanied it. The sting was soothed almost instantly, and with it came a feeling she couldn't quite describe to herself. It was almost chilling, creeping up her spine, but still warm and inviting. It was decidedly nice, for as long as his teeth had punctured her skin and her blood flowed into his mouth. Even as he pulled away, a warmth blossomed in her chest as the skin just under her collarbone tingled. She glanced down whilst her new husband wrapped a bandage around her wrist, to see an inky symbol she couldn't quite make out appearing. Was this what it meant to be Bloodsworn? Bound to each other by a magical force only the vampir understood? Once again she was torn from her thoughts as she realized she needed to bandage Silas's wrist as he had hers. Her cheeks retained their red stain as she gingerly tied the cloth around the wound he had inflicted upon himself, taking care to make it snug without tying the knot too tightly. The vampir around them certainly seemed excited at the close of the ceremony, but Xanti found it hard to discern the emotions floating in the air around them. Not that she had much time to contemplate those things, as her lips were claimed by the Lord of the Vampir. Her eyes drifted shut as she leaned into the kiss that sealed her marriage in human tradition. She was officially a married woman, bound to Silas for the rest of her life, however short it may be. The blood that lingered on both of their lips mixed and slid into her mouth, drawing her deeper into the smoldering kiss and the passion brewing between them. And yet, it was not to last. Eventually their kiss was broken and Xanti found herself swept back up the aisle that she felt she had walked down both seconds ago, and lifetimes ago. Her gaze carefully drew upwards to examine her husband's face, still partially hidden by his veil, as they walked through the castle, towards delicious smells she could only assume to be a banquet to celebrate their newlywed status. Even after being so close to him throughout the ceremony, she was still made breathless by how handsome her husband was. It was one thing to hear all the rumors humans passed around about vampir and their unearthly beauty, and another thing entirely to be faced with it herself. No matter what the future had in store for her, she supposed enjoying this piece of good fortune wouldn't hurt her at all. "Are there any traditions or social graces I should be aware of pertaining to the rest of the evening?" she managed to timidly ask once they were relatively alone on their walk. |
💀 Maladi idalaM 💀 #1568 |