rcyalist

[rcyalist]

KYLE MANUEL VALENTI Roswell, New Mexico | “Kiss From A Rose” (4.06)

[rcyalist]

ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ. || carlos. || @courtesons​​​

Navigating the social dynamics of ultra-wealthy society, royal or otherwise, was always somewhat tricky for Carlos for a number of reasons. Chief among the slew of problems was his natural charisma often working in unison with his lack of boundaries. In most cases, if one enters the private pool area of a villa costing almost fifty thousand dollars per night, they wouldn’t sit next to the one other person there. in most cases, however, people are not Carlos.

With a towel over his shoulder, a bottle in one and and two shot glasses in the other, Carlos perched himself on a rattan lounge chair. “You wouldn’t happen to be in the mood to get drunk, would you?” He asked, raising both hands into the others eyeline. “It’s expensive, unopened and I’m not a creep. Scouts honor.”

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ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ. || henri. || @euphoriaemporiae​​ 

The low thump of bass notes seemed to align perfectly with henri’s walk as he moved through the scattered groups of a few hundred of his closest friends and family. His birthday wasn’t, nor had it even been, a particularly private affair. The Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte had been renovated, at least aesthetically, to his exact specifications. Every drape, every light tone, every bow tie on every wait. Even the detailing of engraved utensils passed desk months ago. Just because the event isn’t intimate doesn’t mean it’s not exclusive. 

Nothing, save his own attendance, embodied that exclusivity more the final congregation to warrant his personal attention. Of the group of ten, he recognized them all—a rare occurrence—but only remembered two of their names. First, with her sweep of rock star hair obscuring one eye, was Emmanuelle Alt, the editor in chief of Vogue Paris. The second, standing further away from the crowd near the purple-lit bar, was a striking silhouette Henri would recognize anywhere.

With a few compulsory greetings and half hearted exchanges out of the way, the Dauphin move toward the increasingly elusive Cormac. “I recently heard you had filed your teeth into points and you eyes are black with rage... Yet, here you are, as lovely as a sunny day.” Henri teased, a smile forming over his lips as he reached for a cherry red kir being offered by the bar tender. “You need to come out of the house more often, Cormac. Put some of those nasty rumors to bed.”

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u ever just wanna…….suck on his fingers

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when ur hanging out in ur apartment u’ve got some candles lit ur feeling good u’ve had 8 glasses of wine then down in the street u hear two beautiful boys skateboarding or doing flips or something so u invite them up and they say where’s the bed and they ask if they can sit on the bed and u tell them sure but the sheets are expensive japanese linen and they tell u they’re not even soft:

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Eclipse, Stephenie Meyer (2007)

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Tyler Blackburn

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[ 𝖑𝖆𝖜𝖘 ] [ 𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘 ] [ 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙 ]  

rcyalist is a multi-muse, adult ( 18+ ) only, indie roleplaying blog centered on fictitious royal families. my name is cole, please read my rules before interacting, check out my muses and feel free to come say hi!

[rcyalist]

i’m just a simple man with ( ♔ sixty-five royal muses ♔ ) asking you to please like this post for a starter. if you’re extra cool and want to specify which muse you’d like it from... that’d be real extra cool of you. and if you have a royal verse?? damn that’d be real extra double cool.

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