this blog is now archived. i’ve followed some mutuals on my new account but lmk if you’d like my url!
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@acataelepsie
this blog is now archived. i’ve followed some mutuals on my new account but lmk if you’d like my url!
hello, not sure if anyone is really following me anymore since i had such a long hiatus, but i will be archiving this blog and starting fresh elsewhere. if you're still around and would like to reconnect, please let me know and i'll message you my new blog. sorry i've been gone so long.
achilles to patroclus: i wasn’t fooled. i knew you at once.
patroclus would have normally holed up in his apartment with his studies on any other night, but he had been convinced by his peers to attend what would apparently be the biggest party of the year. he hadn't given that much weight though because that’s what they said about every greek party. the theme, however, was supposed to fall in line with the summer solstice and there was going to be a bonfire too. ( something about an offering to the gods. ) he was handed a mask that looked like it had come straight off the set of some witchy or faerie production and told to dress however it inspired him.
so here he was, sipping on spiked cider by the lakeside, gazing at the throng of half-naked cohorts, and wondering how the hell he was going to get home when someone with a familiar mop of blonde hair approached him. specks of gold body glitter caught the firelight of the bonfire as patroclus leaned closer so he wouldn’t have to shout over the crowd. “ i’m impressed. even the people I came here with haven’t recognized me. what was it that gave me away? ”
mishka to ekaterina: what do you need ? — what can i do ?
“ just a moment of reprieve, ” was murmured into the palm of her hands. the exhaustion hung heavy on her frame, weighing her bones down like anchors dragging at the bottom of the sea. her duty was to remain within the confines of her parlor and support her people, but every night the guns went off and death was closing in. “ there’s only so much I can do — ” they were losing the war; that much was clear. she hadn’t slept in days. “ — and I wonder if I must surrender to save them. ”
↪ 𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 𝑨𝑻 𝟑 𝑨.𝑴 . ( a series of sentence starters from sylvia plath’s “ the collected poems ” . adjust phrasing as necessary .)
my mendings itch . there’s nothing to do .
what ceremony of words can patch the havoc ?
stop crying . open your hand .
it is a terrible thing , to be so open .
i am too pure for you or anyone .
it’s easy to blame the dark .
how free it is , you have no idea how free .
it must be one or the other of us .
it was a kind of marriage , being so close .
nobody sees us .
i couldn’t sleep for a week .
it is comfortable , for a change , to mean so little.
tell me i’m here .
your room is lousy with flowers .
now i resemble a sort of god .
nobody can tell what i lack .
i suppose it’s pointless to think of you at all .
i can stay awake all night , if need be .
this is not what i meant .
i can’t get it out of my mind .
when you kick me out , that’s what i’ll remember .
i wasn’t fooled . i knew you at once .
if the moon smiled , she would resemble you .
your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing .
perfection is terrible .
i do not trust the spirit .
one day , it won’t come back .
they will wonder if i was important .
oh god , i am not like you .
there is no stopping it .
we have come so far , it’s over .
tonight will be , in every respect , like every other night .
that’s how you always talk before we start .
if i didn’t trust you at this , i wouldn’t trust myself .
at least i feel less dread of the world beyond ours .
i admit it : i’m afraid .
don’t be so smart .
i dreamed of doing it , and now it’s done .
earth is my haunt .
what manner of business are you on ?
perhaps you’ve late quitted heaven ?
i shall never grow old .
sugar can cure everything .
is there no way out of the mind ?
there are no trees or birds in this world .
this is what i am made of , this and terror .
why is it so quiet , what are they hiding ?
this is what it is to be complete .
is he wearing pajamas or an evening suit ?
the police love you , you confess everything .
is my life so intriguing ?
where are you going that you suck breath like mileage ?
you flicker . i cannot touch you .
if i could bleed , or sleep ! if my mouth could marry a hurt like that !
what did they know that i didn’t ?
you say you can’t stand her .
i’m doped and thick from my last sleeping pill .
you are ill .
you are so exhausted .
i can’t communicate .
we’re here on a visit .
where do you stash your knife ?
what sort of scenery is it ?
you know who you hate .
pure ? what does it mean ?
i am not subtle .
right now you are dumb , and i love your stupidity .
i know why you won’t give it to me . you’re terrified .
is it impossible for you to let something go and have it whole ?
must you kill what you can ?
there is one thing i want today , and only you can give it to me .
it won’t hurt .
do away with it altogether .
are you our sort of person ?
i have always been scared of you .
i didn’t call you . i didn’t call you at all .
there is nothing between us .
seven hours knocked out of my right mind .
i am myself . that is not enough .
i dream of someone else entirely .
we should meet in another life .
it was an accident .
you know what lies are for .
dying is an art , like everything else .
how far is it now ?
do not accept it . it’s not genuine .
i am so stupidly happy .
eternity bores me , i never wanted it .
hello! i'm here to write for the first time in a month because i finally feel a little human again. please bear with me while i try to get my footing. also let me know if there are any old threads that should be dropped because it's been so long. just a quick message or reply to this post would be appreciated!
gonna go on an official semi-hiatus. i’m struggling with some health issues at the moment.
Spring night.
grasp ✧⋆ prompt : ekaterina ( @acataelepsie ) ft. lebedeva , accepting
lebedeva lingers at the entryway, struck by the orchestric throng of the tsaritsa's parlor ( a joy she had long been deprived of ). the war effort had demanded too much of her these day, but not enough to deny yet another invitation from one she missed so dearly. taking it all in as she searches for ekaterina, the vila meanders through the crowd like a newborn spring, tulled in a periwinkle dress, cinched at the waist and cascading into a frilly, starlight-sequined train at her feet.
instinctively, she turns at the call of her name and finds her lissome host beaming and rushing towards her. in her unadulterated glee, she leaps into her arms. ❛❛ oh my -- ! katya ! ❜❜ lebedeva laughs, clutching her tightly, both for purchase and for lost time. ❛❛ how i've missed you ! -- but do mind the feathers, darling ! ❜❜ a hand prudently hovers above her coiled pearl-plaited tresses to find her plumes were thankfully still in place. ❛❛ let's have us a drink, shall we ? ❜❜ she says, their arms now garlanded, and not so easily separated even after a warm embrace. ❛❛ we have much to catch up on. ❜❜
“ oh! forgive me, lebed. I was just so happy to see that you came! ” in all truth, katya had not expected to see her friend for quite some time. the war was growing to be more burdensome with each day and she could see that the appearance of her guests were dwindling. she didn’t mind, of course. the whole point of her parties were to serve as a necessary distraction — to be like a slap to death’s face with all the vivacity that thrummed within those halls.
the tsaritsa beamed at lebedeva’s suggestion for a conversation and eagerly led her by the hand to a quiet corner of the parlor where they could not be disturbed. before they even arrived, her devoted attendants had the table adorned with drinks and a pavlova with so much fruit piled on top that she briefly wondered if the whole thing would collapse under their weight. “ sit, sit! you know, just the other day, I had a conductor try to convince me to let him dance instead of conducting. when I asked who would lead the orchestra, he said that they would manage without him for a few minutes. it was all so silly that I gave in and danced with him! ”
though it appeared to be a superficial conversation, it was a necessary one. a grasp at comfort. something that brought back a sense of normalcy when all anybody could ever talk about was war and death and cold. she smiled and reached over the table to grasp the vila’s hands in hers. “ you look beautiful as always. ” ( how are you faring? ) how is buyan holding up? “ have the suitors been keeping you blissfully busy? ”
Big Sur, California // Norman & Blake
DIFFERENT KINDS OF KISSES * send 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt, nsfw implied
[ soothe ] sender kisses receiver to stop them from shaking
[ forehead ] sender tenderly kisses receiver's forehead
[ brief ] sender sneaks a kiss to receiver's cheek as they walk by
[ brow ] sender kisses the bridge of receiver's eyebrow
[ impossible ] sender kisses receiver as a final gesture, knowing they can't be together
[ hiding ] sender checks the area around them before kissing receiver, trying not to get caught
[ handful ] sender peppers the receiver's cheek with multiple, playful kisses
[ line ] sender draws a trail of kisses down the length of receiver's shoulderblade and up their neck
[ almost ] sender and receiver are centimeters apart, about to kiss, but something interrupts them
[ side ] sender places a kiss on the side of receiver's nose
[ tip ] sender kisses the tip of receiver's nose
[ underside ] sender leans in and places a suggestive kiss just under receiver's jawline
[ giggle ] sender starts tickling and kissing the receiver all over in order to make them laugh
[ knuckle ] sender lifts receiver's hand to their lips and places a polite kiss there
[ last ditch ] right before receiver leaves for battle, sender rushes into their arms and kisses them desperately
[ the middle ] in the midst of a battle, sender steals a second alone with receiver and kisses them to reassure them
[ dreamy ] sender and receiver indulge in a handful of slow, romantic kisses
[ darkness ] sender and receiver makeout in a completely dark room
[ ear ] sender nuzzles and kisses receiver's ear
[ recline ] sender climbs ontop of receiver and steals a kiss
[ lazy ] sender kisses receiver to wake them up from a comfortable sleep
[ dramatics ] as sender and receiver argue back and forth, sender launches forward and kisses receiver to stop the fight
[ distance ] across a large space, sender blows receiver a kiss
[ hold ] sender and receiver are hugging, and sender kisses receiver on the cheek in a tender display
[ regret ] sender and receiver start to kiss, but sender backs away in the middle of it, knowing it's a bad idea
[ reunion ] thinking they'd never see each other again, sender and receiver are reunited and run into each other's arms, sharing a kiss
[ inner ] in a heated moment, sender trails kisses along receiver's inner thigh
[ lovebite ] in the midst of kissing receiver's neck, sender changes tactics and gives them a tender little bite
[ greeting ] sender and receiver greet each other with kisses to both cheeks in quick succession
[ bunny ] sender gives receiver a bunny kiss by rubbing their noses together back and forth
[ supportive ] sender kisses the top of receiver's head
[ fingertips ] sender places light kisses to each of reciever's fingertips
[ tongue ] sender and receiver indulge in a heavy makeout that involves tongue
[ first time ] sender leans in and kisses receiver for the first time
[ final ] sender and receiver share a kiss for the very last time, and they know it's their last
[ storm ] caught in the midst of a torrential downpour, sender can't help but close the distance and kiss receiver in the rain
[ scar ] sender sees one of receiver's scars for the first time and gently kisses it
[ desperate ] the situation is dire, and sender can't stop themselves from rushing forward and crushing receiver into an aggressive, frantic kiss
[ tend ] while tending to receiver's wounds, sender gives receiver a reassuring kiss
[ stolen ] sender and receiver cross paths and can't resist ducking into a safe place to makeout before they carry on with their day
[ irresistable ] sender taunts receiver by easing closer, promising a kiss, and then backing away, making receiver chase their lips
[ lipstick ] sender is wearing lipstick, and uses that fact to mark receiver with a few lipstick stains
[ chest ] sender removes receiver's shirt and immediately rushes forward to kiss their chest
[ shivering ] sender places small kisses all over receiver's stomach
[ fake ] sender and receiver pretend to be a couple and are forced to kiss each other to blend in
[ maybe ] sender and receiver are best friends and experiment with a kiss to see where it goes
i did it... i made patroclus.
🥀
Mahmoud Darwish, from Unfortunately, It Was Paradise: Selected Poems; “The Flute Cried,”
LOUISE GLÜCK x RAFAEL M. MILANI
‘Parados’, Ararat (1992);
Untitled photographs, Fata Morgana series (2016)
[ final ] ♔. from the hoard : 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔰𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔰𝔞 𝔬𝔣 𝔰𝔞𝔩𝔱 ( @acataelepsie ) , accepting
he had promised to undo this, hadn't he ? but he never said what the price would be. never said that he'd always known he would pay it when the time came. oh, but he also stretched and wrung that time out for all it was worth, hadn't he? and wishes to have spared more for this; for them. ❛❛ i am sorry. ❞ it feels so small a thing on a tongue that had devoured and consumed so much. but still, his repent hangs in the air like a broken wingbeat; painfully earnest, striving for higher ground all the same. ❛❛ i am sorry for all of it. — — but i was so angry. i was so afraid. . . i still am. ❞
still afraid, at least. but of what ? koschei's magic shrouds his dead tsaritsa from part of that truth: that he wasn't really here, in her ghostly parlor. he was not in his brother's country. not yet. he was in buyan, at the first light of dawn. in an empty battlefield of teeming greens and violent reds. where, on the one side, all the fractured pieces of ekaterina's body were laid together over a bed of poppies and chamomile; and on the other, the tsar of life was on his knees, over a rotting ditch, a burlap sack traded for a crown. a black egg traded for an arm. blindly, he hears the distant sound of bone bayonets loading, and viy's nail, sharp and curved like a scythe, drumming the countdown over a diamond embossed shell. ( ten. —— click. nine. —— tick. eight. —— crack. )
a medalled chest inhales sharply, cutting off the underworld's waltz so he could look her in the eyes. hold on to her face and that final grain of time between his hands. ❛❛ promise me something, ❞ he begs, eyes shining like melting ice, voice softer than freshly tilled soil. ❛❛ promise you won't forget me when you wake. remember the last places i touched. ❞ knuckles graze her cold blue cheek, fingers rest on her pointed chin and he lingers here, for as long as he can, cosmically suspended in that place where a fall doesn't feel like a casting down, but a calm capitulation. and then he leans in to kiss her. for the first and final time, with a brush that was tentative for sanctuary at the start, but then pours out of him and into her, life-giving and aching, gold-hued and burning. ( remember this and i will never die. i will always be with you. )
❛❛ i love you, katenka, ❞ he confesses, breathless and shaking when he rests his brow against hers. such admissions were made for fairytale endings, but this was not that. it was the brutal end of a war. and it is still selfish and cruel to say these things now when there was nothing they could do. when it was perhaps better left unsaid. —— but he needed her to know. ❛❛ i always have. ❞
( three. —— ready. two. —— aim. one. —— ) now let the magic end, and the fusillade come to bring the deathless sorcerer back into the earth and render him a dappled a constellation of a hundred stars. let her kiss be the last thing he'd ever take. and let her wake to the last thing he'll ever give: a garden grown death, offered for her like a rose. it could be enough. it had to be.
BREATH RETURNED TO THE TSARITSA JUST AS THE LAST SHOT FIRED OFF. the sound of both, sharp and ragged against the eerie silence of a war come to an end . her body lurched violently as her consciousness was ripped from her endless wandering and thrust back into it. she heard a heavy thud off to her right. it was the only thing that made her cognizant of the fact that her physical body had been made whole again. and with that realization came dread. the feeling of her heart banging on the insides of her rib cage choked the air right out of her lungs. slowly, hesitantly… ekaterina turned her head because she needed to confirm what she already knew.
KOSCHEI WAS DEAD.
she extended an arm still stiff with rigor mortis out and twisted herself off of the flower bed of poppies and chamomiles that implored her to stay. but their scent was not enough to overcome the scent of gunpowder and rot. ( do not look, katenka ) was what they seemed to say. how could she not? how could she not say goodbye?
the tsaritsa threw herself down onto her knees and hunched over the motionless body of the tsar. the scream she let out was so primal and so full of rage that several of viy’s boyars shrunk back because they could not believe that such a sound could come out of a body so fragile. her body shook with the anguish of knowing that she had driven him to his defeat. that she would not have the opportunity to see his face when she told him that she loved him too or be able to feel his touch against her skin again. blood seeped through the spaces between her fingers that were pressed against his mangled chest, but there was no saving him.
after what felt like hours, the tears finally ran dry. ekaterina drew in a shaky breath, cupped his face between her bloodstained hands, and kissed him. “ I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU, NOW AND FOREVERMORE. ” and then she stood. the scar on her chest would be a reminder that a piece of her died with koschei that day. her pale dress now dyed as crimson as the bitter contempt she held for the tsar of death and all his cruelness. ( here is the image of innocence destroyed. )
[ knowing ] sender has been holding receiver's hand all this time without realizing it and hurries to let go. ⤷ from: liam quinn ✧˖°. sc. (𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨)
FASCINATING HOW QUICKLY A SITUATION COULD TURN ON ITS HEAD. in the midst of informing everyone for the umpteenth time that the hat was NOT haunted, liam had made an offhand comment and suddenly the damn thing was levitating and the windows were shattering. matteo had hastily grabbed liam’s hand and yanked him under the table to avoid the shrapnel of glass. “ okay, so maybe it’s a little bit haunted, but you shouldn’t have insulted it if you thought it was in the first place. ”
liam then proceeded to pull his hand free ( the hand that matteo hadn’t realized he had still been holding nonetheless ). well, whatever the case, the problem still stands. the cursed object was throwing a fit and the only solution that made sense was to either sneak up on it and destroy it or — “ YOU’VE GOT TO APOLOGIZE TO IT, LIAM. ”