[avilionea]

HELLO! This is an independent & selective multi-muse blog for various characters primarily MYTH  based. Below you’ll find some helpful links that’ll assist you in interacting with this blog. LOW ACTIVITY. Written by Darks, 30+.

RULES - Interest Tracker MUSES TAGS

[mournfulroses]

Anaïs Nin, from a letter to Henry Miller written c. January 1933, featured in A Literate Passion

[avilionea]

@fitzwalters / @adventurers ASKED: You gave up too easily. (MARIAN)

"You aren't the most kind if you lose." Arthur said, fiddling with the drawstring of his bow. He'd let her win ( and most other games they got into) mainly because he liked the way her smile tilted at her won success.

also... she had a strong right arm when she really wanted to. he would need to get better at hiding his intent.

[alrauna]

Lily Seika Jones (@rivuletpaper)

[a7estrellas]

PAUL MESCAL & JESSIE BUCKLEY HAMNET (2025) dir. Chloé Zhao

[avilionea]

"There’s beggary in the love that can be reckoned." / to Guinevak

"Love has little to do with anything in court." she responded, "politics rule the marriage bed." she answered plainly. "you should know that better than most."

[ircnwrought]

WHY ARE YOU FULL OF RAGE ? BECAUSE YOU ARE FULL OF GRIEF

ind. & private multimuse ft. muses across mythology, literature, video games, & more !! lovingly wrought by miranda, 27, ict. crossover, & duplicate friendly.

DO YOU DARE TO GRIEVE ?

[ template ]

[ofruinsandmyth]

Storytelling is how we survive, when there's no feed, the story feeds something, it feeds the spirit, the imagination. I can't imagine life without stories, stories from my parents, my culture. Stories from other people's parents, their culture. That's how we learn from each other, it's the best way. That's why literature is so important, it connects us heart to heart.

— Alice Walker

[avilionea]

@mayregina ASKED: "Guinevak, come here." Once close enough, Guinevere hooks her arm through her sister's. The warmer months bring merchants and traders to Camelot, and spread out before them are various silks from this year's festival. It's expected that Guinevere would choose among them to make a new gown from, but they all seem much the same to her. Perhaps she ought to choose the Egyptian, in honor of Lenomie's recent marriage, and be done with it! Instead, she asks Guinevak: "Which do you favor?" (GUINEVERE)

"Yes, Your Highness?" Guinevak's voice was as soft as her face was expressionless. She moved closer as instructed, her arm limp in her sister's grasp ( she might jerk it away otherwise).

The question isn't which Guinevak favors, simply because she wouldn't be wearing any of them. No, they were for her sister, bought with coin from the King's coffers. A great political ploy not only to demonstrate the might of Camelot in supporting foreign trade, but also the open mindedness of its capitol.

( Its own citizens could not afford such luxuries. Camelot's beacon did not extend far beyond its walls-- what with the Northern conflicts and ongoing conquests outside of the country)

It would be wise for the fabric to be practical, yet durable enough when Guinevere eventually took up an activity that would suit to destroy it. She was not known to sit still.

Guinevak scanned the fabrics, took in the colors and the makes, the thread count, and any strings attached. Something good for the summer months, but suitable enough to transition into the colder ones. That is what she would do.

It was not what Guinevere would do.

"This one" she said with the same unchanged air. It was perfect for her sister, and met every criteria she would have.

[theunfortunate-author]

my daily affirmation as an author

[psychecreations]

Domina (2021-2023) 2.04: Exile

[nimueries]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐲: 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐞 . ■  an independent, semi-selective rp account for nimue / the lady of the lake from arthurian legend, various literature, but mostly headcanons straight from the mind of michelle ( 30+ ). pls do not interact if under 21 ■ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 ■ 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 ■ 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞

[brokenmagxc]

@avilionea for vasilisa

salt—the air is thick with salt. that is what he notices first as he crosses the threshold of her domain ; a small, cage-like stone room. the hearth barely whispers when the door is shoved open, wind rushing toward the new narrow crevice. the clank of his armor as he moved is the only sound allowed. not even the hinges groan in protest. instead, it is quiet. only labored breaths, metal squeaks, and the thin, impossible sound of ocean waves greets him.

he stands in the doorway for a long moment recalibrating.

his eyes adjust to the dimness over time. his hands, muddy and blood-soaked from use, feel around the air as if it were tangible ; a physical stream around him. he can almost taste it—a spell of sorts, a magic so potent in the air that it lays on his tongue, bittersweet. his eyes become embers in the dark, flaming orange coals that fill with golden dust, reacting to presence alone before a silhouette appears, quick and subtle, at the corner of his eye.

he finds her.

or the shape of her, sitting expectantly on the bedside. he can't see her face from here—not in the darkness, not with the fires across from them banked on ashen wood. but he can feel her, yes, a presence too big for this room. a target painted wide and bright on her breath.

he stares at her shadow with wide eyes. unexpectantly, he doesn't move from the doorway. something tells him he shouldn't. his heart, maybe, or that sunlit fire behind his eyes acknowledging that she is, indeed, similar to it, and different all the same.

“ are you— ” he starts, voice roughened travel and sleepless nights, then pauses. reconsiders. tries again.

“ are you the lady they all seek ?? ”

[avilionea]

She is always fascinated by the inventions of mankind. Belief was a powerful thing. The rules of the Known permitted man to interact with that which was greater than them-- and catch them all the same.

The construction of the room she was held in was one that couldn't burn easily ( nothing beyond the hearth fire) as was her domain to spread so. The daughters of the Sea Tsar were known for their elements and the Tsarevna of Fire was not to be trifled with.

A normal woman would have suffocated in such a place. The stones were interlined with salt glass, a very binding substance, but designed to hold her.

"Depends on the they in question." Came her reply, her voice flickering like a low candle, yet emanating the same comforting warmth. The skull atop the staff in her hand stared with socketless eyes in his direction, the flame inside it illuminating a singular path, as if it only had the desire for its bearer to go the way it pointed.

"What is it that you seek? To break such a seal?"

[alieneen1]

Paul Mescal as William Shakespeare in HAMNET

[inkpressedpetals]

[avilionea]

Vasilisa's hair turning from golden to brown as she enters into the world of man and Yelena's from brown to golden as shes revived from death lives rent free in my mind. Ivan being forever tied to girls living in the inbetween is just *chef's kiss*. He's got a type!

[gethimback]

HAMNET (2025) dir. Chloe Zhao