THE⠀𝕬𝚁𝚃𝙸𝚂𝚃'𝚂⠀𝕯𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑀 .

i am all that remains,   the melancholy of life's autumn.

[stelegy]

a writing blog for multiple muses from a variety of canon and original sources, by byleth (they / them, 21+) . mutuals only, iconless, private and heavily plot-based.

⠀ ᴵ carrd. ᴵᴵ prompts. ᴵᴵᴵ blogroll.

my roster is characterised by occasional bouts of impermanence. this means i will seldom shift out muses for others to accommodate either my interests or the desires of my writing partners.

canon muses.

alexandra trese, trese.

edmond dantès, the count of monte cristo.

emily kaldwin, dishonoured.

jericho swain, league of legends.

the medicine seller, mononoke.

ranni the witch, elden ring.

original characters.

fiadhaích, original folklore and fantasy canon.

mòrag, a d&d aasimar soulknife rogue.

private roster.

aragorn, the lord of the rings.

arthur morgan, red dead redemption.

daniil dankovsky, pathologic.

khada jhin, league of legends.

morgana le fey, arthuriana.

percival de rolo, critical role campaign one.

rupert campbell-black, rivals.

strahd von zarovich, curse of strahd for 2014 d&d 5e.

the stranger, star wars : the acolyte.

yasuo, league of legends.

voice testing.

fëanor, the tolkien legendarium.

[stelegy]

🙪 @whatsout ( from éowyn to aragorn ) : sacred high romance, receiver helps sender put on a piece of clothing or jewellery.

sunrise once meant comfort to the people of gondor, but instead of being heralded by fresh faces and new beginnings, it arrives in sombre ceremony, crawling across the horizon to perform its duty. the war - scarred of minas tirith saw only the dull slumber of unconsciousness through the days that followed, while their healers saw none at all. what he could lend of his hands made them work tirelessly, until they had turned raw and calloused. it had been worth it, however, to save what he could, and to put at peace those he could not.

he will depart with them again to check the pelennor fields for more of their dead, to put at peace the families of the city, if peace could be offered at all. already from the windows of the houses of healing he could see small clusters of soldiers making their way across the fallen. they are collecting what they can, like funerary carrion birds.

but he feels her behind him, a warm spot in the dawn dark. she had been the best to recover of the wounded he oversaw. perhaps it is the spirit of her uncle that lives on in her now that had given her such strength, or the vengeance of her cousin who could not live to see his promises through. he turns ; slivers of the daybreak latch desperately onto strands of her gold hair, becoming something of a lamp he could see her face with. she cradles in her wounded arms the woolen cloak that had also acted as her blanket in her sickbed. he could not smother the determination within her then, he is foolish to think he can do so now. it is difficult for him to take a full breath, he is so terrified, terrified. he has already lost so much, and so has she. there is no poetry to make more palatable a feeling like that.

he takes the cloak gently from her ; his hands scrape with difficulty over its texture, as if they are still accustoming themselves to soft fabrics after too long a time apart from them. his knuckles tenderly brush the bruises that purple her skin and it unfurls with a muted susurrus. the length of his arms reach behind her head and he fastens the cloak over her shoulders, pulling it closed at her breastbone. as if he had been tending to her wounds, his eyes follow every gesture that he makes and … why do his fingers linger where the latch is ? he is mesmerised by the tenacity of the skin at her neck, still unwounded, unblemished. a bare column of flesh. for a moment, his fortitude falters and he is shockingly, sickeningly dizzy with an emotion like fear, not wholly fear.

❛❛ i am sorry that i must leave you again, daughter of rohan. ❜❜ his words are chosen carefully ; he can only offer to her the best. he looks into her eyes and picks out the grey against green, the colour of her strength. even now. ❛❛ you shall hate me for sparing you another valiant death among the host of the west, but i am willing to endure such hatred. you cannot die. your bravery is what saved your people. it is what must sustain them here while they mend their wounds. stay here, and be brave for them. ❜❜ his gaze leans closer still, until he can feel the scent of morning effuse gently off her face. ❛❛ promise me, my lady. ❜❜

[stelegy]

i'm so not gonna lie to y'all. i kind of am starting to hate arcane?

[stelegy]

🙪 @tyrran : continued.

noxus does not do anything by halves ; that is where it differs from demacia, a country basking in its own complacency and lies of justice and dignity. but the effort is undoubtedly valiant. perhaps they will hear tale of this protector in the delverhold —— or even as far as uwendale —— and cry out against their shelter. the northern territories possess only fledgeling loyalty, but it is to be expected. what is subjugation without its thorns ?

too belatedly he realises he has brought an anomaly to the immortal bastion ; it has fought against and caged worse. because noxus is a tenacious and united front ; that is where it differs from ionia, a land uneasy with its magics, too divided to stand even on two feet. he inclines his head, less to bow and more to shift his expression into something tolerable enough to pass as a dismissive gesture. still his voice rings with the cadence of a general, even though he holds no loyalty to him. ❛❛ you are not a noxian soldier, and i command of you nothing. after all, you will continue to do exactly as you please, in service to the people of naljaäg, with or without my orders. ❜❜ he steps down, at first uneasy in his footing, then he steps again until he is able to establish an easy cadence down the dais. the pain in his right leg creeps up then dampers down with the sway, like the ebb and flow of a constant tide. ❛❛ i did not summon you to make a mockery of the deaths of my men, nor to insist like a petulant child that you cease your efforts. i am not so foolish as that. ❜❜

something inside him — is eager and hungry, ready to lap up the first spill of blood. but he keeps his left hand tucked behind his back, assisted by the shadow of his long overcoat.

then raven wings flutter like whispers on the wind. an ideal made manifest, organic matter disintegrates into light. then something darker, colder, on the far side of the world … she reaches for ice that will not bruise her skin. waiting, for the inevitable. ❛❛ do you know what you are, vannaspar ? ❜❜ there is too much to know, too much, and he stops at the first sensation of the overwhelming weight. their sides do not brush. ❛❛ you will not find your answers in merely protecting innocent lives. ❜❜

[stelegy]

around her the wind whips cold and unsteady, indifferent to her minuscule lapses of judgement on her balance and posture. she kneels beneath the cover of a water cooler atop an abandoned roof deck. from her vantage point, she peers through her binoculars and tries to sift through the garish lights and visual sound to find the hatch entrance she was tipped off months ago. it is still there, unlatched and open. the district attorney’s men were so quick to betray him. was she too surrounded by liars like that, smiling and spouting platitudes one moment, accepting bribes for her downfall the next ? if she had been … if her mother was still —

a silent, soft thud. her coat billows around her restlessly like a curtain. she had hoped it would have been a dark colour sufficient enough to help her blend into the shadows, even if @veilmotel ( as felicia ) renders it pointless, quickly plucking her singular figure from the skyline and right into her playful, bemused attention. no rest for the wicked, right ?

❛❛ no rest for you then, maybe. ❜❜ her mother had not been wicked, but she did not have to resort to wicked measures. would she have been ashamed to raise such a striking bird of prey when she wanted a dove ? she lowers her binoculars and passes them onto the burglar, who is making herself comfortably languid at their vantage point. perhaps it’s intuition, or just the strength of superstition and paranoia, but already she feels uneasy next to her, as if misfortune would collapse its full weight on the whole operation if she wasn’t ready for it. hopefully something must counterbalance it then, and nothing will happen to the briefcase of documents they needed to steal. ❛❛ we’ll do this quietly. no one should know we’ve been in and out. ❜❜ that’s why i picked you, she thinks. her footsteps are still a little clumsy on balcony railings and over stairs, under cover. but she’s been through worse humiliations, and she can certainly swallow a bit of pride when it comes to comparing herself to a professional. as much as the thief’s amusement burns her nape. ❛❛ you’ll need to show me how we get in. no tricks this time. ❜❜

[stelegy]

i'll try to link this across all my blogs, but here's my blogroll. i'm actually going to try my damnest to be on both lamb and aleksandr and fix stuff up, so give both a follow if you're interested!

[stelegy]

not to sound mushy or what, but i'm feeling very good on this blog and all the blogs i have now, which is something i haven't felt in such a long time. i remember a couple of months ago how creatively drained i felt, even considered leaving the rpc at some point (it got that bad, yes), i was unwilling and unable to write because of a combined strain of isolationist anxieties and deep-rooted insecurity over my own writing. i hoped archiving and moving clean would help with that ditch, and maybe it has. because i can say with some confidence that those hard months are now pretty much behind me. i feel like i'm writing what i want, with whom i want, and for people i care about, and who care about me. so whether we've known each other for years (read : you have endured some BULLSHIT from me for far too long, damn), or you've just began witnessing my shitty pentiment shitposting, i sincerely thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for giving me a space on the internet to let me be … well, me! 🥰

[joyuex]

his world is little more than four walls and a sliver of sun, the faintest hint of morning light that creeps in over the grime - soaked floor. he pays it no mind, fixated instead on the mindless thumping of fist against stone, the rhythmic beat of his heart made flesh ... it has been three days, or perhaps a thousand, he does not know for sure. he lives in the narrow scope of a moment, in every breath, in every beat of his fist, focused wholly on the hope that he might find himself free once more.

but now, something new: the screech of hinges, the scape of wood — he blinks, he stills, and, after a moment, he speaks, his voice as flat as still water, "you shall set me free or i shall raise and rip you limb from limb." / @stelegy

[stelegy]

a spatter of dried blood marks his hands, his fists. dishevelled, unkempt, look now upon a true knight of beloved king arthur ! he is very beautiful, to be sure ; it is no wonder her avalon queens desired him, maybe in ways she would find too hedonistic. camelot is home to only bright things ; it knows just sunlit days and warm, orange - blossom nights, and so sadistic cruelty ( not envy, never envy ) crawls up her neck like poison up blue ventricle veins. he must be dirtied even further, bloodied even more. the door clangs shut behind her. ❛❛ how pitiful to think such a threat could move me to fear. ❜❜ she gathers her skirts to meet him eye to eye, kneeling slowly and, not ungraciously, she takes his face with a pale hand, forcing it to gaze at her. ❛❛ if i kill you, will the king rush toward me in a rage, forgoing any strategy in battle, and barrel headfirst into danger ? ❜❜ then with a rush of unprecedented excitement, already imagining such delicious despair, such that only existed in her deepest fantasies — ❛❛ will the queen wither and die, so torn apart by her grief she could no longer bear a life without you ? ❜❜

[stelegy]

hello gay people in my phone, i'm trying to get back into a more consistent writing groove and the best way for me to do that is to read, so please recommend me your 🫵 favourite lgbt+ books and novels!

[stelegy]

the soirée is indisputably gauche. windows of crystalline glass keep the night at bay, lit from above by gold - plated chandeliers, which hang from brass ceilings, themselves adorned with garish carvings of muses, dryads, satyrs and centaurs, bacchanalia and dionysus ruling over them, instructing them as a conductor guides an orchestra, but the decadent chaos of his own carnal celebrations stand a loose contrast to the rigidity of parisian social customs below. how the woodland nymphs would have baulked at the stiff skirts and powdered faces of the women, how the satyrs and centaurs would mock the men and their self - important airs ! subtle jazz floats over their heads like inoffensive scents, garnishing the air with more noise to fill in an already tumultuous but altogether proper gathering.

he stands next to @vivrez where, introspective as they are, they gravitate to the walls in the hopes they blend in. he reminds her of his foregone knowledge and she scoffs, practiced in hiding her distaste for his coarseness. why ? because it’s personal and it’s painful. and it’s none of your business.

ah, and despite it, a smile touches his lips and he inclines his head to acknowledge his faux pas. ❛❛ of course. forgive my indiscretion, miss. ❜❜ his attention turns back to the throng, where he follows the thin threads of society through and through, connecting mothers to sons, employers to contractors, friends to enemies, until a web emerges, twisting itself further as they dance, and dance. ❛❛ there are, of course, solutions to your predicament. there are ways to silence those who should not speak. ❜❜ from the glint in her eyes, she can see it too, furtively glancing through the thinnest of gaps for her prize. creatures raised on vengeance are so little different. ❛❛ however, it is none of my business. ❜❜ and he moves to bow, excusing himself. ❛❛ miss st. just. ❜❜

[stelegy]

🙪 @daylighter ( to ranni ) : casual yet intimate interactions, sender grabs the chair receiver is sitting in and pulls it closer.

it is not omnipotence. she had begun to miss the faculties of a body, namely the solidity it had once afforded her, its ability to effortlessly carve a tangible place in the world, a place that was ranni. but she persists always, always —— stubborn in ways her father would not be, clever in a way her mother never was. in her state she forgoes the automatic processes of the flesh : a heart pumping, blood and sinew calculating every sensation from her fingertips to her spine, the very act of breathing. such efficiency, which once operated these mechanisms in her body, finds itself idle. thus, the puppet itself is now a mind stored : the spirit and her words of pure calculus and introspection.

so she does not see him when he enters the highest room of the rise, nor does she hear the footsteps on the cobblestone. no, she senses him, the way one foretells rain through subtle shifts in the air. it is a kind of soothsaying, like she has brought him here through merely wishing it. he is difficult to look at ; staring directly at his eyes is like counting birds as they fly over the sun. ( the sun ! was there ever such a brilliant, deadly thing ? ) but she crouches behind the shaded brim of her hat, though not out of fear. a tremor echoes ; she knows he has placed his hands on the legs of her chair and is pulling it towards him. the books under her legs rattle like an animal threatened, her doll shakes with the shifting. she is only as tangible as he can perceive. the hem of her dress begins to brush his breastplate hesitantly, as if in fear of a texture that is not itself. she will not fall upon him.

❛❛ you’ll harm me not. ❜❜ if she says it, then it must be true. if she tilts her head up, will he be looking back at her, or will his gaze be averted entirely ? which is worse ? one of her four hands slowly reaches up and places a single porcelain finger over his forehead. ❛❛ or am i to see at last if thy curiosity shall be punished … my difficult, garish star ? ❜❜ power thrums mutely between them, a wave lurking invisibly under the water’s surface. a miniature perihelion.

[stelegy]

tirion did not know a war room. indeed, the hall itself was once an antechamber in the palace of finwë : a roof of boughs held aloft by thin pearlescent columns, where the king would have entertained his subjects or seek the counsel of his ministers. from this view, túna is at its most majestic, sprawling like a vast ocean endless across the horizon. but now a table, made from the felled trunk of some impossibly large tree, dominates what was before empty space. and where its surface was once dominated itself by an assortment of maps, reconnaissance reports, general’s letters, logistic coordinations, all in service to the arithmetic of war, it now sits empty. tirion does not know a war room, but it knows what a war room is meant to be ; it attempts to bend itself at unnatural angles until its new shape satisfies its craftsman, for that is the art of the forge. finwë is dead now, so what use is sentimentality ? he is all alone in the room, in some unbecoming, nostalgic effort to recall his life before the first exile. although his hands are still, his mind is restless. he will commit that arithmetic of war to memory, down to its last letter.

until @yharnum ( as galadriel ) emerges. she easily carries the grace and light of her mother but the even coolness of her father. but the sneer is hers alone, as she tests her own strength against what she would claim is his heirship fashioned into fetters. how long should i wait for you to drown your pride ?

❛❛ pride … ? ❜❜ he takes the steel of her anger, smelts it in the slow fire of his tongue, then reforges them into curled, sharp things. the run - on of his rage, new daggers all. ❛❛ until you are called by duty to destroy the greatest joy in all your life and all your lives thereafter … until your father, who is beloved to you and who beloves you also, is cruelly slain under the greed of a foe the valar turn so blind an eye toward … until you have lost everything and are called to debase yourself asunder and refuse … until you have felt this pain, artanis, speak not to me of pride. ❜❜

he moves to leave and passes her by, with only the air of their shoulders brushing. he would not approach her any further. ❛❛ whether you follow me to vanquish this great foe or refuse my call, that is a choice you alone must make. but from this day forth, tirion shall be home to only cowards. may you and your kin never find yourselves among them. ❜❜ with sharp eyes, he sees fractured light remembered in her hair. filaments and ribbons of silver and gold, braided at spectacular vertices and angles, shimmer around her head like a crown. even now, he can look upon her and remember such times when the sky was bright. he smiles, not without warmth, but not kindly. ❛❛ and if the valar are so desperate for the light of their trees to be returned to them, they need not demand of me the silmarils, but ask only for a strand of your hair. i pray you deny them not. ❜❜

[notmorbid]

a beast slinks towards beijing.

dialogue prompts from a beast slinks towards beijing: a novel by alice evelyn yang.

what month is it?

we were damned if we did, damned if we didn't.

what do you remember?

you look tired. are you in pain?

it's a 'three advil' kind of day.

you look familiar. do i know you?

something is definitely following you. whether you can see it or not is a different matter.

you look tired. not sleeping well? nightmares?

you're asking the wrong questions.

i'm not ready for that. i don't know if i'll ever be ready.

you cannot die. there are still things we need to say.

anything can be salvaged. nothing should be wasted.

some memories are untranslatable.

i don't know how to say it in words.

i wasn't going to go through with it.

breathe. it'll pass.

you could almost pass as human.

it was real. it was the realest moment of my life.

you haven't even said sorry.

i didn't ask to be the favorite. i'd give it to you, if i could.

you like winning more than anything.

what really happened? you can tell me.

does it hurt badly?

your unhappiness weighs on my soul.

it would have been better if i'd died. if i didn't exist.

you wear resentment like a second skin.

i don't know how much you remember.

no rest for the wicked, right?

do you want to sleep here?

why do you want to leave?

children, like animals, often have a preternatural sense for catastrophe.

i thought gods were supposed to be good.

we're like small toys to the gods.

you know how to spin a yarn.

i've never known someone with a dead ____ before.

you're everywhere, aren't you?

everyone's been listening to me talk about you for years.

i know when you're lying.

i don't like the way _____ talks about you.

i want to feel solid again.

you didn't try to find me.

you have a deceptively innocent face.

morality is a privilege we can't afford right now.

you hurt everything around you.

i don't want to be in the house any more than i have to be.

you haven't changed much. always taking care of everyone else.

you're not alright. you have a tell.

aren't you tired of it all?

all you're good for is running.

i've been looking for you for a long time.

i've never met someone like me before.

i'm what you made me.

the more you try to forget me, the more you become down to me.

do you think i was born cruel? i was made this way.

i wasn't built to be a caretaker.

am i awake? is it you?

why do you have to be a martyr?

i always hoped i'd heard from you.

why can't you just be honest?

i don't know how to live with this.

we've both done hard things to survive. that's human.

i can help you through it, if you let me.

i know more ghosts than living people.

i can't recognize you anymore.

you ruined me. i hate you.

i was afraid of how much i loved you.

reincarnate. become something else, something braver.

i wish you had stayed. even when it was hard.

[leneemusing]

A LIST OF CASUAL YET INTIMATE INTERACTIONS

sender to receiver:

[ HOOK ] sender hooking a finger beneath receiver's jaw

[ PINCH ] sender holding receiver's chin between their thumb and forefinger

[ LOOK ] sender holding receiver's jaw and turning their head to look at them

[ PICK ] sender telling receiver to "hold still" while they remove something from their hair

[ GRAZE ] sender brushes their fingertip back and forth along receiver's jaw while they listen to receiver talk

[ DIRECT ] sender seeing that receiver is going the wrong way, takes hold of their shoulders from behind and turns them the right direction

[ BACK ] sender grabs receiver's wrist and tugs them closer when receiver tries to walk away.

[ TOY ] sender fidgets with something receiver is wearing while receiver talks to them

[ STROKE ] sender absentmindedly plays with receiver's hair while they're focused on another task

[ DEPART ] sender is saying goodbye and kisses receiver's forehead

[ DRESS ] sender without prompting helps receiver put on a jacket

[ UNDRESS ] sender helps receiver remove an article of clothing or jewelry

[ REFILL ] sender refills receiver's drink before they can ask or do it themselves

[ FIX ] sender cleans something off of receiver's face

[ RUB ] sender places their hand around the back of receiver's neck, rubbing their thumb just under their ear

[ PULL ] sender sits next to receiver and places their arm around their shoulders, gently pulling them into their side

[ BECKON ] sender sees receiver and lifts their arm up so they can come hug/cuddle them

[ GLIDE ] sender is gently rubbing/scratching receivers back and rubs their knuckle down their spine to the small of their back

[ CHEER ] seeing that receiver is scowling, sender rubs their thumb over the furrow between receiver's brows

[ TUCK ] sender finds receiver asleep somewhere and puts a blanket or their own coat over them

[ TRACE ] sender brushes their fingers along receiver's forehead, temple and cheekbone

[ BRUSH ] sender brushes their hand up and down receiver's arm as they walk past them

[ KEEP ] sender holds receiver's arm just above the elbow while they're talking or to get their attention

[ LEAN ] sender looks over receiver's shoulder who is sitting, placing a hand on their desk while receiver shows them something

[ NUDGE ] sender grabs the chair receiver is sitting in and pulls it closer

[ LISTEN ] sender is listening to receiver talk and picks up an object that belongs to receiver to fidget with

[ SEARCH ] sender searches out receiver's gaze in a crowded room either for approval or to check if they're okay

[ SMOOTH ] sender smooths their thumb over receiver's eyebrow

[ SLIP ] sender places their hand in receiver's back pocket while they walk together

receiver to sender:

[ HOOKING ] receiver hooking a finger beneath sender's jaw

[ PINCHING ] receiver holding sender's chin between their thumb and forefinger

[ LOOKING ] receiver holding sender's jaw and turning their head to look at them

[ PICKING ] receiver telling sender to "hold still" while they remove something from their hair

[ GRAZING ] receiver brushes their fingertip back and forth along sender's jaw while they listen to sender talk

[ DIRECTING ] receiver seeing that sender is going the wrong way, takes hold of their shoulders from behind and turns them the right direction

[ BACKING ] receiver grabs sender's wrist and tugs them closer when sender tries to walk away.

[ TOYING ] receiver fidgets with something sender is wearing while sender talks to them

[ STROKING ] receiver absentmindedly plays with sender's hair while they're focused on another task

[ DEPARTING ] receiver is saying goodbye and kisses sender's forehead

[ DRESSING ] receiver without prompting helps sender put on a jacket

[ UNDRESSING ] receiver helps sender remove an article of clothing or jewelry

[ REFILLING ] receiver refills sender's drink before they can ask or do it themselves

[ FIXING ] receiver cleans something off of senders face

[ RUBBING ] receiver places their hand around the back of receiver's neck, rubbing their thumb just under their ear

[ PULLING ] receiver sits next to sender and places their arm around their shoulders, gently pulling them into their side

[ BECKONING ] receiver sees sender and lifts their arm up so they can come hug/cuddle them

[ GLIDING ] receiver is gently rubbing/scratching sender's back and rubs their knuckle down their spine to the small of their back

[ CHEERING ] seeing that sender is scowling, receiver rubs their thumb over the furrow between sender's brows

[ TUCKING ] receiver finds sender asleep somewhere and puts a blanket or their own coat over them

[ TRACING ] receiver brushes their fingers along sender's forehead, temple and cheekbone

[ BRUSHING ] receiver brushes their hand up and down sender's arm as they walk past them

[ KEEPING ] receiver holds sender's arm just above the elbow while they're talking or to get their attention

[ LEANING ] receiver looks over sender's shoulder who is sitting, placing a hand on their desk while sender shows them something

[ NUDGING ] receiver grabs the chair sender is sitting in and pulls it closer

[ LISTENING ] receiver is listening to sender talk and picks up an object that belongs to sender to fidget with

[ SEARCHING ] receiver seeks out sender's gaze in a crowded room either for approval or to check that they're okay

[ SMOOTHING ] receiver smooths their thumb over sender's eyebrow

[ SLIPPING ] receiver places their hand in sender's back pocket while they're walking

[estacahdo]

jackie isn’t new to the concept of having a target on his back, but coming from supernatural forces rather then the predictability of hired hits to make one’s bones to earn large means there’s always an element he has to be quick about on his feet, barely surviving some of the close calls. alexandra trese was born and trained into this life, and it’s clear in her vast experience and knowledge that even the smallest intricacies are known and carefully considered. he can’t deny it's even saved his life—— though he knows that decision wasn’t made out of the goodness of her heart. it was all pre-calculated —— he's the lesser of the two evils —— because she’s been an absolute pain in his ass and impossible to get rid of ever since. and it's even worse when he owes her one, like right now.

❝ you should try picking up a phone occasionally. ❞ @stelegy deadpans.

❝ ever thought that maybe i actively ignore your calls? ❞ jackie shoots back, effortlessly appearing from the shadows of their rendezvous point. she’s lucky he was there at the time, fully ignoring the third call only to be picked up by screecher—— and then immediately and personally taken away from screecher because the last time he had phone privileges, he ended up making a scam caller’s ears bleed out. so much for a quiet night in.

jackie easily matches her stride beside her, hands in his trouser pockets. ❝ y’gonna continue keeping me in suspense or is this where you finally tell me why i’m here. ❞

[stelegy]

family is not an incomprehensible subject, but it strings along assumptions and the unfair ( though not incorrect ) implication of alliance. this is not what this is, or rather, what it would have been in her clichés and expectations. a name, influencing the tangible world with a pale white hand and dredging the shadows of the underground with the other. she would have called it natural before, now she thinks it hypocritical. it is hypocrisy, however, that moves the foundations of cities to act. the right thing is impossible to do.

even if the right thing to do was to answer her calls. she was already testing her patience the third time and was only really spared because the kambal thought ( or knew ) it unwise to pester his darklings after a third ring. standing in the alleyway with her hands in her pockets, the shadows cling to him more than her. it’s only fair ; though she’s known them since she started, they know him better. they serve him more. she is careful where she treads but betrays uncertainty with confidence.

❛❛ i assume you’re familiar with the cassamento family, from your former profession. apparently one of their sons kidnapped a high - profile client. ❜❜ she stops walking to glare at him, hoping with a small measure of confidence that some of his shadows bolster her this time. ❛❛ and, on top of all that, last i heard the son is half - demon. which was something i hope you planned on telling me sooner rather than later. ❜❜

[stelegy]

🙪 🦌 get to know byleth!

nickname(s) : nobody irl calls me byleth but everyone online calls me that so we might as well … though i'm known also as bark (long story) and ironically enough, a nickname of my real name is also a kind of tree (insert plant joke here)

zodiac : libra sun, gemini moon, cancer rising and all of it fucking shows. i'm also a dragon baby :)

last movie i saw : finally finished lawrence of arabia after having to sit down to watch it multiple times since it's like three hours long (!!!!) but it's genuinely one of the most gorgeous movies i've ever seen

last thing i googled : tuko gecko because we have like two living in our house and we hear their mating calls from over our loft every night like clockwork, but i've never seen what they look like before. they're supposed to be symbols of luck in our culture!

favorite musician : ghost (the band)

song stuck in my head : tilt by irene & seulgi and it's actually a jailable offence how much of an idiot i look like dancing to this song in my head

other blogs : find me primarily on @farcountrys and @mozorov right now, though i barely even have time to get on there because i'm waiting for my writing bug to return from its sojourn into hell

do i get asks : uh. yes

following : at least two

amount of sleep : long cackling laughter

lucky number : 9

what i’m wearing : my pyjamas :)

dream job : i want to run a bookstore!

dream trip : about to take it, i'm going to paris next month for the first time and finally (fucking finally!) seeing the palais garnier in person. my house #myhouse. but i'd love to see rome sometime in my life

favourite food : banana turon which i wouldn't say as my immediate favourite ever but i've been craving it for so long i Must Have It

play any instruments : i've been a classically-trained pianist since i was five (just asian things) but since moving for university and working i've barely had time to go back to my lessons and practice, i well and truly should! i also play guitar very very casually, nothing beyond knowing chords

languages : english and my first language

favourite songs : ambulance by keaton henson, unconditional by richard walters, cirice by ghost

random fact : not that i put much stake into western astrology in general but something that i've always found very funny, roughly like 85% of my birth chart — with the remaining 15% being my sun sign — is identical to that of john keats, yes the romantic poet john keats

describe yourself as aesthetic things : just the absolute shittiest vampire memes you could find, stacks of tote bags and books, bedsheet ghosts, saint jeanne d'arc

tagged by : the infinitely cooler blogs of @laperlina and @exitvelo tagged by : you … :)

[notmorbid]

greenteeth.

dialogue prompts from greenteeth by molly o'neill.

i've never been quite sure what it is that i am.

i am not a _____.

what do humans like to talk about?

how could they do this to me?

my whole life has fallen apart in such little time.

you have a _____?

they must all think i'm dead.

my poor ____. you must be so afraid.

how could i not have seen this coming?

do you think i'm in a position to be judging who's evil and who's not?

they care less about facts than about fear.

i've ever liked to be busy.

i thought the devil had come to drag me down to hell.

it doesn't seem that long ago to me.

you would come back here?

it wasn't bad. just different.

it drove me mad at the time, but i miss it now.

i don't blame you for wanting to leave.

i have a plan, but i'm going to need some help.

i was naïve and trusting, but i'm wiser now.

i would appreciate the company.

you are clearly far trickier than i gave you credit for.

you look as tired as i feel.

i'm out of practice at being courageous.

this is my home. i will not abandon it.

i can't leave. i tried once. i won't do it again.

i will help you, if you will let me.

it's not too early if i didn't go to sleep.

no offense, but this isn't exactly the center of civilization.

i don't have any dignity. i'd ask the devil himself for help.

i know it's hard to leave.

appealing to men is really not my area of expertise.

it is good to know i can still be surprised.

please. i want to help.

don't waste your pity on me.

fair weather, and good fortune keep you safe.

my life could use a little danger to keep it fresh.

i wish i didn't have to keep asking for your help.

i thought for sure you'd be killed.

i won't be underestimating you again.

whatever it is, i'm starting to believe we can face it. that we can find a way to win.

i don't think i'm particularly well-suited to the role of knight.

you rescued me. that's who you are.

don't sigh at me like that.

i know you're angry, but don't take it out on _____.

i've been doing fine on my own for ____ years.

i only wish i had more to share.

how long should i wait for you to drown your pride?

i don't do 'nice'.

this is the most interesting thing that's happened to me in years.

i am sure we both have stories to tell.

it was a dream. you're safe. this is real.

let's both forget the past, and try to do better in the future.

do you want company?

i only came up here to check that you were alright.

i thought we trusted each other.

i can't imagine what it must be like to lose a child.

i'm so tired. i don't know what the right thing is anymore.

it's bad luck to look back.

my world will be a darker place without you in it.

you must find a new light. it would sadden me to think of you in the darkness.

i hope you find your peace.

do you really think we have a chance?

there's not much for me to lose, these days.

you value your life so little.

you must promise me to fight. not to throw your life away.

lying is a mortal defect.

i'm not good, but i'm not all the way bad.

a half-rotten apple is a rotten apple.

of course i'm here.

you're not going. i will not lose you.

have you run off again?

why don't you tell me something you've learnt recently?

you're not one to miss a free meal.