#istoriaen

[alreadybrcken]

@istoriaen​​​​ said: “ better the devil you know than the devil you don’t. -from robb (modern verse??) “

{♛ x Random stuff in my inbox ||  always accepting x}

Tommy let out an exasperated sigh, and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to figure out how exactly he’d ended up in this fucking predicament. “I’ve told you, I’m not the bloody devil, am I? Nor did I kill your fucking father! Why the hell would I kill Ned, eh? You know how much he meant to me.” 

And that was an understatement. Thomas Shelby wasn’t exactly known for growing fond of people, especially not people outside of his family, but Ned Stark had been an exception. Despite being everything he usually despised — Ned came from a long line of noble blood, was old money rich, and enjoyed high status without really having to work for it — Tommy had considered him not only as one of his closest friends, but also as a mentor. Ned had never treated him differently for his background, and had taken him under his wing the first day he arrived at the house of commons without ever asking for anything in return. There’d been nothing but respect. 

And yet he now had his son standing in his office, accusing him of murdering his father. “I wasn’t even in fucking London when it happened.”

[huntershowl-moving]

@istoriaen – by candlelight.

A HAND CLAPS ROBB ON THE SHOULDER FROM BEHIND just as the party begins to pick up. even before he shows his face, he is unmistakable by his scent: somehow, adeodatus has mastered smelling like the air before a storm. so far, no one’s been able to get the secret from him. the man’s towering form circles around robb after he makes his presence known, and he fixes the other with a half-boyish, half-paternal grin behind his trimmed beard. ❝ robb, robb, robb. my man. how goes it? you, ah... drift from the old man, or has he not yet made his arrival known? ❞ as ever, his voice is slow and honey-smooth. the hand not on robb’s shoulder hangs free. normally, one of adeo’s arms always has a place on lethe’s back, but clearly he doesn’t quite know what to do with it now that she’s drifted off to mingle, so he plucks a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray with a wink and a mouthed thank you to the server before turning his eyes back to robb. they’re dark brown, warm, a bit crinkled in the corners from smiling even though he’s barely crested thirty-two.

[huntershowl-moving]

@alreadybrcken – by firelight.

❝ ARE YOU ENJOYING THE NIGHT so far? ❞  lethe asks, folding her legs underneath her in one of the room’s plush velvet armchairs. firelight glitters off the layers of white silk covering nearly every inch of her form. veils cloak her hair and face as they always do, save for the eyes, dark and melancholy behind all that is hidden.  it’s a rare thing that lethe finds a moment away from the doting attention of her husband-to-be. a moment, that is, unsupervised by his close circle of friends. thomas is –– different. he looks at lethe, and every time he does, it almost feels as if he sees past. sees beneath. and there’s something interesting – despite their relationship – about the fact that somehow, adeo has reached into the heart of every soul in england except this one impenetrable man. what is it about him that makes his strings so hard to pull? gloved hands thread over each other in her lap. her eyes don’t leave his face. ❝ adeo seems to be having a fine time of it, as do our mutual friends. have you spoken to robb yet? ❞

[alreadybrcken]

@istoriaen​​​ said: “ better the devil you know than the devil you don’t. -from robb (modern verse??) “

{♛ x Random stuff in my inbox ||  always accepting x}

“What the fuck are you talking about?” That kid made absolutely no sense. Not only had he just burst in here (here being a motel room Tommy’d gotten situated in for the night), and then accused him of killing his father, but was now apparently also talking in complete riddles. Of course, Tommy was no stranger to weirdos, it kind of came with the territory, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed entertaining them. 

“Listen, kid.. I didn’t kill your father, alright? I don’t even know who he is. And I sure as hell am not a devil, if that’s what you’re trying to imply. Now, please. Could you put away that bloody gun before you hurt yourself?” 

[singofus-a]

@istoriaen requested a starter from ASTERIUS for PATROCLUS!

An arena defeat left Asterius bristling, especially since he felt he had not adequately improved his performance since taking on Zagreus alone earlier in that trial. Defeats against the short one were slowly becoming more frequent, but that was not an excuse for him to not improve. Even if he was to suffer more defeats, there were many eyes still on him expecting him to be performing at his best despite the strength of their godly opponent. The fans cared less about his victory, they wanted a show. They wanted to see him strike down and get in some good attacks. Today he felt he had failed them, and no amount of Theseus’s comforting words helped.

Once regenerated, Asterius had decided that independent training would only frustrate him more in this state. He needed another means to calm. The best way that came to mind was seek out his friend and sit in the peace of his riverside place. Often they read stories together, and he found a kind of escapism in the stories of other people in those tomes. Yet even if they weren’t to read, often the presence of his friend alone could calm his mind. They both did not even need to speak for this to have an effect.

So he did just that and sought out the man, walking back through the gardens of Elysium ignoring the clean-up that was occurring around him. Eventually he found Patroclus and, upon seeing he was not with other company, approached him and stood before him. Never did he assume it was alright to sit unless told.

“Greetings Patroclus, may I sit with you?”

[singofus-a]

@istoriaen plotted a starter from ARIADNE for ZAGREUS!

It was very odd to be back down here in the Underworld again, but thankfully this time she was very much alive and rather excited. Although Zagreus had never interacted with her, she had been watching his progress closely - often with Dionysus when the god gifted him boons and such. This feast dinner with the rest of the gods, both ouranic and cthonic, was the perfect time for everyone to meet, or meet again.

However, she’d been distracted after their meal in the lounge and went to have a wander where it was quieter. She’d caught a glimpse of something when she’d been walking in, through the entranceway of the west corridor. So she’d slipped away to look and found herself facing a portrait of herself. Why was there a portrait of her in the House of Hades?

Hearing footsteps and glancing to see who it was, she gave a bit of a confused smile.

“Do you know why there’s a picture of me here? I either think Dio slipped it into the commissions, or this is a hall of fame for the shades that successfully escaped this place.” She told him light-heartedly, now looking back at herself. It was a bit odd.