#seiyros

[endreamt]

                 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒     /     𝐀  𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍  𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

we  become  by  the  blood    ,    with  teeth  snared    :    i  am  going  to  rip  out  your  throat  with  my  teeth     !     bathe  in  the  gore  of  the  betrayer  until  nothing  is  left     .     oil  dishonest  ichor  flows  expeditious  as  lethe     .     she  digs  her  fingers  in     ,     claws  for  the  light     .     determined     ,     and     agile     .     fueled  by  choler  and  laceration  and  disquietude  with  nails  half-clinging  to  the  surface    .     hey  cannot  hold  her  body     /     the  corpse  eater’s  maw  sharp  and  deep     ,     drool  clinging     ,     atmospheric  famine  as  rapacious  body  continues     .     in  one  heart  there  is  nothing  but  a  corpse  in  the  moonlight     .     in  another     ,     nothing     .     stillness     .     unfathomable  halcyon  notwithstanding  the  vehemence  that  plagues  and  beseeches  a  mask     .     contorted  by  nightmare  and  insomnia     ,     half-hidden  by  those  who  happily  dance  with  madness     .     she  becomes     !     the  greater  god     ,     hungry     ,     and     feathered     .     buried  halfway  in  the  mud  with  wounds  singing  ancient  praise     ❪     do  ye  believe  naught     ?     believe  in  me  wherefore  tongue  declares  truth  for  i  am  an  earthly  thing     .     abideth  by  my  honor  for  devils  believeth  or  fall  short  of  thy  violent  glory     .     ❫

edelgard  screams     .     an  unwholesome     ,     ungodly  sound  from  betwixt  excruciating  breast     ,     bounced  from  a  ruptured  sternum  where  fleeting  heart  resides     .     tosses  and  turns     ,     succumbs  to  nightmares  of  a  world  she  could  not  fix     .     abandoned  by  those  she  desired     ,     forgotten  by  those  she  abhorred     .     let  me  feast  on  false  god’s  bone     !     lend  me  her  marrow     !     tears  of  vexation  long  since  dried  up     ,     drought  inspired  appearance  perfect  as  a  plain  doll     ,      ball-jointed  rotations  of  limbs  reach  for  the  surface     .     ought  it  be  love  in  her  eye     ?     the  picturesque  landscape  of  the  one  she  craves     ?     rather     :     in  their  place  becomes  rheia     ,     acheron's  archbishop  and  commander    ,     fraudulent  goddess  that  now  smiles     .     enbarr’s  bloodshed     .     edelgard  sits  upright  and  spits     ,     tastes  acid     ,    remarks  betrayal     .

❛     𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋  𝐍𝐎𝐓  𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄  𝐓𝐎  𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐌𝐄  𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 .      ❜     lavish  firestorm  pours  forth  from  hoarse  chords  as  body  shakes  and  reacts    .     pulls  away  as  if  burned     ❪     unholy  body  troubled  by  boasting blasphemer  downtrodden  by  the  rain  and  their  wounds     ,     fearfulness  that  creeps  over  as  sorer  punishments  reshatters  and  commits     .     mediate  terror     ?     fulfill  revolution    !     that  is  the  covenant  forged  by  the  blood     ,     made  by  the  blood     ,     loved  by  the  blood     .     wilt  thou  hear  it     ?     ❫     upright  now  with  the  weight  of  aymr     ,     artificially  meeting  religion  with amour  propre     .     ❛     𝘪  𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥  𝘵𝘰  𝘱𝘶𝘵  𝘢𝘯  𝘦𝘯𝘥  𝘵𝘰  𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳  𝘵𝘺𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘺     .     i  promised  to  forge  a  new  world     !    𝐛𝐲  𝐦𝐲  𝐨𝐰𝐧  𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫     ,     𝐢  𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥  𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋  𝐲𝐨𝐮     !      ❜

𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝     ,     𝐰𝐡𝐲  𝐝𝐨  𝐲𝐨𝐮  𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐩    ?     i  cry  for  the  unloved     .     for  the  forsaken     .     for  those  brought  to  death for  having  their  own  whims  and  worries     ,     for  trying  to  rise  above  the  beast     .     𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝     ,     𝐰𝐡𝐲  𝐝𝐢𝐝  𝐲𝐨𝐮  𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞  𝐮𝐬    ?     it  was  not  my  decision  but  one  placed  upon  me     ;     we  must  view  it  simply  as  our  progenitor  encouraging  rebellion in  my  heart     .     𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝     ,     𝐚𝐫𝐞  𝐲𝐨𝐮  𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐭𝐨  𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞  𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞  𝐧𝐨𝐰    ?     ah     ,     i  think  it  must  be  so     .     my  blood  has  abandoned  me     .     i  am  so  very  sorry  i  could  never  protect  you     .

she  becomes  the  new  sword  and  shield     ,     bloody  mouth  and  teeth and  tongue     .     to  rise  from  the  ash  of  that  which  she  created     ,     a  phoenix  evolved  from  an  eagle     .      twisted  creations could  not  lie  among     .     ❛      for  the  people  of  fódlan     !    𝘧𝘰𝘳  𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢     ,     𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳     ,     𝘢𝘯𝘥  𝘧𝘢𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘩𝘶𝘴     !     for  those  who  i  have  slain  to  get  here  and  for  those  who  have  tried  to  slay  me     !     ❜     amyr  raises  to  avalon     ,     fragmented  armor  and  flesh     .     therefore  now  she  lives  to  build  zion  whoso  sheddeth  all  man’s  blood  with  her  axe     :     the  new  martyr    ,     the  new  saint     .     long  would  emperor  edelgard  live     !      ❛     𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐌𝐄     !      ❜          @seiyros          !

[inexalt]

“ Maybe it was fate. ” :)

            RHEA  STANDS  CLOSE  ENOUGH  TO  REACH  OUT  AND  TOUCH.  the  thought  paralyses  her,  as  if  the  act  of  it  would  make  her  real -  and  as  if  the  act  of  it  would  make  her  fade,  another  golden  coin  of  stolen  memory  slipped  between  the  floorboards  of  her  mind  and  forgotten.  rhea  stands  close  enough  to  reach  out  and  touch,  and  the  god  in  her  remembers.  the  progenitor  aches  and  reaches  for  her  blood.  

            (  the  human  in  byleth -  what  little  is  left  of  her  stillborn  heart,  pale  and  dead -  recoils.  oh,  god,  it  says.  what  did  you  do  to  me ?  )

            nothing  about  her  feels  like  it  belongs  here,  not  even  the  guts  in  her  own  damned  belly.  if  you  took  a  knife  to  her  now  she’s  not  even  sure  that’s  what  would  come  spilling  out -  maybe  nothing  would.  maybe  just  centuries - old  blood  that  isn’t  hers  and  great  big  spools  of  fate,  whatever  that  was  made  of,  all  tangled  up  and  stringing  along  the  vessel  she  called  a  body.  maybe  fate  was  just  another  name  for  nothing.

            maybe  fate  was  just  another  name  for  rhea.

            ‘  i  don’t  know  if  i  believe  in  it,  ’  byleth  says.  her  voice  doesn’t  tremble,  but  it  feels  thin  and  tight  in  her  throat,  like  the  scream  of  a  bowstring  pulled  too  far.  rhea  looks  small  under  the  cathedrals  high  ceilings,  yawning  above  her  with  their  stained - glass  teeth  bared,  but  not  insignificant.  she  takes  up  the  entire  room.  

            ‘  or  im...  ’  byleth  swallows,  her  throat  working.  ‘  i’m  finished  believing  in  it.  i’m  finished  believing  in  a  world  where  fate  is  just  a  cruel  thing  that  happens  to  you.  ’

            and  what  she  really  means  is  i’m  finished  being  the  lamb  to  your  perpetual  slaughter.  the  only  human  piece  of  me  left  were  my  mothers  eyes  and  you  finally  took  those  from  me  too,  but  the  progenitor  in  her  aches,  and  the  words  don’t  come  so  easily.

[mauricrests]

HEAD     BOWED     IN     PRAYER     ,          dawning   sunlight   pours   through   stained   glass   ,    paints   the   cathedral’s   floor   in   a   myriad   of   colour    ——       she   sees   none   of   it   ,    though   ,    eyes   closed   ,    desperate   pleas   murmured   to   the   quiet   cathedral   .    marianne   is   more   than   accustomed   to   the   quiet   ,    the   solitude   of   early   morning       (      the   safety   to   plead   to   the   goddess   is   calming   .    she   doesn’t   think   it   does   her   any   good   .      )

❛       DEAR     GODDESS     ...       ❜

@seiyros     :’)

[knightsdeath]

HALLOWED WOMAN / HOLY WOMAN : revered and feared in twists and turns / and to him? to him she is merely another among the crowd, hardly above a commoner nor a king and he ( little lordling, the shadow that once was, the duke to be or so they cry ) cares little for TITLES nor the sanctity of the holy church. heresy !! heresy !! how little he cares, indeed. even before her, and her all-seeing gaze. 

he doesn’t look at her directly for all that his expression is unmoved by her presence before him and he sees in his mind’s eye : the masses, bowing. how wretched. ( once upon a time there was the heart—full boy who knelt at the foot of the goddess and prayed so devoutly / before he ate his own heart whole. ) ❝ ———— do you have need of my blade? ❞

@seiyros // are you made of holy rot ? are you holy wrought ? —— sc.

[healingpoise]

♗ :)

-  ̗̀  icons babey —— // accepting !!!

im breaking the 1 icon rule bc rhea is gorgeous and im weak n gay

[mauricrests]

i think your portrayal of Marianne is so vivid & complex at the same time?? you give her so much life, and i admire how deeply you know her psyche & personality. kjshg

how’s   my   porytrayal   …   ?       /       @seiyros

HEY   GHOST   ??    this   is   like   …    listen   .    i’m   honoured   .    i’m   honoured   !!!!!    &   i’m   taking   the   chance   to   express   how   much   i   love   your   spin   on   rhea   ,    &   how   absolutely   gorgeous   your   writing   is   .   thank   you   both   for   your   kind   words   &   for   blessing   my   dash   ❤

[hlycrwn]

“ it’s not a dream , it’s a memory ”

                 IT WOULD BE A LIE TO SAY HE FINDS HIMSELF COMFORTABLE IN HER PRESENCE     and more of one to say that he used to  ,  once  ,  when rather her eyes upon him felt   too knowing  ,  too much   /   now  ,  he has an understanding of   why that may be   to add an extra layer of discomfort to their every interaction .   which is not to say that he   detests her  either     ━━━━━     more  ,  he simply never comes here to see   her  ,  his visits instead to catch up with his   old professor   their beloved spouse   &   when he does  ,  by chance  ,  run into   lady rhea  on these hallowed grounds  …  civility  ,  on both ends .   a mortal - weary goddess   &   a god - weary mortal .   a candle burned at both ends  ,  they stare each other down in their balancing act upon the charred wick .

the surprise he feels upon recognizing her silhouette  ,  then  ,  comes not from a place of confusion or bewilderment  ;   to see her is expected  ,  this land hers to tread upon as she so desires  ,  no     ━━━━━     what catches him   off guard   is the way she seems to hold herself  ,  that   divine aura  gone to make way for something more somber  /  something  older  ,  as if she herself were a relic  ,  blood and flesh to cease all movement and simply   remain  where she currently stands  ,  gaze fixed upon the stained glass windows of the church’s interior .   speaking feels more like a sin than it ever has  ,  as if to break the silence would damn him to the flames right then and there  ,  but   /   he steps forward  ,  with the grace of a man rather than a   king on high   and keeps his tone soft as a place is taken beside her .

❛     curfew was hours ago  ,  as you are no doubt aware .   though it always did feel more like a suggestion than a rule .     ❜               it’s a jest  ,  at least in part   ;   a remark on   times long since passed  ,  when the blood upon his hands was not familiar   &   the most major of battles were prefaced by  ‘ mock ’ .  just a child then  ,  a student   ;   and she  ,  seemingly  ,  falsely  ,  simply an   archbishop .   dimitri watches her shoulder rise and fall  ,  a release in the form of extended exhale before rhea turns her attention to him     ━━━━━     if only from her peripherals  ,  if only for a   moment .               ❛     i would ask what has you here at such an hour  ,  rather than within your own bed but i imagine i could wager a guess without finding myself too far off the mark .     ❜

a slight cant of his head  ,  arms crossing o’er chest .               ❛     a bad dream  ,  perhaps ?     ❜there’s not a soul alive without them these days  ,  it feels like .   that she shakes her head is unexpected . 

“   no  ,  it’s not a dream   ;   it’s a memory    “     or  ,  it   was   unexpected   ;  now he simply understands the details of what plagues her  ,  but a hair’s width from initial guess .   his gaze wanders  ,  then  ,  without meaning to  ;  settles on the discoloration ‘round her wrists that serve as a reminder to the time she spent under the empire’s roof  ,  emperor edelgard’s   most esteemed and   well hidden  guest .   he could ask her  ,  if the memory stems from there or from a time before or   /   a time   before   ,  when the bones of the divine still resided within her own body rather than ripped out  ,  weaponized   ;   a   tool   for destruction bathed in the idea of   revolution .   he could ask her  ,  would not be   smited   for a mere question though whether or not she wishes to answer would be another story entirely   /   he could  ,  but he does not .   they are not nearly close enough to   share ghosts   and the moonlight streaming in through carefully constructed windows does not lend itself to   make believe   this night .

so  ,  instead  :               ❛     i see .  so the past haunts even you  ,  rhea .     ❜               title long since discarded  ,  he cares little to refer to her as   ‘ lady ’   &   finds no concern for whether or not she addresses him   royally .   they’re people   /  just people  ,  in the end  ,  and his gaze lifts to look up upon where her own has drifted back to  ,  high above the both of them .   he sees glass  ,  colored   &   beautiful but   mere glass   all the same   ;  he can only wonder what she sees in the reflection  ,  in the light it casts .

“   i am not immune to ghosts  ,  dimitri .   i have yet to meet a soul who is .   ”     she says his name as if speaking to him yet he finds  ,  somehow  ,  it sounds more   self - aimed   than anything   /   as if he could be here or not be here and it would matter little  ,  her words meant to exist rather than be heard .   he remembers her sermons vividly  ,  commanding and captivating   ;   the woman beside him now speaks opposite that energy  ,  the only thing similar being the face that speaks them . 

❛     and if you were to meet one  ,  a soul without ghosts living in their bones ?     ❜               “   they would have my pity and my envy in equal measure .   ”     ━━━━━     his eyes close  ,  then  ,  body still .   the answer echos in his rib cage with a sickening familiar intensity   ;   the understanding of loss   /   the inability to let go .

(   it is hours before the silence breaks  ,  a bell - chime ringing overhead .   they glance at one another and   /   they do not say goodbye as the distance between them widens   )

@seiyros   /   alice  :  madness returns   .   not accepting .

[arrwd]

" a threat, indeed. " :)))))

❛         DON’T     KNOW     WHAT     ELSE     YOU’RE     EXPECTING     .         ❜