NEIZBEZHNYY

[halechief]

              without guilt   ——   which is also an art.   /   independent claire hale underwood, written by scallop. triggering themes present.

[tsarsmertis]

❛ i have survived, but i have not been spared. ❜

              ❝  no one ever is, little wolf. you’ll learn that soon enough.  ❞ the tsar of death is not bereft of softness, nor of empathy, when the moment strikes him. yet still, the kindness which crinkles about his eyes lies unmatched in the hard line of his mouth, which twitches not toward a smile, but a grimace, the source of it unknown.   ❝  and then, perhaps you’ll use the pain of it to your whim. and woe to the next person that thinks to cross you --- hmm ?   ❞

[tsarsmertis]

❛ secrets are jealous things, permitting no fraternization. ❜

              ❝  ultimately, there are none that can be kept forever.  ❞   silver hair catches in errant wind, white feather & bone  twisting upon the chill of the breeze. death does not shiver, nor does the ancient wisdom of his smile falter.  ❝  but such is the appeal of a secret. one cannot help but be thrilled at the notion of its telling.  ❞

[classic-starters]

starters from the 1910s novel, THE CHILDREN OF HÚRIN, by j. r. r. tolkien

“that oath is still on us.”

“but you live, and so does the enemy who has done this to us.”

“that was a great battle, they say.”

“what is fate?”

“it may be that we fled from the fear of the dark, only to find it here before us, and nowhere else to fly but the sea.”

“we are not afraid any longer.”

“grief is a hone to a hard mind.”

“what lies under your words?”

“where else is hope?”

“i shall be far away and all alone.”

“i would rather look on my foes with my true face.”

“what do you desire?”

“i see that i am mistaken.”

“we take their lives as forfeit, unless they can ransom them.”

“a strange way to gain entry to a fellowship … ”

“outlaws know no law but their needs.”

“then choose a new captain!”

“now tell your tale, and be brief.”

“is it farewell, then?”

“it is growing dark.”

“there is blood on the hill - top.”

“do you fear that you have followed a spider to the heart of his web?”

“why do you look upon me so?”

“i offer you freedom.”

“maybe the tale is too sad yet to tell.”

“i will flee no more.”

“we are hemmed in this land.”

“where all lies on chance, to chance we must trust.”

“you come at last; i have waited to long!”

“it was a dark road. i have come as i could.”

[tsarsmertis]

RED DEATH.

THIS IS NOTHING SHE DID NOT EXPECT.  she turns,    half - way,    still avoidant of meeting his gaze.   ❝    it matters not from whom i’ve heard such a thing.    it matters not what whispers i have heard.    you can’t think that i wouldn’t notice,    viy.    ❞    she almost falters with her words,    then,    half - caught between anger & sorrow,    neither of which she admits to in her tone.    SHE BETRAYS NOTHING, YET.    ❝    you see,    don’t you ?    ‘katushka,    katyusha,’    your affections have grown just as the length of my absences on the front.    WILL YOU DENY THIS,  TOO ?   ❞

                     all is silent but for the singing of wind in ancient halls, empty as the cavernous chest of its master, which echoes too with burial song.  he sees in her, in the space of a moment, the unhappy creature annatar had described, her own sins, he imagined, painted upon him to relieve her of the weight of them. he is indignant enough to double the depth of her apathy, and he forsakes the patience that is known of him.    ❝    will i deny the ‘affections’ you so begged me to develop ?  no, natalia, i think not. am i now to pay for heeding your demands that i treat your ward as my own blood ? will you punish her, too, for warming to me, as you had so hoped she would ?  what terrible fates befall the objects of your affections, when they dare to do as you say. i pity my poor brother for all you might ask of him, and all he might lose for the sake of it.  ❞

[tsarsmertis]

onesring‌.

the   advisor   bows   his   head,    faux-reverence   for   the   mighty   tsar   to   whom   death   and   all   things   grey   belonged.       his   words   were   lined   in     silver,     delivered   to   the   tsar   on   a   platter   of   the   finest   twists   of   tongue.               ‘     she   has   confided   it   to   me,    my   lord.    she   grows   evermore    desperate    to   abandon   you   and   your   country.       her   cruel   heart   belongs   to   your   brother.     ’          sauron   traipsed   about   the   grand   table   at   the   hall’s   centre,    considering   its   details   with   his   fingers.          ‘     she   intends   to   act   soon.    she   has   told   me   so.    and   your   brother   intends   to   welcome   her   with   open   arms.     ’          his   flowing,   white   robes   dragged   along   the   hard   stone   beneath   his   feet,    moving   to   stand   behind   the   tsar   on   his   great   throne.    his   eyes   burned   a   fiery   orange.          ‘     there   is   little   time   left   for   us   to   act.     ’

                    the hand not gripping cold marble raises itself, index & middle finger pressed against frowning lips as he considers  the weight of such transgressions, doubt never once occurring to him as he does. how many times has she run to Life’s comforts ? how many times had he gladly received her ?   viy casts his silver gaze down upon the supposed soothsayer, & considers for the first time their relative likeness.    ❝  what would be your act, advisor ? what might you do in my place ?  ❞   his speech is hushed, kingly even in the fact of its quietus --- perhaps especially so.     ❝  what would become of the covetous brother, and the inconstant wife ?  ❞

[tsarsmertis]

by the way not to be dramatic but i live on the east coast in va so lol. we’re fine and are now up in the part of nc that’s by tennessee but ya my job is in an evacuation zone for florence and my dad’s house is almost directly on the water and in zone a. bring on the waterworks i guess

[tsarsmertis]

so anyways i was told by the doc that i have sciatica 👌🏻

[tsarsmertis]

hehe i was at work from like 11:50am to 9:30pm hehe

[tsarsmertis]

what’s it like to be a well rested youngster with no responsibilities, i can’t fucking remember not being an old lady with millions of bills and a ugly fuck of a car and a cat that steals my fucking fruit off my goddamn plate

[softangeldreams-blog]

“Swan-white of heart; I smile not ever neither do I weep. I am as lovely as a dream in stone.”

— Charles Baudelaire, Beauty (via aynger)

[tsarsmertis]

i’m getting real fucking sick of my work’s bullshit

[auldcine]

Hate is a very exciting emotion. Haven’t you noticed? Very exciting. I hate you, too, Johnny.

Rita Hayworth and Glenn Ford in Gilda (1946)

[tsarsmertis]

i’m viy turning into a fuckin albatross and cawing a doleful cry as he literally flies away from crashing marya’s ‘wedding’

[tsarsmertis]

anyways i started a diet today in solidarity w/ my dad so the moral of the story is i’m hungrier than fuck and tired

[charobnitsa]

TSARS,    TSARITSAS    /    DEMONS,    DEVILS.    mutuals can reblog.

[theburnthatkeepseverything]

“I ask the impossible: love me forever. Love me as you relish your loneliness, the anticipation of your death, mysteries of the flesh, as it tears and mends. Love me as your most treasured childhood memory– and if there is none to recall– imagine one, place me there with you. Love me withered as you loved me new. Love me as if I were forever– and I, will make the impossible a simple act, by loving you, loving you as I do””

— Ana Castillo, I Ask the Impossible: Poems.