WALKPATHE. private and selective multi muse hub, housing characters from various media. with a focus on: ghosts of the past, legacy, family, the price of magic, history as a vicious cycle. set on medium to low activity. managed by mile, she/her, 25+
OVERVIEW. main muses are written on their respective sideblogs, while secondary, on request and voice testing are housed here. more on this. multiship, crossover and duplicate friendly. dark themes might be present, minors dni. i usually tag triggers in visual posts and not writing, but if you need anything tagged don't hesitate to ask! that being said: hello, i'm mile! italian and with far too many blorbos in my head. more in depth information to be found below the following list of muses.
+ MAIN MUSES
aro volturi. twilight, on @patr1arca
davos seaworth. asoiaf, on @seaw0rths
edward teach. our flag means death, on @bleckbeard
guy anatole. talamasca, on @readsm1nd
mousesack. the witcher, on @daeruwid
neil josten. all for the game, on @j0esten
sam winchester. supernatural, on @curruptum
vincent benitez. conclave, on @1nnocent
+ SECONDARY (underlined have information available)
the adjudicator (john wick), anakin skywalker (star wars), carmen farooq-lane (dreamer trilogy), charon (john wick), durza (the inheritance cycle), erik (kingdom come deliverance) frankie scott (john wick), fang runin (the poppy war), john gaius (the locked tomb), haymitch abernathy (the hunger games), ian malcolm (jurassic park), kassandra of sparta (ac odyssey), lan mandragoran (the wheel of time), lucius spriggs (our flag means death), manuel shaan (john wick), paz (john wick), roman roy (succession), solya (uprooted), winston scott (john wick)
+ VOICE TESTING
aaron minyard (aftg), jinx (arcane), saga anderson (alan wake 2), silco (arcane), thomas zane (alan wake 2).
+ private / on request: list here.
what's more (some brief rules)
i will not follow single hp muses blogs. for multis: if you write hp muses extensively i will not follow back / softblock. i simply don't wish to see that kind of content on my dash anymore, knowing full well what kind of person it is linked to.
i don't care for callout culture, unless the situation is truly dangerous / concerning and not just petty squabbles. i prefer my energy to be directed towards writing with people i feel comfortable with.
memes are the best way to interact with me. my meme tag is always open and turning memes into threads is appreciated, since i always try to leave room for a response. i love winging interactions, especially to break the ice, but plotting is of course always available.
shipping and developing dynamics are both things i enjoy, prior to discussion and always chemistry based. please do not forceship or follow me just to ship our muses together.
writing style: multi para, no one liners (on my end). normal text, minimal formatting, sporadic icons.
"they will hate me. they already hate the ones i love." @lastsons / elrond to gil-galad
elrond's voice is low and tinged with doubt, yet gil-galad hears him well over the gentle water sounds of the fountain they stand near. it is one of the newest constructions, as important to the young ruler as the strength of lindon's defenses; meant to uplift, to bring forth joy and levity, a reprieve from grim survival. he surveys the beautiful work of masonry a few moments longer, how the white of the stone glints in the sun, before turning towards the younger elf.
'' they will do no such thing. '' a shake of his head, certainty shining through the bright star-silver of his eyes. they will bear him no ill will. they will not dare impart any cruelty on him, borne out of deep rooted mistrust of the sons of feänor. that, ereinion understands. yet elrond and his brother shall have nought to do with it. here in golden lindon, at the very least, the high king of the noldor can attest to it. '' you are now under my care. a slight done unto you is a slight done unto me, you should bear this in mind. ''
his expression softens into a smile, setting aside the sterness his position often dictates. he wishes for elrond to be free of strife in this safe haven they have built.
03. throws an object across the room. + kara to erik rifp
he hears kara approaching long before they even come close to the room, up the inn's ramshackle wooden stairs. a few thundering strides and then, predictably, the door swings open to allow a human storm in. it doesn't break, at least, but the pitcher of something — cheap ale, most likely — certainly does. it smashes right against the opposite wall, at erik's back.
erik does not flinch. he doesn't even look up from his work; he keeps his hands moving, careful with how he drags the whetstone upon the blade. it is kara's sword that he holds over his knee, almost tenderly. he does not have to, they haven't required it of him, but it is habitual, and it soothes him when the hours drag on.
'' trouble? '' he sets the sword aside and looks at them with the same golden hue to his eyes, measuring, assessing. at ease, shoulders slightly hunched, he does not worry much; if there is trouble they can leave the small inn and go back to the road. erik needs but a word from them to spring up and start packing. they don't work together as often as before, when kara was still mentoring him, yet following their lead is a familiar reflex.
th.omas z.ane is the mood swings king, trust me. one second he is super clingy and swears he will wilt and die if you don't pay attention to him right this second, the next he hates being perceived. you also bet he prefers scratch to alan because!!! that's his own grief reflected back at him and he. does. not. like. it. he would literally rather do somersaults than confront it.
05. pacing the room with heavy steps. ( darling to zane! )
he has been trying to shift the scientist's attention back to him, calling out his name, but so far darling just keeps pacing. endlessly, it seems to him; which isn't really fair, it surely hasn't been very long. after all, time here is more of an abstract concept, something he has long since lost familiarity with.
what is a second, what is a day, when nothing passes or changes? no day-night cycle, no seasons. no telling how long he has been here for.
'' armaani, come. sit down, would you? '' he can hear the man mutter under his breath, all the while he goes on pacing the length of the room, back and forth and then again. it's probably scientific jargon thomas would not follow very well, and yet, he would rather have it directed at him and not the walls. he pats the table where he has been scribbling (mostly nonsense) on and a chair suddenly materializes to replace empty space. '' talk to me, it does you no good to stress all on your own. ''
his tone has lost the earlier petulant edge. it's coaxing now, like he is saying something he finds very reasonable and wants the other to follow suit.
After attacking Iran, Israel has closed all crossings into Gaza, shutting off humanitarian aid and escalating the dire humanitarian crisis facing Palestinians.
Gaza is under siege, and the price of staples has climbed tremendously. Community kitchens have been forced to close due to lack of supplies, and have been unable to afford to replenish their stocks.
Gaza Soup Kitchen is a grassroots organization that uses money from global donors to feed thousands of people every day. Their most recent campaign was to provide food parcels for Ramadan, and they are going to struggle to keep people fed in the midst of this new, horrifying war.
If you are able to, consider donating money to Gaza Soup Kitchen through their GoFundMe or GiveButter accounts to help stave off hunger in the midst of this chaos.
thomas zane, @walkpathe: sender grabs receiver's wrist to stop them from leaving.
the oceanview hotel is far more decadent than its counterpart. not that darling has ever actually visited the motel, no no, but he has read through many logs from astralnauts who have explored it. all of the questions he had are only amplified by this new spatial distortion. he thought zane was fast asleep in the corner (does he need to sleep? what effect has the dark place had on him?) and decided it was a good opportunity as any to explore. as soon as his hand touched the doorknob, quick as lightning, there was a tight grasp on his free hand. darling raises his eyebrows at zane, confused at the sudden intensity. ❛ what? ❜ with almost a touch of softness to his voice, ❛ i'm simply going to take a look at the rest of the hotel. the more i know, the better chance we have of formulating a plan that actually works. ❜
'' ๔๏ ภ๏Շ ๓๏שє. '' barely a sentence, it's closer to a sound design glitch; dissonant, sharp. the lights inside the room flicker in response to the owner's mood. it's just an instant, too fast for anything fully human to move, but when the lighting adjusts zane is no longer sprawled on the couch, eyes closed. he is standing right next to darling, instead, there to catch his wrist before the scientist can do something foolish. like leaving, for example. oh no, he can't have that.
tom blinks and tries to fix his voice into something neutral, to sound like he normally does. '' don't, please. it's too dangerous out there. '' his face twists, reflecting a pained sort of apprehension. it looks like he regrets having to say this (he really doesn't) but the worry for casper darling, at the very least, is authentic. if only a little self serving.
❛ this is not the time for your— ❜ the word was slipped from him quick as a slap, as his attempt to stand and bring solya with him proves useless. the hand around his wrist is a dark manacle born of the resentment they share, even between the exchange of teeth, past the blow of words. sarkan reaches for his waist, coughs through the dust and dirt they stumble in.
his eyes darken to a scarlet, & he despairs at his own anger, at how hateful he could feel towards the silver-haired bird to dream of burning him in his cinders. at least then, he would be in his own fire rather than the dark of the forest, that ugliness of corruption.
❛ the wood may cede before i let go of you, ❜ he spat the words, a threat if solya knew him well. the talons of a dragon around its brightest gem. though between them, it was the falcon who had a hold on him just then, until sarkan loosely wrapped his hand around his former flame’s throat. ❛ bear that as a curse, for sure it is no longer a kindness. get up, or i’ll drag you out myself. ❜ he shoves at him, pulls him close the next second, a seesaw of relief and fight. alarm kicking him into motion once more, he tries stubbornly to pull solya far from the wreckage. ❛ damn you, get up! ❜
disgruntled bird longs to sink his talons in smoldering flesh and leave behind red gauges until sarkan screams. only so he can sink into his skin and never give him a moment of peace again. it would serve him right. but they scarcely have the time for petty squabbles, not with the wood looming dark behind them, barely satiated after all the slaughter.
this time when sarkan pulls, solya goes with him. if anything because the hand at his throat startles the wizard into complacency, his eyes fluttering wide for a second. that is all it takes, in the end, a moment of weakness.
'' gods be good, sarkan— fine, '' he spats, ruffled feathers and eyes dark as coal. even his surrender comes with sharp edges. '' have it your way. ''
the trek to the village is spent in silence, bodies no longer touching. but solya can never leave anything well enough alone, always poking his beak in to chirp, so it is a matter of time before he decides to break the peace: '' you should leave this wretched place to rot. this is beneath you. ''
Erik thinks it a travesty. Stood there buffeted by rain, by tempest, by fury and the gape that would cleave God's cradle, he would wrangle with the agony that his lover has left. But, my word, how appropriate, Hal rejoices, that from where Erik's lumbering, all of the clouds would seem a ford from which its river's abandoned. Shadowed, all of the world appears empty, stripped of Heaven and warmth and those harps of God's host.
And where is He now? And where is Istvan? Or perhaps as Henry dogs him, where is hope?
(The skies clap. Erik wants his keeper, and Henry's had enough of him.
"Better that than your bed? Then you reckon he's choosing me still, that it?, months out by now, leech that he is. I see! Wasn't exactly enough that he left you in life, was it? Now, you're finally starting to see that he's left you in death, too."
And that's a joke, he laments, because! Because goodness! Against all that is true and right, that bastard's still at him. Jaw quavering, he would visit him as though the ravaging of a salt-burn, his laugh caught chortling in his chamber and in those valleys of his dreams. Fuck. It's scarcely appropriate, this arrangement, for this serpent to crawl his nights when his Erik's right there, but never do dreams come in those shades you would want them! Henry stirs. He can't remember, after all, lovely Skalitz in spring.
In June. "You can have him!" The blue and the laughter in his dear mother's voice... "In fact--"
Suddenly, as the thunder cracks the sky and Henry lifts his hand-- it is there: Istvan's chaperon, storm back-lit. "Aye, precious my lord is," Henry angers, "as all good and noble and righteous men are." Indeed. Don't you ever speak of Hans! Hans who's better than Istvan! He thwacks that rag go the ground. "I didn't sell myself to the Devil. Sigismund. Istvan. You're murderers. This is God's reckoning."
the sky thunders as erik's teeth creak. an ugly sound that tells him his jaw will ache for hours, just like it used to when he was a boy. it doesn't matter. istvan is not there to tell him to stop, so why should he bother?
istvan, who haunts his dreams in a shapeless blur; him falling, erik always too far to reach him. istvan, who will one day fade from his mind should he live long enough for it. just like his parents' faces and voices. his baby brother's name.
erik had already taken a half step away from the ramparts, from henry of skaliz upon them, but he snaps his head back like a dog on a leash and he wishes he had never come here at all. even in such poor light, he knows what henry is holding in his hands, he would know it anywhere. his stomach churns. he has never hated henry more.
he watches istvan's chaperon fall. his shoulders hunch as the fabric hits the ground and he doesn't think he can bear to pick it up, can't make his feet move forward — it's ruined, tainted. erik wonders if it smells of henry now. but he also wants to tuck it safely away, wants to be able to place it on istvan's golden brown curls. he won't. won't give henry one last laugh to aim at him. he leaves the chaperon where it rests, half drowned in a puddle of rain.
'' keep telling yourself that. anything that helps you sleep at night. ''
he doesn't know if henry heard him over the ear splitting sounds of thunder. he doesn't bother to wait for a response before turning to leave.
BLESSEDLY ALIVE AND YET NOT QUITE AT THE SAME TIME . he has learned to be most grateful for death being such a quiet affair . a slow , warm drift into nothing ; almost like going to sleep after a long , hard day's work - and yet knowing it is a little more final . alive , he knows he might come back each time . yet every time the life drains from him and he hands his fate over to the Lord of Light , that knowledge ( that hope ) disappears and it is like dying again for the first time . a little uncertain , a little scary , a little soothing . coming back , he's found , is much more painful and terrifying .
truly , there is no better way to shake off the strain than the warmth of a fire , a swig of wine and a lover by one's side . and though his heart may no longer beat , it still swells with the joy of loving Thoros in every new lifetime he gets .
" no worries . the only one I intend to court tonight is you . "
in whatever hidden little way he can . savour that hand on his back and Thoros' shoulder brushing his ; these moments when things go quiet and they can simply be , hidden by the veil of night . " aye . " Beric smiles , the firelight drawing shadows on his face . " to kicking Lannister asses . " drinking to being alive feels just a little too much like a lie after all . he takes a swig of wine himself ; sour , warm , but heating him up just the way it should . " we shall have some peace for a while now though . Clegane and his brutes will withdraw to Harrenhal to lick their wounds and wait for new orders , no doubt . " if only they could end this at the very source . . . but Tywin Lannister , so far , had remained out of reach .
dragging beric back from the black veil of death is getting harder; each time he is gone a little longer, utterly lost to him, eyes empty and body still. it terrifies him, and there is nothing thoros can do. he is but a conduit, he can bring his love back from death but only as long as the lord of light wills it.
he should wrap his arms around beric and never let go again. he presses himself as close as he can, instead, until their knees and shoulders are touching. this is the only way he can stifle the memory of beric's lifeless body, cruelly breathing down his neck each time he closes his eyes. the only way he can remind himself that beric is not gone yet.
his beloved is not gone, no. and he is speaking very sweetly indeed. that has him smile, at the very least. '' you hardly need to court me, ser. '' teasing now, he knocks their shoulders together, making their bodies sway a little. '' i am thoroughly yours. ''
the lannisters and the swines following their orders are very far from his thoughts. right at this moment, he could not care less about whichever hole they have decided to crawl into, if it can give them — and the riverlands as a whole — a little peace.
'' well earned, i'd say. '' twice — nay, five times over, in his humble opinion. '' it will be good for everyone. lord knows we need the rest. ''
thoros rests his head on beric's shoulder. heart heavy, yet full of love for this man.
01. avoids eye contact or looking at the floor.
02. wringing hands together in silence.
03. fidgeting with the hem of their shirt, unable to stay still.
04. looking at receiver in long silence before looking away.
05. silently leaves a folded note on the table in front of the other.
06. touches the others arm but pulls back out of guilt.
𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 -
01. slams fist onto a table without saying a word.
02. exhaling sharply through their nose and clenching their jaw.
03. throws an object across the room.
04. crossing their arms tightly, digging fingers into their own skin.
05. pacing the room with heavy steps.
06. glares at the other with a clenched fist.
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 -
01. gently pushing stray hair behind the others ear.
02. resting their forehead against the others.
03. cups the others face with both hands.
04. pressing a kiss to the others forehead in silence.
05. lingering touches against the others face.
06. wraps their arms around the other from behind and rests their head on the others shoulder.
𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 -
01. wiping their eyes before someone can notice.
02. pressing their face into a pillow to muffle sobs.
03. pulls the other into a desperate hug and wont let go.
04. silently reaching for the others hand, needing comfort.
05. walks into the room with red-rimmed eyes and no words.
𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 -
01. spins the other around without warning in a hug.
02. links arms with the other and tugs them along happily.
03. provides the other with a handmade gift.
04. tackles the other in a sudden and joyful hug.
05. kisses the others cheek unexpectedly and grins.
𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 -
01. backing away slowly and looking for exits.
02. hiding behind the other and peeking around.
03. flinches at sudden movement from the other.
04. presses their back against the wall with eyes darting around the room.
05. jumps at a noise and instinctively grabs the others hand.
𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠
01. tucks a blanket gently around the other person's shoulders.
02. applies a bandage with slow and deliberate care.
03. brings them food and water and watches to ensure they eat.
04. runs fingers through their hair in efforts to soothe.
05. rubs soothing circles on the others back while they cry.
06. stays silently by the others side in support without saying a word.
𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠
01. raises a hand but hesitates.
02. grips the others arm a bit too tightly.
03. pushes the other away with more force than necessary.
04. turns their back on the other to begin walking away without a word.
05. rips a shared photo in half without a word.
06. steps in closely with cold and narrowed eyes.