storyhaunt-a

[storyhaunt-a]

THAT'S HOW YOU GET DEATHLESS, VOLCHITSA. WALK THE SAME TALE OVER AND OVER, UNTIL YOU WEAR A GROOVE IN THE WORLD, UNTIL EVEN IF YOU VANISHED, THE TALE WOULD KEEP TURNING, KEEPING PLAYING, LIKE A PHONOGRAPH, AND YOU'D HAVE TO GET UP AGAIN, EVEN WITH A BULLET THROUGH YOUR EYE, TO PLAY YOUR PART AND SAY YOUR LINES. (c)

#PROFESIE. A PANFANDOM, MULTIMUSE HUB BLOG DEVELOPED BY EMILY.

[storyhaunt-a]

SITTING IN SOMEONE'S LAP PROMPTS.

listen. i want to tell ye that i have infinite reasons for making this. that i've been designing this for weeks, months even. but i can't. this happened because i saw one (1) meme and aligned that with two (2) cups of coffee. either way besties, you're all getting a strangely detailed list of reasons to drop your muse into another muse's lap. you wanna switch the roles? add a [ REVERSE ] if you want your muse to be the lap that's being sat in! don't add to this list, don't claim it as your own, i'll curse all your potatoes to be soapy and sad to consume.

[ SHAVE ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so they can carefully shave the last of the receiver's stubble from their face.

[ MAKE-UP ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap in order to get a better vantage point to apply makeup to their face.

[ SNIP-SNIP ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap whilst giving them a haircut.

[ HAIR ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so that the receiver can style or just play with their hair in peace.

[ CAR ]: sender ends up sitting in the receiver's lap whilst in a very crowded car together.

[ STUMBLE ]: sender loses their balance and trips backwards, falling into the receiver's lap in the process.

[ INTIMIDATION ]: sender, in an effort to frighten the receiver by invading their personal space, sits in their lap to try and inspire discomfort or fear in them.

[ LOOK ]: sender, wanting to see something that can only really be seen from where the receiver is sitting, sits in their lap in order to see it as well.

[ HEAL ]: sender ends up in the receiver's lap trying to tend to their wounds to the best of their abilities.

[ FEAR ]: a frightened sender sits in the receiver's lap in an effort to feel some measure of safety and protection.

[ COMFORT ]: sender, after a challenging and emotionally draining experience, settles into the receiver's lap in search of a feeling of comfort.

[ ADJUST ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap in order to fix their collar or tie or other item of clothing.

[ STRADDLE ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap with one leg on either side of their legs, straddling them effectively.

[ EMBRACE ]: sender settles in the receiver's lap to give them a long, well-deserved hug in comfort.

[ CARRY ]: sender, having been carried by the receiver for other reasons, winds up sitting in their lap once they sit down.

[ THROW ]: sender flings themselves at the receiver, so eager for a hug that they end up in their lap.

[ DROP ]: exasperated (or maybe just exhausted) the sender drops down into the receiver's lap to rest.

[ CUDDLE ]: eager for some well-earned cuddling, the sender finds it much easier for everyone involved to sit in the receiver's lap during the cuddle session.

[ MOVIE ]: while watching a movie together (and possibly being so distracted by the film that they don't realize what they're doing) the sender settles back into the receiver's lap.

[ CHAIR ]: the distinct lack of available chairs in a room results in the sender having no choice but to sit in the receiver's lap.

[ CLOSENESS ]: after having been apart for a considerable length of time, the sender sits into the receiver's lap just to be close to them.

[ PRETEND ]: in a bid to persuade others that they're in a relationship (even though they're probably not) the sender climbs into the receiver's lap to convince the on-lookers of their legitimacy.

[ LEARN ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so they can teach them a particular practical skill (e.g. pottery, knot-tying etc.)

[ ACCIDENT ]: the sender, unaware that the seat they're trying to claim is occupied, drops into the receiver's lap without realizing it.

[ EXHAUSTION ]: the sender, surrounded by nothing but uncomfortable places to rest in, finds a solution by sitting in the receiver's lap in order to rest and possibly sleep.

[ CHILLED ]: the sender and receiver find themselves in a particularly cold room, leading the sender to sit in the receiver's lap in order to share body heat.

[ KISS ]: the sender lowers themselves into the receiver's lap in order to kiss them properly.

[ FLIRT ]: the sender, only just beginning to explore the romantic side of a relationship with the receiver, sits in their lap in order to express their feelings clearly.

[ ROMANCE ]: the sender, in a well-established romantic relationship with the receiver, sits in their lap just because they can.

[ THRONE ]: having found the receiver sitting in their throne, the sender sits in their lap in order to symbolically and physically share the seat.

[storyhaunt-a]

i do think, like … x'yra is an individual who can 'improve'. but at the same time, that is an incredibly difficult thing to achieve because of how she's been raised and just how ingrained her beliefs are, how encouraged she has been to be who she currently is — and especially as an elevated chosen of lolth, so to speak, there are aspects of her that can't be easily … changed, i guess. and ultimately, it is not detrimental that she be a 'good' person; that's not at all what i'm saying, because. (gestures). not around here, partner. brain immediately died, but what i'm saying is —

[storyhaunt-a]

susan pendragon and james yeung were romantically involved from their late teens to their early twenties. although the romantic aspect of their relationship didn't last — as a result of shared trauma, wherein they both realized that, at the stage of life they were at and with everything they had gone through, they could not healthily pursue that kind of dynamic, with each other or anyone else — the love they felt for each other was and is no less real, and they both helped the other grow as an individual during their time together. they are still extremely close friends and stay in contact / regularly hang out.

[storyhaunt-a]

WE HAVE COME TO DIE FOR THE DRAGON QUEEN.

independent & private rhaenyra targaryen from george rr martin’s fire and blood. loved by kore.

[storyhaunt-a]

i can't decide whether or not susan hails from a lineage of knights or not, but i do think there is a kind of, like … idk. i think there's just something about the concept of her not coming from any prestigious or powerful family, despite what her surname might suggest; the idea that her power and her capabilities are her own, that she built herself, that she is the first of her ilk. the idea of her not having to live up to a legacy, not having to follow in anyones shadow, but instead being the one that casts that shadow in the first place. do you understand. do you

[storyhaunt-a]

susan pendragon.

[storyhaunt-a]

calwyn mahariel did not have a choice when it came to being conscripted into the grey wardens. when duncan found her, she was already ill and dying, tainted and slowly rotting from the inside; no matter what path she chose, death would be standing outside her door, and there would be no true peace found. she is of good heart and mind, and though she was a heavy help during the fifth blight, it was not the road she would have went down if she had had a true choice in the matter.

relatedly, due to the nature of her sickness before conscription, and the fact that joining the grey wardens was only a temporary solution that would delay the inevitable, she is not the strongest foe on the field; though she is an adept archer and excellent rogue, her true skills lie in her precognition and darkspawn insight. the blood that runs through her is strong — she knows things that others do not, hears things they cannot hear, sees that which has already and has yet to happen.

[storyhaunt-a]

STARTER CALL. capped at 6. going to be slow with these. please specify a muse / a few muses you'd want to write with!

[storyhaunt-a]

the sun, slowly and steadily sinking beneath the canopy, long and dark shadows cast in his wake of its fading warmth. a comfortable patch of grass and moss beneath the welcome shade of an elder tree had been designated as rýsir's spot for the day, and the gyryth, well awake and well aware with his arms folded loosely over his chest, rests easily under those vibrant leaves. it's been awhile since he's had the chance to just lean back and bask — typical of rýsir was it to stalk after @redemnation, latch on to your tail and growl over you like some jealous beast protecting its meal. today … well, even beasts like some reprieve every once in awhile, and he knows you won't go far.

rýsir hears you as you step through the undergrowth to this private little haven of his, set apart and distanced from the camp as it is; knows it is you who has finally returned. laziness and leisure curiosity keep him where he sits with back against that tree and his eyes closed. he wants to see what you will do.

exasperated (or maybe just exhausted), you drop down into rysir's lap to rest.

he grunts the moment you make contact with him — you are nowhere near unexpected, but the sudden weight of you is. one dark eye cracks open, ear flicking in mock annoyance, and he for all the world seems irritated that you have decided to disturb his beauty nap … yet, still does he readjust, shifting his legs to give you a more comfortable resting place and uncross his arms to half-heartedly hold you. the gesture is almost tender, strangely so, and the curious look he gives you does not alleviate such ideas. do you taste concern in that knit-together brow of his, in the way the hand upon your back gently kneads against you?

no. surely not.

" what do you want? " you know well enough by now that the words are not spoken unkindly. the question is straightforward, genuine, lacking only the warmth of a man more practiced with compassion. what do you want, he asks you, praying only for direction — to know if it is silence you desire, or a means to complain, or just a place to rest. soot-gray tail, snaking towards your own, not yet tangling, but seeming to want to.

[storyhaunt-a]

SITTING IN SOMEONE'S LAP PROMPTS.

listen. i want to tell ye that i have infinite reasons for making this. that i've been designing this for weeks, months even. but i can't. this happened because i saw one (1) meme and aligned that with two (2) cups of coffee. either way besties, you're all getting a strangely detailed list of reasons to drop your muse into another muse's lap. you wanna switch the roles? add a [ REVERSE ] if you want your muse to be the lap that's being sat in! don't add to this list, don't claim it as your own, i'll curse all your potatoes to be soapy and sad to consume.

[ SHAVE ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so they can carefully shave the last of the receiver's stubble from their face.

[ MAKE-UP ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap in order to get a better vantage point to apply makeup to their face.

[ SNIP-SNIP ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap whilst giving them a haircut.

[ HAIR ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so that the receiver can style or just play with their hair in peace.

[ CAR ]: sender ends up sitting in the receiver's lap whilst in a very crowded car together.

[ STUMBLE ]: sender loses their balance and trips backwards, falling into the receiver's lap in the process.

[ INTIMIDATION ]: sender, in an effort to frighten the receiver by invading their personal space, sits in their lap to try and inspire discomfort or fear in them.

[ LOOK ]: sender, wanting to see something that can only really be seen from where the receiver is sitting, sits in their lap in order to see it as well.

[ HEAL ]: sender ends up in the receiver's lap trying to tend to their wounds to the best of their abilities.

[ FEAR ]: a frightened sender sits in the receiver's lap in an effort to feel some measure of safety and protection.

[ COMFORT ]: sender, after a challenging and emotionally draining experience, settles into the receiver's lap in search of a feeling of comfort.

[ ADJUST ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap in order to fix their collar or tie or other item of clothing.

[ STRADDLE ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap with one leg on either side of their legs, straddling them effectively.

[ EMBRACE ]: sender settles in the receiver's lap to give them a long, well-deserved hug in comfort.

[ CARRY ]: sender, having been carried by the receiver for other reasons, winds up sitting in their lap once they sit down.

[ THROW ]: sender flings themselves at the receiver, so eager for a hug that they end up in their lap.

[ DROP ]: exasperated (or maybe just exhausted) the sender drops down into the receiver's lap to rest.

[ CUDDLE ]: eager for some well-earned cuddling, the sender finds it much easier for everyone involved to sit in the receiver's lap during the cuddle session.

[ MOVIE ]: while watching a movie together (and possibly being so distracted by the film that they don't realize what they're doing) the sender settles back into the receiver's lap.

[ CHAIR ]: the distinct lack of available chairs in a room results in the sender having no choice but to sit in the receiver's lap.

[ CLOSENESS ]: after having been apart for a considerable length of time, the sender sits into the receiver's lap just to be close to them.

[ PRETEND ]: in a bid to persuade others that they're in a relationship (even though they're probably not) the sender climbs into the receiver's lap to convince the on-lookers of their legitimacy.

[ LEARN ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so they can teach them a particular practical skill (e.g. pottery, knot-tying etc.)

[ ACCIDENT ]: the sender, unaware that the seat they're trying to claim is occupied, drops into the receiver's lap without realizing it.

[ EXHAUSTION ]: the sender, surrounded by nothing but uncomfortable places to rest in, finds a solution by sitting in the receiver's lap in order to rest and possibly sleep.

[ CHILLED ]: the sender and receiver find themselves in a particularly cold room, leading the sender to sit in the receiver's lap in order to share body heat.

[ KISS ]: the sender lowers themselves into the receiver's lap in order to kiss them properly.

[ FLIRT ]: the sender, only just beginning to explore the romantic side of a relationship with the receiver, sits in their lap in order to express their feelings clearly.

[ ROMANCE ]: the sender, in a well-established romantic relationship with the receiver, sits in their lap just because they can.

[ THRONE ]: having found the receiver sitting in their throne, the sender sits in their lap in order to symbolically and physically share the seat.

[storyhaunt-a]

thinking about rivalt and his pact. the fact that he was born into it, that he's never had a choice, that freedom is not something he's ever been able to conceptualize and understand. rivalt, his life ruled by his patron, an eldritch and incomprehensible thing, his mind and body things through which it can experience the world. rivalt and the way he can do sickening things, terrifying things, the way his magic is as old and gnarled and unknown as the thing that haunts his every living-dead moment.

[storyhaunt-a]

people are pissing me off this morning*, so friendly reminder that the vast majority of the characters found on this blog are, in fact, transgender. canons and originals both. if that's something you take issue with or are uncomfortable with, i am gesturing towards the door. i have no intention or desire to change how i portray my characters, and their transness is not a point of shame for them or me.

[storyhaunt-a]

rýsir normally has more manners than he seems to be displaying on this night. typically, he has half a mind to speak clear on his intentions, to make himself the focus and lay bare what it is he wants. tonight, though, tonight he fancies himself a bold and teasing thing; settling in comfortably behind you while you scan inked pages, ever-rapt and absorbed in whatever words they sing to you. he genuinely does expect you to notice him, even before he brings his lips to the sensitive curve of your neck — his fangs no more than a gesture meant to rile or bother. and then, sharp movement where it is not anticipated, and the soon-following promise of blood light but sharp on the tongue. lucky are you for what manners and sense rýsir still has, that he does not make immediate strides to taste more.

he does not quite pull away from you, but he does keep razor-teeth safe and away. for now. " as you say. " purred are the words as they leave rýsir's lips, a light rumble against skin; and, most curiously, there is an apology there, somewhere hidden beneath leisure tone. " i didn't mean to interrupt you, alaíre — nor did i intend to startle you. i can fix it, if you'd like. "

UNPROMPTED

@deaith rolls . . . hm. bites you

distracted by the book opened on your lap, you are every inch a hare ensnared. movement hemmed raw by instinct inadvertently causes his fangs to break skin. marked. wanted. pleasure stains your cheeks the height of dusk and mind with utter nonsense. ". . . arsehole," you mumble halfheartedly, "ask next time."

[storyhaunt-a]

kaveh akbar, 'calling a wolf a wolf' // doc luben, 'love letters or suicide notes' // @/nutnoce, tumblr // 'my body's made of crushed little stars', mitski // @/ojibwa, tumblr // 'spring', mary oliver

[storyhaunt-a]

were he any other man, he may take offense to sol'rys' suggestion. were he any other man, he may scoff and throw up his hands, and ask the drow with agitated indignation if he is not good enough; perhaps jab at the fact that shadowheart is not here right now, but he is. though part of andras does prickle and grate, it is mostly unrelated to what sol'rys says — he cannot help the fact that he has no idea how to deal with anyone, least of all him, and any potential tact he could possibly have in this situation has all but been lost to him.

" let me correct myself, " andras begins, not quite frustrated, but certainly strained, " i do not have as gentle a touch as shadowheart. i can heal you just fine, but ... " it might hurt if you squirm. no matter how much andras tried to be more careful in his approach regarding magic, especially healing magic, the weave seemed ever-inclined to take a more visceral approach; fusing and filling in the cracks of bone, knotting tendons and veins back together, stitching bleeding flesh and muscle — he could do those things well enough, but it was the numbing that he needed focus to achieve. he could not heal without pain, not on a whim. " as you said, an archer is useless without his wrist. if you want to wait for shadowheart, by all means; but i can help you. "

@starlyht

  sol'rys,  too,  had little to say.  he would have been content in silence,  especially as he initially had wanted nothing of the other's healing touch.    ---   or,   well,   what little healing touch he'd possessed,  judging from the command issued.

at first he'd been uncertain as to why he felt so uneasy around the tiefling.  their apprehension around him lingered in the air like the scent of an open wound,  and,  initially,  with no small irritation he'd credited it to a surfacer's usual distaste towards drow.  he was no longer certain when he'd started to suspect their shared apprehension was something different,  something a bit more animal,  but his misgiving did not ease even now.

“perhaps  ...”   it was a strange feeling,  to dance around such a matter as their shared predicament.  he was not a man for such delicacy.  “perhaps in this matter it is best i wait for shadowheart?”  a fine excuse to continue avoiding each other,  despite the agony shooting through his arm.  he did not wish to be touched by an inferior healer,  naturally.  the fingers of his opposite hand remained curled around the break to keep it as motionless as possible.   “an archer is useless without his wrist.” he was accustomed to pain, anyway. to tolerate a few hours would be nothing.

[storyhaunt-a]

" i don't. " there is a strange ... not vulnerability, but honesty to the words, spoken so softly and with such bleeding sincerity that it's hard to believe that they have come from amaris' own mouth. i don't, he says. i don't want power. not when he is still navigating and reigning in his own. the pad of his index finger finishes tracing the very last grapheme, claw-tip briefly scraping and catching on the carved indent of that swirling hook, and — regulus will chew him out if he dares ask for a paper to write on, and despite how difficult amaris knows he can be he knows when he should heed the words of others, and he has no desire to accidentally curse or bind himself by the foolish act of writing down that which perhaps should not be rewritten. not without a deeper understanding of what each rune means, anyhow.

he needs no paper or quill, anyhow. just the steel trap of a mind he has been graced with — he may not be able to remember anything before that nauseating day when he first awoke, but he certainly has forgotten nothing that has come after. he burns the ancient symbols into his skull, and hopes regulus does not notice that snap-second of careful memorization. amaris does not want power, and his curiosity is a blazing sun amidst the sea of darkness that composes whatever it is that he is, but even so, there is an instinct to know. he may never do anything with these runes, may never come to understand their full meaning, and it hardly matters; he, at the very least, has the image of them tucked away. finally, the sorcerer rises to his feet, looking for all the world disappointed.

" we'll revisit the subject, then, " amaris tells regulus, and it is clear that he's trying to be sarcastic, to keep their banter running, and yet there is no denying his sudden dispirited mood. " reckon you think we should leave, too? before one of us starts collecting dusty tombs, full of things we've got no reason knowing about? "

he knows the burn of curiosity. were it a true fire, regulus' body would bear scars from tip to tail, thrice over, for as often as he has pursued his questions. the scars he does bear? ironically, from nothing of the sort. but, although he has been told he doesn't look the part, there is a wisdom in him — enough to know that there is some magic not worth reaching for, some techniques not worth the practicing, and some evils not worth dancing with.

these runes, what he can read of them, spell out power and might. written for the gods? or by them? he doesn't need to know the language to know that the old and faded symbols were written for something larger than them both, and he is not willing to be bound to a will that is not his own.

"—i would rather call it... informing, than warning." though he's not entirely sure he knows the difference. perhaps 'warning' implies that regulus cares, and he's not sure that he does. how can he, on nothing more than a name? but amaris has been a useful travel companion thus far, and he would hate to lose an advantage... "if you want power? by all means. but perhaps later on."