#melnchly

[fals3nd]

@melnchly said ; i always believed in you, you know that? (anya for beck!)

oh. beck's hands still from the keys of her laptop and she glances over at anya. there hadn't been any sort of formal discussion about anya staying over. beck's pretty sure she's got a hotel room for the night somewhere else in the city - - - and it's not like beck asked anya not to go. but now that most of her boxes are unpacked and the furniture is set up and built, lingering around the kitchen island over a glass of wine turned into sitting on the new sofa, turned into beck sitting on her laptop while anya sits on the other end. something is playing on the tv, too low to really hear, and beck blinks.

anya's usually not the sentimental type. neither is clyde, really. that was always beck's job - - - the sensitive writer-type, the one who made photo albums and opined over things like red ladles. that thought makes her queasy and she shuffles it away. "you - - - uhm." beck looks at the empty wine glasses on her coffee table in her new trauma-induced-best-selling-memoir-purchased two bed three bath in the upper west side apartment because she can't look at anya. "you should tell the rest of the family that. we can see if it spreads." because she can't answer that with honesty. that would be too - - - mushy.

[wornkindnessa]

amelia & roslin aesthetics  ⋆˚ *❀‧₊˚ @melnchly​

send "🌅" for a moodboard of our muses.​

[staredits]

for @melnchly

[pyrrhk]

"why did you give it to me?" i don't wear it around or anything, but most days the golden pin is on my person in some way. today it's tucked into the pocket of my jacket, my fingers curved around the edge of it but keeping it hidden. it feels like asking for trouble to flaunt it around while i'm here, like president snow can see it somehow all the way in the capitol. "the pin."

it has bothered me for a long while. why would madge give it to me? why me? why it in the first place? she knows the history of mockingjays, must have meant something by pressing it into my hand before i marched off to near-certain death. it's little more than luck that i'm here, and i just - want to know why. the pin isn't necessarily what made me...whatever i am, but it means something. it has to. @melnchly

[30wyn]

@melnchly

her cousin in law and brother are going to drive éowyn to madness. it seems not a day after the wedding has gone by wherein éowyn has not spotted lothíriel and éomer gazing longingly at the each other when they thought no one was able to see. it is a shame for both of them that sister and cousin know their counterparts well enough to see the pining that lingers there. faramir has been sent to try and talk some sense into éomer, as éowyn has tried and failed, while she has decided to try and test the waters with her new relation.

"walk with me?" she offers little options, linking her good arm with with lothíriel's as soon as she has found her. it would be good to remember to try and gentle her more blunt natures about this situation, even if she wishes to be out with it and tell the other woman that éomer is just as enamored with her as she is him ; that would likely scare her away, though, and that is the last thing éowyn wants.

[kcrclrezni]

@melnchly said it's a privateer's life for Zoya

"You're a long way from the Little Palace, lovely," Sturmhond calls down to her, leaning over the side of the Volkvolny. He's been happily enjoying the sun on his face and watching the goings-on in Os Kervo while his crew unloaded the goods they'd smuggled imported from Kerch. He figures he should enjoy the Ravkan summer sun while it lasts. Seemed Djel insisted Fjerdan waters always be stormy. "I'm surprised the Darkling allowed you so far from home. Or is he here too?" The privateer scans the busy street just to make sure there wasn't a brooding man with an affinity for black clothing. "Blue and silver kefta. Does that make you a Squaller?"

[starsallalight]

@melnchly & @amantesmultorum : Kit, Roslin, Ella, & Topher

"Here we are." Kit sighed, closing her door. Standing by the car, he couldn't help but remember the last time he had been here. The memories, good and bad, were still quite sharp.

But already, he could see the blossoming of new beginnings. The flowers and gardens that hadn't been there before, the lawn toys scattered about. The mansion that once felt as cold as an ancient palace was finally starting to warm. It was already so different from when he'd grown up, and for that, Kit was grateful.

"Ready? It'll be ok. They'll love you."

[barrelcrow]

✐ for zoya?

{♠️ x send me ‘✐’ for me to handwrite a note from my muse to yours || Accepting x}

[sumyerki]

" you shared my vision,   did you not? "     /     ACCEPTING   :   ONE LINER STARTER CALL   -   @melnchly FOR ZOYA

[wornkindnessa]

amelia & elain aesthetics   ⋆˚ *❀‧₊˚   @melnchly​

send "🌅" for a moodboard of our muses.​

[pyreshe]

@melnchly - ❛ is it really you? ❜ (from zoya!)

" zoya! " livvy crows with delight, nearly tripping over mattias' legs in her rush to throw her arms around the older girl. it's been over a year since they've seen each other, but if feels like so much longer, like time and space has bent in the spaces of their absences from each other's lives. the girl is taller than she was since the last time they've seen each other- just before that fateful outing that no one could have anticipated druskelle intercepting- her cheeks are gaunt and eyes framed by hollows, but it is unmistakeably her. and she holds onto zoya like a lifeline, settles the side of her cheek against the soft and deep blue of her kefta. " it's me, " she assures softly. there is a joke she wants to make about nina not being that good of a tailor that dies in her throat, " i missed you so much "

[lionessregnant-a]

EMERALD EYES assess eldest child sharply : Myrcella's position at court, like her mother's before her, was to see and, more importantly, be seen. All a girl's worth in this world was in her beauty, and Cersei intended to be sure that her beloved girl was well-armed.

Cersei clicks her tongue in thought, daughter's delicate chin grasped gently between her fingers. ❝ Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same. ❞

@melnchly ( for myrcella )

[tsareviich]

continued from [x] || @melnchly

  the dragon wants to snarl and snap until the talking stops. and while zoya agrees, she isn’t about to - - lucky for him, she loves his brother too much for teeth and claws. but not so much that her eyes don’t flash silver in annoyance, fading back to their true color as she glares. “you’ll be lucky if i don’t make you court jester,” she grumbles, just barely holding back the sharper snap. (she is trying. if only vasily didn’t make it such a challenge.) 

        “nikolai is as likely to style himself royal inventor as he is anything else,” she says. “why don’t you ask him what title he’d prefer?” (and while he’s at it, she can scowl a bit as she examines the fact that she had not disputed the marriage bit, not even once. not even a little.)

he shouldn't find this as much fun as it is, but her response makes him grin. there was something about just pushing zoya's buttons enough but never too much. "court jester? are you saying i'm funny, your highness? i'm flattered." sometimes vasily is surprised zoya hasn't actually kicked him out of the palace yet. probably it's just a favor for nikolai, but he's glad, all the same.

"ah. that's not what i asked, your highness. him being royal inventor doesn't say what his title would be as your husband. i understand you would have been his queen but what would that make him?" vasily makes a note to ask nikolai about it later... if only to annoy him too. "that would also make you my sister," he grins, entirely too pleased with himself. "demon brother and a dragon sister. i like it. it's special."

[kaerinio]

@melnchly approached Her Grace: ❛ you don’t know who i am, do you? ❜ (from Rhaenys?)

Upon silken pillow and ebon bench, the young queen sits, ankles crossed, back straight as a sword. From beneath a three-headed dragon crown ( wrought in jade and ivory and onyx and wrapped in wings of silver and coils of gold ), she peers, amethyst gaze trained on this stranger ; though, if she is just that, why, then, does her presence carry a primordial sense of familiarity ? Of home ? So much more than merely sharing a tongue, Daenerys senses a discerning weight — — — a knowing tenderness — — — in this young woman’s dark eyes. Eyes that miss little, she notes, swimming in their profundity. But, beneath the illumination of lanterns and torches and the setting sun beyond the windows’ glass, they whisper of violet. Silver brows furrow in wonder. The marble playing tricks, she decides, turning this determination over and over again in her mind, as she tosses a probing glance at Ser Barristan ; however, he does not look to her ( what a rare occurrence, for what is the Lord Commander of a Queen’s Queensguard to do but keep watchful eye upon the Queen ? ). Rather, he observes this young woman, his features a twisted amalgam of doubt and anguish and grief and regret : such an unnerving sight only serves to inflame Daenerys’ curiosity — — — and draw a slight frown upon her lips. At her back, Reznak wrings his hands, his grotesquely sweet perfume radiating on the sheen of sweat that glistens upon his bald brow, while Skahaz glowers in his sour way, stewing in suspicion. It is clear that Daenerys cannot hold this silence, nor does she particularly desire to do so. Not with this sensation, this frustration, of phantom recognition that weighs so heavily upon the frontmost part of her mind . . . yet refuses to connect with memory.

Did I know you once ? Before my flight from one Free City or another ? They are certainly of an age ( or close enough ) ; but, every friend Daenerys had ever had during girlhood, whether sheltered in various noble and merchant manses or coddled by cold cobblestone streets, would certainly be recognizable now. Were you there in Astapor ? Yunkai ? A regal air accompanies her : the resoluteness of her tone, the exalted lift of her chin, the unbent posture of her very spine. There is no denying that the gods have crowned her with nobility, but she is no blood of the Good Masters of Astapor or the Wise Masters of Yunkai, nor is she the daughter of some Volantene Triarch ; indeed, her speech sings of Westeros, of Daenerys' countrymen, of her people. Remembrance continues to elude as Daenerys envisions the very few Westerosi she has met across her young life ( including the group now sheltered within her pyramid ). Are you a member of their band, then ? The frog prince had not mentioned any additional companions, and she does not wish to believe that he would withhold knowledge. Thus, she returns to memory once more, crawling from one time to another, willing herself to remember . . . yet this woman’s essence evades her, leaving each recollection empty, echoing, and crumbling from beneath.

“ I do not, ” she finally admits, minding the rhythms of her speech. Something within compels her to lift a hand, beckoning the young lady closer. “ You seem to know me, however, beyond this crown and this seat. I am correct to assume such a thing, am I not ? ”

Could such a person exist ? Someone not lost in the ashes of the past ? It is madness to think such a thing, madness to entertain it, madness to desperately want it. She searches still, head tilting.

“ I cannot seem to untangle where you and I may have met, my lady, nor do my councillors, wise as they are, seem to have any knowledge of you. Perhaps you can aid us all by giving me your name. ” 

[starsallalight]

@melnchly : Kit & Roslin

As he stepped into the old town square, Kit wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, or why he was here. He hadn't been back to his hometown since graduating from high school. There hadn't been much of a point to return. What with his father having succumbed to his illness shortly after, and his uncle destroying the company his father had worked so hard to build. Kit had faced losing damn near everything, and it was only because of his professor and mentor that he hadn't.

Maybe it was the fact that the ten year reunion would be coming up this summer. Maybe it was not wanting to spend another Christmas holiday alone. He couldn't say. All he knew was that he was here now, and he had no idea what to do.

Just as he was about to turn and find a hotel to check into, he heard a voice call out his name from across the street. Looking up, he beamed and flushed all at once. He raced over and held an arm out for a hug, if she wished to accept.

"Roslin. I can't believe you're still here. How have you been? You look great."

[starsspin]

KATIE KATIE KATIE WHERE DO I EVEN START?? i absolutely fell in love with your faramir back in his solo blog days, and ever since i've just trusted that you were gonna knock any character you picked up out of the park (and you know what? i was write). you are genuinely just such a joy to talk to and to write with, and the love you breathe into your characters animates them in the best ways. and don't even get me STARTED on your ocs, i genuinely feel like i've read novels about them, they (and their world) feel so *real* to me.

ANONYMOUSLY TELL ME YOUR HONEST OPINION ABOUT ME. I CAN’T REPLY, JUST PUBLISH.