tyraunt

[tyraunt]

This goes without saying but with how low-activity this blog is (and that I... Only log in to write replies to stuff I already owe), that I only do plotted threads and / or relationships. And even if we don't have anything, (yes you the like 5 people following me) you are always welcome to reach over Tumblr IMs or discord to get something going if you do not mind me being slow :)

[tyraunt]

[tyraunt]

one (1) post per month is the goal on this blog and i'm failing it for every month of the year except for this one 🏃‍♀️

[tyraunt]

"Do you wanna come with me? I was just gonna' get some water .. I could make you a cup of tea! I think I've gotten down the way you prefer it." She smiles, leaning against the door frame, hands laced behind her back. / @aaternum (unprompted, always accepting)

"That is quite a claim coming from you." Kaleb replies, no real daggers hidden within cold words. Maybe it is her way to keep him away from things, he realizes as he puts the quill down. This girl - this woman - always had a way with words. To make the impossible seem possible, to soothe centuries-old wounds.

To be surrounded by hostility, decades of violence... and still smile. At the end of it all, she manages a smile. She shows that smile to him (it burns, it blinds, it tears at his skin - such a welcome and unwelcome respite from the blood), as if nothing is wrong. Ice cold walls seem to melt with nary a touch, it is--

-- it simply is. Kaleb has wondered many times the reason why he allows such a threat to an ancient system to roam free. Every teaching forced into his brain knows the answer to this: the solution is painless (is it?) and quick (is it?), so he should not allow it to spread like a disease. And yet what he does is shake his head, rise from his seat. There is a long silence as Kaleb observes his work, and looks back at Ryu.

Is he growing soft? Will this be used against him? Is this new vulnerability a liability? She has fought for him, bled for him. Endured loss for him. And yet. The more she does, the more he recognizes the necessity for assessing his situation. She will die. She will eventually die, die for him or used against him. "I think a break from my current work is needed." Is she so used to such a mundane task as making him tea that she probably actually memorized it? The thought is... almost comforting. And Kaleb feels like he should not cede in to it, as hard as it is.

"I always find you to be awake awfully late. Did you not have something you wished to do on the morrow?"

[tyraunt]

@tyraunt / crystal + kaleb ft. text posts meme.

BONUS, bc yes:

[tyraunt]

And as the world comes to an end I'll be here to hold your hand 'Cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart

ft. @tyraunt ❤

[tyraunt]

It is weird, to listen to people talk like this. She seems fragile and strong at the same time, and it is impossible for Kaleb not to notice. A ruler does not need humanity. One day perhaps she will understand -- and one day perhaps she will understand the sad and cruel reality of this world. That violence and blood is all that there is, that there is no escape, that it is a continuous cycle, that this is his grave and the thorns have long since pierced his throat---

--- Kaleb does not realize he is gripping the bracelet with so much force that it is a miracle it does not break. That shoulders tense, and he smells fire. Charred corpses, victim of his own destruction. The system that he keeps standing with his own blood and the blood of others.

With her blood, eventually. He allows himself the illusion that it will not happen, sometimes. That she will be spared, that war will not take her from him. That Ryu will be able to live a peaceful, fulfilling life. Kaleb allows himself that delusion. He is gripping at the beads again, it is revolting and it is his and it is his duty to keep that monster of a system alive. It feeds, it never ends.

It will consume her. It will consume him in the end. And it will continue. With his progeny, with another family that is there to replace his. It is like that. Always, like that. Always.

The bracelet snaps at the mention of family. She means well, and a part of his brain knows this. Understands it.

"Any connection to me is pointless and worthless, you know this. All that will cause you is unneeded worry and strife. It will put you in danger. It will see people wanting to slice your throat. My concept of family is ..." A long pause. He collects the broken bracelet and still holds the beads tightly, cherishing them all the same. "Traitors and long periods of nothing. Of loneliness, of darkness. It is admirable and understandable you would want a connection.

I forced you to stay, after all. I forced you to endure all of this. It is... I appreciate the gesture. Family is not something that I can--" He lets go, wooden beads rolling around the table until they stop next to Ryu. "You should take this, give it to somebody who can truly appreciate your feelings.

A person who can understand what a family is, a person who can be allowed to be their own individual. Your connection to me is one forged out of necessity. One that was manipulated into existing, so you could continue living. I have said many times: you are free to leave. I apologize. I apologize for breaking your gift, knowing you spent so long making it." Kaleb gently leaves the rest of the accessory on the table, pushing it gently towards her. "There is a reason the King is not allowed to accept gifts. There is a reason I cannot accept it.

'Family' to you might just mean a completely different thing than what it means to me, Ryu."

tyraunt​:

Her sudden intrusions had become more and more common with time. Kaleb did not react to it at first; and it appears he still does not react. He does not look up from the wall of documents that surround him, nor there is any shift in his expression or voice. This was her being her odd self. 

“Close the door. You are being loud. People usually knock, but I never expect you to follow things that require common sense. After you are done closing the door, sit down.”

And he was being his normal self. There is no annoyance in his tone, it is matter-of-fact. Ryu is loud and lively. So unlike him. So unlike everything he has seen an experienced so far. Maybe that is why he does not mind, or makes an effort to not mind.

Kaleb stops what he is doing once she finishes talking, and takes note of the situation. Of her flustered face, of her confusion. It takes him a while to understand. He blinks once, then twice. For a moment, there is surprise. In this eyes, a vague hint of it… and it disappears as quickly as it appeared.

“I do not usually accept gifts, no. Alistair is right in trying to dissuade you from it. Most that do attempt to flatter me with something do it out of a desire to acquire something in return. Favor. Goodwill. Mercy. Their veiled intent is made clear, and so I refuse them all. 

… But I know you are incapable of doing something to that extent. You are too easy to read, too obvious. Too honest.

Why would you give me something like this? More importantly, what is the purpose of wearing a matching one yourself?”

Never had he said that he would be opposed to it, mind you. But the gesture is new and intriguing. Enough for him to want to know the purpose of it.    

An act of kindness shadowed by ulterior motives sounds an awfully sad reality, but she reasons with the earlier advice. At the very least the assumption wasn’t personal fault, but a truth tethered to his position. The King leads a life where personal gain is a political stance– it’s so detached, unfair really. It’s clear she wants to make a comment on the matter, mouth twisting itself for the words right at her tongue. But her gift isn’t for the King, but the man hidden within the status. She doesn’t forget who he is–hard to, but she can treat him with a shred of humanity. So instead of giving in to the obvious temptation to remind him in some way the position seems lonely, she diverts, “Well, that makes sense. But you’re right – I mean, I resent the too easy to read part– but I’m definitely not trying to get over on ya’.” She laughs, pointer tapping absently against her chin.

“Well .. it means something to me, I guess. I mean, you mean something to me. So it’s sort of a way to show I care. I know I can always voice that, but think of it as a personal reminder always available.” She pulls back her sleeve, a similarly ornamented bracelet resting over her wrist. For a moment, she reflects back on where the sentiment originated – crafting something to convey thoughtfulness. It probably started with her mother, but as the years go by she finds herself losing the details. Now it’s just a feeling that resonates within her. “The purpose is .. connection. Not in some .. subservient way.” She hums, trying to gather a better explanation. “I like to live with absolutes and reminders of the people close to me. Like family. I’m no royalty or anything and we don’t share the same bloodline. But I feel connected to you. And this is just a way to show that.” She nods slowly to herself, a warm smile lifting her features, “Yeah, that’s what it is. Like a family. A kinda strange family without all the hierarchy buisness.”

[tyraunt]

https://pin.it/7ITguzb

[tyraunt]

so he isn't mad she wasn't around

"I already told you I was not annoyed. And I am not someone who would lie to you for no reason. But if you disappear suddenly, of course I am going to worry. Not about you - you know very well how to defend yourself.

I am going to worry about what in the blazes you are doing while absent." This also classifies as worrying about her. Kaleb is clearly ignoring it. He taps his fingers against wooden desk, thinking of how he wants to word this. "Things are just not safe with you around. For their own sake, they should at least know how to behave."

[tyraunt]

Carol Ann Duffy, from The World’s Wife; “Thetis”

[Text ID: “I shrank myself / to the size of a bird in the hand / of a man. / Sweet, sweet, was the small song / that I sang, / till I felt the squeeze of his fist.”]

[tyraunt]

Hey you ily but why don't you tell us about some of the small, significant things that he loves? Little personal things that very few would know of?

(Sorry for slow buy I know how you've wanted to write over here on this guy, and I am interested to see what you gotta say on this-- take this as something to stir the pot)

Hi I also love u more than anything I'm smooching ur face. And to answer your question. Hm... It's hard to write about 'what he likes to do', because what he 'likes' and 'is allowed to do' are completely different things. But he used to paint when he was younger. This - along any other hobbies that were deemed as not 'directly beneficial to his position' - stopped a few years into his rise to power. A fun fact is that he is unable to paint self portraits. Always have. Every time he does it, he simply ruins his face until its an unrecognizable mess. I guess you can figure out a lot about his idea of 'himself' or personhood. But don't worry about it. A lot of these old portraits are locked in a room, alongside old instruments that he too does not play anymore.

[tyraunt]

by moguparfait @ twitter

[tyraunt]

Repost don’t reblog. Write what you associate with your muse(s) and then tag others. 

ANIMAL: Ravens. Can actually be seen on his family’s coat-of-arms. Associated with the battlefield and following on the idea that the Blackwood family has always been involved with the military (and back then, used to be only associated with it).    

COLOR(S): White and red. Blood spilled on once pristine snow. The corruption of something once pristine, something you can never erase or wash off your hands.   

MONTH: Picking August for no reason in particular simply because this is such an arbitrary question that I never really thought about 😩 Might come back and change this later. Probably. 

SONG: weapon of choice (angelspit) / iter impius (pain of salvation) / the gardener (the dresden dolls)     

NUMBER: 2.  Never quite good enough, never quite there. Never really being who you need to be. 

DAY OR NIGHT: Night. Pitch black and silent. The calm before the storm.

PLANT(s): Red roses, magically enhanced so they will not wilt. A gift from a long time ago that you cannot let go of. 

SMELL:  Metallic, like blood. Dissipates into the smell of old wood, bringing to mind antiques. Something out of place, lost to time. An old sword resting atop of an equally old wooden table. You can still pick out the red stains if you focus hard enough. 

GEMSTONE: Ruby. You do not remember who looked at your eyes and praised them. 

SEASON: Winter. A frozen corpse, yet the slow heartbeat betrays some sign of life. The stubborn endurance of men. Unbending, yet you have unknowingly been molded into a preferred shape by someone.  

PLACE: The garden. Flowers engineered to survive against the everlasting winter. Dots of color in white. The solitude of watching life in the early mornings.    

FOOD: He has no strong preference towards anything, but if I had to pick it would something light, a late-night snack that fills you or a small breakfast. Something that keeps you going but it is not enough to sate you for long. The constant yearning for more.    

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Virgo.

ELEMENT(S): Fire / Water (ice specifically) (also the absence of any element is a thing with him. not ‘no element’ but the void itself)

DRINK: While he can usually be seen drinking black tea, he has a preference for herbal teas. Has a strong preference for soothing floral flavors. 

Tagged by: @hexenjagd​ <3

Tagging: @aaternum​ and you, probably, 

[tyraunt]

Velázquez, 1623 / Anonymous, c. 1630 / Velázquez, 1631 / Velázquez, 1644 / Carreño de Miranda, c. 1645 / Anonymous, c. 1660

[tyraunt]

Daniel Lavery & Cecilia Corrigan, From the Makers of “Two-Mom Energy Drink,” It’s “Let Your Father Die Energy Drink”

[tyraunt]

@duskyverdict​​ 

Months stretch by with no end to the cold, the one constant of these lands. Perhaps a reflection of the people who for centuries have taken control of what was left behind by history. An empty throne to be filled by swords, conquered by blood and screams. The breaking of bones, the screams of a young boy turned into a man too quickly. 

It ceases, as the blood congeals and the heart stops. What is left is the picture of perfection, the frigid wastes himself. And yet it is not enough, not enough to satisfy those who pull the strings behind the curtains. What he is left with is simply the ruins of his own making. 

Winter does not change, Kaleb has been forced to acknowledge. His younger self would have desperately attempted to disagree, unaware of the consequences of refusal. His younger self would soon come to learn by fire and blood, by the bleeding of his own people. And yet that was never enough. The horrors of a child, the delicate trapeze act of becoming a concept instead of your self. 

Years later he stands tall enough to instill fear through hushed whispers of his name. A monster who spares no one, who razes down villages for even daring to think about insurrection. A man so desperate for control he insists on doing everything himself, too stubborn to trust anyone who could simply desire his head.

It is why there is no remorse in destroying that which does not belong - trampling beautiful flowers under his heel. The mage is an aberration, but one he decided to put to good use. Ever since he accepted the presence of the intruder in his home, the castle and its surroundings have changed considerably. Like weeds taking over any patch of soil it can find, flowers blossom impossibly in the snow.

“It has been long enough, beast.” He does not call Merlin by his name. Doing so acknowledges him as a person - which he is not. Differently from the man with a crown sewn into his head. They are not the same, and they will never be. Kaleb simply detests the idea of being seen as a source of amusement. This aberration seems dead set on viewing his stay as simply a game. The flower with charming blue petals last a moment longer before it is crushed like the others; carelessly and heartlessly. “And yet you seem incapable - or unwilling - to prove yourself worthy of anything but an animal that pretends to be caged. Is this the extent of your worth, then? I clearly recall agreeing to your abhorrent stay as long as you followed simple demands. I trust that you are at least capable of that.”  

[tyraunt]

by lugh_g @ twitter