arthur lester from malevolent. written by k. est. march 2026.
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arthur lester from malevolent. written by k. est. march 2026.
information. / sideblog. / prompts. / graphics credit.

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» SACRED AND TERRIBLE AIR. dialogue and action prompts pulled from and inspired by robert kurvitz’s novel, sacred and terrible air, using group ibex's translation. mature themes ahead. change as you see fit, detective.
dialogue.
i hate this country.
it would go against everything i believe in.
who doesn't love the company of monsters?
i don’t care what you think, i want your truth.
you have to work quickly, tie up all the loose ends before it’s too late.
well, you beat him up, didn’t you?
this world of yours in its current form is one hell of a shithole.
it’s only a tool for me. i myself am only a tool.
i was just fifteen then, i was so stupid...
i left a bad impression.
that'd be why you smell like a flower!
i can't hear you, some pig keeps squealing.
we've got to take action, immediately!
i lost her. that's what happened.
it wouldn’t be very chic of me to call three hours earlier than agreed.
i must have caught a little cold.
the things i do want to remember, i don’t remember.
you don't understand, i'm leaving today.
are you sure we're at the right place?
party's over. go home.
you are never alone. you have yourself!
how is he so hardcore?!
where did you get my number?
it's good to know that you're still cool.
this is my crown jewel! this is the apple of my eye!
you always listen to me, don't you.
i could give you some slick answer, but it would be too cruel.
you and your taxis. i'd rather walk.
do you want me to make you some tea?
listen, be a good man, tell me what it is.
i feel like... i don't know how to feel.
everything is still possible for this world.
when i do my job, i don't do it for the rule of law.
the need for closeness is just so deadly.
where do you want to flee from then? countries are enormous.
i sincerely hope there will be a next time.
it's beautiful when you believe in a person.
i put my heart into what i do.
i love the world, every last atom of it.
action. switch sender and receiver’s places as you please.
pale. the sender and receiver stand in a dense fog, the clearest thing in their view being each other.
rideshare. the sender and receiver ride a speedy and rough taxi together.
meet again. the sender and receiver meet again at a formal reunion party.
found. the sender discovers that the receiver keeps forged documents for travel.
meat grinder. the sender catches the receiver as they are on the brink of passing out.
dinner. the sender and receiver eat a meal as they work through documents, the surface a mess of plates and paper.
shoreline. the sender waits to meet up with the receiver at the beach on a grey and windy day.
memories. the sender and receiver find an old trinket that immediately hits them with nostalgia for their shared past.
tune-in. the sender and receiver hear devastating news as it comes on the radio.
rest. the sender crashes and spends a few days in the receiver’s residence.
rain. the sender huddles under the receiver’s umbrella as they walk through a downpour, sharing the space.
corner store. the sender accompanies the receiver as they stop by a corner store to get change.
escape. the sender and receiver anxiously wait for the next train, knowing that people are on their trail.
@killerdame left a message: i can't leave. i tried once. i won't do it again.
the cruelest part of arthur could say something true, which is that leaving is never difficult. he'd know. all it is is leaving, over and over again. but this isn't walking away from a marriage, a death, a life. this is walking away from something that has the chain already around your throat and isn't afraid to pull it tight.
he'd know what it's like, too, to be bound to something more than human. technically he's carrying those chains right now, even if it's no longer pulled tight. it's different to have chosen it the second time around.
and different to run once and get pulled back.
arthur. john's voice is steady, but there's the hum of tension threaded through it, making it sharper at the edges. she means this. she's not saying it desperately. she's saying it like a fact, the face of someone who's said this a thousand times to herself in the mirror. don't treat it flippantly.
what he wants to say but can't: i would've said it like a fact too.
all he can read is her tone, not her face.
"... miss moreno. if i may be a little presumptuous."
be careful.
yes. arthur knows very well. he takes a breath. continues. "it's... i know i may be sitting here before you as a remarkably free man. i promise you that is not entirely the case. i am—bound, in some ways." eyes that do not look sightless but are. an arm and a leg that are not always his. a soul damned over and over again. "and i don't have the ego to think that someone can slip every chain. all i mean is that—i know a good man who would say there's something godly in the effort."
he leans back in his chair. can feel the places where light is streaming between the blinds of his office, throwing strips of slight warmth across the desk.
"i'm not a particularly godly man, mind you. but i'm also not one to argue with a priest's words, at least not on sundays."
a dry smile with the words. with the scarring, arthur can bet it either makes him handsome or a grotesquerie. he's heard both.
[guy suffering through work ills voice] hey behold one of my favorite john/king in yellow designs
also i will have brainpower to write soon. head truly empty lately
[guy suffering through work ills voice] hey behold one of my favorite john/king in yellow designs

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four day weekend save me. save me four day weekend
god i'm so glad part 2 of malevolent is just straight up a noir. i'm having such a great time listening to my guy deliver dime-store noir dialogue and get pulled into a situation with organized crime and some occult stuff sprinkled on top
i'm also getting increasingly convinced that arthur might be able to speak to the dead more generally, which might make dead man's mouthpiece apply to both john being able to see how people died and arthur possibly being able to yap at ghosts. if you die enough times maybe you're just standing on the threshold, so to speak.
becoming semi-important at work (helping teach other people stuff) and being like wow. i hate more meetings. but i do love teaching things
gonna be on here tonight probably following some new folks, reblogging a few ask memes, that kind of thing. truly just vibing
greenteeth.
dialogue prompts from greenteeth by molly o'neill.
i've never been quite sure what it is that i am.
i am not a _____.
what do humans like to talk about?
how could they do this to me?
my whole life has fallen apart in such little time.
you have a _____?
they must all think i'm dead.
my poor ____. you must be so afraid.
how could i not have seen this coming?
do you think i'm in a position to be judging who's evil and who's not?
they care less about facts than about fear.
i've ever liked to be busy.
i thought the devil had come to drag me down to hell.
it doesn't seem that long ago to me.
you would come back here?
it wasn't bad. just different.
it drove me mad at the time, but i miss it now.
i don't blame you for wanting to leave.
i have a plan, but i'm going to need some help.
i was naïve and trusting, but i'm wiser now.
i would appreciate the company.
you are clearly far trickier than i gave you credit for.
you look as tired as i feel.
i'm out of practice at being courageous.
this is my home. i will not abandon it.
i can't leave. i tried once. i won't do it again.
i will help you, if you will let me.
it's not too early if i didn't go to sleep.
no offense, but this isn't exactly the center of civilization.
i don't have any dignity. i'd ask the devil himself for help.
i know it's hard to leave.
appealing to men is really not my area of expertise.
it is good to know i can still be surprised.
please. i want to help.
don't waste your pity on me.
fair weather, and good fortune keep you safe.
my life could use a little danger to keep it fresh.
i wish i didn't have to keep asking for your help.
i thought for sure you'd be killed.
i won't be underestimating you again.
whatever it is, i'm starting to believe we can face it. that we can find a way to win.
i don't think i'm particularly well-suited to the role of knight.
you rescued me. that's who you are.
don't sigh at me like that.
i know you're angry, but don't take it out on _____.
i've been doing fine on my own for ____ years.
i only wish i had more to share.
how long should i wait for you to drown your pride?
i don't do 'nice'.
this is the most interesting thing that's happened to me in years.
i am sure we both have stories to tell.
it was a dream. you're safe. this is real.
let's both forget the past, and try to do better in the future.
do you want company?
i only came up here to check that you were alright.
i thought we trusted each other.
i can't imagine what it must be like to lose a child.
i'm so tired. i don't know what the right thing is anymore.
it's bad luck to look back.
my world will be a darker place without you in it.
you must find a new light. it would sadden me to think of you in the darkness.
i hope you find your peace.
do you really think we have a chance?
there's not much for me to lose, these days.
you value your life so little.
you must promise me to fight. not to throw your life away.
lying is a mortal defect.
i'm not good, but i'm not all the way bad.
a half-rotten apple is a rotten apple.
of course i'm here.
you're not going. i will not lose you.
have you run off again?
why don't you tell me something you've learnt recently?
you're not one to miss a free meal.

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was left unsupervised with a coding thought so now i'm tinkering with some stuff again
@lieability
arkham never changes, not really. not in its bones.
a year gone, torn to the other side of reality, and it's still the same thing when he gets back. wet, crowded, not quite as cosmopolitan as new york, but most of all, haunted. they've spent the same time of day yesterday on stakeout, watching the small townhouse as rain drummed down against the roof of the car—which is to say they've both been on stakeout, as was the deal. not that arthur can see any of it, but that doesn't matter to john, who just seems to want to describe every inch of the street in near-painful detail.
they walked the exterior earlier of the townhouse two days ago. dug through the trash, the unglamorous work of a private investigator at its least clean. one of the cops at the precinct by the office left them the tip. something about public disturbances that no one with a badge wanted to look into. so that left it to those less inclined to legality.
the glass wasn't warped that john could tell. but there was something in the air. like something's clinging on with its teeth, john said, which was more poetic than helpful, but it got the point across. public records showed that the last person to die in 32 west garrison street was one devlin maitland, he died suddenly and brutally, along with his wife. a whole mess with his brother, who had since fled arkham altogether and moved further down the east coast. dead now, too, in a confrontation with police.
a neat answer, in that way, to the question of what spirit would be vengeful enough to stay within this home's walls.
their goal, as per usual, is to see if the ghost can be convinced to peacefully depart this plane.
so they've gotten in through a side window with only some minor negotiation with an old lock, and are now moving slowly around the living room. john's in the midst of describing the photographs on the mantle when something creaks.
arthur, behind you—
they pivot on the spot, the cane in arthur's hand held a little more like someone's going to swing.
in the doorway. someone. not a… spirit, obviously, from the fact we heard anything at all. she must've come in through the back door. short. long dark hair down to her waist. a… severe stare. she's looking right at us, in the eyes. not a police officer, that's for fucking sure.
often times the eyes throw people off. too bright of a yellow, an animal glint there in low light. someone not looking away either says they're very brave, or very nonplussed.
arthur straightens slightly. "… i'd ask why you're here, but as far as i'm aware, there's only one reason anyone's come here over the past ten years." his fingers fold a little tighter on the cane. "who are you? who hired you?"
feeling the coding itch already. i just finished the site and yet....
@lifeforms left a message: i'm glad you're alive. if that's what you want, i mean.
he shouldn't laugh. it's not funny, strictly speaking, although it is in every way that's unexplainable to another human being. if he had the sight for it, he might look down at his gloved hands. the gloves only hide some of the more obviously questionable scars. a missing fingertip, strange bites from something more like a centipede, all of the wounds that he knows more by touch and then brief sight, many months ago now.
if that's what you want. what a qualifier to add on.
for a long while, arthur didn't particularly want that. didn't want much of anything. what he decided he wanted, in the way one decides these things, was quiet and the bottom of a bottle and for no one to look at him, to know him, beyond a glimpse at jack's in the evenings. hard to save a man who's willingly drowning.
so to speak.
arthur doesn't laugh. he exhales a little, smiles almost, lets his fingers fold together in his lap.
she seems very…. genuine about it. john's voice is even. i think she's looking for eye contact. we're giving it, mostly.
mostly, yes.
"what," arthur says after a moment of genuine consideration, "do you think i don't want that?" a pause. "don't… answer that. i know most who enter the dungeon dimensions for any reason must emerge as gibbering fools." those who seek the kindness of death faster than most do. it might be easier that way. arthur is certainly not gibbering, though he may often count as a fool. "i can promise you i'm only mad north-northwest at most, and maybe only for a few days a month."
it's been worse. that's what he means.
gently, he presses his right thumb to the inside of his left wrist, to feel the pulse that he and john share. still steady.
arthur adds, almost wryly, "i mean, if my feelings on it change, i'll be sure to let you know."
having the writing itch real bad tonight so perhaps. a starter call? i will put your little guy on a case with arthur. or have him be interrogatory or some such

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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first ep of malevolent pt. 2 finally dropped and i need everyone to understand what anyone who can listen in on the boys is being subjected to all the time
fyi i have some basic info up here. the home page will likely change at some point but the profile at least is up
i really love burying the lede on the podcast itself in this profile because where do you even start
anyway (spoilers ahead)