#dera : musings

[queenharumiura]

Continued from: [x] || @thehandworld

Being in a familiar and yet unfamiliar world, it was hard for Haru to ever really get any restful sleep. She constantly worried about how worried her parents were that she’s been missing for this long. She worried about how she’d acclimate to this world when she didn’t really have an identity here. She could never replace the Haru of this world- just like he couldn’t take over her place in her original world.

It didn’t take much to wake her up as of recent with how on edge she was. She woke up when it sounded like Haruka had returned and she moved to greet her. The older woman was also on edge, understandably so if you took one look at her injuries. It was heartbreaking to see the woman in this state, and alone. Sure, the Gokudera she knew probably was similar- returning home secretly to tend to his injuries��� but he was the same age as the rest.

They would’ve noticed his injuries sooner than later, and they would’ve fussed over him. What about Haruka? She was alone, and she had to stand tall for the sake of the younger guys. She was taking on the role as a protector and teacher for them, and that probably made some kind of a barrier where she would rather take on the troubles by herself and not let others know of the sacrifices she was making.

As irony would have it, Haru was the one who was witnessing these things because she wasn’t a part of this world in truth. Maybe that was the only reason- because she wasn’t going to be staying here forever… or so she hoped. The woman went to the bathroom to wash up and Haru sat outside the bathroom with a warm cup of tea in hand. She would wait until Haruka came out to hand the cup to her. She’d also insist on making sure that Haruka had tended to her wounds.

[whiskeysmulti]

Yandera to Tsuna: I love you but... Im gonna drag you to the end of the world, tie you down, lock you up, and make you fully and completely mine. I will consume you and in the end all you will be is mine.

Have Your Muse finish the saying, “I love you, but....”- no longer accepting!

Locked up, tied down and completely belonging to one man and one man only sounded like ultimate loyalty which didn't sound too bad to Tsuna. Shouldn't he be loved so much that he would only be with one man for the rest of his life?

"I don't see what's wrong with it if it's done out of love, right?"

[thehandworld]

[fightingthetides]

Gokudera is the type who would give gifts with meaning, be it related to the person's like or to something that he relates to the person. But Yamamoto was really an interesting case, he had no clue what to give the guy, sure there were safe bets but, none of it really sounded appealing to him.

Instead he pulled the Rain Guardian to the side, there is something that would probably be more valuable to them, than anything material. Looking at the night sky as he finds the words. I call you baseball freak, idiot, stupid... And I know that during the years you accepted it as banter or teasing.

But the truth is... Yamamoto, you are so intelligent, so reliable. I don't think that I noted it during the years we grew up. I admire you, I respect you. And I'm really happy in be your friend. I wouldn't know how to deal with losing your friendship or you in general. And I can't wait to see how you grow up from now own. He smiles as he hugs him, sincere words, it was probably the worst of gifts, but he hoped that Yamamooto would understand the value of this.

[Xmas Stuff] || @thehandworld

Yamamoto wasn’t sure what to expect at first. It was pretty rare for Gokudera to pull him aside for anything that wasn’t involving yelling at him for something or briefing him on something Vongola related. The first few words out of Gokudera’s mouth had him thinking it was the first option: getting yelled at. However… as he kept listening, he realized that it didn’t seem right. There was more to this talk.

Gokudera was actually being sincere with him now, opening up to him a little bit. It was very rare for Gokudera to open up to anyone whose first name wasn’t Tsunayoshi, so he understood how big a deal this was.

The hug especially caught him off guard, but it wasn’t anything off-putting for Yamamoto. Skinship was something he was very familiar with as a sportsman. Hugging or smacking eachother on the backs was common place, after all. “Thanks, Dera, I really appreciate that.” He returned the hug with one of his own, grinning from ear to ear.

He wasn’t sure what brought this on, but he was happy! He pulled away from the hug, “Wait, you aren’t dying or anything are you? Did all that smoking catch up to your lungs?” Is that why Gokudera was being so sincere?

You only got yourself to blame, Gokudera. Believing that you’re being nice to him because your ill seems more plausible than you simply wanting to be nice for once.

[cherrylng]

※Strolling around Kiyomizu-dera Temple. Mingling with the tourists who had gathered for the autumn leaves, they enjoyed sightseeing while eating soft ice cream and crepes.

Matt Bellamy and Tom Kirk in Kyoto, Japan - Muse [INROCK (January 2002)]

Photographer: Horita Yoshika

[ciaossu-imagines]

Day 1, promot 1, nr 3 with me boy Dera

Honestly i know its supposed to be smutty and all but the thought of dera coming home to his s/o and he is drenched in blood and they help him shower bc he is just focking exhausted is a form of intimacy and sexual that doesnt even need anything more tbh.

The inherent eroticism of washing blood off of someone.

I totally agree with you and it’s such a compelling and evocative prompt this way! Thank you so much for sending this in and I hope you’ll enjoy the drabble. Where it never actually gets into smut territory, instead going heavily instead into angst territory, I’m going to leave this without a cut.

3) our muses take a shower together to wash blood off each other

The grandfather clock in the corner of the room echoed a little within the stillness of the room. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock…boing! It announced the hour loudly, startling you out of your mostly asleep state you’d been in, curled up on the couch with a well-loved and oft-read paperback in your hand that now fell onto the floor. Cursing under your breath, a wry smile on your face at the thought of how silly you must have seemed, almost jumping out of your skin over a couple of loud sounds, you readjusted yourself on the couch, leaning down to pick up the book. You turned your face to look at the clock as you tossed the book onto the coffee table, your lips pursing a little as you noticed the time. Midnight already? Gokudera was a lot later than he thought he would be. When he’d messaged you earlier, he’d figured he’d be home by ten, ten-thirty at the latest.

Looking around, you spotted your phone where you must have tossed it earlier, over on the television stand. With a sigh at the thought of having to stand, you stretched out your body, hearing a couple creaks and pops from the way it had stiffened in the awkward position you’d dozed off in, and reluctantly got to your feet, heading over to grab your phone. Maybe you’d missed a text, caught up in reading or nodded off. While Hayato was a sucky texter, it was unlike him to not send at least a word or two to let you know he’d be late or was held up overnight, especially since you’d explained to him countless times that it made you feel a lot safer and less worried about him. Clicking over to his messages, you found nothing, just the last text telling you when he expected to be back. Your brow furrowed as you stared at the screen. Your fingers itched to switch over to the call screen, to hear his voice and know he was okay. Yet you kept hesitating, unable to press the button.

When you and Hayato had first gotten together, you’d fallen hard and fast. You’d wanted to be texting him all throughout the day. You’d wanted to spend as much time together as possible, had wanted the long phone calls. To you, it had only been natural, but to Gokudera, it had been stifling – you were clingy, too much, and the arguments had been brutal. Once or twice in the early days, the two of you had broken up, only to find yourselves back together. The arguments had continued, going on and on. While you’d worked on not being so clingy, Hayato had a bad habit of getting engrossed in something, some thing he was researching, working on, learning about, or in business with the Family, and completely losing track of time. He’d skip out on dates, only to apologize profusely afterwards when he realized, or he’d just not show up at night, staying all night in his office. Your anxieties had gotten the better of you and you’d started to obsess over the possibilities that he was getting into someone else, not something else. The arguments had started up in earnest again…through it all though, the two of you had always stayed together. You’d learned to trust him a bit more, to be more secure in both yourself and your relationship with him. He’d started being more mindful about things like texting you, about giving you the heads up when he’d be home, to be more considerate of you.

But you were both human. You slipped occasionally, and so did he. You figured this just must be one of those times. Maybe he’d gone to grab a late-night meal with one of the others, maybe he’d gotten caught up in paperwork or in reading one of his many collection of textbooks. Maybe he’d been training and gotten so into the groove of it all that he hadn’t realized it was now creeping into the early morning. There were so many possibilities. Him being late didn’t necessarily have to mean anything bad.

You kept reassuring yourself of that fact as you let the screen of the phone darken, putting it back down on the television screen. You stretched out your legs, walking around the apartment. You got changed into your pyjamas, brushed your teeth, did your skincare routine. You refilled the water and food in the cat’s dishes, anything, everything to keep yourself busy. Through it all though, you just couldn’t stop yourself from looking at any clock around you, counting the minutes that ticked by, keeping an ear out for the sound of your phone’s text notifications. Once you’d exhausted everything you could think of to occupy your time, you sighed, wandering back out to the living room. You knew that, until you heard from him, you wouldn’t be able to sleep that evening. Your eyes went back to the book on the coffee table. Maybe that would be the distraction you needed…that, and some coffee.

You padded into the kitchen. Your eyes went again to the digital clock on the oven before you shook your head. No, none of that. You busied yourself with making a little snack plate before you headed to the coffee maker. Turning on the facet, you let the water run for a minute, zoning out to the sound of the running water splashing against the bottom of the sink, before you filled the coffee pot with water. You leaned against the countertop, letting your mind wander as the coffee percolated, watching it drip down and fill up the pot. You were just taking down your cup, hand reaching to grab the coffee pot when you heard the sound of a door opening. Your eyes widened and you were so eager to put your mind to rest that you were almost running out of the kitchen towards the small entryway off the living room, coffee pot still in hand.

Moments later, the coffee pot was falling from your hand, breaking against the floor. You barely felt the hot liquid against your feet because it was only there for the briefest of moments as you dashed forward. How could you not? The sight in front of you, Gokudera leaning against the door as he closed it behind him, his suit jacket falling to the floor. But all you could seem to see was the great big swatches of still damp blood soaking his white button-down red, smeared along his face, tainting his silvery locks, spotted here and there on his dark trousers. You were barely aware of how frantic your expression was, how fumbling your hands were as they touched his shoulders, his chest, his neck, trying to turn his face towards you. Your brain seemed to be almost entirely white noise, focused on that crimson colour, on his turned in posture and how Hayato’s head hung down, his eyes refusing to meet yours, almost unfocused as he stared at the floor.

His large hands came up to catch yours, almost cup them as he pushed them away from him.

“Don’t worry. None of it’s mine,” his voice seemed to wake you up a bit, to shake some of that white noise out of your head. You could feel the panic surging inside of you, threatening to drown you.  

“Don’t worry?! Are you insane? You’re covered in blood, of course I’m going to worry! What the hell is going on, Hayato?” Your voice was high-pitched, almost bordering on panicky but you couldn’t seem to help it. Your hands reached out again, touching his shoulder as you made to step closer to him, to get a better look at him. Again, he reached up, his movements gentle but firm, removing your hand and taking a step away from you, keeping his distance from you.

“It’s fine…I’m fine. I just…wanna go to bed.”

Your panic was almost choking you. It was a palpable feeling, both seeming as if it lived inside you, a writhing, heavy creature inhabiting your skin and trying to burst free, and as if it was an actual heavy weight outside of you, dropped onto your shoulders and chest. Yet, even with all that panic, something in your mind clicked. It was in the way he was leaning into himself, his posture withdrawn, almost skittish. In the moment, in the way he moved and how he avoided you, it was like Hayato was suddenly some wounded, scared animal. It was in how he wouldn’t raise his head, as if it suddenly weighed a ton, in how he wouldn’t look at you. In the few glances you’d managed, his normally emotion-filled eyes were glossy, almost dead, his face seeming to belong to someone far older than him. It was in his voice, in that dreadful calm, monotonous, robotic tone. It was all those things that made it so that, despite all your own panic, all your own fear and worry, you were able to stuff all those things down for the moment. You knew you’d have to feel later on, you’d have to properly deal with everything at later, but for now – for now, you had to take care of Hayato, you had to get him back somewhat to his normal.

“No. There’s no way in hell you’re getting into our bed looking like that.”

“I’ll take off the clothes, don’t worry,” Hayato said, walking slowly away from you. Your feet were quick and within a couple of large steps, you’d caught up to him, grabbing him by the arm and not allowing him to shake you off this time.

“Even without the clothes, you’re not getting into the bed like that. You need a shower, come on. I’ll take one with you and after that, I can spot treat your clothes, get them into the washer before we go to sleep.”

“Don’t waste your time. Just throw them out…” Gokudera’s voice seemed to falter then, his tongue tripping over ‘uhh’s’ and ‘hmm’s’ as if he was processing a difficult thought. “Actually, just burn them.”

Hayato was always one to argue with you, to bicker and throw comments about you bossing him around while still going along with whatever was happening. It could be tiring at times, but mostly it was, in its own way, charming and very comforting and comfortable for you. His complete lack of protest at your words, the way he just let you grab his hand, leading him to the bathroom, combined with his words was making your mind race, going through all the horrific possibilities. Just what had he been through tonight?

Entering the bathroom, you let go of his hand, turning to face him. Despite all your efforts, you still couldn’t make him meet your eyes. With a sigh, you lowered your own gaze, focusing on his shirt. Your fingers reached up, starting to slip buttons through fabric. The job was harder than you’d thought, the half-dried blood making the fabric crunchy, making the buttons not want to slip through as they should and you struggled a little. Eventually, you’d finally gotten most of them undone. As you pushed the fabric off his body, checking for any evidence of wounds that he might have been hiding from you and feeling relieved at the lack of any, you hurt as you noticed how his body almost recoiled away from your touch, his muscles and flesh flinching away from even the slightest trail of your fingernails. You didn’t let that stop you though, moving on to unbuckle his belt (another arduous task, given his love of big, flashy belt buckles that were never easy to undo) and strip off his pants. While normally you’d be staring at his naked body, admiring it, all your brain could focus on was even the barest hint of a bruise or a scratch.

Even as he seemed to be resistant to your touch, Gokudera never once stopped you. Instead, he just stood there, like a doll, as you’d undressed him. The silence in the room was almost deafening and you welcomed the sound of running water as you moved away from him, turning on the shower and getting the water to just the right temperature. You stripped yourself quickly, not making any sort of production out of it.

“Come on, in you get,” you said, keeping your tone low, quiet and gentle as you steered him into the shower with you. For a minute, you just let the water run over the two of you, making sure he was largely centered under the showerhead. You watched as the water running off him turned red, the floor of the shower almost artistic in the swirls and whirls of red mixed in with the clear water before it went down the drain. It was a little hypnotizing, but you pulled your eyes away, feeling morbid and wrong for your brief thought.

Gokudera followed your soft orders, meeting you halfway to allow you to slick some of your favourite, lavender scented shampoo onto his hair, lathering it up. Your fingers massaged his scalp, rubbing little circles, never applying too much force, but feeling better at how he didn’t flinch so much away from that as you rinsed his hair. Even better than that feeling was seeing his hair, gray with wetness, completely back to normal, without any indication that it had ever been bloodied that night.

Your hands went next to grab a loofah hanging on a hook in the shower. Lathering it up with his body wash, you started your work. You scrubbed every inch of his body, from his face all the way down to his toes. You lifted his arms for him, leaned your head against his back as you scrubbed his sides and torso. You noticed, as you did so, that Gokudera’s eyes were now shut tightly, squinched down hard, and his chest was rising and falling quicker than it normally did. As you rinsed him under the water, you started leaving kisses – along his shoulder blades, down his arms, on his fingers, down the length of his back. You just needed him to know that you were there, that he was okay and safe here with you.

It took you by surprise, as you had turned your back on him to hang the loofah back up, to feel a pair of strong arms suddenly encircling your waist, squeezing you so tight, pressing you back against him. You could feel his forehead resting against the top of your head, could feel his hot breath against your damp neck. You allowed him to just stay like that for god knew how long. His breathing was labored, halting, and his voice when it came out was shaky. You felt the harsh inhale, the hard burst of exhale ghosting across your skin as his words came.

“She’s dead….Bianchi…my sister is dead.”

[alekseii]

extra, extra!

plots quentinhos e quase-recém-saídos do forno! como fazer? apenas me sinalize no chat qual teria interesse e vamos para acertar os detalhes! baseados em músicas de AM.

the bad thing

do the bad thing, take off your wedding ring. but it won't make it that much easier, it might make it worse.

esse é um plot onde aleksei acabou cedendo ao seus pensamentos intrusivos e se dedicou a fazer de MUSE alguém infiel. não era exatamente seu plano, como algo elaborado e arquitetado, mas algo fruto de uma ideia maligna dentre uma saída entre dois amigos. sabia que o relacionamento de MUSE estava indo por água abaixo, então não havia nenhum mal naquilo, sim? só não sabemos exatamente como esses dois ficaram após esse encontro.

why’d you only call me when you’re high?

you said you gotta be up in the mornin', gonna have an early night… and you're startin' to bore me, baby, why'd you only call me when you're high?

o russo bebe regularmente, fuma bastante, e muitas vezes não apenas cigarros. então é normal que tenha ciclos de amigos que cultivam dos mesmos hábitos… exceto que @zmarylou não se qualificava exatamente como uma amizade. tinham sido, até agora, encontros estranhos enquanto ele estava embriagado, um padrão que caia na percepção de aleksei.

fireside + standing next to me

and I thought I was yours, or maybe I was mistaken… but I just cannot manage to make it through the day without thinking of you lately

três anos atrás, aleksei partiu do acampamento em busca de responder uma carta que havia recebido. saíra ainda de madrugada, não muito mais que três da manhã, e deixara em sua cama MUSE, sem explicações, nada, apenas largara o relacionamento que tiveram e desaparecera. mesmo poucos meses atrás, quando regressara ao acampamento por um curto período de tempo (não mais que alguns dias), não fora atrás de MUSE para se explicar. é claro que existe um grande elefante no quarto quando eles se encontram, e é claro que mesmo com suas atitudes, lis nunca saiu exatamente do pensamento do russo.

hello you

hello you, still dragging out a long goodbye? i ought to apologize for one of the last times

uma das poucas amizades que tinha no acampamento e aleksei dera um jeito de brigarem poucos dias antes de sumir por três anos. não se desculpara, mesmo estando errado, se recusando a dar o braço a torcer diante daquilo que considerava uma grande traição. mas parece que o tempo funcionou de alguma coisa e ele acabou reaparecendo, tentando refazer os laços que um dia tiveram.

love is a laserquest

when i'm pipe and slippers and rocking chair singing dreadful songs about summer, will i have found a better method of pretending you were just some lover?

MUSE e o filho de nyx foram amigos de muitos anos, desde crianças. eram aqueles esquisitões que de alguma maneira tinham se encontrado, e agora faziam praticamente tudo juntos. os anos foram passando, e algo que era inicialmente uma amizade foi evoluindo sem que nunca eles tivessem a coragem de falar sobre. duas pessoas machucadas, receosas de perder um bom vínculo estabelecido, que levaram tudo em silêncio até o fatídico dia em que se beijaram. o desejo contido não deixou que as coisas parassem por aí, e no dia seguinte… bem, não tiveram coragem de se falar. nunca mais, para ser mais exato.

505

but i crumble completely when you cry, it seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye

não existe nada que ele não faria por MUSE. e é perigoso isso, não? logo para alguém que viu de perto o que aconteceu com seu pai. a tentativa de conquistar o perdão pelos erros do passado, de remendar uma possível relação com alguém que passara anos fugindo. como se o motivo que o tivesse mantido tão longe fosse agora o que atraia tanto para o garoto. uma tentativa de provar que não possui apenas aquele seu pior lado? e existe uma vantagem em ser a única pessoa que sabe exatamente quem ele é. é por isso que ele ainda o adoraria…

the ultracheese

i suppose we aren’t really friends anymore… maybe i shouldn’t ever recall that thing friendly at all

aqui é um plot de inimizade, que veio de lá da adolescência/infância. MUSE e alek eram grandes amigos, até não serem mais. pontos se for uma filha de circe. o fato é que a briga foi feia, parece até que MUSE atacou o filho de nyx. penalidades aplicadas, ordens expressas de que não fossem vistos andando juntos novamente. e tudo aquilo que tinham se dissolvera, esquecido através dos anos com as provocações… embora alek ainda tenha fotos deles guardadas em algumas caixas antigas.

knee socks

well, you cured my january blues, yeah, you made it all alright

aquele típico plot de encontros casuais, que ficaram bem interessantes. como se mantivessem uma vida paralela, brigando na luz do dia, fazendo coisas um pouco mais interessantes pela noite. escondidos, como se dividissem um segredo. sem a noção do motivo exato pelo qual esconderiam aquilo. @kretina

[wandermuses]

BASIC.

FULL NAME: sebastian clarke.  NICKNAME(S): bash. AGE: twenty two.   DATE OF BIRTH: december 11th.  GENDER: cis man.  PRONOUNS:  he/him. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual.   ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: heteroromantic. OCCUPATION: college student; computer engineering major. competitive swimmer. 

PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS: ambitious, disciplined, practical, reliable.  NEGATIVE TRAITS: dependent, harsh, possessive. LIKES: swimming, being on top (haha).  DISLIKES: pressure, gossip.  FEARS: not feeling fulfilled within his relationship and his career. ASTROLOGY: sagittarius. PERSONALITY TYPE: infj.   MORAL ALIGNMENT: neutral good.

deep end: depois que sua namorada terminou o relacionamento por conta dos seus interesses peculiares, sebastian descobre que muse também compartilha da preferência... e o que era apenas uma paixonite patética de calouro, torna-se uma interessante descoberta. inspirada no livro deep end de ali hazelwood, trata-se de dois personagens com interesse em relações dom/sub que nunca tiveram parceiros que os compreendessem. a ex-namorada de sebastian sabe que muse gosta de ser submissa e acaba ligando os dois; chaos ensues.

nascido em manchester, sebastian cresceu com a companhia de três irmãos mais velhos. seus pais, divorciados, nunca interagiam muito; sua mãe estava constantemente viajando pela europa à trabalho, e seu pai se desdobrava para pagar as contas ao passo que garantia que derek e liam, os filhos do meio, não estava quebrando a casa inteira. bash era tratado como aquele que nunca causava problemas, o que sempre se virava sozinho, aquele que o pai não precisava se preocupar.

visto que nunca havia tido um quarto para si só desde que nascera, fora uma grandíssima sensação de liberdade adquirir uma quarto no dormitório da faculdade que comportasse apenas a sua cama... por mais que a bagunça que seus companheiros de apartamento criavam fosse um pesadelo.

sua escolha de universidade fora altamente influenciada pela sua primeira namorada, por mais que seus irmãos houvessem o aconselhado a não confidenciar esse fato à ninguém. you look like you're her toy, mate. oh, mas quem dera. daisy gostava de seu relacionamento mais baunilha do que um sundae sem calda, e sebastian, como o "filho independente que não precisa de atenção", estava apegado demais ao seu primeiro namoro para abrir mão dela por conta de seus desejos sexuais.

e ele continuaria completamente dedicado ao namoro, se não fosse a súbita decisão de daisy em "viver experiências diferentes"; como a via como sua amiga em primeiro lugar, bash não criou mais resistência do que reforçar mais uma única vez que seu interesse em dominância na cama não era maior do que seu amor por ela. bem, esse amor, de uma certa distância, parecia mais fraternal do que qualquer outra coisa... mas sebastian era leal, acima de tudo.

mesmo quando... bem, alguém o chama a atenção, sebastian não costumava virar o pescoço para admirar. mas agora que está solteiro, era extremamente tentador reservar sua atenção para uma ruiva em específico.

[valentinahogdahlholm]

Apollo

I will never be a young blond god, Zeus blood under shining skin. Lightning through body, collected in fingertips. And the sky falls on command, Beautiful scene to the notes of laughter rining in deep notes through your chest.

Lyre tuned after them, godly music dancing after fingers.

And I am the muse of drama which played the scenes your hand directs, Singing a choire to your song

Halocrowned, white as marble, every bloodstain as a scream.

Skin and hair captures your golden shine and reflecting in silver.

Every one of the sun's word imprinted in my being, every microscipic tiwtch and shaking of fingers. Waiting for a golden kiss.

Makes the chicken-skin light up the night. Worshipped like the saint of luck, gone in the morning light. Falling between Apollo's golden lips.

Their first notes an enchantment while I fade, Faded, Apollos invisible shadow.

//

Jag kommer aldrig vara en ung blond gud, Zeus blod under skinande hud. Blixten genom kroppen, ansamlas ut i fingertopparna. Och himelenen rämnar på kommando, Vacker scen tonsatt till skrattet som klingar ur ditt bröst i djupa toner. 

Lyran stämd efter dem, gudomlig musik dansar efter fingrarna. 

Och jag är dramatikens musa som spelar de scener din hand regisserar, Sjunger på gehör i kör till din sång, Tonsätter blixten och åskans pjäs, jakt efter varandra över natthimmelen. Gloriakrönt, vit som marmor, varje blodfläck för sig känd genom ett gällt sri. 

Huden och håret fångar ditt gyllene sken och reflekterar det i silver. 

Vartenda av solens ord ristat i min varelse varenda mikroskopiska ryck och skakning i fingrarna. 

Väntades på en gyllene kyss, 

Får den knoittriga ytan att skina i natten. Dyrkad som ett turens helgon, försvunnet när morgonen gryr. Faller mellan Apollos gyllene läppar

Deras första troner en förtrollning medan jag bleks mot dess ljusa toner. Suddad, Apollos osynliga skugga. 

[ivydongbang]

˛ : 𝐈𝐕𝐘‚ ⁰⁰

você viu DONGBANG SEUNGHEE? ouvi dizer que ela tem 21 ANOS e faz parte do GRUPO POLARIS como LEAD DANCER & SUB VOCAL. achei ela muito parecida com LEE CHAERYEONG, mas foi só impressão mesmo.

HEADCANONS,

— Desde o momento em que deu seu primeiro respiro fora do corpo de sua mãe, Seunghee vê o mundo dividir-se em duplas, pares. Quando se é gêmea univitelina, há um limite de singularidade que pode existir em sua vida. No início, pouco reclamava disso, adorava ter uma mão igual a sua entrelaçando os dedos sempre que precisavam de um pouquinho de coragem, como, por exemplo, naquela vez em que enfrentaram juntas a jaula do leão no zoológico em que visitaram com os pais. 

— Entretanto, conforme cresciam, o sentimento de frustração passou a se fazer existente e avassalador. Sendo constantemente comparada com a irmã, não demorou para que sua personalidade mais tímida e aquietada fizesse diferença, ouvindo de familiares e professores sobre como ela poderia aprender com a gêmea a ser mais aberta, mais divertida, mais alegre, mais espontânea, mais, mais mais e mais…

— Sua frustração era gritante, principalmente quando, após muito tempo de maturação e questionamentos, decidiu que queria ser uma idol, estar por dentro das trends. Talento tinha, principalmente na dança, sendo esguia, ágil e extremamente detalhista, um nível de perfeccionismo pouco saudável; lhe faltava carisma. Sempre lhe faltava carisma. Falava pouco, expressava pouco. Quem lhe dera ser como sua gêmea… Mesmo porque, ela não demorou a ingressar como trainee, assim como a própria Seunghee. Viu-se perdida. Não tinha como competir no carisma com a outra.

— Mesmo assim debutou, alcançou o tão sonhado debut junto de um grupo diferenciado, descolado, do qual nem sempre sentia-se parte, principalmente pela personalidade contrastante com aquelas encontradas na televisão coreana, com sorrisos e corações de presentes. Ah, como sonhava em ser assim… Não demorou também para que percebessem como Seunghee se diferenciava dos outros. Críticas eram ouvidas, postadas, comentadas e discutidas dentro e fora da empresa. O caminho claro ganhou novos ares, conturbados e conflitantes, querendo levá-la a desistir. A ansiedade em si ganhou novos níveis, cresceu, gerou idas ao psiquiatra e medicamentos.

— Mas, no fim do túnel, é difícil negar a luz existente. Apesar de ter considerado a desistência, jamais passou por sua mente a real fuga daquilo que mais amava em todo o mundo. Ser idol era seu sonho, sentia-se realizada em dançar e conseguir impressionar. Era nisso que havia investido sua vida toda. Seunghee, então, continuaria a subir nos palcos até quando aguentasse.

WANTED CONNECTIONS,

INIMIZADES.

— ˛ unisex ╱ open. Algo aconteceu. Não se sabe bem o quê, mas o momento em que se encontraram, muse e Seunghee não se deram. Talvez um momento infeliz. Poucos burburinhos foram ouvidos sobre olhares trocados, até algumas indiretas podem ter sido ditas, mas a verdade é que Seunghee não é de confrontar e, bem, se for sincera, a figura de muse a intimida.

AMIZADES.

— ˛ unisex ╱ open. A verdade verdadeira é que Seunghee se sente sozinha. Tem pouco apoio da mãe e do pai, quase nenhum contato com a irmã gêmea e, bem, pouco se encaixa no local onde está. A presença de muse lhe deixa leve, lhe deixa alegre, lhe deixa confortável.

— ˛ unisex ╱ open. É muse que tenta liberar os nervos acumulados de Seunghee, convidando-a para festas e eventos que, com muito custo, são visitados. Por vezes, até visitas surpresas são recebidas. Talvez muse tenha visto em Seunghee um pouco de si, talvez não queira ver mais um idol sucumbir. Talvez. Mesmo assim, muse está sempre lá, arrastando-a.

— ˛ unisex ╱ open. Apesar de sua timidez e falta de confiança crônica, Seunghee é uma grande dançarina e uma vocal em ascensão. É isso que muse vê nela e é isso que tenta fazer vir à tona. Tentando trazer confiança para os seus dias de vocais, muse algumas vezes a acompanha até karaokês e ensaios divertidos. Ou então, buscando se aprimorar e enaltecer Seunghee, junta-se a treinos de dança, que é onde vê-se a idol brilhar.

— ˛ unisex ╱ open. Desabafos constantes e a calmaria de uma noite de pipocas é o que cercam Seunghee e muse. Neles encontraram calma e até normalidade nesse lado conturbado do mundo, cheio de reviravoltas e críticas de todos os lados.

tba.

[queenharumiura]

Haruka sure shouldn't give Haru something so dangerous but considering the things she heard about her world, she couldn't help it. As she gives Haru a flask of perfume, or it looks like it. I want you to hear this with a lot of attention, okay? This isn't a perfume so don't spray towards you. This is a lethal venom. One spray in the person's skin and the person dies, no traces, no cause of death. So, if you ever, EVER find yourself in danger I want you to use it. There is no smell so don't worry about inhaling it. Promise me Haru. Oh also, Merry Christmas.

[Xmas Stuff] || @thehandworld

"Hahi? Haruka-san?" Haru was surprised to see the woman walking about, and when the two locked eyes, the older woman approached her, handing her a flask.

Haru looks down at the flask and feels a small feeling of apprehension. If it was such a lethal venom, she had to be careful to not let anyone else touch it, lest they accidentally poison themselves- her included. It was good that the 'perfume' was left in a flask, because it would be a problem if it were kept in a container that could easily break or spill.

How awful would it be if it had accidentally spilled in her bag and she died because she was looking for a piece of candy?

This wasn't the first time she was gifted some kind of poison for protection. Bianchi was also someone who gifted Haru and Kyoko something as a form of protection before.

"Thank you, Haruka-san, Haru will be very careful with it. Hopefully she won't ever have to use it, but if she does, Haru feels safer knowing that she'll be protected."

It was kind of cute how Haruka was similar to Bianchi in the way that they both thought of giving Haru some kind of poison.

[whiskeysmulti]

Be honest Hayato ~ Do you love Yamamoto?

Send "be honest" followed by a question and my muse will be forced to answer with 100% honesty- no longer accepting!

He clicked his tongue. What was it anyone's business who he loved anyway? Gokudera usually kept his private life as private as possible, but when asked about his relationship with the Rain guardian he had to be honest this time.

"Yeah. I do." What was it any of their fucking business though, he wondered.

[thehandworld]

"A day alone with the baseball freak, huh?" Gokudera lit a cigarette. "I'd tie him up, have a little knife play together, bite and mark him all over. I'd use candles and toys on him until he couldn't take it anymore and then once he was whimpering and begging I'd fuck him to hard he'd pass out when I was done. That's if he wants to, I mean."

Come tell my muse just what you’d do if you had a day of absolute obedience from them~ @whiskeysmulti

He smirks as he hears Hayato's words, honestly, there are a few things about Yamamoto that he only told Hayato, like the fact that he was a big fucking masochist. It helped with his own post-traumatic pain so he just embraced that fact about himself. Quite honestly he didn't want to push Gokudera, knowing he wasn't that much of a sadist.

Maa maa Hayato, don't threaten me with a good time. One that I'm not sure if you could do it ~ He teased as he looked at him, he couldn't help, he loved to provoke Gokudera and he did make it sound like a challenging something that he knew Gokudera wouldn't like to lose. I mean, unless you learned something new with Mukuro or Hibari.

On a side note, he did tap on Hayato's hand making a small signal of pause, as he pauses the scene. I love to be with you dear, I don't mind in doing whatever you want, but never feel like you need to do this because I like it. He also kisses him on his lips, after all, he needed to maker sure that Hayato was fine with it.

It isn't only the sub who needs to be checked in hard scenes after all.

[wickedlyrefined]

* . ⊹ Lista de conexões!!!

Pra ajudar com os plots fiz uma lista com algumas conexões que achei que seriam legais de desenvolver com a Lady T, está já explicado em cada uma se tem especificação de gênero ou sobre ser perdido ou canon. Se quiserem algo só comentar aqui ou pelo chat <3

Confidente (01/01) - Muse é uma das poucas pessoas que Verônica realmente confia para contar suas frustrações e problemas reais, claro, com certa resistência, mas vê em muse uma pessoa que não lhe trairia. Não porque confia em sua moral, mas porque faz questão de ouvir atentamente tudo que muse lhe conta… Bem, é uma faca de dois gumes, não é bom para nenhum dos lados contar por aí o que compartilham entre si. E com o tempo a ruiva até mesmo passou a apreciar verdadeiramente a companhia de muse.  - Fechado com @detocarocoracao

Dívida sem fim. (01/01) - Não é novidade pra ninguém que depois do final feliz de Cinderela a Lady Tremaine ficou sem ter onde cair morta, falida e sem nenhuma filha com um bom casamento arranjado, ela teve de dar o seu jeito. Ela não se orgulha muito disso, mas teve que pedir muito dinheiro emprestado para muse para que pudesse abrir a Elysian e manter o negócio de pé até se firmar. E mesmo que os negócios estivessem se estabilizando, ela ainda deve uma fortuna a muse que sempre faz questão de lembrar Verônica disso. - Fechada com @mzgicmirror

Mommy issues (02/0?) - Verônica não entende muito bem o por que disso, mas para que muse fica desconfortável apenas com sua existência. Aparentemente, ela lembra a relação conturbada de diversos perdidos com suas mães ou madrastas, o que afeta visivelmente a forma que muse lida com ela. - Fechado com @chloewcldron, @gneralofhearts e aberta apenas para perdidos. 

Quem dera você fosse minha filha! (01/01) - Mesmo que sempre diga que ama suas filhas, Verônica constantemente as critica em suas falhas de postura e falta de ambição. Mas quando colocou seus olhos em muse viu tudo que sempre quis para as próprias filhas, uma dama humilde, de ótimas maneiras e que é determinada a ter uma vida melhor independente dos meios. Gosta da forma como a visão de mundo de muse é prática e não romantizada, vendo casamento e afins apenas como um meio para um fim. Com isso chega até mesmo ser estranho para muse que Verônica lhe trate tão bem e pareça querer lhe ajudar de forma genuína. - Fechado com @princesacisne

I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips (01/01) - Muse é uma mulher atraente o suficiente para deixar Verônica deslumbrada e ao mesmo tempo completamente incerta de como agir em sua presença. Sendo tão movida apenas por suas ambições, ela não sabe se é uma boa ideia sucumbir aos seus desejos ou apenas os ignorar. Ela faz o possível para que muse não perceba, mas é nítido certo grau de nervosismo em Verônica sempre que muse se aproxima dela. A própria definição de gay panic. - Fechado com @malsmirage.

Sweet memory (00/01) - Muse é um homem gentil, centrado, dedicado, encantador e de uma coragem invejável, do tipo que protegeria quem ama com unhas e dentes. Mas ao mesmo tempo consegue ser sério e ter a cabeça no lugar, o problema com tudo isso é que muse  lembra Verônica um pouco demais seu primeiro marido, Francis. E com as memórias do passado vindo a sua mente sempre que vê muse, deixa a Tremaine confusa e sempre fazendo o possível para o evitar sempre que sente estar sendo minimamente vulnerável demais. - Aberto apenas para homens perdidos e canon

Fã da Cinderela (00/0?) - Muse tem Cinderella como sua princesa favorita e por isso desde que chegou ali declarou a Tremaine como sua inimiga, afinal, como ela pode ser tão cruel com a Cinderela? E Verônica detesta isso, mas por mais que queira consumir com muse, sabe que isso lhe traria problemas gravíssimos de imagem. Por isso faz de tudo para tentar lhe convencer que é uma nova mulher e que está buscando se redimir como pessoa. - Aberto apenas para perdidos 

Falsidade aqui não! (02/0?) - Muse acha a Lady Tremaine uma completa chata e falsa, prefere estar perdido na floresta enfrentando três ursos do que ficar na mesma sala que a mulher. Enquanto isso, Verônica busca uma maneira de ficar bem aos olhos de muse, tomando quase que como um desafio pessoal fazer com que o desgosto de muse mude para algo mais agradável. - Fechada com @bonedeepwit, @taeohact e aberto para perdidos e canons 

Rival imperdoável (01/01) - Muse e Verônica possuem quase que um tipo de competição e rivalidade entre elas, seja nos negócios, amizades ou qualquer parâmetro da vida. Muse faz questão de esfregar na cara da Tremaine sempre que faz algo melhor que ela ou quando organiza as coisas de seu jeito antes que Verônica tenha chance. E não há nada que a Tremaine odeie mais do que perder e ter as coisas saindo de suas rédeas, ela faz o possível para manter a classe, mas Muse não colabora em nada para que isso ocorra. - Fechada com @golpistagothel

Aceito todo tipo de cnns, mas segue uma breve citação de algumas que não coloquei por pura preguiça: Matchmaking (Quer que ela te guie pra achar o amor? Ou casar por dinheiro? Ela aceita), Você tá com problemas no casamento e busca ajuda? Ela aconselha também. Quer melhorar sua imagem ou imagem do seu negócio? É só falar com ela!

[constellationcrowned]

🐉 (for kariom)

Send ‘ 🐉 ’ for my muse to tell a myth / legend / folktale that they know

"A story....?" Kariom blinks, his words coming out around the bite of bread he'd just taken. This wasn't an uncommon conversation for either of them---and they were something that the half-blood enjoyed---and yet..... "......."

He takes another bite of his roll if only to buy himself more time. Wouldn't it be nicer to share a lighthearted story? Something fanciful and stupid like one of Bo's stories? Something LESS IMMEDIATE AND TRUE...? Alas, there was only one tale he could tell; the same one that was looming larger with every step the star-reader took, the same one that hadn't remained a mere story for long.

"When I was little....well, younger---" Kariom makes a vague gesture with one hand to indicate a rough height, "---Flynn TOLD ME A STORY ABOUT AN EYELESS BEAST---it was something that even immortals were wary of---and how it would take the eyes of its victims, like little kiddos who wandered around at night without supervision and cast their gaze towards things they shouldn't. Initially I thought he was just trying to ward me off from going out at night on my own, stars or not, because I had.....have....the habit of doing that but he was so insistent about it and then...." And then Tigla-Dera---his last Tigla-Dera----and then there was Milosh, Milosh with his rhyme and Flynn. Flynn....

Without realizing it Kariom's now free hands had shifted as he spoke; his right hand moving to clutch at the star theater eternally hung around his neck and then, upon mentioning Flynn and the Tigle-Dera his hand opens and hovers near the scar marring his chest. Just for a moment or two, enough but not enough, never enough, and then both hands ball themselves into fists and press against the tops of his thighs.

".....The stinking thing should've STAYED AS NOTHING BUT A MERE STORY." He didn't even know how the Crown was supposed to stop something that could harm the tsourai in such a way----let alone if it was currently possessing someone. Would the Crown hurt Flynn? Would it trap the two of them together? Or.... "...I have to do something about it, and soon. It doesn't deserve to be anything more than a dumb tale for Flynn to spin for an over-imaginative boy." He needed to do something before it took Flynn away from him....or anyone else for that matter.