toomanydamnmuses

[toomanydamnmuses]

Starter for @bleachbrainrotbro Astarion

He approaches the mansion he's been sharing with Astarion since his arrival to this strange world, the sun only just beginning to set. His head pounds from trying to understand the strange rules of this place. Their magic, as they call it... At first, he'd assumed that it was their version of kido, but the more he learns about it, the more he realizes that is not the case. After all, even the most skilled kido user could not gain the same amount of sheer variety of uses that this magic seems to have.

Some of what he's learned, however, has kindled a small spark of hope in his chest. That perhaps he can be healed here, in a way that could not happen in the Seireitei. He might be able to be whole again, as whole as he'll ever be able to be. What's more, Astarion had mentioned to him before that he knew some contacts that might be able to help. Powerful contacts.

His head isn't the only thing that throbs, though. His shoulder aches in a way that tells him that rain is coming, without even having to look and see the clouds coming in from the sea. It might even be a rather bad storm, given the way that his hip on his bad side even aches with every step. That only happens when the storms are very bad, or it is especially cold.

Groaning, he gently shuts the door behind himself and leans against it for a moment, letting out a breath in an effort to center and steel himself against the pain. He makes his way slowly and stiffly to the bedroom, tossing some logs into the fireplace. But then he pauses.

Kido can't be used to start a fire, really. Wabisuke is not the correct type of zanpakuto, and he doesn't know this world's magic. Nor does he believe this place has the same 'matches' and 'lighters' that the world of the living does, where he is from. He's tried and failed to use the flint and steel, too used to the conveniences of his original home. It's in moments like this that he desperately misses Momo, and Rose, and many of his other friends who could have helped him.

Giving up on starting a fire as a lost cause, he instead strips and limps his way to the bed, burrowing under the covers. The blankets only serve to preserve and enhance body heat, which means that all they really do is provide some weight over him. He hasn't produced his own body heat since....

He likes to think that it is the thought that counts, at least. He closes his eyes to try to rest, in too much pain to really care about doing much else.

[toomanydamnmuses]

((For all followers, old and new:

Apologies for the inactivity. I want to be here, I promise I do, but life's circumstances are making it near impossible. I am, for all intents and purposes, homeless. I just got out of a homeless shelter that was, frankly, not unlike a cult or concentration camp in more ways than one. That being said, my current situation isn't much better, as it is a camper trailer that needs to be condemned and burned and is literally falling apart. With no wifi or heat or anything like that. I am only here now, to do this post, because I am house-sitting for my parents for a night - the camper trailer is in their back yard, and those who have my discord are more than welcome to reach out and ask for more info that I will then provide as I have wifi access to see said messages. Otherwise, this is pretty much all I'll put here so as to keep it nice and simple. I'm working on it as hard as I can and as quickly as I can, given my circumstances and what I have available to me, but everything takes time and so I have no idea when this will be fixed.

I want to be here. I want to interact with you all. I miss writing and chatting with you all. For the new followers, I see you, I would normally check in to see what you want to write and otherwise get things started. It simply isn't possible right now. If you decide to unfollow on account of all of the above, I understand completely. Same to old mutuals: if you want to unfollow because of my inactivity, you are welcome to. I understand, and I apologize. Otherwise, all I can ask for is that you be patient.

Thank you all, and I miss you all very dearly

Starry

[toomanydamnmuses]

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[toomanydamnmuses]

Izuru’s depression is chronic but his ass is iconic

"I'm not entirely sure that I understand what that is supposed to mean..."

[toomanydamnmuses]

fun concept: on anon, tell me the headcanons you have about any character that you’d never let see the light of day.

reblog if you want to have someone invade ur inbox

[toomanydamnmuses]

Astarion showers Izuru’s face in kisses

Blushes but allows it, leaning into him.

[toomanydamnmuses]

"Eh?" He pauses and stares for a long moment, before absently gripping Wabisuke's hilt in a nervous gesture, even as his other hand fiddles with a loose thread on his sleeve. He isn't sure what to make of this, but it sounds like he may have made a slight mistake.

"My apologies, I just... Most drinks from... Other places than where I am from, have a rotten tendency to make me ill to my stomach. Tea, in my experience, is generally safe, however."

He then pauses and tilts his head in curiosity. "Is the water not very pure, here? I suppose it would make sense, as it is only natural for it to vary based on geography and the sort. Where I am from, we are lucky enough to have water that is quite pure naturally."

He then chuckles at the tea that the other man refers to. "Ah, yes, that is one I am familiar with. Or at least, the version that is back at my home. While it is not my preferred blend by any means, it is still rather good. It goes very well with desserts in my experience, and many sweet things."

“Ah…” He sighed, almost somberly. “You remind me of the Duke…” He murmured. “The Duke Wriothesley is very fond of tea too. He doesn’t seem to share the same views on water purity as i do…” He hummed. “In any case, there is no shortage of tea. But if anything, Liyue and Inazuma have the best tea. I believe the Inazumans have a wonderful blend called ‘matcha’. a dear friend of mine, Sigewinne is quite fond of it.” He continued to lead the man towards Hotel Debord.

[toomanydamnmuses]

He's taken back, mentally at least, to those days of wandering in the sand with Yylfordt and the others. Those days that he'd do anything to get back, when he'd had his pack. The laughter that would ring out every time they found some catnip that had been dragged in, often accidentally, by a hollow fleeing from the living realm.

The pets to his head feel wrong, however. There are no gentle claws scraping against his scalp, and his ears aren't in the right place to be rubbed. His fangs aren't as large as they should be, and his paws...

Clarity comes like a bucket of ice water, and just as quickly as he'd collapsed into a purring mess, he's on his feet and bolting out the door. His claws, desperate to sink into flesh and blood and bone, his teeth aching to tear muscles and tendons apart.

Ichigo stopped laughing in order to just stare at Grimmjow for a few seconds, wondering when the effect of the catnip on him would wear off & what would happen when it did wear off-- He could only hope there would be no dire consequences. "uh, okayyy..." He reached out a bit reluctantly and began to pet the other's head awkwardly. "Happy now?"

[toomanydamnmuses]

He hums in confirmation, snuggling a bit closer without really realizing it. "It's... Neverending. Except for when I came here, briefly. Because of you."

He pauses and opens his eyes to sit up, leaning on his elbows as he peers at Astarion. "Did you not say that it has been a century or more since that time you'd had an adventuring party? Are the lifespans of this place so different from those of the living where I am from? While centuries of life is normal for a shinigami, for mortal humans it is incredibly rare for them to even near one century."

He feels a tingling bit of curiosity at this new information in the back of his mind. How strange, and how wonderful, to find a place where the mortals might live as long as he otherwise would have, under normal circumstances. Granted, of course, as a shinigami it would have been illegal to be friends with a mortal, the Kurosaki boy and his friends being excluded.

He wonders how the extended lifespans in this world affect things. Do things change much more slowly, as is the case in the Soul Society? Or do things continue to change fairly rapidly in comparison? Or does the possibility of extended lifespans even matter, when it seems as if mortals are always waging war and killing one another.

Astarion listened and his eyes widened slightly. “You’re saying that… this…” he motioned to his wound. Or… injury. Whatever he classified it as wasn’t important. What was important was Izuru’s wellbeing. Don’t keep dwelling on the semantics.

“it will hurt like it did when you first got it?” He asked softly. “We… I’ll find you a cure. There’s many spells and different types of magic we could try. I have friends who could help, f-from my old adventuring party.”

His chest felt tight at the notion that he might lose the one person he became close to in a millennia.. He took a small breath and smiled reassuringly, whether to himself or to Izuru, he didn’t know.

[toomanydamnmuses]

He watches her, his face void of emotion. It isn't even like the times in the past, when he'd set his emotions aside in order to deal with issues. No, because at least then the emotions had still been present, just pushed aside until a better time to deal with them. Now, there is simply nothing to be set aside. His emotions had died with him.

He knows, in a detatched way, of the piles of paperwork on his desk that will likely never be looked over. Won't ever be signed. It was a bit of lucky foresight, so long ago, when he'd made Kaisa a stamp of his signature in case he was ever unable to do so himself. Had he been his past self, he probably would have wondered if she was using it. Maybe even asked about it. But not now, now he simply continues his unblinking gaze.

He sees, but doesn't feel, how she reaches out to touch his kosode. Much as with his emotions, physical sensation had died as well. What little remains of the feeling of touch is simply pain. Pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain pain, pain. He has since numbed himself to even that, however. Pain is useless to him now, after all. He has been made such that, short of chopping him into many little pieces, he will still be able to keep fighting long past what would have stopped another.

In the past, he might have snorted at her words. Perhaps would have tried to comfort her, to reassure her that there was nothing that could have been done. Instead, he returns his gaze to the horizon. His destination.

"What's done is done," he simply states. "I am not him. The one you mean. He died. You would be, too."

♤ She couldn’t blame him for purposely keeping himself scarce. Kaisa would have probably done that herself if he hadn’t left her practically in charge of their division. She had no right to her position. Her human life had been forfeit to be there. At the time when he’d been the reason she was in the Seireiti, she didn’t mind. They were akin to siblings then. Now, it felt as though they were strangers. They barely saw each other. She didn’t even know if he’d read the reports she had to write up about what she went through. Did he know about the weeks of being held prisoner? Kaisa shook the thought away and glanced up at him.

He had died. Everyone knew he had. There was no way around it, and the fact that their division had lost so many while he was brought back weighed on her. If she were there, would everything have been different? Would she just have died in that fight as well? Would her reishi be a part of him just as the others were now?

Kaisa reached a hand out, gently brushing the fabric of his kosode. She didn’t want him to go just yet. She needed him to stay for a few moments more.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me,” she said, “maybe neither of us would be this way if I had been.”

[toomanydamnmuses]

He doesn't spend much time in Seireitei anymore. He doesn't spend much time around other people, anymore. Well, not any people that matter anymore.

He'd died, after all. Many of the people who did matter died with him. Certainly, it might be argued that he is not dead anymore by some. But he knows it is a lie. He died, and he is still dead. What remains now is a shell, a puppet, a mere shadow of what he used to be. A tool, a weapon that can never be returned to its sheath again. He isn't Izuru anymore, not really. Just like he isn't Rikuu, Asuka, or any of the others, despite having the remnants of their reiatsu inside of him as well. He's just a patchwork of the remains of souls shoved together to keep this husk moving.

He still has to return somewhat regularly, however, to have general maintenance done on what remains of what he once was. To ensure everything is working correctly, or as correctly as it can. That the measures put in place to keep everything stable are still in working order. He makes these brief trips quick. He doesn't want to see those who knew what he once was, and he knows that they don't want to see him.

No one wants to be reminded of a dead man, after all.

He doesn't even blink or turn his head in acknowledgement of her words when he hears them. He only pauses in his walking from the Twelfth, back towards the outer reaches of Seireitei and from there back to the Rukongai to resume his wandering.

"Kaisa." The word comes out flat, any affection that was once held long since rotted away. It had disappeared along with who he once was. She may technically be his lieutenant now, but she may as well be captain now. He doesn't spend enough time in Seireitei anymore, after all.

He doesn't feel any particular need to say more than that, really. She knows what had happened, and what he is now. So he sees no point in putting in the effort when they both know it would be a lie. When the man that he was is long dead.

@toomanydamnmuses liked for a starter

♤ Things between the two of them had changed so drastically in the years since they met. Kira had adopted her into his clan and treated her as though she was his little sister. They did look as though they could be related, sort of. The shade of their hair was almost the same, but hers had unruly curls, and his eyes were brown compared to her green ones. She did, however, view him as an older brother. He’d saved her, protected her, and even taken the role of caretaker for the kid. Kaisa was no longer the scared seventeen year old he had found in the world of the living. She was no longer the kid that was about to be devoured by a hollow. Because of him, she’d become strong, but even so, she was not as strong as she could be.

Both of them suffered in the last war. He was not the same. He had technically died, then brought back by Kurotsuchi. She’d been a prisoner of war, and even though she was physically alive just like her surrogate brother, on the inside, she was dead.

“Izuru,” she murmured, “it’s been too long.”

There was no smile, just an acknowledgment of his presence.

[toomanydamnmuses]

He offers a half-shrug, even as he allows Astarion to grab his hand. He follows the other man to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway for a moment to take it in.

He shivers somewhat at the kisses to his knuckles, stepping closer to lean against Astarion for a moment. "It wasn't pleasant," he agrees quietly. "To be quite frank, I wish that we had been allowed to fully fade and rest. But... I, at least, was needed still. So I understand why the captain had done what he had done."

Before laying down on the bed, he strips off the loose bathrobe that Astarion had given him earlier. He drapes it across the foot of the bed, where it will be out of the way, before laying down.

He curls close to Astarion, resting his head on the other man's shoulder and closing his eyes again. He releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "It's different," he admits.

"In the Soul Society, as a result of all that had happened... I felt no desire or anything of the sort. I felt nothing, I thought nothing, I wanted nothing. I was merely a weapon, a tool to be used. The only thing I knew was pain. But... Here, for some odd reason, it's all come back. The pain is still there, certainly, and I've no doubt that when it returns in full-force I'll be incapicitated for a while until I get used to it again. But... Thoughts, feelings, desires, the sensations of things beyond pain are returned."

He is pensive for a moment, before continuing. "I appreciate it, and yet I find it worrying. I was the way that I was for a reason, so that the pain would not incapicitate me. For all of these things to be returned to me, it worries me that the measures taken to keep my soul, and that which binds it together, stable may not be working as intended here. Unlike my other visits to other realms beyond those I'm used to, this one may be on much more of a time limit before something terrible happens."

Astarion nodded. He took a small deep breath. "I'm sorry. That must be awfully painful to deal with.." He sighed softly. He gently took Izuru's flesh hand and led him back to the bedroom. "This way, darling."

He gently took Izuru's hand and kissed his knuckles. "I cannot imagine or pretend to know what that must have been like." He murmured softly, sympathetically.

He led him back to the bedroom and he let him lay down. He cuddled him close and smiled at him with his fangs cutely poking out.

"Thank you for indulging me, darling. And for opening up to me. It isn't often I have a man as wonderful as you as my companion."

[toomanydamnmuses]

Astarion when Izuru cuddles him

Izuru when Astarion cuddles him

[toomanydamnmuses]

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Ah... It's been a while, since this had happened. The... Modifications that captain Kurotsuchi had applied to him, after his death, had ensured that he would be able to keep fighting long past what would kill any other. Short of cutting him into many little pieces, not much can stop him.

Or so he'd thought.

The strange beast he'd encountered while wandering about outside after dark is one he's unfamiliar with. But then, most everything in this strange place is unfamiliar. Astarion had warned him about some of the ones he'd most likely encounter in the city, mostly other vampires and the strange 'hag'. At least as far as anything actually dangerous goes: any normal human(?) would pose little threat.

He isn't entirely sure what this beast was called, but he's also sure that once he tells Astarion about it, he'll be told what it is. This strange, humanoid creature with dark purple skin and tentacles where its mouth should be. Really, the entire head resembles the squid he'd sometimes order with noodles at that one place just along the borders of the Third.

The outfit is curious, as well, on the creature. He supposes that if it is wearing clothing, then it must be sentinent. But also quite clearly not particularly interested in conversation, given how quickly it had overwhelmed him. He's still not entirely sure how, either. It had all happened so quickly.

His vision starts to go black around the edges as he watches the strange beast levitate closer, the tentacles reaching out for his head. Just before he loses consiousness entirely, he sees a streak of silver and blood red, and the flash of fangs, all but throw itself over him and towards the beast.

Everything goes black.

[toomanydamnmuses]

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[toomanydamnmuses]

@semplicementerojuro replied "yes! come enjoy the sunset with me~"

This was... Unexpected. He'd actually been half expecting the captain to want something a bit more ridiculous, like for him to listen to some new composition or something. But no, it is something that he actually won't half mind.

"...Alright. I suppose it can't hurt, and... Well, I've always enjoyed seeing that sort of thing, even if I don't have as much time for it anymore."

[toomanydamnmuses]

He can't help but wince in sympathy at hearing that, finding it difficult to imagine a full year isolated within a coffin. He then hums and lightly leans into Astarion as he's dried, taking over the job when it comes to his wound itself. It isn't that he doesn't trust Astarion, it's just that he knows that no matter how gentle the other man is, it is still going to hurt.

"We both are, then," he murmurs. He gestures to his wound. "For all intents and purposes, this killed me. What was left of me had already begun to disappear. But captain Kurotsuchi found what was left of both myself and my subordinates. He.." He pauses here and takes a deep breath, even though it hurts. "He gathered what remained of my subordinates' spiritual pressures, their very souls, and used those to augment what little of my own remained. It was just enough to reanimate me, and make me into... Well, this." The final word is spoken with the clear disdain that he has for himself.

He pauses and mentally shakes himself out of the memories of the past, and of those he's lost. Instead he finds himself leaning lightly against Astarion for a moment, after putting on the bathrobe that had been handed over. "Well then, shall you lead the way to the bedroom?"

"Hah! if anyone knows anything about that, it's me." He scoffed and chuckled. "A whole year locked up in a coffin, if anyone, I understood this well." He slowly started to dry them off.

"Yes, I do. Well. Did. I'm technically dead." He looked to the side, shrugging his shoulders as he slipped a bathrobe on. He handed Izuru one, offering it to him in case he wanted it.

"Ah, alright. Whatever you deem most comfortable for yourself, darling." he smiled slightly.