#჻ϟ჻ within the mind ( musings )

[tellnxlies]

@haematophiliac​  asked: 👁ϟ OHO

// Send 👁ϟ for your muse to catch a glimpse of one of my muse’s scars!

It’s okay, he mentally chided, easing nerves that had no right to be there. Because there  is  no one there to see, stumbling to the park at some unholy hour of the morning.

Naomasa took a breath, suffocating in the end of summer heat, and made to at least roll up his sleeves. Shoving a dress shirt up to his elbows, not at all mindful of the fabric as he so usually would be. Nowhere near ready to leave his arms bare to begin with, no matter how high the temperature could manage to rise on them.

Another halting breath, heavy within his lungs and all but crushing down on his chest. In part due to the heat, for sure, and a larger portion from his own imagination. Unable to relax as he knelt at the water’s edge, catching the reflection of his own past as it rippled away.

They’d always been such horrid little things . . . he turned his forearm to and fro, examining the wounds as if they’d just been made today. Tracing each and every last line with his eyes, as if he couldn’t tell you their paths by heart.

Standing straight off his skin, an ugly, mottled red. Wrapping around his elbow and threatening to constrict everything it found along the way. The opposite arm wasn’t truly much better, and they’d only marginally healed in a more . . . well, correct . . . fashion. Sweat dribbled down around them, and the detective scrunched his nose at that.

Reaching into the creek, splashing at himself as if it would manage this time to wash away his sins. Willing that if nothing else would go away, that perhaps this damned lump in his throat would. Knowing reasonably that there would be no one else to judge, or ask questions that could not comfortably be answered.

Far more on edge than he’d been in a long time, regardless.

“What the hell is wrong with me today . . .”

[myriadxofxmuses]

ϟ for one muse to take revenge on someone for hurting the other (ohhh, maybe Ethan finds one of the guys that tried to kidnap Rose, and shot her.)

X

His finger tapped against the steering wheel.  His eyes scanned the parking lot over and over. He ran a hand through a non existent beard before chewing at his thumb.

Where the fuck were they?

He had been assured that those responsible for Rose’s recent mishap would be here. It was after all a routine stop. Lowlife hitmen were usually drunks on their off time.  Ethan’s patience was quickly running thin for both his informant and his prey. He had already waited weeks up to this point. Weeks of wading through emotional bullshit and pleas to let it go from Rose.  Her promise to handle it herself falling on deaf ears.

They had killed her. 

They had to pay.

And tonight he was here to collect.  

Having left his phone purposefully at home - the first mistake of any modern day killer was taking it with them; he’d be damned if that pesky GPS ever snitched on him - he very nearly waltzed inside and charmed his way to the bar’s. If these guys didn’t show up soon he was going to have a nice chat with Roy at his warehouse. And he was going to owe him a huge apology for his information being so very wrong. 

Then the truck pulled in and the two asswipes hopped out. Ethan scoffed to himself and freely let a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. 

Looks like tonight is your lucky night Ol’Roy Boy.

He quickly got out and followed them inside.  He slowed his steps and forced himself to remain calm as he walked through to a darkened corner, the men within his sight as they sat at the bar chatting up some other locals. Everyone seemed to enjoy their presence.  He couldn’t help but wonder how their minds would change knowing they had killers in their midst. Although he doubted these two were ever nearly as creative as he was. 

Beer after beer he drank, following right along side them, and each one letting his anger grow more and more. He replayed that night through his mind as he waited for them to give him an opening.  Every moment, every feeling, every fucking little detail forced itself to play on repeat, reminding him of just how human it had made him feel. His stomach turned as he downed another drink, the alcohol slowly releasing his demons until one of them finally had to break the seal.

Ethan stumbed in behind him and locked the door, leaning against it to get his barings. His eyes bore deep into the back of the man as he stood at the urinal. The image of Rose dead and riddled with bullet holes forced his rage to take center stage, overwhelming what little logic still clung to the sober corners of his brain.

He shuffled across the bathroom and without hesitation wrapped his arm around his neck tightly. The man fought back, knocking them into the wall and dropping them to the ground. Ethan grit his teeth and held tighter.

"Hold still asshole," he growled out through a clenched jaw.

"The fuck you on you piece of shit," his opponent asked rhtorically through his struggle to remove Ethan's grip. Red welts began to from where he had been clawing at his arm - had he been his usual playmate scratches would have accompanied them.

"Love," he answered through a sadistic chuckle.

He squeezed tighter as they squirmed around on the floor. This was much harder on the edge of drunkenness. And they fought back much more when they had a cock between their legs. If this had been any other night he would have opted for less of a mess in his kill.

But these two had it coming.

"You're....fucking.....nuts," the man struggled to insult as he fought for air.

"No I'm not. Drunk, maybe, but I'm prefectly sane," Ethan replied through grunts of struggle. "Just give up already. You;re only making this worse for yourself," he orderded him just as the last traces of consciousness slipped away.

He held on a few moments longer before finally relaxing his grip. His chest heaved. He shoved the body away and scooted from beneath him, stumbling as he stood. He grabbed hold of his shoulders and drug him to lean against the wall, quickly checking his pulse - faint, but there - before he left to find his friend.

"Hey," he said, slapping a hand on the second man's shoulder. "I think your buddy needs your help. He's passed out in the john. Guess he should have stuck to water," he said through a small chuckle. "Come on," he said with a sloppy motion behind him. "I'll help you haul him out."

An arm around each of their shoulders and the three of them made their way outside, dropping the unconscious one in the cab. While the driver's back was turned, Ethan grabbed a handful of hair and slammed his head against the doorframe. It took two hits before he too joined his friend in the land of slumber and Ethan could finally have his fun.

------

[txt little raven] Catch a ride to the Boogaloo and bring my extra set of keys with you. My car is there.

[txt lttle raven] Then meet me at the den. I have a little surprise for you.

[txt little raven] And hurry

[asgardianhammer]

WHAT IS YOUR MUSE’S DARKER LOVE LANGUAGE?

an undoing influence Can someone tell you what to do? You have been carrying so much love within you for so long it is starting to turn into anger (why does it matter, all you see is red anyways) and you have been dragging this body through each day and every night you are split open on your bed and it is so so so lonely. If someone were to walk in while you were on your bed that way and they stitched you back in a new way, lining the seams with their love and kisses, you’d probably find this dreary world a little more bearable. You want someone to turn you over and over until you look in the mirror and see yourself looking back at yourself with a gentleness which has been lacking in you since forever.

tagged by kindly borrowed from: @sviker

[thefittest-blog1]

ϟ

Our muses are having an argument and things are getting physical and heated. Send me ‘ϟ’ for my muse’s reaction to yours suddenly pushing them into the wall aggressively and kissing them.

The two had been arguing about something Evelyn hadn’t even thought worth remembering; whatever it’d been, none of that mattered. She’d lost herself attempting to explain herself and was now dismissively agreeing with the young boy, tongue dripping with sarcasm she hadn’t even realized was there. They’d long since stopped on her doorway and the both of their bodies had turned to each other out of pure instinct. She raised the hand with keys in it to absentmindedly blow off what he’d been saying. 

                                                          The truth.

She had been experiencing nightmares with a familiar to the younger man--but she knew she could steel herself through them and come out on the other side. Harmed, perhaps...but alive. She didn’t trust the same for Quentin. No, he’d been going through this routine for ages and he was growing tired of it. That was the reason he came to her in the first place. They now knew how to kill a nightmare dwelling monster...but they weren’t quite sure how to pull it off. Evelyn almost saw it as an opportunity to gift Quentin by dealing with him herself. Knowing she wouldn’t have the mind to end a life, but that her brother’s will for her was more than enough. 

She could shoulder what was happening to her alone, but the pale boy was clearly no match. He’d been hurt by him as a child and now he was frequently harmed by him as an adult, the wounds thankfully caught and treated by a professional nurse rather than just a teenage boy trying to hide the cuts. ‘And that was their boiling point. The fact that he’d found a familiar line of cuts over her arm while she was re-dressing them in the Employee Only lounge--a place he was only allowed into because of the staff having gotten accustomed to dismissing the boy in search of their staff member.

Evelyn having clocked out early during the beginning of their hushed argument claiming it was because Quentin “needed a nap time” with a cheeky grin that rarely showed on her face. Only when he was around did her lips ever twist so confidently. “Yeah, sure. I’m seeing the Demon in my dreams now and it wasn’t just an unstable patient. You got me, Quen. I’m just lying to you because I’m a bad person.” She teased, a half-smirk still visible on her face as she passive aggressively denied the accusations of holding her secret. That was when she truly noticed just how close he’d gotten to her. The brunet close enough that their chests touched with the puffing of their chests. 

That was when she felt a pair of warm hands settle onto her shoulder to push her back against the old wooden door; as softly as he could despite the growing volume and ferocity in their voices. The venom that grew which each claim they spit from their tongues. Having not expected a physical touch from the other; no matter how gently he’d pushed her back. “Quen, what are y--!” Deep brown eyes locking onto steely grey like a doe in headlights. 

Then it hit her. Truly and like the shot heard ‘round the world, left her head spinning. She closed her own eyes within the time it took to take a deep breath, her cheeks lighting up with heat as she moved her lips in a synchronized motion against his. Her own hands finding his on her shoulders and pulling them down between them so that she could intertwine their fingers. Her first kiss. She melted into it with ease, lips twisting into a tiny smile against his lips as she reciprocated what she could. The connection was there and it felt like their energy both peaked and faded where their bodies met, her hands yanking his back behind her body to bring his body closer. So she could feel more. Of him. 

[wscldier]

ϟ

ϟ send for my muse to wake up from a terrible nightmare, and for yours to witness this. ;; accepting ;; @wiitcheshex 

sleep  was  never  going  to  be  something  that  came  EASY  to  him  .  even  now  since  they  had  settled  a  lot  of  the  trigger  words  from  his  head  .  but  no  matter  how  much  they  had  pulled  from  his  head  ,  it  didn’t  exhume  the  guilt  from  his  mind  .  every  night  ,  going  to  bed  &&  closing  his  eyes  seemed  like  an  uphill  battle  .  everytime  he  closed  his  eyes  ,  there  was   another  face  in  the  mist  ,  clouding  &&  making  sleeping  UNBEARABLE  .  it  depended  on  the  night  ,  but  sometimes  he  could  get  more  than  a  few  hours  sleep  .  on  bad  nights  however  ,  he  could  wake  up  screaming  . 

tonight  was  a  bad  night  .  

he  hadn’t  noticed  it  but  he  had  fallen  asleep  on  the  sofa  within  the  recreation  room  of  t’challs’  home  .  uncomfortably  he  might  add  .  he  supposed  everyone  had  gone  to  bed  &&  had  just  left  him  there  .  he  woke  up  in  darkness  ,  his  head  pounding  &&  his  chest  aching  .  it  took  him  several  minutes  before  he  realized  he  was  screaming  again  .  this  time  it  wasn’t  a  VICTIM  he  was  remembering  .  his  hand  reached  up  &&  began  to  itch  at  where  metal  &&  flesh  joined  as  he  remembered  the  SEARING  PAIN  .  voice  going  raw  ,  he  was  able  to  clear  his  throat  &&  stop  .  taking  several  breathes  ,  gulping  down  the  mixture  of  panic  &&  fear  .  sweat  beads  falling  down  his  face  .  it  took  several  minutes  more  before  he  realized  what  he  was  doing  ,  staring  at  his  bleeding  shoulder  &&  how  it  had  began  to  run  down  his  metal  arm  .  

bucky  gagged  at  his  actions  .  not  OPPOSED  to  blood  but  rather  the  skin  that  was  falling  from  his  shoulder  .  he  didn’t  have  much  time  before  he  threw  up  in  a  trash  basket  close  to  the  sofa  .  

every  night  .  it  was  a  mixture  of  varying  reactions  that  he  had  .  most  were  involuntary  .  &&  sadly  none  of  them  had  any  rhyme  or  reason  .  he  hated  it  .  but  he  probably  hated  tonight  most  because  whilst  he  usually  dealt  with  this  alone  ,  after  the  mania  of  his  reaction  ,  he  saw  that  there  was  someone  standing  there  watching  him  .  he  wiped  his  mouth  .  

‘  yes  ,  it  is  as  BAD  as  it  looks  .  ‘  he  told  her  .  ‘  &&  i  would  appreciate  it  if  you  didn’t  tell  steve  or  t’challa  or  ... sam  .  or  anyone  else  to  be  honest  .  ‘

[jeongchinoli-blog]

ϟ x 28

For every ϟ in my inbox I’ll tell you a random thought my muse has about yours.

Does she know she looks like that when she sleeps? She looks like a storm is brewing in her mind until I take her into my arms, and the furrow in her brows releases and her seas calm. I think I’ll keep that to myself.

I hate when I’m not with her. Every moment is daunting and taunting and cruel. I just want to be with her.

Do Bok Soon is a wicked woman. I don’t understand where she learned all these charms, but I’m completely bewitched.

I want to dance with her and for her and because of her. I have always hated dancing, but she makes me want to.

What is she thinking? Behind those false moves, their is a hidden motive. What is it that I’m not seeing?

I swear to god... Why does she turn me into a high school boy who doesn’t know when to make his move? 

Do Bok Soon... She should have called by now. Does she want me to worry? Maybe I should call. Am I really this whipped? Yes.

She is so sexy... 

I hate the way she can literally do anything she wants then make that face, and I instantly forgive her. She needs to stop running my life.

I’ve never been so scared to lose someone. I don’t think there has ever been someone so necessary for my survival.

Why won’t Do Bok Soon have sex with me? I feel like she is trying to test me, but she already won. I am her slave, her humble peasant. Why won’t she? 

She’s so smart in a way that doesn’t define her to books or logic. She can tell me biological concepts and also pull me into waters of her deepest theories on life. She’s so brilliant.

I think no one will ever see me like she does. Past all the bullshit, she sees me. 

I bet she’s a freak.

She loves to taunt me, but I’m going to get even within the next five minutes. Just wait, Do Bok Soon!

Why the fuck is that guy talking to my Do Bok Soon?

Maybe critiquing Do Bok Soon’s brother’s question was not my best move to get on good terms with her family. She looks so upset with him for hitting me. I need to be better for her.

Do Bok Soon is a good person. She may think she is a travesty, but she truly is someone who has a good heart. Even in the darkest, she finds light.

I cannot tell if I always knew I was missing her or if I met her and realized that. I just feel so completed with her.

I think I have to kill her cat. 

She’s gross, but okay.

I’ve always where I’d be with my girlfriends in ten years before, but with Do Bok Soon, I don’t wonder. I know she’ll be cradling our baby glaring at me for saying some terribly cliche comment. 

I will never let her down. I swear to myself and to her, I will never let her down.

She could murder me, and I would love her in the next life. I’d probably love her even more from the separation.

I love her, but that would be stupid to say this early. Still, I know I love her.

Wow. She’s so evil and stupid. She needs to stop smiling after.

Her blushing will be the death of me. Why does it always encourage me, though?

I want to give her everything.

[asgardianhammer]

WHAT KIND OF WEATHER ARE YOU?

blizzard

you treasure your loved ones above everything else, and would go to the ends of the earth for them. you’re a dreamer with a big imagination, and put most of your energy into creative exploits. you have difficulty living in the present, and are frequently caught up in thoughts of how you wish you did things differently. your past doesn’t define you; focus on the people and things that you love, and you’ll be okay.

tagged by kindly borrowed from: @drengiir

[asgardianhammer]

worthiness is a fragile thing. and so the hel is the mighty thor. i pray that never changes. the day i stop struggling to be worthy is the day i lose the storm for good.

Thor Vol. 5 #15

[asgardianhammer]

[ ϟ ]

Self-Knowledge Questionnaire

AMBITION

You have a strong sense of potential and an intense drive to accomplish difficult things. The core of this is your ability to hold together the big goals and the daily efforts. Where other people’s hopes collapse when they encounter the tedium of the journey, you keep coming back. Oddly, it is actually your ability to endure feeling unheroic that counts. You know the power of working away solidly on what’s in front of you.

REVERENCE

One part of you dreams of giving yourself up – perhaps just for a while – to a hero or mentor. In the right circumstances you can flourish by letting go of your ego. In your inner life, reverence plays out as a willing submission to your own conscience. In the outside world, you might get frustrated searching for something worth believing in – a country, a person, a company – but you will always be open to feeling respect, admiration and wonder.

SENSITIVITY

You have delicate, sensitive perceptions; you can be deeply moved by appearances – the right light in a room, or good food, or the texture of a piece of clothing. Expressive, intelligent language has a powerful hold on you; your mind works better when it is inspired and provoked by vivid imagery. It can be sad to live in a world which is often so ugly and not properly looked after. But you know that things can be otherwise, and you have the ability to appreciate the world at its best.

tagged by: @dobroserdechnyy (( ty this was so interesting! )) tagging: the lot of you you know the drill lemme read stuff plsplspls

[asgardianhammer]

!!!

[  lazy roleplayer symbol meme ]

[  !!! : write a headcanon about our muses ]

[ ϟ ]—– Vows had been given, and swearing upon all that he held dear to not approach had been done in vigorous fashion, heart and commitment at the root of all oaths he had taken.

And yet, as any young one with good intentions and still pliant will, he had succumbed to that fiend called curiosity, and its ever-present mate, desire, breaking promise to sibling when weapon beckoned.

Vreldr was intriguing,  differing so greatly from his own weapon, a fate’s path reforged, changing and evolving, transforming and adapting. Part of his sibling as much as mighty hammer was his own, even more so in some aspects as metal appeared one with the flesh.

Flesh he dared to touch then, driven but the urge to know more, and promise to brother briefly forgotten. A brief connection when pads of his fingers trace the markings, fascination mingling with fear of waking Vidarr. You promised, brother’s scornfilled tone was already heard within his mind, but it could not be helped this time.