#off the golden verse

[yuwuta]

yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always. 

[keepmovinjunior]

meg is honestly one of the most shippable muses i’ve ever had so i was trying to figure out why that is. and i’ve come to the conclusion that it is, literally, because she is sexy, but also grumpy.

[quietlyblooms]

lil blog update!

i've dropped old drafts and asks ( mainly older than september, but more may follow ) that i had no muse for; this kind of thing just has to be done occasionally, but please don't be deterred from interacting if i've dropped things you sent/we were writing together! a lack of inspiration does not equal a lack of interest. this just means we get to try again and write new scenarios together!

the other major thing to be aware of is the rule i added! feel free to take a look at the page if you need to refresh your memory overall, but to avoid making you read through everything, i'm placing the added rule below. i want to stress that this is not directed at anyone as it's something i've always struggled with, especially as i become anxious when i approach others for one on one chats. i appreciate your understanding <3

before liking any plotting calls that i do post, please have a dynamic or plot already in mind as well as a muse or small selection of muses you would like to write against chiyo. your ideas do not have to be fleshed-out -- that's what plotting is for! but it's really important that you do this because i get overwhelmed when these choices are placed mostly on me by multiple people. i'm willing to be flexible if you have a dynamic in mind but can't choose a muse or vice versa, but if you have nothing to offer whatsoever, please understand that i may not message back. 

[quarks-pussy]

Mirror Kira is something that can actually be so personal

[acewithobsessions]

This song is so thomas barrow coded send post

[astarab1aze]

➥ Belegerande's School for the Arcane: Features (1)

the school nestled into the mirewood of belle valley is a mysterious one indeed, fraught with everlengthening, everchanging hallways, corridors, atriums, grand archways, stairways, and many more of such that lead nowhere; wrought iron draped in vines and brachio tendrils, magnificent courtyards and personalized reading nooks for all the little bookworms, mystical wallpaper with printed animals and flowers that move, paintings that watch your every step, dark corners and empty rooms, spidery stained glass and doors of intricately carved wood; classrooms lined with skulls and bones from which necromantic knowledge can be gleaned, all well-versed in the ways of death magic, a hint at the ancestor worship once prevalent among nightfolk - now reduced to pettily cackling at students who don't pay attention; lantern rooms, blue rooms, red rooms, whole and isolated libraries, glass rooms, study rooms, ornate bathrooms, well-stocked supply closets for every alchemical need; walls lined with trophies of alligators, crocodingos, beholders, red wolves, snallyghasters, frogmen, and more, specimen jars and skeletons, skins and pelts, oddities, anatomical diagrams, wrought iron light fixtures and creepy crown molding; and plenty more.

but there are some aspects of the school's grounds that stick out a fair bit more than the rest, such things that a student would first babble on about as soon as they could. from the bottle tree to the frog butlers, the talking skulls in the mudriver shallows, the stained glass staircase that never seems to end, the verdant entrance to house la fey, the clock room, the pygmy fey living in the tree in the central courtyard, the inverted tower beneath the greenhouses, the doll room, and more!

the frog butlers function as a sort of p.a./alarm system for belegerande's, allowing the headmaster to give morning announcements while students are shuffling off for their first classes; their secondary function as an alarm system was first put into place as a means of notifying anyone nearby of intruders, but these days, they serve best to catch students sneaking out. the frog butlers, upon sighting a troublemaking student, will begin to scream like screaming bullfrogs - just inordinantly louder. they are located all throughout the grounds and are sometimes easy to miss.

the bottle tree is an old, very large willow tree near the greenhouses on the eastern end of the school, adorned in hanging glass bottles filled with notes, letters, and wishes. it's long been a tradition at belegerande's that each year's graduating class leave a few bottles for the tree, over time creating a stained glass portrait in the grass should the sun break through the willow branches at just the right angle. this small tradition is more or less a goodbye and an imparting of hopes, plans, and dreams for the future. it can come across as a little pretentious, but the tradition stands. any caught attempting to take the bottles down or harming the tree will, probably, have a few branches swing glass at them. there's a rumor the branches will close in and trap the person inside, or strangling them - one of the two.

the never-ending starcase is a stairwell comprised of stained glass, spiraling in a double-helix going both up and down as far as the eye can see. the staircase begins on steps of glass steadily tapering the higher up you go, seemingly bringing the stair to an end, but it opens back up again, this time with stained glass surrounding the stairwell, and this repeats ad infitum. it can and will quite literally go on forever and is very easy to get lost in, with no visible entrances or exits or ways to get off - unless you already know exactly where you're headed. for years, this stairwell has long been used by the adventurous types happy to get lost, or the firskier types who want to take their romance to the next level, as teens do. sneaking off to the staircase because no one's going to go looking for you, but everyone's got a pretty good idea of what sort of trouble you got into in there.

the clock room is an...unfortunate place to stumble upon. it's full of clocks, which, on the surface, seems utterly harmless - but the clock room is different. clocks of all shapes and sizes line its walls floor to cieling, wall to wall, some standing alone in clusters, some hanging from the cieling, and the size of the room goes on and on. no discernable exits, and you cannot go back the way you came. the constant ticking in the background is enough to make one begin to lose their grip, imagine how long it takes for the heart to sync up with every stutter and twitch of the minute and hour hands. a few minutes will feel like hours, even days, but the room inevitably spits you back out into the hallway because...you're not a clock.

the inverted tower hidden beneath the greenhouses is an old and decidedly ancient place, considered a relic from the days alistair belegerande first settled in the area. built of carven stone and iron. said to be where alistair's private study was located, but it was flooded long ago, now caked with mud, moss, and full of water. the potential it goes deeper than just a few tens of feet is high, considering alistair's wealth of secrets. the entrance to it has since been boarded up and built over, hidden by the school's ever-expanding, everchanging halls. if a few students are brave enough, they might uncover a secret or two for themselves.

the doll room is a room located somewhere within the school nearest house scrivener, decorated in numerous colorful fabrics, streamers, and other such party favores - and dolls, of nearly every make, some cursed, some possessed, and some friendly. much like the clock room, it is almost entirely filled with dolls, with some hanging from the cieling, sitting on near endless shelves, tapdancing across the floor, there are simply dolls everywhere. some cracked and dirty, many from different time periods, some clean and untouched, some burned or otherwise damaged, and all are there to protect yet another school secret. who would willfully walk into a room of dolls that watch, haunt, and curse your every step? scream, howl, and yell at you? trip you on their strings, trick you into all manners of things--

the pygmy fey living in the live oak tree in belegerande's central courtyard are no larger than a half-pinky's length. they skitter about the roots sticking out of the soil, in and out of their little homes; students offer the pygmy fey miniature furniture and bits of food when they can, even shrinking full-size items into 'family size for pygmy fey' and leaving them on the roots for them to find. aside from that, students and faculty are not in any way allowed to go near the pygmy fey as they are too small to survive any possible upsets, let alone even a single person's step in the wrong direction. these fey have been living in this tree since twenty or so after the school's founding and are thus protected permanent residents. they have tiny wings alternating between butterfly, bee, moth, and dragonfly styles, though there are some, particularly males, who don't have any at all. in any case, it's best to leave them be - a fey curse is always a particularly nasty one.

[kuraikyu]

@kuroyrii : “Senpai” calloused digits stretch out, grabbing softly at the fabric of his sleeve. She suddenly presses her slender form against the nearby wall, inhaling a sharp breath as the cursed corpse looks around curiously, the small plushie confused. Terror strikes on her features as she motions, shhh! hide me, will you? Her shoulders slump as she finally exhales, “Sorry, that one has been after me all day, I guess Yaga is trying to warn me about the element of surprise, it’s over kill - don’t you think?”

ㅤ𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 doing in the face of danger. Before a familiar fragrance would engulf him like a woven road by myriads of sylphs the pull on sleeve enkindled sparks of confusion within tens of seconds. His eyes refocused upon Sayuri and he no longer spoke as if submerged in deep waters of sleep, nor his tongue felt slate heavy. Sentient curiosity comes to flourish and his purpose to continue along the road leading to the dorms has fled.

'' Sa-. '' Her sudden ambush stopped him in the middle to address her properly. Why so? Such Incomprehensive mystification. Once shaking off condition of bemusing puzzlement he couldn't help himself but cursorily grin in slantwise leniency once she explains her worries, " You, and scared? " Speaking in almost saccharine tonality if not distinctive sound and flickering eyelashes reassuring in their reflectiveness giving away her visceral worries.

'' Tsch, how fortunately I am merciful, wait here, '' he urged right after slight tease. Her Senpai luckily agreed to provide cancelation to the role of treacherous usher; he would not leave her in troubles, even if she would not ask for it. Doubt haunted his steps but now it have vanished for he stole a peak himself in curiosity. The view had nothing to do with ambiance of dusk-lit tops of Mt. Mushiro. The Cursed corpse who terrorized the road with patrol looked nothing like the cute one they formerly encountered but rather like a mutated huorn about to smite anyone crossing its path. It would not surprise him to figure out that this sow was in fact something worse that would make one wish for tusk-wounds. Given a standard issue, the culprit whose misdeeds could be forgiven only by its creator painstakingly searched for its target by combing nearby bushes, one after another, and reacting to the slightest hints of trepidation. Geto's overworked muscles already protested the strain from his last training and dealing with /this/ right now felt like a huge 'no no'.

No way!

" A bit far afield if you ask me ... we need to get out of here before it will rash an unsightly action, " he whispered to her quietly and hid beside her by the same wall.

Their situation - spiced as it was, was not beyond hope. In order to overcome noxious confrontation, Geto's grey cells quickly assembled splinters of aforethought, evaluating the importance that their passage should remain secretive. A risque like throwing a coin into darkness. Cursed Spirit Manipulation unlocked the portal of ink; unleashing a minor grade (*and Racoon sized) Curse that slithered out and plunged among the bushes, dashing far away the opposite from their location as a decoy. The corpse, now fully alarmed immediately heard the noise traveling across the bushes and rushed after it. This was their chance!

" Quick, let's go! " with a gentle tug, his hand locks upon Sayuri's wrist to pull her out and flee with her the other way around. - before their luck runs out and they would have been turned back by the long fangs of their drill Sensei's creation.

[arxnexe]

stop squirming! you're going to be fine!

MEME // OPEN // @bcywonder

---

HISSING , squirming, SQUEALING , borderline BEGGING; that is exactly what the arachnid was doing. A thread and needle weaving into a GASH so deep, that Peter was ( YEARNING ) for death. Eyes watering, BISTER hues ( pleading ) with might. NAILS ( clawing ) at the remnants of the chair ; a TIGER bellowing in between.

" I don't think I'm gonna make it doc ... OW... OW... OW... OUCH!!! OKAY, OKAY !! Time out ( COACH )! DAMN, that freaking HURTS. I never thought I'd say this but ... I could really use a DRINK ... annddd maybe an ice cream after.. "

[streetgoats]

IT BEGAN AS A GAME. one better understood with thy premise of partying knowledge. however, thy soft truffles fell from well styled bonnets. big enough to hide thy own hearts casted shades.

AMELINA'S OWN WOUNDS ONLY SWOLLEN BY THY PROSPECT OF BECOMING A BASHFUL BRIDE. " mother always says to keep men at the door , and thy heart to thy own domain. " thou wasn't naive , thy knew thou calls of longing when thee reached for it , but thy love was like a game of chess. often with direct conflict. ( thou loved it. )

" thy asks thou one simple inquiry , wouldnst thou be better cared for by a hundred girls , and learn that thine cater to flirting about almost ---- for sport --- or leisure ?? nor , does thou see thy flowers begin to bloom at thy calling of lover's morn ' ?? "

thy pale brows set up high in delight along with thou cherry lips , " thy hunt is celebrated in all resounding hearts. merrier times indeed !! "

@eritvita . continued.

[scouts-thingsandrps]

Fucking around with a Rebel Atalanta in the Golden Duo AU

[whirling-fangs]

[[MAN the thread with Douma and child Inosuke has reminded me of how much i enjoy a good psychological horror story :3c

Douma is just like "ehehe feeling cute might eat 12 followers and play hide and seek with my boy :) " and meanwhile Inosuke is living the Worst Day of his existence :') ]]

[enruint]

it bothered him that another had come to their aid.    and it was not for the reason one might think,    of childish reasoning such as being made to feel weak or    incapable of doing the task    they had burned their whole childhood for.    no    ━━━    it was for one reason and one only:    they were a shield and a shield should not be protected.     it should hold the heavy weight of pain,    of blood,    even death. until bruised,    broken and battered beyond recovery.    even then that shield would have to turn to sword,    sharp edges meant to cut down until nothing was left.    he could not allow himself to ever appear     as anything less than the emblem that decorated uniform dictated    he should be.    it's why heart seems to sink into stomach even when the knight offers them words of reprieve,    of a gentle reasoning for their actions   ━━━    did mikael really look that pathetic    ?  did he really look like he needed help ?   it continues to gnaw on him even when    the gallant knight     offers him another chance to repay such favor,    even when those eyes gaze upon him,    even when they look away from him.

the paladin takes a second to compose himself,    mind a flurry of thoughts while body remained at ease.    good little soldier boy.    the sword upon their hip seems to burn through their clothing.    a reminder that he was    truly sword and shield    and nothing would ever change that.    it's then with practiced ease that lips curve upwards into a smile yet    there's nothing feigned about the warmth    it exudes    ━━━   an honesty mikael could never hide.    a certain    kindness ingrained into his being    even when following a path that could and    would slowly erode that hope he clung to even now.   ❝   you're too kind.   ❞    or perhaps stuck with the same kind of oath,    that unwavering desire to be a protector even when deemed foolish.    yet his voice is gentle,    gratefulness laced around words,    eyes soften then    ━━━   emerald could never lie even if he wished to.

with hand resting upon the hilt of his sword does he follow their line of sight towards the maimed corpses,    the remains of the slaughter and    perhaps it's the way they say it    but mikael can't help the laugh that escapes lips, breaking through the tension of the situation at hand.   ❝   you needn't worry.    those of my order will be here soon and make sure it's taken care off.    and if they wouldn't i would've done it myself.   ❞   stepping across several limbs ,    boots marred with blood,    he comes to stand beside the taller knight,    head tilted slightly, gaze falling upon their companion's visage: a beautiful painting of crimson, a darling green    &.    swirling red within that green and then:    starlight.    ❝  rest   ?  surely you jest.  ❞     brief    moment of enchantment    broken by the amused glow within own emerald kissed hues as he begins to walk ahead,    following the winding street,    leading them away from the slaughter and gore.

❝   one such as i does not rest not when i can be called upon at a moment's notice.    i shall rest when my duty has ended.   ❞    a dramatic pause,    a tinge of mischievousness settling within simper.    ❝   that sounded    rather intense    did it not   ?   fear not,    i rest when it's needed.    i am no good otherwise.    now that i have accepted    your proposal of a supposed break    what do you wish for us to do,    oh stranger knight.     you do not seem from here,    i would've known one who carries the colors you do.    and one with such prowess as well.    this daring knight that came to my rescue,    i am curious.   ❞ ⊱ @knghted, cont.   ⊰ 

[blackhawkcomics]

M!A: you have the uncontrollable desire to find your soulmate for 12 hours

Pick up pick up pick up, Julie silently pleaded. She didn't have to wait long. The first ring had barely faded before she heard the click and Lucia's voice at the other end.

"Hey, perfect timing; I was about to call you."

Her laugh bubbled across the line to lift some unknowable weight from Julie's chest. For as long as she could remember, Lucia's laughter had always been infectious, but the fluttery feeling it planted inside her... That was new. Since the Blip, that was new.

Juliette Rodriguez, you pull yourself together, she scolded herself.

"I'm already on my way," Lucia said.

"Are you sure you didn't acquire an X-gene while I was gone?" Julie laughed, trying to ignore the rush of warmth to her face and not dwell on the fact that 'gone' meant 'dead for five years.' "Because I'm pretty sure you just read my mind."

"Ha! Yeah, Professor X said it doesn't work that way. See you in a few."

"I still can't get over you knowing half these people from our comic books now."

"I know, right!?"

"See you."

They hung up. Julie flopped backward onto her bed in the two-bedroom apartment she and Lucia shared and just laid there for a moment, grinning.

Oh no, she thought. Oh, I've got it bad.

Adrian rolled onto his side, one arm tracing up the contours of Jackie's hip and over her stomach. Pulling her close, he nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

"Let's stay in today," he whispered. His lips brushed along her jaw, trailing kisses until a smile stirred beneath them.

"Mm. I was hoping to get some editing done, but I like your idea better," she murmured. A happy sigh rumbled in her throat, more felt through her skin than heard. "What's the occasion?"

"I love you. Only occasion I need."

"Perfect."

Was she pathetic or what?

Here she was - at two-thirty on a Wednesday afternoon - downing her umpteenth cheap beer with the despondent understanding, deep down, that it would never make her forget that she was visiting the bar alone.

Whenever the loneliness hit her hard, she always ended up here. Or, not here precisely, but at some sad bar somewhere, identical enough to be interchangeable. Not that it ever did her any good. She would get blind drunk, fumble around in the bar's grimy restroom stalls with a stranger's hand down her pants, and eventually end the night telling herself that was enough, that she didn't need anything more from anyone than a quick fuck or revenge. That she was - if not happy - at least fine like this.

It was an unconvincing lie if ever there was one, but it didn't stop her from catching the eye of the pretty woman across the bar and flashing her a suggestive grin. This could end in sex or a fight, and she'd take either option at the moment.

Maybe she'd go after SHIELD directly after this. Take them down before they could do the same to her. That young agent on her case, Castillo - she seemed interesting enough to be a distraction.

She'd take anything, right about now.

Pathetic.

[pbaintthetb]

really hoping ot be able to post pt.1 of my new deadset verse fic for february this year, we shall see. Currently needs 1 bridging scene, a rewrite of a scene to make it less cringy, and the outsider pov scene (should be easy tbh, I just want to do it last)

done most of the minor edits which is what has revealed these two issues. Thing is part 2 is largely written (needs 2 bridging scenes, maybe some reworking, and outsider povs" pt 3 is... not written, and I keep angsting over the order and a lot of me doesn't want to post it until I at least have a skeleton bone structure for pt.3 so I don't leave it abandoned forever anyway c'est la vie

[myrc3lla-a]

thinking realistically, who would be cella's ladies in waiting.