passion embodied.

✧ . * #𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒. independent and selective multi - muse for characters from a selection of media ( mostly torn out of their respective canons ). usually focused on horror / suspense settings  with a side of fluff to soften the tone. fandoms include but are not limited to : supernatural, breaking bad, buffy the vampire slayer, resident evil, the witcher, & many more. currently more active on @astrophager (sideblog).

CARRD. ASK PROMPTS. INTEREST TRACKER. PLEASE FILL OUT MY INTEREST TRACKER!

current highest muse for : amélie lacroix, mike munroe, maelle, elizabeth march, beatrix kiddo, jesse pinkman. updated jun. 2026.

drafts / inbox tracker under read more.

removed / archived : chloe price, lito rodriguez, alec lightwood.

promoted : daisy jones, voice testing ↷ secondary.

demoted : richie tozier, secondary ↷ request only.

@croftborn. elizabeth march.

the countess has a type, one she rarely deviates from and those who don't fit it certainly don't tend to get her time of day. men, men with money, men with status. men with potential : that of adding figures to her wealth, or a handsome counterpart to the wreath of her arm as she walks, or a new plaything, or a new piece on a chessboard she will soon grow tiresome of before knocking it over and starting afresh. she likes them dark haired too, but that is a personal preference she doesn't attribute too much reason to, lest it consume her with a ravenous and forlorn reminiscence. this isn't to say she doesn't stray from this type, although it always elicits a judgmental brow quirk from her prying receptionist : word travels fast in the hotel cortez, and liz knows as much as the bartender as much as the housekeeping. whispers travel the walls, and today they speak of lara croft. a very special guest, indeed.

❛ you'll have to tell me more about your travels. ❜ she coos as the dutiful host, offers drinks on the house — she's come so far, after all — and talks at large over bar cocktails while trying to decipher that titillating concoction of flavours that linger on her tongue. she tastes char on a piece of burnt meat, something acrid and citric like lemon juice, a hatred that runs deep. the most familiar flavour of all is the heartbreak, ice chips in a martini, the sharpness of an olive stewing. elizabeth tastes it all and craves sustenance, and when they retire to privacy after conversations long since due to end, the promise of room service champagne a sufficient excuse, she tastes more.

@prophetyse. lisbeth salander.

night city stops for nobody. the gunshots permeate walls as habitually as if they were merely part of the wallpaper, peeling and decaying like a rotten tooth. gang violence never ceases, substance abuse is so commonplace it may as well not be called abuse anymore, and capitalist greed is at an all time high. a certain netrunner has clocked out for the day, sold what information she could glean to fixers and hacked into data systems for the righteous cause of good old corporate espionage. what she earned has already been spent mostly on equipment, rent, and the bare necessities — a pack of cigarettes, a cold six - pack of broseph lager, and a locust pepperoni pizza.

lisbeth's text is sent soon after, barely before her feet are through the door and definitely before shopping is put away. she does not ask for company with any sort of niceties or bribes, instead only presents the option as if it were another string of code to be parsed and input should the other wish it. that doesn't mean she doesn't smile when sabina accepts.

@betrayale. beatrix kiddo.

it makes a pleasant change to be on the other side of the bar, not least of all with pleasant company to match. instead of pouring pints she pours her attention into a lawyer with far too much intrigue for a career so meticulous, and while she knows she's not meant to pick favourites, sofie is certainly a standout she likes to see come through the door. it helps that she tips generously, too. she has seen the raven - haired dame buzzed from drinks many a time, but this is the first time she meets her there, riding the high of a number shared on a coaster, deftly slid over to her clientele with a knowing smile.

that smile returns now, watching the flustered flush of crimson rise to sofie's neck and cheeks ( no doubt made more so by the booze ) and beatrix revels in her compliment having such a potent effect. she aims to assuage any nerves however, a hand bridging the distance between them to plant gingerly on a spot that is higher than sofie's knee but not quite her thigh, enough to be deemed friendly and yet reaching for something more, staying there.

❛ it's okay. ❜ she soothes with a squeeze of her fingers, stooping forward as if sharing a secret. beatrix is not worried about coming off too strong, but rather aware of sofie's flurry of thoughts, doesn't know whether to chalk it down to inexperience with women or something rooted deeper. she does know her eyes are wide and inquisitive as a doe's, something innate within herself wanting to pounce on that curiosity and consume it. it's okay, her words repeat as she feels sofie's breath flutter unsteadily over her own waiting mouth, their leaning forms suddenly steepled against one another with only the bar as support, faces close.

it's okay, the blonde murmurs in the space between their lips when they touch, briefly part, collide gently again. she tastes beer and something sweeter, maybe sofie herself, all tongue and teeth and softness, and her fingers lift to gently cradle the other's cheek with her free hand, the other having traversed her leg and finally found her thigh as planned. when they part beatrix is beaming and unashamed, returns to her drink as simply as if they had made casual conversation, keeps cerulean gaze trained on her company. it's okay, her smile says when it reaches her eyes, all easy talk and smooth sailing.