Standing on the landing pad a safe distance from the arriving carrier, the synthetic had his hands clasped in front as usual with his head faintly titled. Eyes watching the ship finish it's landing before the back opened to unload the equipment it carried as well as those onboard - including the very woman he was waiting for. He did not move forward, he stayed where he was to allow her to come to him - others going about their day around them, or doing their jobs.
"I trust the flight was not bumpy" The piolets knew better though than to fly so carelessly that it would dare be anything but a smooth flight to the Neverland facility "I trust you were informed why you are here? I'm the facility chief scientist Kirsh" He introduced. For a synthetic and while he did seem a bit blunt and dry even - the man almost didn't seem synthetic, but did at the same time? It was a bit confusing
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All the Monkey King did was simply chirped, his tail still pointing the way even as he got adjusted onto her properly. He understood strength when he saw it, and knew the difference between looking dainty and being dainty (much to many Gods' surprise).
"Just past the trees over there, Witch."
Sun said with a tease to his voice and a casualness that most would assume to be given only to those he trusted most.
We want to hear about James and his recreational activies.
"....Why would I want to relive the horrors of James's- behaviors? I'm not sure I can even call them 'misbehaviors' at this point. They seem to be his normal, everyday... He's beyond all help, that's the point I'm trying to make, and I'm worse off for knowing it, as would be you."
@galaxofmuses sent - 🌈 ― aesthetically pleasing blog ⭐️ ― convincing portrayal of a canon character 💻 ― excellent writing 🌼 ― creative headcanons 🎙️ ― great to talk to 📚 ― nice threads to read 🎀 ― all-around kind person 📌 ― a staple on the dash 🏆 ― 10/10 blog, would recommend ( Shout Outs of Awesomeness - Accepting! )
🌈 ― Aesthetically pleasing blog.
I always thought @tenebriism had a really nice aesthetic - their banners are beautiful, as is their header - of course, the aesthetics is only one of many great things about their blog.
⭐️ ― Convincing portrayal of a canon character.
@historias-multorum always does an amazing job but particular shout-out to their Hinata - just as adorable and endearing as in the show.
💻 ― Excellent writing.
Admittedly, haven't had a chance to write with them but someone whose writing always catches my eye would be @cursedfortune - I just think they're a really engaging and great writer.
🌼 ― Creative headcanons.
@fairymint - always a joy to read their headcanons and to see what Felix is up to.
🎙️ ― Great to talk to.
@hymns-across-the-stars - We've played Roblox a bit together, they're a fun mun and genuinely chill. Like them a lot.
📚 ― Nice threads to read.
@lastflowerpetal - of course it's even nicer to be writing with them but I love how they write Aerith and seeing her interact with and meet other characters.
🎀 ― All-around kind person.
@phntasmgoria - just an all around sweetheart and someone I genuinely need to hang out with more. Can't say enough good things about them.
📌 ― A staple on the dash.
@grimmjxw-jaegerjaquez - I see them on the dash pretty often and have even talked to them a bit - it's fun getting to learn a bit more about Bleach through their muses. They seem genuinely nice.
🏆 ― 10/10 blog, would recommend.
@monmuses - Toastie and their muses are just 10/10 and incredibly fun to write with, I keep meaning to send them more stuff.
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Such a busybody. Here and there, running about with his tasks. But it took one quick reflex of her hand finding his throat that seemed to finally still her husband. It wasn't a harmful manner in which she held him, pinning him back against the wall, but it was nonetheless effective.
Her black gaze gleamed in the moonlight that poured in through the windows at her back, illuminating her plum curls as much as it brightened his golden irises. She leaned in, ashen colored lips covering his in a kiss meant to be shared between a husband and a wife. A gentle press that evolved into something deeper with the intent to steal his breath away and forget about the world for a few moments.
"It's late. The bed is too big by myself." Mortem murmured against his lips. She wasn't demanding he march to their bed, but she was expressing her wishes. Her thumb stroked along his jaw and down the column of his throat before she relinquished him.
He exhaled sharply through his nose. He looked at her—really looked—noting the fatigue lining her dark eyes, the faint tremor in her fingers where they still hovered near his clavicle. The candles had burned low hours ago, yet he'd been poring over maps of trade routes like a man possessed.
She was right. It was late.
His own bones ached with the weight of the hour, though he'd never admit it aloud. The concept of exhaustion felt vulgar—beneath him—yet the warmth of her palm against his skin made the thought of cold parchment suddenly unbearable. The silence stretched between them, thick with the unspoken. He watched her eyelashes flutter—dark crescents against her cheeks—and something primal twisted in his chest.
Mortem didn't plead.
She didn't need to.
Her exhaustion was written in the slight slump of her shoulders, the way her fingers curled inward as if already imagining the weight of their sheets. As he exhaled through his nose, long and slow. His hand rose—not to push her away, but to tangle in the plum-dark strands of her hair, pulling her closer until their foreheads touched. The scent of her clung to his fingers: bergamot and something deeper, like rain on dry earth. "You're insufferable." He murmured, but the words lacked their usual venom.
The bed was indeed too large.
Mortem knew this—knew the way he'd sprawl across it when left alone, claiming every inch as though compensating for something. But tonight, he folded himself around her instead, his chest pressed to her spine, one arm slung heavy over her waist. The fabric of his shirt scratched against her bare shoulders. She would feel the steady thud of his heartbeat through it, slower than a human's ought to be.
Then he buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling sharply—not the desperate gasp of a drowning man, but the measured breath of someone confirming a hypothesis. She smelled like pure terror, horror, nightmare, danger. It made his lips twitch. Perfection, even now. His fingers traced idle circles over her hipbone, mapping the dip and rise of her through thin silk. The motion was almost absentminded, as if his body moved independently of the ceaseless whirring of his thoughts.
*gently takes, holds and admires. puts it in my mouth and skitters off with it like a little creature*
Send in ‘Mask’s Calling’ to meet a muse I’m on the fence about roleplaying as.
"... Ah. I don't remember having an appointment scheduled at this time."
The stately and sleek figure of NSR's CEO was half-turned away from the imposing stained-glass windows of her office to acknowledge the newcomer's presence. Her hands were folded neatly behind her back while magenta eyes coolly scanned her visitor. Turning to face them, she raised a brow.
"Did my secretary allow you inside? I don't have the time for much idle chatter, as I am to meet with my artists soon."
"... Unless you're here for the press to discuss the recent... Issues, plaguing Vinyl City's streets. Regarding the two rogue rock musicians who have taken it upon themselves to destroy NSR's reputation, I can assure you the situation is under control. My artists and I are investigating the matter further, though I doubt this 'Bunkbed Junction' can do much to disrupt the status quo."
Tatiana waved her hand in a slightly distracted and dismissive fashion. "In any case, we have to worry more about the satellite we just launched. If you want an official statement from me, please schedule an appointment. Good day."
Her firm goodbye summarized her feelings as an attempt to repress her irritation with the situation unfolding, though she always had a no-nonsense attitude and a rather short fuse. She turned back to gaze through the ornate windows, narrowing her eyes that swept over the landscape.
