#powerxfimagination

          "I don't need you! Just go!" Sobs wrack the deranged conduit's body,           the claws of anxiety snagging at him, dragging him down into the abyss           of his insecurities and fears. He pleads with her, doubled over, arms           around his stomach as he retched. "I'm sorry please just go. I can't... I           can't... you have to go. Now. Please." Desperate, broken, hands that           bleed smoke curled into fists. No no no no!

Send me ⊙ for a 6 song soundtrack to describe our muses together.

All of Me — Jasmine Thompson Cover 

Distance — Christina Perri 

Arms — Christina Perri 

Neon Lights — Demi Lovato 

How to Save a Life — The Fray 

          "Why do you love me?                           All I do is hurt you." 

                                                                The deranged once-Akomish whispers hoarsely                                                                 through dry lips, a weak gaze flicking up to her                                                                 face with a look of meekness, like a kicked puppy.

13. My muse stripping themselves down.

She seemed to be humming to herself, s she removed her clothing, she didn’t take long to get down to absolutely nothing…then she turned around and screamed as she saw someone in her doorway, two black bars of shadow covering her ‘bits’

A dreamy haze of neon smoke blankets the dance floor, glittering with the flashing glow of strobe lights. The atmosphere smells bittersweet and soft, almost velvety - it's a crowded room, full of gyrating bodies and the scent of sweat and the impossibly loud thrum of music. This isn't the first time Delsin has been to the club, in fact he's been a DJ here before, and it had been a haunt of his since moving to the city.

Standing off to the side, the deranged conduit watches the floor like a predator, his inner beast taking note of everyone and everything. Then he picks his prey, and the change is instantaneous; stalking forward, he drifts close to the person in rhythm to the music, brushing his hands against their arms and eyes meeting theirs, a smile painting his features.