forevermuses

[forevermuses]

Multifandom multimuse / featuring muses from MCU, TMA and others / mutual exclusive / OC friendly / crossover friendly

Penned by Lina, she/her/idiot, 30+

CARRD link

[fiiishman]

[divinityrisen]

The situation was certainly not ideal, Aurius would admit. Beating a few men senseless (and to death, but let’s be honest: that is still senseless), was not the mistake which landed him behind bars – the mistake was being caught. His expression betrayed him to her: he was not as aloof nor playful as he ordinarily proved. His feelings on his detainment stood in sharp contrast to the elation of his psychotic acquaintance.

      As he sat against the far wall, making a pebble dance between his fingers, he still managed a smirk toward her idle threat. Yes, she could. But the result would be the same: her quest of genocide would be snuffed out.

      “Oh I have no doubt,” he said, voice a little hoarse because the guards’ duties did not extend to ensuring he had adequate drink. “But then you fail, milady. Because, let’s be honest, you’re about as subtle as a troll in rut. All tits and violence. People will be fleeing for the hills before you utter a threat.”

      “So,” Aurius flicked the pebble into the air and caught it. “Looks like your little quest relies on me. And I would like out, Your Ladyship.”

[forevermuses]

The trolls in rut comment does it.

Corlana flares with anger.

She lifts the blade and steps closer, reducing the distance between them until the toes of her boots touch the bottom of the iron bars.

"All tits and violence," she repeats, her voice dropping into a lethal purr. She tilts her head, her gaze dropping deliberately to his bruised knuckles, then trailing up to lock onto his eyes with a furious intensity. "And yet, I am standing out here in the fresh air, while the clever little fox is locked in a cage, nursing a dry throat and playing with rocks."

Corlana leans in, gripping two of the iron bars with her free hand, her face just inches from the barrier between them. The sneer returns, sharper this time, cutting through her mock-amusement.

"Do not mistake my need for your compliance with a lack of options, Aurius. You think you're the only rat in this city who knows how to whisper secrets? You're just the one I happened across first. I can always leave you there and find another. If you want out, you're going to play by my rules."

[spitblossoms]

[baltimorerat]

huh/what pronouns

[mantcdea]

@forevermuses (Peter) sent: “If you poke me one more time, I’m going to start poking you back and it's not gonna be fun.”

celestial siblings celestial siblings | accepting

Hands fly up in a gesture meant to be placating, eyes narrowing playfully as she studies her brother's reaction. Sometimes she struggles to remember they are family. Most days, she struggles to remember anything about her own life, as her mind is constantly barraged by infinite scenarios from other timelines.

And yet, despite being overburdened, despite the heavy tug of the multiverse, despite seeing it all even with her eyes closed, Mantis still finds time to tease her brother.

"All right, all right, calm down," she says in a deceptively appeasing tone, amusement gleaming in her eyea. "I was only trying to figure out whether you are another vision. You are quite persistent — in every universe."

[forevermuses]

Peter scoffs, a sharp bark of laughter escaping him. He rolls his eyes, but there's a fond warmth softening the feigned exasperation on his face. No matter how weird things get for him, Mantis always manages to keep him grounded, even when she's actively being a pest.

That's what having a sibling is all about, though, isn't it? Being fucking annoying and endearing at the same time. He can only hope he has the same effect on her.

"Oh, ha-ha. Hilarious," he says, taking a step closer and crossing his arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "For your information, I am one hundred percent real. There is only one Peter Quill standing in front of you right now, and he's the one who has to listen to you compare him to a those suckier versions of him from your visions."

He lets his arms drop, his expression shifting from playful mock-offense to a more genuine concern. He is always painfully aware of the weight she carries and can't even begin to comprehend the noise in her head, the constant reel of worlds that never were or might never be.

"But seriously," Peter adds. "Persistent? Is that what the other me's are doing? Because if alternate-universe Quill is bothering you I want to have a little chat with him."

[forevermuses]

// busting out the incredible pride icon my bestie made me some time ago hehehe

[forevermuses]

The comms-link sputters with static, cutting through the gentle hum of the ship's cockpit just in time for Peter to catch Gamora's casual, ice-cold sign-off.

Peter freezes mid-movement, his finger hovering over the master console. He blinks, and then squints in no particular direction, processing what she's just said.

"Wait, what? Gamora, no---"

The line clicks dead, his words interrupted and unheard. Or both. Most likely both.

He lets out a sharp breath and rubs the bridge of his nose. Of course. A simple scouting mission on a backwater trading post, and within twenty minutes, she's racking up a body count. Without him! He shouldn't be surprised, really, but her sheer business-as-usual nonchalance still manages to give him whiplash.

And a flutter to his stomach, but that's not important right now.

With a decisive nod, Peter slaps his thighs and stands up from the pilot's chair. He hits the comms button again, leaning over the console.

"Hey, deadly-and-dangerous," he says, switching to the ship's external frequency. "Just so we're clear, 'hold please' usually applies to when you're busy and have to take a piss, not putting a blade through a guy's ribcage. Who are we killing?"

[stxincd]

Pretend you're spotless, but I don't wash away. And now you're stained. ---- And now you're stained.

stxincd - indie, mutuals-only, selective and heavily headcanon-based multimuse feat. muses from a variety of fandoms, such as: Ilya Rozanov & Shane Hollander (Heated Rivalry), William Tell (The Card Counter), Santiago Garcia (Triple Frontier), Khan Noonien Singh (Star Trek Into Darkness), Abel Morales (A Most Violent Year) and Kane (Annihilation).

Written by P. aka Pumme, 18+, no minors. 15+ yrs of RP experience.

[kosmogrl]

get in loser we’re gonna try again despite it all

[forevermuses]

indie multimuse rp blog | feat. marvel, the magnus archives, dungeon meshi, arcane, and more | carrd

[rpmemes-galore]

for muses who don't understand the meaning of the phrase ' take a break ' ... sentence starters

"Why don't you just sleep?"

"Hey... hey! You're dozing off, again."

"I brought you something to eat / drink."

"The work will still be here after you rest."

"You haven't moved since I left, have you?"

"Stand up, walk around the table, at least."

"Put down the pen. You can finish that later."

"Yeah, you'll get this done, but at what cost?"

"I don't like when you get lost in work like this."

"Close your laptop. I'm mandating you a break."

"You really don't know how to take it easy, do you?"

"You have a headache? Have you had any water lately?"

"Working yourself into the ground isn't going to help anyone."

"I'm worries about you. You look like you haven't slept in days."

"If you're gonna keep working, do you at least want some coffee?"

"When was the last time you had something to eat? Or a shower?"

"Of course your eyes hurt, you've been staring at the screen for hours."

"You fell asleep on your paperwork. You need to take some time for yourself."

"You're barely staying upright. You need to lie down, they can function without you long enough for you to take a nap."

actions

send (pluck) for sender's muse to take paperwork / pen / computer mouse away from receiver's muse.

send (hidden) for sender's muse to hide receiver's phone / writing tools in hopes of getting them to relax

send (barricade) for sender's muse to block the doorway and not let receiver's muse leave until they agree to rest

send (pillow) for sender's muse to tuck a shirt or cushion under receiver muse's head when they doze off mid-work

send (nourish) for sender's muse to set food down in front of receiver's muse, because they haven't eaten in hours

[enchantedbook]

'Haunted Mansion' by Ken Anderson

[deadbaguette]

Drew the Parker design of @pikachic !! Obsessed with his clothes burning like joss paper and him smoking like incense I need to be put DOWN❤️❤️❤️❤️

[raesource]

questions only sentence starters

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the sentence starters are being sent for .

who . . .

“ Who are you? ”

“ Who do you serve? ”

“ Who taught you that? ”

“ Who’s really in control here? ”

“ Who are you running from? ”

“ Who did this to you? ”

“ Who’s coming for us? ”

“ Who do you think I am? ”

“ Who else knows about this? ”

“ Who are you trying to protect? ”

what . . .

“ What are you? ”

“ What do you want from me? ”

“ What are you hiding? ”

“ What were you planning to do? ”

“ What just happened? ”

“ What did you see back there? ”

“ What did you promise them? ”

“ What happens if I don’t let you go? ”

“ What are the rules I’m not supposed to break? ”

“ What happens after the portal closes? ”

where . . .

“ Where did you come from? ”

“ Where are we? ”

“ Where are you going? ”

“ Where were you when it happened? ”

“ Where does this path lead? ”

“ Where did you get that scar? ”

“ Where is everyone else? ”

“ Where should I stand? ”

“ Where did you put the body? ”

“ Where were you hiding all this time? ”

when . . .

“ When did this start? ”

“ When were you going to tell me? ”

“ When was the last time you felt safe? ”

“ When do we leave? ”

“ When did you stop trusting me? ”

“ When does this end? ”

“ When did you realise the truth? ”

“ When do things go wrong? ”

“ When did you choose this path? ”

“ When will you look at me and be honest? ”

how . . .

“ How long have you been watching me? ”

“ How did you survive? ”

“ How much do you remember? ”

“ How are you this calm right now? ”

“ How bad is it? ”

“ How did you know my name? ”

“ How far are you willing to go? ”

“ How many lies have you told me? ”

“ How do you live with this? ”

“ How are we supposed to fix this? ”

are . . .

“ Are you human? ”

“ Are you okay? ”

“ Are you lying to me right now? ”

“ Are you scared? ”

“ Are you tired? ”

“ Are you hiding something? ”

“ Are you bound by oath or by magic? ”

“ Are you trying to start a fight? ”

“ Are you always this dramatic? ”

“ Are you going to explain or just stare? ”

do . . .

“ Do you trust me? ”

“ Do you remember your name? ”

“ Do you remember me? ”

“ Do you miss them? ”

“ Do you always talk this much? ”

“ Do you have any idea what you just did? ”

“ Do you ever sleep? ”

“ Do you want me to stay? ”

“ Do you think I’m stupid? ”

“ Do you believe in fate? ”

have . . .

“ Have you eaten yet? ”

“ Have we met before? ”

“ Have you been here long? ”

“ Have you done this before? ”

“ Have you ever killed someone? ”

“ Have you been lying to me? ”

“ Have you lost anyone? ”

“ Have you forgiven yourself? ”

“ Have you always been like this? ”

“ Have you already chosen a side? ”

is . . .

“ Is this place real? ”

“ Is something bothering you? ”

“ Is that weapon even legal here? ”

“ Is this your idea of a joke? ”

“ Is this your way of flirting? ”

“ Is someone watching us? ”

“ Is it supposed to hurt like this? ”

“ Is there a way out? ”

“ Is this what you wanted? ”

“ Is it too late to turn back? ”

can . . .

“ Can I ask you a weird question? ”

“ Can you hear that? ”

“ Can I trust you? ”

“ Can you keep a secret? ”

“ Can we slow down? ”

“ Can you help me bury a body? ”

“ Can you look at me? ”

“ Can we talk about what happened? ”

“ Can you stop pretending? ”

“ Can you promise me something? ”

will . . .

“ Will you stay with me? ”

“ Will you tell me the truth? ”

“ Will this ever end? ”

“ Will you protect me? ”

“ Will they come back for us? ”

“ Will you remember me? ”

“ Will you choose a side? ”

“ Will you regret this? ”

“ Will you still look at me the same way? ”

“ Will you stop me if I’m wrong? ”

should . . .

“ Should I be worried? ”

“ Should we be running? ”

“ Should I follow you? ”

“ Should I be afraid of you? ”

“ Should we pretend this never happened? ”

“ Should I stay or go? ”

“ Should I believe you? ”

“ Should I be honest with you? ”

“ Should we trust them? ”

“ Should I have come here? ”

would . . .

“ Would you do it again? ”

“ Would you lie to protect me? ”

“ Would this have been different if I had stayed? ”

“ Would you really let me die? ”

“ Would you have saved them instead? ”

“ Would you still care if you knew the truth? ”

“ Would you leave if I asked? ”

“ Would this hurt less if I understood? ”

“ Would you forgive me? ”

“ Would you choose me this time? ”

could . . .

“ Could you survive without me? ”

“ Could this world exist without you? ”

“ Could this get any worse? ”

“ Could you teach me how to do that? ”

“ Could you be wrong? ”

“ Could you be lying to yourself? ”

“ Could you forgive them? ”

“ Could this be a trap? ”

“ Could you handle the truth if I told you? ”

“ Could you live with the consequences? ”

[gacougnol]

Félix Vallotton

The Wind

1910

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

@forevermuses

The hour before dawn had long since become James Norrington’s least favorite part of eternity. The quiet after. The stillness that came once the screaming stopped, once the pulse beneath his hands ceased its frantic fluttering and the body slackened into something useless.

It left too much room to think.

The manor was silent as he entered through the rear corridor, boots tracking rainwater and diluted blood across black marble. Somewhere beyond the storm-dark windows, the city continued in blissful ignorance, unaware that one more unfortunate soul had vanished into the night for the crime of being inconvenient enough to catch his attention and picking another's pocket.

Once, there had been restraint.

Once, Commodore James Norrington had believed deeply in justice, in mercy, in protecting the innocent with unwavering conviction. He had agonized over every death laid at his feet. Even after his turning, remnants of that man had lingered stubbornly within him like embers refusing to die.

Now?

Now the monster wore his face more comfortably than the human ever did.

James removed his gloves with slow, practiced motions, tossing the leather onto a nearby chair. Blood had seeped through the seams again. A nuisance. The scent clung to him thickly, copper and salt soaked into cuffs and skin alike.

He crossed toward the wash basin, pausing only long enough to glance at his reflection in the mirror above it.

Nothing stared back. A vampire had no soul, nor reflection in silver backed mirrors. That, at least, spared him the indignity of witnessing what he had become. The body may walk but this creature was the façade of the spirit once inhabiting it.

The water ran crimson as he scrubbed his hands clean because dried blood was difficult to remove later. There had been a time he would have recited prayers during moments like this. Begged forgiveness from a God who surely stopped listening centuries ago.

Tonight, he only felt tired. The pull of the sun threatening him as it had done for some time now.

@forevermuses

[forevermuses]

The crimson ribbons in the wash basin swirl and dissolve, but the mirror above it does not remain empty.

As James shakes the water from his scrubbed hands, a shape emerges in the glass. It is not the hollow man that currently inhabits his flesh, but what seems to be an image drawn from the well of his own memory.

Standing within the frame is Commodore James Norrington.

The reflection wears the immaculate blue and white of the Royal Navy, every gold button polished to a blinding sheen, the powdered wig perfectly set, and the sword hilt resting righteously at his hip. There is no blood on this man's hands, or, at least, none that is visible. He is the very picture of James' past, save for one thing: his eyes are heavy with a profound disappointment.

"Look at you," the Commodore says. "Scrubbing the filth from your fingernails like a butcher at the end of a day's work. Is this the eternity you bargained for, Norrington?"