spectrum of muses

[mugennoiro]

𝗠𝗨𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗡𝗢𝗜𝗥𝗢 — an independent, canon-divergent spectrum of muses across multiple fandoms. HIGHLY SELECTIVE. Mutuals only. OCs are heavily encouraged. Illustrated by B (they/them), 21+. Personals and those under 21, do not interact. Rules are listed below the cut. Please read them before following and interacting. 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗠𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗦: Nanami Kento and Takaba Fumihiko of Akutami Gege's Jujutsu Kaisen as well as Rudo Surebrec and Enjin of Urana Kei's Gachiakuta. DNI: KNY, SNK, CSM, BNHA/MHA, TADC, OPLA

roster ♨️ memes ♨️ interaction directory ♨️ interest tracker

⭐ I love SHIPPING. More importantly, I love CHEMISTRY. Ideally, we need to have some sort of rapport as muns. Chances are, if you're feeling a ship, I am, too. However, I NEED people to be transparent. I have no tolerance for the *wink wink* and *nudge nudge* routine. ⭐AUTONOMY is imperative. I don't tolerate cajoling or wording meant to limit the scope of how my character is allowed to feel. I am incompatible with that language. Similarly, language that is prescriptive (particularly over appearances: i.e. "the most captivating/beautiful/handsome" or "irresistable temptress") is not ok with me, as that language communicates to me that I am only allowed to agree. I am not here to capitulate; I am here to collaborate. If I feel as if autonomy is limited or I am being pushed toward filling a specific role or desire, I will hardblock. ⭐ SMUT is no-go for me. I have personal reasons for it. Please tag nsfw or usfw, just like any other trigger. I like my friends, but I prefer to avoid smut. I'm alright with light, suggestive conversation, however. ⭐SPECIFY when you send things. I don't want to pick a muse you aren't interested in. I'd really like to give you what you want, but I need a little help and communication figuring out what that is. Repeatedly refusing to specify or saying "idk you pick" will result in a hardblock. ⭐ DISCORD is for plotting/yapping/bonding. I do NOT write on discord. ⭐ This is a BIGOTRY-FREE ZONE . Take it elsewhere. This is NOT the blog you are looking for. ⭐Please tell me your TRIGGERS. I will tag them with "#tw (subject)". As for MY triggers, please tag cancer, infidelity, arranged marriage, thyroid diseases and pregnancy. Please also tag your usfw and nsfw content. ⭐ I will NOT participate in AFFILIATES, nor EXCLUSIVES/MAINS on this blog. It does not mean I do not like any of you, I just want to curate a space that feels comfortable and inclusive. ⭐ I prefer smaller, digestible threads. VIGNETTES, if you will. It's never been my style to have one long thread with 100+ replies. That's not something I'm comfortable with. ⭐ NOVELLA is not my jam. I am incompatible with both reading and writing novella replies. It is difficult for me to wrangle my attention span and actually absorb what I am reading. I am likely to miss something. If our writing styles are incompatible, that's ok. We are not obligated to write. This is a hobby. ⭐ I get OVERWHELMED easily. I essentially work 3 jobs (if you count student, if not then I have 2 jobs). I will periodically clear my drafts and clear threads. ⭐ QUEUE is something I stage replies in. It is easier for me to manage a schedule and keep a semblance of steady activity to stage my replies in a queue. The majority of my replies, barring occasional dash commentary or one-liners, are queue-based. ⭐ORIGINAL CHARACTERS? I love to interact with them! Often times, I prefer to interact with them over canons. However, if I am going to engage with an original character, I need there to be accesible, coherent information. If that's not there, it's a no go. ⭐IF YOU ROLEPLAY REAL PEOPLE, please do not follow this account. I will hardblock you. Do what you want, but I am not comfortable engaging with that. ⭐MUTUAL EFFORT is necessary. If it feels one-sided, and that the effort and desire to write is unmatched? I will not feel comfortable engaging with you and I will softblock (maybe even hardblock). Communication is important. Things happen, and that can affect the ability to communicate. If you need space? Speak up. If you have low energy, that’s fine too! Relationships of any kind cannot be sustained when one person is doing all of the legwork, however. Don't outsource the entire trajectory of a friendship on me.

[mugennoiro]

Neela does not handle being injured or ill well at all. It tears her up inside to feel like she can't be of use. The reasoning is varied throughout her different verses, but the common thread is the same: she fears abandonment when she is unable to do what ( she believes ) is expected of her. Specifically in her Gachiakuta verse, this has to do with being found on the brink of death in a No Man's Land, clinging to her father, who already passed. When she became a Giver, her hope was to heal people, to save them. It's a method of coping with loss that she was powerless to prevent. There's an irrational fear that if she is out of commission and cannot heal people, then she is useless. She is, once again, that little girl in the desert. She's also desperate to forge and foster connections, and deprioritizes her own needs as a result. All except the need for contact and connection. If she is not available to heal, however, then people will not come to her. It's not just that she'll lose business, she'll lose contact. In her mind, that's losing everything. That makes her useless.

[mugennoiro]

I'm so sorry. I had such a severe mood drop, and I'm trying my best not to start stimming and crying because my call time is in an hour. I really can't do anything today. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

[eyfay]

And i’ll kiss every scar on your body & soul to remind you that love doesn’t have to hurt.

[mugennoiro]

I’m working on replies in downtime at work, but I got hit with an uncomfortable, distressing feeling and tbh I kind of want to put my head down and time out of tumblr for a little bit.

[mythshire]

⋆ · 𖤓 · ⋆ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ··· a collection of soup gone cold and blankets shared, the intimacy of being cared for when you are at your worst. genre: romance, hurt and comfort, soft angst, domestic.

You're burning up. Don't argue with me. Get back in bed.

I made soup. It's not great. Eat it anyway.

You should have called me the moment you started feeling like this.

Stop trying to get up. There is nothing on this earth that needs you upright right now.

I found three blankets and a hot water bottle. Pick your combination.

You look terrible. I mean that with so much love.

Let me take your temperature. Stop being difficult about the thermometer.

I cancelled everything. Don't apologize. I wanted to be here.

You fell asleep mid-sentence. I stayed anyway. I hope that's okay.

Drink the tea. Yes, all of it. I'll make more.

I've been checking on you every hour. You keep telling me to go home. I keep not going.

Your voice sounds awful. Rest it. We can talk tomorrow.

I'm not going anywhere. Stop thanking me for staying.

You hate being taken care of. I know. Do it for me anyway.

The fever broke. I don't think you know how relieved I am right now.

Sleep. I'll be right here. I'll wake you up if anything changes.

I brought your favourite thing from the place on the corner. Don't cry. Please don't cry.

You're a terrible patient and somehow I still want to be the one doing this.

I know you think you're being a burden. You are not a burden.

Let me sit with you. I don't need to talk. I just don't want you to be alone.

You tried to make your own tea and you could barely stand up. Sit down. I've got it.

I've seen you strong. This doesn't make you weak. It just makes you human.

You smell like fever and you still somehow look like everything to me.

Lay your head here. Right here. I've got nowhere I need to be.

I brought every movie you've ever mentioned. We have time.

You're mumbling in your sleep. I'm not going to tell you what you said.

I changed the sheets while you were in the shower. Don't make it weird.

You need to eat something real. I know you don't want to. Eat something real.

I've been sitting in this chair for four hours. I'd do it four more.

Stop apologizing for being sick. People get sick. Let me help you.

Your hands are cold. Give them here. I'll warm them up.

I found the medicine in the back of the cabinet. Take it. All of it. Don't negotiate.

You're not inconveniencing me. Taking care of you is exactly where I want to be.

I didn't know you got like this when you were sick. Softer. I like knowing this about you.

You asked for me. Out of everyone, you asked for me. I haven't stopped thinking about that.

The heating pad is on the lowest setting. Tell me if you need it warmer.

I'm not leaving until your temperature is normal. Make your peace with that.

You cried a little when the soup was too hot to eat yet. I pretended not to notice.

I've never seen you let anyone take care of you before. I'm honoured. I mean that.

Your hair is a mess. Can I? Is that okay? Let me just — there.

You keep saying you're fine every time I check and you are so obviously not fine.

This is the third night in a row. I'm not going anywhere. Stop looking at me like that.

You're delirious and still trying to be funny. It's working. Please stop, I'm worried about you.

I learned how to make your mother's recipe. It took three attempts. Don't tell her.

There's nowhere I'd rather be than right here, even like this. Especially like this.

You always take care of everyone else. Just this once, let someone take care of you.

I left the light on in the hall in case you woke up scared. I remember you mentioned that once.

I'm here. I've got you. Just rest. Everything else can wait.

[promptcalender]

Soft Caretaking Dialogue

“Are you okay? Come here…”

“No, no, stay down. I’ll handle it.”

“Where were you? I was worried sick.”

“I made you some soup and tea…”

“Ssh… It’s okay…”

“You’ll freeze to death in that. Come, I have a change of clothes for you.”

“You look pale. When’s the last time you ate?”

“The ground doesn’t look very comfortable. Come on, put your head in my lap.”

“You’re freezing. Take my jacket.”

“Stay down, you idiot. You’re done for the day.”

“I got you.”

“Come on, let’s get you in bed.”

“What happened to you? You’re dripping! Did you not dress for the rain?”

“I got you flowers to aid in your recovery.”

“You look good like this. All careless and comfy…”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[Prompt Calender: June 7th, World Caring Day]

[mugennoiro]

AN INFORMAL PUBLIC APOLOGY TO LUKE: Sorry for making you and Maddie fall in love with Enjin.

-\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯ (I'm not sorry)

[mugennoiro]

Visions of Modern AU Enjin dance in my head. A man taking care of three teenagers that works a series of odd jobs to keep them all fed. Yes, good, this pleases me. I'll need to write a verse about this.

[mugennoiro]

Neela does not handle being injured or ill well at all. It tears her up inside to feel like she can't be of use. The reasoning is varied throughout her different verses, but the common thread is the same: she fears abandonment when she is unable to do what ( she believes ) is expected of her. Specifically in her Gachiakuta verse, this has to do with being found on the brink of death in a No Man's Land, clinging to her father, who already passed. When she became a Giver, her hope was to heal people, to save them. It's a method of coping with loss that she was powerless to prevent. There's an irrational fear that if she is out of commission and cannot heal people, then she is useless. She is, once again, that little girl in the desert. She's also desperate to forge and foster connections, and deprioritizes her own needs as a result. All except the need for contact and connection. If she is not available to heal, however, then people will not come to her. It's not just that she'll lose business, she'll lose contact. In her mind, that's losing everything. That makes her useless.

[mugennoiro]

THERE IS NO REASON to chide himself over it now. The deafening thrum in his skull is punishment enough, he decides. Drinking parties awakened a part of him he thought he had banished to dormancy. Curses could be exorcised without much effort, but apparently these demons . . . not so much. Usually, precautions were taken to mitigate the manifestation of such unpleasant after effects. Precautions that were unfortunately abandoned after the first five drinks. Still, he affirms it could have been much worse, even if his inner monologue alone was unbearably loud. Executive function abdicated its seat, leaving him to lounge in last night's clothes on his sofa. At the very least, this is his day off. That means he has all the time in the world to rest, relax, and proceed unbothered.

Solace is short-lived, however, when the knock at the door comes. A sound so sudden and so sharp he could swear the skin will crawl off his body. Apprehension shimmies up his spine, eliciting an immediate shiver. For fuck's sake. Animated solely by obligation, he cracks the door, careful not to reveal himself to the party on the other side. More importantly, not to exacerbate the tantrum his head is currently throwing. A light groan gurgles in his throat. Vocal cords, a bit worn from disuse and perhaps a caustic glaze of gastric juices, simmer with minimal signs of life when he speaks. "Is something the matter?" He rasps, impatience seeping through a normally polite presence. Could this not have been addressed in a text message?

open starter (mutuals only) verse: any!

[mugennoiro]

💌 @goldcnpeaks (Satoru) sent: 👐 (Neela) | send 👐 to cradle my muse's face. (always accepting!)

TRILLS AND LAUGHTER ERUPT! Ever the glutton for affection, Neela nestles into the hold of his large hands. Although the frenzied flaps of her wrists stops, her excitement does not. Instead, it manifests elsewhere. A slow, metronomic swish of her hips rapidly careens out of control. Neela is fully animated — in the throes of a full body wiggle.

“What’s this for? Do you have good news? Are we celebrating?” A fourth question comes to mind, evident in a pair of twinkling eyes “Can we celebrate with cake?”

[mugennoiro]

Okay, because I need to wake my brain up (summer semester starts Wednesday), I'm gonna rb some opens, probably link out my one-liner call...we'll see what's up. I will be culling some older drafts/things I can't really think for. I'm sorry, but I can't keep things in there indefinitely, because it just feels like unnecessary pressure in my head and that makes me not want to write or do anything. If I can't read it and think of a note or two to add, I can't just let it sit there and ferment. That's just not how I work.

[yuutaguro]

“I’m tired.”

[mugennoiro]

So, my body is not enjoying antihistamines, even though I’m enjoying not being so miserable. But I traded my coordination and ability to walk correctly, and man the sleepiness stays with you. I’m gonna do my best to hit replies and drafts but I cannot seem to do ANYTHING.

[mugennoiro]

💌 @goldcnpeaks (Satoru) sent: ❝ it might look like i’m innocently reading, but what i’m actually doing right now is watching the second season of the fresh prince of bel air. ❞ (Kento) | VSAUCE OUT OF CONTEXT SENTENCES (always accepting!)

EXASPERATION EXITS through his nose — a sharp, hefty exhale. Before he lays into the upperclassman, however, he lifts his head to survey his surroundings. Thankfully, there's nobody in their immediate vicinity. "What you're doing is distracting me," Kento hisses. His thumb and forefinger find the bridge of his nose and start to knead, though he's unsure that it will do anything to alleviate the eye strain from hours of studying.

A scathing sidelong glance falls on his colleague like a lash. The inquiry that rolls off his tongue is venomous: "Did it occur to you that people come to libraries to study in a quiet, peaceful environment?"

[mugennoiro]

💌 @logosmanteia (Fenriz) sent: 👐 (Neela) | send 👐 to cradle my muse's face. (always accepting!)

HIS WARMTH IS ENRAPTURING. All it takes is a touch to remind her how knackered she is. It's unexpectedly gentle, but wholly welcomed. The way his fingers sweep the underside of her jaw captures her instantly — she's spellbound. Thick flaxen lashes fall, dampening the weight of her wide umber eyes. Her eyelids feel as if they've become too heavy. She knows their collapse is inevitable, but she cannot bring herself to care. Her body slowly begins to cave and sag. Neela's arms wade to his sides —she needs an anchor before she sinks.

The ascent is equally slow: her hands surf every fold of fabric. She's swimming upstream, against the fatigue. Palms slide over the back of his hands then settle. A frictionless smile spreads across her lips. In her throat, a soft hum vibrates, warming her up for words. "S'it nap time?" Neela murmurs, "Can we take one together?"