#; ida

[biiteme]

you’re such an idiot.

send “you’re such an idiot.” for my muse to tend to your muse’s wounds

@eversolo

Perhaps she should begin a tally of the days between when he shows up at the medcenter. She’s certain it wouldn’t go longer than a few days before starting over.

Ida’s eyes remain downcast as she carefully wraps his wounded hand. Her fingers are steady when she touches him, but the second they are removed perhaps he may notice the way they tremble. 

Their last meeting was not so pleasant. She wonders if he’d sought out her father, after learning of her traitorous mother. 

[biiteme]

; open; ida

She closes her book and places it on the table before looking up. 

“I suppose I’m not that busy.”

[biiteme]

; uneasy greetings

@elysiianisms

Her mother said her senses would feel heightened -- that she’d pick up on things she’d never thought about before. It will feel strange at first, she said, but eventually it will balance out. 

Nothing felt balanced about the man before her. 

She couldn’t put her finger on it. All the individual pieces -- tall stature, thick accent, coarse facial hair -- didn’t immediately point to untrustworthiness, but his presence leaves her on edge all the same. 

Still, Ida attempts a half-hearted curtsey and a polite smile. Her mother would surely prefer she at least attempt polite conversation. This is the man she considered so close to her, is he not?

“Dia duit.”

[biiteme]

//can’t-sleep-depression-episode-picrew-dump

bonus blind bb lost her contacts shot:

[biiteme]

“where does it hurt?”  / Otis n Ida!

@chroniicled

“Everywhere...” She grumbles softly.

She’d never ridden a horse before -- but her mother insisted she learn. Of course the first time she tries to get up on the saddle, the horse tosses her right back onto the ground. 

A low whimper as she sits up, holding her head in her hands. 

“They’re mean creatures... How did anyone think to get on top of one?”

[biiteme]

bold what applies to your muse , italicize what might apply .

MOSCHINO

an evening at the museum.  colours so bright they could blind your eyes.  embracing what’s peculiar about yourself. coloured crayons. cartoon eyes staring you back. calling extravagance a lifestyle.  a bored gaze.  a sudden,  outraged gasp. giving the people something to gossip about. an uncanny face to look at. dots,  spots and frills.  a painting,  dying to speak.  flowers made of paper.  training expressions in front of the mirror.  

CHANEL

breathing in the city air. glossy lipstick. a classic that screams modernity. grabbing the future,  making it yours.  a set of pearls against your collarbones.  a signature haircut.  an aura that radiates romance. naivety.  a perfectly arched cupid’s bow.  pink cotton candy.  a kiss against one’s cheek.  daisies and tulips. an unwanted guest.

GUCCI

walls so white you start seeing colors.  wearing your best clothes to the worst occasions.  a choker that’s just a little too tight.  a hurry taking no place at all.  running out of horror stories to tell.  slowly losing your mind.  a voiceless scream. wearing gloves,  just in case.  a broken record.  your phostumous set of memories.  hours that take too long to pass.   trusting your least reliable thoughts. bruised knuckles.

VERSACE

days well spent on a tropical landscape.  broad shoulders.  having no patience to wasting time.  a glare that says it all.  not being able to free your thoughts from your tasks.  making casual clothes fancy.  a closet full of purses. giving a pair of jeans a whole new meaning.  fake plants in a small apartment.  relying on what’s safe.

DIOR

braiding your hair before leaving the house.  sandals.  getting lost between the apple trees.  the way your skin tingles under the sun.  choosing to listen to what the woods whisper into your ear.  fairy circles.  fresh water against the skin.  carrying around a wicker basket.  long skirts in the summer.  a child-like innocence. golden jewellery. dancing to a flute heard from the distance.  peaches.

SAINT LAURENT

a cold,  wet night. lights too bright,  but you just can’t look away.  an empty house.  a chill kissing your skin.  to be consumed. sinking into melancholy. the darkest fabric,  flowing in the breeze.  a ghost-like figure.  looking in the mirror only to find emptiness.  something so beautiful,  yet so sad it makes your heart ache.  bathing in moonlight. a haunting voice and lullaby.  no color,  no light.  veins under thin skin.  grief.

TAGGED BY : @diviinitism​

TAGGING : @beefsolo​ @visiblekindness​ @ofzorii​ / @charredren​

[biiteme]

❝ i loved your mother. ❞ ( vikas and ida )

@elysiianisms

“And yet you killed her.”

It felt medieval almost, being kept the way she was. Her mother was long dead, Tomas and Vikas had proven successful in their goals. By now most of her family, save for Tomas and whoever may have sympathized with him, were likely dead. The only reason she’s not dead, she supposes, is the gifts she’s possessed since she was a fledgling.

Her cheek is pressed against the wall beside her, as she gazes with eyes half lidded at him. She can’t be left to her own devices, surely not, but it would be rather nice to be able to feed as she pleased. 

“Funny the way you treat women you love.”

[biiteme]

❝ if they do it again, you tell me. ❞ ( charlie to ida )

@elysiianisms

Ida lifts her chin to look up to her brother, fingers brushing at her dampened eyes. She allows her lips to pull into a small smile. 

“You won’t think less of me for not ‘handlin’ it?”