#theladymuses

[crownshattered-a2]

@theladymuses inquired: “   i  notice  that  you  keep  looking  at  my  lips .   you’re  criminally  unsubtle .   ” for Childe ye (I've been gone centuries and have no clue what threadd I have with you so uhhhh this was cute sksks)

⁕| The Art of Domesticity |⁕

Deep blue eyes widened at her remark, and it was all the redhead could do not to blush at the directness of her statement--he was unsuccessful. Had he been staring..?? Tartaglia didn't think he was, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about her lips a few times in the past minutes...

It wasn't often that Tartaglia felt drawn to any one person in particular. His brain was structured around the idea of combat and bloodshed, but sometimes a few things did slip in. Normal things, as if he was a human being. It was nice to be reminded that he was indeed a human man, but...maybe not when it was at his own expense like this.

"Heh... Was I..?" Tartaglia replied with an awkward grin as he rubbed the back of his neck. He was known to be rather friendly towards his subordinates, but he never acted sheepish in front of them. The Harbinger willed his blush to die down as he gave Esme a better smile. He was well aware that he was attracted to her, but in this line of business... Would it be better to just ignore those feelings? "Actually, you had a snowflake on your lips...it was cute."

[predvestnik]

@theladymuses ( Esmé ) ♡’d this for a starter.

Though his hand's gone empty upon releasing what weighed in his grip, it's not the artifact clinking and shattering down the slope that has his full attention — objects have little value against what people can provide, their knowledge and abilities are far more precious than any relic. In his trade, disposing of it and whose story it tells is inconsequential, then.

His smile turns small, of someone who challenges, and his gaze is sharp on his company when it's time to move. Hopefully, Esmé is someone who can agree with his previous assessment. ❛ How much do you think that was worth? ❜

[shiiikigami]

❝ So, you're Gojo's ward! Joining next year, huh? ❞

— Bianca for baby Megs. I love him <3

the boy stared at her, unhappy with just being referred to as that guy's 'ward'. he could take care of himself, and he often did. he wasn't sure how much warding gojo-san did. then again, it was more than anyone else had ever done for him. he seemed to let it go, looking away.

"yes. i'm looking forward to getting a real education as a jujutsu sorcerer."

[crownshattered-arch]

@theladymuses inquired: [ BLOCK ]:    sender blocks an on-coming attack from the receiver. — Esmé to Childe, from here

Things Done While Fighting—No Longer Accepting

There weren’t many who could stand their own against the 11th Harbinger, and even fewer who were normal people. And yet, to his surprise, this woman was managing to stand her ground when sparring with him. He wasn't using too much power to go against her. It was a conscious effort to fight with the same capabilities as a normal human without his enhanced abilities as a Harbinger, but even then, he wasn't easy to beat even with "normal" strength.

"Not bad," the redhead replied as Esme blocked his attack and sent him back a few paces. She was strong, that's for sure... But was she strong enough? Maybe he should up the difficulty, even just by a bit. If she could handle him at this level of strength, could she still stand her ground if he tried harder?

So, he struck again, even faster this time and just barely faster than what was capable for a normal human being. They weren't using actual weapons since this was simply a sparring match--wanting to practice more with a spear, he was using a wooden pole--but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt to get hit. He didn't wish to actually harm her, but pain was inevitable. It acted as an incentive to learn.

[bemuseing]

Unprompted 🍂 @theladymuses sent:

❝ Akutagawa! ❞ Esmé's about to drag him into an ongoing argument as a means to prove her point. Her fingers snap in his direction to get his attention as she furrows her brows, ❝ Would you or would you not recommend using handcuffs to hold Dazai in the Port Mafia's basement? ❞

Calling his name should have been enough to get his attention; but he let the brief flicker of irritation he felt at the finger-snap pass.

❝ Handcuffs might be one measure employed to restrain him. But to think that sufficient on its own would be foolishness of the highest degree. ❞

To hold Dazai, once called the Port Mafia's demon prodigy, understood by none and feared by all? One would have to be deluded to think for a moment that he would let himself be caught and held so easily.

❝ Rather, you should be questioning how and why he fell into our hands to begin with, and how long until he leaves again. That man is crafty beyond the understanding of you or me. You should assume he was prepared to escape from the very start, no matter the level of security used. ❞

[whirling-fangs]

@theladymuses liked for an AU starter!

Inosuke had slayed countless of mindless beasts. Demons who had forgotten their humanity, reduced to bloodthirsty monsters, who sought nothing but to fill their endless appetite.

He took no pleasure in slaying those. It was a necessary task to accomplish, another step in his quest to get the world rid of those wretched creatures... but his true goal lay elsewhere.

He was after those who hid amongst the humans. Those who warped their lives in lies, those whose real goal wasn't only to feed, but to fool, to rule, to twist the minds of innocents before they devoured their flesh.

For weeks he had been stationed around this city, unable to shake off a slimey vibe from his skin. His acute senses carried his unease, as he explored and patrolled every night, avoiding human interaction as much as possible. Do not get attached. Do not make bonds. Such was his rule as he roamed the land, searching for his next target.

He was certain of it. As he broke into the opulent manor, and silenced the guards with a chop of his hand to the neck, he was convinced that he had come to the right place.

It didn't matter if the demon felt him approach. It was all the better, in fact. He had come here to end its wretched life, and he was going to make a quick job of it.

[ever-winter]

@theladymuses asked: 

[ LIVE ] for one muse to be injured by an antagonist and barely survive. — Esmé / Childe 

DARKER THRILLING PROMPTS

Unlike the other’s, Childe could be argued to have a soft side. It wasn’t that obvious, not unless it involved his family, as he tried not to allow emotions to get in the way of work - but it was clear that he cared for those who worked below him, perhaps a little more than the other Harbingers. Not that he would baby anyone who worked for the Fatui - but if they were injured, well, he was the type of Boss that would attempt to get them to safety. Sure, the mission would always come first, and yet, a barrier of water had formed around Esme as Childe rushed by her fallen form in order to take down the few men that still remained standing. It had been known that this mission would be rather difficult - but the strength of their target had still been an unwelcomed surprise. 

“Stay still”, he commanded, giving the woman one quick glance, electro energy forming around his form, before he once again vanished in a flash of purple light - a short scream from the distance heard as he struck the target who’d been foolish enough to believe themselves to be safe. The smell of blood and death filled the air, the injured were many, but it seemed as though most of the Fatui members would make it out alive.  Soon enough, Childe reappeared, sighing as he knelt down beside the barrier, the water dropping away as he silently looked over the wound she’d received. It didn’t seem to be fatal...but it was obvious that help would be needed. “I don’t think we have any healers still standing....so bear with me”. Turning, he barked some orders to those still able to move well enough to carry the injured, the Harbinger lifting Esme into his own arms as he lead the way out from the underground domain they’d been battling within. 

“Well - that was surprisingly rather fun”, he joked under his breath, honestly having found the experience rather enjoyable, even if there were many injured, including himself. It felt as though it was such a rare occurrence these days to find opponents that could truly get his heart racing like it currently was. 

[crownshattered-moved]

@theladymuses​​​​​​​ inquired: “   there’s  a  killer  storm  going  on  outside ,   so   unless  you  want  to  disappear  under  mysterious  circumstances ,   i  suggest  you  get  comfortable .   ” — Esmé to Tartaglia, from the sticky situations sentence starters. Them stuck somewhere during a storm in Snezhnaya???

Sticky Situation—No Longer Accepting

Was it just him or were the storms worse now than they were when he was a child.?? There have always been terrible blizzards in Snezhnaya for as long as Tartaglia had been alive. The land was trapped in an eternal winter, but that only allowed for Her Majesty to stretch her reach across the entire nation. He never minded the cold. It only weeded out the weak as far as he was concerned, and given that he had never lost any family--nor nearly lost anyone--to the frost, he didn’t care about how cold it was. Regardless...the storms felt harsher and more common now as opposed to back then. Maybe that was due to the fact that he was merely a child and didn’t pay that much attention to the world.

“No one would be able to see three meters in front of them in this snowstorm,” he mused mostly to himself as he looked out the frosted window. Leaving this shack they found would be useless. They would simply get lost in the storm and die a useless death. Or, at least she would...his body was modified to better withstand the cold. Regardless, he didn’t wish to force one of his subordinates into a useless death, so might as well stay here.

With a sigh, he stepped away from the window and walked towards the empty fireplace. The previous owners of this house must have died long ago, but at least they could use this place as shelter from the storm. He pulled a fire starter from his pocket and lit the fireplace. “There, that should help the cold. I don’t suppose you know any stories to pass the time at the fire, comrade?”