#(When it comes to muses: Those would be their pronouns instead of yours)

[battle-subway-ghost]

>> Ḩ̴͎͈̭̩̟̩̦́̐͑̄̀̚̚͘͝Ɔ̶̤̠̝̆̀̍̈͂̈̿́̏͘Ǝ̷̢̩̞͈̹͓̀W̵̛͕̫͉̩̣͚͓͕̔ͅͅᴚ̸̯̖͒̏̅͗̾̈́͠I̷̧̙̦̯͚̖͊̾̓̑͆̓̾̕͝͝∀̵̩̹̪͚̻̯̈̐͐̐͌͜͝Ⅎ̶̢͎̭̻̌̒́͛͆̒ͅͅ "The Fox" is now open for questioning.<<

#Greyed Walls Event #The Fox Speaks #// Once again- another reminder that the Fox uses Mirror Pronouns! Whatever pronouns you use you should use for them #(When it comes to muses: Those would be their pronouns instead of yours) #// Goddd okay. its finally done. after so many yearsssss (/j) #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #long post

[multi-fandom-of-madness]

Forbidden Fruit

Pairings: Copia X AFAB!Reader Type: Smut Summary: Copia loves bending it over onstage, and you just need to show that ass some appreciation. Warnings: Eating out and pegging Word Count: 2834 Notes: Read here on ao3. This is an AFAB!Reader story, but I don’t think it has specific pronouns. If you want to read this with different pronouns or as an AMAB!Reader story, literally hit me up, and I will send you that version, or repost it. Please don’t be shy in that regard :) Also, I’m going to be real, I wrote this so long ago, I just never ended up posting it (it was literally my first time writing smut), so I don’t really remember a lot of what happens here.

~

There were nights where it was difficult to be away from Copia. Especially with him constantly gone on tour, leaving you with nothing to do. Sure you could try to do some chores with the siblings, or garden with Primo, or just do literally anything, but that never seemed enticing enough.

Instead, you just decided scrolling through TikTok would be a better idea because on occasion, Copia’s gorgeous face would pop up and make the day better. Not that you did that all day every day, but a good portion of your day was spent scrolling on that god awful app.

When Copia finally got his break, you were beyond excited for him to spend his time with you while he prepared for the US leg of the tour.

Copia was beyond relieved when he got out of the car and saw you running towards him, jumping in his arms for a hug and a kiss.

“Did you miss me, dolce?” He asked, gently laughing and holding you tightly.

“Of course I didn’t. I just wanted to run and hug you and never let you go because I hate you,” you joked, knowing he would get a laugh out of the cheesy statement. He let you go, placing a hand on your cheek and smiled. You held his hand to your face and melted into his touch.

“Well I missed you, amore mio. Come, let’s sneak away and leave the ghouls to do the unpacking.”

“How could I say no?” You giggled, pulling him into the Ministry without another word.

He followed along, pleased with how happy you were to see him. When you finally got to the bedroom, he quickly undressed, getting into more comfortable clothing, and laid down, pulling you close to him. “How are you more gorgeous each time I return?” He asked, pulling you into a kiss, then trailing down to nip at your neck and collar. “I could just eat you up,” he chuckled.

“Copia,” you said, sucking in a breath.

He looked up. “Hm?”

“Fuck, I missed you,” you responded, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

“Care to show me just how much my dolcezza missed me?” He chuckled, pulling away.

The moment he pulled away, you flipped him over, sitting on his lap. “You know, you had no reason putting on these pajamas when you knew I would be pulling them off anyways,” you said, pulling off his shirt.

“Maybe you are right,” he said, grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him. “Maybe I just wanted to have you undress me,” he smirked, kissing you again. Rolling your eyes, you kissed him back, moving only to tug his pants off so that he was clad in only his boxers. “I feel that you are a little overdressed for this occasion, tesoro.”

“Well maybe I need someone to help me with th-” He wasted no time in flipping you over, pulling off your shirt and shorts, leaving you exposed except for your underwear. “Well someone’s eager.”

“I have been without you for far too long. I’m not delaying this any longer,” he said, ripping your panties off next.

“Those were expensive!” You gasped, playfully shoving him.

“I will buy you new ones,” he dismissed, flipping you over, trailing kisses down your body until he reached your dripping cunt. “So wet,” he mused, sliding a finger through your slick. “All for me?”

“Oh, fuck, yes. All for you,” you moaned, back arching at the contact. He brought his finger to his lips, moaning when the taste of you hit his tongue.

“I’ve been craving a taste of my favorite dish. I’ve waited far too long,” he said, burying his face in your cunt.

His tongue worked magic, swirling around your clit as he pressed one finger into your entrance. You grabbed a handful of his hair, eliciting a groan from him that vibrated through your entire body. “Oh sweet Lucifer,” you moaned, grinding against his face. He pushed another finger in, angling directly for that sweet spot he knew would have you melting into the bed.

He kept his eyes on you as you squeezed yours shut. He pumped his fingers in and out while he continued to eat you out like a man starved. The noises the two of you were making were downright filthy. He was drawing moans out of you, his fingers making squelching sounds as he fucked you with them.

“Shit shit shit, yeah right there,” you chanted as you felt a familiar coil building in your stomach.

“Are you going to cum?” He asked, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you. “Going to cum all over my face and my fingers?”

“Fuck!” You shouted as he dived back into your pussy, clenching around his fingers. “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, unholy fuck!”

“That's it. Cum for me,” he said, sucking your clit with more fervor and angling his fingers just right. It was enough to send you over the edge. He worked you through your orgasm, and only pulled away once you started flinching from overstimulation. “That’s it. Good girl,” he praised, coming to lay next to you as you came down from your orgasm. He put a gentle hand on your chin and pulled your face to look at him, then pulled you into a sweet kiss.

You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, and he pulled back with a chuckle. “Ready for round two?” He smirked.

With a nod, you knew it was bound to be a long night.

—

Quiet time was valued by you and Copia both. A way to destress with each other and just chill out without having to talk or do anything. He had been reading a book for the past thirty minutes while you scrolled through your most recent addiction that is the app TikTok – with headphones on of course. There was no reason to disturb the peace.

While scrolling, you found countless baking videos, some BookTok videos, cosplay, but most importantly…tour videos.

A lot of them were with the ghouls being chaotic demons onstage. They were entertaining, but what piqued your interest most was the Copia clip that popped up.

Adjusting your posture, you watched what the creator called a ‘crack video’ of the random things that happened during Mummy Dust.

Some of it was the ghouls, Dewdrop slamming his fist into his guitar, reaching for a person in the crowd, and then jerking off in time to ‘cum’ with the confetti. Or Phantom holding his guitar at weird angles, posing with an oddly threatening aura, or trying out some new hip thrusts. Even Rain and Cirrus had their moments in the video.

But what interested you the most was when Copia popped up. He was just as chaotic as the ghouls. Growling, thrusting, slapping imaginary asses, and fingering the air. But it couldn’t get any better when you saw the perfect angle of someone filming as he bent over, wiggling his ass back and forth as if taunting someone to come and fuck him.

Someone coming up, bending him over the bed, moving their hand from his groping his ass to roaming up his spine, then pressing his head in the bed as they fucked him…Sathanas…what an image…

Clenching your thighs together, you watched as he began to bend forward, sticking his perfect ass out for everyone to ogle. And fuck did he look good. Every curve of him made your mouth water. It was too much just to look at, but you couldn’t look away as he wiggled his ass. He looked absolutely delectable.

 A small moan slipped out of your mouth at the thought of pounding him into neck week, and Copia gave you a look.

“Everything alright, amore mio?” He asked, placing a bookmark in his book and setting it aside as he looked at your phone and removed your headphones.

“How have I never seen this before?” You mused, looking at him with a mischievous grin.

“Ah, so I have caught your attention?”

You rolled your eyes. “When do you not?” You paused and looked at him, admiring his unpainted face and mismatched eyes.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I want to fuck you,” you stated bluntly.

“Well, I am happy to let you climb on to-”

“No. I want to fuck you.”

He gave you a confused look, and you slid off the bed, going to look for the box you had hidden in your dresser. You set it on the bed, then crawled on top of him. He placed his hands on your hips as you began rocking against him, his cock quickly hardening at your movements. “Amore…”

Leaning in to kiss him, you let a small moan slip through your lips. “I want to fucking devour you. Every inch of you is absolutely perfect. Please, Copia, let me…”

“I need a little more context, yes?” He chuckled, nipping at your neck. “What’s in that box, il mio cuore?”

You brought one hand back, blindly searching as you kept your eyes on him and leaning in for another kiss. When you opened it, his eyes went wide.

A nicely sized black dildo, harness, and a bottle of lube were all that was in the box. ‘Oh,” is all he said.

“You can say no.” He just stared at you and the contents of the box dumbly. “Copia?”

“Cazzo,” he cursed. “Si, yes, please,” he said, quickly scrambling to remove his clothes.

A chuckle escaped your lips as you grabbed both of his hands, then leaned in to nip at his neck. “Let me worship you,” you whispered.

He visibly shuddered. “Please,” he begged. You began unbuttoning his pajama shirt, trailing sloppy kisses from his neck to his stomach, leaving practically no bit of skin dry. You made sure to pay close attention to his nipples, biting at one and pinching the other, then switching every few moments. Finally, you made your way to the waistband of his pants. Sitting up, you gently pull the fabric off of him. Of course, no underwear. What was the need when he was next to you? Made for easy access.

You stripped him fully, then began gripping his thighs, appreciating how meaty they were. He let out a moan when you dug your nails in slightly, causing his back to arch.

“Please, amore. I need you,” he moaned, his hands desperately reaching out for you.

“Not yet, darling. I said I wanted to worship you, and I meant it.” Sliding down his body some more, you made your way to his calves. They were so defined that you couldn’t help but press kisses to the soft skin. You trailed kisses back up to his thighs, then began biting, enjoying the way that he bruised easily, allowing you to mark him however you pleased.

He was moaning and desperate, and you knew this was just getting to the point of annoying teasing, which isn’t the intended goal. Bringing one hand to cup his balls, you licked a long stripe up his cock, taking the head in your mouth and swirling your tongue in ways that made him see stars.

“Vita mia-” he moaned, cut off when you took him fully into your mouth. He laced a hand through your hair to steady himself. “Please, I want to en-enjoy you. I’m going to cum if you -if you keep doing that.” 

Although he asked for it, he whined and bucked his hips when you pulled off. “Bend over the bed,” you commanded, and he couldn’t help but obey. He looked like a desperate whore with how fast he slid off the bed and stuck his ass out, but this wasn’t the time for degradation. This was time for worship. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” you whispered, bringing hands up to knead into his ass. “So perfect~”

“All for you,” he breathed out, trying to push his ass further into your hands.

“All for me, but you’re the one flaunting it onstage. Are you really that needy for attention?” He whined in response. “I’ll give you attention, darling…don’t worry,” you assured, grabbing the bottle of lube from the box. Slicking up your fingers, you smeared some around his hole, causing him to lurch forward at the sensation. “Color?” You asked as you began hooking the dildo into the harness and sliding it on.

“Green,” he huffed out, already overwhelmed by the simple touches he’s received.

With his confirmation, you pressed one finger into him, enjoying the way he clenched at the sudden intrusion. He let out a groan and tried pushing himself back. You placed a hand on his hips to still him, then began thrusting the single finger before adding a second, alternating between thrusting and scissoring to stretch him open. 

“Please, I’m ready. I need you,” he moaned, pushing back against your fingers. He let out a sad noise as you retracted them.

Smearing whatever lube was left on your fingers and a bit more poured from the bottle, you lined up with his hole, barely pressing the head of the dildo into him. He let out a whine, and tried pushing back.

You put a hand on his hip and leaned to whisper in his ear. “Settle,” you said as you began pushing in. He grabbed the bed sheets, twisting them in his hands as you moved. You got about an inch in, then pulled out slightly, and pushed forward more, until it got to the point where your thighs were touching the meat of his ass.

“Your fucking ass is…sathanas this is fucking amazing,” you said, letting the dildo sit in his ass as if he were nothing more than a cockwarmer.

He moaned in response, trying to move on the dildo on his own, prompting you to move. Starting slow, you thrusted forward, eliciting a delicious groan from him. “Amore mio, please…more…” he begged, letting his head fall to the bed, muffling his noises.

Gently, you turned his head to the side, examining his handsome face as you stared in his glassy eyes. “Don’t hide those pretty noises, darling,” you said, punctuating the end of the sentence with a gentle thrust.

He let out a surprised moan, and lost control of what spilled from his mouth.

“You’re so pretty from here. Sathanas, how have I never done this before?” You asked, picking up the pace, punching out moans and grunts. “Taking me so well. Like you were built to be fucked.”

He let out a spent “uh-huh,” in response, fisting the bedsheets and closing his eyes.

“Bet this is what you think about on that stage. Getting dicked down. Wanted to be bent over, and let everyone see just how good you are. So fucking good.”

“Please, tesoro, I need more,” he pleaded. And who were you to resist such a beautiful plea?

One hand trailed up his back, while the other reached around to stroke his cock, which was slick with pre. He was absolutely dripping. It was such a beautiful thing.

He let out a high pitch moan once you hit his prostate dead on. “Yeah? Like that?” He nodded. “Fuck, Copia, you’re so beautiful like this. Laid out and bare, letting me treat you how you deserve. So good.”

There was an attempt to match the pace of stroking his dick in time with your thrusts, but it didn’t last long when you kept nailing directly into his prostate, and his hips began moving on their own.

“Amore, please, can I cum? I need to cum,” he asked, bouncing back on the silicone, not letting you keep your pace.

“Cum for me. Show me how good I’m making you feel.” You twisted your wrist, jacking him off at a simple pace, then swiping a thumb over the tip.

He shuddered and tensed, streams of white covering your knuckles. You fucked him through the orgasm, only getting slower when he began to twitch from the overstimulation.

Carefully, you pulled out, then removed the harness. He stayed in the position until you helped him move to lay on the bed.

He looked practically ruined, and oh so beautiful. “I’m going to grab a washcloth, love, I’ll be back,” you said, slipping off to the bathroom.

He looked half asleep when you came back, and you gently tapped his cheek. “Still with me?” He nodded. “Good.” You took the wash cloth and began wiping him down. You laid next to him, whispering praise while you stroked his peppered hair.

After a few minutes, he came back down to earth. “You didn’t cum,” he said, cuddling into you.

“I wasn’t doing that for me,” you responded, wrapping an arm around him.

“And if I asked to eat you out?”

“Then I would be a fool to say no,” you laughed. He grinned before disappearing between your thighs.

You would definitely be doing this again.

#bat writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost #ghost x reader #the band ghost x reader #nameless ghouls x reader #cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #papa copia #papa copia x reader #copia #copia x reader #papa iv #papa iv x reader #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #popia #popia x reader

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Miracle - Ch.3

Morpheus (Dream of the Endless) x reader (no gender/pronouns mentioned)

Summary: You and Morpheus adjust to life as parents and repairing sibling relationships when Desire calls in their favour. Warnings: canon-typical magic, small fight (choking) WC: 3230

Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || Ch.6

The day was as perfect as any that you or Morpheus could have created. The sun was shining and the park was filled with mortals socialising and having fun, it was just right for a family walk in The Waking. 

Dream’s hand warmed yours as they swung lazily intertwined, his other gripping the stroller and guiding it along the path. 

“Don’t you get hot wearing all those layers?”

“No,” Dream said with a hint of a smile. “Watching you take them all off me, however…”

He chuckled as his words had the desired effect and you lightly slapped his arm as your heartbeat raced with the idea. 

“Not in front of our baby girl,” you shhh’d him. “She’s too innocent to hear the filth that comes out of your mouth.”

His eyes peeked into the stroller and caught Hope’s, his smile growing wide until something caught his attention and his hand shot out to catch a wayward hacky sack that had flown towards her. Tossing it back without a word, the man stammered his apologies before hurriedly backing away. 

“Poor boy is going to have nightmares now.” 

“You think I am that cruel?” He dared with an arched eyebrow.

“No, my love,” you cooed, cuddling into his side and giving him a squeeze, “I think you are that petty.”

Your laughter filled the park as his long fingers tickled your ribs and he froze as he saw the effect it had on everyone around. Flowers sprang from the grass, a chorus of birds sung in harmony and smiles grew on everyone's faces. You had forgotten how tightly you had to hold the leash on your power in The Waking, especially after experiencing complete freedom in The Dreaming. 

You turned, taking in the scene until you reached Dream’s small apologetic smile. “If anyone asks any questions, I’m blaming you.”

His arm draped over your shoulders and his lips caressed your temple before he whispered in your ear, “I would gladly take the blame for causing you such joy.”

You continued on your walk once again, under the comforting weight of his arm and listening to the quiet reflections Dream murmured in your ear as he watched the mortals along the way. The afternoon was lost to his musings, his ability to know each and everyone of their names and dreams never ceasing to surprise you. Morpheus particularly enjoyed shocking you by pointing out dreamers like the happy-go-lucky teenage girl giggling with her friends, how she spent her nights ripping wings off butterflies. 

“That’s certainly morbid,” you said with a grimace before jutting your head at a gnarly looking man resting against his motorcycle. “What about him?”

“Kittens.”

You couldn’t tell if he was joking but you could see his eyes gleaming with mischief as if he was daring you to question him. His eyes watched your lips part to ask if he was sure but instead you gave him a quick kiss and said, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“There you are,” you exclaimed when you finally found Lucienne shelving books deep in the heart of the library. “I need your help.”

“Matthew said you would be coming,” she sighed but a hint of amusement turned it to a chuckle. “Yes, Mr Jarry dreams about kittens - particularly riding in a basket in front of his motorcycle.”

“Dammit, remind me never to play poker with Dream. Thanks, Lucienne.” 

She nodded with a smile before glancing back down at the book spines and continuing on her way. Unfurling your wings, you raced Matthew back to The Waking and found Dream deep in contemplation as he sat on a bench and fed the pigeons, Hope asleep in the stroller parked beside him. 

“You wanna get in there?” you asked the raven that hopped along behind you as you nodded your head to the swarm of birds before Dream.

“I am not a mindless pigeon, thank you very much. I would rather eat my own-” Matthew lost his train of thought as Dream tossed a crumb his way and the raven dove head first into the fray, cawing at the pigeons that got in his way. The black feathered bird paused only for a moment as he narrowed his beady eyes and opened his beak to say, “I’ll remember this, Dream.”

Dream’s deep laugh rumbled across the field and he sat back in the chair, beckoning you closer to chase away the shadows that lingered in his eyes. He still struggled to keep control of his thoughts when you were apart, they were always filling his mind with worst-case scenarios, but you were working through it with him. That century he spent caged in a basement had left deep, deep scars on his mentality. 

“I’m back,” you said gently as you took a seat on his lap. Resting your palm to his cheek, you thumbed the line of his cheekbone and he relaxed at the touch. The tension left his body and he let out a shuddering sigh, releasing him from the fear that had gripped him from the moment you left. 

Another deep breath and the light returned to his eyes along with a knowing smirk, “And?” 

You rolled your eyes and playfully nudged his side through the long leather cloak that hung around him. “You were right.” 

His lips brushed yours ever so softly and you felt his smile against your skin. “My second favourite three words to hear you say.” 

A retch drew you away from saying his favourites and you quirked an eyebrow at Matthew as he cawed. “That wasn’t gluten free bread was it? I was celiac when I was mortal.”

Dream’s brows furrowed together and his lips pursed before he dipped his head and admitted, “I did not know. Go home, Matthew, Cluracan can assist in finding a tonic - if he is sober.”

“Has he ever been?” 

“Indeed, so long as he is not catatonic in his inebriation he should be able to assist.” Dream corrected.

Matthew wasn’t going to hang around a moment longer and took off to the skies, disappearing into the sun. Dream tipped his head back and tossed the lump of bread aside, a perfect arc into the rubbish bin, and sighed heavily. 

“What’s going on in that handsome head of yours?” you asked softly as you brushed his hair back for an unimpeded view of his haunted blue eyes.

“Everywhere I look I find myself staring at a crossroads.” Those eyes darted around the park, following the pathways and tracks to the road and beyond to see what was there and what wasn’t. “I finally have everything I have never dared to dream of and with it comes the fear of losing it all, the fear of taking the wrong path.”

His arm tightened around your waist while his other hand reached into the stroller, his shaky fingers resting on Hope’s chest to feel the reassuring rise and fall of her steady breaths. You looked away from his trembling hand to where his eyes were fixated on the footpath that split the park from the exit to the businesses.

“The road I have walked has never split until now, one for the father I wish to be and one for the King I was made to be.” 

The quiet torment in his voice stole yours before you swallowed the lump in your throat and captured his face in your hands so he was forced to look at you.

“Dream, you do not have to choose between them. There doesn’t need to be the sacrifice of one to have the other. Look closer.”

You stood up and pulled Dream to his feet as he heeded your advice. His eyes cast over the park, searching. Once, twice. Then he saw it, a small strip of gravel that wove a path between the businesses and the park. The path that intertwined between his responsibilities.

You slipped your hand into his and rested your head on his shoulder. “The harder path less travelled, but a path nonetheless. And I will be with you every step of the way.” 

Six (Waking) Years Later “Aunt Death is here!” Hope screeched excitedly as she ran down the halls of the library. “Come, Lucy, we don’t want to be late.”

Hope wrapped a little hand around Lucienne’s and began tugging the Librarian towards the doors that lead to the reading room that would be toasty and warm thanks to the central hearth that burned brightly. 

Once a month Death would take a few hours out of her busy schedule to join the family for games night. Sometimes Delirium would join, if she found her way from the divine madness that blew through her mind. The others had all been invited to join, your idea - not Dream’s, but so far they had yet to show. It wasn’t surprising given Destruction hadn’t been seen in centuries and the Twins were not exactly family centric to anyone but each other.

Still, Dream wondered if one day they might all come together. If not to fill the void he felt with their absences but so that your daughter may know the family she has. You had taken her to the Silver City and the angels had absolutely doted upon her, how could he not wish to give her the same. 

You were draped over Dream’s throne, head resting on one arm with your legs hanging over the other as he paced the dias at the top of the stairs. A fingertip traced dark lenses of his helm he held, his crown, as his boots kept a steady beat on the concrete but he had long since stopped noticing. 

You knew he would talk to you when he was ready to divulge what weighed on his shoulders, or when he found no solution to the latest problem. You assumed it had something to do with the influx of demons breaking into the realm and that meant Lucifer was growing bored of the illusion of peace. She would not let her demons leave hell without her permission, especially not to enter another’s domain. 

With an exhausted sigh, Dream hung his helm over the ornate throne detailing and offered you his hand along with a soft smile. “Death is here.”

You let him pull you to your feet and smiled as he tucked away the pressures of being a King, the harsh lines of his clenched jaw easing as he tucked his face into your neck and inhaled your scent. When he straightened, his skin seemed flushed with colour and the gaunt pallor was gone, even his lips were a richer ruby colour.

“We better hurry, you know she cheats.” You reminded him as you tugged him towards the steps and out of the throne room. 

“You’re one to talk,” Dream teased as he cast a hand out and the doors swung open. 

“I do not cheat,” you retorted, an offended gasp tearing from your chest. “I merely make use of my gifts.”

“Next time you warp reality and change your cards remember you can’t have 5 of a kind.” Dream barely contained the smirk that caught the corner of his lip as you huffed in indignation. 

You knew poker would not be your game and all the rules had left your head spinning. After losing deal after deal last month you were desperate to win just once, swapping the useless cards in your hand for 5 aces. The only person who didn’t find it funny was Hope, ever the stickler for rules - much like her father.

You were hit by the warmth of the room that you stepped into a second before a wave of giggles. Hope had talked Death into unfurling her great black wings and danced around them wildly, her smile baring the gap where her two front teeth were missing. 

A new dream was now floating around the realm, created by Morpheus for Hope when her first baby tooth fell out. 

“Have you chosen the first game sweetheart?” you asked as she swooped out of the feathers and into your waiting arms, then moved on to her father.

She nodded enthusiastically and pointed to the well worn box on the polished table in the centre of the room. “Cluedo.”

You breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t Monopoly. No matter how well everyone got along, that game seemed to incite a riot. 

“Titi?” Hope asked as she skipped towards the table and the murder-mystery game that awaited. “If someone is killed, are you allowed to ask them who did it and tell the police?”

Death took a seat beside her niece and lifted the lid off the box as she answered, “Souls don’t often remember their last moments, it’s more peaceful and painless that way. Then, they are too focused on the lifetime of memories and choices they made, what afterlife they will go to, to worry about the nature of their death.”

“So, they don’t care.” Hope said as she screwed up her nose in distaste.

Death bopped her on the nose with a smile. “I think they have other things to worry about than the things they cannot change.”

Dream rose from his seat as he felt a ripple of power in his domain and you immediately followed, placing yourself beside him so that whatever was on the other side of the door had to go through both of you and Death to get to Hope. It was only the faint pink glow beneath the door and a hint of sweet rose oil in the air that gave away their presence. 

“Desire,” Dream uttered before he opened the door. “You finally decided to join us.”

The illustrious Endless had a smirk painted on their face as they sauntered into the room, their eyes immediately fixing on Hope who was tucked into Death’s side. “Hmm, half Angel, half Endless. I'm curious to see what comes of you, little Miss Hope.”

Your back stiffened with the sense of a threat lurking in those words but everyone else seemed to relax at the odd pleasantries. 

“You’re just in time, have a seat. Will our sister be joining us this evening?” Death asked politely as she pointed to a seat far from Hope which you were grateful for.

A slight wrinkle of their nose was all Desire let show. “Despair finds these familial events…unsettling. She prefers to keep to the company of her mirrors.”

“Dare I ask what changed your mind?” You could see Dream was intrigued but not distrustful of the visit as he asked Desire the question. You on the other hand knew they held the same view as Despair, the twins in spirit that way, so you knew something was amiss for them to visit. 

“Can’t I want to spend some quality time with my siblings and niece?” Desire purred as they reached for a glass of wine on the table. “Of course, I must admit, I do have an ulterior motive.”

“Of course,” Lucienne murmured from where she was quietly reading on the couch by the fire.

“I came to collect my favour,” Desire continued as they stared at Dream’s stormy eyes, “from your Miracle.”

Those golden eyes turned to you, taking delight in the position they put you in. You could feel Dream’s eyes boring into the side of your face, trying to get you to look at him, but you refused to yield to Desire’s challenge. 

“What is your favour?”

Desire broke away first and looked out the stained glass window to see the realm disappearing behind a thick fog of Dream’s making. “I have a bounty on a soul, I need you to collect it.”

“Desire-” Death began to interrupt but they held a hand up to cut her off.

“This is between us,” Desire hissed as they pointed to you. “A favour owed for the spawn at your side.”

Desire was thrown across the room with a blast of power emitted from Dream as he rose to his full height. The deep growl caught you by surprise as Dream stalked towards his sibling who was slowly picking themself up with that deft smirk still taunting. “That is my child, and heir to my Kingdom, you will show her the respect of her title. Blood or not, disrespect will not be tolerated.”

A sensual laugh drifted from those blood red lips and Desire bowed their head mockingly. “Is that a threat, dear brother?”

“It’s a promise.” Morpheus’ face held no warmth as he took a step closer and all life seemed to be sucked from the room and wrapped his pale fingers around their throat. “Now get the hell out of my realm.”

“Not without my favour.” Desire growled as the grip threatened to cut off their oxygen. “It is what I am owed.”

Dream shoved them away and you could feel his disappointment as he refused to look at you. “Name the soul.”

“Narcissus of Thespiae.” Desire said with a rasping voice as they drew fresh air into their lungs. “Deliver him to me and we will be even.”

Dream swiped his hand and Desire disappeared like a wisp of smoke, his back still turned to you. 

“Could you give us a moment alone?” you asked Death and Lucienne who had watched silently, pity seeping from both of them.

“Come with us sweetie, Mervyn makes a great hot chocolate.” Lucienne said to Hope, her intelligent eyes showing she understood more than she should have. “There’s even some marshmallows at my desk.”

The room fell quiet as they closed the door behind them. Dream stood frozen, staring at the carved doors with a stillness that came from withdrawing deep into himself.

“I should have told you,” you whispered, your breath misting as the fire burned out and the room went dark. 

“Yes, you should have.” The voice was that of the King, not the warmth of your lover. It reverberated off the stone surface and resounded in your head as if he were everywhere around you. “It was foolish to make a deal with Desire. Utterly foolish.”

“I know.” You crumbled to your knees, the stone jarring your bones, and prayed for a miracle. “But I don’t regret it. She was worth it, you were worth it.”

What Desire asked of you far more than what you had asked of them, but you hadn’t bargained enough at the time to know the stipulations that needed to be set. You hadn’t given parameters to the favour. It was so very foolish.

To take the soul from Lucifer would be difficult but not impossible, but to take a soul from Hades was practically signing your death warrant. 

Your wings erupted with a gust of wind and Dream cursed as he turned to catch your ankle. “Where the hell do you think you are going?”

He pulled you back and trapped you in his arms, the anger doused with a crashing wave of fear as he held you tight. 

“You’re not leaving me.” His growl caught with a hitch and you felt the tremor down his body. “You are not leaving me.”

“I have to go, this is my favour, I started this.” You struggled against him but he refused to release you as cold, wet droplets fell upon your shoulder. 

“You’re not leaving me, because I am going with you.”

Click here for chapter four.

#dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #morpheus x y/n #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream x y/n #the sandman #the sandman fanfic

[nagito-kissmaeda]

if it isn't real, why does the sun still burn?

CHAPTER ONE: Rise and Shine CHAPTER TWO: i guess its all up to me now CHAPTER THREE: Predictably, everything gets worse CHAPTER FOUR: good morning CHAPTER FIVE: Something to eat CHAPTER SIX: a start CHAPTER SEVEN: the party don’t start ‘til CHAPTER EIGHT: your full hospitality CHAPTER NINE: visitation rights CHAPTER TEN: gamer girl moments CHAPTER ELEVEN: prank patrol CHAPTER TWELVE: lets go to the beach beach

Summary : Like most people visiting this tag. You have always dreamed of meeting Nagito Komaeda for real, what you would do, what you would say? Things don’t go as planned.

AKA: Reader from our universe ends up in danganronpa and is just trying her best to keep everyone alive. and maybe to make komaeda kiss her.

Contains: she/her pronouns

Read on Ao3

Your legs ache like hell when you walk over to the restaurant for breakfast. You almost forgot that you even needed to go, it’s been almost a week since you last ate with everyone and you had half expected Komaeda to drop by with a plate of food like he used to. It is nice to finally have your freedom again, but it does also make you feel even more nervous than usual. Luckily you don’t bump into anyone on the way over, the prospect of having to make small talk after the day you just had is daunting, you just hope that everyone is going to be nice at breakfast.

Heading up past the pool, you take a quick moment to look up at the sky, shielding your eyes from the sun with a hand. The weather is perfect as always, with just enough clouds to keep the heat from being unbearable, but otherwise, the sky is nearly unsettlingly blue. It seems brighter, more vibrant than you are used to. You can’t help musing, are these oddities a byproduct of the Neo World Program? Or of whatever universe the Danganronpa series exists within? You sigh, letting your hand fall back to your side and walking to the front door of the lobby. It’s cool inside, and you realise that you probably can't put off going up to the restaurant anymore, even though you are kind of dreading it. Chewing on your lower lip, your fingers subconsciously move to the sticker on your chest. Still there, though you suppose if it wasn’t you’d be dead. 

Putting those unhelpful thoughts aside, you square your shoulders and start heading up the stairs. As you get closer to the top, you can hear the sounds of people chattering, it sounds like the class of 77-B is still in good spirits. You like to think that you have had at least a hand in that, even if they don’t realise it. No one turns to look at first when you reach the top of the stairs, so you hope to sneak in quietly and maybe sit down next to Koizumi or Sonia, but the second he catches sight of you, Togami stands up from his chair and clears his throat. Everyone’s eyes immediately turn to you, and you freeze in panic.

“Welcome back.” Togami says loudly, so loudly it booms through the room, “As prefaced yesterday, we are no longer harbouring any undue suspicion for you, especially given the overwhelming evidence in your favour.” he crosses his arms before turning to look at the rest of his classmates, “I expect that we all treat them as we would anyone else on this island. Teamwork is our greatest asset at this time, and if anyone should have any grievances, I ask that they come directly to me.”

He stares at you for a moment, and you are so overwhelmed by his impromptu speech that it takes you a few seconds to even realise what is happening. “Oh!” You exclaim, quickly dropping into a low bow, “Thank you, Togami-san! I am glad to be back!” In the corner of the room, you hear Saionji scoff and mutter, “Kiss-ass…”

You ignore her, instead walking over to one of the empty tables. Koizumi gives you an apologetic look before returning to her conversation with Saionji, and you’re grateful for that. You don’t even know what you should be planning for next. The next motive is despair disease, but you aren’t even sure if Monokuma will release it when the hospital is still inaccessible. 

Oh fuck, what if he does? If Komaeda gets seriously sick, there won’t be much Tsumiki can do without proper medical equipment. If he dies of despair disease…what does that even mean for the killing game? You clutch your head in your hands and squeeze your eyes shut, this is the absolute worst , all you can do is wait around and just hope that everything turns out okay.

Just as you start spiralling, two people take up the seats across from you. Causing you to slowly peer up from behind your hands.

“Oh, Hi!” You say (a little too loudly) trying to seem like you are totally cool and normal.

It’s Hinata and Tsumiki, the latter looking even more despondent than usual. 

Hinata raises his hand in greeting and gives you a lopsided smile, “Monokuma got to you, huh?” He asks, gesturing to your new accessory.

You wither, sinking back into your chair, “Yeah. He did.” you look around the room briefly, noticing everyone is staring before they quickly turn back to their meals, “Um. Did…everyone already know, when I got here?” Hinata rubs the back of his neck and averts his eyes, “Yeah our uh, our handbooks alerted us when a new rule was added, and since everyone else was already accounted for apart from you and Togami-san, well-” he smiles awkwardly, “We just assumed, you know?”

Yeah. Out of you and Togami, you are definitely the most likely candidate for idiot status. 

You give him a wobbly smile in return, “Yeah, no worries. A reasonable assumption.” “If-um…” Tsumiki starts, “If you don’t mind. Why did he give you the sticker?” “I fell for a stupid prank.” You say truthfully, “It was really embarrassing, I’d rather not talk about it.” “O-Oh…” Tsumiki says, hanging her head low, “I’m sorry for upsetting you.” “No, it’s okay! I understand why you would be curious, I’m not upset with you.” She tucks some of her long purple hair behind an ear, and sighs, “Thank you. I do have m-more important things I have to say, though.” She takes a moment, picking at her cuticles as she tries to find the right words. Hinata gives her a comforting pat on the shoulder and she smiles up at him before turning back to you. 

“I-I’m so sorry for whatever part I had in g-getting you framed for attempted murder!” She says quickly, bowing her head low enough that she almost slams her forehead into the table, “I w-would like to be your friend, and I d-don’t want this to ruin our friendship!”

You can feel your heart unfurling with warmth inside your chest, and you are unable to stop the smile that tugs at your lips, “Tsumiki-san.” You begin, reaching across the table and taking one of her hands between both of yours, “We’re still friends! Everyone was really scared and confused about what happened that day, I can’t blame you for saying what you did at the time.” 

She sniffles a little, peering up at you from underneath her choppy bangs, “Are you sure? Th-That’s the sort of thing that I’d expect someone to hate me over.” You nod, “I couldn’t hate you! Remember the first day we arrived here? I wouldn’t have made it safely back to my cottage without you, and my sunburn would have been so much worse without you looking after me.” you give her a warm smile, “You’re a very good nurse, you know that, right?” Tsumiki shyly returns your smile, you can see tears beading in her eyes, but she blinks them away, “I’m relieved. Thank you for being so kind to me.” “Don’t mention it.” You reply, giving her hand a firm pat before releasing it, “I’m just happy to be back, I was getting a little lonely.” Hinata grimaces, “Yeah…about that…” he fiddles with his tie a little, “I have some…questions? I guess?” You feel your heart drop like a rock, but still manage to reply, “Oh okay!” “I don’t want to sound like I'm accusing anyone of anything but-” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “What do you think of Komaeda-san?” Oh no.

Oh no oh no oh no. 

The absolute last thing you need is anyone else keying into Komaeda’s whole deal because that means the loss of a valuable ally, growing tensions within the group and the potential for murder or many other even worse possibilities that you haven’t even considered yet. 

You can feel your hands shaking, and keeping your expression neutral is no small feat, but you do it, “Oh, Komaeda-san? Well it was very nice of him to let me stay with him, but he was out talking with everyone else most of the time, so we didn’t chat much.” Your cheeks hurt from the fake smile you are forcing, “Why do you ask?” Hinata shuffles forward in his seat and leans on his elbows. You follow suit, leaning in close. You notice Hinata’s eyes darting around the room, and the nervous bob of his adam’s apple, “He’s…weird, right?” Weird. Yes. You can work with weird. 

“Hm, I suppose he can be a little strange sometimes? He laughs a lot, but I just think he isn't used to socialising.” Hinata’s brow furrows. For a moment his mouth opens like he is considering asking you something else but thinks the better of it. 

“Was that…all?” You ask, praying that he will just stop looking so deep in thought for a moment. Based on his expression, Hinata looks like he is trapped deep in a logic dive right now, “Hinata-san?” You try, hoping to break him out of it. 

He blinks a few times, and then chuckles uncomfortably, “Sorry about that, just thinking some stuff over.” What stuff? You want to ask. It’s not like you think Komaeda is a murderer or anything right? 

Instead, you stay quiet, smiling as Hinata gets up from the table, “Anyway, will I see you at the beach later today?” he asks. “Oh yeah! You will!” You reply, “I almost forgot!” Tsumiki titters politely behind a hand, “I h-hope you don’t forget. I would love to spend some more time with you.” Grateful for a reason to stop stressing re: Hinata, you turn back to Tsumiki, “Then I’ll be sure to see you there!”

***

A few hours later, you sigh as you frown at yourself in the mirror. Even though it fits surprisingly well, you are still not happy to be wearing a swimsuit, all that really means is so much more skin that you need to try and get sunscreen on. It’s a lot of work, but the idea of repeating those first few days with that terrible sunburn is daunting, so you suffer through the lesser of two evils. Just before getting changed you found that Monokuma had ‘helpfully’ left a stack of idiot stickers on top of your dresser, so that way you will never be without one, not matter what you are wearing, it sticks surprisingly well to the material of your swimsuit, and you sense that Monokuma has taken great care to ensure it won’t fall off, even in the water. 

You are in a bad mood, which is unfortunate given that just after breakfast Mioda quickly announced that she was expecting to see a ‘totally rad turnout’ down at the beach and it wouldn’t do you any good to not make an appearance, especially given everyone's tenuous trust in you at this point. 

You huff and shove one of your sundresses (also affixed with another sticker) over the top of your swimsuit to take off when you get to the beach and tuck a folded towel under your arm. It is unlikely that you will manage to have any fun.

Unfortunately, you can’t stop thinking about your encounter with Hinata at breakfast. Though you are sure that Komaeda isn’t actively trying to make anyone think he planned the attempted murder, especially since that would prevent him from making nice with all the other Ultimates, there is the distinct possibility that Hinata has been thinking over the events of that night. Like Komaeda mentioned so many days ago, even a small thought about just how the power outage was caused puts him right in the firing line. 

This is bad for you. While Komaeda doesn’t necessarily like you, he is at least interested enough in what you are doing to not ask too many questions. Apart from Nanami, there are very few other members of class 77-B that you can trust to just… let you do your weird bullshit without at least asking how you know all this stuff. 

You almost consider bailing on the beach outing altogether, despite how much of a bad look it would be. Before you are able to make a decision one way or the other, you are interrupted by a knock on your door. Sighing aloud, you head over to it, surprised to find three people on the other side when you pull it open.

“Oh wow, um, hi everyone?” 

“WAHOO!” Mioda exclaims, “It’s Ibuki’s BESTIE!” “Wahoo…” You reply back, barely able to match even a tenth of Mioda’s enthusiasm, “I wasn’t um- expecting any of you.” Sonia quickly steps around Mioda, taking one of your hands between both of hers and smiling, “I hope it wasn't too presumptuous, but you’ve been without company for so long and we thought you might like some friendly conversation on your way to the beach.” “Oh…” You breathe, feeling any tension in your shoulder quickly melt away. Sonia has an energy so calming that it's utterly contagious, “Thanks for thinking of me, that sounds nice actually.” Sonia beams, “Stupendous!” “STOOPYENDUS!” Moida cries, pushing Sonia out of the way so she can grab you by the waist and hoist you up in the air. You let out a panicked shriek and the third member of your visitors finally speaks up. “Put her down before one of you gets hurt, Mioda-san.” Pekoyama says quite seriously. 

Mioda huffs, but does as asked. Once back on the ground again, you realise that you haven't seen all that much of Pekoyama so far. You had been expecting to confront her and Kuzuryu after the motive was revealed, but Togami’s quick action negated that issue almost immediately. 

All three of the girls are dressed in their swimsuits, just like in the game, Sonia has opted to wear a full wetsuit, which you can only assume is what she is used to wearing when swimming in the freezing Novoselic waters. 

Pekoyama has an incredibly oppressive stare, the bright red hue of her irises only make it worse. She’s also an absolute beauty, with strong arms and broad muscular shoulders. Her swimsuit leaves little to the imagination and you have to awkwardly swallow and avert your eyes to prevent yourself from getting an eyeful.

“We should go.” She says, crossing her arms over her chest, “We don’t want to be late.” Sonia nods, “Yes, yes, you’re right. At this rate all the boys are going to beat us there.” Mioda tosses her head back in a laugh and yells, “Not if Ibuki can help it!” before entirely forgetting that she was supposed to be keeping you company and sprinting off towards the beach as fast as she can. “Oh! Oh no!” Sonia says quickly, “You’ll have to excuse me, but I think someone needs to supervise Mioda-san.” She starts running, and she somehow even manages to do that with perfect posture, before she gets too far away, she calls back to you over her shoulder, “I’ll see the two of you there! My apologies!” 

“Well.” Pekoyama says, watching Sonia quickly dash away, “It will just be the two of us, then.” 

You laugh nervously, “Looks like it.” Without a word, Pekoyama starts striding towards the beach, and you have to jog a little in order to catch up. To her credit, she does peer down at you and slow her gait once she realises you are having difficulty keeping up. 

“I-” Pekoyama begins, clearing her throat, “-am not a great conversationalist.”

“Oh, um- that’s okay! We don’t have to talk.” Pekoyama hums, fiddling with the end of one of her braids, “I would like to try, if that is alright with you?” Sneaking a glimpse at her face, you see that she is purposely looking away from you with a nervous pink on her cheeks. You’ve always had a soft spot for Pekoyama, she’s one of your favourite characters, so the fact that she even wants to try talking to you means a lot. Especially since you know she doesn't talk all that much. 

“Sure.” You reply, “I can start if you want?” She chuckles, “Please.” You think for a moment, and then gently ask, “Did you go to the beach often? Before all this mess, I mean?” “No.” Pekoyama replies quickly, “Not unless I was there for training, though I did most of my cardio in swimming pools instead of the ocean.”

She does not ask a follow up question, so the conversation hangs awkwardly in the air. There is no sound but the crunch of your feet on the gravel underfoot and the occasional cry of a seagull. It is, admittedly, a nice walk even in silence. Plus, now that you have been far more diligent with sunscreen, you are free to enjoy the warmth of the sun without fear of further burning. It does feel a little awkward though, and you are unsure if the conversation is over, or if you should prompt Pekoyama to keep talking. Luckily, after a few silent minutes, you see her stiffen beside you. 

“I’m sorry.” She says, laughing to herself “I forgot to ask you a question, I told you I’m terrible at this.” she hums a moment, and then asks, “Do you find it easy to make friends?” You blink. That question was much more complex than your silly beach question, “U-Um, I don’t really know? It’s kind of hard to explain.” You wring your hands together, “I’m not very good at approaching people, because I don't want to bother them, but if someone talks to me first, I’m usually okay. If that makes sense?” Pekoyama nods slowly, “I…suppose it does.” “It’s really easy to be friends with Mioda-san, for example. She puts in most of the effort, which means there is less for me to worry about.” You kick a wayward stone with your foot, “Have you made any friends since we’ve been here?” Pekoyama stops walking, “Just the one.”

Oh, Kuzuryu. You think to yourself. It makes sense that she isn't putting too much effort into socialising outside of him, but it’s still sad to think about. When you played the game, you always spent heaps of Free Time Events speaking with Pekoyama, but it looks like the real Hinata has his priorities set elsewhere. 

Your heart races a little, considering that usually, without your intervention, Pekoyama wouldn't even have survived until today. With this extra time she’s been granted, it would be a shame if she spent it all alone, right? Resting a shy hand on her forearm, you say, “Well, I’d like to be your friend, if you’ll have me.” Pekoyama’s eyes widen a moment, and her lips curl up in what is almost a smile, “Despite my awful conversation attempts?” You laugh, “Because of them, actually. I can tell that you’re trying, there are plenty of people out there who wouldn't even do that.” You can’t help breaking into a smile, “I’m sure you’ll get better at it too, and there are lots of people on this island who would be willing to help teach you.”

“Thank you.” She says, looking up at the sky, “That sounds nice.” “You should talk to Tanaka-san.” You offer, continuing on your walk towards the beach, “He’s a bit eccentric, but he’s very good at talking so long as you have nice things to say about his hamsters.” Pekoyama smiles brightly this time, it's a good look on her, her eyes crinkle in the corners, “I…have always wanted a pet.”

#komaeda x reader #nagito komaeda #nagito x reader #komaeda nagito #danganronpa x reader #nagito komaeda x reader

[allzelemonz]

For You: Micah Bell X Male Reader X Kieran Duffy

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘sir’, ‘mister’, ‘feller’, ‘boy’, ‘man’. Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Violence, References to Sex Warnings: Micah Bell is his own warning, Micah is an asshole, Kieran is repressed and shy, Kieran is injured, Micah actually likes his horse, Micah is injured, Baylock is injured, they’re all fine it’s okay, crime, death Summary: Kieran watches you from a distance, but things get bad when Micah notices and even worse when a job goes bad.

Every morning, despite not having slept, Micah wanders out from his tent and finds a place to sharpen his knife. Every morning you join him and he gets distracted with running his hands anywhere you’ll let him. Every morning Arthur tells you both to go somewhere private or to cut it out all together. Every morning, despite having a hundred other things to do, Kieran watches this all play out.

He moreso watches you. He tries to ignore Micah. After this routine you disappear to earn money or bring back food and Kieran won’t see you until it’s dark and Micah is pulling you along to your tent. Sometimes he’ll hear noises if he lingers around, noises he would give anything to be the cause of. Then the day resets and Kieran goes to tend to the horses with the sun rises. He waits and waits, finding a small amount of happiness when Micah starts sharpening his knife because he knows it means you’ll be awake soon.

A few others wake up in the meantime. Bill wanders to Pearson for coffee, Jack runs around after his parents brush him off in favor of a few extra moments of sleep. All the while, Kieran brushes The Count who is only behaving now that Dutch is awake as well. As Kieran moves on to the next horse, he sees you walking to Micah. Your hair has half-heartedly been smoothed out from a night that sounded quite long from what Kieran could hear. Your sleeping clothes show more of your arms, less of a sleeve to help fight the heat, and your muscles flex as you bend your arm to pull Micah in for a kiss. Kieran looks away for a few seconds and stares at the flank of the horse he’s brushing. Then he looks back. Micah has his hand in your hair and you have your fingers hooked into his gun belt, both pulling the other closer. Kieran’s heart picks up just a little when Micah’s other hand slightly lifts your shirt and the young man sees skin of yours that he’s never seen before.

This is when Arthur usually comes along. Sometimes it’s John, but today there’s no one stopping the two of you. Instead it’s him, it’s Kieran that distracts Micah because he’s been caught staring. Micah says something to you and you cup his cheek and kiss him again before walking off to Pearson’s. Micah, however, has his sights fixed on Kieran. In the few seconds it takes for Micah to cross the camp, Kieran can only imagine what the cruelest member of the Van Der Linde gang will do to him. He’s seen what he does to people he’s supposed to trust, he’s seen what the nicer members of the gang do to him. Would he skin him? String him up? Drown him in the river? Hogtie him and drag him along on a horse ride?

Surely Micah isn’t as bad as an O’Driscoll, all of whom Kieran has seen do those things when far less provoked.

When Micah reaches the edge of camp he stops and leans against a tree, his arms above his head to hold him up. Kieran tries to focus on the horse in front of him, brushing off the dirt. It takes a few seconds for him to realize it’s Baylock he’s brushing, Micah’s horse. Micah’s horse that is just like his owner. A rock and a hard place.

“I’ve had just about enough of you, O’Driscoll.” Micah muses, leaning his head back against the tree.

Kieran has frozen in place, the brush resting solidly against Baylock’s flank. He hasn’t been here long, but he’s seen how well this horse listens to his owner. Like they can read each other’s minds.

“I-Is there something I can do for ya, mister?” Kieran asks, resuming his brushing.

Kieran doesn’t have time to react before Micah has come around and essentially pinned him between him and Baylock. Kieran drops the brush and raises his hands, his back resting against a horse that may very well kick him if Micah’s in a bad enough mood.

“You can quit your staring.” Micah clears his throat. “Plenty a’ fellas to stare at around here.” He makes a gesture towards the camp and leans closer to Kieran. “Keep your eyes off a’ mine.”

Kieran nods and quickly has his neck allows. “Yes, yes, sir. I will. I didn’t mean nothing by it, mister. It won’t happen again.”

Micah chuckles as Kieran recoils against Baylock. “Oh, it will. And when it does, I’ll make sure you find your way off that cliff, cowpoke.”

Kieran’s eyes follow Micah’s gesture to the cliff a few yards away. The overlook is a long fall. If he’s lucky, he might live for a few seconds with a mangled body. Micah is stronger than him, he knows that. He might be able to put up a fight, but the man is just plain scary and Kieran would rather appease him than deal with the fallout.

“Got it.” Kieran’s breath is shaky as he speaks and the intense gaze from Micah makes it impossible to look anywhere but at the threatening cliff.

Micah takes some pleasure in the shaky voice Kieran speaks with, a smile spreads over his face. “Just keep to yourself, O’Driscoll.”

Kieran falls back as Micah falsely steps towards him, faking an attack. As if knowing what his owner wants, Baylock shakes his head and steps on Kieran as he walks away to graze by Brown Jack. Kieran clutches his stomach where Baylock stepped on him, a bad bruise clearly forming under his shirt. Micah chuckles in a dark way that makes Kieran half-wish it was Colm staring down at him. Then the gunslinger walks away, humming a light tune, as if nothing had happened. He sits with you by the campfire, taking a bowl of stew and settling in while Kieran is left clutching his bruise and hoping nothing is broken.

Dutch, in all his wisdom, has a plan. He always has a plan, but none as questionable as this. A valuable stagecoach, passing south of Valentine on the way to Saint Denis. A job that can easily be done with two men. However, Dutch is a teacher. You and Micah are supposed to teach the youngest of the gang, Lenny, and the newest of the gang, Kieran, how to rob a stagecoach properly. Teaching the inexperienced turns this job from easy to complicated. Of course, it’s you that must break the news. If Dutch wants to use Micah, he pairs him with you for obvious reasons, but it’s you that always gets the details of his plan and has to relay them. This annoys Micah. The job will annoy him more.

“Dutch is making us do what?”

“You heard me, Micah!” You shout, grabbing your hat from its usual place. “Dutch’s order. That’s the only reasoning you need.”

“But the O’Driscoll and the-”

“They could use the experience, that’s what Dutch said and that’s the end of it.”

Micah stops you, grabbing your arm. “Why not Arthur?” He clears his throat. “John, Bill, anyone!”

“He said we’re going, so we’re going.” You pull your arm from his grip. “Those kids need all the experience they can get.”

Micah follows you out of the tent and to the cluster of horses on the edge of camp. Kieran stands next to Branwen, patting him with a smile on his face. Lenny is looking over his gun and perks up when you get close, only to lose some enthusiasm when he sees Micah behind you.

“Let’s get this over with.” Micah says, pulling himself up onto Baylock.

You follow his lead, getting on your horse as well. Before you broke the news to Micah, you got Kieran and Lenny together and told them everything they needed to know. Dutch wants this to be a learning job, you’re not one to disappoint the boss.

“So how much are we expecting from this?” Lenny asks over the loud gallop of the horses.

“A hundred, maybe two.” You answer. “They’re ‘rich bastards’ is all Dutch said.”

“And why couldn’t we do this ourselves?” Micah asks, annoyed as ever.

“They gotta learn somehow, Micah.” You say, eyes now scanning for the ridge Dutch told you about.

“Hey, I know how to rob a stage!” Lenny says. “I bet Kieran does too.”

“I’m sure you can, boys.” You slow down, the others follow suit. “But this is about doing things right.”

Micah chuckles. “Now I see why Dutch wanted us.”

You point up to the ridge above the road, a perfect spot for sharpshooting. “Lenny, you’re up there. Make sure you only take shots you have to. We don’t need the law on us right now. You signal us when you see it coming”

“Got it.” Lenny nods, riding off to the ridge.

“Micah, you’re leading. You know what that means.” You say and Micah nods with a satisfied grin on his face. “Kieran, we’re covering him. Rifles out and we stick to the sides of the road.”

Kieran nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, at least I know I’ll be covered from one side.” Micah chuckles as he rides off to his position.

Kieran’s dejected look makes you sigh. “Come on, kid.”

You lead Kieran to his position and make sure he has his rifle ready. Lenny’s right, he must have done this before. He did run with the O’Driscolls, they probably brought him along a few times. He seems more confident here, where Micah can’t see him. Most people don’t actually let Micah get to them, but Kieran seems really shaken by him. As long as it doesn’t screw up the job, the gang, then it’s his problem to deal with. You take your place on the other side of the road, rifle in hand and eyes fixed on Micah in his position. Something, everything, about Micah in action is one of the best sights in the world. Seeing him beforehand makes you a bit impatient. In a few minutes he’ll be doing what he does best and a few minutes after that you’ll be back at camp, pulling him to your tent and staring at that arrogant face that always makes you feel things you probably shouldn’t.

A faint light in the distance, up on the ridge, tells you that the target is coming. Also, that Lenny is doing the most basic part of his job. The others look like they’ve seen it, guns at the ready. The stagecoach rattles down the path, passing in between you and Kieran before Micah makes himself known. The driver pulls a gun, but Micah’s much faster. You move closer, making sure you have eyes on Micah to cover him as he leaves Baylock and approaches the door. Just as Micah gets the passengers out, you catch the signal light in the corner of your eye. From around the bend in the road you can see the faint outline of riders in the dark.

“We got company!” You shout.

Lenny’s shots ring through the air and you all follow them with your own. Micah scrambles for the take, shooting a lockbox open and shoving everything into his pockets. There are more riders than you’ve ever seen on a job like this. Lenny’s taken down four, you shot at least five, Kieran’s got a couple, but they’re still coming.

“I got it!” Micah shouts. “Let’s get outta here, boys!”

You pull at the reins of your horse, turning them around. With one last look up at the ridge, seeing Lenny getting back on his horse, you urge your horse forward. Everything comes to a stop when Micah falls off of Baylock a few feet ahead of you. You stop in place. Micah isn’t moving, Baylock is running off. Shit. You jump off your horse and give them a signal to run, they’ll probably follow Baylock and get to camp or find you once the noise is died down. Baylock has never left Micah like that before, he’s spooked more than ever.

“Kieran!” You shout as you start shooting again.

He crosses the road and stops behind you, shooting as well. Lenny’s probably far away by now, circling back to camp.

“Check on Micah.” You order.

“You’re gonna get yourself shot, mister.” Kieran says as he jumps down and takes another shot.

“Just get Micah!”

Kieran crouches and tries to rouse Micah. “He’s knocked out, I-I can’t get him up.”

“Shit!” You fire again, hitting the lead rider in the head.

There are four left. Four riders. You can handle four riders.

As if Hell has decided to come early, more riders come around the bend. The law, stupid little blue coats and all. Four riders turn into twenty. Twenty riders you can’t handle. You look back at Micah, out cold on the ground, and Kieran, still trying to wake him up.

“Take Micah and go.” You order.

“What?” Kieran asks. “Mister, I can’t leave ya here-”

“Kieran, go.” You yell. “I’ll find the horses and get back to camp. Tell Dutch what happened if I’m not back by morning.”

“I-I, I can’t-”

“Kieran!” You groan. “If you wanna make anyone in this gang trust you, do what I tell you. Go!”

He looks scared out of his mind. Anyone would be in a situation like this. But Kieran pulls himself together and helps you get Micah on the back of his horse. They’re gone in the time it takes the law to get to the stagecoach and you’ve disappeared into the trees by the time they reach the spot in the grass that’s covered in blood.

Your heart pounds as you run through the trees. Your rifle is pressed close to your chest and every step starts to burn once you see them. Baylock is on the ground and your horse is circling him, bouncing around nervously. You run to them and calm your horse, pulling them away from Baylock. When you get close to the always moody horse you can see the bullet wound. He’s been hit in the leg, his eyes are wide, he’s more scared than you’ve ever seen him. Carefully, you touch his back and slide your hand down to the injured leg. Baylock doesn’t respond aside from the occasional twitch of his tail. In the dark you have to feel around for the wound, it’s a clean shot. There’s no bullet, just a hole through the poor thing’s leg.

You mutter to yourself, reassuring your confidence as you catch your breath. You can’t leave him here, camp isn’t far, the lawmen aren’t either. You grab Baylock’s reins and urge him up. When he walks with you, he limps badly. You sling your rifle over your shoulder and grab your horses reins with your other hand, leading them both through the next set of trees towards camp. You’re gonna get away. The Van Der Linde gang is going to call this a success if it kills you.

Baylock is a strong horse. Anything that deals with Micah on a regular basis has to be strong. An immense compliment to both the horse and yourself. You need it as you trudge through the trees and duck deeper into the woods as lawmen patrol the roads. The familiar set of trees is a welcome sight and the call from Javier asking who’s there is even better. Your answer prompts some exclamation in Spanish before he yells for Dutch. It’s only been a few hours, the sun is just starting to rise, but everyone rushes out to meet you in various stages of sleepiness.

“You had us worried, boy!” Arthur says with a smile on his face as he takes your horse’s reins from you.

“What the hell happened out there?” Dutch asks, making his way through the crowd.

“First, Baylock’s injured.” You say, patting the horse’s back. “Where’s Strauss?”

“Here, here.” Strauss says, pushing his way past Abigail and John. “The O’Driscoll boy told me to prepare for the worst.”

The Austrian hands you horse medicine and lets you feed it to Baylock before he takes the reins to look over the wound. Once Baylock is safe you feel the exhaustion hit you. It was a long walk back and everyone has endless questions. Away from the crowd, lingering by your tent, is Kieran. He holds his hand together, messing with them nervously.

“Let’s all let the man rest!” Dutch finally declares over the chatter. “I’m sure we’ll get great retellings once everyone’s rested.”

Lenny lingers behind with a guilty look. “Mister, I woulda come back if I knew things got that bad.”

You wave him off. “We told you to get outta there, kid. You did good.”

He smiles. “You okay, sir?”

“Fine, Lenny. You should get some rest.”

As Lenny walks away there is only the clatter of things being knocked aside to warn you. Micah wraps his arms around you before you can even see him. He smells like blood and whiskey, but he’s never hugged you so tight and you can only return the much needed gesture. Then he pulls away from you and fixes his stare deep into your eyes.

“Never do that again, cowboy.” He grips your shoulders so hard it hurts a little. “Don’t you ever split us up like that.”

“I didn’t have a lot of options, Micah.” You say.

His hands fall down to rest on your gun belt, pulling you closer to him. “You coula left the O’Driscoll.”

Over Micah’s shoulder you can see him. Kieran is frozen by your tent, holding Micah’s bloody clothes and some empty medicine and whiskey bottles. Micah will never acknowledge that Kieran helped save his life, but you give a smile and you will never forget. You don’t know what you’d do without Micah. If he had been shot on that job, if he died from whatever injury he suffered from falling off of Baylock, you don’t know what you’d do. You’ll thank Kieran at some point, once Micah isn’t there to mess it up. Kieran didn’t do it for Micah or for Dutch or the gang. He saved Micah for you. Even if the man terrifies him, even if he is what stands in his way, Kieran will save him a hundred more times to see you happy.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #micah bell #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption x male reader #micah bell x reader #micah bell x male reader #x reader #x male reader #kieran duffy #kieran duffy x reader #kieran duffy x male reader

[chaoticjoke]

ooc: meet the mun

NAME?: natalie

PRONOUNS?: she/her

MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S)?: the joker. obviously. he's stuck in my head and i guess i'm destined to write him... for-everrrr. there's also a catwoman blog i've recently made but it was probably a mistake lol

RP PET PEEVES?: minor stuff like people not cutting their threads or, alternatively, cutting everything off in a thread except their own reply. i can guess they do it for their blog aesthetic reasons but, when i do my drafts, reading my own previous reply is a must. also threads being started but never finished or even moved forward. i can really say that, if we write together, i'd rather we had one major thread or plot instead of lots meaningless memes and nothing more.

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS?: circa 2015... so let's say 9 years of the clownery

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?: angst. AAAANGST. like a perfect genre, natural for my chaotic muse

PLOTS OR MEMES?: i love both but most of my threads and connections come from memes. okay, let me tell little secret here though -- if I follow someone first i already have a raw plot written out in my head, like what joker might do with your muse and how he would act, because whereas he claims he's not a schemer, he has everything figured out and he's always a few steps ahead. i rarely share his intentions or plans because it'll ruin the rp experience for me and my rp partners. and, this can be added to the pet peeves, but there were times when people would drop threads without telling me, and i would be genuinely upset because we didn't finish and they bailed too early, never knowing what was in stock for their muse. kind of discouraging, but that's fine :D

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?: long replies because i feel i can bring more context and meaning to his replies, plus i'm a sucker for writing his twisted train of thots

TIME TO WRITE?: joker's muse mostly comes to me at night. or late evening. most of my replies are written at that time. i envy those who can write their muses everywhere -- at work, at school/uni, while watching a TV show or being at a party, etc. i can write him only: 1) when i'm not tired, 2) when my mind isn't occupied with irl stuff, 3) when i'm most comfy and isolated -- in my room, with a cup of strong black coffee on my table and his playlist on. god forbid i get interrupted in mid-reply... oh, and i never do drafts on mobile -- i always need my laptop's keyboard to tap on lol

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?: lol nO. absolutely not. except probably for owning a purple suit and for my big love for the batman. i wish i could read people like joker does and as well as turning their little evil plans upside down.

tagged by: @freakarus (ty! <3) tagging: tag yoselves

#;;out of chaos #[ now everyone will think i'm weird lol ] #[ *hides tbh* ]

[general-kalani]

(CHARACTER NAME)’S RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted. Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

Mun name(s): Kalani, General, Killer (gamer name lmfao) Mun pronouns: Any I don't mind!! OOC Contact: Discord (ask if we're moots!) & tumblr ims

Who the heck are my muses anyway:

My muselist is a little all over the place! If the bio to each character doesn't cut it, ask me instead for how they are! Most are military, few are ex-military, one's a horse, there's a cult leader in amongst all of it. You name it, I probably have it.

Points of interest:

Some of them are kinda boring (in my opinion LMFAO) and most of the weird shit is from the Far Cry muses, the kinda cooler ones imho are the zombie-genre ones. Check them all out anyway I recommend it <3

What they’ve been up to recently:

The most important character arc for Voice right now, is acceptance at the fact that no matter what he does he can't change history when it comes to Joseph. What's done is done. The other most important character arc is for Joseph and that's just realising he's traumatised and seeking therapy that "actually works". Lots of others ofc on the blog but those two are the main ones lmfao-

Where to find them:

Most can be found in America! Some (Dead Island) can be found on Banoi. In SBY some can be found floating in space between Gamilas and Earth. Borderlands it's a wildcard on where they'll be you'd have to check bios on that lmfao. Expedition characters are on Darwin IV, but can also be dragged to other places! Far Cry 3 is on two islands, depending on North or South island, will decide on who you meet. Far Cry 4 is the same deal, only taking place in Kyrat! New Dawn is a post-Apocalyptic America. Far Cry 6 takes place in Yara. Protect the boy if you go there! Frontier is an 18th century historical drama for America/Canada. I only care about Cobbs/Grant though- RAGE is a post-apocalyptic world once again. Which world? Yes. Silver Brumby actually takes place in Australia but Brolga is a helluva fun muse to interact with!

Current plans:

Specific upcoming arcs are hard to think of when I keep changing my characters, how they act, etcetc, but there is one exploring how Joseph became the Voice, I'm just figuring out how to do it :3

Desired interactions:

Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, lovers to enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, enemies to-

Offered interactions:

All depends on the character one is interested in! Remember to look at the bios for each character. For example as a leader, there better be a good reason someone would want to meet Dessler and Joseph Seed. As an important person someone needs a good reason to meet a military figure like Gimleh, Ryder, Knoxx, etc. Just find the one that works for you!

Current open post/s:

My open starters, starter calls and plotting calls are here for your leisure to click on <3

Anything else?:

Rq, as I'm Australian (Queensland) don't expect me to be awake at your time I am an eepy gal that's typically awake at 10am-11am to 11pm-12am Other info you'll need though; interest tracker, muselist, rp rules, rp prompts and this rp guide I did a while ago (plus an RP plot idea prompt)

Tagging: Whoever wants to do this <3

#{ out of the empire } ~ ooc #the general speaks #dash games

[demonsfate]

bachelor's button and carnation! <3

botanical headcanons // accepting . . .

bachelor’s button : does your muse actively seek romantic companionship , or cherish the liberties of being single ?

Jin's not exactly a hopeless romantic, but he does love the idea of finding somebody and eventually getting married. He doesn't technically actively seek it, but he'll be more than happy when he finds somebody he naturally connects with. Jin's okay with being single, but it's not something he'd want forever.

Like Jin, Devil also doesn't actively seek companionship. Except, y'know... when a certain season comes around, then he actively looks for a 'mate'. He doesn't mind the idea of having a lover, but he also doesn't mind if he doesn't. Devil is still trying to learn how to love properly.

carnation : what is your muse’s relationship with their gender ? how do they express or not express this relationship ?

Jin's a cis man, and he is very masculine, and comfortable with his masculinity. However, this doesn't mean Jin isn't inclined to leaning into more feminine traits or whatever, too. As he discussed with Xiao in one of our threads, he'd be willing to wearing lacey underwear or thongs. He'd also be willing to wear skirts and dresses if he finds one he thinks would look good on him.

Devil technically doesn't have a gender, as I don't think devils have them considering that in Tek2, Devil [Kazuya] was referred to with it/its pronouns and Azazel has never been referred to with pronouns iirc. However, Devil [Jin] leans more towards masculine terms and pronouns due to simply getting used to them as people referred to him most with those. Just how, even though his name technically isn't Devil, he got used to it as most people call him that. So if Devil had been born with a female host, he would've likely went by she/her and feminine terms instead. BUT, if say, somebody somehow takes him from Jin and puts him into a female's body, he'd still use he/him and masculine terms because he's now used to those. Because devils didn't really have genders, they lack traditional gender roles - therefore, Devil's likely to not abide by the humans roles of gender.

#littledancingphoenix #🔥 - ɪᴛ's ᴀ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪғᴜʟ ᴛʀᴀɢᴇᴅʏ // (study) #👿 - ᴀ ʜᴏʟʏ ᴡᴀʀ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ // (study) #✏️ - ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ? // (inbox)

[sansloii]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN

NAME : Marshy/Marsh, Morsh/Morshy, Mushy, Murshy, and everything other misspelling of Marshy

PRONOUNS : She/Her or ( more recently ) They/Them! Either one works because i do not care in the slightest

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : discord! I'm usually lurking on discord a lot so like... discord is my go-to for ooc communication. ( it's princemorsh c: ). it might say "do not disturb" but it's not really "do not disturb". i'm just... very low energy and have the social battery of a goldfish

MOST ACTIVE MUSE : Mikah. No question, no debate--it's Mikah. They were the first muse I had on this blog and I will forever put Mikah first because i love them so much. more oft than not, if I don't know just who to throw at someone spontaneously, I'll throw Mikah because they're the easiest for me to just.... put somewhere. Dakota, Evan, and Wynn come up behind them a lot, though, and right now Dakota has me in a chokehold

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS : i fucked around on deviantart with friends when i was in middle school but like... i don't count that. so lets just skip forward to the middle of high school and say that i've been rping since i was like 15-16 ish? i'm 27 now so like. about a decade.

BEST EXPERIENCE : tumblr for sure. maybe not when i was like... in high school, but after i entered college, i really began to enjoy it. i've had mikah + them since.... 2016/2017ish i think? and I'm fully convinced that this blog has been my best experience overall. i also got to meet @soulsxng and @feraecor through it ;w; and i'm fully convinced that if not for those two, my experience here would've been so fundamentally different and i have such a hard time visualizing that now lmao. they've introduced me to wonderful people who, again, I think i would have a fundamentally different experience without them being there and i'm really grateful for that 🍏💚 that isn't to say that i haven't met ( and would fucking fight for ) people outside of that but like.... i think i would not have had as much of a motivation to continue writing if i didn't have these two to throw shit at early on again and again and again.

RP PET PEEVE : *does a dumb lil shimmy* i feel like a broken record with this particular peeve BUT like...okay--i enjoy shipping a lot. i love relationships and i love being silly with them and talking about them and reblogging shippy aesthetics and quotes. if you know me, you know that i love me a good fucking ship and i will think about it until the end of time. however, everything takes time. yes, they could end up together but it's not like there isn't a whole alphabet of things between when they meet and when they end up together. I don't want to rush or side step those conversations or interactions ( or ooc discussions about them ) for fluff, even if I too enjoy fluff, smooches, genuine romanticism, n.sfw content a lot.

and if my muse just... happens to not like yours the way we thought they would, that's okay. it doesn't mean that... anyone should pivot ( and i do mean pivot ) to a muse that is more agreeable or "nicer" in terms of... getting a ship. yeah we can stop throwing those two muses together but that doesn't immediately open me up to...making the other two kiss or fuck or say they're dating. esp when you ( not muse, mun ) are very obvious about the other muse being nicer and therefore "you want that one instead". or start getting weirdly pushy to "make it work" with the first muse because they'd be good together. or disregard the boundaries i've set with my muses and have clearly stated in my rules and ooc.

i make jokes and i laugh now about those experiences -- esp because it's happened more than twice. and i don't think anyone's, like... fucking evil for it or i that hate them over it. i just think it was some bullshit because it's the simplest "respect this basic boundary i've set and if you do, i will die for our little blorbos and ship anything with you." it's not a call for anyone to prove anything to me and it's not like... i'm expecting anyone to just turn off any thoughts of shipping my muses and theirs ( because i sure as shit don't ). no, no--i'm just saying it'll take a bit to be actionable and feel right for me to write my muses with said feelings in this way. i'm slow enough as is, just give me time.

PLOTS OR MEMES : both! i like memes for when my emotional battery is like. in the toilet but i want to write something. i fucking adore plotted things, though, and i think that some memes can lead into some plotted adventures! we don't gotta plot everything out, either. we can just throw our goblins against the wall and see where they stick--it's fine with me. sometimes, we can map out their entire lives and still not be able to cover everything that they're going to do.

i think it really depends. i definitely don't think the two are mutually exclusive and like... you can use one to contribute to the other.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : i like to write a lot so i'll err on the side of long threads. it takes a bit to find my groove and.... figure out what I want to say but often times, i find myself deleting things from my replies because they are a little too long and i don't want to make anyone feel like i'm dumping multiple paragraphs on them.

if it's a plotted thread or ask, though, you're getting a fucking novel and i'm not compromising on that :)

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES : for the most part, no. there are bits and pieces of my persona or things i would say/wear/do here and there.... but as a whole, i'm pretty different from my muses. i... don't think people would like me much if i was like any of my muses fr, though, so i'm good with just being me, myself, and I

i stole this from @distopea some time ago so steal it from me

#ツ ┊ ( mun memes & stuff. ) #.more deep marshy lore #.i haven't done a mun meme in hot minute #.but here we are~

[theoddshq]

NERO COMMONHART (barry keoghan fc) the odds are in your favor! Please report to your nearest Capitol Agent to be prepped for the 74th Annual Hunger Games!

ooc

Alias/Age/Pronouns/Timezone: nikki/26/she/her/central

Triggers: [REDACTED]

If you had to describe your muse as a canon Hunger Games character, or mix, who would you compare them to and why? He’s like… Katniss mixed with Johanna? But like a weird little freak version? 

Anything else? I hope I get accepted!!!

basics

[BARRY KEOGHAN, CIS MAN, HE/HIM] The 74th Annual Hunger Games are upon us and here comes NERO COMMONHART, a DISTRICT 12 TRIBUTE. Word around The Capitol is that they’re OBSERVANT and HARD-WORKING but can also be VENGEFUL and UNCARING. According to sources, they’re 24 and were once described as the runt of the family, a constant reminder of pain, taking hits to feel something, dry humor, and dreams deferred. What a character! As we always say, may the odds be ever in their favor!

biography

If he’d been born anywhere else, Nero’s life could’ve been completely different. Maybe he wouldn’t be here, at twenty-four, standing in front of his entire district with a black eye and permanent layer of soot under his nails, feeling certain this was the last time he’d hug his mother. She’d looked at him the same way since he was born– any maternal affection strained under a sheen of guilt, a twinge of grief that over the years wrinkled into the stubbornness of a hard-set jaw. This was the kind of face, Nero supposed, one could only find in the working districts, like 11 and 12. 

Sibylle and Evers Blackstone were like every other couple in District 12. They grew up together and had a brief courtship before they married; She was 16, he 17. At 18, Evers started working in the mines and newly-pregnant Sibylle gathered herbs and tended to her garden, creating a small harvest to sell and supplement their income. She gave birth to Mars in the summer, and he grew up to be the Blackstone family jewel, boisterous and strapping and admired. Diana came three years later and became Mother’s shadow, content to learn the soft parts of the earth. Life wasn’t perfect in District 12, but huddling together around the creaky kitchen table each night felt like enough.

When the warmth of family wasn’t enough to stave off the bitterness of a harsh existence and the daunting feeling that each of them were disposable in the long run… well, everyone had their ways of coping. Diana, the strongest in spirit of them all, favored wasting hours in midday with the schoolchildren, pretending for a while that she was one of them instead of a girl in the Seam, born to work. Mars quenched his need for adventure, for wide open spaces and possibility, in clandestine trips outside of the fence. The children knew better than to question Father on those days he came home reeking of the mines and a little something else, they knew not to ask about the way his big feet, once-graceful, tripped over the house’s uneven wooden slats. Sibylle, though, was an enigma. She would disappear for hours at a time once or twice a month, and aside from these vanishing acts, seemed perfectly content with her life.

They would later learn that Sibylle was making trips to see an old friend in town, Rian Commonhart. When Sibylle’s third child came out bearing Rian’s nose, it was impossible to deny the nature of their relationship. Hurt and embarrassed, Evers avoided his wife, electing to spend each evening at the tavern rather than watch her nurse another man’s son. Rumors say that this transgression ultimately led to Evers’ death six months later in a mining accident, people wondering if, perhaps, he wasn’t trying to escape something. Mars certainly agreed that it was Nero’s fault, and Diana was too shattered to make sense of it at all.

Nero grew up in this haze, with an inherent understanding that his very existence was a problem. He took his first steps while Mother watched lifelessly on from the table. Any attempt to engage with Mars and Diana were futile, so he was, in essence, an only child. He found solace in solitude and shadow, moving in silence and pilfering whatever he could get his hands on– books, tools, traps set in the woods. Nero took all of these things back to an abandoned mine shaft, the only place that felt like home. For the couple of years Nero had in school– age five to eleven– he stuck out like a sore thumb. He was hyperactive and talked to himself some, but was undeniably quick-witted. At his core, Nero knew he was smart, that maybe if he’d been born somewhere else he’d be an inventor or a writer.

But, he was wasted on 12, destined to be the recipient of his peers’ relentless need to ostracize and his brother’s neverending anger. Nero was smaller than the others his age, too, and certainly dwarfed in comparison to his step-brother, who not only had nine years on him but nearly a foot. Their fighting stayed verbal for a long time– anything from petty squabbles about who left the clothes on the line during the rain and blow-up fights about whether Nero should live with them or with his father, who hadn’t said more than ten words to him in ten years. 

Everything changed when Nero became a man. It felt like Mars had been saving up rage, tucking it away piece by piece and biding his time. Their first physical fight was the night of Nero’s thirteenth birthday. Out of her kindness, Diana had traded to get him a gift. A small, brass canary pin– a small token, but a sign that maybe he belonged here after all. When Mars learned that she’d entered her name in the reaping for this trinket, he was overcome with anger, sure that Nero had put her up to it, that Nero was conspiring to destroy the entire family from within. Mars quickly overpowered Nero, wailing on his face and his ribs and pinning him to the very same floorboards Mars’ father used to stumble across.

But every time, Nero got up, which only enraged Mars more. Nero learned that day that even if he wasn’t the strongest or the most skilled fighter, he could take a hit and get back up. The adrenaline rush was better than anything he’d felt– better than the whiskey he’d lifted from The Hob or the full, lazy feeling after an especially filling meal. He couldn’t get enough, and by the time he was fifteen, Nero had gone from using the old mine shaft for a hideout to hosting fights. There was no shortage of angry young men in 12, and it was an easy way to make a bit of income. Nero was never the best fighter, but his resilience became well-known among the regular crowd. Most saw the clandestine meetings as irresponsible at best and perverted at worst, and concerned parents and community members attempted to run Nero out of town on a handful of occasions– once because a fighter had lost hearing after being boxed repeatedly in an ear, another time because a particularly disgruntled fighter who remains unnamed traded his fists for a machete. 

It was the only place he belonged, and even there, it was predicated on not belonging– on the animalistic need to commit acts of raw violence or the twisted rush that came after a brush with death. They weren’t friends, any of them, more just strangers who shared a secret– but it was its own sort of release. Like everyone else, Nero began working in the mines at eighteen. With his first payment, Nero moved out of his mother’s house– far away from his brother, to a modest residence on the edge of town. His life of solitude wasn’t a good one, but it was his. At least, until his name was drawn out of a bowl at the front of town. 

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[REDACTED]

stats

Deceive - 3Fight - 2Lore (knowledge) - 1Notice - 3Physique - 2Provoke - 3Rapport - 1Resourcefulness - 1Stealth - 1Will - 2

extras

PINCHREST | SPOTIFY

#submission #nero #accepted #the hunger games #the hunger games rp #the hunger games roleplay #the hunger games rpg #hunger games #hunger games rp #hunger games roleplay #hunger games rpg #thg rp #thg roleplay #thg rpg #oc rp #mumu rp #dystopian rp #diverse rp #new rp #lit rp

[sassykattery]

Celebrations of the Heart, Pt. 3

If you saw me accidentally upload the wrong part, no, you didn't. Thank you to one of my readers for pointing it out. I was incredibly tired today, so let's blame it on that. I apologize for it nonetheless. I'll be reposting Part 4 on Saturday as planned, I'm very sorry for the mistake

Anyway, moving on.

CW: MC is afab, uses she/her pronouns. MC is a demon and poly. Not much to warn for, there is use for fem gendered term of endearment.

Themes: Romance.

Characters: MC="you", Mammon, Asmo, Beel, Satan, Levi, Belphie, Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Masterlist

Enjoy

"So, MC, anything tickle your fancy lately? We could go to Majolish and see if there's anythin' new in stock. I haven't been shoppin' in a while," Mammon said, stretched out on the couch next to you.

"MC! Darling! What do you think of this makeup set? You like it yeah? Also, when's the last time you've been to a spa?" Asmo chirped, showing you his D.D.D.

"Hey, MC, would you rather have Devildom food or human world food?" Beel asked you over a call. "No reason, I just want to know if your tastes have changed," he said.

"You definitely need some more books in your collection, MC," Satan mused, looking in your room. "I've read just about everything in here! Any new ones you want?"

"Hey, MC, I noticed you haven't updated your Akuzon wishlist in a while, maybe you should do that," Levi said as you two played Devil Kart. "Also, you and I haven't hung out, like outside the house in a while."

"I've noticed your pillows are getting kind of flat, MC, have you thought about getting new ones? Also, there's a new space exhibit opening up that I think might be cool to check out together, what do you think?" Belphie asked, sprawled out on your bedroom floor.

This had been going on for several days now, and the headache that threatened to take root only became more and more menacing with each question.

"Ah, MC," Lucifer's low voice smoothly called out to you, seeing your bedroom door open and you lying face down on your bed.

"If you are about to ask what I want for my birthday by circumventing it and saying I need something, followed by the suggestion we go do something, save it. Your brothers already ran that strategy to the ground," you growled.

Lucifer raised a delicate brow, stunned by your mood. Also, he was a tad disappointed because his brothers already ruined his ideas. Did they all really think that much alike? So instead, he changed the direction.

"No, I merely wanted to know if you wanted to come help me with dinner, since it's my turn," Lucifer replied coolly.

"I suppose," you groaned, getting off your bed. Lucifer leaned against the door frame and watched you, adoring your grumpy appearance. He held out his arms for you and you walked over like a zombie and merely shoved your head into his chest.

"Now, now, I know they can be exhausting, but it is to do something nice for you," he murmured to you. His voice rumbled in his chest, soothing your grouchy self.

"I know," you replied quietly into his waistcoat. He pulled away and took your hand, leading you to the kitchen as you two prepared that night's dinner.

"Tell me then, what have they dreamt up so far?" Lucifer inquired.

"Well, I'm fairly sure Asmo is getting me makeup. Satan will probably fill my room with new books. Belphie seems interested in getting me a new pillow? Beel is probably getting me... food?" You said, raising a brow in confusion.

Lucifer chuckled, "You don't seem terribly happy with any of those."

"Oh, quite the opposite. It's endearing, it's just they make everything into such a hassle. I just wish we could all have a good time together, no fights, no drama," you replied.

Lucifer raised his brow in surprise. It meant a lot that you still wished to celebrate with everyone, even if it occasionally ended it slight disaster. You two continued working together to make dinner, and you smiled, thinking about your vacation and making breakfast with him.

"Something humorous?" He inquired.

"Not at all, I was just remembering our flour fight that turned into something else," you stated, humming happily. Lucifer smiled too, also remembering the scene. He looked down at you, picturing you on the counter again and pounding into you.

He cleared his throat and turned, not wanting to get too caught up in those thoughts.

"I shall come out and simply ask, what would you like for your birthday, dove?" Lucifer asked, facing the fridge as he looked for something.

"From you? Nothing," you replied.

Lucifer stood straight and snapped his head at you. "Nothing? From me?"

You smiled and nodded, facing him. "You've given me a lot, more than I can recount, since we've met. I don't think you really need to give me anything at this point," you clarified.

Lucifer instantly knew what he was going to get you in that moment. He simply nodded and replied, "I'll have to figure something on my own then, won't I?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious. "That sounds concerning," you stated.

"Well, maybe if you had suggested something, you wouldn't have to be," he retorted. You rolled your eyes and helped him finish dinner.

-

After dinner, you and Lucifer cleaned up, you stewed on what it is he was going to get you. Now it somewhat drove you mad not knowing what it was, and he was going to tease you about it.

"Is it a pony?" You asked impishly.

"If that's what you want," Lucifer said over his shoulder. You put your hands on your hips and stared at his backside.

"A new car?"

"That would be intriguing, wouldn't it?" He replied.

"Tell me," you pleaded, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your head into his back.

"No, you had your chance. Now I know what I'm getting and will be keeping it a secret, so you'd best stop asking, little demoness," he said in a warning tone.

You huffed, letting it go for now. Lucifer smirked as you walked away, and he put the last plate away. What a brat, he thought, though, it was out of fondness for your behavior. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

As you walked into your bedroom, you looked at your study materials. With a sigh, you sat and began working, though your thoughts drifted elsewhere. Dinner went well, seemingly your new schedule working to keep everyone content as they got their time with you. You couldn't help but miss the castle, Diavolo in particular.

-

Diavolo raked his hands through his hair, rereading what he wrote in his book. He looked over at his picture of you and sighed, putting his pen down in favor of holding the frame. His thumb ran over your face. It was back when you were human, and though you didn't look terribly different, except for the eyes, he often thought back to those times when you and Diavolo first started dating.

"Young Master?" Barbatos said from the doorway.

"Ah, Barbatos, come in," Diavolo said, putting the photo back.

"Thinking about MC?" Barbatos asked, knowing which photo belonged in the frame he was holding.

"Indeed. It seems your advice has helped me considerably," Diavolo replied.

"Ah, but what were you thinking just now? You looked rather nostalgic. Might I guess it's something about when MC was human?"

"Always on the nose, Barbatos. I couldn't help but think about how easy things were back then, when we first started dating," Diavolo said.

The butler tilted his head in thought. "Maybe so, my lord, but I seem to recall there being a different set of struggles back then too. So why is it you are unable to focus?"

Diavolo's face dropped, a rather serious frown taking over. "You said I always make the right decision. I tell myself that with every move I make, but I feel like when it comes to her, I often make the wrong one."

"My young lord, might I remind you no one has ever said love isn't complicated? This is the first time you are having to consider someone else as much as yourself. It's different, is it not? She's her own person with thoughts and feelings, much different than our own. It takes time, but you two will learn to acknowledge these differences for what they are, and navigate them with grace and mutual understanding," Barbatos explained.

Diavolo was silent after that, deeply considering his butler's words. They hit home, again, something he didn't consider. He looked down at his book again and smiled. "Once again, I owe you my thanks," he stated.

"I am in favor of this being successful, just as much as you are, my lord," Barbatos stated. The prince nodded. Barbatos left Diavolo to continue working late into the night.

---

Thank you for reading <3

Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.

Tags: @delphi-dreamin @leavesandflowers @itsmeninerz @flemmingbamse @obeymediasimp @frozengoldie @marvelous-maniac

#obey me #obey me shall we date #sassywrites #sassystories #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #love-eternal #obey me diavolo #lucifer x afab reader #diavolo x femreader

[crystalmarred]

GET TO KNOW YOUR ADMIN !!

name — Allen, but some call me Joker.

pronouns — They/Them, but He/Him works.

preferred comms — Depends! I use Tumblr IM until I figure out if I'm actually going to talk to the person. I have, way too many times, added someone to Discord and later removed them when they didn't seem interested in talking. So I stick to Tumblr IMs for a while, then switch to Discord.

name of muse — I'm a multi-muse, so that's a list that's getting a little long. Primary canon muses are Erenville and A'aba Tia. Original characters are A'atahni Tia, Liun'a Jakkaya and X'kijin Lyzej—who is sometimes a Warrior of Light, depending.

experience in RP — I've been role playing since I was... 9? Might have been a bit earlier. Started in an old Inuyasha chatroom before upgrading to forums where I got used to routinely writing 800+ word replies, since it was a requirement in some of those RPs. Moved to Tumblr in... 2014, I think? Been here off and on since.

best experiences — I would hesitate to call anything the best, but probably one of my best experiences would be role playing as of late. I came back to Tumblr with, initially, the intent to write only with existing friends. Instead, I met two people that have become such good friends, that have really rekindled a lot of the love for RP that I used to have. Meeting two people completely by chance and having that friendship extend beyond RP, beyond the ships we share, into playing games, watching movies, partaking of things the others like is really nice and not as common as I feel it used to be.

pet peeves / dealbreakers — Negativity and aesthetics are the obvious ones, as those are in my rules. Apart from that, I hate it when people are passive in their interactions and assume my characters will blindly chase after them. If I receive a starter where a character is sitting quietly, not speaking to anyone, I didn't get a starter. I got exposition so that I could come up with a situation and write a starter for someone who didn't want to write one.

muse preference ( fluff, angst, smut ) — I don't really write smut, but I love fluff and angst. Where angst is concerned, I prefer something along the lines of hurt/comfort, not just angst. I find angst and only angst to be a bit overwhelming sometimes.

plot or memes — Either! I like to plot things; I also like winging it. I can usually do either, even for muses that I don't know. The big thing for me is that threads still need to have substance. If things don't feel like they have direction or devolves into pointless small talk, I get bored.

long or short replies — I have a preference for multi-para replies. I feel like anyone following me should know this, just based on the replies that I do. Short replies don't last long for me. I have my fun with them and stop replying once they begin to bore me. I consider them good for testing the waters, but not much else.

best time to write — Late nights. I struggle with being able to focus, so late nights being slower with less going on is probably why I find it easiest to write when it's late. I tend to get more done quicker.

are you like your muse — I like to think most people have something in common with their muses. I definitely share bits and pieces with mine, like X'kijin and I are both chronic nappers. Liun'a puts on a strong front because of trust issues. A'aba is a little on the obnoxious side. Nok'to is commonly referred to as "the anxiety cat". So on and so forth.

Tagged by: @more-than-a-princess (thank you, Rae!!) Tagging: @hyaciiintho, @vierandancer & @starsasunder, if y'all want to! Also @oathofpromises & @diademreigned since I mentioned y'all's lovely selves already.

#✧ out of character. #// ooc. thank you for the tag rae!! i appreciate you!

[dcviated]

GET TO KNOW YOUR ADMIN !!

name — Bear/Will.

pronouns — he/him.

preferred comms — Checking in and quick chats over tumblr im are fine. But if we're going to get into plotting I'd much much much prefer to talk over discord. Because then I can refer back to the posts. Going through tumblr ims should be classified as a form of torture. Pour one out for all the stuff I've lost in there over the years.

name of muse — Which one?? I've got several. Some are 'mains' others are 'testing'. The big three as I see it are Wylan Rechtur- shitlord assassin. Raguna Glen- Farm sim protag. And Eira Kestrova- Bossy mom friend tsundere.

experience in RP — Coming up on 17 or 18 years I think? From starting out on forums to avatar games to MMOs, and now I'm primarily writing here on tumblr though there's a bit of forum and tiny amounts of discord tossed in. But the latter feels off to me. I always prefer more public venues with opportunities for sharing and prompting random questions and meeting new people.

best experiences — Here on tumblr, I'd say. I've met some great people and have come through with probably the best characterization some of these muses have ever seen. Won't get into anything too specific, but suffice to say I've kept some people around for yeeeeears for a reason!!

pet peeves / dealbreakers — I've got so many I'm worried for myself. But aside from the obvious lack of response or enthusiasm, unanswered memes and starters, it would be this: People that come to you for writing (repeatedly) while contributing nothing to the plotting or selection process. Anytime someone looks at you and waits for you to paint a picture of an interaction through a roster of muses and genres and then set it up while going "I dunno" to any question asked?

Guhhhh!!! Give me a break!!! RP is a two person activity. Especially when I barely know your characters. Try and sell something to me!

Another thing that's gotten to me in recent years is an over-use of meta commentary and referential humor. I do this sparingly with Wylan, but too much and you feel like you're on an episode of family guy instead of writing a scene or interaction.

muse preference ( fluff, angst, smut ) — I am... an adventure and action and banter kind of guy. Which doesn't really fall under any of these categories. However, the preference would be fluff. Feel good stuff or anything that makes you smile. Angst, I'm not great at, and I've realized I don't care for it when it's sad or angsty for the sake of being sad. Give it purpose, give it a resolution of some kind. I don't much care for bad ends.

As for smut... I'm mixed. I like writing it but after giving it a shot again have accepted I don't much care for things after foreplay if it's in a thread. Headcanons that are lewd? Yes. Answering lewd/nsfw asks? Yes. But the back and forth is kind of eh.

I deleted my sideblog for a reason. </3

plot or memes — I like adlibbing. And I like improv now and then. There's a pitfall depending on the writing partner with plotting- and it's that you just talk about the plot and the end instead of letting it develop and having things happen. There should be some room for surprises and twists that nobody was expecting. Laying out the whole timeline piece by piece can remove the enthusiasm to.... write it!

Memes are a great way to get started with everyone, especially the situation prompts since it's a little more flexible. I find myself less enthused with contextless sentence prompts lately. And I may start reblogging less of those and letting the more fun ones get a spotlight.

long or short replies — Mixed. I can't novella on command anymore, but depending on the interaction my fingers do get away from me on lengths and what have you. Overall I prefer something in the middle. 400ish words feels comfortable, and conveys enough information without conversations stacking on top of each other. The longer a post goes the more often that seems to happen. And you can get into temporal errors where situations change on past conversations that happened in the same post and.!??!?!? Yeah.

I also do enjoy the occasional banter of one liners and shitposting. But it'll never be the focus of this blog. And is almost guaranteed to get longer over time to the point that it becomes a multi-para thread.

best time to write — When I'm not busy at the office. Quiet space with less things to distract me. I can get into a good productive mindset really fast and knock out multiple drafts in an hour. Feels great. Otherwise I think it's early mornings where I do the best on days off. Evenings are times of distraction, so much distraction.

are you like your muse — I put a little bit of myself in all my muses, otherwise I probably wouldn't be able to relate and make a convincing portrayal or conflict. Wylan used to have a lot more of my traits in the past. But he is far and above his own problematic beast now and I'm glad I don't have as much in common anymore jfc.

Tagged by: @more-than-a-princess (thanks B) a chance for me to look scary) Tagging: whoever is inclined to do it :V

#dash :: games ooc

[c0rvidbones]

Out of all your OCs, who's your favorite and why?

>:D YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD OF A QUESTION THIS IS BUT IVE BEEN DYING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ABOUT MY OCS

GAH okay okay its a HUGE tossup between two of them and it doesn't help they are Brothers but I think I will have to say it's Umbra! Infodump that's super long and also art by my sick ass friend under the cut.

This is him! My feral bastard man, the one with the blue hair and pronouns! I realised while selecting these I literally do not own a single piece of art that is him by himself, he's basically glued to the hip of his husband, Penchant (written by my friend over at @/cherryfull, who also does draw all of this GORGEOUS art. The other person in the very last picture is his little brother, Axel)

Please know Umbra isn't small, Pen is just a fucking Giant of a man at a hearty 6'7"

[Quick info; he is a like 5'8-5'10 ish polynesian-french transman and a [very, Very fallen] angel of knowledge, and he struck a deal with the primordial Chaos to share and gain all the knowledge he possibly could in order to bolster his magic to an unreasonable level when he calls on it.]

He's a weird little man who I have been writing for like, 11?? Years now? He started out SO different, all warm and bright, passive and pastel/cottagecore, but through all of his batshit insane Events he's ended up this goth mildly aggressive edgelord (affectionate) who is mean for fun but is also still secretly helpful.

I think a huge part of him being my favourite, aside from him literally being my oldest, is that he has always been how I processed a lot of stressful things and got through unhappy times. I love calling his current era his "villain era" but it literally kicked off with him deciding to stop being a doormat of a boy and stand up for himself. Most of what he does is direct response to his own boundaries as he is STILL learning how to set them.

That said, he did once break someone's leg and dispose of them on said someone's ex boyfriend's doorstep with a boxed homemade cheesecake that said Happy Birthday on it; it was because those two were Yet Again pining for each other but were not doing Anything about it, and it was driving him nuts. He's still the village bastard because of this, and, even if it was a really convoluted plan to get those two back together, it wasn't exactly something a Normal and Sane man would do.

He also has a BLATANT disrespect for personal space with others most of the time, at least in terms of their homes. He has often and frequently, Uninvited, portalled into other people's homes. It has caused more than one fight, and once he agrees to not coming over unless he has asked permission or invited, he usually stops coming altogether because to him, it's no longer "fun."

I know, I know, you may be asking, why do you love this objectively terrible man, Observatory. Well, you see. I find him very funny. YES I know I write him but my very small rp group all agree sometimes the muse writes themselves and in the case of Umbra, he does so often and with wild abandon. He got jealous of a set of weights his husband put on his back and frisbee'd them into the wall so he could perch there like he usually does instead. He nearly threw a vampire off a yacht into a river because they were eyeing him a little too much. He regularly makes Nyquil Chicken and gives it to unsuspecting fools who, for some reason, keep forgetting he loves giving people Nyquil Chicken. Do you see why he's hilarious to me.

ALSO, while yes he is a terrible person with zero (well, One, but he's his sister-in-law's husband's brother so. Distant-ish family?) friends outside of direct family by marriage, if you DO manage to earn his loyalty, he is actually not just a Better person to you, but he is a Kind and Caring and VICIOUSLY protective person. He seeks out bountiful physical contact and often offers food and company, he will help you with everything in his power (which is a lot, because yeah, he has kinda ended up overwhelmingly overpowered because of RP events) when you need it. He doesn't like to use his healing magic anymore, it feels too much like an echo of the doormat boy he used to be, but if he cares, Actually cares about you, he will offer it, and it will mean the World.

Unfortunately because of how complex he's become over the years, he's nearly impossible to RP with new people because he has such Thick history and I, an autistic person and his creator, can't help myself and will talk about him nonstop whenever possible.

tl;dr He's an awful person but he makes me laugh and that's the most important thing.

#me #c0rvidspeaks #ask #ask me about my ocs #im so sorry asker #this is just my favourite bastard man ever #umbra #pen and umbra #penumbra #umbra trylle #pen trylle #anon

[malboraslihan]

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐃 & 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔

after deciding on a last minute elopement wedding, we've finally found a way to make it up to you, our friends, for the very private ceremony and, of course, to celebrate our union. starting june 13th, we'll be taking a one month long bachelor/bachelorette trip around europe together, ending just a week before we fly to tie the knot. all flying and accommodation expenses are on us, we'll be sending your personal flight information as well as the trip's itinerary through email. see you soon!

plot: michael & elise have been together for what feels like forever. they went to high school together, almost broke up during graduation but decided to stay together even though their colleges were on opposite sides of the country. a few years later, elise joined michael in new york and they moved in together. it was no surprise when they announced their engagement but it was definitely weird when the couple decided on an elopement wedding instead of a big party, as their family would've liked. ignoring all complaints from family and friends, they'll be flying to japan on the second week of july to tie the knot and celebrate their honeymoon there.

 as for their friends, they’ll have to settle for a one month long trip across europe, michael’s idea. instead of having two separate parties, the couple has decided to bring all their closest friends together and have a never ending celebration around multiple countries of europe, celebrating their love through the places they’ve visited together before. they’ve covered most expenses, to make sure all their friends could make it. little did they know, money was never the problem, but who would be tagging along. 

tl;dr: a couple that is getting married and decides to do a trip with their friends instead of separete bachelor/bachelorette plans but, of course, their friends aren’t really friends and some of them don't even get along.

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

1. your usual rp etiquette: no god modding, try to interact and plot with everyone. please, no ooc drama and if there’s any issues contact me privately so i can handle it directly. 

2. muns and fcs must be over 21, the age range for muses is 24-29, fcs must follow the 5 year rule. no problematic fcs, the usual banned: no dead fcs, minors, people who have stated before they don’t want to be used in rps, all that jazz. i also reserve the right to deny any fc that makes me or anyone else uncomfortable. 

3. please don’t join if you’re not planning on being active. i understand school, college, work and all that can get in the way and that this is only a hobby but in order for a group to work people must be present at least once or twice in the day or a few hours a week.

4. this won’t be first come first serve, each mun can apply for one muse. note that though the group is a 5x5 that does not mean a male x female ratio, that is simply to say there will be 5 friends from the groom’s side and five from the bride’s side, those can be from any gender. 

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

( faceclaim, age, gender, pronouns ) FIRST LAST NAME should be here already, check in is about to start. i knew when MICHAEL/ELISE invited them that they would cause trouble, but, to be fair, they’ve known each other since WHEN THEY MET THE GROOM/BRIDE. did you hear they are a/an OCCUPATION now? they've been known for 3-5 AESTHETICS, so i won't be surprised if they're first to start shit. whatever, i just hope we can all have a good time. ( mun name/alias, url, tmz, age )

example:  ( neve campbell, twenty-five, cis female, she/her ) SYDNEY PRESCOTT should be here already, check in is about to start. i knew when ELISE invited them that they would cause trouble, but, to be fair, they’ve known each other since THEY WERE NEIGHBORS AS KIDS. did you hear they are a WRITER now? they've been known for TALKING TOO MUCH ABOUT MURDER AND TRUE CRIME, STRESSING ABOUT SAFETY A BIT TOO MUCH & SHITTING ON HER EX BOYFRIEND AFTER ONE GLASS OF WINE, so i won't be surprised if they're first to start shit. whatever, i just hope we can all have a good time. ( ghostface, staff, est, 21+ )

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 

#discord rp #okay so just a very simple interest check??? #cause i've been thinking about this way too much #and i'm obsessed with the potential :/ #so yeah #would be a small thing like 5x5? #or even 7x7 i don't really know tbh #plot under readmore if its not clear enough #and hmu if u have any questions #so yeah <3 #the graphic is ugly ive been tired

[surgingchef]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

name. Oliver or Ollie but you can call me Ollie! :D

pronouns. she/they.

preference of communication. Discord is much easier than Tumblr IMs.

name of muse. Kofu the Surging Chef.

rp experience / how long. I’ve been roleplaying on Tumblr for about two years now but in general, I’ve been roleplaying for about 9+ years or so. I was nine or ten years old when I got into roleplaying. Yes, I was a child when I got exposed to the internet long before I hit the age of nine to ten years old.

best experience. Personally, I enjoyed roleplaying on Tumblr before Tumblr changed everything. I used to have a lot of fun and I get to write whatever I write but nowadays, people are becoming rather opinionated and biased on what others write and they assume it’s bad and then they call you out instead of coming to talk to you one on one and tell you what you’re writing is bad or good. I write dark content and angst from time to time but if that bothers people, you shouldn’t be on my blog at all. Hardblock me or do something but do not call me out when you haven’t talked to me about what I write. This should probably be under my RP pet peeves / deal breakers but at the moment, I’m keeping this separate away from RP pet peeves / deal breakers.

rp pet peeves / deal breakers. Multi-paragraphs only to be given one-liners. People not reading pages about the character’s bios and then misgendering them on purpose. However, I will understand if you read my page about the character I write but accidentally forget that they go by their preferred pronouns. For some reason, I feel like people doesn’t read my pages and I’ve been debating to add a password that’s optional and then replying to asks that can be OOC or IC.

fluff, angst, or smut. All of them. However, I do smut on Discord. I’m thinking about expanding smut to Tumblr but I’m still thinking about it.

long or short replies. Both! I most likely try to fit my partners’ writing length so I’m adaptable.

best time to write. Morning, when I’m drinking my coffee and in the evening. Mostly all day long though.

are you like your muse. Yes, I am similar to Kofu! I can be quite forgetful where I put my stuff and I do have ADHD. Sometimes, I feel like Kofu and I are quite similar in a lot of ways except I don’t really cook. I’m still learning how to cook.

tagged by. @dxmesticbliss​​

tagging. @advnterccs , @countlessrealities , @sparksofdaylight , @hibanakabu , @archclergy , @flarefeu , @picavecalyx​ , @twindragonsprophecy , @lightyourpyre​ , and to those who would like to do this!

#🌊⥽ ooc ⥼ #🌊⥽ long post ⥼