Reblog this post to be added to the DC COMICS RP MASTERLIST, with YOUR MUSE'S NAME, ALIAS (if they have one), if they're a CANON, ORIGINAL, or CROSSOVER character, and if your blog is SINGLE MUSE, MULTIMUSE, or VERSE ONLY.
If you want us to reblog your promos, we track #DCMASTERLISTS.
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He gave me a home AND a purpose. And I will PROTECT it at all costs.
©️©️
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Open to: m/f/nb and anyone so long as they are some shade of supernatural.
Concept: Chris is a mutant with the ability to block other people's power/magic at will. Your muse has had some trouble accessing their power for whatever reason and pointed fingers at Chris, so now they're gonna have to figure out what's going on together.
"Yes, I can block your power," he started plainly as he walked back into the room with an unamused expressión. "And no, I'm not currently doing it."
He wasn't the biggest fan of being accused of things he didn't do, but he figured the whole situation was troublesome enough for them to come directly to him for this matter. If there was someone out there with his same ability to block others, now he wanted to know about it... And keep tabs.
"In fact, I don't think I've ever blocked you specifically before... So whatever's going on with your act, it ain't me. But you've got me intrigued; when did this start happening again?"
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𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 -- a multi-muse featuring characters from multiple fandoms. saved from shit fandoms and shit writers by cori. only for audiences 21+. promo credit. please note that if you don't have a pinned post with accessible information, i will not follow you. the majority of themes are unreadable for me and tend to trigger migraines, so i need to able to access your information in order to follow. no accessibility = automatic softblock.
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muse: Steve Rogers
limit: 18+ only please, mutuals and non-mutuals
set: a coffee shop in Brooklyn, post-Endgame
open to: other MCU/comics muses, multifandom crossovers, ocs, whatever!
triggers: canon-typical, nothing specific
Steve Rogers on the Moon. He honestly worried about where people got their information. He couldn't help smirking a little at the headline as he tucked the newspaper under his coffee cup. He was very much in New York City, had never left it, in fact, except for that brief business of returning the time stones. The people closest to him knew that, but he was keeping a low profile otherwise while Sam decided if he wanted to take up the Captain America mantle. He was glad to pass on the spotlight, but Steve of all people knew the weight of the shield. He wouldn't blame him if he decided not to pick it up. Either way, that choice was Sam's to make now.
Retirement didn't really suit him though. Idleness never had. It was always nice in those first days and weeks after a fight to suddenly have time for himself, and there was plenty of fallout from the Battle of Earth that needed attention. There was only so much running, boxing, sketching, and tinkering with the bikes Steve could tolerate though, and he could already feel the familiar restlessness creeping back in. At its worst, that feeling had him lying to join the army and letting a German scientist experiment on him, so he needed to find a way to channel it before things got that bad.
There was a half-finished sketch of his view from the coffee shop window on the drawing pad in front of him. It was his favorite place to draw, a local place with plenty of windows and not a lot of foot traffic after the morning rush. Steve's idea of a disguise was a baseball cap and maybe a pair of sunglasses if he was feeling extra, so it was better if he just stayed out of heavily populated areas. Anyone who knew him well could find him there though, and he never minded the company.
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( BRKNALLURE ) : independent &. private &. selective multimuse roleplay blog featuring both original and canon characters from different fandoms like marvel comics / mcu, dc comics, elder scrolls: skyrim, nordic myth, greek myth, &. more. triggering and mature themes present. loved by ghost. they / them. 29.
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❝ 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 '𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. ❞
Indie fandomless vampire slayer oc. penned by mango.
blog | carrd | template credit
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑!
⚡️ independent, highly selective, plot driven portrayal of thor odinson of the marvel cinematic universe. 21+ only. read guidelines before following. written by bri. ⚡️
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"For him, it's like it's fucking effortless. Everyone loves him. Ooo Peter. Your life is so terrible. You poor orphan boy. You're a r e a l genius..." It's not fair!
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THERE'S GONNA COME A DAY WHEN YOU FEEL BETTER. you'll rise up free and easy on that day. float from branch to branch, lighter than the air. but just when that day is coming, who can say? an original character, by kc.
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Independent and Multi Muse RP Blog Featuring Muses from Stranger Things, DC, Marvel, and Evil Dead
Low activity/Queue based
Discord open to mutuals for Plotting only
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❝ courage is not the absence of fear, courage is acting in spite of fear ❞ - Carly Fiorina
temp credit. Blog | Carrd |
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He gave me a home AND a purpose. And I will PROTECT it at all costs.
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❝ You're going to lose. ❞
Indie Loki of the MCU. Centered in Thor (2011), Avengers (2012), and Thor: The Dark World. template credit. written by mango.
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୨⎯ "NEW INTERACTION CALL" ⎯୧
↳ LIKE if it’s okay for Jessica to interact with you and your muse!!
↳ REPLY if there is a specific relationship you want with her!! (Romantic, familial, friends, etc)
↳ Rt to spread!! ‧₊˚.
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muse: Steve Rogers (MCU/616 mashup)
limit: 18+ only please, mutuals and non-mutuals
set: 51st Street subway station in NYC, any Earth/dimension; 2.5 years post-snap (MCU timeline); immediately after the events of Castaway in Dimension Z (616 timeline)
open to: other Marvel/comics muses, multifandom crossovers, ocs, whatever!
triggers: death/child death, self-harm, severe injury/blood, brainwashing, explosions, abduction
Eleven years. It had been hard to keep track of the time in Zola's dimension, where even the sun and stars didn't move in any predictable pattern, but he'd been able to guess at the number watching his son grow up. In truth, he had no idea who Ian shared his genetics with. He didn't want to hazard a guess at where or how Zola had procured an infant in a test tube, but regardless of the biology, Ian was his kid. He'd raised him, fought for him, told him stories of the Avengers to help him fall asleep, taught him how to use the shield, how to use his gifts to protect. He knew Zola had been trying to recreate the super soldier serum, and to some extent it must have worked. Ian was stronger and faster than the average human, but he was good too, not a trace of Zola in him.
And now he was gone. Ian. Sharon. Jet. The portal back to Dimension Z destroyed when the subway tunnel collapsed behind him. Steve didn't know how he was cursed to be the last man standing every time. The one who threw himself on grenades and punched Nazis and arm-wrestled Titans, and he was still here, against all odds, even when he would have preferred to lay down his life for the ones he loved. It was harder, Steve knew, to be the one who carried on. Before Z, it had been Thanos, half the universe snapped away in an instant. God, it felt like a lifetime ago. He didn't know, yet, that time moved differently in Dimension Z, and only minutes had passed in his world, leaving him a man out of time, once again.
Assuming he didn't bleed out on this dirty floor. He'd stumbled off the inter-dimensional elevator, tucked away inside a subway station, and that was far as he got before he slumped to the ground, back to the concrete wall, defeat heavy on his shoulders. The stab wound in his abdomen was self-inflicted and still trickling blood where he'd tried to carve out whatever Zola had infected him with--his own consciousness, it felt like. He'd had that fucker's voice in his head for a decade, but it was quiet now.
He might have drifted, but the sound of footsteps snapped his head up. On your feet, soldier. Can't just sit here and wait to die. You listen close, Steven. You always stand up. He pressed a hand over the wound, not quite stifling a groan as he hauled himself to his feet. Steve's pain tolerance would put most people on their knees, but goddamn, that hurt. "Hello?" he called. The shield still hung on his arm, battered and scratched from a decade in hell, much like Steve himself. He wasn't even positive the elevator had brought him back to his own dimension following the explosions, but the sign on the wall still said 51st street, so that was something.
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