exitstcgeright

[exitstcgeright]

I’m goin’ iconless, just so everyone knows.

[exitstcgeright]

Blog Notice!!

As promised, seeing as it’s March 14th, Snufkin is back and ready to interact with people!! Sorry for the wait, if any threads from before want to be dropped in lieu of the lull, that’s fine!!

[exitstcgeright]

———  BASICS! ♡

NAME! ♡  Crown! PRONOUNS! ♡  He/They, I’m nb! ZODIAC SIGN! ♡ Libra. TAKEN OR SINGLE! ♡ Taken !!

———  THREE  FACTS! ♡

1! ♡  I have the attention span of a seven year old, unless I’m hyperfixating. 2! ♡  I have high impulse control most of the time. 3! ♡  I have a weak sense of self but I am full of love.

———  EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED! ♡  A lot; mainly Tumblr and Discord.

———  MUSE  PREFERENCE! ♡

FEMALE OR MALE! ♡ Masculine presenting muses; one day I’ll have a girl. LEAST FAVORITE FACE(S)! ♡ Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, pass. MULTI OR SINGLE! ♡ Multi-muse bc what is keeping track of characters, pff. FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡ All, but I prefer angst for a reason, fluff in moderation and smut,,, If it makes sense. I prefer development and building relationships. PLOT / MEMES! ♡ Both; plotting is preferred for long-term things though... TAGGED BY! ♡ Stole it from @vestiallus ;3c

TAGGING! ♡ @smoke-and-rain @zachtlcw @musetory

[exitstcgeright]

Nothing is more confusing than seeing a new url and not knowing wHOM THE FUCK IT IS. Sorry if I confusedly unfollow and then refollow after realizing oH RIGHT.

[exitstcgeright]

musetory‌:

          The hand is a comfort, warm and steady and it somehow bolsters Leo’s confidence some. It’s something like a desire to make the other proud that has him pulling himself up a little bit taller. He can feel some of his nerves settling under the older man’s gaze as his lips twitch into a kind of smile.

           “Thank you.”

::❮♔❯::

At the sight of that smile, his other hand comes to join it’s mate on Leonardo’s shoulders and gives them another supportive squeeze. Perhaps not everything is fixed, but there’s less of a heavy cloud over the smaller man. That would have to be enough for the moment, Klaus’ lips mirror the smile with equally as much faintness.

“Of course.”

But, that brought about wondering what had prompted such a question in the first place. It hadn’t happened recently with him or Steven... Maybe Zapp? Green eyes refocus on Leonardo, gentle despite the severity of Klaus’ resting expression.

“Was there something in particular that prompted the question before?”

[exitstcgeright]

skybinds‌:

          ❛  UH  WELL,  the  door  was  …  open,  so  i  went  in  …  ❜  kamber  for  klaus  !!  @exitstcgeright​  .

::❮♔❯::

The door being open is a pressing worry, though it’s not the first time they’ve encountered a struggle with the hidden entrances scattered amid the city. Perhaps he should reproach the young lady, but it’s not in his nature. Instead, he crosses the distance between them with slow steps and carefully levels a meaningful stare with her.

“I’m sorry to trouble you. This isn’t a usual occurrence, you see.”

He doesn’t move to tell her to leave, admittedly he’s curious... And he’d like to know the state of the door that lead her inside. How she’d ended up here is anyone’s guess.

[exitstcgeright]

this body is home, my childhood is buried here, my sleep rises and sets inside, desire crested and wore itself thin between these bones— I live here.

— Lisel Mueller, from “A Nude by Edward Hopper,” The Private Life

[exitstcgeright]

i rely a bit too heavily on alcohol and sarcasm.

[exitstcgeright]

And how am I here? With my life intact? I’m painful to the touch only when I don’t light a candle and praise oblivion, give myself over to nothingness—and is it every day or was it long ago, that I’d slid shut my teenage self’s veranda doors and stepped onto the world’s fancy balconies and was prepared to do something drastic like live and live and live.

— Bianca Stone, from “Ones Who Got Away with It,” The Möbius Strip Club of Grief

[exitstcgeright]

karaktcrs‌:

“Yes, it’s me!” Rosinante’s voice is shaking. He has always been someone who feels very strong emotions. But this time it’s even stronger than usual because he cares so much about Law. It has been 13 years since the last time he saw him. 13 long years. It’s so wonderful to see him again! To know that he’s alive and breathing and– and–

“You’re alive! You survived! Oh I’m so happy that Doffy didn’t get you and that you cured yourself and–” And then it hits him. It has been 13 years and Law is an adult now. Law got a future and grew up. Law continued to live after curing himself. It makes Rosinante cry even louder and harder. “You’ve grown so much! Look at you! You’re an adult! I’m so incredibly happy!”  

He can still remember the child he was trying so hard to save so many years ago. The child who was so done with the world. A bitter child who wanted to fight everyone and could possibly end up like Doflamingo. Rosinante couldn’t bear that look in the poor kid’s eyes back then. Eventually his heart told him that he had to do something. Trying to scare him away wouldn’t be enough because who knew where he would end up? He most likely would’ve ended up dying! There was the possibility that someone would kill him! Or the disease would kill him! Or! No, he couldn’t just let the poor boy continue to suffer like this. Something had to be done.

It took forever to find a way to cure Law. But all that travelling was worth it. Because Law is here. He’s right here– in his arms.

Making him go through all that pain during every visit to a hospital is still something that makes Rosinante feel guilty, though. Those doctors were cruel for not wanting to help and believing that the disease was contagious. And don’t let him get started on their responses in general. Part of him hopes that they aren’t doctors anymore. A doctor who is so incredibly cruel doesn’t deserve to be one.

“Law…” 

::❮💀❯::

Every word is a thud in his skull, trying to make sense of his thoughts as his heart leaps into his throat and makes any attempt at replying impossible. It feels like a years — thirteen years — worth of emotions are trying to push themselves out of his skin, through the pores of his skin and bleed out in a puddle at his feet. Emptying him out until he was a tired void husk, but finally the pressure is gone. There’s too much for him to even begin to guess at what he’s feeling, shaking hands fisting tighter into black feathers — harder so much that they cramp. Tears burn against his cheeks and eyes, shoving his face helplessly at the scratchy coat, hiccups and awful sobs leaving him. Breathing is a chore, leaving him choked as if he’s trying to cry out all the pain that’s been sitting balanced on his chest, on his heart.

Law feels sick and relieved at the same time, warm and cold by the conflict buried deep inside him. Relief that this was proving to be true, but the sadist — realist inside him won’t give it up completely that reality wasn’t this kind. Shaking like a leaf, toes swinging in the air listlessly. Rosinante is his only anchor in the all encompassing drowning sensation. He’d never even expected he’d have this many tears to shed, having spent so many years dry-eyed in the face of all manner of macabre and cruelty. And yet, he wrenches his eyes open and sees only feathers, black — black ones. Ones he can stand. Ones he’s worn himself, a homage he’d never explained to anyone ever, the impracticality of a crest of down on a shirt wasn’t worth asking why.

His name only makes another broken sob leave him, teeth gritting against the sounds behind it as he swallows but they knock around in his chest painfully. Convulsions from how hard his body is trying to cope with the feelings inside him. Grief, joy, anxiety anxiety anxiety. So much has happened, so much laying distance between them and it rushes up at him like the ground and leaves him still hiccuping but suddenly bleary eyed… Suddenly firmly seated in reality. Law’s voice is a hoarse croak when he speaks.

“How…?”

Wanting to bite his tongue in two immediately upon asking, however meek and childish his tone was. Just wanting to know, just wanting that assurance. How are you alive? What miracle had allowed him to regain just one fucking piece of his life that had been torn away from him? His arms still shake, feeling so much like twigs where they cling to plumage — alive. Both of them, against impossible odds? He wrenches his face away from that strong shoulder, fumbling his aching fingers to grab for a tear-stained face and smear the makeup on his mouth. Red, red like blood and it’s pathetic, disgusting how grounding it is. Humans beings are born in blood, it’s not so strange to find comfort in it. His breathing is still erratic, but his eyes are focused.

“Cora-san. How did… You survive all those shots?”

All at once, he’s thirteen years old again. Pathetic and sick, helplessly staring out of the treasure chest at the man — body… corpse — who’d given everything to save him. To protect him. Who’d handed him a chance at life when Law had already tossed away any desire to try. It’s not that he doubts him, to doubt one’s saviour is the greatest insult. But… How?

[exitstcgeright]

“I’ve been in love with you for so long,“ he says. “How long?” “So long. I can’t remember what not loving you feels like. I can’t even imagine it.””

— Sue Zhao

[exitstcgeright]

“The next person who calls me a man, better buy me dinner.”

[exitstcgeright]

“ that’s the last thing we need right now.” / kimizuki

Red Dead Redemption 2 | (accepting)

::❮⚔️❯::

“Then what’s your plan?”

Maybe it comes off a bit snippy — usually he was better about it with superiors, if only because he had no choice. Slip-ups happened, his temper rose at poor times. This wasn’t one of those times, but if the answer that came wasn’t clear… He would probably snap completely. The colonel was, unfortunately, no exception. For now, though, he’ll wait in tense silence — patiently.

@skyslotus

[exitstcgeright]

*: ･ﾟ✧   red dead redemption 2 ( part 2 )

feel free to change pronouns, etc!

“ how’d you get on?”

“ that’s the last thing we need right now.”

“ well, it is what it is.”

“ i need some rest.”

“ i haven’t slept in three days.”

“ how you doing?”

“ i need you to… i’m sorry, i’m sorry to ask, but…”

“ at least go take a look.”

“ i know if the situation were reversed and… he’d look for me.”

“ he wouldn’t leave. not like that.”

“ hey, i see some smoke… come on, let’s take a look.”

“ we need to stay together.”

“ what are you doing?”

“ you were there… what really happened?”

“ it was crazy. raining bullets.”

“ that ain’t like him though.”

“ i’m surprised we escaped at all.”

“ damn snow’s coming in hard again.”

“ the horses are struggling.”

“ i don’t know about this, w-we can’t follow nothing.”

“ let’s push on a little bit.”

“ hey, look. over there, you see that?”

“ i don’t think we can go much further on the horses.”

“ we’ll have to walk from here.”

“ i’d grab that shotgun of yours. who knows what’s up ahead.”

“ you sure about this?”

“ over here! help!”

“ watch your step, this is real slippery.”

“ damn, it’s cold.”

“ i’m miserable. been a tough few days.”

“ here, take a drink of this.”

“ i’m not designed for this snow.”

“ __, where are you? __, can you hear me?”

“ that’s quite a scratch you got there.”

“ never thought i’d say this, but… it’s good to see you.”

“ you don’t look so good.”

“ i don’t feel too good, neither.”

“ don’t die just yet, cowboy.”

“ well, we can’t go back the way we came. let’s try this way.”

“ ain’t you a sorry sight?”

“ i’ll distract them while you get to the horses.”

“ go, i’ll draw ‘em off you.”

“ i don’t feel too good.”

“ you’ll be fine. it’s just like a… a dog bite.”

“ i knew a feller, got bit by a dog. died an hour later.”

“ you ain’t gonna die. not yet.”

“ thanks for coming for me.”

“ you know, we’re gonna need to come up with a better story for that scar.”

“ so, freezing, bleeding, starving, damn near getting eaten to death ain’t good enough for you?”

“ you’re alive! oh, you’re alive!”

“ this is a new low, even by your standards.”

“ you sound doubtful.”

“ i trust your judgment. always have.”

“ what about you. you doubting me, too?”

“ thank you, for your strength. it means a lot to me.”

“ when you fall, there’ll be a party.”

“ you fools punching each other, when __ needing punching, hard.”

“ folks been through a lot recently, we hardly back on our feet yet.”

“ i know you hate him.”

“ no, you’re just doubting me.”

“ i would never doubt you, __, you… you always said revenge is a luxury we can’t afford.”

“ this is about more than revenge for business long ago.”

“ and you think now is the right time to hit a train?”

“ now you might fancy living on deer piss and rabbit shit, i’m getting too __for that life.”

[exitstcgeright]

karaktcrs‌:

There are tears streaming down his face. He honestly can’t be happier right now! Law is alive! It worked! He escaped! Doffy didn’t kill him! Rosinante worked so hard to make sure that Law would be able to live! To have a future! And now here he is! Alive! Shit, his cheeks are hurting because his smile is so wide. But does he care? Nope. Not at all. Laughter escapes from the male’s lips as he pulls the shorter male into an embrace.

“Law! I’m so happy that you’re alive!”

::❮💀❯::

Always that smile, stretched too wide – like Strawhat – and it’s almost haunting. Painted lips split like they’re going to swallow him whole, if that wasn’t more familiar. Each and every fucked up dream could be recounted if he cared enough to try. But, he doesn’t get the chance to traipse along the rails of that thought before he’s gathered up in a pair of solid arms. Black feathers rubbing the back of his neck, a panicked gasp leaving him as his ear is pressed firmly to a warm chest.

Wait a minute... A warm chest? That meant bodyheat, and no ghost was capable of it. No corpse, no zombie. No, this was a living body, it couldn’t be anything else. A living body. ...With a heartbeat.

Law goes ramrod straight in those arms, mind working overtime to reconcile the facts with impossibility. Corazon was dead. Law had heard the gunshots, seen the blood soaking the snow in a macabre way. If it had been just a few shades lighter, he could’ve said it had been an accident. That Corazon had only slipped and dropped the syrup all over... Such play-pretend didn’t do much to comfort him as a child and it certainly didn’t help now.

“You...”

His tone is too tight to be a question, yet it’s so flat. Fear creeping into his mind temporarily if this was another trick. Yet, that voice and that smile, the warmth and the persistent damned heartbeat. Trafalgar Law is not the sort of person to waste tears, so when the bitter heat bites at his eyes and cheeks; he’s silent in a shuddering mess. Then a hiccup with a name on his tongue, shaking hands fisting into the feathered coat tightly.

“Cora-san...!”

Please, don’t be a dream. He begs, even if the reality is slowly sinking into his skin like needles. It’s so easy to make the mistake of letting his guard down, only to wake up alone and twisted in an odd position. To have yet another pathetic happiness stripped away from him, like peeling his life into pieces and throwing away anything that wasn’t some kind of punishment.

[exitstcgeright]

karaktcrs‌:

@exitstcgeright // @ law!

Omg. His son is alive…

::❮💀❯::

Surely, there has to be a limit to the world’s cruelty? To bring about an apparition of Corazon before him, should he begin to worry sleep deprivation has dwindled his mental health to the point of hallucinations? Yet he stands, mouth agape and utterly silent. As if his voice had been stolen, frozen, like a memory back in North Blue. Amid the cold and ice, when his tears had frozen on his face. Law’s eyes are dry now, wide and ringed with a lack of sleep.

The only noise he can muster is a choked exhale.

[exitstcgeright]

Marcus is so glad he didn’t forget to grab his noise cancelling headphones and put them on. Wearing them makes the fireworks a lot easier to handle. Some people have started early. Fun. Luckily, the headphones allow him to pay attention to something else. The count from 10 to 0 starts and he immediately grabs Klaus’ hand. 3. . . 2 . . . 1 . . . And it’s officially 2019. There’s a smile on his lips as he stands on the tips of his toes and gives Klaus a kiss. “Happy New Year, fluffy teddy bear.”

::❮♔❯::

For most, ringing in the new year was a fantastical event. Even more so in Hellsalem’s Lot, where things were never less than a work of fiction brought to life. Fireworks, however, were a staple. Going to the Square with Marcus hadn’t been in his usual plans, worry casting his gaze around them with a nagging anxiety in the back of his mind. His birthday was dwindling alongside the year, the countdown ominous in ways it shouldn’t be. But, he holds tight to the hand in his own and, like every year, hopes against anything happening.

Then, the ball drops and the fireworks go off all at once. The headache that follows is more relief than anything else. Marcus lets go of his hand, and Klaus turns to peer down at him only to see him rise onto his toes… A smile catches his face. He leans down, hands holding the other man’s waist as their lips meet sweetly.

“Happy New Year, Koalabär.”

He has to draw back his hands to sign it, just to be certain Marcus won’t need to take his headphones off amid all the screaming. Klaus’ smile can only widen a bit, reddening his cheeks.

‘Happy New Year, my darling.’

@zachtlcw