#7ndcvils

[myriadxofxmuses]

Tagged by: @savagecuhnt

Tagging: @7ndcvils , @renegadetulisrp , @lunarruled , @disposablelover , @mywilliingheart , @homelander-rp-blog , @lostxones , @ruinedsoulsrp , @swimmingsirenindierp , @the-thieves-gambit

NAME?: Mo Mo

PRONOUNS?: She/Her

MOST ACTIVE MUSES?:  They all come and go pretty equally.

EXPERIENCE/HOW MANY YEARS?: I think like 8 years now?

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?: Fluff and angst for sure. I'm selective on smut and do not rp smut just for smut's sake. It has to make sense, the chemistry between muses has to be right, and it helps if I'm comfortable with the mun.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?: I try my best to do shorter replies, but it always ends up being at least a few paragraphs.

PET PEEVES?: Plotting and then immediately ghosting after a starter is written or ask has been sent. Elitism. No one on here is better than anyone and I hate when the arrogance just seeps through someone's blog. Like get over yourself. No one on here is better than anyone else.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE?: Each of my muses have a piece of me in there bios. I take a lot of inspiration from bits of my real life when making characters and their backstories.

TIME TO WRITE?: I don't have set times that I can sit down and write. I work on things both on my laptop and phone as the opportunities present themselves and write until I feel like a reply is done and ready for my partner to continue the story. So, the best times are any time during my waking hours.

[atgvnpoint]

It took a lot of self-control for Sergio not to kick the spoiled brat out of the car again. But she was right, he was well paid by her father, so he had to remain professional. Without answering right away, he started his car and drove away from the police station. That way, he could concentrate on the road and the traffic, and his anger at her behavior wouldn't show too much. ❝Your father is definitely not paying me enough when my new job is babysitting you,❞ Sergio retorted with a calm and firm voice. ❝Can you try to stay out of trouble next time?❞

"I don't know." Had she known she was going to go down and a sting operation had been approved, all meetings would've halted and relocated. Someone on her team wasn't doing their job. And Ximena would quickly find out who. "Why don't you ask your buddies at the precinct? You seemed a little chummy with the detectives." Aiming her frustrations at the lawyer probably wasn't the right move. Ximena didn't appreciate getting yelled at. She never took it from her own unpredictable father, Sergio was no exception. "Is my father not paying you enough?" Arms folded across her chest, the woman sent a mocking glare his way.

[wholelottamuses]

@7ndcvils continued from this meme

Richard looked at her with a small frown. "This is Philly. We're in the midst of a generational run for the team. Everyone should know what 'go birds' means in this context" He said with a look that practically screamed 'are you serious' at her.

"It's not like I'm talking about bird flu here or the reason why eggs have jumped up an extra two dollars per carton. Seriously our eagles are a national treasure, and I will not have them slandered. Plus they aren't even responding back after that. It's like it gives them all the ick." Richard continued as he put the ick in air quotes with a roll of his eyes.

"Tinder is the worst I hate it here."

[crimsontrxcks]

@7ndcvils liked for a small Apocalypse starter

Muse: Jace Catto, 36 y/o for this verse, criminal ( for Belinda )

Plot: Two strangers who started traveling together through a series of events. They keep their distance but cannot completely escape the growing sense of attachment. After a skirmish with a group of bandits, Jace is wounded, but he does not want to admit it

" Bloody bastards. . . " The third curse in a row rolled down the tongue as irises the color of dark clouds before the storm stared at the crushed cigarettes soaked in mud and blood. " Fucking scumbags. . ." contempt was etched on the harsh features as he glared at the three lifeless corpses. The remnants of adrenaline made the muscles twitch, the foot delivered another blow to the ribs of the already dead man. A sharp pain forced a grunt out of the dry throat, torso convulsed, calloused palm pressed against the left side of the ribs. A sticky, moist sensation spread over the skin. Jace didn't have to check to know he was bleeding, but the wound didn't enrage him as much as the fact that these idiots had destroyed most of his cigarettes.

Unnatural gargling, growling and choking on their own fluids came from outside the abandoned building. The sun was dying below the horizon - which meant that the dead were becoming more active. Man with dirty blonde hair tried to take a step, but another jolt of physical agony from the injury froze him in place. Head felt dizzy, yet persistence prevailed, and Jace took another wobbly but determined step forward. " C'mon, we have to go. Those bloody brain eating fucks are starting their midnight gathering. . . "

[the-thieves-gambit]

but to add to my previous ooc post. You should totally follow these amazing angels who have helped me keep my sanity and keep me grounded in this time. @florxdexcerezos @7ndcvils and @rczepetalz amazing writers. the most banging headcanons. enablers of all my whims and just overall the best friends a girl could ever need or have.

[myriadxofxmuses]

He watched silently as she settled in, her slight apprehension to the thunder reminding him of Emily. She seemed to ease up enough to try and get comfortable, so he didn't react to her fear. Oscar headed to the closet to look for a blanket, finding one along with a few thicker sweaters he could use to pad his pallet on the floor next to the bed. He laid them all out and had just laid back when she asked about Emily.

A small smirk tugged at his lips as he thought of her. This was the longest they'd be apart and he hated it. He constantly worried she was alone out there, living in her worst nightmare and he was helpless to save her. But there were enough good memories to pull from his thoughts to, for the moment, quiet his worries.

"You would like her. She is the total opposite of me in a lot of ways," he started fondly, his smile ticking momentarily higher. "For one, she's an artist. Her creativity is off the charts. I can't even begin to imagine some of the things she's come up with. If the world was still normal I'd pull up her Instagram and show you some of her work. Not only is she an amazing artist on paper, but two, she is also amazing in the kitchen. Her food is some of the best I've ever tasted. I doubt she could say the same about mine," he told her honestly with a small chuckle tinged with sad nostalgia.

He sighed and rested his arm behind his head as he recalled when his parents first brought Emily home from the hospital. Oscar had been five at the time and vividly remembers how upset he was that it was a sister and not a brother - his parents opting to be surprised and declining to find out the baby's gender ahead of time. But as soon as he held her and she grabbed hold of his hand, he was hooked. He wanted to be the best big brother in the world and had done his best to do so ever since. His heart sank at his failures of protecting her after the outbreak.

"She is smart, capable, caring, and above all she sees the good in everything. Something we definitely differ on, but she always managed to show me the light at the end of the tunnel," he admitted further, quietly.

Oscar took his position on the couch, his bag dropping next to his feet. He pulled out his deck of cards - well, partial deck really. He needed the Jack of Spades, two of clubs, Queen of Hearts, five of diamonds, King of Clubs, and the eight of hearts to make it a full deck, but who was keeping track anymore - and shuffled them, dealing out an impossible hand of solitaire. He needed to quiet his thoughts into silence and the challenge of finally winning a game was an easy distraction.

The longer he couldn't find Emily, the more he had to recognize he may not ever. That he may never see his sister again. That he hadn't been able to protect her when that hoard separated them. And that she was....gone. But his heart couldn't handle the devastation of losing the last thing he loved in the world and he continued to deny the possibilities - finding Belinda more than enough proof for him that people could survive alone, justifying his denial.

He'd only manage three moves before Belinda showed up at his side, pulling his attention from the cards. Her nervous energy brought a small, half smirk of knowing to his lips as she avoided his gaze. Was Bell admitting defeat? He hadn't managed to drop the look on his face before she decided to finally look him in the eye and almost chuckled out of shock when she went on. She was. In a way. And he had to admit, to open up like that - to anyone, let alone someone who held a title barely above stranger - it took balls. And he kind of liked it.

His smirk fell to a purse of his lips as he nodded gently. "Okay," he agreed easily, hoping to ease her nerves. "I just hope I was wrong about the snoring," he joked to lighten the mood. "Rock, paper, scissors for the bed or are we sharing?" he joked further, as he gathered his gear and got up from the couch. "Relax. I'm just kidding," he told her before she could protest. "I used to share a room with my sister all the time (when she was scared), so it won't be the first time I've camped out on the floor," he told her truthfully, letting her in a little further himself. "Unless you want to press your luck?" he joked once more, holding up his hands ready to go as he headed upstairs for the bedroom.

[huntrcssqueen]

Plot ⇥ –You came? You called.

Starter for ⇥ @7ndcvils

Jason wasn't expecting to see Rachel actually show up. His eyes slowly narrowed toward the door when he saw the blonde entering into the bar. ❝ You came? ❞ He questioned as he looked at her.

[myriadxofxmuses]

What color is your love?

Tagged by: @savagecuhnt

Tagging: @swimmingsirenindierp , @the-thieves-gambit , @homelander-rp-blog , @ruinedsoulsrp , @huntrcssqueen , @lunarruled , @reevezs , @heartxshaped-bruises , @7ndcvils , @lostxones , @mywilliingheart , @interxstitial , @apurekindness

Ethan

deep staining red

Ripped out confessions, warm velvety whispers and a heart like an open wound. Your love flows out like dripping blood, beautiful, flawed and twisted. It's gut wrenching, the type of painfully dramatic feeling that makes you clutch your chest, picturing dramatic monologues about love and loving and big screen over the top scenes of sobbing into your pillow until you fall asleep. It rips out of you, clawing it's way up your throat more so than tumbling out. Sticky words that just need to be let out, feelings so big they don't fit inside you. Your love isn't easy, it's a true bloody mess, dripping and staining everything it touches in a desperate attempt to be seen, to be felt, to be loved back. And you, you love so hard, so deeply, so much for someone who carries all that pain. Atlas holding up the world, how are you? Is your love still flowing? Is your heart still open? Still pumping and bleeding and dripping with blood and tears? Still painting your beautiful pictures and writing your love letters in deeply personal red ink? Because I see them, I read them, I love them and you, you, you, you. Clench your chest, scream your love, cry it out. Spill your words of loving, keep your heart beating, keep your love coming and paint the entire world red with it. Make it in your image, keep going, it's okay. Maybe one day the whole world can be red and loved and beautiful just like you.

Daryl

dark stormy blue

Sinking ships, raging seas and tumultuous hearts, love isn't easy for you. It's a struggle, a constant inner fight of should I? Can I? Do I? Feelings are hard and they rumble inside you in a dissatisfied mess that begs to be let out. Your heart screams and cries inside you and you... You can't, you won't. You're scared. And love is scary, it's hard and sometimes it just doesn't work out. People leave, people hurt, people change their minds. And you and your cold stormy heart yearn for the calmness, for the distance, to be allowed and able to simply not feel. And yet, you do. It rages, it fights and storms inside you and you try to keep it down, keep it quiet, to feel pretending not to. It's the burn of childhood friends growing apart, of parents that aren't quite there, of relationships that burn out. So you snuff it down with water, cold and calming and blue, blue, blue. But being loved by you is blue too, just not in that way. It's the soothing, embracing feeling of floating, the moment when you sink down bellow the waves and become one with the water, with everything. It's the balance, the dramatic yet calming sound of waves that crash against a rocky shore. You're the good and the bad, the violence of the storm and the watery peace right after. You're the blue, blue feeling and loving you is watery tears, yelled confessions that no one will hear and burying your feelings in a deep watery grave never to be found out about. Your love is dark stormy blue, it's vast and deep and all encompassing, it's safety in the surface of danger, it's trusting the unruly abyss and yet I'd gladly risk drowning just to feel what it's like being loved by you.

Emily

bright sunny yellow

Sweet tasting popsicles, summer dresses and shielding your eyes from the sun. Your love is the excitement of something brewing, something growing. It's the almost childish bubbling giggles of something new, but with the potential to stay. It's wide smiles, blinding sunny light and warm bodies that gravitate to one another. It's the the softness, the willingness, the slight holding of breaths in a crucial "what if" moment. It's the impatience too. The bouncing on tiptoes to see further than your eyes can reach, the holding out for a future that never seems to come even though you're ready, you're so so so ready. It's the constant feeling of warm sand beneath your feet, holding out for the crashing waves. And still you wait, dry and impatient and with burnt soles of feet. Your love is sour candy, enjoying it as your nose scrunches up from the aftertaste of it. It's hands that grab and take hold, that reach and ask them to stay and hope and beg and wait. It's bubbling excitement sure, but it's also demanding, focused, driven. It's love like a plan, with a path and route and a clear destination. And you bonce on your tiptoes, and burning, waiting for the soothing water, the crashing waves, you hold onto the melting popsicle, you wait and wait and wait. It's tiring almost as much as it's lazer focused ambition, deeply rooted desire and the unrelenting hope that it will work, that it will come. And it does, I promise it does. The waves crash, the beach floods and the pain passes, the water cool and soothing and you can let yourself fall in, sinking, sinking. And it's good, it's perfect, what you were hoping and more, holding and embracing you and welcoming you into the stillness you always knew you were reaching for.

Sydney

soft fresh green

Nice breeze, bare feet and freshly cut grass. Your love is a lighthearted hope for the future. It's protecting your eyes from the sun but enjoying the light rays still, it's laying on the grass and feeling it tickle your neck. You look to the side and they look back at you, full of hope and plans too. You plan together and laugh all day and your sunburn will feel like them. Your love is delicate, hesitant. A well curated binder full of collages for a future you can't be sure will come, but you keep going, you keep planning, you keep squinting at the sun and smiling, and running your hands through the grass so it will smell better. You keep holding onto the bright sky even as the sunsets, even as the starry night stares back. But you keep on holding, you keep on dreaming, you close your eyes and feel the sun on your skin and convince yourself that the sunburn is good, it's something to hold on to, just makes it linger a bit longer. Your love is a lighthearted hope for the future. It's sweet and wonderful and it keeps love alive, makes the world a better place. You run your hands through the grass, clench your fingers tighter and keep making plans. And I can only thank you and hope I can learn to love like you someday.

[ruinedsoulsrp]

For @7ndcvils continued from here

Green hues looked him over and it was clear he looked, well, lost. It might have been more concerning to someone who was less compassionate than the brunette, but thankfully for him, kindness was her default setting and her smile rose slightly at his explanation as a small chuckle followed it. "I don't know if saying you're not a creep really helps sell it." she teased, her eyes glancing down to the dog by his side. She couldn't deny she was curious, but she kept the question to herself and instead turned to lead him toward the office.

"Let's go make sure you're on the approved pick up list. If not, they'll be able to give mom or dad a call to make sure you're all set. And they can page for your niece as well once you're all confirmed." she explained the process as they began walking inside. "What's your niece's name?"

[multxfacies]

Azra’s lips twitched into a smirk as she glanced at his oil-stained hands. “Mechanic,” she echoed, nodding in approval. “Figures. You’ve got that ‘I can fix things’ energy.” She tilted her head slightly, her eyes flickering with amusement. “Shame about Fords, though. My dad swears by them. I’ll be sure to break the news to him gently.”

At his question, her expression softened, but the smirk didn’t fully disappear. She swirled her drink, leaning back slightly. “You know, most people ask why I’d willingly trap myself in a room with twenty-five chaos gremlins every day like I lost a bet.” A small laugh slipped out, but there was something thoughtful in the way she ran a finger along the rim of her glass. “I guess… when I was a kid, I had a teacher who made me feel like I mattered.” Her gaze drifted for a beat before settling back on him. “She saw me when I was struggling, made sure I didn’t slip through the cracks. I figured if I could be that for even one kid, it’d be worth it.”

She exhaled, shaking her head as a grin reappeared. “Also, I get summers off and an excuse to buy an unreasonable amount of colorful pens. So, you know, perks.” She took a sip of her drink, eyes glinting as she looked at him over the rim. “What about you? Always wanted to be a mechanic, or did you just stumble into it after breaking down on the side of the road one too many times?”

She was funny. He liked that. No longer 'freshly' out of prison but enough time in between to remember the smell, Wyatt almost forgot how to fold a simply conversation. It constituted some give and take, some back and forth ... not just staring at the absolutely gorgeous and very real woman in front of him.

He cleared his throat. "On the mark." Wyatt lifted his hands, palms forward to show the black stains from changing an old beater's oil earlier in the day. "Mechanic," he clarified. "Some of the cars are too stubborn - that's where the patience comes in." And the customers when they don't get their car fast enough or are told the estimate is astronomically more than they assumed it would be. A tired hand fell back onto his lap. The other cupped the cold beer bottle. "And in case you're in the market, steer clear of Fords. They're a pain in the ass to fix and always breaking down.

"What made you want to work with kids?"

Where he came from, only thing anyone ever did was complain about kids. How they always wanted attention. How they could never be quiet. 'Shut up and sit down' was his mother's favorite phrase, as if a hungry four year old was a burden.

[the-thieves-gambit]

Mun Things

Tagged by : @7ndcvils @myriadxofxmuses @mywilliingheart (lygsm <3)

Tagging : the usual suspects (but don't feel like you have to do this) @never-surrender @clubsmarties @andrxsmarty @florxdexcerezos @rczepetalz @amused-bouche @inhumanhacker @muse-legion

NAME?: Vera, or just V. is fine

PRONOUNS?: She/Her/They/ Them

MOST ACTIVE MUSES?:  They all come and go, it also depends on my partner, if our plotting/hc is strong and there the muse is there alot

EXPERIENCE/HOW MANY YEARS?: way too long. I thing 20 about now.

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?: Angst first, then fluff. Smut, I am very selective with who I write with.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?: either. depends on the plot/muse/inspiration. There are days I can write a whole essay and others where short and sweet is all that's needed

PET PEEVES?: I have to use what JuJu said when she tagged me in this : "When there's no understanding regarding real life priorities. Roleplaying is a hobby for many - an outlet from real life, and a lot of times real life gets in the way of roleplay/writing. So when there's a push from a partner to do a reply, it's an immediate turn off since my own personal life is so chaotic that there will be long periods where I simply cannot do a reply but I will respond via discord or messenger." Also when I make myself available and give them multiple avenues to talk with me but never reach out or reply to thoughts/messages.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE?: All my muses have a tiny piece of me. They are not self inserts, but I take a tiny seed of me and build off of that.

TIME TO WRITE?: lol sorry Juju copying you again here : "Honestly, I don't have set times" and what Mo Mo said "I don't have set times that I can sit down and write. I work on things both on my laptop and phone as the opportunities present themselves and write until I feel like a reply is done and ready for my partner to continue the story. So, the best times are any time during my waking hours." Also, I work full time, have a family of my own, have the family I was born into to look after, a niece that has a lot of health issues and I help care give for her too. I try to use mobile but a lot of times but its lost things I've wrote and I've cried over that. So whenever I have the moment to sit and write at home, mostly the weekends or late nights, times when I'm not needed by someone in my life but I am always around to respond to DM's for plotting/hc and discord as well.

[huntrcssqueen]

Plot ⇥ working with lily to build her a new house while she is helping plan his sisters wedding. His sister is trying to hook them up.

Starter for ⇥ @7ndcvils

It had been months of working on Lily's house. Months of hard work and determination as he talked about the details with her after she got off the phone with his sister. ❝ Was that Amber? ❞ He questioned as he put the pencil down.

[myriadxofxmuses]

How do you need to be touched?

Tagged by: @mywilliingheart

Tagging: @ruinedsoulsrp , @7ndcvils , @the-thieves-gambit , @lunarruled , @savagecuhnt , @homelander-rp-blog , @swimmingsirenindierp and YOU

Ethan

gently.

you need to be held as though you're going to break. you need someone to trace your scars like cracks in a wall, crumbling. their touch is almost painful; you've been without it for too long, without someone to hold you. but, you cannot bring yourself to pull away.

Adam

fervently.

you crave a hug that cracks your ribs... the feeling of your wandering soul being crushed back into the bones that can't seem to hold it. you need a hand gripping yours so tightly you almost fear it may leave a bruise, a reminder that you are here. and that you are not alone.

[renegadetulis]

His relationship with Rosa was... complicated for the lack of a better description. Usually he'd never find himself in a situation like this - Carlos had prided himself as someone who'd never indulge something forbidden. Still, he knew Rosa's circumstances and even though technically, he was the third person, it had never felt that way. Being with her felt right. He sighed, finally cracking a soft smile. "Well mi amor, you know me too well sometimes." In the flurry of concerns, checks and balances - at times Carlos had forgotten he was operating on autopilot. And only Rosa would have noticed that he needed a breather.

"Will this be a romantic getaway or an adventurous escapade somewhere we're both not known to anyone?" he asked again, glancing at Rosa. He gave her hand a squeeze, chuckling lightly. "I mean we're going to start playing 20 questions here."

there was an unspoken truth known within the lower level cartel members when it came to rosa and her relationship: any time benny was away on 'business', rosa was out - free as a bird. what many didn't see, or refused to, was how benny had his own life outside of rosa as well. their marriage was more for the business side of things and to keep her best friend from harm. and that was why rosa felt absolutely no shame sitting next to carlos as they made their way up to the cabin. "dios mio. you really don't like surprises, huh?" the woman averted her gaze to look at him with a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "i took care of all that for you."

rosa laid a gentle hand on his, softly rubbing his skin with her thumb. "you need some refreshing time off and that's exactly what i'm giving you. now just drive and i'll guide you to where we're going."

[myriadxofxmuses]

Tagged by: @lostxones and @waveofstars

Tagging: @savagecuhnt , @renegadetulisrp , @ruinedsoulsrp , @emmaxmeyer , @lunarruled , @homelander-rp-blog , @disposablelover @the-thieves-gambit , @7ndcvils , @motherring

without naming them, post a gif from ten of your favourite films and then tag ten people to do the same.

[myriadxofxmuses]

GOTHIC LITERATURE ( bold what applies. italicize what sometimes applies. repost, don’t reblog. )

Tagged by: @savagecuhnt

Tagging: @reevezs , @ruinedsoulsrp , @7ndcvils , @the-thieves-gambit , @disposablelover , @lunarruled

Ethan

DRACULA.－ cold to the touch. flickering light. cold breath upon your neck. billowing white gowns. midnight strolls. pearl trimmed bands. the fall from grace. indulging in your deepest desires. the fear of outsiders. dark imaginations. bloodstained sheets. something lurking in the shadows. the urge to run away. glowing eyes in the darkness. the scent of garlic. preying on the weak. the power to both bring and take life.

THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GREY. ー old bookshelves. kisses on the hand. a drug-induced stupor. the pursuit of pleasure. devotion to the finer things in life. prizing youth and beauty above all. paying the ultimate price. blood red errors painted over in white snow. breaking the heart of the one you love. losing what’s left of your humanity.

FRANKENSTEIN. ー frantic sketches. the stench of something rotten. a scream from the woods. unorthodox beliefs. candles burning out. the crunch of leaves. dangerous knowledge. contemplating existence. the chill of winter in your bones. dark ambitions. prometheus reborn. the contrast between life and death.

THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO. ー false accusations. taking justice into your own hands. justice. elaborate schemes. playing upon others’ weaknesses. the solitude of the ocean. an ever-changing identity. an alienation from humanity. dissatisfaction in your life. escaping from prison.