#purge rp

[grimmusings]

happy friday the 13th! this is a permanent starter call for my horror muses.

🎈 Ben Hanscom (It) 🚬 Billy Hargrove (Stranger Things) 🔥 Damien Thorn (Damien) 🏹 Daryl Dixon (The Walking Dead) 🏍️ David Powers (The Lost Boys) 🍷 Hannibal Lecter (Hannibal) ✔️ Jennifer Check (Jennifer's Body) ��� Jerry Dandridge (Fright Night) 🎃 Laurie Strode (Halloween) 🐺 Lawrence Talbot (The Wolf Man) 💀 Leo Barnes (The Purge) 🪓 Nicholas Hatcher (Alice) 🧟 Paul ‘Jesus’ Rovia (The Walking Dead) 🧪 Victor Frankenstein (Frankenstein) test muses: 🐒 Camille L'Espanaye (The Fall of the House of Usher) 👾 Dwayne Hicks (Aliens) 👽 Henry Devlin (Dreamcatcher) 🥩 Jedidiah Sawyer (Texas Chainsaw Massacre) 🧱 Madeline Usher (The Fall of the House of Usher) 🔪 Matthew Brown (Hannibal) ⛏️ Tom Hanniger (My Bloody Valentine) 🎲 Surprise me!

may dm for plots / may just be chaos. feel free to specify your muse, or i’ll try to leave it open-ended!

(comments only; i’ll assume a like is just you being supportive, and i’ll promptly forget a message.)

mutuals given priority.

[noheroessarge]

muse: Leo Barnes (The Purge) open to: 21+ only please / mutuals and non-mutuals / other canon horror muses, multifandom crossovers, OCs, whatever! triggers: canon-typical, including mentions of death/dead bodies, genocide, guns, violence, classism, racism, ableism, police, grief

21ST MARCH 2028

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EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM

WEAPONS OF CLASS 4 AND LOWER HAVE BEEN AUTHORIZED FOR USE DURING THE PURGE. ALL OTHER WEAPONS ARE RESTRICTED.

GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS OF RANKING 10 HAVE BEEN GRANTED IMMUNITY FROM THE PURGE AND SHALL NOT BE HARMED.

ANY AND ALL CRIME, INCLUDING MURDER, WILL BE LEGAL FOR 12 CONTINUOUS HOURS.

POLICE, FIRE, AND EMERGENCY MEDICAL SERVICES WILL BE UNAVAILABLE UNTIL 7AM WHEN THE PURGE CONCLUDES.

BLESSED BE OUR NEW FOUNDING FATHERS AND AMERICA, A NATION REBORN.

― ≛ ― ≛ ― ≛ ― ≛ ― ≛ ― ≛ ― ≛ ― ≛ ― ≛ ― ≛ ― ≛ ― ≛ ― ≛ ―

07:26:03 LEFT OF THE ANNUAL PURGE

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With one exception, Sarge had never cared for Purge night. It went against everything he'd sworn to do as a police officer. Protect and serve. It had been hard to argue with the results those first few years though because it seemed like it worked. Overall crime did go down in the country, and it stayed down. His job got easier. Then his world ended, and he believed in the Purge a lot. The Purge kept him going that whole first year. The Purge would get him the justice he'd never see in a courtroom. The Purge would set him free.

Yeah, grief could mess with a man's head like that. It wasn't until that night that he started to see it for what it was. Who was mostly likely to be a target. (Not him.) Who suffered the most on those nights. (Not him.) And who stood to benefit the most from things staying exactly as they were. (Not. Him.) It was unfairly stacked against people of color, people of low income, people who couldn't protect themselves. And, naturally, the New Founding Fathers liked it that way. Crime wasn't lower because people got to purge their darkest impulses once a year. It was lower because it cleared out all of society's "undesirables," and the government no longer had to pay to protect them. And when the Purge wasn't effective enough on its own, they sent their own people to help.

He would know.

He hadn't been able to stomach going back to the force after that night. He'd worked on the edges of private security for a couple years but hadn't yet decided if it was going to work out. Nobody needed a bodyguard more than on Purge night, and he wasn't quite willing to give this up. He'd been warned to stay out of it, warned not to play hero, but shit, it wasn't illegal. Nothing was tonight. The worst they could do was kill him, and that could happen just as easily if he was sitting at home as out here in the thick of it. (Maybe not just as easily. But he'd rather be a dead hero than a sitting duck.)

It wasn't that hard to tell the government Purgers from the regular population if you knew what you were looking for. They were better trained and better funded. Sure, you'd get the occasional rich asshole on a murder spree, with piles of fancy or custom weapons they had no fucking idea how to use, but more and more these days, the rich preferred to Purge in the privacy of their homes. Get someone old or sick or dying to come on Purge night, pay their family an enormous sum of money for their sacrifice, and never risk a damn thing. You could bet the government would be extra and trained. He fucking hated those semi-trucks with the automatic weapons in the back, take out a whole block at once like it was a goddamn genocide. (Wasn't it, in a way?)

He'd gotten lucky that first night. Few people had ever dared to fight back against that kind of weaponry. He'd caught them off guard. They were prepared now, but he was too. The explosion had knocked the semi on its side and left a crater in the street, and it was a chaos of gunfire and screaming. His team might not be well-funded or ex-military, but with a sniper rifle at that range, they didn't really have to be. There were plenty of people who hated the Purge even more than he did, and they were more than willing to hit back in any way they could. A little strategy, a little target practice, a little contracting, and you got this, a little street guerilla warfare.

When everyone with body armor, gas masks, and automatic weapons was on the ground, dead or dying, he stepped out from his cover but didn't holster his gun until it was clear he wasn't being shot at. Most of the people who had been hauled out of their tenement buildings to be slaughtered had already fled at the first opportunity, but a few had stayed behind, too shocked or injured to run. All of his team wore the same matte black mask, featureless and invisible in the shadows. It was an extra precaution; they'd already thrown out a signal jammer for the cameras. Everything might be legal on Purge night, but there were 364 other days in the year where "accidents" might happen to people who fought back.

He pushed it up to reveal his face as he knelt by a girl, maybe eight, frightened and bleeding. "Hey, it's alright. Can I have a look at that?" He nodded toward her arm, gently inspecting the three-inch gash in it, likely from being pushed to the ground. "It'll be okay. Hold it up like this to stop the bleeding. You got somewhere safe to go?" This he directed at the woman who had joined them. Mother, aunt, older sister? He had no idea. When she shook her head no, he produced a business card with a single address printed on it, no other information. "Memorize it. Head that way and take a left on 5th. There are weapons and medical supplies. You'll be safe there until morning." The card disappeared back into a pocket, and he nodded a goodbye as they started down the street. He needed to move too, before the next wave, before all the noise brought vultures of a different kind down on them.

It was instinct that had him pointing the gun before he even understood what the threat was or if there was one. He couldn't see clearly enough in the shadows of the alley to tell whether it was victim, threat, or something else entirely, but he hugged the building for cover and kept his aim steady.

"Come on out of there. Slowly."

[zoeysandin]

change is never easy. ( @politestrange )

SHE’S BEEN WITH HIM FOR NEARLY TWO YEARS — HER FIRST PURGE WITH HIM A SUCCESS / EXTENDED HER LIFESPAN FOR A LITTLE LONGER ( bartering never felt so integral than ever before ) / BUT THIS NEXT PURGE IS JUST AROUND THE CORNER & THE CLOCK IS TICKING.

HIS WORDS ARE COLD — like his eyes as they bore into her own , like the iron cuffs along her wrists as she hangs from chains bolted into the cold brick wall behind her. her bare flesh stings where the freezing grout grazes her coccyx. the rusted metal suffocates the circulation to her ankles & she still doesn’t actually know where she is. bruising & scarring litter her form & her arms ache. dried BLOOD drips from her bottom lip / cakes in a line along the curve of her chin.

— “CHANGE IS NEVER EASY.”

this christian before her ; jaw clenched & gaze devoid of compassion ; is the christian she remembers & knows well. the man that drove a machete through her father’s torso with ease. & despite her d i s s o c i a t i o n towards the truth of being in this DUNGEON & despite how he still manages to leave her trembling ; she doesn’t cry anymore , she doesn’t sob like the little girl she used to be — at least not in front of him. ( she only will once he’s gone. )

zoey quietly contemplates as she gazes into his beautiful piercing eyes while he winds the leather coil around his palm — that he simply likes to keep trying to break her in. to get her back to that place of PLEADING SUPPLICATION that he gets d r u n k off of & sometimes he still can whip it out of her — literally — her begging cries as she clings to the meager shreds of humanity he has left, her only SAVING GRACE.

the thick animal hide rope lashes against her supple flesh as she holds back the choked sound that T H R E A T E N S to escape / not once tearing her vengeful gaze from his as he punishes her for talking back. abdomen clenching as her chest heaves & her jawbone feels like it‘s about to CRACK from the pressure she’s putting on it to keep her composure.

she’s come to the conclusion that he sees the full breadth of her capacity now though ; that he’s realized that she would be his undoing / seen her ability to MURDER when her survival is at stake ( & even her capacity to murder him ) — he knows / chooses to ignore it — just like she chooses not to act on it. but maybe he hasn’t realized / she’s unsure. there’s still parts of him that are difficult to read — parts he keeps cloaked from her on purpose. too close & she could be a threat to his CONTROL.

& it’s unspoken ( unless he’s rubbing it into her face that even paternal , maternal , & fraternal mortality couldn’t stop her affections / gloats & basks in it even ) , but they both know her constant hesitation to end his life & escape is due to how IN LOVE SHE IS WITH HIM — despite it all. ( because of it all? )

his words continue to ring in her soul even as he leaves her shaking / naked ; S L A M M I N G the door to the cold , dank , wet , basement / dungeon / holding cell behind him. she hears the lock & she’s grateful that at least the words are honest , like he always is. if there’s one thing she’s learned since he killed her father ; & HIS MEN murdered her mother & brother before her ( after he promised they’d go free ) / it’s that brutal honesty is a constant from him. a constant she can rely on. someone to rely on.

( where else was she supposed to go? would he even let her leave. )

her first.

her . . . only.

CHANGE IS NEVER EASY. the tears begin to roll freely now & she has to hold her breath , bite down on her bottom lip hard — breaking the scarred over wound on her lip & causing fresh blood to seep ; the metallic tinge of it staining her tongue — as the grime & sweat pour down her body . . . so he won’t hear her quaking sobs. she won’t give him the gratification she knows he craves. at least , not today.

@politestrange | inbox fun. | send away!

[shefatalesarch]

👺 LEO BARNES STARTER CALL !!

FANDOM: The Purge Series CROSSOVERS: very welcome PRE ESTABLISHED CONNECTIONS: unlikely MOST WANTED CONNECTIONS: ocs, any purge characters *starters vary in length / if you’re a multi specify who for!  

[fearlessmuses]

𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵…

[ #𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐘𝐒 ] --- ⁱ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʳᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ

carter blake ( fc: thomas jane ) from deep blue sea

curt vaughan ( fc: chris hemsworth ) from cabin in the woods

david dutton ( fc: timothy olyphant ) from the crazies

ellison oswalt ( fc: ethan hawke ) from sinister

josh lambert ( fc: patrick wilson ) from insidious

leo barnes ( fc: frank grillo ) from the purge series

michael corvin ( fc: scott speedman ) from underworld series

vlad tepes ( fc: luke evans ) from dracula untold

please specify muse / or who for who

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

apocalypse au. cannibalism. corpses. Offscreen loss of loved ones

-

“Some leather armour,” Bad notes, tugging curiously at the straps of the corpse’s armour. “Euagh, almost broken, though.” The armour gets tossed to the side. “A granola bar? Okay, we’ll take that.”

Cellbit twitches at that. He wants to ask, “Do we have to?” but there’s several reasons why he doesn’t. Protesting a backup food supply is never a good idea, for one. It’s not worth it to risk starvation just because he’s worried that the backup food supply will become their primary. He tightens his hold on the bloody sword and insists again. It’s not worth it. Instead, he says, voice rasping, “There’s too many. It’s all going to rot.”

“You think so?” Bad looks up at him, then runs a critical eye over the little encampment. Ten bodies, some larger, but all fat deposits slimmed by lasting hunger. Bad licks at the blood left on his hand from looting the corpse, considering their haul thoughtfully. “I don’t think things rot that fast, Cellbit.”

He twitches again when Bad says his name. It wasn’t an admonishment- it was barely even an opinion Cellbit should validate, knowing how long it takes Bad to consider something rotten -but there is something yearning and grieving and desperate slinking between the muscle fibers of his heart that squirms to hear that disagreement. He’s shaking. He hasn’t stopped shaking. He wants to bite the edge of his sword hard enough that his teeth will crack into sharpened splinters. He wouldn’t need the sword, then. “I don’t- we should cook it,” he says. “Some.”

Bad snaps his fingers triumphantly, as though he’d remembered something. “Pre-digestion!” he exclaims so loudly that Cellbit flinches. No birds fly away- they’ve already been scared off. “Oh! You want to save some for later? Yeah, sure, we can do that. But we should eat what doesn’t fit in the car.” Cellbit doesn’t know how to explain that he can’t eat as much as much as Bad. Not even cooked. It fills him with- it’s not envy but it isn’t not envy, either. Some dissatisfaction.

Back in the— when he was small Cellbit had always assumed that it was Bad’s size that lead him to take the larger portion of their meals. It made sense, and he always got his fill so he was happy with it. Then, when he was grown, it was frustrating. Bad could eat an entire corpse in one sitting; Cell couldn’t even get through an entire leg. He’d realized then, gnawing at bone and just waiting to be done, that Bad couldn’t have possibly eaten an entire corpse. It was childish dreams made memory, morphed by the horror and the trauma and the things he didn’t think about. And now they’ve met up again, and these are their first corpses but Cellbit knows that despite their looting Bad’s share of the resources are always depleted, even when they come across a feast and- The clever part of him is wondering how much he’s really misremembered after all.

Bad seems oblivious to Cellbit’s thoughts. “We can smoke some of this and it’ll last you a bit longer,” he suggests thoughtfully, starting to dig through the corpse’s clothes again. “It might take us some extra time, but this place is safe enough that they set up camp, and we don’t know when we’ll get the chance again. Good idea. Do you want to carve the meat or set up the smoker?”

The thing in Cellbit’s heart writhes almost giddily at the praise. He thinks that he hates it. He misses when he could fool himself into thinking he deserved it. “The meat,” rasps its way out of his throat, proving him right.

Bad lights up. Cellbit can immediately tell that he’s up to something. “In that case- I have something for you that might make it… a little bit easier.”

“What is it?”

“Close your eyes!” The bleeding part of him wails at the thought of the vulnerability, but this is Bad. He’s only alive because of him. Fitting to die because of him, too. Cellbit closes his eyes and continues to shake. The back of his teeth are dry. There’s the sound of rustling as Bad does whatever, and then a triumphant, “Ta-da~!” Cellbit gratefully takes this as his cue to open his eyes again.

Badboyhalo is holding a knife.

Badboyhalo is holding a kitchen knife. Thumb and fingers pinching either side of the blade, handle out, an offering. It’s clean, except where Bad’s hands have stained it red.

Cellbit had been calm, before, the way you are when you’re doing what you were made for. Then he had been satisfied, and excited, and then jittery and bad and happy and satisfied and dreadful. Longing and hatred and benediction and fulfillment. The sight of the knife fades all of that out. When he grabs it, those feelings turn to static. Still there, still hunting him, but forced to back away in the face of its armed prey. The world smooths out a little and hurts a bit less.

Badboyhalo has given him a knife.

“Bad-“ he says, and doesn’t choke up about it.

Bad smiles at him. Bad beams at him. “I was waiting for a good time to give it to you. I know you’ve got your sword, but I remember you telling me that knives are your favourite. Is that still true?”

Overwhelmed, Cellbit nods a little. “Thank- thank you. Obrigado, Bad.”

“De nada!” Bad chirps, cheerful as anything. He pats Cellbit on the shoulder, gently, as his tone shifts. “The sky is still blue, Cellbit. Remember that.”

He wanders away before Cellbit can bring himself to mutter, “Mas às vezes está nublado.” But it’s just Cellbit now, and his knife, and the bodies, and no one living can hear him.

He’s already dropped the sword, he realizes abruptly, clinging to his knife with both hands. He needs to pick it up and clean it before the blood coagulates. There is meat in front of him, still warm and waiting to be processed. Still, he manages to pick up the sword and wipe it in the vicinity of cleanliness on the body’s clothes, his other hand still clinging to his knife. He cuts the clothes, and drops the sword to the side.

When the knife cuts flesh, he starts to grin again. The world turns into a loving red, and he gets to work.

-

Bad feels bad.

He doesn’t dwell on it. Guilt or grief- they both started with g. It’s probably even better, even, feeling guiltier than griefier! Take away the question of accountability entirely, hold control, do what he has to do. And he has to do this.

The log in Bad’s hands cracks. He giggles at it, then takes several quick breaths as tears rapidly pool in his eyes. He doesn’t wipe them, just carefully lays the log down into his makeshift fireplace.

Bad doesn’t like hurting his friends. It’s like a bad prank that leaves lasting damage; it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. But it’s not really all that bad, all things considered. Bad isn’t hurting him or putting him in more danger. If anything, Cellbit is safer with him. They’ve done this before- anything Cellbit can’t eat, Bad can, and they know Cellbit can eat Bad. It’s better. It’s what needs to be done.

There’s a loud lowing in the distance. Bad stills as he listens to it. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Cellbit still carving. They found someone else tonight. Bad feels some tension leak from between his shoulderblades. They’ll be fed and full, and slow in the morning. Cellbit and Bad will have more than enough time to get packed up after a rest.

Cellbit has someone left. Bad is giving him a gift, but he can’t give it yet. Bad knew exactly what he would do if it turned out his own loved ones were still around, and he knows what Cellbit would do, too.

If Cellbit knew that Roier was still alive, he’d leave.

[cheese-water]

Leo and Sunny together gives me tons of feelings because at surface level, it’s just two very similar girls fighting over very childish things like who copied who and who likes Pepito more. But looking deeper made me realize just how similar they are.

It’s a funny coincidence that both Sunny and Leo have pivotal character moments when they interact. One right before and one right after.

Sunny’s is the mermaid family meeting with Tubbo before she was told about Leo’s prank, and it’s hard to watch. This little girl so desperately wants to be loved by others. She so desperately wants her other parents to meet her and take care of her that she’ll take any semblance of them and love it to moon and back. It’s too bad the remaining shards she has are horror stories and a body by the dock.

Leo’s happens right after saying “hola” and a few other words to Sunny and running away up the hill. When Foolish catches up to her, she’s already sitting in a chair and partway through watching a video. The video was an ai Foolish cover of Gary come home in spanish but replaced Gary with Vegetta (Vegetta vuelve a mí). Leo continues watching and it becomes apparent just how much she is affected by her other father’s disappearance. The depressing scene only darken when discovering that the ai cover was made a month before she disappeared. Two and a half months is a dangerously long time to hold out hope. Especially when it can all come crashing down on you in an instant.

Leo and Sunny are deeply lonely and crave the love and attention from their other parents that their single dads just can’t provide. They’re just a couple of girls god damnit let them live :(

[ectobabble]

(old art) I finally bought clip studio paint ex so i can do animatics and concept art! i pictured retrograde's world so be highly visual bc anything you DO see in the void has to be engaging and tell the story by itself. Idk if i'll ever have the courage to make it so I think it's okay to... post... whatever lol

It should feel like you got lost in liminal space with broken music playing - blindly walking around knowing that a creature could be inches from you and you wouldn't see it. The only thing keeping you sane is a memory, and you don't even know if it's yours. You don't know who you are or why you're dying, just that your 'soul' is in a lightbulb and it's fraying.

SO... anyway, I originally pictured Proxy in this kind of room:

But I'm realizing that I'm not showing any of her personality or clues as to what the room is so I'm building her house rn. She's a proxy. She should have things, or childish drawings of things, that belong to people in the void. Below is her 'revised house' that you can't see right now lol i'll post it after I finish designing another draft.

Left is from another abandoned story years ago, but the concept of black outlining the environment is what I want. Right is old concept art from that insp. If I can make shapes and pathways that glow. Cocoons of safety.

[citrinitxs]

busy perceiving... @ kaeya blogs....

[yallemagne]

Bruh I just want fanart why do I gotta be in a fandom where there are like fifty million ask blogs? And none of them make original art for the asks they just recycle game sprites. That’s some weak ass shit, John.

[untoterxhund]

either gonna remake again in the future and hand out the url privately or gonna clean out the followers list again me'thinks. so if you wanna stay mutuals and plan on writing w/ me in the future when I can actually dedicate time to doing so w/out any stressors or anxiety spikes then please, slap that heart real quick for me.

if not, it was a pleasure to write and talk for a bit and wish y'all good luck on your future endeavors 'n stuff.

[consult-sherlockholmes]

How are you feeling right now? I want to know. And don't just tell me "I'm fine" or "Not great" I want to know what exactly you feel right now. And if you don't know, that's alright. I'm just curious. 🌱

Like deleting this whole website. And no I don't mean my blog I literally mean deleting all of Tumblr.com

[zoeysandin]

“this heart beats for only you” ( @politestrange )

he knows how to make her shake & yield to him. more than any other person ever has & ever will ( if he has anything to say about it ). & unfortunately it’s completely against her will. it torments her how malleable he renders her, despite how evil he is. how she trembles, beside herself, under him with the way his hand snakes upwards to slot itself around her elongated throat as he holds her in place, thumb digging into her vocal chords.

how he forces her against her best efforts to melt under him & cling to him desperately as he breathes against her ear & tugs on her earlobe with his SHARP TEETH. condensation from his breath sticking to her cheek as his palm slides from her neck over the breast he’s claimed as his long ago — & back up to capture her throat once more.

wantonly, she just hangs onto him, his cock filling her, owning her, in the most intoxicating way. splits her soft pleading cunt for him incessantly, completely soaked for him as she always is ( even the first time when he took stole her virginity ) / her legs draped over his shoulders & her head is thrown back as her inner thighs shake with how deep he’s going. the curve of her back inclining down, BEGGING to take him in further — to the hilt & more ( if she could ).

she wants to consume him. ERASE him. stop him.

but he won’t let her.

the way he’s soft & gentle ( he presses his abrasive lips to her thrumming pulse point ), but rough & demanding with the way he rolls them over now — her on top ; secures her firmly to his body with one lean but toned arm around the small of her back while the other grips her features in place.

she’s gasping at how he makes her body ache for him, bottom lip trembling as her hips buck down & her back arches. his own hips expertly move to drive his cock in deeper within her desperate hole, looking down the best she can to watch him disappear within her repeatedly. but he slaps her across the mouth — HARD — then clasps her throat again as she whimpers, finding his eyes once more. pay attention, she can hear it without him saying a word. she’s not supposed to look at anything other than his eyes. she repents for her sin silently.

the way he looks at her right now tears her soul in two. how the sternness in his eyes makes her want to ride him right, just the way he likes it. swerving her hips to serve him in the way he’s trained her to — but with a violence & vengeance that only ANGERS him more ; makes him whack her ass & tighten his grip on her throat to tug her down to lock their gaze closer.

her brows furrow apologetically as his intent gaze holds her own & the heat rushes with that red hot hue to her cheeks ( she wishes she could stop whimpering ) — her hips moving less mean since he’s reprimanded her for it nonverbally. doe-like now / she can’t handle it when his beautiful endless eyes shift lightly now as if in approval ( good girl ) & penetrate her soul like that. those wicked, possessive, yet always shockingly reverent eyes that grip her soul & tether her to him & him to her. his thumb traces her parted bottom lip & her lashes flutter to a close as she leans into his hold.

he’s quiet as she noses against his palm. she supposes her tenderness engenders him to speak.

“this heart beats only for you.”

her eyes flash back open with the shock of the sincerity & it stings because she can feel how TRUE it is. he says it so SOLEMNLY, in a barely there whisper that for a moment she struggles to believe its true. he’s glaring at her as she does, as if to challenge him or mock him for saying it. she’s on thin ice & she knows it. its a moment of severe vulnerability he’s never given her before.

“christian—” comes her soft hymn of disbelief. his blonde locks frame his angel set features.

he’s never said something so.. earnest. he just stares at her insistently, his hand starting to tense around her face, ready to punish her, almost out of habit but then—

“i love you—” escapes her lips before she can stop herself & he sits up immediately, clasping the back of her neck as he slows the rocking & upwards thrusts of her hips ( making her gasp ). deliberate in the way he guides her to take his cock inside her more agonizingly tempered. straddling him now in his lap, the tangle of the silk sheets around them as she mews weakly at the change of angle.

“say it again,” he’ll breathe the demand quietly ( maybe even innocently / brokenly? as if he doesn’t believe her? ) & she’ll relent — over & over again into his mouth. & he’ll pull her flush to him, chest to chest as the tides roll over.

because she does / heavens knows she does / & she’ll never even try to escape. as her arm hooks & wraps around his neck, her other hand gripping hard onto his platinum luscious hair. he buries his face in the solace of her neck. you’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.

through the bedroom window, blue baptisias line the front lawn.

i’m yours. i’m yours. i’m yours.

( @politestrange / @daevilhorns )

[roleplayfinder]

Fandom Roleplays CC x Oc Doubles Welcomed

I’m 18+ and all Participants must be 18+

Heya looking for someone who can rp as a male canon character or oc for the following fandoms. I ask this be romance and I also ask that you rp in third person, are semi literate, fairly active, and don’t ghost me please. If you are busy let me know

I am semi literate and I run on San Antonio time so ask we kinda be in the same time frame. Its 9 pm rn. Anyways below are the fandoms and who I want paired with my oc. Doubles are welcomed

Movies

The Purge (CC Leo Barnes x Oc)

Maze Runner (Minho, Newt)

Divergent (Eric x OC)

Transformers (Bumblebee x OC)

Marvel’s Eternals (Ikaris x OC)

Hunger Games ( Peeta or Finick x OC)

The Darkest Minds (Liam x Oc )

Now You See Me (Daniel Atlas x OC)

Tv Series

Rise of The TMNT or TMNT 2012 (Leo CC x Oc)

Titans or Titans 2003 (Jason Todd or Dick Grayson CC x OC preferably Jason)

Helluva Boss (Alastor, Blitzø)

9-1-1 (Eddie x OC)

Law and Order SVU (Mike Duarte, Raphael Barba x OC)

The Mandalorian (Boba, Mando, x Oc )

Game of Thrones (warning I’ve only seen up to season 2 episode 6 but I’m familiar with it. I want Robb Stark x Oc)

The Flash( Mark x OC or Hartley Rathaway x OC)

Percy Jackson (Leo Valdez x Oc)

Or even Celebrity x Oc rps. I ask if you can play

Richard Madden or

Pedro Pascal

Or even scenarios like best friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, soulmates

There might be more Fandoms just ask me and I might know it however these are the ones I’m most interested in rn. Hope to hear from you soon. Also please dm me what fandom you want and your time also your favorite color. Thank you

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[nightworldkrp]

Dwellers of Night World,

Halloween will soon be upon us! Although it’s not the same as it used to be when the supernatural could walk upon the humans without them noticing due to all the dressing up they did, it doesn't mean the supernatural don’t still enjoy this time of year. Whether things are going to go bump in the night, you’re going on a candy hunt or just heading to the hottest party for the year you know that the secret society has something special in store for you.

Purge Night

By now everyone has heard of or seen the movie purge, well the Secret Society took inspiration from the movie. Always ones to enjoy chaos and one to keep the universe on its head, the Secret Society has deemed that all hallows eve (Halloween for most folks) will see rule changes. Masters think they have all the power, so for this day only that power is being stripped away, where is that power going you might ask? Well look no further because the slaves that you once controlled now hold all the power, how much they make your life hell is well down to them. Whether you have a Master or not, enjoy your power to have them do your bidding because this privilege only lasts for 24 hours before Masters regain their position at the top of the social class. With no repercussions and the decisions in your hands what will you do?

—18+ —Supernatural AU —Master x Pet Societal Hierarchy —Lit/Semi-lit & Plot Driven — Dark Themes Allowed —Choose your Race & Status —Monthly Events! —MeWe Based

The Story—Rules—Masterlist—Races—Carrd

[ensuists]

hello im still on hiatus. life has kicked my ass to the curb but ill be finished school april 20th so expect me lots then!! i miss being here lots