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I am extremely slow on this blog, I do apologize. 

Galahad/Grayson right now is my main, so it’s double slow on Shay. I swear I’ll get to things soon. :)

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Donte Collins is a Black, Queer American poet  &  the author of  autopsy .  In this collection of poetry they explore what it means to deal with loss , racism , gender and sex identity , and oppression in a raw and powerful way.  Consider supporting them via buying  autopsy  from here or other sources .

‘ don’t tell your uber driver you’re going to an orgy ’ ‘ do not try to cancel the ride ’ ‘ you’ve produced enough sweat to fill the vehicle and drown you both ’ ‘ you’re just a boy grieving until he too is a thing to grieve ’ ‘ grief is not a garden of thorns blooming in your chest ’ ‘ you desire now , a way to die without losing your body ’ ‘ you want so badly to feel alive ’ ‘ you want so badly to be born again ’ ‘ the orphan mothers his own origin ’ ‘ they would have found a field of burning lavender had they cut her open ’ ‘ there are many ways to pull a weed but only one that will keep the garden clean ’ ‘ why does heat make the body confess what it will do otherwise ? ’ ‘ forgiveness is a fertile thing ’ ‘ how straight can you pretend to be ? ’ ‘ the thing about masks is someone always sees the string behind your head ’ ‘ do you still perform autopsies on conversations you’ve had lives ago ? ’ ‘ they’ll build the closet for you and spend the rest of their lives begging you to come out ’ ‘ how much time are you spending alone ? ’ ‘ everything was funnier when you weren’t supposed to smile ’ ‘ lately , when asked  ‘ how are you ’  , i respond with a name no longer living ’ ‘ i am alive by luck at this point ’ ‘ today i did not die and there is no god or law to thank ’ ‘ how do you pray ? ’ ‘ there are dead boys at the dinner table ’ ‘ my melanin remembers how sugar is a spice to an open wound ’ ‘ white guilt must make everything taste like a grave ’ ‘ i could , so easily , let my heart back inside this burning house ’ ‘ each night i dreamt of stealing back her body ’ ‘ i had wanted nothing more than to survive my childhood ’ ‘ what good is survival’s trophy if your assailant is dead ? ’ ‘ i am alive if alive means to be a moth caught in the hands of some childish grief ’ ‘ shake me to see if i am still breathing ’ ‘ the want to die is not always the want to not live ’ ‘ i am a boy defined by what i have lost ’ ‘ what is left to do but pluck the bones from my face ’ ‘ my life is only valuable compared to worse ’ ‘ i practice the release of my own ghost into the night ’ ‘ grief mothers your tuneless bones ’ ‘ orphan means you are everything’s child ’

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"You're not welcome." (( evie pls

         The Irishman had been in a rather jocular mood prior to the ice which bit him. The contrast amid his expression as it dwindled in merriment to a pained and baffled contraction.  Hazels went from bright and full of life, to literally quashed beneath the rejection ushered aloud. Words were caught in his throat, yet sculpted ; wore the query abroad his visage. He awkwardly adjusted himself with an uncertain smile, a jest of  an expression as he glimpsed behind him , perhaps in hope that it wasn’t him that she had addressed. Yet no one but him stood present.  

            When he returned his glance, hues softened momentarily with that uncertainty coiled around the approach. “  Pardon me,  I had not realized tis’ was a private establishment ? “  A half drawn chuckle, suppressed just beneath the vowels. He shifted his weight upon one leg, a sway in distribution. As he raised a hand to gesture for the bar.  “ Jus’ one drink, lass.  All I ask. “An aim to justify staying, tiers molded upon an inclining smirk.

@herstealth

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“This town wasn’t even on the map," he huffs, his hues looking down to the map. (given that discussion about which of your otp uses the map, this is so appropriate.)

                 Hazels at first didn’t register the Englishman, intently they had been washed over the sudden ill temperament of the sea and her squall that rearranged the mast closest to the ship’s bow.  The Morrigan’s crew had been quick to accommodate a formidable solution to her loose sheet.  Erratically, in it’s time spent unsecured, catching wild gust that was , if Shay wasn’t vigilant - would have sent them into the rocks nearest of the shore.  Grasping her wheel, with a hard left and spinning thrice over to readjust the offsetting rudder. The sporadic placement of clouds above them, darkened with an eerie cast foretelling a storm, by course of current was headed dead on them.

                        “ Ah - “ he at first inspired, “ Where is yer sense of adventure ? “ Half insinuated with a curious embark which hitched his very tone , it broke his earlier concentrated silence with the beginnings of enthusiasm.  “ Would ya rather us all be out ‘ere in tha’ storm thats approachin’ ? “ He jolted a nod skyward for the male, if not to gesture the problematic scenery and what could transpire out on the open waters far from land mass with a cloud like that.   “ I dun know ‘bout that in particular, sir.  Certainly a stop that so happens ta not be on tha’ map can be fer ‘ tha’ better good on tis one ? ” He more than pondered the reaction from the older male, given away under the hesitance as eyes finally met the darker haired templar beneath the skewed cast of his peripheral.

@mxsterkenway

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It is unfortunately taking a lil longer to get this blog up and running like it use to be.  I can only ask for those who are -  or were interested, to be patient with me.

Much love <3

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Assassin’s Creed Rogue

Amazing Fan art by Sunsetagain

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My muse is clearly having a very vivid dream, their body reacting to it in a very sexual manner, panting and writhing in reaction as they sleep. It seems that whatever or whoever they are dreaming of is doing a good job of turning them on. Send me your muse's response to walking in and finding them like that.

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PSA

I admit my mentality has not been the best lately. .  On top of that, I’ve been insanely busy with the haunt.  We open our doors to the mortals this coming Saturday the 15th, so my replies have been extremely slow.  If not at a bare minimum and I do apologize for that.

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"Don't point that gun at me." (( her sass

    Hesitation pressured the trigger inward by a hair only to falter in proceeding further.  Her demand had broken into his concentration , contributing a smirk that crackled across tiers, one that was presentable with the inner conflict he held onto when concerning security.  Hues dimmed with skepticism, and the aim lingered upon the individual , reluctance strained the appendage .  He could not help but question her motives of being within the vicinity ; was she friend or foe.

“ I cannae’ do that , Miss.  All sorts of strangers be wanderin’ these woods at night. “ He half canted his head to the side, an influential cope of humor as a chuckle slipped aloud. “ Ya would be surprised on tha’ type of folk wit’ a face like yers as a ruse ta obtain trust – who are ya and why wonder so far out from town ? “ The indication beyond his driven tone manifested an answer for her.  He would not lower his firearm until he acquired answers from her.

@scythereaping

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Small-Town Gothic Sentence Starters

Sentences that can work for a variety of situations, but inspired by the atmosphere of small town horror stories. 

“I haven’t seen your face around here. Who are you?” “You can’t go in there. No one is allowed in there.” “We don’t take kindly to trespassers.”  “If they catch you here, you’re dead.” “Nobody likes outsiders around here.” “There’s some things you just don’t ask questions about.” “Why is everyone giving me nasty stares?” “Whatever you do, don’t go wandering around after dark.” “Hi, where can I find the gas station? I need to get out of here.” “The people around here are really weird, aren’t they?” “You’re not welcome.” “Things were fine until people like you started showing up.” “This is the last stop for miles. You won’t find another motel.” “You can stay the night, but I suggest you leave before the sun comes up.” “I’ll show you where you’ll sleep. If you need anything, learn to live without it.” “So is everyone here in some kind of cult?” “I get an eerie feeling just walking around this place.”  “Sometimes when you see something you can’t explain, you just have to turn your head and ignore it.” “My neighbor got abducted by aliens once. That’s why he twitches.” “You probably shouldn’t drink the tap water.” “My car stalled out of town. Can I get a ride?” “I feel like some weird shit’s going on that no one talks about.” “Will someone please just explain what the hell is up with this place?” “God, I hate towns like these. It’s like being on another planet.” “You can drive to the next town, but it’s about two hours to get there.” “Why are there so many abandoned buildings?” “So why do you live here? You don’t seem like the other weirdos.” “This town’s got to have some good ghost stories, right?” “We haven’t had a visitor in a really long time.” “This town wasn’t even on the map.” “Do me a favor and be gone by morning.” “When you leave, please take me with you.”

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I was busy…

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         “ I jus’ thought ya could use tha’ rest -- was I wrong ? “  A chime in his tone, uprooted mirth with the wholehearted intention of insinuating something deeper. Adjoined  with the very core reason on why the older male had slept past schedule in the first place. The Irishman’s gaze lingered on the Templar, twinkling hazels with a proliferating grin, widely angled across his face. It did lure a sense of facetious satisfaction amid demeanor, if not carried further on the way he leered over the bed at the Englishman.  “  By tha’ way, ya mutter in yer’ sleep.  “ As if it were possible that grin could obtain more ground, almost wolfishly depicted -  fixated on a reaction of any kind.

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Welcome back mundays ?  I suppose.  Just to support the cause of this blog is once again active - though low in activity and well .. mostly under construction at the moment.  

Have an older con photo of a friend and I goofing off with my ex girlfriend’s bra at the time.  I regret nothing.  I was the one in all black. 

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I really hate the look of this blog when it comes to ..  ..  organization.   At the same time, I feel conflicted to change it.  . ..

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                                   but, he felt like warmth, and safety,

                                              like the light of the sun

                                   and everything i knew i don’t deserve