hispreachings

[hispreachings]

just tryin’ to de-stress, my dudes

[hispreachings]

half of me is a hopeless romantic and the other half of me is, well, an asshole

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Momma, momma, let me tell you how I burn; how I revel in it, red-eyed and feral. How flames flicker across my teeth. Let me tell you how I set every goddamn fire myself– how it is hell and heaven, agony and ecstasy devouring themselves inside of me. How I scream the prayers you taught me until my throat rips itself into a bloody, shredded thing.

MOMMA, LET ME TELL YOU HOW I BECAME RELENTLESS.

Momma, let me tell you how I became the light.

[hispreachings]

  The moment he finished the procedure the wound would close up and no sign of a bullet wound would even be present on the body and if no one had cared enough to extract the bullet, the would would have healed over just as simply and the body would have absorbed the bullet eventually...or something.

Still, Gil took great pain in ensuring his patients were well taken care of, even if said patients were immortal.

“It’s funny how you make so many references to our campaign. I remember when we first found you you had a copy of the second edition of the DMG in your backpack. Of course, you also had that handgun on you, so that was a bit more important in the moment and everything.” Gil reminisced with a soft smile on his face, the memory sweet and still vivid in his mind. Just as vivid as the memory of the pain he had felt when Maggie had panicked and shot Gil in the arm. 

He spluttered when she spoke again, seemingly ignoring him. While he didn’t mind that all that much, what he did mind was the nonchalance in her voice. 

“Maggie! You took pictures of Officer Babineaux shooting you in the chest? That is-that is too morbid, even for us! Not to mention inappropriate-to some degree, I’m sure!”

     Maggie shrugged, careless of Gil’s careful grip on the medical tweezers currently digging around her cut open chest. “Being immortal gives you, like, a 40 in Constitution. And that’s just the modifier.” She wasn’t even looking at him, too busy scrolling through her Instagram. “Do you wanna see the pics I took?”

[hispreachings]

The damp sand turned into solid earth. The air turned from crisp and fresh into thick and muggy. The further Gil traveled into mainland, the more green he saw. Reminiscent of his schooling planet, the flora was bright and lush and beautiful, but the trees smiled like they have secrets to hide and the flowers giggled in the underbrush as Gil walked by. 

It was unsettling.

When Gil saw the sitting figure, he mistook the form for a fallen tree overgrown with moss. When it moved he jumped, startled. 

The creature looked like a forest spirit, a protector of trees and defender of nature. He struck Gil as a gentle green giant and Gil smiled in greeting as the supposed forest spirit began speaking. His friendly expression morphed into that of confusion quickly though.

“Maggie?...Enamored? I, uh, hardly think so, maybe, uh- why? Do you know her? Is she here? I didn’t think there was anyone else around here...” 

@hispreachings ❁ Let’s Go in the Garden …

He’s certainly not thrilled- or even enthusiastic- but Tuls watches the newcomer with anticipation. Not a demon, not a human, that much was obvious. But there was something vaguely familiar in the way he moved- no, in the air about him. Something more than the smell of brine, than the gentle optimism. It was almost saccharine. Bubbly. Like a certain Covetess he once knew…

That aside, Tuls had a hunch about who he might be. The blue’s, like a book he had just seen. The face, sculpted- charming, didn’t Maggie say?

     “ Are you … that boy Maggie’s … enamored with now? ”

[hispreachings]

@herlonging

“I am performing open heart surgery on you without anesthesia and you’re acting like you just stubbed your toe.” Gil paused both his thoughts and his hands and fixed Maggie with an incredulous stare. “...Should I be concerned?”

[hispreachings]

                                oceans rise, empires fall.

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describe your muse as shittily as possible in the tags.

[hispreachings]

"We could be beautiful."

yeah we’re damaged | accepting

  “Yeah...we could be...we are.” He speaks like a dream, like a fairy tale. Wishful thinking and new-found content, Gil thinks of just how dearly he cares for the two of them as a unit. How nice it is to see Heather smile. “...I think we’re beautiful.”

[hispreachings]

"You've got a bone to pick?"

yeah we’re damaged | accepting 

  “...” Eternal screaming. He has never known fear like this before. Why is she on fire, holy shit.

[hispreachings]

"You've got a bone to pick?"

yeah we’re damaged | accepting

  “--!” A small exclamation of surprise, he laughs sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck, “No, no, not at all!”

[hispreachings]

Heathers: The Musical Roleplay Starters

"We could be beautiful."

"Just not today."

"I pray for a better way."

"You've got a bone to pick?"

"You've come so far!"

"I'd normally bite your face off."

"I'm feeling nice."

"Seems every time I'm about to despair, there's a seven eleven right there..."

"Don't open a vein, just freeze your brain!"

"I could change my name and ride up to Seattle."

"I'm a dead girl walking."

"Sorry, but I really had to wake you."

"See, I've decided I must ride you till I break you."

"You're my last meal on death row."

"Shut your mouth, and lose them tightie-whities!"

"No sleep tonight for you, better chug that Mountain Dew."

"Yeah, we're damaged, really damaged, but that does not make us wise?"

"Your love's too good to lose."

"I wish your dad were good."

"I wish grown-ups understood."

"I wish we'd met before they convinced you life was war."

"No one here deserves to die."

[hispreachings]

callout post for decayheart

I really wish I didn’t have to do this, but with someone that’s been hounding me and my friends (Ilya — also known as cinderbinding / knifecoded / decayheart ) coming back to tumblr’s RP community, it seems like I have no choice.

He’s gone by multiple names—I don’t know all of them, because I don’t constantly keep tabs on him, but here are the ones I remember: Marlowe, Dakota, Sugar, Vanilla, Birdy, Shark, Peach, Delsin, Yellow, Hori, Azure, Northe, Ash, Will, Blue, and most currently Ilya. In addition, I apologize for any misgendering in the screencaps—this individual changes pronouns frequently and we’re not always keeping tabs on him, so a few of the caps taken were before he changed pronouns or at a time where we just didn’t know what pronouns he used.

Warning: this post will contain mentions of suicide, self harm, abuse, gaslighting, manipulation, and very mild NSFW.

Keep reading

[hispreachings]

psa;;

sermon. hey everybody!! now that i’m like back back, i’m going to be making a change. 

to start with, i am officially going by dave. close friends and those that knew me before this change are allowed to continue calling me ruby, but i ask that you now use it/its pronouns for me specifically, and you are to ask to use he/him. this is for all of my roleplay blogs.

<3

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eye emojis...

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kcmpfer:

bold what applies to your muse: flaws edition !

easily scared | whiny | repetitive | selfish | arrogant | easily excitable | too silly | stubborn | blank minded | overly cautious | loud | easily bored | untrustworthy | disloyal | manipulative | over sensitive | possessive | clingy | obnoxious | gullible | annoying | judgmental | tactless | merciless | unlucky | soft-hearted | sarcastic | reckless | paranoid | unsophisticated | pushy | self critical | smart-ass | solemn | erratic

[hispreachings]

Five times Kissed College AU /bangs fists on table

five times kissed | accepting

  I. Gil’s roommate had been intensely bothered by just how awkward and asocial Gil tended to be. No matter how he much he had tried, he just couldn’t get people to like him. Maybe it was his wild hair, cotton candy pink and blue. Maybe it was how sometimes he’d stare at people for just too long, or how he spoke too loud. Maybe it was how he would sometimes talk to himself- or, that’s what others had been led to believe. It’s not like anyone else could see his delusions. 

So there he was, junior year of college at a party brimming with girls in pretty clothes and boys in drunken stupors. He’s studying to become a doctor, but finds that his classes on botany are a lot easier- and more fun.

Gil’s friend ditched him about the same time they actually arrived, and Gil begrudgingly found that the kitchen was a safe haven, sipping from a red cup full of apple juice. He couldn’t drink, even if he was of age. He just- it didn’t feel right. 

Then walks in two giggly drunk girls, one in a dress almost as green as her hair and another with a scarf wrapped around her neck- in spring. Blond hair spilling over her shoulders like a molten waterfall captivates Gil.

The green girl, who he learns to call Maggie, zeroes in on him, dragging the other girl over to where he was, by the refrigerator, and she immediately tries to start chatting Gil up. He complies, finding her laugh nice and the other girl’s, Ava, eyes striking. 

He doesn’t remember how the topic was brought up, but now the girls are arguing about who is the better kisser. It doesn’t make sense and Gil is flustered as he tries to make his escape. Maggie grabs him roughly by the hair and drags him back to them. He yelps and she plants a big kiss right on his lips, leaving his lips tinted a sky blue.

Maggie and Ava erupt into laughter, and Gil finds that he can’t help but join them.

When they leave, Ava gives Gil a soft smile and a peck on the cheek.

The next morning, when Gil’s roommate asks if he had a good time, his cheeks tint and he says nothing, only nodding. 

II. “I’m sorry.” Gil finds himself trapped between a rock (Ava) and a hard place (a bookshelf) in the library. Her eyes are brighter than the last time he saw her and she’s holding War and Peace in her tiny hands, Gil eyes the scars that mark her shoulders but chooses not to say anything about it. He doesn’t need to ask what she’s sorry about.

“Don’t be. I had fun.” He says.

“That was your first kiss.” She says. It’s not a question. Somehow she could tell. Gil doesn’t question that either.

“Yeah,” He says. “You were my second.” It’s meant as a joke but Ava turns the color of a tomato. Gil thinks it’s cute. Gil thinks that this is probably the most brave she’s ever been in her entire life.

“I hope it was nice.” She teases.

“It was.” He says, not missing a beat. Ava squeaks.

“Have you had your third?” It was then when Gil realizes how tiny Ava is. For an eighteen year old, she was about the size of a seventh grader. It was almost jarring. 

Hidden between the bookshelves of the library, Gil bends over almost completely and gives her a soft kiss on the forehead. 

“When’s your lunch?” He asks.

“Now.” She answers.

“Walk with me.”

III. They’re sitting in Gil’s dorm room on the floor. He’s pouring over his text books and she’s playing Animal Crossing, legs crossed and tongue poking out of her mouth, determined and adorable as always. 

That is, when she’s not pissed as hell. Like yesterday, when people were throwing slurs at Gil. When Gil frets over her black eye, she laughs and says “You should see the other guy.”

In that moment, looking into eyes like a fire, Gil decides that this girl was a wild fire. He decides that he loves wild fires. He raises her chin gently, her sitting on his bathroom sink with an ice pack to her face, and kisses her, the blood from her busted lip smearing and staining Gil’s lips. He laughs and so does she. 

IV. They’re in Gil’s room again, Maggie asleep on his bed. The two girls had rushed over to him the moment he reached out to them, ready to help any way they could. 

It’s the dead of night and Gil’s hallucinations had finally subsided some time after midnight. An exhausted Maggie had fallen asleep some time before that. Finals week was murder. Gil’s head rests in Ava’s lap, her carding fingers through faded colorful hair, and her calming voice brings him back down to earth. 

He falls asleep and Ava bends down, kissing his temple with a small smile on her face. 

V. “You see them too,” Gil states.

“Y-Yeah,” Odin replies, tired.

“Join the club,” Maggie calls from Gil’s bed.

“We all do,” A tired Ava pipes up, head resting on Gil’s shoulder.

“Fuck ‘em.” Maggie says.

“Fuck ‘em,” A chorus of three fucked up children return.

“She’s mean.” 

“He’s a-awful.”

“She’s… controlling.”

“He’s creepy.”

“… We’re a-all fucked up i-in the heads.”

“No shit.”

“Sh-Shut up, Maggie.”

“Make m-me, stoner.” If looks could kill.

A sleep deprived Ava giggles, “Fight, fight, fight. Kiss, kiss, kiss.”

The group is silent for a moment, but a wave of happiness rushes over them, a sense of belonging, and they begin laughing. 

Through Ava’s bubbling laughter, she loosely grabs both sides of Gil’s face and pulls him into a kiss. Maggie whoops and Odin gags and returns to his game. Gil smiles and leans his back against the wall, sprawled out across the floor as Ava and Odin start trash talking each other. 

Hey, Super Smash Bros is intense, man.