Turning horizons into battlegrounds

Indie, Private, Selective, Multimuse. Mutuals only. Selective mains, highly selective exclusives. Written by Light, she / her, 30+. Pinned post template cred [X]

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HMMM. Anon, this is a good question.

Some of my favorite ships in RP land are the ones that I've spent a lot time building up. This will be a little long, so I'm sorry in advance!

@luck-crowned and I have had our Luna/Adolin ship for something like 4 years now. We've gone all the way from their first meeting, through them dating/courting, getting married, having children, until their deaths. We've discussed their personalities, their hardships, the things they love and the things they hate. How they handle difficult situations and how they are in the best situations. I love them so much, and Jay is easily one of my best friends and RP partners.

@an-mallaithe with Luna/Ardyn is something we've built up to over the course of, what, three years now, I think? Four? Through hiatuses and the good and bad times, Fox and I have stayed friends, and Luna and Ardyn have stayed together. It's taken a lot of plotting and figuring things out, but it's so wonderful. Also, their Ravus at @ravusnightblossom is my Luna's main Ravus and Luna's bestest brother <3

@soulcluster and I have, like, 100000 ships, and they all are amazing and hurt my very soul in the best ways. We have so many fandoms in common, and we've gotten each other into fandoms (she got me into mgs, I got her into resi, and now we're both stuck crying over our feelings), and we can't seem to stop building whole worlds for our muses to live in. We've got an mgs verse that's just all of our mgs muses and OCs and muses with verses piled into it, and we build our own lore around it (the Miller House of Healing (tm)) and expand it out in different way. It's incredible and I love it, and I love Lailah with pretty much my whole entire heart.

A couple of ships with @themechaneer, including their OCs brother, Kai, with my Lockne; their OC Joel with my Johnny and V. We have others in the works, but those are the two that we've built up over the last two years and have had a lot of work and tears and love put into them. Cas has also become one of my close friends, too!

My ship with @mercyxkilling and my Adachi. Hoo boy, shipping with villains is really fun and interesting, and this guy is not a good person, and he brings the worst out of Mercy, but in a way that's fitting for them. Mercy is such a wonderful OC, can lean in different ways depending on who she's around, and while our ship with Mercy and Jessie sees Mercy trying hard to become a better person, Adachi drags her towards her worst. It'll probably explode on them someday, but also, maybe not! It's exciting, and Cornai is such an incredible RP partner, and such a good friend <3

Before this gets too long, I also want to shout out @aglipa / @daupus because we have Johnny/V, John/Destiny, Joseph/Destiny, December/Destiny, and, can you believe it, they watched M.an From U.N.C.L.E. and gave me a Gaby to ship with my Napoleon. I just adore Dori so much, and I love all of our ships together <3

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I don't have too many ships between my own muses that I enjoy, but I will say specifically how much I ship Lockne/Sam and I write both of them, and John/December, which I know will never happen in RP (which is totally fine), but I love it in my own way. They both take a lot of work that I would love to build up more, but for now, they exist in my mind and I love that <3

I also love Johnny/V like burning, and I need to actually sit down with the only Johnny RPer I know and work on that more. Ugh, I love it so much.

As for ship dynamics....I'm not sure, really. I have a nice gamut of ships.

Adolin/Luna are true, pure, wonderful love that takes work and has to overcome hardships and cultural differences, but is grounded in a solid foundation and just a deep, deep love.

Joseph/anyone is a toxic ship I love to write (and would also love to have a Joseph to write with). He is a manipulator to even his own siblings (though I will fight anyone who says he doesn't love his siblings, it still doesn't stop him from manipulating them), and any sense of love he feels towards a romantic partner would be shattered if he learned they aren't loyal to him anymore, or if they question him too much.

Any of my F.ire E.mblem muses really find their stride in learning to trust each other in social and political spheres, as well as on the battle. That innate sort of trust that comes with working with people and trusting them with your life.

John/Deputy is enemies-to-lovers, albeit in a different way than most of that plotline goes through.

I know there's more ship dynamics, but offhand I can't think of any that I'm particularly striving for or wishlisting. I am always open to our muses interacting and it leading to a ship, and if someone wants to ship, they can definitely come chat about it. I do want the buildup, the chemistry, the understanding between muses, before the ship starts, and with the understanding that us talking about it doesn't mean a ship will happen if it doesn't click. But I am always down to talking about it.

her fingers fidget at her sides, the urge to reach out and touch many of the soft pieces of flower welling up inside of her. she refrains though, for not wanting to spoil their beauty with her dirty hands. instead she flexes them, fingers stretching out and then retracting, reaching down to fidget with an invisible string on the hem of her t-shirt. she’s listening to the conversation coming out of december’s lips, nodding along. both options seem heavenly, enough to brighten up the drab space that is their small home. it’s not the best of places they’ve lived - their house in jacksonville was small but much nicer, thanks to her father’s incoming paychecks. but when they moved to hope county they’d already sold it off and were living in a smaller place to begin wtih. she had no mind to be an interior decorator, despite her avid attempts to try and spruce the place up. there was nothing but blank walls and open spaces that consumed the entire room and she often found herself feeling trapped within the confines of the space ( despite the fact that there was literally nothing clogging up her interior. ) her bedroom was far different, but she had enough clutter in there without adding more. digging into the pocket of her jean shorts, she pulled out some money and reached across to place it into december’s hands. “i don’t know how much that’ll get me,” she said, thirty bucks and some change worth of flowers seemed enough. she didn’t know the going rate for flowers here in hope county, but she hoped that that was enough money to at least give her something. “maybe i could have a mix of ‘em both? the pansies and morning glories?” she asks, tilt of her head as she brings the edge of her nail between her teeth and gnaws down on it. a habit she picked up in her youth, it seemed to follow her straight into adulthood with no signs of ever relinquishing control.

｡✼★━━★✼｡  It’s easy to see how Aurora fidgets, and it’s no secret that the other woman has been caught in the throes of the Bliss. Maybe this is withdrawal, a sign that she wants to dive back into it but is staying sober off the intoxicating effects of it for the time being. December knows how difficult it is, has struggled with her own addiction every single day since rehab, and some days she doesn’t even know what keeps her going, what keeps her from finding something to get strung out on again if for no other reason than the familiarity of it.

She doesn’t even count the money before tucking it behind the counter and starting to put together a few bouquets. She may be giving more than the money would afford, but she doesn’t care. Whether or not Aurora also feels it, December feels a sort of understanding between them. Maybe the day will come when December can tell her about her own struggles. Maybe they can stay sober together. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

“Morning glories and pansies for sure,” she says, gathering together several of each kind and in varying colors. “Some baby’s breath always helps make a bouquet look nice. Hyacinth is beautiful, too, that’ll look great in your home.”

Eyes drift between the displays, looking for anything that would go well with these. So many options, but she doesn’t want to be careless with her selection. “Some dahlias and...blue primrose.” A beautiful selection that she takes back behind the register and starts getting ready to tie together.

@themultiversemerc : Your portrayal is, in no finer words...Godly. Every character feels like the person themselves is sitting at your device, typing through you. And to boot you're such a wonderful person to talk to and rant about shit with! I hope you get better ASAP, and have an amazing new year! 💛

Thank you so much T_T I know it’s nothing new that I get really down on myself regardless of if it’s a muse that I don’t get to write often, or one that I write a lot, but I’ve gotten to write a good range with you and I’m so glad to hear that you’re enjoying my portrayals - or that it seems like the character is here with me. So flattering and humbling, thank you ;-; <3

@aglipa :  everything you touch turns to gold, because you're a fantastic writer and I love getting your replies.

Gold, or me trying to ruin people’s feelings with angst and hurt of the highest order? It’s okay, I pad the pain with soft things, too! But thank you, my friend, I love writing with you so much, and that we’re friends outside of it all, too. You’re so wonderful, thank you for this ;;

@electricea :  I've always really admired your blog - I think you have a really diverse and interesting selection of muses and you've always been someone I think really highly of and hope to write with more! Hope all is well with you and that 2022 is off to an awesome start for you!

      Vaas’ intrigue only grows as Jiyeon makes her case.

      A civil war is brewing, huh? a little melodramatic, no? By his estimate, the Mox don’t pose much of a threat to anyone who isn’t looking to fuck with them. They aren’t known to spread violence through Night City the way a lot of other gangs are; sticking to their own territory, protecting their own people seems to be their chief concern. a baby gang made up of babydolls. And what does Los Piratas have against them that would make this proposed alliance more rewarding? Vaas can’t recall one violent incident between his people and the Mox, except – oh wait. yeah, yeah there was that one time he and some of his men tried to escape Lizzie’s bar with stolen drinks and the backroom safe. Now that was a fun brawl that ended with him icing his dick for a week.

      But why does Jiyeon seek help from Los Piratas, specifically? Has she already tried appealing to other gangs and his is just a last resort? Or does she hold his particular gang in high esteem? Vaas grins at the thought. Maybe she’s heard stories of their unrelenting nature. Yes, Los Piratas do enjoy a little bloodshed. The cyberpsycho leans back in his seat. He wants to hear Jiyeon affirm his arrogant thoughts.

      “what about the tyger claws? you know how that one saying goes – the enemy of my enemy is my amigo, no? i mean, shit, if anyone’s gonna want to help you push back against the mox it’s gonna be the japanese, no? what makes los piratas better than them, huh?”

｡✼★━━★✼｡ Jiyeon’s lips press together and eyes narrow slightly at his questions, the vitriol clinging to her tongue only held back by the clenching of her jaw. She isn’t here to make enemies, and she can handle some low blows, but this feels especially targeted, and she wonders if this is a test of some sort. One that she grows less and less interested in passing. This time, she doesn’t smooth her expression into anything besides the edge of anger that she feels, that she allows herself to show. 

“I may not be a part of Susie’s Mox, but I am still a Mox.” That, and if Susie saw Jiyeon teaming up with the Tyger Claws’, that really would push things further and faster than either of them might be expecting. Shoring up her defenses is also something of a bold move, all things considered, but growing up as heiress to a criminal empire has made her learn to be prepared for anything, and Jiyeon isn’t going to be caught unawares by a pissed off Susie Q.

A hand curls against her thigh, fingertips pressing into soft skin, pushing until that pain grounds her and there’s nothing left but the heat of shame warming her cheeks. She follows suit, except her laughter isn’t quiet, it’s an ugly sound between clenched teeth, tinged with the anger of what she had been denying. Something that had been easy when he ordered his followers to raise their guns at her, shoot her up with a bliss bullet, as well as make her fear for her life. Now though, they were technically alone, and there wasn’t anything to distract her from going into survival mode.

There is a moment of silence, mostly to compose herself, also to shake the sound of his laughter and soft voice from taking root inside the confines of her mind. It was uncharacteristic of him to speak in any other way, he was violence and rage, wrapped up in a pretty package, hands incapable of anything but ruining what they touch. Her tongue swiped over her bottom lip, a sigh escaping her before she had leaned forward, chest heaving for reasons unbeknownst to her, “Better hurry then, my dear.” Destiny spoke, voice lowering to almost a whisper. Another laugh, unable to mask the fury that poisoned her, because the more visions of them doing things she shouldn’t think about danced in her head, the more she craved for violence.

“Before the fire gets hungry and devours all within its path.” There it was, the very thing that they called her, the very thing that she had refused to accept. How could she be full of wrath when all she had been taught to do, was to love? Too bad she had felt it, the tension in her shoulders, the twitching of her fingers, the want of seeing John Seed in person, only to wrap her fingers around his throat until he begged her for mercy. To seem him on his knees, asking her to absolve him, it caused a small smile to spread onto her lips, “Do you think about me in your bed, John?” She paused, pushing the air out of her lungs, “Lust is a sin, you know.” Then she hummed, head tilting back to contemplate his question, “Mm, it pleases me greatly. Why else do you think I rest here?” Destiny didn’t wait for him to reply, “Because you and your family took everything from me, I had a home here, a life. Now I run for my life, praying you don’t get another shot at taking me. Because maybe next time, I won’t be so lucky to have your brother there to put you back on your leash.”

｡✼★━━★✼｡  He hears her fury, her rage, brimming in her voice as they taunt each other, as they hit each other where it hurts, because that’s what they’re good at. That’s where the emotion takes root and flares up within each other. In the pain they can inflict on each other. She doesn’t claim to be wrath, but oh how she encompasses it so profoundly, it’s almost poetic. Anger draws her tone taut as she breathes my dear into the radio, and he makes sure to click his own radio on as he laughs. Laughs at how she tries to tear him down, but he knows his pain, how it haunts him, how his own sin has taken root and he fights to pull its roots out of his very bones.

But he laughs.

“Do you think about me when you’re in my house? In my bed?” His voice is low, dark, twisting her words deep to break through the gaps she’s already started to show. “Do you imagine the things I could do to you, the things you want me to do to you? You talk about my lust when your own is so obvious.” Another laugh, as if the conversation were merely an interlude to the song of his laughter.

It stops soon, though, radio clicking off to leave her in silence for a while while his voice falls silent and he grits his teeth, pleased and disturbed all at once. She is so very close to shattering beneath his will, to giving in and casting aside her sin and her rebellion and her goddamn infuriating stubbornness when all she has to do is accept their offer. It’s so simply, but she refuses to see it. Refuses to acknowledge it. Many have been left dead because of her, and she doesn’t see the pain it causes those around her. He will make her see. Somehow, in some way, he will make her.

The mission wasn’t a difficult one, just simple recon for an upcoming operation that’ll span several days and nearly every Turk available; but while not difficult, Ahn still wants nothing more than to go home and rest. A hot shower, comfortable pajamas, soft bed, and bad TV until she falls asleep. It isn’t much, but it’s hers. 

Instead, Reno all but drags her to a bar on the way back to HQ, a little out of the way of most foot traffic but ‘the best drinks you could ask for’, according to him. She argues with herself on whether or not to just go back alone, turn in the report, and go home, but she doesn’t want to get Reno into trouble by telling Tseng that he went to a bar, and she doesn’t want to be reprimanded for leaving him behind. A sigh, almost inaudible, and she follows him, taking a seat at the counter beside him and eyeing what they have to drink.

A wide selection to be sure, some that she’s never heard of, a lot that looks imported. Something with a Wutaian label just barely hidden from sight, the bottle turned so it wouldn’t be easily seen, and it’s a stark reminder to Ahn that the war has left a sour taste in the mouths of the Midgar people. They won, for all intents and purposes, which seems to have spurred the hate sentiments as much as it has the gloating. Thank the water God for her being in such a position of power, people hold their tongues when she’s around.

She nods at a bottle with a label touting a Golden Saucer logo, a kind of vodka with gold flecks inside, and the bartender pours her a tumblr of the liquid mixed with blue curacao. Bitter, she knows, but she doesn’t mind.

          TOUCH  —  hers is a thing both foreign and familiar.  it is a comfort, yes, a small, fragile, desperate thing.  and yet, too, it is a dagger pointed straight to his heart.  once, such honesty toward his own emotions might have broken him, turned him inward on himself.  but, the boy, uncertain and afraid, is a thing of the past.  it is a man who takes her hand in the here and now.  he does not dread this, what her tears mean nor the mourning that will follow.  it is a thing well-earned, he believes.  and some still selfish part of him is grateful that she is here, sharing the burden with him.  never again will either of them have to walk alone.  there is a smile that leaves him as her hand moves to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes, glistening on her cheeks.  and it is genuine, truly.  as is her laughter in return…  and he is relieved, he admits.  the quiet between them as they find a spot to settle, relax, is comfortable.  and though, at times, it feels strangely surreal that she is here, the twinge of guilt is not enough to stop him from simply watching her.  “  thank you. ”  he answers, satisfied.  and he is in many ways. but, then…  do you— she begins.  and his focus steadies, his eyes narrow in unspoken understanding, despite how little has been said.  he will not belittle her by looking away from the tears brimming at the corners of her vision once again.  he holds her gaze firm, considering.  “ it…  it isn’t as if there isn’t enough to do.  there is.  i know you know it, too.  but… it’s strange…  almost… ”  empty, the word claws at his mind, though he does not say it.  it’s only then that his gaze lowers in thought, glancing away.  “ for so long, i didn’t know. ”  his role, the part he was meant to play, he thinks.  “ sometimes i wonder if i did, though…  if i was just ignoring it. ”  if he’d faced his fate sooner, would it have changed anything?  is that emptiness the place where all that had been lost, all that couldn’t be replaced, settles within?  “ i think, maybe, it was easier when i didn’t have a choice. ”  but, it’s a step, he thinks;  at least, he can acknowledge it.

｡✼★━━★✼｡  Sometimes, Luna thinks that Noctis is lucky to have been able to exist without the burden of destiny on his shoulders. In truth, though, being blindsided by the truth of it all seems just as unfair. Both of them hurt and angry in two different ways that converged on the same path in the end. There are times when she wishes their roles could have been swapped and she could have lived in ignorance until she was in her twenties; and yet at other times, despite how it cost her many years of her life and being riddled with guilt for so very long, she feels lucky that she did not learn about it all the way he did.

Two roads become one, and now they are here together, standing in a newly sown garden, a place of peace and serenity, and though she weeps for her overwhelming emotions, for his understanding of what she speaks of, she feels comfort being here.

She nods as he speaks. Perhaps she doesn’t understand completely how he must have felt at the time that he learned of everything, but she understands the weight of it all. How suffocating it is. She wonders if, were she in his situation, she might have done the same, ignored the sheer magnitude of the problem until there was no choice but to acknowledge it. Oh, how he must have felt so crushed by it all.

“I know how not having a choice in the matter can make it easier to handle. If there is no alternative, then there is no way to go but forward. Infuriating, but simpler than having options.” She manages a soft laugh and lifts her hands to keep his cradling her face. Her idealized version of him is not who he is, but she rather loves the man before her. Human and approachable. A wonderful warmth in her heart when they are close.

It is not the time, and a part of her recognizes that, yet still she finds the words and speaks them. “Noctis, I...I know our wedding was to be naught more than a political alliance, and for years I have understood that. Yet there is no one else that understands me the way you do, and I...” She almost stops herself entirely, lips pressed together, eyes lowered for long moments until she cements her resolve and looks him in the eyes. “Perhaps we could consider again getting married. Not for politics but for-” love. The word is a new sort of weight, but one she feels with a wonderful intensity.