#EVO1UTIONARY ⸺ a multi-muse rp-blog for several character from the series ARCANE. written by NIKAN / NILL. established 2025. highly selective. independent. private.
LINKS : carrd ; memes
sheepfilms
occasionally subtle

roma★

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Misplaced Lens Cap
YOU ARE THE REASON
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

#extradirty
KIROKAZE
Cosimo Galluzzi
Acquired Stardust

Love Begins

Andulka
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
dirt enthusiast

Product Placement
Game of Thrones Daily

titsay
hello vonnie

seen from Russia
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seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Argentina

seen from United States
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seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from United States
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seen from Canada

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@evo1utionary
#EVO1UTIONARY ⸺ a multi-muse rp-blog for several character from the series ARCANE. written by NIKAN / NILL. established 2025. highly selective. independent. private.
LINKS : carrd ; memes
i'm still alive.... just renovating since march and i've moved in a while ago but it's far from finished so a lot of my time goes into that. living in what essentially boils down to a construction area a lot of the times is kind of draining lmao. fingers crossed that it only takes four or six more weeks.
but it's ok i'm listening to takedown and your idol from kpdh on repeat
𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 & 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 (a series of nonverbal prompts . mature themes present , ‘ my ’ muse belongs to the one who posted the meme - send “ + REVERSE ” to reverse the prompts .)
→ 𝐈 . GENERAL
❛ hush . raise a finger in a gesture to silence my muse . ❛ sit . gesture for my muse to sit down . ❛ door . hold a door open for my muse . ❛ tap . tap my muse on the shoulder to garner their attention . ❛ hunger . give my muse something to eat / drink . ❛ cook . present my muse with home - cooked food . ❛ brush . work a brush / comb through my muse’s hair . ❛ read . silently read a book alongside my muse . ❛ hand . hold out a hand for my muse to take . ❛ dressed . help my muse put on an article of clothing . ❛ note . give my muse a note saying : [ content ] . ❛ amplify . turn up the music in the car .
→ 𝐈𝐈 . ANGST
❛ patch . help my muse patch up a wound . ❛ night terrors . hold my muse after they wake up from a nightmare . ❛ company . silently sit with my muse to comfort them. ❛ hospital . my muse is told that yours is in the hospital . ❛ revelation . show my muse evidence of a lie they told . ❛ indulge . find my muse drinking to cope . ❛ downfall . find my muse collapsed on the ground . ❛ console . comfort my muse as they cry . ❛ nurse . give my muse company in the hospital .
→ 𝐈𝐈𝐈 . AFFECTIONATE
❛ wink . wink at my muse . ❛ wrap . wrap an arm around my muse’s [ shoulders / waist ] . ❛ caress . gently caress my muse’s face . ❛ tousle . mess playfully with my muse’s hair . ❛ chest . place your head on my muse’s chest . ❛ comb . comb fingers through my muse’s hair . ❛ grasp . run to my muse & jump into their arms . ❛ lean . lean on my muse’s shoulder . ❛ tender . kiss my muse on the [ forehead / cheek / nose ] . ❛ abrupt . kiss my muse out of the blue . ❛ chaste . chastely kiss my muse . ❛ good morning . kiss my muse the morning after . ❛ volumes . gaze at my muse in a way that silently says ‘i love you’ .
→ 𝐈𝐕 . VIOLENT
❛ strike . [ slap / punch ] my muse in the face . ❛ gun . wield a gun at my muse . ❛ twist . twist my muse’s arm behind their back . ❛ throttle . aggressively wrap your hands around my muse’s throat . ❛ parch . burn my muse with a hot object . ❛ take down . forcefully bring my muse to the ground . ❛ gouge . wield a sharp object at my muse . ❛ shunt . shove my muse backwards . ❛ stickup . yell at my muse to put their hands in the air. ❛ shoot . [ fatally / non-fatally ] shoot my muse . ❛ stab . stab my muse with a [ knife / other object ].
→ 𝐕 . NSFW
❛ surprise . send an unexpected nsfw image to my muse . ❛ pin . push my muse against a [ wall, table, other ] . ❛ go down . go down on my muse . ❛ choke . intimately wrap your hands around my muse’s throat . ❛ belt loops . pull my muse closer by their belt loops . ❛ skinny dipping . go skinny dipping with my muse . ❛ rip . tear a piece of clothing from my muse’s body . ❛ mark . leave a mark on my muse’s body [ specify where ] .
evolution has a destination not to combat nature but to supersede it
❝ it's not that easy ❞ the commander rolls her neck , burdened by the weight of her mistakes. Caitlyn had ventured so far past lost in the prior months it seemed that now any decision was the wrong one.
❝ there are so many things set in motion - and I - I just gave the okay because I thought it was the right thing , but I'm starting to regret so many choices ❞ , top of her list - listening to Ambessa.
Her initial retort draws a noise akin to an amused huff from the herald. “ No. It never is, ” he concedes, “ but there is always a choice to take the correct action right now rather than later, even if it isn't easy. ” His community is far enough removed from the upper city and its politics to feel very little of its decisions and consequences thereafter, yet Viktor is not blind to the discrimination Zaunites are facing, how the scrutiny grew, even.
“ The refusal to make further decisions due to fear of mistakes or the disapproval of one's peers and superiors is a choice in itself, as well. ” A lesson he himself learned not too long ago. “ And frankly, it is the worst choice one can make. ”
Dion is not an easily tired man. As greedy as he is, there is reason for it, to keep going and going until there is nothing left that exists in his mind and body. To lose himself over and over again until he does not have to think, not until he is forced to return to the life beyond this room.
Dion's back arches when he feels the weight upon his chest. Miguel is handsome, even more-so, somehow, with how the smoke curls in the air, caressing his hips. Fingers dip across his torso, exploratory and gentle. Unbidden, a small whimper slips through Dion's lips as he all but pants for this contact, this close touch.
He wants more. He needs more.
His cock twitches not-so-subtly against Miguel when a hand pins his own, and Dion wonders if it must be obvious how much he wishes to simply submit. He does not wish to think. No, he does more than enough thinking in his role. He just wants to be ruined. To become nothing. To be less than what he usually is, because where else in his life is there the space to follow and just exist?
Dion's does not struggle against the hold, but his hips rock up, cock filling with the sheer thought of doing more again. Perhaps he should pay Miguel extra for his service. Dion has used him far more than his fair share, though... do escorts switch? Dion does not know. He only knows they present themselves as a mere hole to be used, but Miguel touches him, caresses him as if Dion were truly his lover, so if Dion were to request... something else, Dion may have to pay extra.
The nerves catch in his throat. He swallows hard. He should ask. He has paid for this time. Yet... does Miguel enjoy having his hole used so? He must surely be sore. Dion knows simply from experience, too, that going for further rounds can be bruising, but Dion knows he is a glutton for such punishment, that it only helps hollow out his being and leaves him deliciously empty.
A choked noise leaves him at the roll of Miguel's hips, the pressure at his midsection. Dion's eyes flutter closed when lips press against his own, and he rocks his hips up, desperate for some friction, desperate for...
His mind drifts. He inhales the drug, and shudders in the wake of it. A pleasant buzz thrums through his veins and he moans into Miguel's mouth. Shameless, almost, and he kisses Miguel as hard as he can, as much as he can from his position, until he becomes lightheaded with the lack of air.
When they part, it feels as if Dion's nerves evaporate ever further with the smoke curling from his throat.
"Are you certain?" he whispers, voice husky and ragged from desire. Eyes, half-lidded, examine Miguel's features even as Dion's hips cannot help a slight jerk, his leaking tip dragging against Miguel's skin. He pants. His arousal floats higher than ever. "You must be sore... if so, I would welcome your touch inside me instead." He tugs ever-so-slightly at the hand trapping his wrist, but not enough to break the resistance. "I enjoy this, too." A pause, and he must add, "but I encourage such a direction only if you would find genuine pleasure in it."
Dion takes his breath away ⸺ quite literally so, with the way he deepens the kiss, doesn't allow him to break away until he's had his fill. And Miguel is more than happy to let him have it.
Sparks of pleasure shoot up his spine, run through his veins and make him clutch onto the man beneath him tighter. Arousal sits heavy in his belly, and Miguel grinds his hips down against the other's to chase just the tiniest bit of relief. He has half a mind to simply sink down on Dion, inch after delicious inch. Although the soreness hasn't subsided, Miguel knows that it will take but a minute for the pleasure to override any pain. Dion is evidently more than ready for their next round, after all. Yet Dion's question, and request thereafter, give him pause.
Frankly, Miguel doesn't make it a habit to switch. The people seeking out an escort to fuck them, to perhaps hold them down and dominate them, tend to not pick him, after all. No, he's too dainty, his build lean and soft, his expertise lying elsewhere. His customers tend to look for a conversation partner in their loneliness, or someone they can show off as a pretty piece of accessory at a public event. And then there are his other customers that want to hold HIM down, to do with him as they please, pliable to their wants and needs as he is.
Just as pliable as he decides to be to Dion's wants and needs, even if he might not be able to fully indulge him. Even if Miguel does not switch per se, he knows more than enough to please Dion in whichever way he wants.
“ ⸺ Of course, ” he purrs, pressing his lips to Dion's once more. His fingers still interwoven with the other's, Miguel gives a gently squeeze ere he releases him and shifts off of him. The oil they used before stands on the nightstand still, and he grabs it whilst his other hand nudges Dion's thighs apart to settle between them instead.
Many scars litter Dion's torso and arms ⸺ less are scattered around his pelvis and hips. The few that Miguel does see, he traces with the thumb of his left hand, his right unscrewing the bottle of oil. Tipping the bottle, Miguel allows the liquid to drip into the palm of his hand and spreads it onto his other palm and his fingers quite liberally. The oil feels cold against his heated skin initially, sending goosebumps up his arms, and Miguel takes a few moments to allow it to warm up.
“ Relax for me, won't you? ” A gentle command, one that Miguel keenly observes Dion's reaction to. He's certain that he's the type to like following orders in bed, but a little probing never hurts. He reaches out, tracing a vein along the underside of Dion's throbbing cock before he reaches down further, finding his entrance and gently pressing against the slight resistance. With Dion's willingness and the help of the oil, it takes but a moment for Miguel to breach him, pushing a first finger into him to his first, then second knuckle easily. Still he pushes in further, curling his finger to seek out that sweet, sweet spot inside of Dion that would have him see stars.
i want to be good. (i want you to fear me.) i want to do what's kind, and gentle, and right. (i want to rip it all to pieces with my teeth.) i want to make the world a better place. (i want to shove my suffering down the throat of the world and watch it choke.)
man of progress
** platonic / familial actions.
send one of these in to see my muse’s reaction ( add “ +reverse” for my muse to do the action to yours )
[ embrace ] - your muse pulls mine in for a gentle embrace.
[ coffee ] - your muse brings mine a mug of fresh coffee.
[ ruffle ] - your muse ruffles my muses hair.
[ pat ] - your muse pats mine on the shoulder.
[ piggyback ] - your muse jumping on my muses back.
[ kiss ] - your muse presses a kiss to my muses forehead.
[ bake ] - your muse presents mine with freshly baked cookies.
[ flower crown ] - your muse places a flower crown atop my muses head.
[ cook ] - your muse cooks my muse a meal.
[ lullaby ] - your muse sings my muse to sleep.
[ fort ] - your muse surprises my muse with a pillow fort.
[ gift ] - your muse presents my muse with a gift.
[ hold ] - your muse holds my muses hand.
[ calm ] - your muse calms down my panicked muse.
[ cheek ] - your muses kisses my muse on the cheek.
[ boop ] - your muses boops my muse on the nose.
** sickness sentence starters.
“ you need to rest. ”
“ have you eaten today ? ”
“ i made you some tea and soup. ”
“ i’m fine, it’s nothing. really. ”
“ listen, you need to lay down. ”
“ please listen to me. ”
“ do i need to force you to the doctors ? ”
“ i hate chicken soup. ”
“ i can’t just lay about in bed all day ! ”
“ it hardly hurts anymore, honestly.
“ you’re burning up ! ”
“ lay back down right now. ”
“ i have things to do today ! ”
“ i’m just dehydrated, that’s all. ”
“ i will lock you in your room if you don’t stay in bed. ”
“ let me take care of you. ”
“ you don’t have to do everything yourself. ”
“ i don’t need your help. ”
“ i ran you a bath. ”
“ tell me how to help you. ”
my pookie
TIMEBOMB again
hecate's faces
Ma Meilleure Ennemie
" eat. you haven't touched your food in days. " ( zaun viktor for jinx )
✱˚。⋆ ↪ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 ⸺ @hexcrsd
Viktor's voice cuts through the silence that's ruled her since ⸺ since THAT day. It startles her enough that she's tempted to throw the wrench in her hand at the scientist. For startling her, AND for his comment. Yet Jinx goes entirely still instead, her grasp on the tool tightening enough for her knuckles to turn white, shimmer-purple eyes staring at the unfinished bomb on the desk before her.
Each death adds a new voice; it's a rule, a constant in her life, one that she's learned so long ago. Most of them are minor, quiet. Strangers she's only heard yell once or twice ere they get riddled with bullets one way or another. A few voices are incredibly loud at times. OBNOXIOUSLY loud. Mylo had always been the loudest, always scratched and prodded at her confidence and slim patience the easiest. Like he had always done before he was crushed by the rubble.
But Powder is finally dead, and with her, the voices died as well. And as much as Jinx tries bothering Silco, tries to make him talk to her... he stays silent.
Well... She did fuck up pretty badly. She wouldn't want to talk to herself after that, either.
Swallowing once, Jinx loosens her grip on the wrench again, shifting to carry on with her gadgetry. Not once does she look at Viktor, back remaining turned towards him as she hunches over her desk. Ignores the plate of food brought to her.
“ ⸺ Maybe 'cause I'm not fuckin' hungry, ” she replies with a huff.
JINX & EKKO in "Ma Meillure Ennemie" MV