MOVED.

Independent Rider (Ailill mac Mata) Roleplay Blog

[ridehiswhip-moved]

im done moving blogs so i’ll archive this one shortly. feel free to unfollow!

[poovellamkettuppar]

*seductively slips into existential melancholy*

[ridehiswhip-moved]

Had a long talk with an old time friend and after considering it for weeks now, I decided that I'm gonna keep this muse. Most likely will move blogs and be a little selective for my own comfort. It makes me feel bad that I have to do this but I'd like a better experience for myself since writing helps me cope. I'd rather not make it stressing for me and I still want to keep the enjoyable vibe and not feel like roleplaying is a job that I have to do as opposed to something I do because I want to. Though if you genuinely wish to interact, don't be afraid to ask for the blog! I'll update you once it's done. Additionally, I'll be adding more verses! One of which involves young Ailill during his days as a knight in training of Medb's household and Queensguard. In this timeline, he's quite the guy with reckless but heroic ideals which is a weird spin to think about what made him tyrannical and can it be argued that it was something he did by himself or was he truly heavily influenced by Medb as often told and confirmed in most texts? Mystery. While on a break, I also came up with a lot of headcanons for Ailill. Mostly focused on his mannerisms, habits outside of his vices, favorites, beliefs and morals or lack thereof. There's a lot that I've continued to expand and still willing to explore and I'm grateful that people appreciate this character and I hope you continue to as I tell more.

[c-ptsdofficial]

list of Big Moods

ache

fuck

yikes

empty

soft

[ridehiswhip-moved]

st. patrick’s day.

How does a day like this begin?

Most would ask. The King stood resolute, firm in every belief in his rugged bones as the kingdom continued to lay before him with the same enticing aura posed by a woman urging a lover to come close, as he did with you in a manner so enchanting, breathtaking even. Or at least it would be for some people. What of you? You may be the type to find such a daring gesture endearing or perhaps you'd find it more fitting to call it mellow. Either way, it's cherubic in every sense of the word. How he hooked his arms around your waist with such tenderness, how he gazed at you with compulsion on his anticipating eye. He didn't wear a crown, no. Still, why does it feel as if there's a halo hovering above it? Asking you to reach it, feel it for yourself?

"Won’t you try and kiss me?" he spoke delicately to your ear, willing to surrender himself at the moment to whatever or wherever place you could take him today. His touch alone says it all-- the grating of the gloved fingers against your cheeks, should they come off heated, and the brushing of his yielding brims against your lobe. "I'm Irish."

Humorous as he was, he knew which words to use when sending a message across, especially if it's meant to be stifling, so addicting and so sensual that it's close enough to be poison, yet the kind of toxicity that you'd gladly indulge in at any time or place. Perhaps now? Perhaps today by the windowsill of his thriving castle with his hips against yours and your fingers on his back? Scratching, clawing... feeling every bit of him at each intake of holy breath.

Sometimes kisses do pay the debts of the devils or how they choose to conceal themselves with a smiting grin. But you love it, don’t you? Not yet? Oh, you’d love it so.

His moving mouth promises fulfillment, tongue scheming to gratify every nerve in your moving body. Do you dare? Do you dare at all? 

If so, would you like to partake in such a satisfying act?

[ridehiswhip-moved]

I'm on mobile. I'm still contemplating as to whether or not I wish to pursue this character. I admit I wasn't in the brightest of moods these days and I haven't been feeling better hence the lack of responses on the messages I've been getting. I love this character. I really do. But recently it started feeling as if I have to always prove something which sucked out the fun behind writing. The point behind me writing an original character after years of spending time with canons is because I got tired of the comparison or merely not being enough for some people. I've noticed there wasn't really any difference. I'm still being criticized over little or misunderstood details. I'll be back. At the end of the month, perhaps? Yeah. I'm considering picking up a new muse and put Ailill to rest but the relationships I've developed with him or the ones I've planned with people are such a waste. So, give me time to think about it. I'm here. Still am. I'll be back, I promise. Just give me time to be okay.

[ridehiswhip-moved]

You need stop writing Aillil as a creepy father to Finnabair. It's giving me incest vibes when you write crack for him.

LISTEN HERE

DON’T FUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO DO.

IM SO FUCKING SICK OF PEOPLE COMING AT ME WITH THESE ACCUSATIONS LIKE I HAVE NO FUCKING BASIS. WE’RE TALKING ABOUT A CHARACTER WHO WAS LITERALLY SHITTY TO HIS OWN DAUGHTER AND MASKED IT AS LOVED. WHO WAS THE MAIN BOULDER IN HER ENTIRE LIFE AND CONSIDERED HER AS SOME POSSESSION HE OWED AND HAD THE RIGHT TO TREAT AS EXPENDABLE AND STILL RECOGNIZED HIS FEELINGS FOR HER AS FAMILIAL LOVE BECAUSE THAT’S HOW FUCKING WRETCHED HIS MIND IS. THAT’S A FUCKING CHARACTER POINT AND NO WAY HAVE I FUCKING IMPLIED THAT THOSE FEELINGS ARE BEYOND FAMILIAL BECAUSE THAT SHIT IS DISGUSTING AND EVEN THE MYTH SAID NOR IMPLIED NONE OF THAT. NO CONTEXT DID.

IM SO FUCKING TIRED OF WRITING SO MUCH ABOUT AILILL AND ELABORATING HIS ENTIRE BEING AND PERSONALITY ONLY FOR YOU AND A LOT OF PEOPLE TO RECOGNIZE WHAT I DO FOR CRACK OR SHITPOSTING ONLY. THAT NO MATTER HOW MUCH I TRY TO BE AS DETAILED AS POSSIBLE, NO ONE’S EVER GONNA FUCKING TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY. THAT WHAT I’M DOING IS BULLSHIT IN THE END BC IF I KNEW THIS WOULD’VE HAPPENED A LOT, I WOULDN’T HAVE EVEN TRIED

GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE JFC WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I’VE BEEN PRETTY MUCH EXAMINING EVERY SMALL DETAIL I COULD ACHIEVE IN THE MYTH. WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I WAS PRETTY MUCH JUST CONNECTING THE DOTS TO MAKE A LIFE IN HIS LITTLE SHIT ASS SUPER MINOR ROLE. WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I WAS GEARING MY FUCKING ASS JUST TO THINK ABOUT HEADCANONS

FUCKING SHUT UP IM DRAINED FUCK YOU IM SO EXHAUSTED AT PEOPLE TELLING ME HOW TO WRITE MY GODDAMN CHARACTER WHEN THEY CAN’T EVEN FUCKING SPELL HIS NAME CORRECTLY

[ridehiswhip-moved]

[ridehiswhip-moved]

"By who do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?" Expecting his class, not identity of course.

“Owe, owe, owe. What do you mean? There is no such thing. I am here of my own volition, brought by my traveling feet. Though, that is not the question, is it?” Fair maiden, wishing to ask his name in a manner so discreet. A shy lady? Far off from her facial expressions alone. There’s confidence in the way she carried herself, reminiscent of someone from a past so distant. “I am King Ailill of Connacht. As to whom you owe this meeting’s pleasure…”

“Perhaps you owe it to yourself?”

[ridehiswhip-moved]

Takes the king's glass of wine and drinks from it instead.

“How splendid,” he commented in surprise, not noticing her arrival. “You do not meet me for a considerable amount of days and the first thing you do is take my drink.” An odd greeting, but not one he couldn’t learn to appreciate, though it might take a bit of time. All he could was watch her consume the wine he had prepared for himself, her lips touching the ring of the glass too finely for his taste. “I would offer you my greatest drink, but it seems you are having it already.”

[ridehiswhip-moved]

@ladydiaochan:

[text: Sweet King]– 17:54pm I have asked one of my handmaidens to take this picture, I hope it is to your leisure. As it is hard to take one in such an angle. I miss you, Ailill, truly from the bottom my heart miss you. I am not keen of this distance. Ever since.. the village burning.. what I did to hurt you.. the pain still lingers when we are far apart. I am waiting for you, my love. Awaiting the day to simply look upon you – by then will my heart beat again. 

Good gracious. How does one respond to this? She really does know how to surprise a man and sweep him off by his toes. The King almost dropped the device on his hand, thankfully he was sitting on his bed and the softness of it saved it from crushing. Still, to see her again regardless of the image’s nature, the message made his heart quite flutter. Perhaps he should… send her a greeting or two in return.

[ask-ishtar]

On the first page of our story. The future seemed so bright. Then this thing turned out so evil. I don’t know why I’m still surprised. Even angels have their wicked schemes. And you take that to new extremes. But you’ll always be my hero. Even though you’ve lost your mind.

[ridehiswhip-moved]

Things I Currently Love

REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG Tagged by: @prismatic-homunculus​

ONE SONG: Bad Things - Machine Gun Kelly feat. Camila Cabello TWO MOVIES: The Reader, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button THREE SHOWS: Mr. Robot, How To Get Away With Murder, Gotham FOUR PEOPLE: Rihanna, Sia, SUD, The Weeknd FIVE FOODS: Cheesecake, Tapa, Pizza, Lasagna, Sinigang SIX PEOPLE TO TAG: @actuallycuchulainn​, @boargored​, @cfdualities​, @dxnofthieves​, @enchantedcrimsongrace​ & @finnmaccoolguy

[klierxes-archived]

Up next on Keeping up with Connachta, Finnabair has been kidnapped, what will Medb do???

@ridehiswhip @ridehercrop @childoflore

[ridehiswhip-moved]

What's the first thing you think of when you hear the words "bad memory"?

“Ungratefulness.” His tone possessed a remarkable passiveness, delving into an inner part of him he’d often ignore. “When you think about it, no memories are bad. Perhaps some might argue but the ones I’ve faced had been a product of my own decisions.” Now, do not mistake it as him carrying the guilt or the blame. It’s stating a fact-- the type that most would blatantly refuse to recognize. “And the wheel would not have spun that way if only I was a bit contented at the way things were.”

[ridehiswhip-moved]

“He loves me, he loves me not… oh.”

VALENTINE’S INSPIRED MEMES

“Quite the irrational woman you are to find joy in chance.” He made a passing comment toward the busy maid, her hand nitpicking petals leisurely without a care in the world. Eyes followed the moving fingers and at last reached the final pull, only to be as disappointed as her. “So, does that mean he does not love you?” A stupid man, whoever he was. “Fret not, dear Mink. For surely someone out there dearly loves you. I would know for I love y-”

Instinctively did he cover his goddamn mouth.

“...hmm.” Bloody hell. That was not supposed to happen.

[horrificmemes]

Reblog if you want anons about your muse’s worst memories.

Repressed or not, dig into my muse’s past and make them talk about things they wish they could forget.