IRON IN VELVET.

EVERY TIME I TOUCH SOMEONE, I'M THEM. I'VE BEEN EVERYONE, FEELS LIKE...

[rohgue]

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#rohgue ━━ ROGUE OF MARVEL'S EARTH-616. INDIE AND PRIVATE. STUDY IN IDENTITY, WANTING, FOUND FAMILY, SELF-DETERMINATION, WELLS OF EMPATHY, AND WORKING IT OUT THE DIFFICULT WAY. by isa, 21+.

¹ carrd. ² pinterest. ³ metas. ⁴ prompts. non-roleplay blogs dni.

[local-lesbian-tree-demon]

they should invent a body that feels normal to be inside of

[snkts]

Like my namesake, I'm fast and I'm mean, and when I get mad...

INDEPENDENT || SELECTIVE || SEMI-PRIVATE

James "Logan" Howlett - Weapon X - The Wolverine

Adamantium bonded by Jay. 18+. Multiship multiverse.

A STUDY IN:

Living Ghosts; Found Family; Tired Team Dad; Anger as Armor; Asshole with a Heart of Gold; Becoming the Antihero; the Nature of Weapons; Finding the Good; Breaking Free; The Drawbacks of Immortality; And Rewriting The Blank Slate.

CARRD || ASK || RULES

promo by @bladedflower || commissions link

PEOPLE GET HURT!

[roidesvoleurs]

indie Gambit / Remy LeBeau. Here for a good time. 18 + / CET / Vibes & Verses included free of ᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇ.

sideblog to @himbohotel

CODE | ©

[rohgue]

re:sunday mayhaps consider how every time rogue finds herself able to touch, it's a whole new experience, like finding her feet all over again. her first however-many times only took place when she was completely depowered. the first time she gained control of her powers, she had the ability to take more sitting right under her skin and had a conscious choice to do so; this time around, it's more of a conscious choice not to, and it's also her first time around with supplementary superstrength and stamina and whatnot intact......trust there was a trial and error period lol

[rohgue]

i have been odyssey'd

[roidesvoleurs]

❛ Aww, don't be like dat, sha. You always gon' be de perfect height t' smooch for Ol' Gambit. ❜ And to demonstrate, he bends down to nuzzle at her left temple. The perfect height, and he'll die on that hill. Like the smooth bastard he is, he leads them in a slow, waltz-like shuffle around the living room, crooning. ❛ I said my ol' lady, she my ol' lady / She my ol' lady, she is my sweet baby, ❜ the shuffle slows to a stop as his grin widens. ❛ Hey, baby. ❜

[rohgue]

Rogue grumbles mockingly, nonsensically, follows his lead with complete give. So maybe she is the perfect height for her nose to brush against his collar, a not-quite kiss, a huff warm against the bone, and a whiff of him ready at a whim. His voice's vibration does well to lull her further, softened eyes only opening at the prompt, and she tilts her head back all the way to look at him right, a faint grimace put on. ❝ Hurtin' me already. ❞ And she rolls her head, lets it loll to the side, stretching and exposing her poor, rickety neck.

[rohgue]

that's her spot your honor she lives there

[roidesvoleurs]

❛ Always forget how short y' are.... ❜

[rohgue]

❝ Ain't short ... you're just the one here built like a beanstalk. Tryna give me a crick in my neck by my old age. ❞

[firstethicalpisces]

girl nothing is ever gonna be all the way together just enjoy the bits and pieces #yourfragments

[rohgue]

it's gonna be dark soon.

THE WALKING DEAD ⤷ @osuspiria.

This is just an old pastime. It's been a while since she used to come up here with a blanket, a book, sometimes a boy and hide away — well, not this rooftop, but the thought counts all the same. Fresh air, the last breaths of sunlight, and a bit more privacy than she can get behind shared walls. ❝ A lil' moonlight never hurt nobody. ❞ It's doable, now with Simon's powers and ... never mind. Her thoughts are all her own. And regardless of if they weren't, they're just quieter here.

She's got half a mind to invite Wanda to sit — if not out of courtesy's obligation, then for the look on the lady's face that she can't quite read; there's a breadth of matters arcane and uncanny behind her eyes that are just the sort of thing Rogue can never get her head around, and it occurs to her after a minute that they might have some purpose in tow, too. Unless the white of her fringe were just some beacon, she can't think of one reason not to have let her alone. ❝ You need me for somethin’? ❞

[rohgue]

you can't take one day off? / 🥪🥺❓

CODE BLACK ⤷ @psyloche.

It’s nice seeing faces perk up at the sight of her, especially those here. Rogue only wishes it were out of pure fondness and not as much from the surprise of her presence as it is. Even now, it's with a modest chunk of laundry from her hamper at the Treehouse she hasn't had time to sort through or squeeze in between others' loads. Pretty obvious she ain't staying long, but she can stick around for lunch and however long it takes for her husband to find his way back to the lighthouse. Off who-knows-where the one morning she's just here to bum around. She couldn't write it more predictably herself if she tried, their luck.

Not that she would leave without seeing Remy either way — busy as she is, she's still human — but it gives her the excuse to sit and talk and not do much else, cup of coffee in her hands brewed special, in place of the tea already ready for serving. There'd still be plenty to catch up on after it all ran cold.

❝ It's a good lineup. Synch's a big help in the whole power-borrowing biz. Leaves a lot more brute force in my department, but, heh, that ain't a bad thing. ❞ It's been a month; somehow both a whole month and still only just one. Long enough to find a groove and still feel what she left behind for it. It's mostly the people, Rogue knows. There are no fewer friends on the new team but none quite as dear as on this one. Time zones and distance are one thing, schedules and longing are another. A hug ain't the same thing as an embrace, but Jubes don't need to hear about all that.

Rogue laughs shortly, mind piqued at an imagined insinuation. At this point, a day off wouldn't cut it. She couldn't leave it at that. ❝ I get days off. I'm off now, but all the time I get's just time I gotta, I dunno, ❞ a hand gestures off to who-knows-what, ❝ do laundry. You got these fools spoiled like dogs, Betts. Oughta start drafting 'em before their whole bodies atrophy. ❞ Her valiant mug shields her from Jubilee's protests, peripheral to Rogue's cheeky glance passed over the rim.

A flutter beats against her in response, more a heads-up than a request for permission anymore. She always was polite about it. It could have ended there and won her favor all the same, but instead, Rogue feels a phantom kiss, somehow hot against her pulse. It's all she can do to swallow the twitch in her face, a breath she does well enough to pass off for a yawn, and the sensation is gone too soon —- something gentle but that doesn't have to be. Maybe it's the poltergeist throwing a fit under her skin, pressing for its match all too late. Not even a proper taste and she considers how her overnight bag's barely served its purpose the last few weeks, how a lukewarm blanket just doesn't cut it, how her muscles ache for something to cling to.

Hell, maybe she does need the break. She never said she couldn't be swayed, or that she even needed convincing. ❝ Oh, who knows? Maybe there’s a long weekend in my future. ❞ She glances at her phone, practically willing him with her mind. Knowing Betsy, she's within her rights to hope he's already on the line.

[lesbianillyana]

X-Men (2013) #1

“Jubilee, what are you doing with a baby?”

“I wanted to bring him to the X-Men. Like you all did for me.”

[movalise]

holy motherly love

[rohgue]

how much money and how many months did your muse put into the romy divorce betting pool. don't worry i won't tell rogue

[rohgue]

❝ Here's your present. ❞ / from raven ❤️

— rogue's birthday bash ♡ ⤷ @redlands.

it's not a thing of practice to brace herself for a visit; it just happens. but besides the regular disappointment at certain life choices rogue's learned to roll her eyes at and move on from, it's been tame. almost suspiciously so, but she's nearly got it in her head to dismiss the feeling before ... the parting gift. before she forgets, mama says. right. rogue eyes the gift-wrapped parcel as its weight settles in her hands. ❝ what is it? ❞ in the back of her mind, she can hear brad pitt wailing, what's in the box? surely nothing of that caliber. it ain't even noon.

she senses a hardening set in in real time. offense at some perceived accusation, and her own face pinches to match. ❝ no, nothin'—! it's just — why're you lookin' at me like it's gonna explode?! ❞ maybe she should be worried, then! heaven forgive her for weighing whether to open it in a public space.

[roidesvoleurs]

“You shouldn’t be this close to me. I might take it the wrong way.” (for that au :eyes:)

❛ An' whatchu gon' do about it, Princess? ❜ Only a fool would provoke the daughter of Mystique and Destiny, but Gambit's feeling lucky. He's had his eye on her since the first time joining the Brotherhood. While he could give less than a fuck about mutant rights or what-the-fuck-ever the old-ass man blathers about, he finds himself attracted to Li'l Miss No Touch. There's something compelling there that makes the thief want to take a crack at breaking that tough front. She's his Fort Knox, and by Candra, he's going to pick at her until she unlocks for him.

Hopefully in his bed.

Over and over again.

Her eyes light up in her frustration at the nickname, and he revels in it, a cat who got the canary. He only has one mission here--and that's to bleed the Brotherhood dry in the name of the Thieves Guild and finally earn his rightful place--but she's so damn pretty that surely his daddy wouldn't mind the little detour.

He leans in closer, their bodies only a scant inch or two apart. He can feel her. The air that surrounds them is suddenly charged as the thief tilts his head, eyes shining in a colubrine way. ❛ Gon' finally putcha hands on Gambit? Bring it, baby. Gambit don't mind a li'l spark, hein? ❜ He takes a massive risk, the tip of his nose a hair away from the shell of her ear. ❛ Ka-boom. ❜

[rohgue]

for all the experiences her powers refuse to afford her, rogue isn't completely naive. she knows his type, knows the kind of spark he's looking for as well as the fact that she can't provide it. IT DOESN'T MEAN THIS TWO-STEP AIN'T ENTERTAINING. frustrating at times, annoying, but never dull. hell, she thinks him stupid for all the goading sometimes, and sometimes she just thinks him cruel. but she can be, too. rogue tenses, does well to only shove him away by a shoulder — it's the least he deserves, the ghost of his breath running down the back of her neck. it's for her own good as much as it is for his.

( and if her gloved hand seems to linger a moment, seems to briefly tug on his jacket before she takes her step away, it's not not playful. )

❝ maybe i oughta. find out all about your bad intentions. since in your head's 'bout the best i can do. ❞ she can imagine the rush of unsavory things —- taking his mind and memories into her, becoming ... one, in whatever way she can manage. yeah, she's not that desperate. it ain't a pleasant thing to begin with. 'sides, would it really cave in the universe for her to pick somebody's brain the old fashioned way? every little discovery feels golden, as much as watching the gears in his head turn trying to figure her out. ❝ but it wouldn't be half as good a time. ❞