#cloudtm

[fferal-archive]

@cloudtm sent a meme: “Do it or I’ll make you.” + Public with Steve.

'Make me.'

That's what he'd say, to anyone who wasn't the disgraced and terrifying entity that Steve goddamn Rogers had become. The fact is, Steve making him do something would involve curbstomping. Metaphorically, and literally, and then even worse.

( And probably taking out his teeth, one-by-one. )

There's a collective laugh, here, an awkward, somewhat uncomfortable chuckle of the armed men -- hardened, kills under their belt -- witnessing this, seeing if he'll go along with it.

His face is red, hot, can't make eye contact with anyone; the room falls into a louder guffaw when he leans down, and opens his mouth wide, tongue out --

-- and shamefully laps at Steve's mud-encrusted, filthy boots in wide stripes --

[slasharch2]

simeon cyprus  ,   are you… smelling me?

             the full moon approaches, and simon could feel himself losing control. sooner and sooner, these days, it felt like. where once he could work up until the night before a moon, now simon closed the week prior and found his way back up into the mountains, where he could transform without hurting anyone. only days remained until the harvest moon, and the bartender believed he could make it, this time. he could wait it out, fight the urges that came with his condition. this wouldn’t be the first time he had been wrong. leaning away from the man who stood across the bar, simon’s expression doesn’t change, despite being called out on his accidental indulgence. his pride had been wounded, but that was nothing new, either.  ‘ your cologne. it smells familiar, ’  a good enough cover up, one given through slightly slurred words. hands land on the counter.  ‘ won’t happen again. promise, ’     @cloudtm.

[partymask]

               don’t get attached, don’t make friends. you never know when you’re going to get betrayed out here, throat slit in the sand, or a bullet straight through an eye. stumbling across the girl, party had half a mind to take her back to where she said she came from. running around out here with a savior complex - there was only room in the dunes for one martyr. then poison saw something in her ; part of himself, a younger him, someone who wanted to help, who would venture out into a wasteland and risk their own life for others. foolish, really. party wouldn’t recommend it. look at what’s happened to him - alone, wandering, looking for people to rescue when he can’t even save himself. but it was her choice, ultimately. which is why she was sitting in the passenger set of his trans am as he drove through the sandstorm.  ‘ get your arm inside, roll up th’window, ’  one hand retracts from the steering wheel to do the same, hot air now trapped in the car with them. chin nods out the windshield, offering a view of the dense sky ahead.  ‘ storm’s comin’ up. strap in, ’     @cloudtm​.

[sexploitations]

@cloudtm sent:  "you look so pretty like this."  /  quest.

her breath comes in soft exhales, lids half closed in pleasure.  the throb of teeth marks shoots from her chest throughout her body.  it’s-- nice to have these quiet moments between the two of them.  sadie’s laid out beneath her lover (mate?  she isn’t sure of the terminology), legs spread to accommodate quest’s mass and form exposed to his gaze.  it’s easier to deal with when he’s wolfed out, when it’s just primal instinct and she’s overtaken by pleasure.

it’s different when it’s just them.  there’s a certain feeling in the pit of her stomach at his compliment, but she tries to push it aside, even if her body goes hot, goes flush.  sadie’s lips curl up into a smile as she lifts herself up on her elbows to lessen the distance.  “ you’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart. ”  she brings one foot up to draw against the side of his thigh, gently, so gently.  “ are you just gonna stare at me all night, puppy?  not that it’s an issue-- but i’m naked and you’re not.  that’s not fair to me, is it? ”

[acenixon]

freyja lysimachia  ,  042.   between the tall shelves of a thrifted book shop.

             it’s the smell of books and the calming atmosphere that keeps ace coming back to this job. set aside the money they need to survive in a too expensive city ; there was no where else ace would rather be than in a shop filled floor to ceiling with books. rows and rows of novels, autobiographies, poetry and music line the shelves that ace now knows like the back of their hand. clerk wanders through the aisles with their cart of donations, eyes meeting that of another’s standing a bit down from them.  ‘ can i help you find something? ’  ace perks up, hands rested on the cart as they give the other a grin.  ‘ or give recommendations - that’s my specality, ’     @cloudtm.

[destruqtivist]

❛ i guess it runs in the family, huh? ❜ / finn & kylo.

𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒

Runs in the family.

For anyone else the words would be inconsequential. They would mean nothing but of course, for him, they mean absolutely everything. It takes a second for the words to settle in, for Kylo to remember the other's traitorous ways, for the rage to resurface and bubble up into his monstrous thing.

The look he gives is vicious but predictable. The same look that got him so much grief from Snoke about wearing his emotions on his sleeve. The wounded subject of 'family' gone completely unspoken but so evident in his glare.   🙶   The ground you walk on is exceptionally thin, traitor. Proceed carefully.     🙷   There is no tantrum, no flung bodies manipulated by the force, no outburst of violent emotions. Only a bloodthirsty gaze and a sense of righteousness. After all, the other could hold potentially useful information. He could not be harmed. 

For now.

[overclocksaaa]

"We're hosting the poker game this week, are you coming, or-"  He pauses when he reaches the fridge and pulls it open, glancing back over his shoulder with an eyebrow raised.  The floating poker game is a long time tradition among the various super groups:  Informal, never a steady thing but someone hosts it when things are calm enough, he always gets accused of cheating and he always has to defend himself by pointing out counting cards is perfectly acceptable as long as it's not done to defraud...Point is, things are calm enough for it to resume, he's got a hankering to hand Ben Grimm his ass in cards and clean his metaphorical clock (mostly because it's funny to hear him complain), and, well, the more the merrier, right.  Besides, he doesn't think Wanda's ever actually come to one.  "I'm getting those little snack things from that one place you like for it - thanks, for the recommendation, by the way."

@cloudtm​ / wanda

[mahdenamoved]

@cloudtm​     :     perhaps i like it better when i’m the one doing the destroying-

                 energy courses through your veins as you stand : steady and sure, hilt of sword held loosely in the palm of your hand, breath ragged as you inhale and exhale with a pounding heart and a restlessness barely sated. you turn flickering gold eyes on him, a figure at your side, and you bare your teeth in a victorious grin. his voice is low to your keen ear, and your grin shifts in to a smirk as you tilt your head and you lift a brow, and you raise a shoulder as you turn your head away, eyes drifting over the carnage left in your wake.     

           “perhaps you were too slow,” you respond wryly, tone dry and your words drawled as you twist your hand and the cosmic energy you wield fades to nothing in your palm. your eyes flit up to meet his, and you shrug.     “next time- i’ll leave you one to play with, hm?”