#[LPM]

[nenagang]

Me re duele nunca ser suficiente

[obsmax]

nobody understands the relationship between a girl and her obsession with The Mirror Visitor Quartet (she will never know peace again)

[cuarzosrosas]

estoy trabajando y me entraron unas ganas de chupársela

[asteria7fics]

It’s finally here, goobers.

The much requested sequel to Remplir Sa Bouche is finally here!

I have slaved over a hot stove to prepare this meal for all of you, but it was a labor of love. I could not have expected that original one-shot would have been so well liked. It certainly served its purpose as an appetizer, so many people were asking for more!

Anyway, please enjoy the first course of your meal! (๑>؂•̀๑)

[elmorinn]

Watercolor sketchbook practice feat. The Mirror Visitor ^^

I found out the experimental way that one can use watercolor in the sketchbook I'm working with right now, even though the paper is quite thin and it's not a watercolor sketchbook at all- :D so i quickly sketched down some floating heads to test it out, and it turned soooo much better than I expected xD

And of course for practice I used TMV characters :D (still re-reading it...)

If you're wondering, the yellowish paint on the page bottom is actually gouache with gold glitter! The only gouache color left from my art class gouache set ;_;

Featured characters from left to right, top to bottom: Gaëlle, Elisabeth, Ambroise and Archibald from La Passe-Miroir / The Mirror Visitor series ^^

[mhtfhyyy]

Babeblade - lpm

[lovedbecauseitisknown]

The concept of incest in Anima is very interesting to me.

Obviously they must be a bit more relaxed than us about what is considered incest, given that they refer to each other as cousin. I don’t think that marrying each other presents any genetic problems since there’s about 8 or 9 generations between Ophelia and Artemis (and I’m assuming this length of time allows the cousins to be distant enough that it’s not a problem). Still, conceptually, this society is totally ok with marrying people they consider cousins.

They have a register of “consanguinity exemptions”, so the concept of incest does exist and there seems to be a not-so-strict line that they shouldn’t cross. I’d love to know what this line is (siblings? direct cousins?) and under what circumstances they decide that incest is ok.

[noa-de-cajou]

Day 10 : Furniture shopping

Jaako belongs to @corneille-but-not-the-author

_____

It’s been a while since this happened, but I hadn't missed it.

“When exactly did we lose them??”

“Here… More dangerous than forest.”

Maybe I should contextualize my predicament for the sake of clarity.

My name is Noelle J. Vincent. I am accompanied by Mao Aozora and Jaako.

And for the third time this month, I have lost my spouses at Ikea.

We’ve been in the process of moving in together to the Manor, and finding a bed big enough for Jaako’s giant frame has been quite the challenge. Mao is here for emotional support, meaning he complains out loud so I don’t have to.

“Noelle, have you tried calling them?” he asks.

“Both of their phones are on silent.”

“Shit. Should we make an announcement? Like for lost kids?”

“Sora is deaf and Mika will kill all of us if we embarass them like this.”

“Mika… won't kill. They’re… kind,” Jaako attempts in his poor english.

“Yeah, to you, maybe,” Mao mumbles before turning to me. “Is it always like this?”

“Yes. Sora gets distracted, doesn’t notice we're still walking ahead, Mika is the first to notice they're gone and goes back without telling anyone.”

“Jaako, can’t you sniff them?”

“He's not an animal, Mao.”

“Too… many… weird smells.”

Figures. This kind of outing is hard on Jaako too. I should be as efficient as possible to find them. Last time, Sora got lost because he was looking at bedsheets and lava lamps. The time before that, it was the LEDs. Is he like a magpie? Attracted to shiny things?

“Maybe we should separate.”

Mao groans, massaging his knee.

“Yeah, and get all of us lost? I don’t think so. If Ema’s stomach-turning horror movies taught me one thing, it's that if you get separated, you die.”

Right. His chronic pains might get in the way, too. This might be more complicated than I thought.

“I would argue that separating is usually the best course of action to ensure that at least one person will survive the threat. But since there is no life-threatening emergency, we should stay together.”

“I knew coming with you guys was a mistake.”

“Helpful.”

“Noelle… Your… box, is making noise.”

Jaako still calls cellphones “boxes”. It’s kind of endearing. But he's right, mine is vibrating. I look at the screen.

It's Mika. I immediately pick up.

“Yes.”

“Hey! Sorry I left without telling you guys. I found Sora.”

I breathe out a small sigh of relief.

“Good. Where are you?”

“Uh, in the hangar with all the furniture pieces. Sora’s rambling about how he found the best bedframe for Jaako but I don’t understand half of what they’re saying.”

“Okay. Stay right where you are. We're coming.”

“Yeah, will do- Oh shit she’s speeding ahead. I’ll try to at least keep her in the hangar but uuuuh gotta go love you bye.”

The call ends. I stare at my screen for a minute.

Gotta go love you bye.

Love you.

“... I love you too.”

“So?” Mao asks impatiently.

“They’re together. We’re going to join them.”

“Thank god.”

“... They… okay?”

“Yes, Jaako. They’re fine.”

The giant smiles at me, looking a lot less nervous. Being with Mika really did wonders for him. I guess it did for me too.

Anyways.

I have found my spouses at Ikea.

[bananindu]

I'm useless, I only had to do ONE thing

Kill me

[thal-chandra]

Thanks to @noa-de-cajou and @corneille-but-not-the-author for giving me the characters to do that old ass meme lmao

The characters are all over the place but I like them a lot. They're my babies. Also rip Dark you were here for one panel and it was to get away from the police

[corneille-but-not-the-author]

Fire

(I challenge you to indentify every character here, there are a few hints in the notes)

I've never been scared of fire.

I know it's stupid. Mom would always tell me I should be more careful when handling the candles to light up the scene. She would tell me "Fire is dangerous, fire is destruction".

But I wouldn't believe her. Because fire is light, and fire is love.

Fire is the way I dance and smile.

Fire is light in darkness, fire is our beating hearts.

Fire is life, and that's why i wanted to reignite the flames in your heart. That's why I made you walk in flames, so that you can see they can be tamed. So that you can see there is no danger in taking risks. So that we could love each other completely without being haunted by phantoms of our pasts.

We are one, right now.

And I love you more than anything.

I've always been scared of fire.

Mom would put her hand on my shoulder, make me look at her subjects, my subjects. She would smile and the flames, in the braziers, would expand the shadows on her face, making it look like a deranged mask.

Flame is the truth, and I couldn't bear it.

It would always be the same room. Those four walls, those pillars of stone, the Kraken Coast only has one hall worthy of being called kingly. And my mother, the Queen, would sit in her throne and deliver justice.

How many peope died while I was looking at them ?

How many have I seen perish in the flames Mother held ?

That was her magic. Flames. And she would use it against anyone daring to conspire against her. Sometimes, she would wake me up, in the middle of the night, and bring me to isolated places. Then, she would smile, and command.

Dodge. Dodge. Dodge. Or burn.

"You shall be a weapon. And I shall forge you."

Fire means truth. But distinguishing my nightmares from the truth, all those memories, is so difficult, now that it's other.

Fire is a weapon. And only I can wield it properly.

I'm merely a man of the Church. A devotee under Flame and her guidance. My passion, my drive, those are not to doubt anymore.

I was scared of fire, a long time ago. Now, I am the torch. I choose who to purify. I choose who to blame. I am justice.

Because it's all it's ever been about, isn't it ? Justice is just another name for power. And now, as I'm about to be crowned King, I'm the most just man in the land.

One last detail to solve.

One last problem.

Use this weapon one last time. Unleash my goddess upon the world. Purify those ignorants, those savages. And make sure the word will never be the same.

A long time ago, a Prophet told me I would be a Key to open a new Era. And if it means dancing in a symphony of flames, I would gladly oblige.

Fire is my tomb and I need to run.

I got back to save a life.

I will save a life.

Sacrifice mine.

Is it so problematic ?

...

I'm thinking about the one I love.

It's weakening me.

I need to do it.

They need you too.

I need to save him.

He's a murderer. You're the paragon.

That's because I'm the paragon I won't. Ever. Give up.

...

I'm so sorry.

But I don't think I can take any more steps.

...

Think about them. Never surrender. You already fought the flames, multiple times. Why would those be any different ?

It's a life.

And I'm going to save it. No matter the cost.

Flames. Flames everywhere.

Why are we doing this ?

It's a fight to the death. Between Men and Beasts. One against the Horde. It's a fight to get rid, once and for all, of those who kill and devour our children.

I feel dirty.

"You're not a murderer, Kaspar"

And so I killed to prove them wrong.

"You can stop this !"

I can't. I can't. It's too late.

"You're not a bad person, Kaspar Schutz."

Shut up. Shut up. Shut. UP.

...

A melody.

A last ditch effort to save me.

You shouldn't save me.

I am the one who lit the forest on fire. I am the one who killed all those people. While trying to bring justice to the world, I ended up being a second Walpurgis.

I did start the fire. And I do not control any of it, now.

I'm so sorry.

"There is still fire in him ! It's not over !"

I have lost coun of my patients. I would say it's roughly the ninetyth pseudo-corpse I'm getting today. This one is in a particularly bad shape, though. I recognize the commander of one of those two armies which are rendering my whole body of work fucking useless, outside.

"Hey ! Do you hear me ?!"

I scream, so that he does not fade into unconsciousness. I do not care from which side he is, or who he is, I'm a doctor. Doctor never let their patients die.

Not while they still have fire in them.

"Breathe ! What is your name, my dumb fucker ?!"

"Jar...Jarghalsaikhan..."

"Good ! I'll call you Jar ! I'm Herbert, pleased to meet you !"

I crack a smile. By those who call themselves gods, we're going to loose him. I grab my scalpel. Look at all those injuries. I hear the cries of the other soldiers. I hear the plaints.

I hear the war, outside.

"Stay with me, son !"

Think of life as a bright, magnificent flame.

Think of doctors as flamekeepers, always on duty, never letting it go.

Think of my job as anything else than the blood, the organs, the guilt, the empty stares, the end.

Think.

"Think, Jar ! And whatever you do, do, not, fucking, fall asleep ! Or you're dead, you hear me ?!"

He heard me right.

My smile stays on. Good. I think we can save this one.

Fire is passion.

Fire is love.

Fire is our skins, so firmly put against one another. The warmth, the kisses, uninterrupted.

Fire is the way you move and the way I feel.

Fire is the last step before transcendance.

Fire is the seventh sky.

Fire is my love for you.

For you all.

I might be an empress. A phoenix. The fire burning inside me is nor for my ennemies, not my opponent. It's a gentle one. For loving, only. Never hurting.

There was a time I thought it was a liability.

The truth is, I do not care, now.

They may see me as weak. They may see me as feeble.

But don't they dare lay a single hand on you.

I feel so little.

I'm trapped.

A little soul in a big hunk of metal.

I'm alone.

I'm scared.

But I have difficulties to grasp what is "scared".

Should I even be able to breathe ?

I don't think i'm breathing.

My little flame is so weak.

A smile.

Another victim of my existence.

I'm very sorry.

But at the same time...

"What is a child, anyway ?"

[ursulawhosoever]

Was it that I was always trying to save you

And you never wanted me to?

Or was it that I loved you?

You don't seem to see me sinking in, do you?

You're not content in your own head, are you?

You just want to kick me once again, don't you?

Don't you baby?

I did it again🎶🎶 Lisa Marie had one of the best voices ever🥹🖤

[obsmax]

[thal-ent]

Since my partners are doing the same, my OCs and their relationship with fire moment (from any of the universes I write for)

The flames never left my charred body. I'm lucky to even be able to move as much as I do, to have the scars barely visible on my skin. Yet I fight with it, see it devour the corpses of creatures less resistant than I am.

The flames scare me, and I know it is exactly what she sees as I face a scared eight year old. The boy in my arms is probably nine, at the latest, and he's holding onto my burned body.

I hear her cackle, her satisfaction. And I know she fears fire more than I do.

I aim. I shoot.

When she screams, the fire illuminates the tears burning my cheeks.

It's coming down. All around me, it's falling to pieces, and it's by my own will.

My hand is unsuable, even if I wanted I could not avoid the painful death that awaits me in drowning. Yet, for now, it's fire that surrounds me.

It's a shame, none of them died from it. I planned that for one of the victims. It would be such despair, to burn because of what you love, wouldn't it ?

I sigh, as my robot catches onto the flammes. She shot me, when I took her hand. She did, not the man right next to her. Truly, I do not know how those two even managed it. Maybe I underestimated the Hope she brought to the empty shell.

My hand hurts, as the flammes lick my feet.

A flame is something dangerous. It is not conscious, it is not with any will or thoughs, it is your fault for getting burnt.

I secure my gloves and work outfit before getting the glass. It turns red like the fire underneath it, I make it spin and grab my tools.

Fire is a tool, something to be careful with just as much as any other thing in my workshop. I see though it, like the glass it allows me to bend and shape, but what I see is distorted and I can't believe it for sure.

It only rises, after all.

She makes me love fire.

Fire and Light, sisters in a way, bringers of many things. Yet she's my lover, and I adore how her skins glows with her powers, how her eyes shine when they look onto the light she produces.

She's fire incarnate, more than any goddess wearing that name. She's Freedom, she's beauty. She's dangerous and so, so warm under my hands when I touch her, when I hold her.

Her touch lights me up, teaches me a warmth no other ever gave me. I hope my light, as cold as it may be, teaches her and shows her my love and devotion to her.

I know mom hates fire. Like she hates butterflies or my parents in law. I know why she hates all those things, she told me when I got old enough.

I'm not sure I understand really why. She never gave details about the pain in her back, about the swirls of skin that dad loves to kiss when they think I can't see them. I dont say that. I know she wouldn't be able to explain to me enough.

Fire hurts, yes. But I dont understand why it's something to be feared.

A fire is light up, a single torch for four men. It's a simple patrol, we're not supposed to fight tonight. The creatures are always easier to deal with in summer, when they can't be sure if the sun is really gone for good.

Mihail directs us, waves the torch too close to the leaves for my taste so I take the wood from his hands with the one that can whistand heat. He looks at me with fear, like he forgot I can even do that. I'm still a better hunter than him, and the fire of hatred shines in his eyes for a second before he lets go.

I dont speak, just move forward and avoid the branches and trees too close. A wildfire would be the worst thing to happen, far worse than fighting, and even the teen that's barely my brother's age knows it. I hear him whisper to Mihail, wondering why he lets me disrespect him. The old bag of bones does not awnser, plants seeds of doubts in the youth's by doing so.

They told me Ion is the new instructor, with uncle's retirement. I hope for him he's ready to burn the thorns of fear and hatred to the ground, and to tell the idiots to keep their torches lower.

I stop and listen, and the kid almost bumps into me. I stop him from falling with my right hand, and my eyes must be scarier than any flames because he does not make a sound.

I see a boar pass us and resume my pace.

The crack of the fire next to me does not warm me, and I find myself missing my home, missing hair sharing that color. But for now, I have to stay cold, and walk through the ashes of this place.

[asteria7fics]

Hope you’re hungry for the next course, because the second part of La Petite Mort is out NOW!

TW at the beginning of the chapter because I touch on some heavier subjects than normal in this one.

Bon appetite!