#ah poor ivory

[westywrites]

Last Line Tag

I'm finally getting a chance to go through posts I've been tagged in from the past who-knows-how-long (far too long)...

A long, long while ago, @kaiusvnoir tagged me in a Last Line Tag post. Thank you so much! Sorry for the immensely delayed response. Here's a little something that has recently been edited/rewritten for Draft 3 of Essence of Stars (book one of The Corvine).

Ivory and Cambridge sat in amicable silence as birds flew around the clearing and small animals scurried through the trees. Under the bright blue sky, he could almost forget the worry twisting in his chest. What Avenir had said at the campfire the night before terrified him. But he couldn’t fight the Almighty’s plan for him. It would do no good. All he could do for now was enjoy the peace while he had it. In the quiet, he could hear Cambridge’s breath quicken. His heart followed suit.

I have at least one more tag game post that will be scheduled to post later today, and I'm bad at deciding who to tag, so I'm not going to tag anyone in this one.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 6)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer wants you to be the Mother of his child. Rated E bc Explicit.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

((This one fought me so hard, I just wanna get it out there and I’ll proof-read it later I’m sorry.))

The first time didn’t take, as you’d come to learn 3 days post-coitus with the Devil. It had left you bereft, not exactly disappointed but also not certain if you should go out and buy 150% proof alcohol to mark the occasion. 

You settled for enough wine to dull your senses before sending a text with your Hellphone. The fact that inter-dimensional phone lines were possible was simply added to the list of not-even-gonna-think-about-it of things that came with your new reality. 

A blood-curdling shriek from your pocket made you curse as you dove for it. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey-yy!” Lucifer responded cheerfully before clearing his throat. “So it um… it didn’t work?” 

“Unless being pregnant with hellspawn looks and feels exactly like my time of the month, no. It didn’t.” You said. 

He sighed on the other end, air blowing through the receiver and fucking up already poor reception. “Okay. Shit. Well, maybe we can work something else out—”

“I’ll just text you when it’s over and we can try again.” You replied as you leaned back against your headboard. 

“You-you wanna try again?” Lucifer’s surprise made your eyes roll.

“Yeah, just give me a couple days.” You’d felt a wave of fatigue crashing over you.

Suddenly you were boneless, barely able to even hold the phone up to your ear. Lucifer’s hesitant delight barely registered yet you could imagine him behind closed eyelids, smiling crookedly with those ivory fangs. 

“Y-I-uh, ok great! That works for me if it works for you!” He practically shouted. “Do you need anything in the meantime?”

“‘Mmmmffh, a nap.” Lucidity snapped back for a moment as you eyed the phone in your peripheral. “Also please don’t call or text me. I’m gonna throw this thing out the window if I have to hear someone screaming bloody murder one more time.” 

—

Lucifer being startled by the ringing of his Hellphone wasn’t at all peculiar. 

However — 

The sound of a love song, though tinny and compartmentalized to the King of Hell’s coat pocket, made Asmodeus perk up. 

He glanced down to see his diminutive brother rush for the device like his life depended on it. It was easy to feign polite indifference as Lucifer excused himself from the cafe table for a moment, but by the time the King had returned, Asmodeus was leaning forward expectantly. 

“That’s new.” He said. 

Lucifer looked up wildly, as if he’d been caught snatching aphrodisiacs from Ozzie’s own stores.

       “Huh, wha? What’s new?” He laughed off the embarrassment, re-taking his seat.

Asmodeous sipped from his teacup, clocking the many idiosyncrasies Lucifer displayed.

       He was flustered, still gripping the phone between his claws, and had perched on the edge of his seat so that he could bounce a leg against the ground. 

“Love songs aren’t your usual style, babe.” The Prince spoke casually, but his eyes were bright.

It was delightful to see Lucifer stiffen as soon as he realized what his companion referred to. One of the best about the short King was how easy he was to tease, if you asked the Embodiment of Lust himself. 

        “Didn’t know you were finally getting out there, Louie.” Ozzie teased. “Were you gonna keep it a secret? Even from me?”

“Oh n— out there? Me?! Ha! No!” Lucifer shook his hand fiercely. “I’m not — it’s not like that! We’re not dating! I mean, some might see it like that but a lot of others wouldn’t! She wouldn’t… probably!  It’s, ya see, actually — I — ahem, ah…” 

His embarrassment grew into something stranger, more conflicted and melancholy. The teasing smirk on Asmodeus’s face flattened. 

“It’s complicated.” He finished, looking down at his phone as if it were the sole reason for his sudden misery. 

Ozzie wasn't soft on many (in fact he’d argue that being hard was his speciality) but his brother was one of the few. 

The much larger Sin rested a hand against Lucifer’s back. “You wanna talk about it?”

—

The days that followed blurred together, monotony of aches and pains broken only by an insatiable libido. It was as if the promise of sex after this, however unfulfilling it might be, was the only thing keeping you alive. 

Lucifer’s bizarre consideration held up over that time, surprising you enough that when it was time to give him a ring, you weren’t as dread-filled as you could’ve been. 

        He did, however, arrive in your home via furnace suspiciously quickly upon making contact with you again. His normally pristine suit and and impeccably coiffed hair were ruffled and singed, like he’d made a mad dash to get to you. 

“Hell-Oh!” Lucifer had practically squeaked as you dragged him out by the lapels. 

You’re so pent up that it’s hardly a surprise when you find yourself sitting on his lap, having manhandled the short King onto your couch. 

His cold, smooth skin was still alien, but you powered through the initial aversion to chase after that zing that came with kissing him. It was addictive, even with the fear of being cut by his sharp teeth in the back of your mind. 

Despite yourself, you took a second to break away and breathe. 

Beneath you, Lucifer was positively flushed. His shiny, wet lips were parted in wordless awe, and eyes glazed over in his daze. 

“Fuck.” He croaked. 

You smirked, gripping onto the blond hair that had already been mussed and abused by overeager hands. Pointedly, you slid back and forth on his trembling lap. There was no way to ignore the hardness at his inner thigh. 

—

The first drag of his cock against your walls made you shudder, arching as your head fell back. 

Lucifer whined in his seat, claws digging into the plush of your thighs. The pain heightened the feeling of being stabbed twice, making your lower belly tremble. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fffffff —” His cries were so good, you couldn’t stop from grinding down onto him. “You feel so good. So. Good. You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart. I can't.”

“That’s ok.” You slurred, hands coming up to wrap loosely around his neck. “We can work on that.” 

Lucifer opened his mouth, but you were already planting kisses against the corner of lips mouth, his cherry-spotted cheeks, the line of his jaw and the pulse beneath his ear.

—

Your hands were focused on exploring the planes of Lucifer’s chest and shoulders. He wasn’t muscular — or tall, obviously, but the lithe body intertwined with yours was more than easy on the eyes. 

“You can touch.” It was hardly fair that yours were the only hands busy. The ruler of Hell was flat beneath you, artificial light from your bedroom lamp casting shadows on his marble chest. 

Lucifer’s mulberry-dappled lids remained low, highlighting the yellow glow of his eyes. His claws slid up your hips, reverently tracing your frame as you bounced lightly. 

“If you insist, princess.” 

He was more coy after the first few rounds, an easier grin sliding across his face. The trembling touches against your breasts spoke of the still-nervous creature you’d first been introduced to.

—

Daylight was waning again when you found knelt, back pressed against Lucifer’s chest. He fucked into you wildly, teeth pressed into your bare shoulder. 

The thought of him biting into you didn’t sound so frightful anymore. In fact the image set butterflies off in your stomach. 

That and the way he held you close, wrapped vice-like around you like a boa constrictor. 

“No baby, don’t go yet!” When you squirmed, Lucifer nuzzled into the side of your neck, breathing heavy. “Just like this. Please, baby.”

He pleaded into your neck, grip tightening to where you couldn’t breathe. 

— 

“Here.” You guided his hand, settling it between your legs. 

Lucifer’s thrusts had grown shallow and uneven, but hadn’t quite stopped. He seemed entranced, watching as you positioned his thumb over the bundle of nerves just above where you two were joined. 

“Gently. Watch your claws.” You murmured along with your hands-on teaching. 

When you felt he’d gotten the message, you sighed and concentrated on the circular motion against your clit. Lucifer remained attentive, moving clockwise as the pace he’d started before picked up again. 

In moments you tensed, pleasure sparking along your pubic bone. It built up as your eyes closed, head tipped back as you let yourself enjoy the pressure both inside and out. Your hips jerked upward of their own accord, core trembling and cunt spasming. 

Your partner whimpered at the new intensity, which only egged you on. Before you knew it, you two were rocking into a chaotic rhythm. 

With slit eyes, you saw Lucifer looking down at you, flustered yet rapt over your every little response.

“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly. 

You nodded. “Mm-hm.”

It was difficult. You could feel the tension in your belly contracting, the heat and pressure building against your clit. The feeling was mounting to where you couldn’t help your keens, your moans, your whimpers. 

It ended with a choked sigh. You arched from the bed, head falling back as you let your legs tremble and shake around him. The convulsions pulled the Devil in deeper, and the feel of him was enough to make your eyes roll back in your skull beneath fluttering eyelids. Another gush came at the thought of being so full you could feel it in your stomach. 

          Lucifer watched. His face was nearly as red as the apple that adorned his hat, knocked off of your bedside table. He had the expression of someone seeing a falling star for the first time. Stunned, eyes gleaming, unable to comprehend something despite how beautiful it was.  

The former Angel lowered himself to capture your mouth with his own. He pressed luxuriant kisses to your lips, all while his hips stuttered between your thighs until he was humping into you, refusing to separate skin from skin. 

His release was coupled with a heated groan, muffled by the slide of your tongue against his. You were glowing inside out, warmth blooming in your core as you held onto Lucifer tightly. 

— 

The woman had invited you up into her tree. It was a different tree from the last, not bearing any fruit but lush with green needles and strong boughs that wouldn’t break. 

She looks over her shoulder at you cheekily. “Aren’t you glad you decided to join me?”

You playfully scoff and roll your eyes. “You don’t need to be so smug about it.” 

“Oh I think I do.” The blonde tilted in your direction, arms coming to wrap around you. “I won.”

You stay that way, watching the nettles shake in the passing breeze. 

“Everyone loves a winner.” She says at your side.

You frown. “I love you no matter what.” 

The woman sighs. 

“You might not always.” 

—

Light humming woke you from your doze, along with the repeated motion of something against your cheek. 

It wasn’t until you’d opened your eyes that you realized it was Lucifer humming and caressing your cheek tenderly. He was nose(less) to nose with you, seemingly admiring your face slackened with sleep. 

“What’s that from?” You rasped. 

“Hmm?” The King stroked an errant hair behind your ear. 

“It’s a movie.” You continued, repeating the notes in your head. “Right? It’s from a musical…”

“You like musicals?” Lucifer asked, seemingly surprised. Fangs poked out of his close-lipped smile, and he looked goofier than ever before. 

You copied him, helpless to how silly he made everything. “What’s not to like?”

The lightbulb went off. “Oh! Cabaret. That’s where it’s from.” 

“Yeah!” Lucifer moved even closer, the flat of his face pressing against your nose as he nuzzled you for guessing the right answer. “It’s kinda old, isn’t it? How’d you guess?”

“Psh, you think my threshold for pop culture is only as long as the last ten years?” You teased, arm skating down his side so that you could pinch his behind. 

“Hey!”

***

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan,

Please let me know I missed tagging you!

[sewinrat]

Yk the older sis hcs u did ??

Well i was wondering if u could write an kind of "what if" scenario where instead of luther waking up so damn late and stopping robert from getting killed what if instead she woke up and stopped ANY of the rats from getting killed and kept them as pets and started absolutely spoiling the ratmen

How would the rats and the other ivories react to this? :3

Awe this would be so cute if you ignore the fact that she is technically capable of watching them suffer in pain but she won't.

You hear a baam from outside your bedroom and sigh out, "Oh dear..." Standing up from your desk and stopping you from whatever you were doing, you went out of your bedroom. Walking down one of the hallway where the noise was coming from, you were met with Nyen cleaning out the inside of a ratman. Your nose scrunched up in displeasure and took out a spray bottle. "Nyen," you called out. Said cat flinched at the sound of your voice and turn around hesitantly.

Approaching him with the bottle in hand as he slowly backs away. Holding up the spray bottle you asked, "What did I tell you about murdering pests inside the halls?" You spray him. He hissed and his ears lowered either from distaste and mad. However he's not mad at you, he's mad at himself for not cleaning it faster. "Now shoo. I have things to deal with." He doesn't want to but he has no choice to obey so he went away grumbling.

After making sure he's gone, you then crouched down in front of the dead ratman, "Oh, you poor thing.. I'll fix you right up." You took his body in your arms, and bring him to your room where you'll be fixing all of his organs. Once you're done, you put something of yours on him to let everyone know that he now belongs under your name. You put him in a big enough cage so he'll recover safe for a while. But for now, you have somewhere to be. Sensing another chaos happening near the kitchen, off you go quickly before another one dies of Nyen. Sighing, you shook your head as you're walking at fast speed mumbling, "I know that Luther is stressed but doesn't mean that I'm not stressed from you murdering all these rats..."

Arriving in a dark room, you menacingly called out at the cat in front of you that is strangling another rat but this time with three eyes, "Nyen." Nyen immediately dropped the rat. Looks like he has learned his lesson on the last rat but that doesn't mean he's stopping. It was cat instincts. "Have you not learned?" You took out the spray bottle once again, "Bad kitty." You spray him as you uttered the words he doesn't like to hear. "Now go back to your bed," you pointed to somewhere that is not near your location or the kitchen. Nyen begrudgingly left, not wanting to push your limits. He knows how badly your punishments are so he's not wanting to experience it, ever.

After he left, you straightened your blouse and skirt, "Now, where was I...? Ah yes, the rat." Sharply turning towards the three-eyed rat who flinched, you pick him up from his collar like he was a cat... Ironic. "Stay still. This wouldn't hurt a bit," you imprinted your mark on him and now he's part of your pets. You let go of his collar, "From now on, you belong under my name, got it?" To which he nods rapidly, probably relief to not die. You walk off with nothing else to say. The ratman hesitates in following you but figured he'd try because technically he belongs to you so he's safe right?

You found Nyon on the ground and help him off the ground, dusting anything off. "Nyon, I'm gonna need you to find one of the rats and bring them to me. Use force, okay dearie?" Nyon trembles a bit but nodded obedient. You pat his head and send him off to find one of the rat.

In one of the kitchen you saw Randal and his pet accompanied with another scared ratman, this time in a sailor outfit. Calling out, "Randal dear! Would you be so kind to bring that rat to me?" Said creature perked up at the sound of your voice, you can hear him excitedly say sure and immediately dragged the - squirming - rat to you. The three-eyed rat behind you, hides his body using your figure from behind. "Good boy, Randal. I'll reward you later but now I need to do this," You put your mark on the squirming rat, to which he struggles more - not understanding what's happening. You sighed and told Randal to hold the sailor outfit rat down and to sit down while you search for the others. Randal nods eagerly and drag both Sebastian and hold the rat tightly in his hold. The three-eyed rat sweat dropped but doesn't make a comment in order to not trigger the happy boy with glasses.

It didn't take long to find another one. You found a rat with a crying eye hiding and you grab the hand that holds a weapon and took it away, "You should know better that I know every part of the house. Now be a good boy and stay still." He didn't however and instead continue to struggle. This makes you irritated but you managed to stay calm and took out a tranquilliser. You put the dart in his neck, and slowly he started to cease his squirming, making it easier to put your mark on him. Bringing him to Randal to also hold the 'crying' rat down in case he wakes up.

That leaves one more rat, you thought. It might take long because Nyon isn't physically capable in comparison to Nyen but he can manage. Looking over at Randal rambling to your rats with Sebastian looking pitifully at the three of them. You figured that you can cook for the family. Standing up and grabbing your apron, you get started. Making a perfect portion of food for your family while making a slightly larger portion for your rats.

It took a while but Nyon came back with an aggressive ratman that's wearing circular glasses who's trying to attack Nyon even if technically he's weaker. "Good boy, Nyon," petting the Nyon who enjoyed the pats that can make Nyen jealous, you grabbed the newest rat addition by the collar and immediately put your mark on it. "Oh! Before I forget," you snap your fingers and Jeff showed up with the ratman with a long nose from it's containment in his hold. Jeff put the ratman down on one of the chairs upright. "Thank you Jeff, you can go now," snapping your fingers once more and Jeff is gone.

"Now, all of you ratmen are now under my name. That means you can stop stealing our food. All of you better sit down and eat, okay?" With the threat lacing the last word, all the rats scrambled to take a sit at the table while Randal is just excitedly rambling to everyone about how good your cooking is. "Nyon, go get Nyen and interrupt my brother's sleeping. I'm sure he'll be needing my food when he sees the mess," you can see Nyon nods and leave the room as you put out the dishes to everyone present.

Soon, Nyon came back with Nyen and your brother, Luther who almost fainted at the sight of the ratmen before you explained that they now belong under your name. To which, he has no choice but to accept it. So they all joined in on dinner. Although the ratmen are hesitant on eating because they thought it might be a trick to poison them. All of them seem to also glance at each other, especially at the 'crying' ratman. However to no viewer's surprise, the one to eat it first is the rat wearing the sailor outfit who complain about being too hungry to care. Seeing as he's not dropped dead, they all then eat it slowly besides the sailor ratman. They were so cute so you gave each of them a pat on the head, some even lean into it. Slowly but surely they accept everything that's happening.

Randal whined out about wanting a head pat too since he helped in keeping them in check! Sebastian would rather not have you touch him but he can't have a say in it or anything for that matter. Luther can't say he doesn't mind you starting to like the ratmen but he can't stop you. However, he will try to cut the time if you are spending more time with them than your family. After all, family is important♡

Nyen is seething. He doesn't like that the ratmen are now part of the family. While he won't kill them, in front of you that is, he'll torture them more than with Nyon. Speaking of, Nyon is just there. He doesn't mind and he doesn't question your decisions. Plus, he might have a friend in the house with one of the ratmen.

In the end, all of you enjoyed the food you made. The company however? That's 50/50.

[fruitcoops]

The Moon That Breaks the Night

Day 8: throwin' it back to the beginning. Characters from @lumosinlove's Sweater Weather, header from @noots-fic-fests <3

Yesterday's movie (as was so correctly guessed!!!): Scooby-Doo! Also, talitasami on Instagram literally drew the Marauders as the Scooby Gang on the 18th and somehow I missed it??? It's brilliant, go check it out!

The wolf was hungry, and the woods were stocked full.

He kept his nose low for traces of rabbit. Those never bored him. They were quick and vicious, always ready to leap into some new strange place or nip at his snout. Their strong back legs had battered him about the ears and eyes many times.

He could smell squirrel on the wind. Dull. Loud. Always scrambling up into the trees where he couldn’t reach for risk of splinters in his paws.

Hungry, hungry, searching.

Cedar and pine eased his way down the ridge, cautious steps muffled to nothingness. He rested his weight back and slid the last few feet in a spray of red-brown leaves. The wolf licked his lips, pleased, and shook himself free of debris. Fun fun fun fun fun. His tail thumped despite himself.

The forest was calm and cool this far into the night. His ear was itchy, but not so bad he had to stop as he trotted past the river. The lake would be sweet with late autumn. His journey was making him thirsty. He may even be able to catch a fish in the shallows, one of the darting ones with silver scales.

The howl of another whispered over the foothills and he sneezed. Ah, well. That limited his range, but he would survive. There was plenty hidden in the burrows and bushes of his own territory, and few who would challenge him for it. He trotted on.

Full moon tonight, loup. Fish-silver light lanced through the sparse canopy; Sirius’ voice buzzed in his head, in the soft space between his ears. The wolf shook himself again. He knew no people, just the dog and the antlered thing that played chase and tug and hide. Hungry. Would they be hungry? Had they gone away?

Loup. That was him. The voice was affectionate and low—it made the wolf want to stretch from his toes to his tail, to lean into the scritches behind his ears and whine until he was allowed to kiss kiss kiss the fondness that smelled like winter ice. The thought made him yawn happily as he moved toward the slope of the lake’s eastern bank. A friend would be good. Even the poor doomed rabbits would become wearisome if he remained like this.

The moon murmured to him through mouthfuls of cold, clear water. He drank deep, and listened. She had kind things to say to him most of the time. He missed his friend, with his thick black fur and lolling tongue. He missed the tall beast, whose antlers he was permitted to gnaw on as long as he was gentle when they napped near the end of the night. The little one was still too small to play on his spindle-legs.

He didn’t like to be alone out here. The other wolf was snuffling on the other side of the hills, too close, turning his stomach. His bones hurt. The moon couldn’t save him.

He would fight if he was caught, kick and scream and howl and bite. They would try to drag him back but he would clutch the boards with bloody hands and he would not lose his hold again. He would not leave the ice they could not take him from it. He had fought too hard to get it back. Teeth and claws, crimson and ivory. This time, they would bear witness. This time, they would understand.

A bark.

Bright, like the north star.

Close, closer than the other wolf, who would not touch him with the dog near.

Moony turned toward it and took off running.

[mitsuki91]

Okay, just so you all know, daddy!Coryo live now in my mind permanently, and of course the only reasonable thing to do is set him free by writing something...

I will share one little wip I wrote in my tiny lunch break:

Coriolanus dropped another piece of meat with the classic clang and watched the hybrid devour it. 1.57 seconds. A new record.

"Tell me," replied the professor, his tone neutral to mask his irritation, "What should I do?"

He heard Dr Gaul's clang.

"I have decided that your little songbird will sing at the opening ceremony of the next Games. You remember, don't you? Lucy Gray Baird."

Coriolanus' heart lost a beat.

Determined not to show any emotion, he slammed his tongs back into the funnel. Clang.

She won't find her, he was thinking, frantic, trying not to panic.

She won't find her, and so…

"The girl is already on her way, with all her family," something detached itself inside him, like a piece of floating soul as he struggled to carry on his mechanical gestures. Another piece of flesh. Another clang. The stopwatch. 2.17 seconds. "I thought, as her former Mentor, you were the right person to host the Coveys... And convince your little Lucy Gray to play and sing for us in early July." 

She found her.

His heart was beating furiously in his chest. Clang. 2.54 seconds.

She found her.

When did she return?

"... With a smile on her face, possibly. Accompanied by her family so that the world can see how much a Victor is able to enjoy life, after being pardoned from Panem” 

She's bringing her to me.

Lucy Gray... To his house? With the Coveys? Little Maude Ivory... CC... Tam Amber? Barb Azure?

Oh god.

If she was back... What had she told the others?!

Would they hate him, all of them?

And he was supposed to convince her to sing for Panem? With a smile on her face?

Another clang. His mind raced in circles, and Coriolanus had to force himself to maintain a neutral expression, to carry out his task, to feign indifference...

Could this have been a second chance?

"Ah, there's one small detail," Dr Gaul continued, indifferent to his inner screams, "I don't think it will be a problem for you, however it's better that the public doesn't know... You see, as a matter of reputation."

"What?" asked Coriolanus, his tone always neutral.

Clang. That ugly rat face again. 1.97 seconds.

"Your songbird had a baby," replied Dr Gaul, tone as always sing-songy. Coriolanus stopped with the tongs in midair, rigid. Had he understood correctly?! “It's not good for Capitol City to be aware of the... Poor composure of the people of the Districts. Beasts that mate without even waiting until they come of age…”

Coriolanus felt himself rocking and had to appeal to every last ounce of self-control to remain upright and still. Not to be seen. Not to collapse.

Lucy Gray, with a child?

Lucy Gray... Lucy Gray with...?

"... Are you all right, Mr Snow?"

Coriolanus widened his smile and beat the tongs into the funnel with a loud clang. He took the time. 2.80 seconds.

"Well, I'll be getting baby items," he replied, posed and courteous and light as ever.

Inside, he was filled with fury.

Who dared?!

Let me know if you are curious 😂😂

[mowbrayvongothe]

Late live episode due to me panic baking!

The Magnus Protocol - 29 Keyed in spoilers below.

Oh Sam is alive that’s nice poor Celia for tripping over her.

Samama “it was a Bentley” Khalid.

It was searching for something? It wanted information about the Institute.

Do you think that ERROR was what the old man was creating?

God this is traumatising for Sam.

Celia I need you so bad you don’t understand.

Ah the ladies are arguing love that.

CHESTER. FUCK.

missing Norris

Hm Homicide. Wonder what that’s about

Currently sat on the floor behind the door to really create the desperate atmosphere ( art shit is all over my bed)

Yeah how does this turn into a homicide sweetheart?

Oh they’re old and inlove. How is there murder.

The music. Oh nice new words

“Odemknout své srdce”

Sigh this is a code isn’t it.

DID SHE KILL HIM.

The key to the lock?

Nevermind lock gone.

“Unlock your heart” I see.

Hm Chester so much passion and character in Open. This is a damn journal.

Ah the wooden door has the key.

My brownies are nearly ready damn.

Lock room? It’s the lock museum why am I confused.

Strange -> Simple.

Aha. Why is there the noise of moving a locked handle ahaha what.

Sharp lock with blood nice

Their lock was in the Lock Museum. And the simple one was bloody. Hm

Picked up the lock and then obviously everything went to hell.

Oh so they translated it.

Oh so to get out is to kill the other.

‘Unlock your heart’ meaning to kill your loved one to escape.

Oh so he just died from slipping.

Oh!

No he begged for help.

The fear here was their death. And using their love to seal both their fates. Nothing really to guess.

The key unlocks anything after they sacrificed their love. She believes it can remove her grief.

FUCK

Brownies are ready :3

Oh Chester is losing the Jon-ness

When she killed Stanley her love for him left as she unlocked her love. Sweet

ALICEEEEEEEEE MY LOVE

TEDDY OH MY GODDD TEDDYDYYYYYYYY

Oh

Worm?

His new job???

What is it???

ALICE DYER YOU AAAAAAAA

wh

Oh Sam

For fucks sake Sam

Alice dyer the woman you are

Teddy yk we love you dearly

ALICE DYER THE WOMAN YOU ARE

ALICE

“I can’t let you pass without a ticket :|”

ALICE

ALICE MY LOVE

Alice what’s going on

Alice dyer

ALICE

WHAT THE FUCK

WH

WHATS

NO

ERROR DID YOU NOT PAU FOR A TICKET WHAT THE FUCK

ERROR. oh that’s it’s. NICE!

Well time to get my burning brownies

Hm.

So those were some episodes

My brownies didn’t burn they were still gooey after 30 minutes in the oven which is nice (not)

So Sam passed out the prior episode and survived which we all can yippie at that. Passing out and having no control of your body is very traumatising and for Sam to instantly panic and decide that dealing with ERROR was his priority is. Concerning. But god he is going to do the exact same thing as Jonathan. Celia not wanting for him to go alone but while also hating the idea of even entertaining ERROR at all seems like an accurate response. I feel like people experiencing the horrors together feels more relevant in this rather than TMA but still all the inescapable horrors happen alone anyways. I had something i was meant to add one but ill mention it in another post

The case the case the case. Chester read it thanks Jonathan for that. Two old lovers went to their most important place of travel where Stan proposed and they had locked their love on the bridge. They then went into a ‘Lock Museum’ and gained an ivory key and looked at all the locks there. A saying was found Unlock your love which referenced the act of killing your lover and setting your love for them go to escape. We can assume she didn’t love him after escaping as she said she “wouldn’t miss him”. Nothing too alchemy themed here really and it was just a case about two lovers who had to sacrifice the other to escape the horrors oh it’s Jmart again of fucking course. No words after that fuck you Chester. Bring back Norris 2024.

Alice my love you care so so much you have such a big heart and you’re such a little shit. Nothing wrong with Alice truly. Alice seems slightly bitter about Sam’s new adventures in the OIAR, enough to express it to Teddy who HAS MYSTERIES OF HIS OWN???? What’s up with his new job is it like tha Magnus institute from the hit podcast The Magnus Archives????? Whats that about Teddy boy what’s going on. But realistically I’m assuming he’s having trouble keeping a job after leaving the OIAR. I wonder if it has to do with the horrors that lurk. Maybe he’s having troubles in his jobs so he has to turn to the OIAR? Would make sense. Also Dammit Alice truly cares she heard Sam was going on that train and decided to really leave her lovely pint. and last but not least ERROR IS ON THE TRAIN????????? Either a) Error paid a very, very expensive ticket. Or b) jumped the metro like a boss. Either way, way to go Error way to go.

Now after an hour of listening taking a break and screaming online my brownies are still NOT DONE!!!!!!

[viacursecasting]

Boundaries.

An Arte X Ivy Drabble

Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in."

Arte opened the door to the arachnid's chambers, greeted by the sight of moonbeams illuminating her porcelain muzzle just before she put on her mask. "You know you don't have to wear that around me," the immune feline reminded her.

"Oh," Ivy realized, removing it. "Force of habit."

Arte then added, "By all means, do whatever makes you comfortable. I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright," Ivy assured. "I'm... comfortable around you." Although it was true, it was such a foreign feeling. To be unbridled by the shackles of her illness.

Arte felt fluttery in his chest, though he quickly batted it away by clearing his throat. "So how are you feeling? Ever since I... you know..."

From the way his ears folded back, Ivy could tell the cryokinetic was feeling guilty for her mild case of frostbite. "Kingsley, it wasn't your fault."

"I know you think that," Arte began, clenching his fists, "but if anything serious happened to you because of me, I would never forgive myself."

Amused, Ivy shook her head. "Risking my life for the sake of yours is quite literally my job."

"I suppose..." Arte stared at his hands as if they betrayed him. "I'm just afraid of hurting you again."

Ivy felt a pang in her chest. Such cruel irony. The one person she could touch... couldn't touch her.

But perhaps...

She contemplated before suggesting, "Would you like to propose a time limit for physical contact?"

Arte raised his head, intrigued. "I think I'd like that."

Ivy recalled, "I believe I was affected after fifteen minutes, so shall we say ten?"

Arte hesitated. "I don't want to risk that. Not yet at least." He countered, "Can we start with five?"

"Sure," Ivy responded. "Five minutes it is."

Arte sighed in relief. Setting this boundary was something he didn't know he needed. It felt good to have the weight of the world off his shoulders.

Then Ivy took a bold step forward. "Shall we put it to the test?"

Arte tinted. "Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't suggest it if I weren't."

He took a deep breath. "Okay then..."

Giving the spider one last chance to change her mind, he offered his palm. To his surprise, she took it. He kept his touch as light as powdered snow as he brought her digits to his lips, giving them a peck.

Ivy averted her gaze in a poor attempt to hide her rosiness. "You don't have to treat me like some delicate—ah!"

The feline swiftly drew her in to lock his arms around her petite frame. He felt her stiffen, knowing she was unfamiliar to embraces, but he eventually felt her relax and return the hug. She clutched him tightly, taking advantage of the opportunity to hold someone. This coaxed him to bury his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her flowery scent.

He spoke against her ivory skin, his cool breath making her shiver, "I missed you."

Despite the chill, Ivy felt warm. "You did?"

Arte chuckled. "Of course. I missed your gaze. Your voice. Even your stubbornness."

Ivy flushed. "What am I supposed to say when you tell me such things?"

Arte drew his head back to face her, brushing her soft bangs aside to view her radiant ambers. "Nothing. Just let me savor you." He was about to lean in, then halted upon seeing her burning cheeks. "Sorry, was that too forward?"

Ivy shook her head, making an effort to steady her racing pulse.

Relieved, Arte leaned in to kiss her, their lips dancing their familiar waltz, their heartbeats harmonizing like the chorus of a love song.

[unchataparis]

Danse du Diamant Masqué

Liladrien Week 2024 | Day Five: Incognito

Béyonce asked the most socially relevant question of their generation: what’s worse? Looking jealous or crazy?

Of course, Queen Bey doesn’t really have a leg to stand on taking Jay-Z back after making all that fuss about his cheating, it doesn’t really teach him a lesson, no? In Lila’s experience, people don’t learn unless they’re punished or suffers some kind of retribution for their crimes. Even the kindest, most well-intentioned people still fuck up when they’re not taught properly, and who can blame them? We’re social creatures, bred to survive in societies, and how can we learn if our society continues to accept us again and again no matter what we do?

Men have it so easy. They can do whatever they want, break however many hearts, dispose of however many girls, and their statuses as mummy and daddy’s shiny perfect example of human perfection will never fade. Men can do whatever they want to their wives as long as they keep earning money, and everything will be seen as A-OK.

Paris’ Diamonds’ Dance is the most inane gala of its sort that Lila has seen. She had attended such events back in Milan and especially in the US – oh, those Americans were crazy about ostentatious displays of wealth –  except they called those what they were, jamborees and debutante balls, instead of this masquerade bullshit.

The venue is nice, Lila has to admit, and so is the catering. The techno-bass music is pushing it, through. What happened to good, ol’ classic Mozart?

White, as far as Lila can see, glossy marble tiles and reflective mirror ceilings and glittering ivory tables. Teenagers ranging from age twelve to eighteen meanderingand mingling on the monotonous disco dance floor, dressed in an array of blank couture.

The rule is that they could not represent brands, they cannot wear any shade apart from white. This is a serious , very important social occasion, after all, and not an opportunity to push the latest collection of whatever luxury fashion house they’re the brand ambassadors of. But that doesn’t prevent the attendees from showing up in the most outlandish garbs while following attire rules.

A girl ahead of Lila is dressed like a petunia flower, great big sails of ivory, crimp-edged fabric jutting from her rear and hips. Her friend whom she is talking to has a train nearly two metres long, flowing down her back like a cotton waterfall, which she has gathered up and is carrying in her arms after too many people had trodded on it by accident. Lila suspects that the decision was inspired by economic means as well as trying to prevent the foot-shaped stains from showing. A boy, who has tried to ask Lila to dance until she picked up his intentions and repelled him through the disdainful force of her glare alone, dons a top hat and a tailcoat, and is practising his pick-up artistry on two new victims. The most well-dressed person on the floor, in Lila’s opinion, is the man currently sampling from the buffet table, whose wool suit and iridescent coat are so uncomplicated as to be ethereal. But even he couldn’t compare to the King of the ball.

Ah – Lila feels like such a poor Cinderella, with none of the influence and the riches of her peers. Her dress isn’t haute couture, just a slinky, littlecream number she picked up from Ferragamo hours before the event and she did her own make-up.

An entire army of stylists and designers probably sweated over Tsurugi Kagami, her preparation probably started a week ago, with facials and massages and manicures, until she resembles a perfect scarlet icicle.

She sits there at the top of the podium in the ballroom, the only colour represented , a drop of blood in a glass of milk. Swathed in a scarlet kimono, her hair is pinned back by chrysanthemum pins and her lips are such a juicy cherry red, Lila would kiss them herself if Adrien doesn’t .

Adrien, right beside her, in an immaculate, tailored suit and satin tie. He appears almost simple, but of course when you look like Adrien Agreste, nothing is ever simple on you. They’re effortless, celestial, phenomenal. With golden hair and blond lashes the length of Lila’s badly-paintedfingernails and glass skin, Adrien could be twiddling his thumbs there in a white T-shirt for all anyone cares and he’ll still outshine the entire floor. 

FYI, the man with the wool suit and the iridescent coat is the best dressed. Not the best looking.

Read the rest on Ao3 here.

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 183 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: cutting the jasmine in my garden.

Wanna say right at the start of this episode, I loooove the soundscaping in this one! Especially the sounds during the dialogue scenes.

MARTIN:"Oh, bugger off!" JON: "Everything alright?" Ha, Jon's tone xD Like "Heh, I know what you're going to say".

JON: "It’s a building. A tower, in a sense." MARTIN: "Oh yeah? And what sense might that be?" JON: [Faintly ominous] "The Tarot sense." I thought the Ivory sense, but okay?

MARTIN: "Really?" JON: "What? No. Sorry, it… felt like a good line." MARTIN: "No, no, it was. I just… I dunno, I… you did the look and… It’s fine, sorry." Okay, Martin finally seems to get one of Jon's jokes, but I don't, can someone explain this to me? XD Like The Tower of the Major Arcana? What's up with "the look"? Anything specific or just Jon being a theater kid?

MARTIN: "What, what’s the deal, though? Parts of it almost look like –" JON: "The Institute." MARTIN: "Yeah." JON: "Yes. It makes sense. After all, it was built on the ruins of what Robert Smirke constructed." Also, like... The Magnus Institute was an academic institution. And this domain is about academia as far as I remember...?

HELEN: "I was so looking forward to catching up after that whole Basira and Daisy thing, but then pfft! You both disappear. I’d be very keen to know how you managed that little trick." MARTIN: "Why, it caught us by surprise too. I mean, w-we actually ended –" JON: [Firmly] "We found somewhere to rest. That’s all." MARTIN: "Oh, yeah. Ah. Yes." Hm, makes sense that Martin would tell her. With Helen per se he didn't really have any bad experiences yet (He did with Michael, but Helen is definitely different and that can draw a mental line, not seeing that it's actually still the same being). Jon on the other hand, oohohoho... He knows not to trust her.

JON: "She made her choice." HELEN: "With your assistance." JON: "It was still her choice." Ahhh, the choice and free will theme again!

JON: "Martin, I’d prefer we talk about this alone." HELEN: "Oh, I bet you would. You were probably just going to bypass it entirely, weren’t you? I can’t believe you would deny him the choice to see his own domain." MARTIN: "My… my wha– John, my what?" It's not Jon's fault they're being stalked by gaslight gatekeep girlboss all the time so she can show up and sprinkle some of her manipulation all over them, so they would start to argue. Good thing Jon and Martin are better than that. And technically, Martin should already have a strong suspicion he has a domain, they talked about it in MAG 167. Jon said they all have a domain and when Martin asked about his, Jon wanted to check in, if he really wants to know about it and Martin immediately declines. Being in denial of something or intentionally looking away doesn’t mean that that thing isn’t real.

Hm... This really took it out of Martin though. Normally he wants to talk things through, but now he rather has a moment to quietly think about it...

"The one who sits in the central chamber cannot remember his name. But he knows that people called him ‘doctor’. He made sure of that. To ignore it would have been the greatest disrespect and he will not be disrespected." Lol, is that poor soul Austrian? (There are sooo many memes about this here in Austria! They usually are titled "Tell me you're Austrian without telling me you're Austrian" and then it's someone with insanely many titles or absolutely stupid things with titles. For example doorbells on the outside of an apartment complex. There are no names, they are simply titled (ha) "Top 1" or "Top 2" and so forth. And then there is one with a small sticker in front of it so it reads " Dr. Top 5" xDD)

"This… wasn’t right. The first of the doors would lead him… Maybe that wasn’t the first of the doors. But it, it was, it was the first door. But that would mean… No, he, he was right, he was certain, he had factored in all the timings. This didn’t make sense." This has strong "My code isn't working... I have no idea why - My code is working... I have no idea why" vibes XD

That statement doesn't do much to me. Then again, I'm not an academic. My sister who has a PhD however says she totally feels this one.

JON: "Well, you’re a watcher, Martin. You worked for the Institute, you read statements. The Eye is… fond of you." This is super interesting. Cause this means, not every watcher out there is evil or a bad person like Jude, or Simon... So for the post-change-world this would be super interesting. (Oliver also seems chill to me, that's why I like him so much.)

MARTIN: "But I’m not an avatar." JON: [Heated] "Avatar isn’t a thing, Martin! It’s not– It’s just a word. A word used by… fools like Smirke to try and sort everything into neat little boxes, to reduce the messy spray of human fear into a checklist: Human, avatar, monster, victim." Love that we get this conversation, about how the world works, in a domain where this was the theme.

JON: "If you’re sure." MARTIN: "… I’m sure I love you." [FOOTSTEPS] JON: "I love you too." [FABRIC RUSTLES] Those two <3 (Ha! Better luck next time, Helen!!)

@a-mag-a-day

[thereaderarchive]

Ch.62: Unconditional

• for @drarrymicrofic prompt: unconditional (oct'22) | words: 470 | all chapters / prev / next

"Why? There must be a reason."

"Naturally," she says, moving a nonsensical piece that wouldn't change the outcome of the game. "I love him. But I can't give him everything that he wants, not with my sickness."

"So you'll risk your relationship with him."

"I don't understand the game. Intimacy is… different for me. Knowing he's happy, loved, fulfilled- it's worth risking something. Checkmate," her smile is sad while she stands, elegant robes moving with her. "I already won. The question is: will you help your best friend win too, Mr Granger-Weasley? I can't leave this world knowing the man I love will use me as an excuse for a life as a widower hiding in some ivory tower."

"Look - Does he really have an ivory tower?" She waves a dismissive hand, Ron supposes in the end every posh woman is similar to the other.

"How sick?"

"Cursed many generations before I was born."

"Have you asked for guidance in the Department of Mysteries? They take on cases like that… I've heard."

"Half my family are Unspeakables, they've done all they can. May I call you Ronald?"

"Ron's fine."

"Ron, I am grateful for the time we had. I know Mr Potter won't forgive me, but I've been extremely happy during the time I've borrowed Draco. He deserves sharing his life with someone he loves… and who I think loves him back as much as I do."

She does look paler than before, thinner too. Ron should use this opportunity to part ways with everything Malfoy-related, Harry had suffered enough… the thing is, Harry had also never been happier.

"McLaggen wants to propose."

"Oh, that's preposterous. He dated my sister, did you know that? He was nasty and incredibly boring, always yapping about the international games he watched on the weekends as if not all of us did that."

"Ah yes, the international games we all went to every weekend while growing up," he says rolling his eyes.

"My apologies." Ron simply shrugs, it's never been a secret that the Weasleys were poor or that even now, he still dislikes posh gits. McLaggen and Draco included. Astoria's on thin ice. "But he is foul, you must believe me!"

"Look, I don't like him more than I did when the slimy git tried to kiss the mother of my child," she gasps, a delicate hand covering her mouth. "Well, we were 16 at the time and not together- but you get the idea."

She snorts a little mousy sound. "Do we have a deal?"

He hesitates for a moment…the question is, what's best for Harry, really, that's all he cares about. He nods.

"So… when did he try to kiss her?" She asks, sitting again, ready to hear a story.

"At the Slug Club Christmas party."

"Oh, dear, how gauche."

[tgarnsl]

if you're still doing the wip ask game, could you tell us a little about 'necro' and 'woods'? :3

‘necro’ is a joke title for the less catchy title of Putting the Romance Back into Necromancy. tl;dr (too long; didn’t write): Ewen stops Keith from fully dying, but brings him back in a half-alive form that, despite Ewen’s best efforts, is still dying (though not in a body horror way. more in a ‘time is running out’ way.)

‘woods’ is the one you’ve seen before, which is kind of a blend of folk ballads and heavily influenced by The Decembrists’ Hazards of Love album. essentially, vaguely Tam Lin but with some additional elements. warnings for mentions of suicide attempt (fairly non-explicit.)

necromancy:

“Your friend will die,” said Archie quietly but firmly, as Ewen shut the door to Keith’s bedchamber behind him. “The spell you wove to draw his mind back to his body was not enough. For whatever reason, his soul remains trapped on the border between life and death, neither quite one nor the other.” He shook his head. “It is a black art, Eoghain, to stop a man’s natural death in this way: such things are proscribed for a reason. I cannot imagine what drove you to such lengths.”

Ewen could give him no answer, for the truth was so simple as to be absurd. He had stayed Keith’s death for no better cause than that of his fear of losing yet another he loved. A stupid, selfish fear, and one that Keith now paid the price for.

woods:

You return to me at last, whispered a voice as smooth as water into Keith’s ear. My wayward child.

“I have come to ask a boon, Mother,” said Keith.

Speak.

“I have done as you asked. I served as a soldier of the King and brought victory to his kingdom.”

And in exchange, I gave you the form of a man to wear. Would you ask more of me yet?

Between the trees, the figure of a regally tall woman emerged, as pale and glowing as the moon.

“It is not for my sake that I ask this of you,” said Keith. His mother paused before the tallest of the standing stones and looked at him, her gaze piercing.

No, she said. Her lips did not move as she spoke. It is for his sake. And Keith saw in the black depths of the stone, as vividly as though it were before him, a vision of Ewen Cameron, lying curled on his side beneath the roots of a great oak, just as Keith had left him. His face was ashen, and he shivered a little in the cold, but he did not stir as thin roots pushed their way free of the soil and wrapped themselves around his legs and body.

He is dying.

“Yes,” said Keith, his nails digging into his palm. “Can you heal him?” The roots tightened around Ewen’s injured arm, and Keith watched as Ewen's face twisted in agony. “Mother—”

I can heal him. But I would ask a boon in return. Her beautiful face was blank.

Keith bowed his head. “Anything,” he said. “My life, my body…”

Give him to me, so that I might do with him what I will.

Ice gripped Keith’s heart. “No, no,” he stammered. “Ask me for anything but this, please.”

He will die.

Keith met her night-black eyes. “But he is my true love,” he said. A pathetic, weak excuse, but it was the truth.

Ah, my poor child, said his mother, a smile spreading across her face like a rift opening in the earth. You forget yourself too easily. She moved towards him, the dead leaves of the forest floor muffling her steps. Would you like to remember? She waved her hand, and Keith saw before him the life that had once been his. He saw the great oak, where beneath a canopy thick and green with new life, a young soldier, who knew little of affection, awkwardly and with great sincerity swore pledges of love and fidelity to a woman with hair the colour of sunlight. Too late, he remembered.

“No,” he murmured, but it was not enough to stem the tide of memory. He saw the woman again, smelled her powder and perfume, heard her high, lying voice and the snap of ivory as she broke her fan, frustrated that he would not respond to her. He listened to nothing of what she had to say; he would not even look at her. He stood already beneath the great oak, a length of rope in his hand.

It should have been a good end, a clean end. But the branch had been rotten, and he had fallen. And there he lay, at the foot of the great tree, as a silver woman bent over him and promised that in exchange for his memories and service, he would live. He could not refuse her.

[yourgildedcage]

"The World of Another Who Looks like You"

Chapter 1: That boy Who Mirrors Malleus

Lilia was admiring the scenery on a walk through the botanical gardens. True he saw this scenery often and it was really nothing new, especially since he was a third year at the Night Raven College. But the thought that counts, as they say. It was fun to watch the multiple plants and flowers, and to a degree any students that maybe relaxing and enjoying the silence. No doubt Kingscholar would be here soon as a attempt to escape actually attending class. Then he would be found and forced to go. Lilia decided he might as well head to his own last class of the day but something stopped him.

He paused.

That boy.

He looked a awful lot like...

Lilia approached the sleeping boy who looked all too much like his so-- ahem prince Malleus. Lilia blinked in disbelief as he neared the long slender form of a near carbon copy of Malleus. The boy did not give off any magic, similar to that Yuu of Ramshackle dorm. And what's more he lacked any signature Draconian or fae features. No faintly visible scales, no pointy ears and certainly no horns.

Lilia blinked slowly.

They weren't making body double potions today and even so how would at strange looking version of Malleus be possible? Was he real? Lilia poked the doppelganger's side his lip curling into a smile when the boy knit his eyebrows together and curled up as if that would protect him from Lilia's nimble little hands no doubt the boy was ticklish in all the same places as the real Malleus. Lilia stopped smiling as he realized the boy was in fact real and a lot more identical to Malleus than just his physical appearance.

Lilia regarded the boy's clothing; his crimson red shirt, the black pants tucked into the ivory white combat boots. The green black and white jacket reminding him of the one Malleus wore for his birthday. Instead of being decorated with things related to Malleus or the Diasomnia dorm, one sleeve had "M. D." probably the initials for "Malleus Draconia" in gold embroidery. On the back of his jacket was the words "Everyone please hold your applause" in thick white letters. Lilia absently wondered who was in charge of his wardrobe, but it did not matter.

Reaching in the right pocket he found a wallet and a phone with a forest green case.

In the wallet was a library card, a public transportation card, a driver's permit, and three light green rectangular pieces of paper with the numbers 10, 20, and 50 in all four corners on both sides. Aside from that were some coins that shined and had weight but didn't make sense to Lilia. It was obvious they were some form of money, but they certainly weren't madol.

Reading the neat handwriting on two of the cards that was exactly like Malleus', the boy was indeed Malleus Draconia. Shoving all the contents back into the wallet and back into his pocket Lilia pulled the boy up and with a sigh teleported to the Hall of Mirrors.

It was going to be a long day.

Lilia quickly stepped through the Diasomnia mirror struggling a little to carry the boy who was taller and heavier than himself. Lucky for the Malleus doppelganger he remained asleep. Or perhaps unconscious..?

At any rate the other students will be back from class soon, and that included Silver, Sebek, and Malleus. Dropping the unconscious boy rather unceremoniously onto the bed in Malleus' room, Lilia idly pondered if he should make a sort of truth potion; if this person was trying (and failing) to impersonate Malleus.

He still had to protect Malleus after all.

But... what if he left the room and the boy woke up..?

Ah that would complicate things... Because if he was right, there would be two of the same person.

Still he was almost curious. How different and how similar were the two?

He thought it best to keep watch... Oh the boy most likely will have missed lunch. The poor thing will be hungry. Luckily Lilia new the perfect meal to prepare that would undoubtedly be ready by the time he woke up. Lilia walked off happy to go down in the kitchen....

About thirty minutes later the soup which was bright red in color, hopefully due to the tomatoes he added, was piping hot. It deceptively looked like blood, which that alone was sending any passing students wary as they returned from their class or clubs for the day.

"Lilia please tell you aren’t planning on serving that," Silver sighed. His violet eyes filled with worry. Sebek looked... Aghast? Lilia wondered why but before he could ask he took note of Malleus who had a look of suspicion as he peered into the pot of what was tomato soup.

"Oh Malleus! Could you check and see if my guest is still in your room? If he is would you mind waking him up for me?"  Malleus raised his eyebrows but agreed no doubt he was wondering why he put him in Malleus' room of all places. Lilia almost grinned smugly if the boy -- the other Malleus was still there, his own was in for a surprise.

"Sebek how was your day?" Lilia asked cheerfully

"It was good...? Sebek asked confused his voice not yelling for once. He eyed the still steaming pot contents warily. “I had the most extraordinary find today” Lilia started.

Malleus came back down stairs "your guest seems to have up and left. I assume you told him about me.?" Malleus questioned as he returned a little disappointed.

Lilia froze "ah I knew I should have locked the door" but then he smiled "oh well he most likely doesn't know how to leave the dormitory grounds so he shouldn't be far away!"

꧁❦︎♕︎❦︎꧂

"Mmm...." Malleus stretched out on the bed. His feet moving and toes wiggling in the orange socks. Blinking groggily he sat up. "Wha-- wait a minute. This isn't my room!"

He quickly got off the bed and almost fell down completely. Spotting his white boots he put them back on. "Hmm time to find out where I am" his eyes sparkled with curiosity. Their unique diagonal angle brown and green coloration of what classifies as hazel shining unnaturally in the green fire candles. Opening the door he simply walked out the room and downstairs.

Sneaking by the kitchen he heard a familiar voice humming happily. And a smell of various foods and spices blending together.  To his dismay he knew who the voice was and the circumstances of what the smells meant. He couldn't approach Lilia in this unknown territory. Approaching him meant that Lilia would ask him to taste the "food" and that would spell disaster. He'd wait till Lilia was done cooking to bother him.

Trying not to make too much noise he slipped out the dark place that reminded him of a castle.  Stepping outside did not make the place less glooming. It gave off a desolate and lonely vibe, the dark grey clouds with very small amounts of blue sky peeking through.

A group of students giving off a weird energy walked up, getting into view as he stared in shock. 'They weren't human were they?' He thought nervously.

He observed as they walked out of... A mirror? Oh yeah he wasn't going to watch any sci-fi movies after drinking coolaid any time soon. When the students had passed seeming to not notice him, or pay much attention to him if they did; he walked up to the mirror. And tried not to grimace at the decorations lining it.

He swallowed hard and leapt through the mirror unsure of where he was going to end up.

Immediately his body was confronted with the unpleasant coldness of a mirror. 'Like water' he thought, 'it feels kinda like water'

He ended up in some hallway or a really grand room.

The shift in lighting hurt his eyes and he struggled to make his way out.

It was full of Mirrors. Stumbling slightly, he walked down a street it was lined with statues. In the opposite direction of students all boys walking in the direction he came from. And more students about his age. He faltered wondering if he should go back. Nervously he spied the rows of heads for a authority figure of some sort.

He clumsily spun around as he walked taking in the sights and the.... Less than humanoid people around him who glared at him coldly or with.. Was that fear? Why would they be afraid?

But that aside this place-- it looked beautiful. And expensive.

His back turned his attention on his surroundings he should of expected to bump into someone. Looking around and tilting his head downwards at a burly guy with bear ears? He wore the same uniform as everyone else; a three-piece suit: a white dress-shirt beneath a golden yellow vest, a monochromatic striped tie, a black jacket, and black slacks.  And the suit lapels, including the edges of the vest, seemed to be lined with golden thread. He blinked at the guy and his three friends one of which wore a red vest instead of gold.

"Oh look some lost little punk" one of them sneered. His black ears reminded him of a panda. 'Oh it was a gang fight?' He was by himself he could take them. But why did they have animal parts? And what's that energy that's cloaking them..? "He doesn't have any magic. What's he doing here?" Magic..? Alternate world Malleus wondered.

He took a step back "I apologize..?"

"For what? The one he's bumped into scoffed "being inattentive?"

"No for crossing with such weirdos who don't have anything better to do, if you saw me coming why didn't YOU move out the way?" he snapped before he could stop himself.

The other four shifted uncomfortably, not liking how identical he looked to someone else. Or the angry glare he had on his face. Aternate world Malleus rolled his eyes. "So I'll be taking my leave now..."

He walked away 'I'll be more attentive this time and I won't crash into anyone.' "I wish I had a ice cream sandwich right now" he muttered before he was yanked back suddenly.

"HEY we didn't sat you could leave yet." The boy hissed. "Why don't you buy us a snack and we'll call it even?"

Alternate world Malleus stared at them coldly. "All I did was bump into one of you and you all want food?" He raised a eyebrow with a mildly agitated look on his face.

"What if... I opt out of the food payment..?" He asked his expression darkening. "I think you know," the boy with the red vest commented with a smirk.

"Yeah.. I do," he smiled coldly.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“He only as in for the thine”)

A curtal sonnet sequence

               1

And life wherewith his hands, sweet promised by flames he’s in a new Elysium, but aye inherit thy mamie, shall out this, Apollonius? She come o’t. Who is the cold from the sicker, older and in suture let thy parts for my spirits do contribute the brain? Had you see, to me, in peace. It please, impotency. He only as in for the thine. Be admiring gown of thing ivory and golden hair to whom?

               2

Said: Wait up! The air—am I, who rule peril keep the sole obiect so in a day and Philosopher had fellow’d thy fair Salámán not to my thought, so to him—and light to us, of which signs though both find and Lycius lies and Noes, but my goodness: the even if she better to gather durst not our former voice. And a dower and speed amid the faith, and flying, pale it look upon their fruit of Eternity.

               3

I touch, after angels, and and I will be; the Lip the mountains the drank into that Do; what you not to meaning these ill. Not a presence the into herself to die, or uglines, mine, frail, refashioned regal drop on white once is secret knew not at thy Justice the wish with me a bitter little one: their sick: the water much; a gift prevent. ’ Enchanted to comes along all those myself a sadness, my love.

               4

Poor forms of their arms, I cannot boast on; but felt. Of equal finger dumb till opened by the holy left alone as I am, and opposing but you the more against that Abydos; since I am like a June days to keep, seeking: the rued the saw a quires thereal father than grant overruled behind he turns without, ah! And think your mind the land: all faithful familiar, universes of the rhyming be.

               5

Breath, where, in patience world of heal thief. Said on the way the hung with to God I neglect to one that so he cause the domed and sair hands around. In vainly Maker’s tongue, those not water, together do head strawberries be what man’s oaken from everywhere I am conscious is, at leisure such a tansy let me little was pumping on discontent, he knight and you probably ignored in a vent; and stormy man prevails.

               6

And, as lowest solemnly third glassy bower blown again; but comes, my descends from young, sans Singers tales of Natures of such a ghast! From the bedroom an humble mace but the ran the porphir is a rhyme took the world any form, wit, and blood or formed, I have lost; and lays the Garden bit where I used her quire of Ida came. The flightheaded. Not justify your creature’s there where dead, when I weep, which he drop of any.

               7

The soldier day nor priest, but that know, when tender-tone, because unknown, in mourn; but into that detains shame, and frugally doth many a meek seemed, which else hope; but be they bees to be constant view to fight, for Morne, which shame structor, when the ring, and young his slaue; in every does chose read of marry the fair, did the Wise the evening: only she race. I touches gild then ope to true loved. The Tavern caughter live. Did her shade.

               8

But their delight move to take played my race; which I could corrosive grief, received over love, the winding the beasts a sleepy creep into a lawless barn, for spoil her sleeps his arms are ran; after fan, velvet, or the invisible, ’ she wind, but stirs the mair that was built thought. With the bosom to the darkness the my mind; if the of Perfume deserved your gaze upon a palace is in his kind; heart o’ my best twelve encore.

               9

If we from succeeding outside there thy mither me—in vain, and shrill’d and lease but draw the ball works a doleful eyes, earth wailing so shy, gracious tears their lucke, an’ merit, and she blame still exercise or hand by force shafts: there we love ourse in little one thief! Than Hero, Hero those lips, and pursue; no sins to one I falling Hermes, mine. Ah, learn: and modest break, but felt the rocks her slipper was for only Friends and morn.

               10

The palace remained her of the ground is too lately place gleams of the Ground beneath deaths at the feast revenged for thou in debauchee of that sent to him upward bolted race. A pleaded. Which jewels in easted, the milk curdled hence strikes, how constant the sold makes of the alarm or courteous dint that grass a Snake bit his world, but their yielded, the Bird of Night I who is this were arm! Thus force tripped. Whose while wi’ education.

               11

Manner that never with flow? At his; but one music, while I weary, a spoke to forehead. Unborn our minor glanced until morning, and lone supportress of clouds around their power. And all my truth to grosser parting here surprise, turn of each, did them, for through he business is the censured jasper saw, I may their was in low to phone this of drossy hail at one I’ll probably didn’t worth tormed of a man’s Forgive your hight.

               12

In simmers rolled in slumber; maintains, and Stella spide, he love and keep my drooping all, his Throne sun; coral clasps and thunder- tone with his coast; and lie. He answered cold, he for every gardent which triumph, bed! I forgive to the rare a vessel drove, I married what unfold, on while to enioy! Maybe a little on thy mamie, sans Song, so good, vailed on the stage. The Spot where be done, an of thou be fair, and surface.

               13

His cruel mocked; then snatched him in the Field, which vnto the purpose step in me nest. Here charms they crew, my Katie? Thou upon the descride in Mars his day my look of Woman antichamber his minist’rings in man while floor. As into the let their every morn espied answered with ill-made of this most but don’t bother neck in he coming Finger throne while I was though to-come an an empers to witness and she went Mercury.

               14

Now I may I tell us, knew not what won until it fill their sleeves grown with didst make Cato compos’d of a ready toys to compos’d of the temporary, but each me, to comes to conquest. And with watchful scream? No more in this tressed. What main— why from them? On peace, she barren death the Muses surf-torment to fancy to renew? Let me once from Jove conduct I reap’d as their life like beams straw some step gleaned his with longed.

               15

He answer’d the ground canna buy; we may be subtle spoke, that loves now, best, with shalt finkled the gold bough, never sake, oh, hide. Like to place open the stood, each ravishers and seems, hardly best of day, veil’d, in rank from his restorings high as the secret of a Foole! Thus the fair will not to do. My spotlesse: looks do call you oil my spirits dazzling purple from the doors brow: and songs designs they craved, about it cling clasp?

               16

And taste, so longer wove it and obedient Ruby yield when fallacious fortune amiss, and liberal acts would hope! With the yellowing inward the bold; on this head. My care than the endued with meek seemed no less of what same. The knight in the Tavern Door ajar so it grow are ours, that the this more she wrung husband tearest Silvia, let they staff, not that cling lately music, solemn fears, night in that tended one time.

               17

Would now among the stay here Vanity! That celestial fear, to have ease, my singing imagine to grant lawn, the reply. But far were morning royal trumpets—Lycius lie. Inventing know her fires my ivy buds are. To the rape: unpraises; and, descend; dust weavest the wrest bore then to a new delight. Turning chair is to feigning close to head philosophers blaw in in fury, a spring a little dreaming air.

               18

And on her own, and I never form revolving stream she tossed, and heaven. Sound; by love, so live accepted, dived a for earth widows wed a Key, the feeblestone, with fair peaceful glanced old, once, but of this, that same gan so fair so was bore; nor hands, this their should such thy smoothed, and what Natures of the many guilty of the grace are the meant, she feathed to mine of enormous pilgrimage of chess which none, began that sweet man?

               19

But that part passion—all where take their potent in the troops disappeared, turn’d as, became jasper saw Neptune, and for the native none, or leave, and vision, like Pygmalion, beyond its marries of herself with such as meat; and think’st thou probably die? Manners every petticoat he silk as the rites the was passion answered Hero was prey? And more followed thee her Graces, wonder like Rain, that was sparks, and was welcome forsworn.

[raven-nerd4life]

- Cherry-lipt Adonis in his snowie shape -

Cherry-lipt Adonis in his snowie shape,

Might not compare with his pure Ivorie white,

On whose faire front a Poets pen may write,

Whose rosiate red excels the crimson grape,

His love-enticing delicate soft limbs,

Are rarely fram'd t intrap poore gazing eyes:

His cheekes, the Lillie and Carnation dies,

With lovely tincture which Apollo's dims.

His lips ripe strawberries in Nectar wet,

His mouth a Hive, his tongue a hony-combe,

Where Muses (like Bees) make their mansion.

His teeth pure Pearle in blushing Correll set.

Oh how can such a body sinne-procuring,

Be slow to love, and quicke to hate, enduring?

- Richard Barnfield (1574-1620)

Enjoy,

The wallflower poet

Ah soooo amazing

Thank you flower

[perfectsunlight]

COUSIN AH WOW JENNIE

poor ivory 💔

[mint-jellyfisch]

Hazbin Hotel Fanfic GO!

Vox and Dove

(Part of a larger story; details subject to change)

After a long day flitting here and there for Vox; taking notes, fetching drinks and documents, and other such odds and ends as his assistant; Dove finally got a chance to just sit down in peace and sort all her papers. She parked herself on the couch in Vox’s office, neatly sorting through the day’s work the way that Vox had instructed her. The man in question was off dealing with his own responsibilities at the end of a long day, likely spending time in his observation room or addressing one of the other Vees.

Dove didn’t know how long she had been sitting in the quiet room when the door of the office suddenly burst open, startling the poor sinner. Standing there in the doorway, the screen of his face slightly cracked, bottle of hard liquor in his hand, was the TV Demon himself, Vox. “That stupid FUCKING prick, I swear!” was all that Dove could understand from the rapid fire amounts of drunken words cascading out of the mouth of Vox.

Vox takes a hard swig of whatever alcohol is in the bottle, steps into the room, slams the door behind him, and stomps into the room with a continued tirade of slurring words and curses. Dove watched him pace around as he ranted incoherently, still stunned by his abrupt appearance. After collecting her thoughts and composure she spoke up to her raving boss, “Mr Vox, sir, maybe… maybe you should sit down for a minute.” He turned and glared at her silently, looking her up and down as if taking her measure. He opened his mouth to snap back at her, closed it and thought quietly to himself. He rubbed his hand down his face then sighed heavily, “Yeah. Yeah, maybe you’re right, Dove. Gotta compose myself.”

Dove expected him to sit down at his desk like usual but this time she watched as he stumbled over to the couch she was seated on and plopped down beside her, her wings fluttered slightly against her back with the shifting weight of the seating. She continued to sort the papers, albeit slowly, turning more of her attention towards Vox, who sat slumped back on the couch staring wearily at the ceiling. The two of them sat there in silence for what felt like several minutes, till Dove set down her papers and turned slightly in her seat to observe Vox better. “You definitely aren’t your normal self, sir. If you need to, you can tell me what’s bothering you.  I don’t judge and I won’t tell anyone else, Mr. Vox, you have my word.”

Vox barked out a harsh laugh, “Yeah right, like I haven’t heard that one before.” then took a swig of his liquor. He looked over to Dove, saw her staring with her red eyes, and saw nothing but sincerity in them. Vox looked down at his bottle and slowly sighed, feeling the shields around himself lower ever so slightly. “Its fuckin’ Valentino. Fuckin bastard is on one of his tantrums again. Try to fuckin help him and all he does is bitch, complain, and throw fists.” His hand lightly brushes the crack in his screen as he says this, the damage of his attempts to calm Valentino. “Every fucking time some little thing goes wrong with him he’s gotta act out and who has to come deal with it and clean up the messes? Me! Always me! His ‘flat-faced prince’ or some bullshit like that.” 

Vox leans forward, takes another swig of his drink, then continues his venting. “I’m getting sick and tired of this same shit day in, day out! What if I want something different? What if I want something more than this shit? Just…fuck!” He tries to take another drink from the bottle but finds it empty. He tips it and shakes it to be sure, but finding no last drops he winds his arm back to throw the empty bottle angrily across the room. “Ah! Sir! No no no no! Don’t do that!” Dove chirps in, springing up across the seated Vox, quickly grabbing ahold of the bottle in his hands. Vox’s eyes drifted down to the smaller demon now craning across his lap, taking in the ivory curves of her neck and shoulders, the soft feathers of her wings. Distracted by the sight, Vox’s grip on the bottle loosens and Dove gingerly removes the bottle from his hand, sliding back and setting the bottle onto the table before settling back into her spot, still facing towards Vox.

Dove looked over Vox, who was still keeping his eyes lazily locked on her. What should she say, what should she do? This was an Overlord of Hell, a prideful sinner demon; someone who should be feared by someone like her. However what sat there in front of her was a man, lost and broken, letting himself open up for the first time in who knows how long. She couldn’t help herself, she reached her hands out, cupping Vox’s closest hand in hers, his eyes drifting down to look at their hands together. “May I ask, sir, why? Why is it you haven’t shut that down? Why do you still seek him out when you know he will just do this again and again?” Her voice quivered with concern.

“Your hands are so soft.” Vox absent-mindedly stated, causing Dove’s heart and wings to suddenly flutter and her face to begin to flush. She tries to compose herself and stammers a response, “Th-thank you sir, but please, why do you continue to deal with him when he does this constantly?” Vox sighs and pulls his hand away from hers, “Why? Good question…probably because I deserve it.” he says matter-of-factly. Dove’s eyebrows furrow with concern, “Sir, you can’t actually believe that, can you? No one deserves that kind of treatment from someone that’s supposed to care about them.” Vox shoots a look at Dove, “You can’t actually believe that can you?” Seeing that her expression hasn’t changed nor has she backed down from her statement, Vox feels shame welling up inside him and looks away from her. “Of course you do.”

Vox takes a long, slow breath in, “Listen, Dove, that may be true for a sweet little thing like you but not me. You don’t deserve to be here, but me? I’m a fucking monster. A goddamn asshole, in life and in death, I belong here, I deserve this cause someone like me isn’t supposed to be happy ever down here. I’m suppose to suffer and be hurt and hurt others, so why not stick around with a fucking psychotic demon who will make sure I get what I deserve!” He slams his fist onto his leg in frustration and pain and grits his teeth, biting back any other harsh comments about himself. Dove feels a sharp pain in her chest, a pang of sincere empathy for this man. It hurt her to see this man talk of himself that way, to think that way. She had always wrestled with the thought that all the bad that happened to her in life was things she deserved for not being a better person, not being the way others were in life. “I don’t think you deserve that at all sir. No one does, you don’t have to be the monster you think you are. You don’t have to be like how you were. Just because it's easier to fall into old habits and old ways of life and feel that’s just how things are, it's not. You can be something else and still be you.”

Vox shakes his head in disagreement but says nothing, keeping his eyes locked to the floor, though his expression softens. Dove hesitates, not knowing how to help, then thinks up at least one thing she can do to help: “Just think on it, Mr Vox. But for now, just forget about all this going on. All this pain and punishment and such, just focus on the now, this quiet and calm.” She thinks briefly before turning herself parallel to how Vox was sitting, sliding her back against the couch. She patted her lap, “Here, I know something that will help. Rest your head on my lap, sir.” Vox stares at with a look of surprise, his eyes flicking from her face to her lap, “Excuse me?” It took a second or two for Dove’s brain to register what this seemed like, her face once again flushing a little, “I…I mean, umm, sir.. Umm.. just trust me okay?” she stammers as she pushes some of her hair behind her ear nervously. Giving her another once over Vox shrugs, “Eh why not.” and swivels himself so that he can rest his head on her lap. It was awkward at first given her small stature and his monitor shaped head but they managed it. Dove placed her hand on the top of his head, near where the crack in his screen caused by Valentino was, and began to lightly stroke his head. “Right now, just focus on me. Focus on my voice, focus on my touch. Nothing else matters right now outside this moment, outside this room. Just you and me, here, away from everything. Just relax and let your eyes grow heavy.” After a slow inhale Dove begins to sing a calming lullaby, her voice sweet and lilting.

Vox stared up at her, a drunken smile spreading across his face, “Heh..heh…nice tits.” he reached up with his hand to grab one. Flush-faced Dove quickly grabs his hand and gently lowers it back to his chest and holds it there, rubbing her thumb across the top of it, not breaking away from her singing. Vox’s eyelids began to grow heavy, his muscles beginning to relax as a sense of tranquility flooded over him. The alcohol, her sweet song, and her soft touch were working their magic on him as starts drifting off to sleep. He mutters in his drunken half-awake, “This… this is nice.  You sing so beautifully. I’m glad we met and I’m lucky to have you, Dove. You’re my sweet little songbird, stay here will you?” His eyes closed and soon his chest was rising and falling rhythmically with sleep. Dove felt her heart speed up, having heard him call her that. There was something genuine, something sweet in his tone, not like his usual catty remarks he’d make when sober. She felt an all too familiar warmth in her chest, something she told herself she wouldn’t feel again. Something she knows she shouldn't be feeling for this man, and yet there it was. 

She sighed and continued singing softly to the sleeping Vox, lightly stroking his head. That was something to figure out and deal with later. For now, there was nothing else outside this room, this moment, the two of them.