#mageshot

[reedraws]

WIP wednesday thursday!

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[archaeval]

Four ships for Ruby! Featuring characters from @messymusehub @cosmicnexus @sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins and @mageshot

[quirofiliac]

mageshot asked: BITING. THEY ARE BITING HIM. BITING HIS HANDS.

@mageshot​​​／ unprompted ／ always accepting.

Kira doesn’t bother to wait.

In an instant, he has his entire hand at their throat. Fingers locked around meaty flesh, already beginning to squeeze every... last... inch of air out. Rough, uncut nails (he didn’t have time, yet, today to cut them. it bothers him, makes him want to bite them.) dig in, piercing through skin because he wants it to. There’s no choice in the matter for Lyric, because he’s decided it for them.

If they wanted to act like a feral animal then... oh. 

Then who was he to deny them their wants and needs? It was only right, however, for him to treat them like one.

“You’re a fucking brat.”

He doesn’t think to continue their little “game”-- at least, not as of right now. There was no point, because they’ve already decided to step over the line (a long, thick line kira’s drawn between them in the sand using his foot.) and cross over from “fantasy” and dive straight into “reality”. He’s only deciding to finish what they started, because, evidently, they don’t have the goddamn balls to do even that... because, why?

Because they never fucking do nor will. Clearly, Kira still has his work cut out for him.

All pretenses were skipped in a matter of moments (seconds, ticking away already in kira’s head. already, he’s counted to ten.) with how he regards them. A fury bristles up through his voice, stagnant yet on the constant verge of teetering over the edge. It’s nearing the territory of tr-tr-trembling with anger. A small quiver’s the sole testament to his unbridled, red hot rage. He considers, for a brief second’s worth of time, if manifesting Killer Queen would further help sway them back down towards the metaphorical hierarchal ladder.

He doesn’t know why it was so damn hard for them to understand.

Kira Yoshikage was always above them (it’s why they had to depend on him. it’s why they should depend on him.) and then? Lyric Gravellese would always be below him, nipping away at his ankles for the next round of scraps.

And why was that? Even though it’s so painfully obvious... Because it’s all they were good for.

His stand’s yet to make an appearance -- a waste of energy, he’s both decided and determined -- but he’s more than fine without it. Kira’s already taking a few steps forward, lifting Lyric’s body slowly up off of the floor as he does. Inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter... he doesn’t spare them any further room. His other hand’s slathered in spittle (gross. it makes his stomach turn, rolling itself over and over in nonstop flips. he wants to vomit, hoping he aims it just right and hits them in a direct hit.) and he’s only reminded of the fact once the sensation of a bead of it rolls down over his index knuckle.

Disgusting. Nauseating. Revolting. Repulsive. Absolutely fucking abhorrent.

Of course, Kira’s mind couldn’t help but wander (and wonder, too, he supposes.) where Lyric learned the embarrassingly small amount of manners they do have from. Surely, it wouldn’t have been from either of their parents. If he were their father, he would’ve--

“Why do I have to keep reminding you who’s in fucking charge here?”

A twist of the wrist and a jerk of the arm, and, within seconds, Kira had them high up all of the floor. His eyes were slow to follow, trailing almost casually behind the trail he’s made for them before finding their eyes. It’s not a direct look, one that wasn’t meant to serve as acknowledgement nor accepting of their very existence. It was more or less to inform them that, at least, he was still tolerating them. That was the least he could do, considering the amount of attention -- or the lack thereof, as Kira had constantly reminded them -- they received on an average, day-to-day basis.

And, no, he’d always tell them (sometimes he thought about knocking on top of their head using just his knuckles, both to see if he’d get hollow feedback and to see if there was actually any sort of response they’d worth to give him.) that their coworker, Haru, didn’t count. To their defense, they never actually asked him but... ah, he always liked to cover each and every one of his bases just in case.

“You keep doing this to me, Lyric.”

He flexes his fingers, to both test his strength and to test how much oxygen they have left in their system. Kira’s head doesn’t move another inch, remaining completely still even as his neck grows stiff. It’s a mildly uncomfortable feeling, but he’s been through far worse.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this treatment, but clearly you think that I am.”

His eyes finally meet theirs officially, but there’s no fanfare. There was no standing ovation. Instead, it was cold, dead silence. Hardly any life withstood inside of them, gazing at them through a baby blue, barren wasteland serving as little more than one of his five senses: sight. Not another muscle dared to move upon his face, even as he himself considered (humored, even... because it might’ve worked in his favor... but it’d be too cliché, he thinks, now.) looking more enraged.

He could’ve bared his teeth at them, haphazardly snapping his jaw and gnashing his teeth at them like a rabid dog. Give them a taste of their own medicine, he thinks, because it could’ve been oh-so cathartic. Them flinching back in fear would’ve made this entire situation all the more bearable... if only for a moment, anyway. Some amount of outright terror might’ve made this whole, unpleasant altercation betwixt actually matter. Maybe then Kira would’ve thought that his suffering would have some weight to it.

But... no. It wouldn’t. It’d be fleeting, and he hates that feeling.

“So, tell me.”

He doesn’t let them.

He only squeezes more, as if to toy with the idea of genuinely, actually popping their windpipe. To feel it crush beneath his grip, caving in under the immense pressure. He’s never seen it happen in person in such agonizing delay before, come to think of it... but maybe there’s a reason for it. There was never much good reason for Kira to stay behind, to watch a victim writhe and twitch out towards him as if he would be their salvation. They would crawl towards him (like a newborn babe.) with one hand stretched out towards him, fingers sprawled out like a mangled starfish with a wild fervor shining bright behind their eyes. They fought against him for the right to live, and they would only continue to fight.

Admirable. To some, at least.

Not to one Kira Yoshikage, however. He’s always found it somewhat... unsightly, for lack of better word. There was something so unnerving (uncanny, maybe.) about watching someone fight so hard against the inevitable. To some, they might’ve referred to it as disheartening while others would call it inspiring. But to Kira? It was nothing short of embarrassing.

It was more than enough to give him secondhand embarrassment and so? He’s always decided to leave the room, because it cut out a lot of unnecessary outliers.

Most especially, however, it always cut out the awkwardness.

“Stop being a fucking baby and tell me.”

Craning his head towards them, he clenched his fingers tighter around their neck. He could feel their flesh start to give, but only enough to enable him to leave  these deep purple, garish marks and then?

“Go on.”

Oh, and then...?

“You fucking pussy.”

Even had he given them a chance to speak (he doesn’t.), he’s quick to rip it away. Like pulling out the rug out from under their feet, he swiftly cuts off any opportunity for them to respond with a quick, simple action.

He shakes them--

“Fucking say something.”

--and he’s going to leave marks.

There he allowed for a small curl of the lip to display his true feelings, a look of sheer and utter disgust directed at them and only them. Opposite hand suddenly makes itself known, mashing itself straight under their chin. Thumb smashed against one cheek whilst the rest of his fingers the other, holding their head snugly in place. His eyes squinted (like a cat’s upon the first sight of prey, pupils going as far as to dilate mere miliseconds after.) at them, practically challenging them-- daring them to just try and say anything.

He’s going to leave marks. They’re going to be a deep purple, with blacks and blues mixed in. It’s going to be obvious, he decides. He’s going to make them ache any time they touch them, see them in the mirror, thinks about them. He’s going to leave marks on and in them.

Oh, yes. He’s going to leave marks--

“Do as you’re told.”

--and all he’s going to do is ask, in his best soothing and worried voice, them what happened.

[eclipsecrowned]

😘😘😘😘 free kissies for whoever wants them // @lunarscaled​

There’s never been a balm for his chapped lips. He learned young there were too little remedies for his ailments, from the most grave to the simplest annoyance. In the moment, the prince thinks he’s sorry, sorry his lips will bleed against heirs. Spindly fingers dance without rhythm in the air, as if he could expect help in such affairs.

Had he ever seen kissing before? It’s such a dull kingdom, his home, not like where they hail from. Lyric must have seen their parents kissing -- the knights love each other. Lothric can’t recall having seen such affection before, yet he’s been thrown into this act headlong.

He extricates himself from the web, sure he’s only sport, half-adored and mostly teased. Clawed digits trace the shape of his thin, pallid lips. 

So that’s how it is.

“Not only do I question your taste,” he rasped, “I deny its existence entirely.” A pause. “You’re a horrid kisser.”

[pomfiores]

@mageshot​ said: they are avoiding they don't wanna be the person to get in the Queen's way

    A shame, truly.  They were always a curious individual.  At least they knew to stay out of his way.  Most couldn’t (or wouldn’t) take a blatant hint let alone a verbal warning.

@pcrdiseseekers​ said: yuu avoids because he's not kneeling @magiclcss​ said: avoiding, sorry queen not today 😂

     So long as you’re out of his way rather than spewing ceaseless complaints.            But do remember, someday you’ll have to kneel.  It’s only inevitable.

[mortul]

@mageshot​  ∕  ☠️

They’ve been sitting like that for a while, now. Hell, anyone with a brain would know, instantly, that something was wrong.

He doesn’t say anything at first, though, because... well, experience. A few tries in the past has since led him to the conclusion that, with Lyric? It wasn’t in either of their best interests if he wanted (and, usually, he doesn’t care because his wants and needs matter the most, anyway.) to tackle it head-on, no matter how much the truth of that made him want to crinkle his nose up in disgust.

At first, he’s casual in how he sauntered up behind them, taking note of slouched posture. Even someone with zero empathy, he thinks, would notice that they’re absolutely fucking miserable.

“... Hey.”

His tone’s soft, if a little hoarse from earlier-- who knew that screaming, “YOU CAN RUN ALL YA LIKE, BUT YER STILL DEAD!” while cackling like an absolute maniac while also running would take so much out of you? Not him!

Christoph doesn’t take the lack of response personally. Instead, he just takes it further as invitation.

Approaching from behind, he strolls to their side and carelessly plops himself down next to them in a gargoyle-like sit. Turning towards them, he tried for a lazy grin (something they’re used to seeing from him.) and raised a hand to precariously touch them just a few inches below the nape of their neck before laying his palm down in an attempt of a comforting rub.

“Ya did what ya had to, y’know?”

He knows it doesn’t help much.

“They were assholes.”

[celesticlnstcrs]

Ritsu grunted feeling something trip over him. Ruby eyes opened, squinting at the brightness from the sun. They  moved to find the source of who or what woke him from his nap. The spot he had chosen once was nice and shaded, perfect to sleep under. But of course the sun moves  throughout the day. What a pain. 

“ Who are you to wake me up? I should bite you for such a  crime. ”

@mageshot​ ❤’d for a starter

[sacredpit]

↳               @mageshot​​  wrote   :     ❝   there was no place for me to return to .   this was the only place i could go .   ❞

                                 prompted          /          closed .

          humans are so   infuriatingly   delicate .   ’twas the reason for which his mother so thoughtfully warned him about entwining himself   too intimately   with a member of the species ,   why she had dedicated what likely totals to   hours   detailing all she knew of their nature before her son was set to venture out   &   coexist with the peculiar species under the advice of the elders pertaining to his quest to achieve his final tail .   &   though he makes a point to listen carefully to his mother whenever she bestows glimmers of wisdom unto him ,   kakyoin would be untruthful were he to claim that ,   in that moment ,   he felt as though the content of her adjuration concerned him much at all ;   he’d   never   be close enough to a human for their innate fragility to render him fearful of anything ,   right ??  

foxfire crackles at the hearth of a lantern ,   casting a calming aureate glow against the   angry red   of the wound .   kakyoin has not uttered a single word to lyric since he found them dragging themself through his mother’s garden ,   their trousers blotched with crumbling cakes of dirt aggregated with blood   ———   not an inquiry toward their well - being ,   not a question regarding the events that had instigated their state of injury ;   he only silently ,   forcefully ,  took them by the wrist   &   dragged them into his mother’s tea room .   thankfully ,   the matriarch is fast asleep in her chamber ,   &   despite her heightened senses ,   once she falls into deep enough a slumber ,   she could likely lie at rest during a tsunami .

he does not doubt that lyric senses his ire :   he is doing very little to conceal it .   perhaps he should handle the wound he is treating a bit more delicately instead of practically yanking his friends arm to   &   fro ,   but he cannot so much as   hope   to keep his choler at bay any   more than he already is   in not berating them with every morsel of his fiery spirit .   both parties had been silent up to this point ;   lyric starts to say something before kakyoin can shoot them a glare sharp enough to slice their tongue to ribbons ,   the other appearing to have taken advantage of a moment wherein the yokai pointed his face away from them to locate the roll of bandages .   they are answered at first by only a miffed breath as the fox spirit begins to sheathe the sterilized bite - wound in clean ,   pristine ivory .

“   as if that makes this any better ,   ”   he finally utters ,   voice a brandished knife .   “   i’ve told you not to come here unless i’m there to escort you .   you may think you’re too smart ,   too discerning ,   too willful   to fall victim to the charms of my kind ,   but the reality is that no human is .   not without the help of something   other than .   ”   the ethereal lineaments of the kitsune’s face harden with frustration ,   an expression that looks almost unnatural to a creature so renowned for its serene beauty .   even so ,   his heart is far from hardened .   he feels for lyric’s predicament ,   aches   to have encountered them a stride away from death’s doorstep .   that   is why he is so angry .

wetness threatens to gather in the ducts of his eyes ,   but he remains steadfast in blinking it away .   he cannot direct his fury toward his fellow kitsune ,   for she only sought to behave in a way demanded by her nature .   verily ,   he cannot truthfully pin it to lyric ,   either ,   for they said it themself :   they had nowhere else to go .  thus ,   he can only be angry with himself ;   he should have known better than to think that lyric wouldn’t come back when the winds of their travels had changed course   ———   he should have been more   vigilant ,   should have taken it upon himself to meet them upon their return ,   whatever it took .   the guilt coils at his core ,   &   he lowers his head against the mangled muscle of their arm ,   the red waves of his hair cascading down the bone - white bandage as if he is bleeding onto it .

“   what do you suppose i might have done if you weren’t able to escape to me in time ??   ”   he questions ,   the tight suspension of hot tears causing his sockets to ache .   “   your flesh ,   your bone ,   your   soul   devoured without a trace   ———   leaving me to discover the horrors of your final moments ,   which occurred within walking distance of where i was wandering my mother’s garden at night .   i would bear that grief into every new millennium .   ”   the grip of clawed hands on the tanned skin of their arm tightens ;   enough to break skin ,   but leaving blood undrawn .   

          “   if ever there is a next time you find yourself alone at the torii separating our world   &   yours ,   call for me as loud as you can .   i will come to you ,   i swear it .   ”

[regensia]

@mageshot​

     “So she left me for this other dude, but then texts me every few months asking for money for like Plan B because he refuses to help her buy it but also refuses condoms. I don’t care that they’re together I guess but how fucked up is that? Is it more fucked up that I wire her the money each time? It’s not really personal against this guy but off the principal of the matter...” His hands were running over his ( thankfully unloaded ) handgun in a rather self-soothing manner.

[multimoss]

@mageshot asked:

give boyfriend.

boy friend acquired.

[bcbybats]

🐑 choose carefully or someone's getting pinched

      ꒷₊‧ ・⊰  ︶꒷꒦︶꒷꒦˚   “🐑” for my character to state a nickname  ⊱・ ꒷꒦˚ ‧₊˚

⊰ ♛ ⊱ ・ ︶ ꒷꒦˚  ╯  ❛ EASY, I could call you Lyly --- buthatisnoFUN. SO. GUESS WHAT. ❜   He pats their soft cheeks with his very cold hands. ❛ Slurps. Nonono, Sapphire is CUTE. Blueberry Juice. ❜

      ❛ Annoyance...  ❜

[makovu]

leona’s been staring at lyric for some time now, his expression unreadable besides what can only be described as thoughtfulness. when they finally seem to detect his gaze on them, he continues to stare a moment more before speaking.

“ ’s that bow not pissin’ you off?? ” it turns out that staring and thinking about someone else’s plight has done something to make him stop thinking about his own — and what a plight it is, in these uncomfortable clothes and these flowers all over the damn place.

@mageshot​ // starter call

[eclipsecrowned]

and lyric is GIVING MAXWELL THE SWIRLIE! THEY ARE GIVING HIM SWIRLIES AND SHOVING HIM IN LOCKERS!! // @mageshot​

FOOL! His other home was a locker until he ran off at 17! It’s a wonder he didn’t grow gills at Ferdinand Lukes! He was the swirlie KING in his youth! Nothing you do now can wound him --

YOU CAN ONLY RUIN HIS BESPOKE ENSEMBLE AND MAKE HIM LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT. go lyric go lyric go lyric go.

[archaeval]

I should dare to steal a kiss from those lips of yours.

unprompted asks || always accepting!

THE STORIES SAY SHE IS A MONSTER. A wicked, bloodthirsty thing made of arms and teeth and claws, who wants nothing more than the misery of others. She has killed and will kill again, in defense, in retaliation, in punishment. Few people are fool enough to even try stealing from her -- few, but not none. Some of them still live, wandering half-blind in the lower floors of the Archival Palace, their minds lost to the timeless maze of it all.

All this Lyric knows, and yet they still speak fearlessly, as simple as ever. Ruby regards them with a certain softness, one usually reserved only for Jane. She tilts her head to the side, the corners of her mouth turning upwards, as she speaks: “Steal it, then.” It is more permission than order, though she doubts Lyric has any plans to refuse. 

[cantuscorvi]

they want a handwritten note of all the voicemails on their answering machine so they don't have to listen to them or talk to anyone personally thanks 💙

[ come get your love letter ] // @mageshot

[fulgurantfirstborn]

Lyric has never been deterred by opponents three times their size before and they're not about to start now, so square up big guy this is about to be some David vs Goliath levels of audacity

"You dare to show me, a god, audacity?" He looks down at the shorter being, the scarf hiding his smirk. "Well then, let us not disappoint our audience... A fight you want and a fight you shall have!"