#malfabulae

[modern-austen]

From the author asks: ann radcliffe & ocscar wilde c:

ann radcliffe: what’s something you’re known for among your friends or family?

—usually for having a ton of random facts at my disposal for any given scenario I’m presented with

oscar wilde: what book have you read more than once?

—I’ve only read a couple books more than once and those would be “the song of achilles” by madeline miller, still currently my favourite book, and “the fault in our stars” by john green, my favourite book when I was a young teen.

[ask me something from this list of classic author asks!]

#ask #answered #classic author asks #malfabulae

[ofthepuzzle]

@malfabulae​ said: 🤝 (bc we're curious what you have in mind uvu) Send me 🤝, and I’ll post one thing my muse has in common with yours

Hmm.

Does it count that they both can be very deadly? //shot They have their own ways of ‘eliminating a problem’. Though Verona would more likely gut someone with her bare hands and Yami/Atem would let his shadow powers do that for him pfft.

#ooc.// #ABOUT.// #— ask replies.// #malfabulae #if looks could kill--

[flameleads]

@malfabulae​ continues to let me worldbuild: same au, different time? || ringed claws trace along the riddled - gloved palm presented ; whatever tricks she wanted to pull , they would not be easily managed with a magic like his. her touch is delicate , like a spectre passing over the warm , thriving flesh of a living body. splaying his fingers , she removes the glove in a gentle pull of foreclaw and hooked thumb ; from there , his hand is raised , painted lips pressing to the sole of his hand where pulse meets palm... there upon his skin a stain of her kiss , a resonate thrum of her magic.

The sordid history behind the pair of gloves he wore went unsaid. No one needed to hear the sad tale of a man who left destruction in his wake. White and made from a combination of materials, the gloves stayed on his person at all times, and no one could touch them. To the untrained eye, they were white and nothing else---rather boring. A practiced witch, however, would see the crimson symbols sewn in on the top of each glove with precision and care. Someone especially skilled and knowledgeable in older types of magic might understand the ancient alchemy behind such symbols.

Roy did not just wield fire. He manipulated the oxygen in the air while providing fuel for his flames to burn. The gloves merely allowed him finer control while protecting his hands. Should one take them off, they’d see the callouses he bore from various burns, and he might even allow one to feel his rough skin. Lingering too long, though, might earn unfortunate consequences.

His newest friend, one he had yet to learn the name of, did not yet warrant such treatment. Allowing her to hold his hand, and thus examine it, was his first sign of trust. She took off his glove with such care that he almost didn’t feel her touch. What sort of magic did she use again? They both were so cautious when revealing their true natures. Anyone who found out about who and what he was... well, they couldn’t. No one could know save for his new friend. The warmth of his hand undoubtedly gave some of it away.

Involuntarily, his fingers twitched as lips graced his palm. For a couple of seconds, he closed his eyes as well. He wouldn’t burn her---he learned how to control that reaction to touch years ago. Though, part of him had to wonder if he even could. The thrum of her magic resonated with him, lingering like cigarette smoke to the leather jacket he wore.

“What do you think?” Hushed tone, even though they had no onlookers to worry about. “You’re now one of the only people who know.”

#malfabulae #ic; light a fire | roy #ic; from the desk of roy mustang | answered asks [ unprompted ] #just a bunch of hocus pocus | au #[ pulling from canon to build this au ] #[ I loved writing this so much ]

[darkmagicattack]

@malfabulae​ said: 📜 we cannot resist sksk Send in 📜 and I’ll use this incorrect quotes generator using your muse and my muse. (Please specify how many muses//which muses for multimuse blogs!!)

#I--- am not sure iF they arE All too correCT buT I feel like it kind of fits pfff #I had to go through a lot of them to find something close enough fitting #LowKEY AgREE with the second one cuz yEAH dont wake me uP for this #//.ask replies #malfabulae

[ryusxnka]

@malfabulae​

        T he breathtaking stone,  ever-subtly was it motioned to a gradual left, then back to  the right, from 'tween  cool-padded fingers was,  indeed,  stunning to  the aesthetic eye.  ---  Its glistening overlay, whilst in movement,  was as beautiful as he had latterly proclaimed - comparable to an anew birthing sundown, it radiates sheens of dissimilar hues; it  was,  in  all  actuality,  mesmerizing,  influential  in  effectiveness,  temporarily withholding the capability  of pulling  one's subconscious  into a recollective  instant of their  childhood they’d deem as naught but elating.  ---- The other must-have forged it personally, those bandages they wore, clumsily swathed aloft each overlapping piece and dirtied by insanitary dust, grime, and  whatever else evidenced such a plausibility.

             Disapproving of an overabundance of constituents,  majorly those affixed to an individual's universal  conduct,  as in the  outward  manner they  represent  themselves when standing in the attendance of momentous figures,  Hitsugaya forthwith refuses to accept the perceptible negligence towards those undeterminable wounds. As hypocrite as he may fatly be for he often dismisses his own conditions, he felt  obligated, a youth husked within a spiritual-crystalline  body of  absolute integrity,  to exchange  this one's kindness for  proper, medical, attention. " Come with me. " it was not a proposition, but an outspoken command as the contributed commodity was gingerly stored in the loose confinement of his Shihakusho's pockets. "  -- I will not allow you to leave here without first getting your hands better bandages. " further words were thereafter enunciated all whilst he pivoted his  person in the explicit direction of his  division's barracks; Leaving.

#;Starter #malfabulae #slowest writer award goes to ... #breathes #2 me

[wyrdify]

Moodboard - Vanitas & Verona

@malfabulae​

#malfabulae #malfabulae (verona) #rel; something wicked this way comes #[ I realized they didn't have a tag so NOW THEY DO #I'm really happy with how this turned out ]

[sphaeraa]

@malfabulae​ [ for Verona ~ ]

            A Valkyrie was welcome company, truly.             But Verona--well, she was that, and then some. 

            Last he encountered her, though, she seemed less than thrilled to lay sights on the Hōgyoku’s form. She had seemed... outright agitated.             Not that he blamed her. He had been scarce in his presence, but his curiosity of her remained. How conflicting. How abstract. Still, though, the daemon appeared, his presence quiet--but with her senses keen to even those of faux-divinity, how likely it was for her to find his presence was high enough. 

            “I apologize...”             He began, once eyes laid sights upon her, lingering for only a moment in visual regard before lids lowered, and hues closed with a minor bow of his head. 

            “For intruding without invitation, that is...”

#malfabulae #verona interactions; #answered starter call; #[HERE WE GO~] #[if this doesn't work just lemme know~]

[hellguarded-a]

👻 , ⬛ from the hc asks.

dog brain  //  @malfabulae.

👻 - recall one or more times your muse has been the most scared or fearful

oh man, this one time he’s met death itself!!  well, that alone wouldn’t have been an issue, as he’s been surprisingly close friends with the  horseman of death  for several centuries now, but...  i suppose he’s never gotten on his bad side  until recently.  death tended to omit his whole deal-making with humans since...  well, i suppose you could just say death has been rather  lax  about it all, since.  in the end, he will get the souls;  sooner or later.  what prompted him to collect early was the fact that his brother, conquest, has practically orchestrated a witch hunt for ig and his mate, with whom ig has also made a contract for immortality ---  so it served as a  reason  for death to actually act upon that order.

so they had a small fight over that, until death made ig  age.  which was absolutely terrifying for him.  he’s stopped physically aging after about 25 years of age, and then lived like that for the next 3200 years.  as an immortal, it was something he’d simply taken for granted ---  and it wasn’t like anyone could just...  take that away from him, right?  except for someone like death.  so that was the first time he’d seen himself  grow old,  and that scared him like nothing before.  rather traumatic for him.

⬛ - what are some bad traits your muse might have?

his fatal flaw is probably ghosting people.  half the time he doesn’t even mean to.  when he was younger, he tended to be very brash;  lived a kind of rushed life.  easily distracted, and if he set his mind on something he just  went.  uncaring of consequences, he still retains some of that hedonism till today, mixed with certain wanderlust and the side effect of that is just...  leaving things  and  people behind.  and everytime he’s just...  says there was simply no time for goodbyes.  nowadays he still tends to just disappear, but it’s more tied to the fact that he’s  hunted.  the horseman of conquest, as mentioned above, wants him dead, so...  kinda inconvenient for ig to stay in one place for too long.  makes it hard to make connections and then actually make them last.

he’s also terribly competetive and hates to lose.  he won’t show it, like it’s not like he’ll throw a tantrum over losing a game or a friendly fight, but it’ll certainly nag at him and might demand a rematch.  which kinda plays into his absolute savagery when it comes to as much, as it’s one of the few things he tends to be completely merciless about.  depending on the person, they might find it annoying and not as fun to play with him, i suppose.

#malfabulae #≥ file 009: INTERCEPTED MESSAGES #≥ file 073: CERBERUS // page 3: additional notes #( the fear one is just ) #( oof ) #( ty ty tho! )

[sovrant]

'i want the K' // if it's okay ofc for the poetic star-friends verona & stolas

14: Forehead Kiss // @malfabulae

Befallen glory, shared by two.  Stray feathers caress the peak of her cheek, downy in their well-kept, though minorly wild, texture.  The image of her jagged edges, and sharp points engenders gentle compulsions for raw touch, of venturing fingertips, and all-encompassing arms.  It’s a type of kinship seldom found in the hearth of another, and he feels the innocently innate desire to indulgence in this warmth.

❛  If I may -  ❜  Onyx beak grazes the expanse of her forehead, rose-red hues falling down into the empty quiet of sight.  It’s a vulnerable display, marked by the starvation of the tactile, but he was too ancient and exhausted to feel such a thing as shame.  These were base desires of any organic being in this celestial universe of theirs, why raise one’s nose at the sight of expected caving ?

#weewoo #woowee #malfabulae #( ic / STOLAS ) #( ask / ic )

[sinnhelmingr]

❛ even spectres can tire. ❜ // long overdue!! from hekate!! // @malfabulae

She ought to know, better than any of them, in fact. Goddess of ghosts. Hel cannot even fathom being responsible for the multitudes, to be rendered hostess of hosts rather than mistress of a hall. Her mind peels back to the shadowplays of rebellion and warfare that her Guests attempt when they are wearied by the unchanging eternity of Helheim.

Yet Hekate must know a thousand other ways that the spirit might grow exhausted, whether in true blue despair or rage against the dying of their light. In the Eastern tongue, she might be called nothing less than a saint. So Hel closes off her thoughts, opens up her ears, leaves a single question on the tip of her tongue, bait for further education.

“What’s to be done with them, when they reach such a point?”

She empathizes, really, she does. Eternity is long, and it is exhausting. But she concedes it must look very different from a living perspective compared to the long afterlife.

#malfabulae #singing i'm the queen [V: MYTHOLOGY] #:D and a long overdue answer but yaaaaaaaay here we go!!!

[ofthepuzzle]

@malfabulae​ said:📜I know Verona is hard for you to meme on but... for me. Do it again pls. Send in 📜 and I’ll use this incorrect quotes generator using your muse and my muse. (Please specify how many muses//which muses for multimuse blogs!!)

#— 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝑔𝒶𝓁 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 (ic). — ask replies. #malfabulae #i--- tr ie d #they're too chaotic pfft

[solamor]

* (  REIGN /  SENTENCE PROMPTS. @malfabulae​ sent: ❛ We were supposed to dance under the stars. ❜ // aint never said two words-- but here, dance with the titan of war ; from verona.

An eccentric way to make an impression, but efficient at instilling a sense of permanence in the lulling occasion.     ❝  Hmm.  ❞  He gives a non-committal hum, though the fingers that now pull her into the open do enough to imply his favorable opinion about this sudden sway of theirs.  ❝  I find it very calming to dance in the dead of the night all in my lonesome.  ❞ His thoughtful voice slips into the silent atmosphere, molding itself into the setting rather than ruining it.   ❝  Since, as pretty as the stars might be, they’re still an audience of long-forgotten corpses.  You’re left to dance for yourself.  And doesn’t that sound freeing?  ❞

The gentleness of the beginning would not survive, only donned as a placeholder for more frenzied movements while he takes his unabashed time studying her, rapt eyes memorizing her appearance until satisfaction leads his gaze back to her own.  What a sharp looking thing, he feels as if he could cut himself on her presence alone if he weren’t too careful.  Thrilling.

One of his hands find themselves upon her waist, drive unapologetically unquestioning.  As scarce as his indulgence in the warmth of company was, he was still a creature of touch.  ❝ Perhaps I’m being too morbid, hm?  ❞  A brisk step forward, half-dipping her before righting her, direction sharp, but not dissonant to the new rhythm he’d set.  Curiosity thrumming in askance whether or not she could keep up.

Eyes zero on her features. ❝  But what do you think, dear stranger of mine?  ❞

#hullo hullo #ic. #tbt. #malfabulae #and dance they will #I had planned responding in a different way but he grabbed my hands and ruined my plans #main v. #ur character is v lovely her bio was v fun to read

[flameleads]

@malfabulae​​ got me to do some AU worldbuilding: not many came 'round this side of the district at night ; something about the witches & hellions making mischief in the late-hours. an unfamiliar head passed the threshold of the evening café , drawing attention from lounging occupants before being dismissed. a pair of silver hues follows him as he sits , subtle as blades. meeting his eye , painted lips willfully quirk into a demure , coy smile , her chin inclining as if in invitation. but anyone worth their spit would know the dangerous gleam in her gaze ; not much a woman at all... but then what?

When he entered this specific district of the city, Roy Mustang was not the upstart detective working towards a law degree. His badge stayed in his rather mundane one-bedroom apartment close to work while he walked through familiar alleys and side streets. Worn boots walked on pavement that hadn’t seen proper care in years while onyx eyes regarded the faces he passed. Some he knew---friends or acquaintances from his foster mother’s bar. They nodded to him in acknowledgement, but otherwise didn’t say a word.

It was better that way. The police force generally didn’t like witches, who returned the sentiment without hesitation. He left that part out on his application, nor did he ever wear clothing that revealed the tattoos on his arms he inherited from his late master. Though, that was a subject he didn’t dare bring up here either, not among the people who once knew him.

Not many knew he came from this district. Chris, a witch in her own right, raised him in the apartment above her bar not too far from his current location. She taught him everything she knew, all the tricks of her trade, before she sent him off to study more advanced magic. The person she put him in contact with, the man who eventually became his master, supposedly knew rare magic, and he wanted a protege.

Only tragedy followed afterward. To this day, Roy refused to speak of what happened. He wouldn’t even say what kind of magic he was capable of when he returned years later. But, Chris always had a way of finding information, and the fact that her son no longer needed to carry a lighter on him to feed into his smoking habit didn’t go unnoticed.

And the fact that parts of the city reported a man who could control fire, a feat previously thought impossible due to the element’s very nature.

Speaking of smoking, though, he could go for a cigarette right now. Roy pushed the thought aside as he entered an evening café. This establishment popped up while he was away, hadn’t it? Or, he merely never ventured inside. Several pairs of eyes lingered on him as he stepped through the threshold before they returned to ignoring him---well, all but one pair. When he sat down and mentally tried to convince himself to not order the strongest coffee he could find, he felt her gaze on him. Eyes like blades met those formed from obsidian before brows rose at her invitation.

Danger surely lurked behind such coyness. But, wasn’t that what he lived for? A playful smirk graced a boyish face as he rose from his spot and sauntered over to sit across from her. What could someone like her want with him? Surely he wasn’t that interesting. Or, had his heartbreaker reputation preceded him again?

“Did you want my attention?” he asked, tone just as innocuous as the grin he kept, “Because you sure as hell got it.”

#malfabulae #ic; light a fire | roy #ic; from the desk of roy mustang | answered asks [ unprompted ] #just a bunch of hocus pocus | au #[ I had so much fun with this aaaaaaaaa ] #[ urban fantasy au is a GO ]

[darkmagicattack]

@malfabulae​ said: “Thank you for keeping me safe.” // i must- we must-- protecc her! Protection starters

      No matter the stresses laid upon him, he shows more grace than many do in times of plenty. It is in those moments of panic and fear, that one can have faith in another, be ready to be picked up as soon as the moment of the fall begins. She’s in the safety of his arms, perfectly hoisted sideways where her head would be against his shoulder, his one hand holding her around her back and his other beneath the underside of her legs. When the darkness becomes the protective servant, bound in duty to guard and defend, it becomes a shield powered by love and dedication.

     The ground beneath them has crumbled down to what seems to be the deep blackness. But he is not fazed by the pull of gravity, effortlessly remaining suspended mid-air with the woman cradled close to ensure she’s in the stable grasp of his strong arms.

     Her voice is sound like a delicate tune from below his prominent jawline. Glacial optics shift to peer down at her with the teeniest of up-curve to his lips before his face regains its stern expression. He carries Verona through the cool breeze in flight within the temple. He reaches the exit and soon they're both met by the sunset that arrives with hues of reddish-yellow, dappling over the horizon

#sᴏᴜʟғᴜʟ ɢᴜᴀʀᴅɪᴀɴ (DARK MAGICIAN) #malfabulae #♥

[ryusxnka]

I SAID WE WOULD RETURN || kaen was not a social spirit, so to be subject to having to stand here... and wait... and have to personally hand over another one of their gifts to the young captain was more than enough to make them wither. stone embellished features are marked by a hue of kindling & when the other finally arrives they, with encouragement, offer the item in bandaged hands: just like the flower, a carefully forged token of colorful stone, only this time a wee drake. how thoughtful.

H e hesitantly acquires the stone,      perusing its entirety as if it was alive.

          He did not understand why this individual had come, not once, but twice, as he’s come to realize, to solely proffer him these exquisite gifts. He was vastly unmeriting, he fixatedly thought, of receiving  these forthright acts  of generosity.  ------  Perplexed,  he glances at their bandaged extremities,  wondering what could have happened for them to have obtained such injuries. They couldn't have ... “ Thank you.  ----  It’s beautiful. “

#malfabulae #Most others simply give me sweets #not stones

[dis--parity]

🥇 + i love seeing you and your writing on the dash ( even tho i'm not around lately kncjc ). all the detail and care you've poured into your 'children' is so wonderful to read / see !!

Like My Portrayal? // Accepting!

Ah!!! I,,, honestly don’t think I recognise you and I haven’t interacted with you but I would LOVE to one day!!! I really appreciate the kind words from you though, you come across to me as a rly good and sophisticated writer and I love love LOVE your style of prose!! thank you so much for the kind words!

#malfabulae #[The Voice From Beyond] OOC #[Ask And You Shall Receive] Ask Meme #;save #{ thank you!! maybe we can interact when we're both a bit less busy!!! }