#sleeplesswork

[sangsorrow]

// magma with @sleeplesswork and @eliestaru

[archivedsorrow]

send this emoji to ten lovely blogs, but instead of those chain things, it’s me sending till to give ivan a hug (( or smooch )) while i very slowly work on that ask …. sir deserves some affection 👉👈

( @sleeplesswork )

he'd been rubbing, scratching at the silvered brand of his name, all but seared into his wrist. he'd never liked it— doubted anyone did —always preferring long sleeves to cover it up. out of sight, out of mind, as he'd learned that saying, and while there was some truth to it, it didn't exactly stop the ocassional itch against the fabric of his clothes, and the way he felt the bumps upon his skin anytime he ran his other hand over it.

it was a bitter reminder of his origins, something that he hadn't even bothered asking hyuna about— he'd seen her own, and determined they likely didn't have the technology to get rid of these. it made him question this 'freedom' every so often; who was to say the segyein couldn't just snatch them back at any point, if they really wanted to?

ivan's wrist had been bleeding at this point, causing a small grimace to twist his features, before he firmly squeezed around the entirety of it to try and stop it from getting any worse. he hadn't exactly meant to break skin like that, causing small, crimson rivulets to gather around the edges of the brand, but he couldn't stop. he didn't even turn to look once light had permeated into the room, able to recognize the sound of those footsteps anywhere.

it was, perhaps, the first time where he'd struggled to put on a smile for till. raven hair obscured the frown that further darkened his visage, more reminiscent of the gloomy boy he once used to be. or perhaps one that he still was, beneath all those fake laughs. he didn't know what till wanted, and for once, he didn't... particularly care to bother him about it.

if only he'd lifted his head, he might've been more prepared for what followed. where slender arms had carefully wound themselves around ivan's shoulders, seemingly hesitating at first before squeezing lightly. “ ...? ” there was a faint, choked noise that caught in his throat, like he was attempting to voice something, but failing to do so. he was afraid to move. afraid that a single wrong move might suddenly ruin it all— he didn't hate this. in fact, just the opposite.

and he was afraid that till would let go. he didn't want him to. it's once that panic sets in his heart, that he awkwardly scrambles his arms upwards, desperately circling his fingers around the other's forearms, nails biting into skin.

don't leave. don't leave me. don't leave.

don't leave me.

[herotheism]

Anonymous said: ⭐️ ― convincing portrayal of a canon character 😍 ― admiring from afar

Shout-outs of Awesomeness | Not Accepting (for now!)

For the first one, @charmonys, @hatefueled, and @enkosmios immediately come to mind for HSR muses! @sangsorrow and @sleeplesswork also carry a lot for the IvanTill nation with their pretty convincing portrayal of their relationship.

As for the second, I think a couple of oc blogs and those with fandoms I'm not too familiar with fit here! Particularly, @godmarked, @furiaei, @herdoubt, and @braveryhearted!

[chaieos]

ruggie wants to use his unique magic on malleus . . . @sleeplesswork

SILENCE PREVAILS, PROLONGED AS MALLEUS stares down lion cub. child’s play, lilia would’ve said years ago. a smile bends fae lips, eyes sparkle with mirth and something more. fae bends down, bends at the knees, and places his hands upon his knees as he stares down — still even when he’s lowered himself to such heights. lilia had taught him to behave, riddle had taught him to be rude. “ i wouldn’t recommend such childish behaviour. ” 

an after thought, the furrow of brows, he no longer looks at ruggie, already staring past. “ it wouldn’t be in savanaclaw’s favour for you to attempt the breaking of school’ rules. ” 

however, malleus doesn’t say it but it would be amusing to see ruggie try, to see what ridicule he would put malleus through. a poor attempt at catching anyone’s attention. a sure way to get diasomnia’s ire upon the dorm. daring, though, this one is.

[myristicisms]

@sleeplesswork | vergil;;

things were progressing, certainly not fast, but at a steady rate — a dripping faucet someone had forgotten to turn off, left broken. with every passing day, it was hard to determine whether he was finally getting a footing with everything or if he'd been falling for so long that the nothingness was beginning to feel like floor. . . the headache pounding behind his eyes didn't seem to dampen, but the reception the once angelo received at devil may cry was getting… friendlier. it wasn't exactly the word he'd use, but his presence no longer set off alarm bells, and vergil knew he didn't deserve any more than that. whilst he was trying to better himself — more for dante and nero's sake, and perhaps v's — his efforts were solely to be noticed and appreciated by himself and no one more. yet lady had started greeting him when she stormed into the office to bark something at dante. his brother was throwing his arm over his shoulder, and vergil was trying hard not to be repulsed by the touch ( though it often ended in a fight when his foolish twin refused to let go ). there was also nero, his son; while the boy clearly strived for them to have more of a connection, they were at a standstill, truthfully when vergil was dragged to visit the man's home, he spoke more to his human companion ( girlfriend ), than his spawn. another that came to mind was miriam, the woman who'd been most greatly affected by urizen's actions; whilst she may have despised him more than mary, they forged common ground. she'd started to offer her endless supply of home-cooked meals as-well, presenting them to vergil as if he had the right to judge whatever she created. it took an embarrassingly long time for the man to realise she'd been trying to offer him a meal.

how amusing, he shouldn't be thinking about warm meals as the blood on his hands chills, while what's left on his tongue burns so hot it's all he can focus on. the mangled caucus before him matters not; there's nothing left of it to eat that doesn't involve the stomach where he can smell the human remains. still, he stands there, staring, starving. the pain twists and curls its way through his suddenly full stomach, and yet he feels starved… when was the last time he'd eaten ? v had a couple of meals during his measly month of living, but she wasn't vergil. he couldn't die from a lack of nutrition, but he felt the pain; his hollow insides hadn't started aching until today, though.

in an almost mindless haze, he returns to the devil may cry, watching his bloodied hand push open the agency's front door as if it belonged to someone else. the feeling of being puppeteered was so familiar that it was almost comforting; once alarm bells would have gone off, now it granted a momentary respite from forcing heavy limbs to function without fail. though, in such a stupor, the devil had failed to notice a familiar shard binder within the building's walls.

Silence is tranquility, something she's come to note for many years and yet it still never leaves her feeling any easier. Miriam knows she's welcome where she's sat, the unlocked door of the building further vindicating the fact that the familiar albeit empty space of the business had been a place of conversation and solitude alike throughout the years and yet it doesn't leave her any more calm to be there without one of the residents of the place present and yet still she patiently waits. It's another night she'd intended to waste her time idly chatting with one of the brothers, perhaps preparing dinner for the residents seeing as they won't eat anything of substance if she doesn't. It's ridiculous how fulfilled she truly feels, being able to provide for someone again no matter how minor it was, Nero being out of the house had taken a lot of adjustment and even then the absence of his presence, of not having nearly as many leftovers as she now often does, it's all a reminder of just how quickly time passes and oh how she grieves the past.

Whatever the case it hardly mattered, she has other matters at the forefront of her mind, like how dusty the bar of Devil May Cry is despite having just been taken care of a few weeks ago or how much progress the elder of the twins was slowly inching towards in bettering himself. It wasn't asked of her but Miriam, for her own piece of mind, had been keeping an eye on the man, blue was a color of calmness, loyalty and leadership and while Vergil appeared to be those on the surface, he was a tornado of control and over domination when she'd first had the displeasure of truly meeting the man as Urizen. He's made great progress in bettering himself, slowly opening up to the prospect of new things and foolish a thing as it is she can't help but find some sort of softness for the otherwise prickly and cold man. Perhaps it is her own foolish desires to see the best in everyone regardless of the sins that taint their fingertips or maybe it's the fact that he was much like herself as far as circumstances go, whatever the case she couldn't bring herself to truly hate the elder of the spawn of Sparda.

Blunt nails gently dig into her thigh, a pinching reminder of what she nearly lost and yet again she falls deep into thought, memories swirling like a whirlpool of disdain and sorrow at just how terribly her time spent under Urizen's control had been; Despite being able to walk around again with hardly any issue, there still lingered the after effects of not maintaining her glyphs, her energy still sapped away and it's irksome how powerless she is as her body fully recovers many months after the fact. It's a miracle for her to be sat in the familiar building as she is just as it's a miracle for her to be able to witness a familiar figure stumble inside. She almost cracks a joke to him, the beginnings of a smile swiftly falling to concern as she stands and paces to the blood covered man. “ Vergil- ” She speaks up, voice uneasy as she holds a hand out in offering, not wishing to bother him with an unwelcome touch.

[altarfates]

*barks at idia*

begrudgingly lifts up his ipad and presses play. a remix of dogs barking is played on a loop. if communication was this easy someone should have told him in advance.

[paramythas]

𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃

@sleeplesswork asked: *mercury glares at neo*

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐎 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 an unimpressed look. If Mercury has beef, she's got a whole herd of horned friends she can send his way, free of charge —

After all, it's not as if anyone would miss him.

[annjiru]

for angeal's birthday weiss will… do nothing. sorry ! he doesn’t know what a birthday is !!! but I’ll give the handsome guy a smooch on the cheek 💕

he blinks in surprise before sheepishly running his fingers through his hair. don't worry, he appreciates the birthday wishes - he's just a bit speechless, is all !