Sweet Seals For You, Always
NASA
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RMH
hello vonnie
we're not kids anymore.
macklin celebrini has autism
Cosimo Galluzzi
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Discoholic 🪩
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Origami Around
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EXPECTATIONS
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cherry valley forever
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
The Bowery Presents
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
JVL
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@unlore
#UNLORE; a mutuals only rp blog featuring various original characters. beware extensive usfw content, triggering subjects, weirdness + depravity. no drama space. CURRENT FOCUS: rosie, cross, ankha!
CARRD / ART / PLAYLIST / MEMES
muse list + tags:
tedi would gladly have a competition with a brick wall. right there, right then.
she scrunches her nose in disbelief. " can't be true. you must've fucked at least one person you didn't like before. "
cross' question is loaded. why does tedi fuck people she doesn't like? self-hatred? lack of options? - sexuality is, after all, not something she could've chosen for herself.
" 'cause i like sex. "
cross considers it. " sometimes i fuck a person and then decide i don't like them later. "
they always seemed fine at the time, though. it's just that some people are better when you haven't really had the opportunity to talk to them that much, and spoil it after more conversation.
tedi's answer is confusing. deeply so. since, really,
" but there must be loads of people who want to fuck you. you're really hot. "
they can't all suck.
@unlore | continued from ☾
He's such a treat, isn't he? Splayed out, offered to her like this. Like a gift.
Callisto nods, pressing a kiss, and then a bite to his thigh - soothing the spot with her tongue.
"I've got you, baby."
She pulls away slightly, but only to grab the swatter she'd set aside to offer a sharp swack at his drenched folds, and then his stiff cock.
"Tell me what else you want, baby." She murmurs. "You want me to spank your cock while I finger your ass? You want me to stretch your ass wide and pin your nipples while I suck your cock? I need a little more direction on what more means, gorgeous."
Callisto doesn't, actually, but it's fine to try and make him speak coherently right now.
@unlore | continued from ☾
Zetta hadn't really been thinking about this when she'd gotten dressed to go out. Hadn't expected to run into Cross again - so she hadn't exactly picked this top for how easy it was to get off, simply for how good it made her small boobs look.
(Which is great, actually).
She's about to pull it over her head when Cross pulls out a fucking knife and slices through it like butter. Zetta's bare chest is exposed now, since it's not the sort of thing you wear a bra under, and she looks at Cross with a mix of heat and bewilderment. "I liked that top." Is what she says first, before dragging Cross in for a kiss. "But fuck, that was so hot."
Cross doesn't apologise: in their opinion, they had been entirely justified. Besides, in the next moment Zetta is kissing them and they're stowing the knife back wherever it came from so that they can reach up and squeeze Zetta's breast with one hand, using the other to unzip their pants and clumsily strip them off.
They have to pull back for a second to whip their own top off - no bra under that one either - but in a second they're back against Zetta, kissing at the side of her neck as their chests press together.
"You're so fucking hot," Cross tells her then, pulling back to meet her gaze. "I really want to fuck you again."
@unlore | continued from ☾
Evelyn laughs out loud when he kicks her - he can't hear it, of course, but the mirth on her face is clear. They settle again, and Evelyn extends her hand to rest against his thigh for a moment.
<Like being your secret.> She tells him - which is not quite what he'd said, but it's close enough. Besides, they both know she's his in every way that matters, even if neither of them have been brave enough to name it yet. Evelyn leans over, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. <Fel plus Evie 4 ever.>
Fel snorts at her stupid Fel plus Evie 4 ever, though there's something fond in the grin that follows that can't be denied. They don't exactly need to have a whole conversation about it for them both to know what's there, and this is one of those times where it feels especially present. <Dumb,> he signs affectionately, <Dumbass 4 ever.>
He sticks his tongue out at her, then dissolves into another bout of laughter. It's fun to mess with her, sue him. <You bad secret. People always seeing you. Thousands. Maybe I'm secret.>
@unlore | continued from ☾
"Ah, no, baby, of course I love them."
It's just - they're everywhere, and they're irritating Billie's sensitive nose a little bit. It's nice, though, to see Vega's apartment such an explosion of colour. It makes her think of Bella, a little bit.
In any case, Billie doesn't want to be the one to point out that dealing with them all once they start dying will be a hassle. She already hates that plaintive look on its face.
"Tell me, which ones are your favourites?"
Vega's not even sure what got it onto this in the first place: it had been reading one of those magazines, and suddenly it had seemed incredibly important, and maybe this was just one of those things where its brain was working wrong in some way, but -
She glances around between the vases, biting distractedly at the tips of her fingers while she thinks.
"I think I like this one, with the peonies. I like the colours." It's mostly peachy tones, but with some darker pinks and reds amongst them. Pretty standard, but nice. "Lilies seem very popular."
@unlore | continued from ☾
Tate lays flat on the floor, blinking up at her face - haloed by the light above them, which is really not helping his assumption that he might be dying.
"Are you sure?"
A slow blink. It does hurt, but it's offset some by the way her fingers brush over his forehead to fix his hair.
"Yeah." There's a throbbing just over his eye, but soon enough it'll heal. He just has to wait.
A small smile graces Rosie's features for a moment, albeit followed by a look of light admonishment. "Yes, Tate, I am sure. You would not doubt an experienced healer such as myself, hm?"
Her thumb traces the point of impact ever so softly, though there's not yet any flow of magic through the touch. She could heal him in a moment, technically speaking, but it seems rather pointless in the circumstances. She's not one to waste magic.
She does, however, reach into his mind to soothe the pain, taking it and wrapping it up in herself until it seems far from him. "Better?"
Azrael has felt the warmth grow between themself and Izemrasen the way a breeze stirs a stray spark into a raging fire. Their attraction is no longer purely physical, and perhaps it never was. Azrael has enjoyed his intelligence, confidence, and ambition from the moment they met him. His stunning good-looks are a mere bonus. And he certainly cannot hide his own feelings from their keen eye.
It amuses them to no end that he chooses to exercise such prudence even when the two of them are alone - secure in his locked and warded home. Or that, excuse or not, he claimed to shield them from the back-stabbing world of council politics.
"However will I thank you for your protection?" Azrael smiles, beckoning him back towards the bed.
Izemrasen hums, coming right to the edge of the bed and leaning over to hover close to Azrael, one strong arm supporting him as he teases them. A mere inch from their lips, he smiles, eyes glittering with half-suppressed mischief. "I am sure you will think of some way, a clever thing like yourself."
Truth be told, they are safer here than almost anywhere else; if he were to express himself freely, this would be the place. It likely says more about him that he remains reticent than anything else.
"You always seem to find a way to please me," he says, and leans in to catch them in a languid, unhurried kiss.
"I would be inclined to agree."
The hand at his back is warm, and comfortable, so Barty leans into it a touch. Rosie won't mind his enjoying the attentions of another - certainly not in something so innocent as this.
"I am. I always find parties like this can oscillate between too boring and political and too light and frivolous, but I find myself leaning towards the latter easily tonight. And yourself? Or," a wicked grin, since they both know he's fishing for compliments. "Is dancing with me the highlight of your evening"?
"Now," and his voice is a warm rumble, accompanied by a sly little smile as Barty so brazenly seeks his approval, "It would be quite indelicate of me to disappoint the others by declaring our dance to be the favourite, would it not?"
His words nonetheless seem to imply that he would call their dance the favourite, if he were to be forced to answer. He doesn't need to say it one way or another, really.
"I do have certain relationships to maintain, you understand." Izemrasen's fingers skate across Barty's back, his dark eyes sparkling with some almost-mischief, as if they share a secret between them. "Alas, these things are political, after all."
Oh damn. For a second, Callisto is convinced he’s actually about to get naked, so it’s a bit of a relief that he’s not.
“Yes, sir.”
Callisto steps to his side - for all her impertinence, she does recognise that being asked to participate in this sort of thing is an honour. Plus, magic is not something she likes to joke about. Match in hand, Callisto stoops to light the candle that Izemrasen has indicated, following the order until she’s back at his side, waiting to see what the next step is. She’s not so foolish as to think thats all she will need to do.
“So, what’s the purpose of this ritual?” She asks quietly - probably should have asked before, but also it probably wouldn’t have stopped her from saying yes.
He half watches her as she completes the task, a tome open in one hand as he reads through the pertinent passage again. He steps toward the centre of the circle, where they have placed a shallow bowl in which offerings will be set, and gestures her to follow closely.
"The ritual will draw the spirits of the forest close to us," he explains evenly, as if that wasn't a reasonably dangerous thing to do even in the best of circumstances, "And I will be able to question them. I have been reliably informed that the runaway spent some time here, communing with them."
And thus Izemrasen will track them down - or take one more step towards doing so, at least. "Now, place the offerings into the bowl."
"Wanting and asking doesn't give you the right to truth." as much as he believed that, he did also have to agree with her that if she was willing to offer a truthful answer for a truthful answer, that was quite reasonable, and also quite intriguing. "Okay, I accept answering in exchange for your answers." The amount he could trust her currently felt quite little, but he could discover much even from her lies. At the very least, he'd discover which questions she was unwilling to answer.
Sang was no lie detector. He had no magical ability to tell what was a lie from a truth, could not hear the stuttering of heartbeats nor read body language well enough to immediately tell. He could, however, search the facts in visions later. He also hoped he wasn't an entirely gullible fool. So, when she answered, he was inclined to believe her.
"Perhaps that is good. To not be forced into a purpose allows you to find your own fate." and what a fate she has chosen! "I was a cruel experiment, too. Maybe we are not so different, you and I." especially with the amount he's been agreeing with her so far... "Corpses sewn together, and souls bound to animate it. My experiment went wrong, and a small fragmented soul joined with an innocent one. The son of Mara, if you know the tales."
"Perhaps," she conceded, though the bitterness had hardly faded from her expression. It was difficult - to be created so strange and then cast adrift. For a long time she had thought it would have been better to have been given some purpose, to know what it was she was for, but there was something to be said for freedom of purpose. Even if she hadn't had much of a choice in her life for a long, long time, she did have it now.
They certainly had their similarities, didn't they? That only served to make Rosie more curious - and whether that was a good or bad thing was entirely up to interpretation.
"I have heard such tales in passing only; I am not overly familiar. I am quite intimately aware of the difficulty of souls joined or fragmented, however, as well as their binding." There was much she would know - much she wanted to ask, some of it likely quite unsavoury. Still. One thing at a time. "Tell me; how do you differ from what you were supposed to be?"
its bed time but also 👀 its wild rosie thoughts time
The pointed set down of Izemrasen's pen only makes their grin wider.
"Well, see? Aren't I just helping you grow and learn more about yourself? A public service is what this is."
Now, that's a stretch.
Demi edges so that they're perched on the corner of his desk, fingers laced over one knee.
"Perhaps I am in need of some expertise. Some expertise only a man like yourself is able to provide."
A public service? He thought not. A public nuisance, possibly.
But they were just trying to rile him up, he knew. It would give them some satisfaction to get a rise out of him, and he was quite determined not to let that happen. He was familiar with such little games.
So he ignores it, watches them perch on the corner of his desk as though they own the place.
"Get to the point, Demi. What is it that you so desperately need from me, that no one else could possibly provide?"
"Come oooooon-" the dragged out o-sound became gurgled in Ronan's throat, "with a normal gun you can stand, like, 50 meters away! How big is your damn sabre? Or - wait - don't tell me you're slicin' an' dicin' bullets mid-air?" because he'll believe her if she said she could. And he didn't think he could adore her anymore than he already did!
He hummed, "Plus, you can run outta bullets, but with a sabre unless it breaks you're good, right? Gotta have the stamina in your arms, though? You got the muscles for it?" he dared to reach out to feel her bicep, wondering if she had the strength to rival his own.
The reaper snorted, "That'd be a sick idea. I know some witches an' shit who could totally help you. Maybe make it voice-commanded or somethin' so no accidents happen, huh?"
"That shit's totally not possible," she insisted, shook her head. "Not unless you're, like, a demon or some shit. And I've never even met a demon who could do that." She was just, you know. Speculating. Thinking that some kind of demon probably could. Seemed pretty logical to her.
She grinned, however, and flexed for him. Most of the time the padding of her physique made it harder to tell she was as strong as she was, but now, putting on her little show - yeah, it was definitely obvious. "You got it, bud. I could sabre myself a mountain of corpses if I had to, y'know?"
Well, maybe not a mountain. A respectable hill.
"I could be a real hero with a magic sword, huh? They'd be writing sexy tales about me and shit." She wiggled her eyebrows. "That'd get the girls interested, huh?"
nothing about vega was fucking funny, but the comment about the wealth of advice it received from others was smile-worthy because yeah, people ( rogue included? no, not rogue included. ) were incapable of giving good advice, and it was amusing to know that vega had already come to that conclusion.
oh, there it went again ; her home singing itself a little song in order to draw attention to something new. this time around the security system wasn't to blame and instead it was the small touchscreen near the door chirping away, the screen itself letting rogue ( and guest ) know that the requested vehicle had safely arrived and was prepared to depart ' at their earliest convenience. '
" do you have cash? " rogue would ask, standing from her place at the table in one swift move. while she wouldn't go so far as to tell vega it was time to go, she assumed that the ability to recognize hints would have been a day one addition when it came to whatever code the other had going on, so the change of position paired with a question about what she may need to get home could serve as just that ── a hint.
vega could, fortunately, take a hint. truth be told, it was quite looking forward to being home, in its own space, able to unwind and in some way process the events of the evening - as far as that went when one wasn't human. it probably wasn't supposed to need to process things in the first place, technically speaking. but supposed was a real bag of tricks, when it came to vega.
it stood, tugging at its skirt to maintain some semblance of modesty, and gave a quick nod. " i do. thank you, again. for everything you've done tonight. " rogue didn't have to let her in, let alone dispense any kind of advice or act vaguely sympathetic to the whole ordeal. vega was acutely aware of the fact; did not take it for granted.
a handful of high-heeled steps took it back toward the front door, and it glanced over its shoulder toward rogue as it reached the exit. " i'll, um. see you again some time. " unfortunately for rogue, vega had been left with the impression that rogue could stand her company. probably should've been meaner.
