#constructive criticism is always welcomed!

[lacydaydream]

Soldier Boy x Reader

cw: porn with no plot, objectification, degregation, size kink (if you squint!), just Ben as a whole, and unprotected sex p in v (always wear protection!).

estelle yaps: okay, so this is my first piece of writting on here. yay! the soldier boy brainrot is so bad. if you have any requests or constructive criticism, my inbox is open!

word count: 569

“s’funny.” Ben grunts, his voice dangerously low next to your ear. His breath comes out in rough pants. His frame is pressed against your back, muscular chest pressing you into the wall.

His hands grip your hips, fingertips leaving bruises. He trusts into your weeping cunt, the tip of his cock hitting that perfect spot that always made you scream.

A yelp leaves your lips, legs shaking as your nails scratch down the wooden wall. Every movement he made was delicious. Even if you hated his guts, he was the best fuck of your life.

His cockiness wasn’t compensation for anything. He had size and skill. Just five minutes with him was enough to make you see stars. Every inch filled you to the brim, and he was a mean bastard, so he’d love to pull himself out nice and slow, only to slam back into you. Forcing you to feel every inch of him.

Ever since Butcher had brought him back to the motel you’d all been staying at, the two of you had been at each other’s throats. For the stupidest of things. Food left out of the fridge, the toilet seat up, or, in more recent cases, the idea of him being a douche bag.

“Swear ya hate me.” He tuts, slapping a hand down on your ass. Hard. “Yet, you always come for some cock, huh, pretty thing?”

All you can muster is a broken moan, the force of his trusts sending you into a whole new universe. Each thrust is rough, but god, you can feel every inch. Every ridge and vein as your greedy cunt welcomes him in.

Swears leaves his lips as he pounds into you from behind, finger tips leaving pretty marks. Faint shades of purple litter your skin in the shape of his hands. “Cock dumb little whore.”

His gaze drops down to where the two of you connect. His dick is covered in your slick, making his own mind feel floaty. You take every inch so perfectly. And he loves watching himself piston into you, only for your greedy cunt to suck him in every time.

Soldier Boy’s hand smacks your ass again, watching it jiggle. A grunt leaves his lips. The sinful noises falling from your lips only spur him on more.

His hand travels down from your hip, his rough hand moving to your tummy. Feeling himself inside you. An almost animalistic growl leaves his lips. His hand moves south, down to between your puffy folds. His skilled fingers find your clit easily. He coos softly as your hips stutter and you press back against him.

“Atta girl. You gonna gush that sweet pussy all over my cock? can feel her fluttering- squeezing me so tight.” His fingers rub tight circles against your clit, watching your ass jiggle each time his hips meet yours.

He feels you stutter against him, slumping forward against the wall. Your walls clamp down on his cock, squeezing him once more. With a long drawn out moan you release on his length, legs shaking under you.

“Good girl.” His praise is short lived as he roughly thrusts into you again, chasing his high. It only takes a few more thrusts into your squelching pussy before he’s shooting his load into you.

His pulls himself out, watching as his cum drips down your thighs. God, what a sight for sore eyes.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.”

[nekrosmos]

Cw: 18+ (MDNI), first time

Nikolai had thick fingers.

Which was a good thing, as there was no way that John would have been able to take him fully during the first weeks of their relationships. Someone more experienced than he was could have, but John needed time, needed gentleness and care.

When the two first shared a night together, back in John's Liverpool apartment, Nikolai had him shower, clean himself up as he prepared the bed. Clean sheets, a large, soft towel for him to lay on, and a tube of lube on the nightstand. He dimmed the light, a certain shyness still very much ingrained in a recently out of the closet Price. Nik understood, of course, and was happy enough to offer him the perfect setting, hoping to have his friend and lover relax. He knew that the captain was nervous. Excited, but nervous, and he wanted to make sure that John felt safe around him, no matter what.

When Price came out, slicked wet hair, skin red from the hot water and smelling like the most enticing thing Nik had ever smelled, all Nikolai could do was smile, the view so hypnotizing he almost forgot what they were here for.

Gently, he guided John, taking his hand, kissing it, kissing his skin, his face, his lips as he had him sit on the bed, then lay on his stomach as he climbed on top of him.

Nikolai wouldn't go too far with him tonight, that was their deal. Small steps, one at a time, as John grew accustomed to him and his own pleasure. 

So, Nik laid next to him, an eager hand running against the naked body of his most trusted friend, lips kissing his freckled shoulders while his fingers wandered lower and lower, making sure that John was alright, every step of the way.

He felt him tense up slightly when his fingers reached his entrance, caressing it slowly, carefully for a moment, while his dark eyes observed his partner for any reactions. John was flustered, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow, groaning when he felt Nik touch him.

Even then, with John's face almost fully hidden, Nikolai thought of him as the most beautiful thing he ever had the pleasure to have his hands on. The perfect shape of his body, his ruffled hair, the blue eyes peaking through their hiding spot to glance at him from time to time, and the way he reacted to his every touch. It was intoxicating. Nikolai placed a kiss against John's forehead, his free hand running through his hair before grabbing the small tube, opening it and spreading the cold liquid against his fingers.

From the corner of his eye, he could see John's hand squeeze the pillow he was laying against. Nik smiled again as he placed more kisses against his skin, this time his back, almost as freckled as his shoulders were.

"We can stop any time, John. I won't hurt you."

This got a reaction out of him, John's head turning and glancing at Nik, his cheeks flushed with red.

"I trust you, Nik. I'm just nervous." 

Nik nodded, moving himself up so he could kiss John’s face again, and then his lips, both of them eager, hungry as Price groaned against him, leaving him almost breathless, until Nik began to push a finger inside of him, the groans replaced by moans as they kept kissing sloppily. 

The resistance against Nik’s finger was natural, the heat of John’s body almost intense against his fingertip. He was slow, gentle, listening to every single sound coming out of John, ready to move back if something was wrong. 

He was barely a knuckle deep when John tensed up again, Nik immediately stopping himself. A few more kisses and sweet praises whispered in his ear and John’s body relaxed, his hole opening up as Nik pushed deeper. 

The way John’s body was able to take his finger was beautiful. Nik could feel his entrance stretch around him, but slowly give in, soft muffled moans coming from John as he was experiencing something new, something intimate and special that Nik knew he had been craving for a long time, perhaps even without realizing. By the time he had pushed his finger as deep as he could inside of him, John was fully relaxed, limbs limp as he laid on the bed, head in the pillow he was holding. 

The moans and groans echoed louder when Nikolai began to withdraw his finger before pushing it back inside, making sure to make it as pleasurable as he could for John. His hips began to move as Nik’s hand moved, looking for friction against the bed, his cock probably hard under him, although Nik wanted to wait a little longer before touching him there as well. For now, he wanted John to experience the pleasure of penetration, relax into it and allow himself to discover what he liked. It was going well, judging by the swears now leaving his lips. 

“Fuck, Nik, That’s already so much.” 

“Da, but you will be able to take more, in time.” 

This got another swear out of John, and another one as Nik pushed deeper again, fucking him so thoroughly with just a single finger, his thighs shaking ever so slightly under Nik’s touch. 

This continued until Nikolai could feel John getting closer, his body heating up and his moans getting more desperate, hole fully relaxed around the intrusion. 

So, Nik rolled on to his side, guiding John to do the same so that his free hand could wrap itself around his hardened cock, slick with pre-cum and begging to be touched. The sounds escaping John’s lips were outright sinful, a perfect melody to Nik’s ears as he dragged his palm up and down his shaft, thumb playing with John’s tip as he quickened the thrust of his finger inside him. 

It didn’t take long for John to finish, hot white seed spreading inside of Nik’s palm and on the towel he had laid under him earlier, body tensing up for a second before giving up, the bliss of his orgasm spreading through him, unable to form a coherent sentence as he rested against Nik’s bigger body, shielding him, protecting him as he felt John’s ecstasy coursing through him. 

John was breathless, his skin burning hot, cheeks red and lips parted as he tried to compose himself. 

It was getting difficult for Nikolai to ignore how hard he himself had become, his cock pressing against John’s ass under his sweatpants. 

One day, he would take John, fully. But not tonight. Tonight was not about him, but about John and his pleasure. 

Nik smiled as he pressed another kiss to John’s temple, then his cheek, stopping right under his ear lobe, the skin of his neck sensitive to his touch. 

“You did so good, John. I think you could take another finger, da?” 

The shiver that ran down John’s spine was all the answer he needed, as he leaned back to grab back the tube of lube. The night would be long, and he would make sure that John enjoyed every inch of his fingers as he basked in the bliss of his pleasure.

[eyeheartboobiez]

-> 𝗃𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝖽 𝗑 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

-> 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖺 𝖺𝗎!

-> 𝖺/𝗇: 𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖽𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾'𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 4!! 𝗂 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗒𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗆𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝗆𝖺𝗈. 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗂 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗎𝗎𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗈𝖼 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅 𝗐/ 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗀😭🙏🏿

liked by cass.cain and 3,190,751 others

@y/nforeal: me n the bestie🤞

View all 14,176 comments

user1: “bestie” girl just tell it like it is

user2: she dropped the brother and picked up his sister instead we love to see it

user3: can someone explain this in pop culture terms?

⤷ user4: this is like if princess diana went and hooked up with hayley kiyoko after she divorced prince charles

⤷ user3: girl WHAT😭😭 (i completely get it now)

user5: THE DUO WE NEEDED 🙏

@/cass.cain: heyy mamas

⤷ @y/nforeal: hey girlie🙈

⤷ user6: LETS GO LESBIANSSS

user7: this post alone single handedly set feminism forward by a good 50 years

Y/N Y/LN and Cassandra Cain take a Friendship Test | Glamour

How well do these two friends actually know each other? Singer Y/N Y/LN and songwriter Cassandra Cain share first impressions, shower each other in complemets, and more to prove they're as thick as thieves.

Be sure to check out their latest single Kill Bill out now!

8.9M views October 8, 2022

Tell us how you met Cassandra.

"Gosh, where do I even start?" Y/N huffed out, trying to collect her thoughts.

"I mean we always hung around the the same crowd, you know, with her making music and me in the booth all the time. Officially though, I'd say we met at the billboard music awards back in 2020."

A sentimental look plastered itself on her face as she continued, "She had won for songwriter of the year, and when I saw her at an after party later that night, I knew was that I just really wanted to congratulate her more than anything."

Grinning at the fond memory, Y/N wrapped up the thought, "So, I sought her out from across the room and basically stroked the shit outta her ego, and yeah. The rest was history."

----

What all can you tell us about Y/N?

"I think a better question would be what I can't tell you." Cassandra let out a short chuckle at the comment.

"No but seriously, there's just so much to like about her, y'know?" Her eyes drifted behind the camera towards the singer, a smile blossoming in her face at the action.

"For sure, if I were to tell you anything about her, I'd talk about how giving she is."

Looking back at the cameras, Cassandra said with her full chest, "She'd give anybody the whole world if she could, really."

----

Exercise One: Stare Into Each Other's Eyes for 2 Minutes

"I don't think I've ever stared at you for this long before." The vocalist confessed.

"All the more reason to now."

The artists giggled as they stood hand in hand, staring into the eyes of someone who understood them better than anyone else. Both felt as though they were looking into a mirror, when really it was just the eyes of a friend.

"You have really soft hands." Cass confessed, breaking the short lived silence.

"Thanks, it's the new body butter I've been using." The pair continued to stare into each other's eyes, with the songwriter casually swiping her thumbs across Y/N's hands.

Eyes gazing into the ones before them, Cassandra couldn't help but mentally curse her brother for being so stupid.

The past few weeks had been full of nothing but damage control after Jason's mishap at the club last month.

Cass had been the main one wiping away tears and distracting the singer from all her problems, whisking her away from the avalanche of pain.

For years now, she had dreamed of being in her brother's place, practically praying for his downfall. But now that she was here, she couldn't help but feel selfish.

Regardless of her feelings, Cassandra knew better than to use her brother's slip ups to her advantage.

She knew for a fact that Jason loved her. He did. How could she just swoop in and and pretend to play hero knowing that?

The entire situation was ridiculous, almost laughable even. She couldn't help but scoff at the irony of it all. Despide the artist's mental turmoil, the girl in front of her didn't seem to have a clue in the world.

“What's so funny?" Y/N accused teasingly, "I wanna laugh."

The silence was broken as Cass's chuckles continued to fill the room. Pulling herself together, she responded, "Nothing hon, nothing's funny."

"You sure? Because it looked hilarious." Jokingly, the singer continued to taunt the artist before her.

Even though Cassandra was never a woman of many words, Y/N on the other hand, always seemed to have a way of keeping the mood light.

A timer went off in the room, signaling the end of their two minutes. While Y/N was quick to break her gaze away, the other musician's eyes seemed to linger in a way that would leave most viewers speculating.

----

Exercise Two: Compliment Each Other

"Looks like we're back where we started," Y/N commented, "me stroking the shit out of your ego."

The remark made the Wayne double over in laughter, almost dropping the pen and notepad in her hands as she went to clutch her stomach.

"Aight now, it wasn't that funny."

As their giggles died down, a comfortable silence filled the room as Y/N and Cassandra started jotting down what they loved most about each other. After just a few minutes, both were ready to begin.

"Who wants to go first?" Asked a producer behind the camera.

Instantly, Y/N spoke up, "I'll go first, for old times sake."

"So," She stared off, "You're insanely observant, like you can literally read anybody like an open book. I love how independent and confident you are. You're very supportive, you're always listening to what I have to say. And last, but not least, I love how close you are with your family.

Once again, the grin on Cassandra's face never seemed to falter.

"Starting off, I love your smile. I admire how you put so many of your emotions into your work, and how you wear your heart on your sleeve. I love how when we first met, you took it upon yourself to learn sign language so for me."

The singer's eyes started to become glossy at the thought. Back when Cassandra was nonverbal, Y/N was more than determined to find a way to communicate with her.

Pausing before she continued, Cass took in a shaky breath, "The last thing I put on here, is that I admire your strength above all else."

"-We talking about the same Y/N here?"

A handful of soft chuckles could be heard from both Cassandra and Y/N, with the former still trying to keep her emotions in check. The statement, while so simple, seemed to be absolutely nerve wracking.

"After everything you've been through this past month, your strength and resilience are something that I really admire." A pregnant pause settled within the room, the light atmosphere dying with that last statement.

Although no words were being exchanged, a conversation was being held between the two as their eyes remained locked with each other.

The only noise that could be heard was the cameraman signaling it was time for the next segment of the video.

----

Exercise Three: Hug For One Minute

Before the tears could escape her eyes, Y/N quickly stepped in to her friend's arms, shielding her face from the camera. Cass was swift to embrace her, hands rubbing soft circles onto her friend's back.

The silence still remained heavy. If watchers listened closely, they could hear a faint you okay? spew from Cass's lips, leaving viewers beyond thankful for whoever was woking the boom mic.

With her head still buried in Cassandra's chest, Y/N gave a slight nod, indicating that she was fine.

One of the crew members eventually called time and the intimate moment was finished as soon as it began.

The pair caught each other's eyes and quickly broke away, once again, silently communicating the words they couldn't say.

Clearing her throat, Cassandra stepped back. Not knowing what to do with herself, she crossed her arms.

Suddenly becoming much more aware of her surroundings, she looked back towards the camera with her best award winning smile.

As if she had finally come back to reality, Y/N attempted to appear as relaxed as possible as well, silently praying that her mascara didn't run.

"So, any last words?"

To give the star a chance to find her voice, Cass spoke up, "Well, this was a great experience, and I'm glad we got the chance to come here and test our friendship."

Knowing they had to wrap up, Y/N went onto conclude the video, "Thank you so much Glamour for having us here today, and make sure to check out our new collab Kill Bill, which is out now. Bye!"

"See ya!"

— COMMENTS —

@/yn'scoochiehairs: i js know jason is tighttt rn💀

⤷ @/gilmoregirly: fr he polly punching walls n shit😭

@/gojoluvr: am i going crazy or was somebody crying towards the end??

@/cassie's_girl: i feel like im interrupting something here🧍‍♀️

@/livingrosetoy: the way cassandra kept touching y/n to comfort her plsss i can't take this anymore😭

@/jasonsmellslikeboucedatass: j*son bro keep playing w/ my girl and see what tf happen🤣🤣😐

@/igthatcuntgettingeaten: the way cass kept looking for her approval🥹

@/magiclizard: OUUU JASON WHEN I CATCH YOU

@/delulupills: everybody in the comments is talking about jason like can't we just focus on the two people who are actually in the video🤦‍♀️

⤷ @/ynstan4life: no that nigga need to die like today

@/cassandra'strophywife: i need bofa them like so bad like it's not even funny

a/n: lesbian cass save me.. lesbian cass.... save me lesbian cassandra...

[pomegranateee]

Crawling back to you.

you can tell I was listening to Cardigan and do I wanna know while writing this. ( hoziers cover! )

Listening to Kipps talk is the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard, people tend to cover their ears and cry for it to stop. So it didn't seem so exciting when you ended up having to spend time with him in the archives today. You only went to help Bobby with some research for the new case you got assigned. Walking around searching for files and books, staying close behind Kipps seemed like hell until you heard Kipps talking and walking towards a group of three in the archives. “Well done, Tony. Doing your research before the job this time.” Kat turns to you upon hearing Kipps “Hmm. Is it Tony? Or is he Andrew now?” you pop out behind Kipps, honestly just curious to see what the big fuss was about. “Keep it down, Kipps. This is a library, not a braying gallery for bellends.”  you drowned out the rest of the conversation. Staring at the boy in the group, Lockwood and co. Only taking your attention off the boy when you suddenly heard the loud sound of a rapier being thrown up to the ceiling. And the sight of a smirking boy you could only assume to be Anthony Lockwood looking quite proud of himself to Kipps in his place. Aside from The blast to Kipps's ego, everyone was all right. Leaving the boy with glasses and the girl to scramble to get their stuff and leave. As the three of them walked away, you couldn't help but turn back around to have one last look at the boy. Only to find he was looking back at you, before quickly turning back to his friends. Ignoring the lingering feeling of your eyes on his back. 

When your supervisor sent you out to the Fittes furnaces to drop off some files, you didn't think much would happen. A walk, maybe some boring paperwork, and then walk back home. That was all. So when you entered the lobby of the Fittes furnaces and were met with those familiar curls you saw a couple of days ago, you assumed it was fate. Pushing that thought aside, you strategically tried to figure out a way to get this boy to have a conversation with you, without seeming creepy of course. “...You're the guy I saw at the archives. Something about a braying gallery for bellends?’ the boy quickly turned around. Pushing his glasses up, looking you up and down “ I believe that was directed at Kipps.” you chuckled “ I don't blame you. He tends to have that effect on people. Annoyance.” the boy gave you a small smile and went back to whatever he was doing. You didn't pay much attention, perhaps you came off as rude for interrupting him, but you didn't care. You were desperate to talk to him. “ I don't think I was told your name.” “It's George. I would have assumed Kipps would have gossiped about it to you by now.” you smiled “He might have, I need a face to remember the name.” 

The next time you saw George was during a case. A small home with a possible type one. It was supposed to be a simple case. So when you were running to grab your rapier in the middle of the case and accidentally ran into george. It was a bit of a startle. You crashed into him, making you fall to the ground, along with him. Ignoring your bloody hand from the fall you looked up. “George? “ he looked up, scurrying to grab his stuff. “oh, it's you again” ‘What are you doing here?” you asked. Taking the hand he extended offering to help you out.  “I'm on a case, which seems you are as well- your hand is bleeding” You looked down at your hand, the blood dripping onto the hardwood floors of the house. “Ah. I must have cut my hand on my rapier when I fell.”   you walk to your bag, grabbing some gauze you packed specifically for moments like these. You let out a hiss while applying pressure to the wound. “I'm sorry. I didn't see you- here.” George reached out for your hand. The gauze was filled with blood at this point. Painting your hand and his with your blood. The smell of the metallic liquid making you queasy. “ You're turning white,” George says looking up at you. “I'm fine, I'm just-” you glanced down at your hand “I'm no good with blood.” he gave you an odd look “You're an agent but you can't handle blood?”  you both chuckled. George noticed the gauze was completely useless at his point, with more blood than cotton. “Got any more?” you remembered back to all the times you had to use your stuff because Bobby made a stupid mistake and got injured during a case. “ I don't think so” George looked around, looking for anything to soak up the blood. “ uh- here,” he said, taking off his flannel, wrapping it around your hand.  After that day you and George seemed to bump into each other much more. Seeing each other in stores, sidewalks, the archives. Always stopping to talk to each other. Causing you two to just start planning to see each other. 

Portland Row was always a comfortable place. The smell of tea and the loud clanging of rapiers meeting each other was comforting to George. He sat on the kitchen table, mixing the spoon in his tea. The oat milk carton sitting in front of him. He recently started drinking his tea with oat milk due to your suggestion. At first, he was appalled that tea could be made with anything but whole milk, but he came around to it. “Oatmilk?” questioned Lockwood.  “I know. I should be thrown into prison, but I quite like it.” Lockwood chuckled and grabbed the milk carton. Putting it back in the fridge. “ me and Luce were planning on goi-” George interpreted him. “I can't. I have plans, I'm going to the archive soon.” Lockwood gave him an odd look “By yourself? Won't you be lonely?” George looked back down to the newspaper he was reading. “I won't be alone.” Lockwood sat down in front of George. “... you know you've been out with that fittes girl a lot lately. Are you sure you're not planning on leaving us, George?” George scoffed. “ and deal with Kipps? I'd rather you shoot me.” Lockwood chuckled”.... She seems eager to know you.” “She is a very eager person I suppose.” Lockwood rolled his eyes. “ that's not what I mean... She seems to enjoy your company. And from what I can see you enjoy hers.” George folded his newspaper and sat it down on the table. “.. I don't like what you're implying.” Lockwood laughed and smiled at George” All I'm saying is that... You should notice the way she looks at you as if she's planning the wedding in her head already.” “Don't be ridiculous.” 

“ Do you like me?” you nearly choked on your drink hearing George say that. Whipping your mouth and keeping your composure you respond.” that's awfully blunt” George shrugged” I suppose. But you're avoiding the question.” you and George are currently sitting on a blanket. Sitting upon a hill, giving you two a nice view of London. You decided to take the fool approach. Taking a sudden interest in the strawberry in your hand rather than George.” of course I like you, George, you're a good friend.” George suddenly took the strawberry from your hand. Placing it back on your plate. “That's not what I meant. If you like me, then I think we should stop meeting up like this.”  your heart dropped down to your stomach. Not only afraid of not seeing your crush again, but the thought of losing a friend seemed so awful to you. “ Where is this coming from? George I do-” “I need a yes or no.” putting together all your courage.  You inevitably decided you'd rather lose George than force him to be with you, knowing he wouldn't want to.”...yes george. I do like you.” George gave you a look, not of disgust but of regret for what he was going to do. “...right then. I suppose I should get going then.” as George walked down the hill, you watched him. Leaving you sitting on a blanket. Two cups, two plates, food for two, but one person.

“For Christ's sake George. Get out of the house!” Lucy says watching a somber George look out the window. “What's going on with him?” Lucy said looking back to Lockwood. “ he messed up with the fittes girl and I suppose he's in mourning for what could have been?” George quickly looked back at the two of them. Sitting on the couch in front of him. “I am not in mourning!” “But you do miss her?” said Lockwood. That shut George up. Lockwood chuckled, “Do whatever you need to feel better, just don't dig yourself too deep.” Lockwood walked off to the kitchen leaving him and Lucy. After a while, Lucy got sick of George's sighs. “God george. Would you just tell the girl sorry! “ “I have nothing to apologize for,” he said, rolling his eyes. “ Well, you obviously like this girl. You like her enough to push her away I suppose. What I don't understand is why you won't let her in. She's a lovely girl! She's smart, she's funny. Are you truly so dense you can't figure out that you love her? All you've been doing is trying to find flaws in her so you have an excuse to leave! Or maybe you're just scared. Scared you found no flaws. And scared of how she makes you feel.” Lucy got up and went into the kitchen. Letting George sit in his thoughts. Just before Lucy could make it to the kitchen, she heard the loud noise of the front door slamming. Lockwood peeped his head out the kitchen, seeing George's shoes were gone “Where is he going?” Lucy walked into the kitchen “ Ever seen the notebook?”

Georges heaving was all he could hear while he ran. The loud sound of his heart pumping was in his ears. He didn't even know he could run that fast. Running as fast as his legs could take him to your apartment. He got to your front door. The front porch light stinging his eyes. You've been haunting all of his whats-ifs. He didn't even know what he would say to you if you even opened the door. He knocked on the door. Trying to control his heavy breathing. When you opened the door, he stopped. He didn't know what to say. He assumed the words would come to him, like those films you two would watch together.  A part of you knew what he was here for. You have missed him of course, but having him actually in front of you seemed so daunting.

“Crawling back to me, are you?”

“...it feels like that's all I've been doing lately.”

You smiled at him. “.. would you like to come in” George looked past you into your apartment. It seemed very tempting to go in with you. Go back to normal. But George didn't want to go back to normal. “I'm in love with you, and-..I'm sorry for leaving you there. I got overwhelmed and I-” you cut George ranting with a kiss. Pulling him in by the collar of his shirt. You somehow managed to get yourself to pull away, “ you don't need to apologize to me, George. I forgave you the moment I opened the door..now would you like to come in?” George must have still been in a state of shock. His eyes lingered on your lips.”... yeah. Yeah. I would like that.” you smiled and opened the door a little wider for him to walk in.

[chomfoolery]

hellooo every1… ctubbo art 4 u…

[sir-heichou-smith]

I had just finished a lil thing with poly!141 x fem!reader. However, I'm still new to the Tumblr posting mechanisms, and I accidentally deleted the draft I had saved 🤦‍♀️

Should anyone like me to rewrite it, I gladly will. Just know it wasn't very good lol, just a thought. Maybe once I get the hang of this more I can start turning them into actual fics.

[abandoned-quiche]

question for any and all monsters; if you were human, what soul type do you think youd be?

(ooc list so mod doesn't have to go look em all up)

HELLO !

IT APPEARS THAT, FOR ONE REASON OR AN OTHER, OR PERHAPS NO REASON AT ALL, YOUR QUESTION HAS FOUND ITS WAY TO ME.

WHAT A JOY !

SO!

"SOUL TYPES"!

IT HAS LONG BEEN DEBATED IN THE SCIENTIFIC COMMUNITY WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE THE CAUSE OF DIFFERENT COLORS OF SOULS IN HUMANS.

IT APPEARS TO, IN SOME WAY, RELATE TO THE PERSONALITY OF THE INDIVIDUAL, BUT IT IS UNCLEAR HOW.

I UNDERSTAND THAT,

ONE WAY OR AN OTHER,

IT HAS BECOME YOUR BELIEF THAT THESE ARE THE SEVEN "SOUL TYPES".

BRAVERY.

JUSTICE.

INTEGRITY.

KINDNESS.

PERSEVERANCE.

PATIENCE.

"DETERMINATION."

THIS IS NOT SO.

THOUGH,

I CANNOT BLAME YOU

FOR COMING TO THIS CONCLUSION

WITH A SAMPLE SIZE OF ONLY

EIGHT.

IN REALITY, THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS "SOUL TYPES".

THESE ARE MERELY

CHARACTER TRAITS

PRESENT IN THE SIX FALLEN HUMANS BEFORE FRISK.

MOST HUMAN SOULS ARE SOME SHADE OF ONE OF THE COLORS ABOVE,

BUT A HUMAN SOUL CAN COME IN JUST ABOUT ANY COLOR.

A BEAUTIFUL RAINBOW OF HUMANITY'S PUREST ESSENCE.

ISN'T THAT WONDERFUL?

. . .

AS FOR "DETERMINATION."

THIS SUBSTANCE IS PRESENT WITHIN ALL SOULS.

IT WAS DISCOVERED BY MY SUCCESSOR, DOCTOR ALPHYS!

SHE IS A WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL PERSON.

IF ONLY SHE COULD SEE THAT AS WELL.

. . .

I'D LIKE TO THINK, THAT IF I WERE A HUMAN, MY SOUL WOULD BE A NICE SHADE OF

PERIWINKLE.

NOT FOR ANY PARTICULAR REASON - I JUST LIKE THE COLOR!

. . .

THANK YOU

FOR THE QUESTION,

EVEN IF IT WAS NOT MEANT FOR ME.

IT IS ALWAYS

A DELIGHT

TO CONNECT WITH YOU ALL.

. . .

OH, AND MY APOLOGIES IF ANY OF MY TEXT IS HARD TO READ DUE TO THE COLORS.

I AM BEST SEEN IN THE DARKNESS!

[ichbinmeltdown]

The Triple Changers!

I tried a different shading technique for this one, I hope it helped somewhat ^^

[the-one-who-lambs]

Lamb design be upon ye. Some Lambert outfits for The Risen Lamb and the Fallen God: standard outfit, casual fleece, and wedding outfit.

[ur-local-cryptid-0]

Public service announcement to all my dear moots so all you lovelies know! If you guys reach out to me about any problem or boundaries, and I'm really really apologetic, it's not because you hurt my feelings or anything! I just want to be very polite and show that I care! If any of you have a concern, tell me and we'll work it out!

[effervescentmelody]

Day #11

Repost of day 11 of my art challenge. It was brought to my attention that in my original posting I used a skin tone for Kenji that was inappropriate and played into harmful stereotypes. This was not my intention. I apologize and will be conscious of these decisions moving forward.

[mad-hunts]

so... what if i told y'all that i wanted to make one of the theme's to barton's character basically be like the richard silken quote that goes 'how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it's some kind of murder?' as he slowly but surely becomes almost like the monster in frankenstein. so, he replaces every part of his body with other people's... disembodied ones (yeah... sorry, guys. i know it's a pretty messed up / gross concept 😬 )

and as a result, he essentially BECOMES one of his twisted creations?? because i originally decided to scrap the idea, but i've been thinking, maybe — just maybe — it could really help kind of give barton's dehumanization of himself a 'face' or physical manifestation and just exemplifies how disconnected he actually is from reality

[lorebird]

I really wanna use art fight as an opportunity to practice with fundamentals I’m struggling at. I’ve been in the pits of Unsatisfied With My Art for over 6 months now and it’s daunting to figure out where I should even begin? I know one thing I really want to improve on is my sense of scale and use of shapes, but I would really really appreciate outside suggestions/constructive criticism!! If anyone has input on what could make my art stronger I’d really love to hear

[1dont-really-know]

Unfortunately, I had to split the childhood chapter in half since it's getting to be way too long and I have to focus on the finals week that's starting next Monday, so I won't be able to write much if at all. I'll start writing again once it ends, but I'll probably save the second half of the chapter for a memory/flashback chapter.

Without further ado, here's the first half of Malva's childhood! 4422 words long! Enjoy ✨

~~

Malva remembers the day she was allowed to finally meet 'Leanor's friends.

She remembers how close of an eye her guards had on her, watching her every move as if afraid she was going to bolt into the forest the moment she had the chance. That was the main reason she was not allowed to go outside unsupervised, after all. She ran away and into the lush green paradise far too many times for Mother’s liking.

She remembers waiting anxiously near the entrance to the palace gardens, counting and and re-counting the numbers of petals of each flower growing from the bush next to her. What if they don't like me? She had asked herself, what if 'Leanor decides that she doesn't want to play with me anymore because her friends don't want to?

Looking back on it, she doesn't quite understand her thought process anymore. It had seemed so straightforward back then, so obvious that Maleanor would no longer want to spend time with her in favor of her friends.

Malva remembers how her fears were quieted.

She remembers 'Leanor's grinning face as she raced towards her, pulling her into a hug before she introduced her to her friends.

Levan, ‘Leanor had said his name was, a boy who seemed to be around 'Leanor's age, was the first of the two strangers to greet her. Malva remembers his gentle smile and calm disposition, and she remembers wondering how in the world someone like him would befriend her sister.

But then she saw the way 'Leanor had looked at him, and she understood that it was not a simple friendship that tied Levan and Maleanor together.

The second boy looked younger than both Levan and 'Leanor. He greeted Malva awkwardly, as if not quite sure how to address her. She remembers his eyes first and foremost; a pair of shining red that looked like sunrise over a raging sea, the hues shifting like the waves, magenta one second, then back to red, then to a mix of those two colors. His eyes were mesmerizing to watch, but Malva tears her gaze away from them before things turn awkward.

Malva had known of the boy with sunrise eyes before this, of course. The boy had been an orphan her mother had taken in, but she had yet to meet him prior to this.

What was his name again?

Ah, but she supposed she should introduce herself first.

"I am Malva Draconia," she had said, dropping into a curtsy once she remembered her lessons about manners, "second princess of Briar Kingdom, younger sister of Maleanor."

‘Leanor had scoffed at that, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. “You need not be so formal with them,” she had told Malva, nudging her towards the two boys, “they are my friends. I have told them of you.”

For some reason she, herself did not understand to this day, Malva had not thought that ‘Leanor would have talked about her to her friends.

Still, Malva smiles, “It’s nice to meet you regardless,” she had said.

The boy with sunrise eyes nods stiffly, while Levan just reassures Malva that it was fine.

What was the other boy’s name again? Malva can’t seem to remember, though she’s sure he had already introduced himself.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Levan’s eyes are kind. Malva had decided that Levan would be a wonderful partner for ‘Leanor right then and there.

°•°•°•°

In truth, the forest usually was not Malva's destination. It was just where they usually find her.

Looking at her reflection on the river’s surface, she adjusts her cloak, making sure no one could see her horns. Thankfully, with her technically being a hatchling, her horns weren't that hard to hide. Her tail had been bunched up to resemble a backpack under her cloak, hiding it from view. It is only once she's confident that she looks like any other fae and not a princess that she finally sets off.

Was this dangerous? Sure.

Will she get scolded if she was caught? Of course.

Would she care? Ehhh…

Her destination this time was a town not too far from the palace. The bustling streets would have overwhelmed her had it not been that she had been taught to be used to crowds at revels. He was here somewhere. She just needed to look for him.

A head of sunflower blond hair, far shorter than the rest of the humans, and ears too pointed to be those of a human.

There.

Altair, a half-human she had met during a revel.

Malva's friend.

Not an acquaintance, not a mere ally.

Her friend.

She grins brightly, weaving through the mass of people to get to him as quickly as possible. “Altair!” She greets, excited to see him.

“Finally got away from those guards, huh?” Altair grins back at her, giving her a pat on the shoulder before turning to the library. He raised his hand, trying to get hold of the door handle, but was much too short to reach it.

Malva snickers at his failed attempt, “same goes to you. Did your parents finally let you leave the cabin again?” she didn't have any right to laugh, however, as she herself was also too short to reach the handle. She was older than him, sure, but with his human heritage he was a bit taller than her and looked older than her as well.

They ended up having to wait for an adult to open the door for them.

°•°•°•°

“When do you think you’ll finally accept ‘Leanor’s proposals?”

Malva had invited Levan to tea not long after she had met him and his and Maleanor's other friend. This was a very important subject, after all, and first (or in this case, second) impressions were important. Levan needed to know that Malva is and always will be on Maleanor’s side.

The sudden question makes Levan choke on the tea he had been drinking. Malva just watches him, waiting for him to stop coughing and answer her question. “So? What’s your answer?”

Finally, after he has his breathing back under control, Levan looks at Malva, his jaw open in bafflement, “are you proposing to me in Maleanor’s stead? For Maleanor?”

Malva shrugs, taking another sip of her own cup of tea, “you seem to have a problem with answering Maleanor when she asks you to marry her, so I’m going to ask you to marry her,” a pause, then she looks him right in the eyes, her gaze blazing, “marry ‘Leanor, Levan. I know you like her.”

Levan is at a loss for words. He opens his mouth, about to say something, before he thinks better of it and sighs instead. He looked at her, resigned, before speaking, “tell me why you’re doing this again?”

“Well for starters,” a little bit more of Levan’s will to live fades from his eyes, “you like ‘Leanor. That much is easy to see from the way you look at her. And you know ‘Leanor is fond of you as well, since she’s always looking for a reason to spend alone time with you. Furthermore-”

This is going to take a while.

°•°•°•°

“-Finally, you have rivals, dear brother-in-law. Others who yearn for my sister’s attention and affections. She could have anyone in the kingdom, but she chose yo-” Malva’s eye twitches in annoyance and she pokes Levan roughly on his ribs when she notices his vacant stare, “are you even listening?” she frowns. She can tell how much Levan means to ‘Leanor. She wants nothing more than for their happiness, but if Levan doesn't make a move soon, she fears what ‘Leanor would think.

Levan, who had been zoned out for the better part of an entire hour of her explanation, winces in pain, his hand over the rib Malva had poked. “I was listening,” he grumbles. His thoughts seem to be elsewhere, however.

Malva sighs. She needs another approach, something that could worm into Levan’s mind and conscience and will refuse to let go until he tells ‘Leanor how he feels. Maybe…

“Y’know, Lilia is exceptionally close to ‘Leanor,” Levan’s ears perk up at her words. Perfect. She has him right where she wants him, “It’s not hard to see why, truly. Lilia is… something. He’s hardheaded and rather brash, like ‘Leanor is, but he also always makes sure she’s alright. In fact,” now this is a risk, but it’s a risk she’s willing to take, “I’d say, in a way, he’s in love with her as well.”

Lilia was a friend to both ‘Leanor and Levan, and though Malva felt a little guilty for using his name for her schemes, she assures herself that she'll apologize to him for it once she finally gets to meet him.

In all honesty she doesn't even know if Lilia actually likes ‘Leanor in that way or not, but regardless.

Levan was quiet, seemingly thinking through his options. He looks away from her, looking off into the distance, “you know what? You're right. Perhaps Lilia is better suited for Maleanor after all.”

Wait, what?

No! This wasn't how it was supposed to go!

“I'm not saying you should give up on wooing her!” Malva hissed, standing up and trying to get him to look her in the eyes, all while Levan looks away from her, his shoulders slumped in defeat, “‘Leanor doesn't love Lilia! She loves you! All you need to do is court her and all is well!”

Levan was supposed to use that as inspiration for him to pursue Maleanor more overtly. Lilia was just supposed to be an imaginary obstacle. He wasn’t supposed to matter in the equation!

… Malva feels guilty just thinking about it. She should really find Lilia and apologize for using his name like that.

Malva shakes her head quickly to clear her mind. No, that didn't matter for now. What matters is that Levan is giving u-

His shoulders are shaking. There's… there's amusement in Levan's eyes.

He's laughing at her.

Not only that, he's laughing at her in such a way that someone would have thought he was crying!

The heat of embarrassment rises up to Malva's cheeks, and with an indignant huff and a puff of fire, Malva smacks Levan on the shoulder as hard as her little hands can. “Stop laughing!” she all but cries, her voice cracking, “it's not funny at all! I'm trying to get my sister a husband here!”

Levan just kept laughing, but at least he stopped pretending to cry, clutching his sides as he almost fell off of his chair, “s-sorry, I- pfft- haha! It's just adorable how insistent you are in this.”

This just makes Malva even more indignant. How dare he? Sure, he was a noble, but he was still just a noble. Not yet a prince; not yet ‘Leanor’s husband. “I'm the Second Princess of Briar Kingdom. I know how to control my fire breath. I know how to fly. I am feared. I am powerful. I am not adorable.”

Levan is still laughing.

“I'm telling ‘Leanor you were being mean to me!”

“W-wait, no-”

°•°•°•°

Look left? Check.

Look right? Check.

Perfect. Nobody is watching her. It's time for her to-

“Moonlight? What in the world are you doing?”

“Ack-”

Malva whirls around, almost tripping over a root in her haste, only to see Maleanor standing behind her. Her mind scrambles for an excuse as to why she was slowly inching to the edge of the forest while the ball was commencing, any reason that would not end in her being scolded, but Maleanor narrows her eyes at her before she could respond.

“Yet again you try to run away from an event,” Maleanor sighs, shaking her head. Malva shrinks into herself, shame bubbling up in her stomach though she feels like she hasn't done anything wrong. Without a warning, Maleanor grabs her by the arm and drags her back into the center of the celebrations.

Planting her feet on the ground in vain, the younger of the two sisters squirms wildly, trying to free herself from the older one’s grasp, “I have plans, ‘Leanor. Plans that do not involve nobles sucking up to me in hopes of me giving them something,” she huffs, looking around the palace grounds for someone that could help her or at least be a distraction, “besides, it's not as if anyone here actually likes each other anyways. It's all one big ploy for each of them to get more power.”

“That’s just how politics are, Moonlight,” wait, it looks like they're going away from the center now- oh great, she's dragging her towards Levan and that sunrise-eyed boy. What fun. “You must learn to live with that.”

Maybe if she'd just use a little gravity magic- no, it didn't work. “That's not how I want it to be. What's life without genuine friendship? Without genuine love?” Maybe she could grow some vines from the ground to anchor her- aaaand Maleanor ripped out the vines.

“You've been talking to that half-human boy, haven't you?” They're getting incredibly close to Maleanor's friends, the chance for escape is slipping through Malva's fingers like sand. Maleanor didn't seem to care, “I've told you before and I'll tell you again, sister, those fantasy books are just that, fantasy. It's not how the world works.”

Escape is nigh impossible now. They're right in front of Maleanor's friends, which means if Malva did escape, it'll make her look bad. But does that mean that she'll back down? No. Malva is far too prideful for that. “Well you genuinely love Levan, don't you?” She snaps at Maleanor, her tail swishing in agitation. Still, she inwardly grins at the way both Levan and Maleanor's cheeks redden at her proclamation, “that means that genuine love and care does exist, even in politics, and it should exist more.”

Maleanor grabs Malva by the face, squishing her cheeks in a tight grip, “I told you not to say that in front of him!” She hissed, “have I not already told you I do not need your help to court him?!”

“Now now, let's both calm down, alright?” Levan tries to soothe, placing a hand over Maleanor's in an attempt to make her let go of Malva's face, “there's no need for this, hmm?” Unfortunately, Maleanor still doesn't let go, her eyes locked with Malva’s defiantly. Levan sighs, “Lilia, help me a little, will you?”

Ah. So he's Lilia. Malva really messed up by using his name to try to make Levan confess to Maleanor, then. Her current “featherdragon” project needs a new sacrifice.

Lilia looks at her, then at Maleanor, then at Levan. Then, he sighs, “Maleanor, your sister’s still a kid. She doesn't know any better.”

Oh? Oh!

Throwing Lilia a ‘thank you’ glance, Malva mentally notes to give him a gift later to show him her appreciation. Also as an apology, even if she'll never tell him what the apology is for. Taking a deep breath, Malva then turns her attention to Maleanor.

She imagines someone yawning, making her have the urge to yawn as well, but she keeps her mouth shut. Her eyes still water, though, and by holding back the yawn, it makes it look as though she's holding back tears. Look at me, she tries to hold back her giggling as she thinks the words, making herself look as sad as possible, how could you be so mean to me? Aren't I your baby sister? I'm not even a century old yet and you're already being so cruel…

She makes her bottom lip quiver, just for good measure.

The steeliness of Maleanor's eyes waver for a moment, her grip loosening, and Malva takes the opportunity to make a mad dash away from all three of them.

Success!

°•°•°•°

Sitting by the stream, Altair watches as fish of many colors swim by. The cool autumn wind tousled his hair, bringing with it a sense of calmness.

“Sunflower!”

From behind him, Malva emerges from the forest and sits down beside him. She grins widely, opening up her palm and making a magical fire in her hand to light up the area around them. “Pretty great, huh? I've been practicing.”

Altair rolls his eyes, setting down the book he had brought and moving closer to take a better look at the green flame. Much to his surprise, the flame isn't hot even when he puts his hand right next to it, “you didn't need to, you know. I'm a half-fae, not a human.” He can still see perfectly well in the darkness, and he can still see the amusement in Malva's eyes.

Malva, for her part, snaps her fingers and summons a book, placing it down next to his.

“You're just jealous you don't know how to cast this spell,” she nudges him with her shoulder playfully. For someone of such high social standing as her, she’s remarkably friendly in his eyes. Her eyes, however, lock onto the book he brought, and she turns it over so she can read the title, “what's this?”

Plucking the book from Malva's hand, Altair opens the book to where he last left off, Malva reading from over his shoulder. “It's my mother's herbarium.”

“A book about herbs?”

Altair nods, tilting the book towards her so she could see the pages better, “yeah, and it has the uses for the plants here too. See, here's yarrow, and here's a list of its uses, like slowing down bleeding…”

Malva listens intently to Altair's every word, her eyes locked on the pages of the book as he points out every interesting detail he could find. He suddenly remembers the thing she said about having been given a garden by her mother, (garden-hoard, she had said Princess Maleanor had called it) and its many plants. To find out that they have uses is something he would bet she had not thought she would be learning today.

But hearing that the herbarium used to belong to Altair's mother seemed to have reminded her of something.

“Didn't you say that your mother is a healer?”

Altair is taken aback for a moment by the sudden question, “Hm? Oh, yes, she is. Why do you ask?”

That's… odd. He could have sworn he saw something flash in her eyes. Something akin to glee.

“How exactly does someone become a healer?”

Suspicion creeps up Altair's spine. He answers, though hesitantly, “well, you have to learn about medicine on your own, then find a healer willing to be your mentor, then if you're good at it, you have to go to a special academy…” wait- why was he telling her this? Why did she want to know this anyway? “What are you planning?”

The surprised expression on Malva's face is too exaggerated to be genuine. “What? Am I not allowed to be curious about these things?”

The half-fae just stares at her, deadpan. He looks her up and down, slightly narrowing his eyes.

“Okay, yes, I want to be a healer. But that's because–”

“I don't think just wanting to add to your botanical collection is a good enough reason to become a healer.”

“I don't like seeing when people get hurt either!”

°•°•°•°

By the time Malva gets back to the castle, she finds that most of the guests have left, with only a few people hanging around the drinks table and Maleanor and her friends talking near the gates. She would have thought they’d all gone home by now, but she supposes that they have something to discuss. Walking towards them, she starts to be able to hear bits and pieces of their conversation.

“Aww! You were paying attention to her!”

“She's your sister! Of course I pay attention to her!”

“Even I didn't notice the book she was holding~”

“Stop trying to hide the obvious, Lilia.”

“Levan! Not you too!”

“What's going on here?” It's likely because of how immersed in their conversation they were, but none of them seemed to have noticed Malva standing beside Maleanor. And they seemed to have forgotten what she had said about Maleanor’s feelings for Levan, which is good.

Maleanor turns around and grins at her, catching her before she could run and squishing her cheeks again– much gentler, this time. “There you are, my dearest sister!”

“I don't like where this is going.”

“Yes, regardless,” much to Malva's annoyance, Maleanor waves away her words like they were nothing. She points to Lilia, who looks like he would much rather be anywhere but here, “this boy, right here,” Maleanor starts, her eyes positively gleaming with mischief, “has eyes for you, Moonlight.”

“What.”

“For the last time, I don't!” Lilia was seething, very clearly embarrassed by the whole situation. Malva, on the other hand, was too confused to really react.

“Don't lie, you were watching her enough to notice that the reason she was trying to flee the party has something to do with the book!”

Book? Oh, Altair's book.

Maybe this isn't the time to tell them?

Who was she trying to fool, this was the perfect time. She owed Lilia for her escape earlier anyway, so the least she could do is distract Maleanor and Levan from his embarrassment.

“Aside from accusations about ‘having eyes’ or whatever you three were talking about, I have an announcement.” Malva said, before anyone could interrupt her.

This seemed to have piqued their interest, as Maleanor released her hold on Malva and let go of her cheeks. Good. They were getting sore from being squished so much.

It was Levan who first spoke up again, “so, what was this about an announcement?”

This was it. A reason for her to distance herself from politics and add to her hoard in the process. Finally. This way Mother will stop pestering her about hoarding “real” treasures. Finally she can be of use to the kingdom.

“I'm going to become a healer.”

…

An awkward silence envelops them.

“That's it?”

“What do you mean ‘that's it’?” Malva's tail twitches in annoyance, “I just told you I'm going to be a healer.”

Is that not a big thing? To decide your own path in life so soon?

“Are you sure about it?” Lilia asked, “I mean, you're still only, what, seventy years old? Are you sure you're not going to change your mind halfway?”

She had distracted the other two from pestering him and this is how he repays her? How rude.

“You're a princess first and foremost,” Maleanor chimes in, “if you want to run around in your free time messing with plants, then you can. But being a healer is a whole other thing.”

Are they even listening to her? With an exaggerated sigh, Malva turns away from them, starting to walk back to the palace. “You know what? Fine. I'll just prove to you that this is the path I'll take regardless.”

Malva felt like a sulking hatchling. Which, to be fair, she was.

But she wasn't seventy years old; she was seventy nine.

°•°•°•°

“Has anyone seen my sister?”

The servant bows his head respectfully, taking a step back from the confused princess, “no, Princess Maleanor. None of us have seen Princess Malva today.”

Maleanor's brows furrow. Where was she? She hadn't seen Malva since the younger dragon fae said she was going to become a healer. Was she really that upset that Maleanor had pointed out the obvious?

With a sigh, Maleanor forces herself to nod. If Malva was anywhere nearby, she didn't want her to accidentally get hit by her lightning. “Alright. Keep an eye out. I need to have a talk with her.”

This just keeps on happening. No matter where she searched– how many servants she questioned, Malva was nowhere to be seen.

That was, until she got to the palace library.

She found Malva there, hunched over a table, a pile of books about medicine and herbs and plants scattered around her as she slept.

Huh…

She was serious about wanting to be a healer, then.

°•°•°•°

The moonlight is as gorgeous as always.

But something was wrong.

Looking around, Malva sees that she’s on a balcony. There’s some sort of celebration going on in the main building, a crowd of people dancing and chatting as music croons through the walls. A sense of danger crawls on her skin. Why was she here? What celebration was this? When…

The full moon shines overhead, lighting both the balcony and the grounds under her enough for her to study her surroundings decently.

Oh. Levan's here as well. He's talking to another noble that she hasn't bothered to learn the name of not far from where she's standing.

But where was Maleanor and Lilia? Those three are usually inseparable, so just seeing one of them and not the other two is uncanny to her. Well, unless it's Maleanor who's alone. She has her royal duties to attend to, after all.

Now that Malva thought about it, she doesn't see anyone she knows but Levan nearby. She has never liked being alone during these sorts of revels, so she makes her way to him quickly.

But that other noble… she feels like she knew him from somewhere.

“Levan!”

He didn't seem to hear her, still talking to the other noble calmly. The other noble, however, seemed to slowly lose his patience.

“You're too much of a coward to court her properly anyway, so why don't you stand back and let me court her instead?” The other noble said, his voice dark and threatening.

So that's where she remembers him from. He had been one of the many bachelors that had asked for Maleanor's hand in marriage a few decades ago.

Levan remains steadfast, his gaze and voice steady as he responds, “because she isn't interested in you. Dragon faes such as Maleanor cannot have children with those they do not love anyways, so even if you did end up marrying her, there would be no heir to speak of.”

“Is there a problem here?” Malva steps closer, hesitantly looking from the noble's face to Levan's, then back again. Something feels wrong. Something feels very wrong.

Before any of them could react, the noble pulls out a dagger and stabs Levan on the side.

Malva's heart felt like it had stopped beating.

Then, she wakes up.

She was in her chambers, her breathing panicked and afraid and she felt like she could faint.

What… What was that?

Didn't she fall asleep in the library?

~~

Word count : 4422 words (a nice number :D)

Tags : @kitwasnothere

[hazbinhotel-confessions]

i have a confession about this confessions blog. back in the day people would copy paste the confessions into a barely legible font over a poor pixel quality cropped image released from the source material of whatever fandom the blog was about. i think this would rlly elevate your quality of silly thing you do in your free time and didn't ask for an opinion on. in my opinion. thank you.

This is actually a really good idea-- I used to follow a blog who did this and it made me giggle teehee every time. I'm going to start doing this for now on.

[former-general-geshu-lin]

oh myyy (another wuwa rp? yayayayya), hello there— you emo man. /hj

Geshu Lin scowled slightly at the greeting, arching an unamused brow as he glowered. “And just what is that supposed to mean? Attempting to provoke me? I suggest you spend your time more wisely than that.”