#vivi i did your silly little tag game are you happy

[tltdac]

i am continually hunted down by the angsty little prince who cannot be with his true love trope and it needs to let me LIVE

rhyscore hits me a little too close who told them

tagging whoever wants to do it im too angsty and nervous in my prince tower to actively tag muts ;u;

your name core

search (your name) + core on pinterest and create a board of the predominant aesthetic

thank you for the tag @moriflos <3 ur board is lovely

created a new post since the last was getting quite long; some np tags – @pettyprocrastination @honeydjarin @sprout-fics

[snusbandxknifewife]

Sticky Ficky part 3 for all y’all. Have some diet angst, just a lil touch

~~~~~~~

As she restocked her nerf gun with more glow in the dark bullets, she found that she was having to remind herself that she wasn’t having fun.

Planning to shoot the High King in the forehead wasn’t fun. In fact, it was an act of treason. Never mind that it was a king-sanctioned act of treason. It was still treason.

Jude Duarte, Seneschal to the High King of Elfhame, had long since chosen her weapon of choice. Though she could’ve gone for a more familiar suction cup dart crossbow, she felt that the true way to get the best of Cardan Greenbriar in this stupid little war was through the use of a gun.

And guns she had.

Jude had found herself in possession of fifteen or so nerf guns in the weeks that followed Cardan’s first encounter with a dart. It was clear that the High King, for his part, greatly preferred sticky hands.

“It makes for better control,” he announced as he looped the rubber circle at the end of a sticky arm onto the end of his tail, just below the soft black tuft of hair. “And I can feel the connection, unlike with your silly little guns.”

“You’re a fiend and a scoundrel who enjoys smacking my ass,” Jude countered.

THWAP

A solid connection from the light pink sticky hand attached to Cardan’s tail. An answering scowl from Jude. A never ending smirk from Cardan.

THUNK

A dart suctioned perfectly to the High left King’s ear, just under the point. A sick grin from Jude. Narrowed eyes from Cardan.

“Surely you can’t think you have a chance against me in war games?” Jude raised an eyebrow at Cardan as she leaned back against the desk in his study. “And certainly not with such shitty weapons.”

“I happen to have taken quite a liking to these!” Cardan sounded indignant for all of a moment before breaking, confessing something with the voice of a confidante, a voice he’d never really used with her before. “Besides, this is all Oak has seen fit to send me. The child seems to have an obsession and I’m more than happy to indulge him.”

Cardan turned, taking aim and launching the sticky hand towards the bullseye of a poorly drawn target on the stone wall of the study, hitting it without much effort.

“Oak certainly considers himself to be on his Uncle Cardan’s side,” Jude’s tone softened as it always did when she spoke of her little brother, though she also sounded a bit hurt at the betrayal. “I’m sure you could request a better weapon and he’d oblige.”

Jude emptied a clip into the bullseye, darts flopping all around the room as Cardan sat down on a high backed chair, sticky handed tail resting on his thigh.

“I’ll take what he sends me, he sounds excited by the whole ordeal and I’ll not risk ruining his fun by seeming ungrateful.”

Jude’s brow furrowed and she leaned back against the desk, looking to the king as the soft light of early morning shone on his face through the drapes. He was watching her lazily, dark eyes lidded and fingers tapping quietly against his thigh.

As the silence stretched out, she reloaded her gun, this time with hot pink bullets that Vivi had gifted her.

“I wish for the day that Elfhame is safe enough for young Oak’s return,” Cardan confessed. “My only other family is locked away in the Tower of Forgetting and I’d quite like to get to know my nephew.”

Jude didn’t look back towards Cardan, focused instead on cleaning away imaginary dirt spots from her nerf gun. “He’s a young boy,” she said. “Not different from any other, besides how his mother coddles him.”

That earned a snort from Cardan, causing her to look up and her brow to raise.

“To be coddled by your mother would be a glorious treat indeed.” He was no longer watching her, his eyes screwed tightly shut. “To be a normal young boy even more so.”

She thought back to the bubble holding Eldred’s memory, to the little boy with oil-black hair and ragged clothing and she remembered the story of the baby prince being fed by a stray black cat instead of his mother.

THWAP

The light pink sticky hand slapped perfectly against her right breast, just above the neckline of her modest black dress and right above her beating heart.

“Oh my darling Jude, don’t let me distract you with my tales of woe,” he smirked.

THUNK

THUNK

THUNK

THUNK

THUNK

THUNK

Each shot followed the High King as he fell out of the chair, hitting either his forehead or his chest on the way down. Jude fumed, angry he’d gotten the better of her, wondering if he’d shared a moment of weakness with her.

Cardan began to cackle from the floor, his earlier expression hidden once more behind a grin. He’d once told her that he smiles when he’s nervous. Did he have a reason to be nervous now, or was his smile genuine?

Jude reloaded her gun.

~~~~~~

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23