#tomeatoes

[maligcious-blog]

Oh, Leo. Precious Leo. Their tactical genius wrapped in the brink of his own studies. Of course, given the ever elusive veil of Nohr in her most silent of berating nights she would find him here, nursing the barely lit remnants of what lone candle stood in flickering attempt to illuminate the loneliness of the library. How exhausted her sweet baby brother must be. How it saddens the elder bloom to watch as his nights so seamlessly bled into days and he still hasn’t slept a wink. If only she could wrap him in the safety of her loving arms and sing him to sleep...

Even the most skilled warriors procured cracks in their flawlessly finished armor and darling Leo was certainly no exception. A silken finish of lavender curls fall neatly over his shoulders as she sneaks up on him to peek in on his most recent studies. Oh, was this...? Someone got his gauntleted hands on the ancient scriptures!

― ❝ Forgive me, Leo darling... where did you find this one in particular? Naughty brother, I can help you decipher this one! No cheek pinching. I promise!  ❞

[toestalucia]

@tomeatoes

   Metal slicing through meat, taking a step back and ducking under the hands thrown forward, spinning around and swinging the sword across the next monster’s chest. What WERE they anyway? At first he had assumed them to be human but that clearly wasn’t the case. Never had he fought against anything quite like them, and while swordsmanship was Gran’s excellence this was starting to get exhausting.

   Another ten quick steps backwards, creating space between him and the enemy who was making it troublesome to escape. He didn’t have TIME for this, not when his friends could be in trouble. The sooner the monsters were defeated the sooner he could find out where he WAS.

[quiveringshaft]

Oho, such delectably choice liberties they’ve so graciously taken with poor little insignificant him.

How quaint. Ah, when they thought to shove him in they left not even a tease of trial and naughty overlooked error. He wouldn’t be pulling out anytime soon, not the same way he came in at any least.

Oh well. Suffering well as it was practiced, a dirty virtue, why not enjoy it while it lasts? The grunt he breathes reeks of exhaustion, limbs devoid of every sweetly sadistic rhyme that gave them pulsing reason pulling tighter to the stiffened cage that somehow still made up his graveyard of a body. Waking to the grind of silk bed sheets cool as the night air clawing ever carnivorously between his legs was pleasantly unexpected. My, my. No reverberating rush of lingering shackles to wind him either.

How disappointing.

A room well more than equipped with simple comforts armed to the royally refined teeth. Through what tender cracks any invading hand of light dared reach through every now and seemingly distant again as if mocking him in every sense of release, the guards either shift ingrained posture or peer in at the little lord’s most indecent catch.

Every honeyed luxury he could have ever fathomed in his wildest dreams quite literally rolled out at his forever filth ridden feet. Even the air couldn’t hope to foul his crushed dreams, stripped of nearly all but what remained so insistently clung to him, a taint, a disease, blood and dirt like a spoiled self indulgent sport as the fleeting sensation of his own chipped fingernails nearly worn to their brim claw away at what white tufts of his matted hair remained untouched by still drying blood.

It isn’t quite the blend of voices so vividly seeping in that seek to rile him, oh no, but rather a certain one in particular. Despite knowing his savior was moments away from penetrating the foreboding threshold, the chill that curves along his spine is simply undeniable. So much, each lascivious word he dares purr oozes with temptation from the safely tucked confines of his bed.

❝It must have been a thrill having me on my knees begging. Did you enjoy it?❞

[quiveringshaft]

Gone is the year, fleeting and incandescent like past woes and sorrows. What remains is dear Zero, ever loyal and constant. So the prince, he sits beneath the star light flecks and the moon in her glory; a growing ritual. He moves ever so boldly to entwine their fingers, and nothing, not even festivities, gifts, or words can express the love, honor, and appreciation in his heart. "I hope to spend every coming day together. I wish for nothing but your well being and happiness. Happy Birthday."

To think they’ve come so endearingly far. Poor forgotten him plucked from untimely rags to the very seams of their own so blissfully heart woven gold riches. Nothing in his second life possibly compared to the Nohrian prince where all else eternally paled. Ah, the ever timid wink of a moon to silently bless each passing in her luminous pearl wake was just the touch of serenity to perfectly crown their occasion of unexpected sorts.

Tenderly so, calloused fingers tighten almost shyly around Leo’s own as foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled with intimate passings in flutter as unseen a butterfly’s tender wings. The greatest gift of all was the loyalty and love of the little prince adamantly set as every star in the sky to remain none other than at his lowly side, after all.

“How admirably quaint. Teasing me with the softness of that heart you keep hardened so much... I’ll be sure to cherish every moment. Thank you, Lord Leo.”

[catsrphub]

✍

✍ : What is your muse’s handwriting like? Is it neat? Sloppy? Fancy?

It’s not neat or sloppy and it’s most definitely not fancy either. It’s kinda halfway between neat and orderly and sloppy. It’s neater when he’s writing curses and hexes. But when he’s just writing it’s on the sloppy side with lots of loops.