I aspire to be one of those artists who obsess over a ship, thus gradually improving their anatomy and general art skills by drawing the said ship exploring each other's bodies every day
friends. friends. make a little fishbowl for your blog.
Here’s mine! Forest-y setting to go with my usual theme, a night sky to match my current theme, a writing desk for my stories and piles of books for all the old books I love reading. I also put my cat in there, cause he loves bothering me while I write and a glass bowl would do nothing to stop him.
This is one of the first things I saw when I came back onto tumblr after a long time off of it and I'm in love. Behold, for I am the thing that goes "goop" in the teapot.
I don't have anyone to tag since I don't speak to many people on here so I'll leave it at that :)
I Confess! (The Potion Made Me) [Malleus, Trey, Leona]
I have been dead for so long. Had no energy to write but wanted to write. When I had energy, no ideas were there. Finally came up with this.
I'm trying to get stuff out since I'll be off for three days and a day off is rare now. Work has been something else lately >_>
This is kind of like a general lead up + you finding different characters
You weren't there when the fabled accident happened. Mercifully, neither was Grim. For once it wasn't you! It was a rare and odd feeling. Welcome, but uncomfortable all the same.
It was a basic potion by Twisted Wonderland standards, one mages of the esteemed Night Raven College should be able to execute without fail. The rumor mill was in full swing within the hour so you only had a few pieces of information to go on.
It was a mix-level class because the potion was straightforward and upperclassmen could guide the juniors.
When the potion imploded there was no loud 'boom!' but it bubbled wildly and gave off a sweet, pink steam that smelled of sugary roses and strawberries.
The assignment was either a 'Honey Tongue' gone wrong or a too-strong 'Sweet Sincerities' but you didn't know which.
You'd read about both spells and they were cousins in Twisted Wonderland. Honey Tongue was something you could brew for yourself or give to others; it eased social anxiety by making your voice more soothing and helping you say the right things if you were prone to stuttering or freezing. Sweet Sincerities was a darker variant of Honey Tongue; it could only be brewed with intent to make someone else tell the truth. Both potions were limited by the strength and duration of their aftertaste--Honey Tongue tasted like honey and Sweet Sincerities tasted like a hard candy.
Apparently there wasn't much of a difference between the two potions ingredient-wise. Influence and stirring direction mattered most. The ratios were a little different but not by much. Honey Tongue used flowers that opened in the daytime while Sweet Sincerity called for flowers picked under the light of a full moon.
Remaining alchemy and potion classes were suspended while Crewel neutralized the hallway and worked on an antidote for those who didn't want to wait for the spell to wear off naturally. Crowley had surely holed himself up in his office to remain oblivious or calculate potential damages. It was no surprise the school day dwindled into a big free period after Professor Trein kicked out an overly honest Ignihyde member under the influence of said potion. Vargas stalked the halls, convinced he could make people burn off the exposure with cardio, but the offer remained unanswered.
Students suddenly remembered their shields and camouflage spells. He made a joke that they'd been hit by an invisibility spell instead. You slipped around the corner, absentmindedly following a deliciously fruity fragrance down the hall.
"No way!" you gasped as he came into view. "You got hit?!"
He smelled strongly of candied roses and fruit. Pink streaked his cheeks and school uniform. The very air around him seemed to swirl and shimmer but maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you. Probably a side effect of the strong aroma.....
-----
Malleus sighed and tilted his head in your direction, long hair trickling over his shoulder to rest at his back. "Regrettably so, my Child of Man. Owed to that lazy lion, no doubt." he spoke so casually but his eyes narrowed pointedly. Dangerously and quickly.
"Are you okay?" you looked up at him.
Malleus snorts sharply through his nose, brows furrowed as a composes himself. His face relaxes moments later, eyes twinkling as he looks down at you. "I am displeased at the circumstances but delighted you've asked after me. Your attention is comforting and addictive."
You feel your face heat up and Malleus can only chuckle. You don't miss the way a hand moves to his face, thumb and pointer finger on either cheek as if it could mask his own blush. His glove squeaked like he'd bitten into it but you weren't sure if you really heard that.
"Addictive, hm?" your face burns ever brighter and you're sure you'll melt right through the floor of the school.
"Like the most divine wine." he nods. "I am privileged to have a sip and smart enough to cherish it." he's cupped your face now, thumbs pressing at the corner of your lips. You don't know if he's lost impulse control because of the potion or if he's holding on because he knows your knees are weak.
"Wh-What are you doing?"
"Looking at your eyes."
"Why?"
"Because I like them and I'm wondering if my children will get them."
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YOU HAVEN'T EVEN ASKED ME OUT YET! AREN'T YOU GOING TO DO THAT FIRST?"
"No, I'm not kidding you!" Malleus tsks and clucks his tongue. "And I have been, you just haven't picked up on it." the tone he takes is unconcerned but not quite dismissive. Just matter-of-fact.
"Aren't you embarrassed?" you asked him. You were, and you weren't even a victim!
"No," Malleus shook his head. "I will never be embarrassed about my feelings for you."
If this doesn't wear off soon he will surely kill you with lovesick honesty.
-----
Trey is rubbing the back of his neck and sighing heavily. He hunches, trying to clean his glasses with the hem of his shirt. "You okay?"
He turns around, head still down and glasses tangled in his shirt. Trey looks up at you and you forgot how impossibly gold his eyes are. They're enchanting.
"I've been better," he admits. "Kind of ironic I got into something that wasn't started by Deuce or Ace. Or Cater."
He puts his glasses on, lips pressed thin in disappointment. You can tell by the way he blinks and adjusts them that they're not clean. "Let me try," you offer as he starts to clean them again.
Trey hands them over, humming quietly in amusement. Can he see up close? It's hard to tell with how he's squinting. You clean the lenses one by one, tracing the inside of the frame and wiping the outside. Your hands brush as you put the glasses in his hands, folding his fingers around them to make sure he doesn't lose them in a moment of blindness.
The heat of his hand lingers and you take a second to marvel at how long his fingers are. There's a hint of callouses on the bottom of his palm. He straightens to his full height, looming over you with that gentle, practical aura.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better now! Not so blind!" he laughs.
"You're not very honest, are you?" you don't judge him, just observe. He reminds you of Jamil in the way that he'll answer your question in the quickest way possible. A way that satisfies without oversharing.
"People just don't ask the right questions," he defends, adjusting his glasses as he looks away.
"Do you mess with your glasses when you're nervous?"
"Yes." he blurts out suddenly. His cheeks light up. "Doesn't everyone who wears them?" he rubs the back of his neck again. He puts one hand in his pocket and starts to walk down the hall, coughing a 'thanks!' into his hand.
"Wait!" you grab his elbow, tugging on it. "You said people don't ask you the right questions. Is there something you wanted to tell me but felt you could never bring up?"
Oh it's so stupid. Why did you ask it? Because you were dumb and hopeful, that's why. It didn't help that he looked cute and frazzled right now. The pink of the potion complimented his green hair beautifully.
He paused for a few heart-squeezing seconds. Trey turned slowly, swallowing thickly. "I see why those two knuckleheads like you," he laughs, taking the hand out of his pocket and wiping it on his pants like the nervous schoolboy he was. "You take good care of them, you know how to handle Riddle, and I think there's just a lot to admire about you."
"Like what?"
"I like your hands. They're different from mine and I think about holding them."
"You want to hold my hand?" you tease.
His words fail him but Trey takes your hand quickly. "And more." he smirks. "But nothing else out of me!" he pushes his glasses up and acts like he didn't just show you someone blunt and unfiltered.
Was that a bit of darkness in his gaze? Just who was Trey when he wasn't being the 'babysitter of Heartslabyul'?
"What can I get out of you?" you bat your eyes at him.
"A sweet for someone sweet?" he grins, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.
-----
Leona sends himself into a coughing fit, enhanced senses clogged with the sugary sweetness of the potion. It's in his lungs, on his skin, and starting to give him a migraine. He tries to wave it away but it's not helping. His chest rumbles with an aggravated roar as he tries to suppress the urge to cough. The wrinkles in his nose and forehead relax when a new scent comes in and cuts the potency of the potion.
"What're ya doing, herbivore?" Leona is secretly grateful for your presence.
"I heard you coughing. Wanted to check on you." you shrug.
"I smell like a walking perfume catalogue but I'm fine otherwise. That stupid lizard won't be if I get my hands on him though!"
"You don't think Malleus did this, did you?"
"No, but i just want a reason to punch his stupid--" Leona's eyes widen and he slams his mouth shut like someone just hit him with a curse. You feel your brows arch in curiosity and smug amusement.
Is that a blush on the famous Kingscholar's cheeks?
"I'm leaving. Gotta get this stench off of me!" he grumbles, careful not to bump you as he begins to stomp off. You don't know why you do it, but it's the first thing you think of. Leona's tail stiffens and bobs as your uniform jacket hits him in the back. His reflexes kick in and he grabs it, turning back to face you. You pat him down with the sleeves, working the back of the jacket against his chest like a rag as he relaxes.
"Beastmen have sensitive noses, right? Is this helping?"
"It's not hurting." Leona puts his hands on his hips. The words came too easy and quick and it makes his cheeks burn. He puts his hands on his hips like it's an inconvenience but you don't think it is. If it was, he would've left you already.
He's less twitchy now. He doesn't look as aggravated. Leona's lips pucker as he looks down at you, pulling your hands off of his chest and folding them together until you hold your jacket by yourself. The weight of his hands on your wrists isn't lost on you and you wonder if he realizes he's still holding onto you.
You want to point it out but you're afraid. This is kind of a moment and you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. He's rarely tender with anyone, always hiding good intentions behind snark and sarcasm. "Is there something you want to say? You act like you want to say something."
Your heart is in your chest and it beats impossibly faster when he begins with 'I hate'. Leona is struggling; his ears are pressed flat and his tail thrashes wildly behind him. "I hate how easy it is for you."
The incredulity shows on your face and your mouth falls open. Before your lips can launch into a rant about how not easy your life is in Twisted Wonderland, his quiet words echo loud enough to stun you. "You get along with people so easily. People like you just as you are and don't care that you live in a literal shithole."
"That's my shithole, Kingscholar!" you can't help but poke fun at him. You don't know why you are. That's a lot of honesty for someone so emotionally constipated. Your only coping mechanism was humor and you'd blame that.
He laughs and rolls his eyes at you. Leona squeezes your wrists and lets them go, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "It's a bunch of code violations protected by historic landmark laws. It shouldn't legally be a dorm."
"Well, Crowley says it is and he's the headmaster. What, you want me to be homeless?" you scoff harmlessly at him.
"You wouldn't be homeless." he looks away from you, starting to walk down the hall. You follow after him and he can't help but laugh as your little legs jog just to keep up. It reminds him of how different you are.
How soft and green you are. He was right to call you herbivore, he thinks. A smirk twists his lips as he realizes you still don't see why he calls you herbivore.
Don't you know carnivores eat herbivores?
"I wouldn't?" you've found your pace and feel confident enough to talk and keep step with him.
"You could live...with me..." he feels the heat creep up into his ears and he's not used to it. Leona feels his ears twitch, overwhelmed with tingles.
"I just get to jump straight to living with you, huh? That's the plan? No first date or anything?"
"I meant with my dorm! Live with my dorm!" Leona turns sharply, startling you. Your feet were still in 'walk' mode, carrying you forward despite the panic caused by his suddenness. You trip over him and Leona shakes his head as he hooks an arm around you.
Little dummy.
You hang off his arm like a dish towel and he's concerned and amused about how easy this is for him.
"Oh, so not romantically? Just casually?"
"I didn't say that!" Leona's ear flatten and he scowls at you.
"So you do like me!"
"You're not the worst company I've had," he hmphs as he lifts you higher and puts you over his shoulder. He doesn't entertain your protests but they make him smile. You'll tire yourself out eventually and accept your fate.
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