#keene pride festival

[shapeshiftersvt]

Hey.

Hey, guess what.

Shapeshifters is coming back to Pride.

After years away, we will be at Pride Vermont Festival in Burlington on Sunday, September 10th

AND

Keene Pride in Keene, NH on Sunday, September 17th!!!

Come to our tent and browse binders in the biggest size range you've ever seen! Duck into the changing tent and try one on, or two, or five! Pick out a binder in a print you never knew existed and take it home the very same day!

These are the ONLY public events we'll be at all year, so come catch us if you can. It's gonna be so good. It might be the last chance you ever have to get fitted by me, ever.

[winged-scribe]

Twilight Bonds

tws : primal play, power dynamic, knotting, breeding kink if you squint, mirror sex.

fem!reader x tp!Link - commission by anonymous

wc : 3.4 k

It was in the quaint village of Ordon where our tale unfolds, under the watchful gaze of the setting sun, painting the sky in hues of fiery passion and serene peace.

[Name], a maiden with eyes reflecting the depth of the twilight, and a spirit as untamed as the wind, was a wanderer at heart. Her journey had brought her to Ordon, a village that seemed to exist in a space where time flowed gently. She entered the village, excited for the new sights and people she would meet.

As [Name] eagerly walked through the village, she took note of her surroundings; Ordon Village was a tapestry of pastoral beauty, nestled in the embrace of nature’s undisturbed splendor. The cottages, with their thatched roofs and walls of warm, sun-baked clay, huddled together like old friends sharing secrets. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, carrying with it the scent of freshly baked bread and the earthly aroma of burning wood. Their gardens bloomed with a riot of colors, from the fiery reds of geraniums to the delicate blues of forget-me-nots, each petal a testament to the villagers’ harmony with the land.

Keen to become a part of this idyllic setting, she approached some villagers with a smile. However, the response she received was far from the kind embrace she had envisioned. The villagers, bound by the tight-knit fabric of their long-standing relationships, viewed her as an outsider. Their greetings were curt, smiles forced, and their conversations ended almost as quickly as they began. She attempted to engage with them, complimenting their lovely village, asking about their traditions, and expressing a genuine interest in their ways of life. But [Name]’s efforts were met with cold shoulders and suspicious glances.

Whispers followed her and doors closed upon her approach as she walked through the main street back to her inn. She couldn't understand the cause of their aversion. Was it her unfamiliar accent? Her different attire? The rejection from the locals weighed heavily on her mind, the village’s frigid demeanor a stark contrast to the warmth of the hearth that greeted her as she entered her room. It was a small, cozy area, with walls adorned with woven tapestries. A sturdy wooden bed, covered with a quilt of patchwork colors, beckoned [Name] to rest, while a side table by the window held a basin and pitcher for washing away the day’s weariness. Across from the bed, a large mirror took the pride of the place. Its frame was a work of art, the wood polished to a shine, reflecting the craftsmanship of the village’s artisans.

She moved to the window, pushing it open to let in the cool evening breeze. The once lively village had begun to fade into a hushed lullaby. [Name] found herself gazing at the setting sun, stars slowly appearing across the night sky.

With a sigh, she turned away from the window and lit a small candle, its flickering flame casting dancing shadows throughout the room.

She sat at the edge of the bed, her hands idly tracing the patterns on the quilt. The fabric told stories of harvests and festivals, of a community woven together by shared joys and sorrows.

In an attempt to distract herself from the cold sting of rejection, she decided to take refuge in the one thing that brought her consolation–a walk. The open air should clear her mind. She stepped out of the Inn, the wooden door closing softly behind her, and ventured into the twilight. The village was completely quiet now, only the soft chirps of crickets filled the silence of daily life retreated into the privacy of homes and hearths. [Name] wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders, the fabric a small comfort against the crisp evening air.

The path before her wound through the village and out into the fields beyond, where the land stretched out like a canvas waiting for the night's brush. The sky, a mosaic of deepening blues and purples, was the first to welcome her, the stars beginning to twinkle like shy eyes opening to the night. Her footsteps were silent on the soft earth, the only sound being the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant call of a nightingale. The beauty of Ordon, untouched by the shadows of Ganon, enveloped her in its serene arms. Here, among the whispering grasses and watchful trees, [Name] found a peace that the village had all but denied her.

As she continued the path, her thoughts drifted like the clouds above. She pondered the walls people build around their hearts, the fear of the unknown and difference that drives them to shun what they do not understand. Yet, she felt a kinship with the world around her–a world that asked for no explanations, that accepted her presence without question.

[Name] stops abruptly, a new sound gracing her ears–a sound that seemed both foreign and familiar. It was a flute, she realized. Its notes floating through the air with a poignant beauty that tugged at her heartstrings. The melody was haunting, filled with longing and a touch of sorrow, yet it carried a strength that spoke of hope and courage. Drawn by the music, [Name] followed the sound, her steps light, as if she were being pulled by an invisible thread.

The melody led her to the spring, a place where the water mirrored the sky’s twilight canvas. Slowly peeking from the brush, she saw him for the first time–Link, the village’s guardian, his fingers moving expertly over the instrument, his eyes closed as if in communion with the song he played.

He hadn’t noticed her, too immersed in his music, he continued playing. [Name] approached quietly, not wanting to interrupt the magic of the moment. As she drew closer, the music enveloped her, wrapping around her like a warm embrace. She stood there listening until the final note drifted into the evening air and silence fell.

It was then that Link opened his eyes, a sense of tranquility surrounding him. Tranquility gave way to surprise when his gaze fell upon [Name], who stood at the edge of the spring, her figure bathed in the twilight's last embrace. For a fleeting moment, their eyes locked and a myriad of unspoken words passed between them. [Name]’s heart raced. A sudden fear gripping her–a fear of the unknown, of the intensity she saw reflected in Link's eyes. It was as if he could see into the very depths of her soul, and the vulnerability of that connection was overwhelming.

With a sharp intake of breath, she turned on her heel and fled, her footsteps a hurried whisper against the soft earth. Link’s hand instinctively reached out, a silent plea for her to stay, to understand that whatever just happened was to be cherished, not feared. But as she disappeared into the veil of night, Link remained still, the wisdom of his heart telling him to resist the urge to chase after her. He understood that some bonds, like the rarest of flowers, needed space to bloom. He stood there, the longing etched in his stance, a silent vow forming in his spirit to wait for her, to give her the time she needed to understand the depth of their connection.

Trees become a haze as [Name] runs through the underbrush. Her heart pounded like the drums of a frenzied dance as she re-entered the village, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The cool night air whipped against her face, tangling her hair into wild tendrils that whirled in the wind's chaotic rhythm. The cobblestone beneath her feet was a blur, each step propelling her further away from the spring, from Link, and from the intense heat his gaze gave her.

She reached the inn, a sanctuary of wood and stone, its windows glowing with the promise of solitude. With trembling hands, she pushed open the door, the silence a much needed relief from the pounding of her heart. [Name] made her way to her room, thoughts in disarray, each step she took felt heavier than the last.

Once she entered her room, she leaned back against the door, closing her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing. She moved to the window, her hands gripping the sill as she gazed out into the night. Thoughts of Link invaded her mind, unbidden yet persistent. She remembered the way his music had stirred something deep within her, a longing she couldn't quite name. His presence had been a balm to her loneliness, his melody a thread weaving through the emptiness she had felt since arriving in Ordon. But [Name] couldn’t deny she was drawn to the mystifying figure known as Link.

[Name] moved to the bed. As she sat at the edge, the softness of the mattress contrasted sharply with the turmoil within her. The room, bathed in the gentle glow of the candle, seemed to hold her in a tender embrace, a silent witness to the storm in her soul.

Her thoughts returned to Link. The memory of his eyes, deep and fathomless, lingered in her mind, a haunting presence that she could neither embrace nor escape. The melody of his flute, a poignant echo of their brief encounter, played over in her head–a symphony of what-ifs and maybes.

As sleep’s gentle vines began to weave their way around [Name]’s consciousness, her last thoughts were of him. She imagined his strong hands deftly coaxing music from the flute, his focused gaze as he poured his soul into the notes.

For the next four nights, as if drawn by an unseen force, [Name] found herself at the spring. Hidden in the shadows, she watched Link play his flute, each tune a new story told in the language of music. The melodies were varied–some joyful, some melancholic, but all of them touched by the magic of twilight.

She stayed only long enough to commit the music to memory, slipping away like a wraith before the final notes faded. Each retreat was a battle between her desire to stay and the fear of discovery. Yet, with each passing night, the music wove a stronger spell, and her heart grew ever more entwined with the enigmatic guardian of Ordon Village.

On the fifth night, under the cloak of darkness, [Name] once again found herself drawn to the spring. The melody of Link’s flute filled the air, a haunting tune that seemed to speak of longing and unfulfilled desires. She nestled into her usual hiding spot, her presence masked by the shadows.

The night was still, the only sound was the music and the occasional hoot of an owl. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. A stray twig lay hidden beneath the blanket of fallen leaves, and as she shifted her weight, it snapped—a sharp, betraying sound that shattered the silence.

Link’s music ceased abruptly, and their eyes met across the moonlit clearing. Time seemed to stand still, the world holding its breath. [Name] couldn’t seem to move, even as Link strode towards her. The air thickened around her, clinging to her skin like a damp shroud. Her heart raced, like a wild stallion was galloping through her chest.

Link’s eyes were dark and half-lidded with desire, something starved and primal seemingly stripping [Name] down where she stood, tracing over every feature of hers. His stature seemed larger, and more frightening up close. The moonlight painted his features in stark relief–the sharp angles of his jaw, the taut line of his lips. Shadows clung to him like a second skin, and [Name] wondered if this was the same man she had been sneakily listening to.

“Why do you keep running?” Link’s voice startles you–seeming low and strained. It was a low growl, a primal rumble that echoed through the spring.

She tried to speak, but her tongue felt heavy, and uncooperative. The world tilted, and she swayed, dizzy with conflicting emotions. Fear and desire warred within her, a typhoon threatening to consume her being.

“Link,” [Name] whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t-”

He took a step closer to [Name]. His scent—a heady mix of pine and musk—wrapped around her, intoxicating and dangerous. [Name] backed away, her mind a whirlwind of confusion. He cups his hand against her face, idly tracing his thumb over her cheek.

Link leans in, his lips ghosting over the shell of [Name]’s ear, having to forcibly hold himself back from pouncing on her right at this moment as she shivers from the contact. She finally stands in front of him, finally within his grasp and his for the taking.

“Run,” he whispers lowly. [Name] looks up at the man towering over her, eyes becoming wide and doe-like. A growl rumbles from his throat. “But if I catch ya,” he drawls, his lips slowly moving downwards, teasing the skin of her neck. Link stops and hovers over her pulse, mouth watering over her scent. “I'll take you.”

Heat flooded [Name’s] core, arousal leaking through the fear and unease. Their eyes lock, unspoken words exchanged between the two of them as Link begins to count backwards from five.

“Five.” Would she make it back in time?

“Four.” How long would the chase last?

“Three.” Would her room at the inn be the safe spot?

“Two.” What did Link plan to do once he caught her?

“One.” Then, the spell broke, and [Name] turned and fled, her heart thundering in her chest.

This time, however, Link’s instincts took over. He could no longer be the silent observer, his feet moving before his mind had time to protest. He gave chase, his form a blur of motion, driven by a force he couldn’t name.

They raced through the village, [Name]’s breath coming in ragged gasps, Link’s footsteps a relentless echo behind her. The night air was a rush of adrenaline, the village a maze of shadows and light.

She reached the inn, her sanctuary, and with a desperate surge of strength, she burst into her room. She barely had a moment to catch her breath when she saw him—Link, framed by the window, his silhouette a testament to his otherworldly agility.

There was an intensity in his gaze, a silent question that hung in the air between them as they stood unmoving. [Name]’s eyes were wide and frightened, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as Link’s hungry gaze trailed the frame of her body, fully taking her in. Link stalks toward her, tightly snaking his arms around [Name]’s midsection as his lips brush against the cusp of her ear.

“Caught ya.” He murmurs, voice deep and husky with thinly veiled desire.

Link pushes her against the door, eager to claim what the Goddesses had gifted him. He trails his lips against [Name]’s neck, kissing and sucking whatever he could reach. [Name] couldn’t stop the noises that fell from her mouth, Link seeming to know exactly where to direct his onslaught of frenzied affection.

Their breath mingled in the air, a symphony of gasps and moans filling the room as they surrendered to the intoxicating pull of their bodies. Link's hands roamed over her curves, igniting a fire within her that burned brighter with each touch, each kiss, each whispered promise of ecstasy.

Link slots his knee between [Name]’s thighs, pressing against her core as his fingertips dig harshly into the plush flesh of her hips. His hands rock her into his thigh, setting the pace agonizingly slow. Link groans into her lips, his cock throbbing in time with her moans, and he finds that he is unable to wait any longer.

He lowers himself to the floor, his fingers hooking around the hem of her waistband— tugging her bottoms off and tossing it to the side. Link’s breath fans across her clothed heat, his nose bumping into her clit as he desperately laps at the fabric. He seemed as if he were a starving man, and they hastily tear the remaining clothing from their bodies, exposing their unmarked skin to the moonlight.

His breathing grows ragged, his chest rapidly rising and falling as one hand reaches up to cup her breast, and the other tenderly pushing a digit into her as his lips latch back onto her bundle of nerves. Link’s eyes roll back at the taste, his fingers slowly pumping in time with each roll of his tongue on her clit.

[Name] gasps at the welcome intrusion, fisting Link’s hair to bring him closer. He moans at the pain and adds another digit that causes her to spasm with pleasure. He suddenly stops his abuse, and looks up at [Name] from beneath his lashes, eyes half-lidded with a ravenous, instinctual hunger.

“Why did you-“ [Name] begins to question. But Link cuts her off by picking her up and taking her in front of the mirror. Her face flushes with embarrassment as she meets their reflections, her core clenching around nothing. Her eyes connect with Link’s pulsing length, widening as she realized he was indeed not like other Hyrulian men.

His cock was flushed a pretty pink, the base plump with arousal, and the head a thick bulb. [Name] begins to panic, how would that ever fit inside her? Link notices her anxiety and sloppily trails kisses along her neck in an attempt to soothe her.

“Don’t worry, lil’ bunny. I’ll go nice n’ easy on ya.” Link purrs, chuckling darkly. He aligns himself with [Name]’s entrance, swiping his cockhead along her folds - leaving a silvery string of arousal connecting them.

“Look atcha, Bunny…you’re drooling f’me. Can’t handle a little heavy petting?” Link all but groans, slowly sinking into her gummy walls. [Name] clenched around his cock like a vice, a soft whine leaving her lips that nearly snapped Link’s remaining patience. His jaw slackens as his fingers wrap around [Name]’s jaw, forcing her to watch as he slowly thrusts into her.

“Be a good girl and watch me make a mess of ya, Bunny,” he murmurs in her ear. “If you don’t, I’ll stop.”

Once she was accustomed to his size, her soft whines rising in volume, Link increases his pace. His hips snap into her, breathy groans parting his lips as his knot begins to swell. Their gazes meet in the mirror’s reflection, tears bubbling in [Name’s] half-lidded eyes as he gains speed.

“Doin’ so good for me, bunny.” Link praises, his breath growing heavy as he begins to lose himself to the feeling, his thrusts growing sloppy. [Name] whines in response, her walls pulsing and fluttering around Link’s swollen knot.

“Not yet, bunny. Gotta cum with me.” He growls, his fingers finding purchase on her hips, digging harshly into the skin. His knot throbs inside of [Name], low groans and whines filling the open space as the two grow closer to their climax. Each thrust becomes harder, faster, a cacophony of lewd squelching and sounds of ecstasy.

“Nngh.. I’m close, bunny… a little more and i’ll fuck you full of my cum, yeah? You’ll be good and take it f’me, won’t you, bunny?” Link growls.

[Name]’s mind is spinning with pleasure, melting into a soft mush. Her stomach tightens at Link’s words, her body growing hotter as she watches the man rut into her. “Link… I can’t-“

“Yes, you can. You’ll hold it f’me, okay? Such a good girl takin’ my cock like this.” Link rasps between quick breaths. His praise alone makes her tighten in pleasure. “Fuck, bunny… I’m gonna cum..!”

“Cum with me..! Cum with me, bunny-“ Link moans through gulps of air, his knot locking inside her gummy walls as he weakly fucks [Name] through their shared orgasm. Hot ropes of cum spill into her womb, her body trembling as her orgasm washes over her. Tears spill down her cheeks from the sheer intensity.

Link bites down on the apex of [Name]’s shoulder to muffle his sounds of pleasure, a pained whine erupting from the woman. Even after their orgasms have passed, Link slowly continues rutting into her, instincts demanding that he doesn’t waste a drop. He presses a tender kiss to her pulse after some time, inhaling the aroma of her natural pheromones and gently pulls out of her.

“You did so good for me, bunny.” Link murmurs softly, padding off to the bathroom to find something to clean her up. When he returns, he carefully cleans [Name] up and slides into bed with her - an arm draped over her waist as he pulls her close to him.

“You don’t have to run anymore, [Name].”

[viviennevermillion]

we just now got the feeling that we're meeting for the first time

note: loosely based on the vibes of the song for the first time by the script. starts with an argument. reader and leona both are pretty harsh here but they'll get there eventually. ♡ this took me two days and idk what possessed me but I really like how this fic turned out and I appreciate comments or asks about it. ♡

contains: leona kingscholar x gn!reader, relationship development, angst to fluff, fighting and making up, bonding experiences

word count: 7.6k words

warnings: argument, leona's crippling depression, some hurtful things have been said

dark content creators & consumers do not interact

It was the middle of the winter holidays and Night Raven College was probably as quiet as it could be. You had left behind the festivities of late December and for now you decided to take some time to focus on yourself and rest up before school would resume in about a week. On a particularly cold Friday evening you had made yourself some pasta for dinner and laid down in bed after putting away the dishes. The night sky was clearer tonight than it had been for a while and your room was lit up only by the stars and the dim light of the magical ignis fatuus lamp on your nightstand. You took out your phone and checked the messages your friends had left you; keeping you updated on the presents they had received and the activities they engaged in during their well-deserved vacation. 

You didn’t know if it was just a whim or the fact that you may or may not have missed a certain someone…but you eventually decided to reach out to Leona to check up on him. You remembered how annoyed he had sounded when you saw him leave for his homeland through the dark mirror. It was no secret that the second prince of Sunset Savannah was anything but keen on going back to the palace over the winter holidays. His abrasive behavior was quite off-putting sometimes and you had to admit it made you hesitate sometimes to reach out to him even though you wanted to. You were long past the point of considering Leona your friend. His perspective on the matter, however? A mystery to you. 

It could just be that you were a nuisance to him. That he didn’t necessarily dislike you but rather had you minding your own business instead. Or maybe that was just the way he was. You found him hard to read sometimes; never knowing whether a question would get you a snarky comment or a calm and serious answer. Leona was more than capable of both. Still, especially after his overblot and having seen a glimpse of how he was feeling inside, you had decided to push your pride away for a while and put some effort into being his friend; even if he had a tendency to push everyone away. You presumed it was because at least, if he pushed people away, he was the one who’d have the last word. He could retain the reputation of someone who simply didn’t care, rather than risking to be seen as someone who just wasn’t wanted. You didn’t know how much Leona was aware of the extent of his feelings that he divulged while in an overblotted state. It was probably best if he remained largely unaware. 

Still, you decided to shoot him a quick “Hey, how are you doing?” over your messaging service. Leona didn’t seem very busy at the moment, as his answer came not soon after. “Oi, herbivore, what do you want?”, he texted back. 

“Just wanted to know how you’re enjoying your winter holidays so far. I haven’t heard from you in a while. Thought I’d text you so close to the new year to check how you’re doing. You didn’t seem too pleased to go back to the palace after all”, you replied. Leona shifted his position on his bed, staring at the words on his phone for a while. His expression darkened a little. The fuck did it matter to you how he was doing? 

It wasn’t particularly well, that was for sure, but you didn’t have to know that. However, Leona didn’t really feel like talking at all. Contrary to how easily he could try to sleep away his problems for a while when he was at Night Raven College, they seemed to always catch up to him when he was back home. He hadn’t slept in 48 hours; not since the annoying political gathering Farena had dragged him to on Wednesday. His days consisted of laying in bed and trying to avoid his brother’s nagging and Cheka’s attempts at playing games with him as best as he could; trying to get some sleep but consistently failing to. He let out a bitter laugh, wondering what Ruggie would think if he saw him like this. The hyena beastman had tried multiple times to get him out of bed after Leona had slept for more than 10 hours and failed miserably. And now Leona couldn’t even take a nap for a couple of hours. 

“Yeah, it sucks, dunno if that’s the answer you expected”, Leona typed and ran a hand through his dark hair, slumping back into the pillow and holding the phone above his face, “there’s nothin’ to do here except fancy crap and arguing with my brother, the beloved king. Only good thing is my personal chefs; their food is fantastic as usual.” Leona held his head in pain, the headache from the sleep deprivation getting to him more and more. He turned the brightness of the phone down and reached for another painkiller on the nightstand, downing the medication with a glass of water. 

You had no idea of the beastman’s predicament; comfortably resting under the covers of your own bed. “Let me guess, you’re eating nothing but meat again?”, you chuckled and clicked on ‘send’. 

“Heh. The chef told me I need to eat more greens. I told ‘em I’d rather starve than touch some leaves and eat like a herbivore.”

You rolled your eyes. He always had such an attitude. The poor chefs were probably just doing their best to keep their prince healthy. “Classic Leona”, you replied with a chuckle, “do you plan on handing your essays in after the holidays this time? We don’t want you to repeat another year.” You remembered how Ruggie had teased him that if he didn’t pass his finals again, they’d be in the same class from next year on. Leona furrowed his brows and rolled his eyes. As if he didn’t have other things to worry about than schoolwork at the moment. What idiot even came up with the idea of giving students homework over the holidays?

“You sound like Farena”, you got your next answer, “‘You need to pass this class’, ‘You need to get better grades’, ‘What are the citizens gonna say if Prince Leona can’t even graduate from school?’ Gimme a break. Ugh. Can’t a guy take a vacation? I don’t wanna worry about stupid essays now.”

You sighed. “You’ve pretty much taken a vacation since the school year began…you’re hardly attending classes because you’re always nappin’ somewhere in the greenhouse”, you turned on the light of your room, knowing this conversation was likely not taking a pleasant turn anytime soon, “I’m sorry I remind you of your brother. But I’m not saying this to pester you. If I didn’t give a shit about you, I’d have long since ignored you.” It was true. You hardly would have bothered with him if he hadn’t grown on you overtime. And if it weren’t for the feelings you secretly harbored for him; getting stronger with every passing day. Most people would have probably advised you against falling for Leona. But it was not like that was something you could control. Sometimes you felt like it wasn’t a good idea at all to keep trying to stick around when he wasn’t willing to let you in. But there were moments where Leona was one of the most pleasant people to be around; regardless of how much your classmates would have raised their eyebrows at you for admitting that. He was calm, honest and all the shallow things people around you were obsessing over, Leona was hardly interested in. His demeanor was refreshing sometimes and his jokes were funny. But on other occasions he just had to be so difficult. The worst part was that you knew he could do better. But on most days he wasn’t even willing to try.

Meanwhile Leona wondered what your reason was for reaching out to him if you were just going to lecture him anyway like everyone else did. Why didn’t you just let him mind his business and leave him alone? It wasn’t that Leona was annoyed with your presence. He too felt quite comfortable around you most of the time. But you had the same criticisms for him as everyone else did. And even though he knew deep down you were right; he just kept standing in his own way. It was frustrating sometimes, but he hardly had the energy to do the 180° turn others expected from him. He felt inadequate. Especially for you. What was he expecting from you anyway? That you’d love him and choose him over everyone else you knew? All the people who were responsible and had their lives figured out? So for the sake of his pride he did the one thing he knew best how to do: Keep pushing you away. 

“Fineee, I’ll turn in my essay. I’ll go to class. I’ll even go find some herbivore friends just to humor ya”, he shut you down and it was evident from his phrasing that he was hardly serious, “now shut up and let me go back to sleep for a bit, eh?” He ignored the twinge of guilt in his heart for being so rude to you; who had been nothing but kind to him since the year started. What did he care for anyway? He felt like his emotions were getting the better of him; all the frustration and anger and hopelessness of the past few days creeping into his mind like a shadow that was taking hold of him. He reached for the lamp on the nightstand; knowing full-well he probably wouldn’t be able to take the nap he told you he’d take under these conditions; knocking the glass of water to the floor in the process. “Ah shit”, he groaned, sinking back into the bedsheets. He supposed he could clean that up tomorrow. Or get one of the staff members to do it for him. He just hoped Farena wouldn’t lecture him about it. That’s how far you’ve come, huh? Don’t even have the energy to pick some glass shards up. Pathetic. 

He tried to push down that voice inside him as best as he could, putting his phone aside and burying his face in his pillow to muffle the quiet sobs that he couldn’t stop from escaping him. Though he doubted anyone would hear them anyway. There was another small gathering in the garden below his window and he could hear the upbeat music and some of the chatter from the guests. At least his attendance wasn’t required for today’s event. Leona hated crying. He hated how vulnerable and weak it made him feel. He’d much rather lie to himself and convince himself that he really didn’t give a damn and just enjoyed being lazy and provoking the people around him. In those moments, somewhere deep inside his heart, Leona wished for someone to be there for him. But it wasn’t like anyone out there cared; they were busy with their small garden party to honor his homeland’s coexistence with nature. And you? You had reached out to him and asked him how he was and Leona just couldn’t have given you a normal answer. Instead, he just pushed you away to guarantee that you’d probably stop caring about him too. Your newest message confirmed his suspicions, reading: “Fine. Whatever.”

You were tired of the constant back and forth. You had reached out to him with good intentions and care and this was what you got in return. Maybe it truly was time to leave Leona Kingscholar behind for good and make sure you wouldn’t have to deal with interactions like these on a peaceful night. This was exactly why you had hesitated to text him anything. But instead of taking his nap, Leona replied back. You had the feeling he wouldn’t do that if he had no interest in talking to you whatsoever.

“You really gotta learn to lighten up a little. Not everything’s all serious, ya know? Sometimes a nap is just a nap”, he tried to de-escalate the anger he caused with his previous messages; attempting to play it off as just his usual demeanor and nothing personal. What he didn’t get at the moment was how much that played down your own feelings and words. 

You rolled your eyes, debating whether you should just log off and leave him to his own thoughts. Maybe that was for the better. You sighed. “You didn’t have to start it with ‘shut up’”, you answered, just hoping anything you said wouldn’t make things even worse. 

Leona had gotten up from the bed and sat down near the window, gazing out onto the garden; wishing anyone at that gathering would actually care about his thoughts regarding the development of his homeland. The cheerful laugh he could hear from Farena and his guests filled him with a sense of anger so strong that it hurt nobody but himself. He felt stressed; just wanted to finally go to sleep and actually manage to drift off into the land of dreams. But life seemed to have other plans for him. He had gotten himself into a fight with you, one of the only people who seemed to genuinely care about his feelings; the royal court was just proceeding with their schedule as if he was nothing but a ghost sometimes lingering at them and he knew he had to do the damn essays if he wanted to pass this time. 

“Yeah, you’re right. I should’ve said something more polite like ‘I’m trying to get some shut-eye here, would you kindly shut up so I can rest peacefully?’ or perhaps ‘Excuse me but I have some slumber to catch up on, would you please cease talking so I can focus on that?’ Better?”, Leona snapped, his expression darkening.

His rude behavior and disrespectful reaction to you just trying to be nice to him frustrated you. So much so, that you waved the idea of being polite and holding back your thoughts about the matter a friendly goodbye. If it’s a fight he wanted, he can have one, you thought with a bitter mood. So you replied something you knew you probably should not have said.

“And this is why people don’t put you first.”

Your words stung. You hit him right where it hurt and both of you knew that. The crying that had stopped, resumed again as tears ran down Leona’s cheeks. He knew he got himself into this mess but admitting that seemed like the hardest thing for him right now. Not with how angry you had made him over the past 30 minutes.

“Because I’m sarcastic? Wow. Really settin’ the bar high there. Not everyone needs to be a happy-go-lucky sunshine boy, ya know?”, Leona replied with a spiteful feeling in his chest, “maybe I just express myself differently. What do you care ‘bout it?”

Okay, we’re really doing this, are we? You took a deep breath and shook your head. 

“The problem is that you’re rude as fuck and then you’re complaining about only ever being the second choice. Yeah, sure, it sucks for you that you can’t be king or win the Magift tournament against Malleus; I get that; but everything else is your own doing”, you reached a point where you weren’t holding back your thoughts anymore, “you’re literally not even letting people be nice to you. That’s like, the bare minimum. I’ve been trying to be your friend for the whole school year and sometimes you’re really pleasant to be around but other times you’re just taking your bad moods out on people who care about you and I’m tired of it. I tried. I really did. But you push everyone away and then you go sulk in your bed about how no one understands you.”

“I don’t need you to care about me”, a lie and a pretty damn pathetic one; Leona knew that. But he was in the wrong headspace at the wrong time and on top of everything else, he was panicking because he felt like you were close to abandoning him. And this time it would be his own fault. 

“Goodbye Leona. See you in school, I guess.”

Leona frantically started typing again; not feeling like he’d be able to tolerate the silence. To just be left alone with his thoughts again. To have lost you.

“Fine, fine. I’ll be there. I’ll be the best prince ever. Good, hardworking, loyal, reliable…then everyone will love me, huh?”, he let out a bitter laugh, clutching the pillow he was holding, “is that what you wanted?”

His response was as sarcastic as ever but he was in luck that you were not one to just let him put words into your mouth. 

“No”, you texted back, having calmed down a little and gotten yourself a tea, “I just want you to at least be respectful towards the people who care about you and not lash out at us like this. That’s literally all I ask for. Ruggie and I stuck around even through your stupid overblot and all your depressive episodes where you locked yourself in your room and slept for 14 hours as if that’s gonna solve anything.”

Under normal circumstances, Leona would have been a lot more careful with his words. He was hardly one to even remotely talk about his feelings; always keeping them to himself to make sure no one had anything they could use against him. But the sleep-deprivation, emotional distress and headache put him in a state of mind where he was a lot more honest and open than he intended to be.

“Oh? It must be a real burden on you that I’m not just one of those happy, energetic herbivores, huh? If I was nice and polite; if I just did what I was told, everything would be fine, wouldn’t it?”, he could hardly even still see the screen as his vision got too blurry, “then you wouldn’t have to be burdened with being nice to someone like me….someone who can’t even smile genuinely. Someone like me should just disappear, right?”

As soon as he sent that, he wanted to take it back. This was too much. More than he ever wanted to let you know. He had given you a glimpse into his heart and he was certain that this had been a grave mistake. And simultaneously it made you realize what was really going on here.

Oh god, he’s not doing well at all…shit. You realized Leona hadn’t reacted this way towards you because he hated your presence or saw you as an annoyance…this was his own self-doubt talking and he obviously was not okay right now. You saw that now. 

“Leona…that’s not what I’m saying at all…did something happen at the palace? You’re a bit of an asshole sometimes, but it’s usually never this bad…you okay?”, you messaged him and Leona let out a bitter laugh. Even through all this…even after how rude he had been to you and how hard he had tried to push you away, your first response to his accidental self-deprecating talk in the heat of the moment was to worry about him. You deserve better…, he thought.

“Listen, I don’t expect you to smile or be happy all the time or do what you’re told”, you continued, “and I’m sorry you feel the way you do. I understand and I respect your feelings. You don’t have to be all smiles and super friendly to everyone or fulfill anyone’s expectations. Just don’t let your anger and frustrations out on your friends. Hell, i don’t know, rant to us about how much life sucks or whatever; maybe we’ll end up with a bitter joke about it or something….anything’s better than this.”

He had to admit that…did sound more pleasant. You weren’t done yet.

“I’ll be there even if you’re not feeling well. Even if that lasts weeks or months at a time. But if you don’t give me the basic respect and kindness a friend deserves, then I’m out”, you added, “and I’d never want you to disappear, Leona. That’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

Leona remained silent for a moment. Minutes passed by and you were wondering whether he’d even reply at all. It had started to rain outside and for whatever reason the thunder seemed to calm you down. You put your phone aside and tried to distract yourself by reading a book you grabbed from the school library. After a while, you heard the notification sound of your phone again. You checked the display to see a new message from Leona.

“...heh. You really got me down to a t, didn’t ya?”, it read, “Sorry if I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to. I’m just tired. Tired of all the things I have to do, tired of always being second pick, tired of being angry. I guess I took it out on you and that was wrong. I apologize for my rudeness.”

You knew it took a lot for Leona to ever apologize for anything. He had decided to swallow his pride for the sake of fixing the mess he made. You were exhausted from the fight and this was the first time you had heard him apologize to you for being rude. It had never been this bad before; but Leona could be quite dismissive on a regular basis. You had more to say but it was probably best for you to indulge him for now and let him rest and calm down. 

“Thank you. Wanna talk about what happened?”, you asked.

Leona hesitated for a moment. He remembered the gathering two days ago. Farena had pressured him into attending; saying the whole royal family was expected to be there. So Leona had begrudgingly put on the tight, fancy clothing and sat at the dinner table with dozens of politicians and investors. He heard them talk to his older brother and the queen about the current status quo in Sunset Savannah; even acknowledging Cheka as the heir to the throne. But Leona? Leona was meant to sit there for the whole evening and look pretty. Farena shot him a glare when he attempted to take out his phone to distract himself; as it was not proper etiquette for a prince. 

Leona couldn’t remember anyone but his own family members having attempted to talk to him that night. No one had cared about his opinions or the fact that he was even there. For all the talk about how crucial it was that the whole royal family attended, Leona sure felt like an extra at the event. There were many investors who were advocating for a better infrastructure and to develop more parts of the country aside from the capital; making use of its natural resources to achieve a bigger state of welfare. Leona had many thoughts on the matter. He had visions and ideas on how to make them happen. He did care. But it didn’t matter what the loathed second prince said about any of this. Farena would probably scold him for trying to butt into the official state affairs. Not that it mattered whether he said anything or not. His brother’s opinions and his own differed greatly; that much he knew. He’d never listen to any ideas Leona brought to the table. He had tried often enough.

So all Leona did was sit there and listen. Not saying a word; just holding his tongue when he had so many thoughts wanting to be said. He listened to everyone else; let everything happen whether he agreed with their decisions or not. Eventually he just blended the voices out, concentrating solely on trying to keep his act together when his facade was threatening to crack because it occurred to him just how much he didn’t matter. Cheka had tried to climb onto his uncle’s lap and show him a bracelet he crafted, expecting a response from Leona. He knew he had to react somehow. He couldn’t just ignore when someone was talking to him; especially not with so many people right next to him. But he feared, were he to say something now, his voice would crack and he’d break.

So he took all his strength to keep it together, gently placed Cheka on the ground again and walked over to his brother, excusing himself and saying he was feeling sick. Not a lie technically.

Leona took a deep breath before replying to you.

“No, I’d rather not. That’s…my own personal life, y’know?”, he answered, “I’ll stop being such an angry prick towards you and Ruggie all the time. I guess I needed that wake-up call, harsh as it was. At least I know you’re not one to lie to my face, heh. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to try to catch up on some shut-eye. I’ll talk to you later.”

You leaned back with a slight smile on your face. That was a lot more genuine than what you were used to from Leona. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you were beginning to feel like, bizarre as it was, today had brought you closer to one another. That Leona had reached a new level of trust towards you he didn’t have before.

“Heh…see, that’s much better than ‘shut up and let me take a nap’”, you replied with a relieved smile, “get some rest, Leona. Hope you’ll feel better afterwards. ❤️”

“Did you just send me a heart emoji?”

“That was an accident. Go to sleep. :)”

Leona realized he had a smile on his face. He chuckled, burying his had in his hands. You were really getting to him, huh? You had said a couple of things that really stung and yet somehow at the end of the day he treasured you enough to smile at a sign of affection from you. I better make sure to treat ‘em properly from now on, he mused and smirked, laying down on his bed again. He wondered if you actually had feelings for him or something of the sort. Somehow with the thought of you on his mind, he fell asleep easily, relieved you were able to sort things out. And he was already looking forward to talking to you again… 

You didn’t hear from Leona again for at least half a day. You were already suspecting that the sleepy lion may not have gotten any sleep at all lately, so you were glad he was resting. What you didn’t expect was for Leona to call you when he woke up. He’s calling? That’s a new one.

“Mornin’ Herbivore”, his voice was raspy and was cracking slightly. He sounded a little bit like he had cried but you didn’t dare to comment on it. “It’s 3pm. Sleep well?”, you chuckled and had a smile on your face again. “Hmm, I’ve had better nights but yeah”, he responded, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his hair, “sorry again about last night. I had a bit of a moment there…I’ll do better. If you forgive me that is. But only if you wanna. I was kind of an ass.” Leona turned on the camera of his phone and so did you. He gave you a triumphant grin when he saw how your reaction to seeing his face was just smiling instantly. 

You sighed. “It’s fine. You’re lucky I like you. You’re an acquired taste.”

Leona chuckled. “I’m glad my terrible sleep schedule and awful personality can be considered an acquired taste in this day and age”, he winked at you. You let out a laugh. You looked at Leona’s calm expression; the way his hair looked messy and his ears twitched a little. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and you thought he looked absolutely ethereal. You had to admit you missed him.

“Okay, you made me laugh, I give you that”, you chuckled and grinned at him, “feeling better?”

“A bit”, Leona answered, “Thank ya for being so patient with me. You’re a real one. I guess I’m just used to people not sticking around long enough to deal with my bullshit…..it feels weird….having someone care.” Something had definitely changed inside Leona. He was still weirdly genuine about his feelings. Maybe he was also still very exhausted. 

“Well, you’re in luck. I’m really stubborn and I always want to have the last word. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Even if you hiss at me like a feral housecat”, you teased him. “Heh”, he laughed and you could see his ears move along with the rising and falling of his chest, “fine, I won’t try to get rid of ya then. Still gonna be a bit of a prick tho. Maybe I will start hissing at people. Make a reputation for myself. The hissing prince of Sunset Savannah.” 

The two of you laughed and Leona ran a hand through his hair, trying to adjust it somehow. “You know what? You just gave me my first real laugh of this week”, he gave you a genuine smile and you could tell he was feeling better, “normally I don’t hang around herbivores that much. But I like ya. Thanks for stickin’ with me.”

You gave him a kind smile. “See? You’re pretty fun when you’re not being an asshole. And I assure you, you already have a reputation. Not a particularly good one, but it’s certainly….something.” 

Leona chuckled and excused himself for a moment to open the blinds on his window. He put his phone aside and all you heard from him was a sharp hiss of pain and him cursing under his breath. “The fuck happened?”, you looked at him with concern once he was back. “Stepped in glass shards”, he mumbled as if that explained anything. “Why the hell are there glass shards on your floor?” “Ancient royal trial that every member of the royal family has to go through at some point in their lives”, he commented dryly and you were pretty sure he was making this up. 

“Anyway, you should probably get first aid for that”, you raised an eyebrow. “Alright”, Leona smirked, seeming as tough as ever, “don’t miss me too much.” He winked at you before ending the call. He’s certainly growing bold now, hmm? You laughed and went to make yourself some food, awaiting his return eagerly.

It took about 30 minutes for Leona to return and start making fun of you for worrying about him so much. “I’m not made of glass, y’know?”, he smirked, “I just step in it sometimes.” 

You sigh and put your friend on speaker, tending to your kitchen appliances once more. “Did you get first-aid for your injury?”, you asked, throwing some carrots, broccoli and zucchini into the mixer. “Yeah. Staff bandaged my foot and told me to be more careful. Got a whole lecture because they’re so considerate”, Leona rolled his eyes and then cringed at the sudden loud whirring, “fuck is that noise, herbivore?” “Oh…sorry”, you apologized and turned the mixer off, “I’m making a soup. Noticed I haven’t had lunch yet today.” 

“Ew with like, vegetables and shit?”, Leona shook his head in disappointment. You chuckled. “Yes, not everyone has the strength and insanity it takes to attempt to solely live off meat”, you teased. 

“Anyway, to get back to our conversation from before, it’s nice to know I have a reputation for something, heh. Even if it’s just that”, Leona chuckled, “I don’t get people sometimes. ‘Ugh, he’s so pretty! Too bad he’s a jerk!’ Why do people keep sayin’ that? Am I supposed to be flattered or pissed?”

You laughed. “Well, I think they’re having a crisis because they’re attracted to a guy whose personality is like a matryoshka doll where you’re kinda intimidated to take off another layer because you’re not sure if it’s gonna get better or worse.”

Leona snorted. “Okay, that was a fun analogy, I’m not even gonna be mad. I’ll remember that one”, he smirked, “so, given that you have first-hand experience now, do you have the feeling it’s getting better? Or worse?” So he’s acknowledging that he’s opening up to me more than he did before, you pondered and smiled, that’s good. “Better”, you admitted, “now I know I didn’t go that wrong with giving you a chance. Anyway, what do you do all day over there?”

“Oh, nothin’ much”, Leona shrugged, “sleeping…trying to sleep, avoiding my nephew, avoiding my brother, avoiding the chamberlains, playing chess against a computer…when I arrived I drove around a bit and stopped by Elephant Legacy to take a bath in the secluded hot springs only the royal family has access to. I guess that counts for doing somethin’”

“And you made fun of Idia for being a shut-in?”, you raised an eyebrow. “I also nap outside, that disqualifies me from being a shut-in”, Leona grinned, absentmindedly playing with an old yoyo he got from a market when he was 7, “but yeah it’s pretty boring. Night Raven College is a little more interesting.”

After a week of hardly doing anything, Leona had to admit he was growing quite bored of the winter holidays. You didn’t have many plans either, so that was how the two of you ended up playing online chess. “God, with that strategy or lack thereof you have, your king is gonna be down in less than five minutes”, Leona held his head in second-hand embarrassment and reached for a glass of water to take a sip. “Oh so you think you’re close to losing?”, you smirk and heard Leona choke on his water, coughing frantically. Did you really just call him your king?, he thought with a surprised expression, his ears laid back against his head.

“What’s the matter, Leona?”, you asked and he could hear your teasing tone through the speaker, “did I perhaps fluster you?” You were really playing with fire today, huh? Leona smirked. He didn’t admit it, but he did absolutely like that. “Why don’t ya focus on your shitty ass playstyle instead, you just lost the best piece you still had on the board”, he hissed back, his tail swishing back and forth. “I didn’t see your queen there”, you whined. “What do you mean, you didn’t see it there? It was literally right next to where you were standing-”, Leona shook his head and held it with his hand, “I don’t even know where to start with this one…”

As the day went on, you got Leona to play a couple of other online board games with you, mostly luck-based ones because you insisted you were “good at them”. He also agreed to teach you some chess strategies, arguing that even with knowing them you wouldn’t be able to beat him. He never let you win. Not once. 

He had to admit that your company brought him amusement and joy. That you distracted him from the problems he was worrying about. So he didn’t mind spending his days with you. He was looking forward to seeing you again at Night Raven College. 

“Leona, it’s your turn. Leona?”, you asked when he wasn’t responding. It was already evening and the sun had set. You could hear soft breathing and some light snores coming from the phone. You smiled and closed the game the two of you were playing. Something inside you didn’t have the heart to just hang up on him. So you put your phone aside and went to bed yourself, feeling somehow closer to Leona this way.

He woke up with surprise upon finding out you were still there. He wondered whether that was intentional or not. He quickly pushed away the idea of waking up beside you; of pulling you into his arms and falling back asleep in the comfort of the blankets and your warmth. Leona pouted when he noticed the smile on his face. Then, upon having another fantastic idea, his expression turned into a mischievous smirk as he made his way over to the wardrobe where he had hidden a plastic aerophone that he confiscated from Cheka after the latter had attempted to “play a song” for him and followed him through the entire palace. He sat down next to where his phone was laying on the bed and blew into the cheap instrument; causing it to emit sounds with a terribly loud volume. He stopped just in time to hear the angry “WHAT THE FUCK, LEONA????” from your side of the call. “Rise and shine, herbivore”, you could hear him snicker. “You’re such an asshole”, you muttered.

The days went by fast when you had each other’s company. Leona kept you updated on what was happening at the palace; the stuff that wasn’t confidential at least. This mostly happened in the form of him ranting about how much it annoyed him. He had ditched the Sunset Savannah New Year’s ceremony and spent it on the palace roof, turning his camera on and letting you see the fireworks of his homeland and how the city was lit up for the celebrations. “If you ever visit, I’ll show ya around”, he had promised you.

Your presence in his life made the holidays pass by fast. When Leona stepped through the dark mirror on his way back to the school, you were already waiting for him on the other side. Both of you felt a little awkward at first. Things had changed a lot between you since you had last seen each other, after all. Leona rolled his eyes at your attempts to make smalltalk, waiting for the rest of the students to exit the mirror chamber before he opened his arms. “Come on now, y/n, don’t be a stranger”, he sighed and you stepped into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him. You hoped he didn’t have a sliver of an idea how much you had wanted this over the past few days. What you didn’t know was that Leona felt exactly the same. He held the back of your head with his hand and let you bury your face in his shoulder. Leona had his tail wrapped around your waist and you got goosebumps where it touched your arm. A strand of his hair was tickling the skin of your face and you noticed how much you liked the smell of his cologne. 

The two of you walked back to the dorms together, Leona staying closer to you than usual. Much to your surprise, the lion beastman actually showed up to class on the first day. It was his most hated lesson, even. He sat down next to you. “Glad you showed up”, you said and reached for the cup standing next to you, “I got you a coffee.” Leona inspected the beverage with surprise, not expecting you to get him something to drink on the off-chance that he came to class. You raised your eyebrow at him when you saw him sniffing at the coffee. “If you’re gonna complain that you don’t like this kind, I’m never getting you anything ever again”, you threatened and Leona patted your head. “Don’t worry, herbivore”, he smirked and took a sip from the coffee as the lesson began.

Reunited at Night Raven College, Leona still enjoyed spending his time with you. He had invited you over to show you some more strategies in chess; as it was easier to teach you anything if you were there in person. You had eaten dinner together (a bunch of meat that Leona ordered from a take-out restaurant in the village on the isle) and decided to take a breath of fresh air on the roof of the Savanaclaw dorm. Leona looked at you as you gazed at the stars. 

“Do you think the sky is fake?”, Leona was caught off-guard by your question. “The hell?”, he raised an eyebrow and sat up. “Like, the ones over the dorms. What even are the dorms? Are they actual locations the mirrors just teleport us to? Are they weird pocket dimensions? Why do I never hear anyone talking about this?”, you asked. Leona chuckled. “Considering they’re never locked and we haven’t seen anyone try to rob us yet, I thought it was pretty obvious they’re not just standing around somewhere in the wild”, he shrugged, “but yeah, this isn’t the actual night sky. The constellations are super off.” “I see someone actually paid attention in astronomy class”, you commented. “Not really”, Leona replied, “in my homeland there’s the belief that the stars are the great kings of the past who are watching over you from above. Heard the story a million times. Learnt about the constellations as time went on. If you’re worried or in despair, you can ask them for guidance and supposedly they would answer you. Personally I think that’s a bunch of humbug.” 

Leona shrugged and you thought about his words, having learnt something new about his culture. “If you believed in it…what would you ask them?”, you wondered and looked into Leona’s emerald eyes. “That’s a little too personal, don’t ya think?”, Leona smirked but then conceded, “I suppose I’d ask them why I pulled such a dumb result in fate’s lottery, among other things.” “Idia called it ‘god’s rigged gacha machine’”, you chuckled. “That’s one way to put it”, Leona mused. “Then again, you never know what life’s gonna give you”, you tried to add a more positive point of view, “who knows maybe you’ll soon receive a great deal of luck or something. You never know.”

Leona let out a bitter laugh. “Then I suppose, I’ll have to thank the great kings of the past”, he crossed his arms, “anyway, it’s getting late. We should probably head inside again.” He got up and so did you, making your way towards Leona’s room again. 

You couldn’t even react fast enough when you stumbled on the roof and fell over, Leona catching you just in time and pulling you back into balance. You were leaned against his chest and Leona was holding onto you to keep you steady. “Geez, herbivore, first you’re all talk about stickin’ by me and being my friend and now I have to prevent you from breaking your bones every 5 minutes”, Leona sighed. You pouted. “Name ONE other time where you had to prevent me from breaking my bones”, you rolled your eyes.

You only noticed then how close the two of you were. Determined to tease him back, you spoke before you realized what it was you just said. “Are we about to kiss now?”

The smirk left your face when the realization hit you. Leona, on the other hand, was having the time of his life with this. He grinned at you and let out a laugh. “My, you’re getting bold now”, his ears twitched as he laughed, “I mean, go ahead if you wanna, I ain’t gonna stop ya.” He was challenging you, part of him thinking you weren’t going to do it anyway. 

His eyes widened and he was caught off guard when you took him up on the offer and he found himself with your lips on his instead. 

Leona closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, kissing you back softly. There was a sense of relief to his kiss; as if he had waited for this to happen for centuries. He wouldn’t ever have dreamt that you might feel the same for him as he did for you. Not with the behavior he had shown to you before. Not with the way he went about his days. And yet, you had given him a chance. The chance to prove to you that he was worth it. And he swore in that moment that he was going to make the most of that.

Leona sighed against your lips and cupped your cheek with his hand, deepening the kiss eagerly. He furrowed his brows and pulled you as close to him as possible. 

When your lips parted from each other, Leona still held you in a tight embrace, resting his head on top of yours. “So…”, you began, nuzzling his neck and relaxing into his embrace, “are we going to get on people’s nerves together from now on?” “You still have to ask that? Take a hint, herbivore”, he hissed and then chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

You remained like this for a while, just holding each other as Leona looked up to the night sky. “You’re more quiet than usual”, you said softly, “what’s going through your head, hmm?” Leona rolled his eyes. “Life clowned me with irony and now I gotta thank the great kings of the past for ‘a great deal of luck or something’”, he sighed and laughed. You pressed another soft kiss to his lips and held his face in your hand, looking into his eyes with a loving expression. 

“I love you…and at the risk of sounding incredibly cheesy”, you confessed and brushed a strand of hair out of his face, “you’re my first choice, Leona. Always have been.” Leona hugged you tightly and squeezed you slightly, holding onto you like he feared you might disappear any second now. He buried his face in your neck. Your words had touched his heart and made him feel a sense of happiness and closure he was longing for for god knows how long. He kissed you once more, pouring all his pent-up attachment and care for you into the kiss as the stars gazed down on you.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 27

27. Wax Play, Glory Hole, Group Sex

The three of you weren’t initially sure about the orgy.

You’re a little possessive of each other. After all, it’s not often that three immortals manage to fall into a functional polycule. You don’t want anything, or anyone, to encroach on that; what you have is perfectly wonderful between just the three of you.

But, time went on, and though you didn’t exactly loosen your grip on each other, there were certain… things that you all came to agree on. Like it might be interesting to watch each other get fucked by different people, if only for the smug confirmation that your partners can do it better.

Besides, you're an adventurous lot. It’s nice to try anything once.

So, one evening in 1856, the three of you finally accept the invitation laid out to you by a friend at the museum - a secretly kinky lot, archaeologists - and find yourselves welcomed into a cosy parlour lit by candles.

You were met by writhing, sweaty bodies and eager, welcoming hands. Hands wishing to explore and caress. So the three of you melted into their embrace.

The thing is, the three of you are very good at sex. You’ve all had enough time to practise. So no wonder people come flocking to you.

You’re laid out on a chaise lounge. On your back you can mostly catch sight of the ceiling, but turn your head to locate your lovers as a man with an impressive girth slides his cock into your mouth. You gasp and choke him down, tears pricking your eyes as you skim the crowd.

“You are a beauty,” mutters the stranger, reaching forward to feel himself fuck your throat from the outside. A beautiful, large woman settles between your legs and slings one of them up over her shoulder before beginning to press her mouth to your sex. You’re already dripping from being fucked by several other people but keen into her touch anyway. She is magnificent with her tongue.

You can see the others, and they’re looking back at you. Crowley’s being taken over the arm of a large velvet chair, cock trapped between the fabric and his own stomach, a woman fucking him with a large faux-penis strapped to her cunt. Her hands are digging in so ferociously to poor Crowley’s hips you’re certain that she’ll leave a mark.

Well, actually, she won’t. Because Crowley’s body doesn’t allow marks to be left unless it’s by you or Aziraphale, in which case he takes great pride in displaying them.

The angel is not too far off from him. A woman is riding his face, moaning loudly as he drags his tongue up and down the soft lips of her pussy, and a pair of men are sharing his thick cock between their mouths.

You’re all enjoying it. It’s nice. But it’s not perfect. You know that you’d be making Aziraphale groan in delight, have Crowley begging to let him come. And they’d take you to ecstasy and back in return.

So the three of you end up coming back together. Your lovers sink into your already stretched and fucked-out hole but you can find one more orgasm in your boneless body to give them. You’re all covered in sweat and come and utterly exhausted, but you all find your climax one more time in each other’s arms: the way it’s meant to be.

You all clean up and leave as the evening’s festivities wind down and the opium is produced. You’re quite exhausted and are sure you can sleep for the next twenty hours if undisturbed.

“Well, that’s ticked that one off the list,” Crowley remarks, and you and Aziraphale nod in agreement.

No need to repeat it, you think. The three of you are happiest together.

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[lilibethwrites]

Bloody thou art; bloody will be thy end

Aemond Targaryen x OFC

Warnings: Angst, heavy violence, eventual smut, Targcest. This will be a very dark fic with potentially multiple disturbing or triggering elements. Each chapter will have warnings accordingly.

Summary: Rhaenyra’s firstborn daughter, Aelenore Velaryon is as vicious as she is ambitious. Growing up knowing she is a bastard and bitterly rejected by Prince Daemon, when she finds herself beginning to lose the favour of her family and infatuated with Aemond, an opportunity to earn more than any woman can have in the Seven Kingdoms presents itself. With a man as broken and wronged as herself, they burn everything around them to feel the warmth denied to them, even if their own flesh may catch on fire. Ambition and greed beget violence, and the blood of the dragon spills like wine.

Word count: 6k

Also on AO3

And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,

To entertain these fair well-spoken days,

I am determined to prove a villain

And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

(Richard III, I.i.37–40)

It was a humid, scorching summer’s eve. The flowers of the royal garden had all turned shades of burned pigments heated over a candle for too long. Grasshoppers lay heavy where they had ceased flapping their wings. The nightingales that lent their name to the hour were quiet. It was only Princess Rhaenyra’s wails and groans peppered with curses and insults that echoed off the polished walls of the Red Keep. The heir to the throne, the beloved daughter of King Viserys has been in labour for so long that the younger Maesters made to stand back and observe behind the ranks of seniors and midwives began to whisper the long winter would come before the babe ever did.

Some wondered where Ser Laenor was, others remarked that it was the Breakbones pacing the hall beyond the door, and that it was rather odd that the Commander of the City Watch took such interest in the first labour of the princess.

But the babe came, persistent as she was in remaining in the womb as if she possessed prescience enough to know the realm she was brought into would have no joy to offer.

With the blood still on her, Rhaenyra cradled the babe to her bare chest, weeping and thanking the gods of old. Even a slight rub of her hand over the babe’s head was enough to furrow brows and a new wave of mumbling to rise as if dust after her dragon’s landing. Dark hair; unmistakably, uncharacteristically dark, like the night she was delivered. Dark hair, unlike the kind on the head of the second son Queen Alicent had recently delivered in a chamber nearby.

Ser Laenor was the first to see the babe, though she was cleaned and swaddled in an ornately embroidered blanket that could tear down and rebuild the entire Flea Bottom with how many yards of soft velvet and spools of gold threads it took to weave, then.

Then joined them Harwin Strong, and only then the babe was lifted from Rhaenyra’s arms, and given a name.

“Aelenore,” Rhaenyra said proudly, still keen on the name she had come across in a tome on Old Valyria while the babe was no bigger than a fig in her belly.

“Aelenore,” Ser Harwin Strong raised the babe to his chest and whispered in her ear as Ser Laenor looked on with a proud, warm smile.

By late morrow, King Viserys was cradling his first grandchild, a babe he hadn’t once found unlikely to be the fruit of the marriage he had imposed upon two young people with the blood of Valyria in their veins.

King Viserys blessed the babe’s name, with the swaddle in his arms and pride in his eyes.

“Princess Aelenore Velaryon,” he declared, “may her life be long and prosperous.”

He commended his daughter and her husband, Ser Laenor Velaryon. Yet, Queen Alicent did not share the spirit of festivities. Having given birth to her third babe recently, another boy with the proud colours of Old Valyria, her brows creased when she beheld the babe in her husband’s arms.

Neither Aegon nor Aemond, the heirs Viserys so desperately desired that he would butcher his lover, were welcomed into the world as fervently as her husband’s first grandchild was by him.

The King was still in his prime, then, and he could pace the chamber with the babe in his arms until he grew restless, then, he would tour the shorter halls, stop by alcoves with stones warmed by the broiling sun. He accepted praises and well wishes from his court, with Rhaenyra still reclined on a chaise and Queen Alicent left alone with her.

“Congratulations,” she begrudgingly said at last.

The room was cold with resentment, and the bodies that filled it were all stiff like corpses washed ashore.

“My congratulations, as well,” Rhaenyra repaid the kindness, or the visage of it, just before Aelenore was returned.

“Rather short and without a fuss, mine own labour was,” the Queen spoke without patience at her stepdaughter’s nonchalant disregard of the rules of nature herself. Bastards were cursed, this, everyone knew. Bad omens; treacherous, sly, with deformed souls and frightening capacity for evil.

“And a rather unmistakable likeness to his sire, Aemond bears… Though, ‘tis only the first of yours,” she spoke disdainfully, then. The gentle tone with which she spoke couldn’t veil the anger stirring within her.

“I shall pray that the Gods will give you a babe that resembles… either of you next time.” Her smile was bitter, her eyes hostile.

Yet, the Gods didn’t. Next came a brother for Aelenore, with the same dark hair that tended to curl into ringlets. Aelenore gave up her toys, save for a wooden replica of her quickly growing dragon, to instead spend her waking hours near her brother. Not long after came Lucerys. Aelenore was grown enough then to participate in at least the first hour of the labour with her hand on her mother’s swollen belly. After that, she was hastily escorted out to wait along with the rest of the court. Such sights were not for a girl who would labour in a birthing bed of her own eventually.

Rhaenyra was not allowed to ever forget it, that her firstborn child was no true Targaryen, and none other that came after was any different. As if she knew from when she was a babe the meaning behind hushed whispers hidden with jewelled fingers and curious looks with thinly veiled disdain, Aelenore grew into a difficult character, unfriendly to all save her siblings.

It was King Viserys’s suggestion that the girl might enjoy playtime with a boy senior to her only by a year, and a quiet girl that never cried unless pinched or spooked. It was one of the rare times Viserys remembered at all that he had other children beyond his beloved Rhaenyra. So, Aelenore was brought with her basket of carved and painted toys to the chamber where Aegon, Helaena and Aemond were tended to. She sulked the entire time, ignoring her much-loved toys to attempt to rip the carpet out with her fingernails whenever she wasn’t attempting to decapitate her uncles with her eyes. She resented them, she suffered terribly from green-eyed jealousy that she spent all the hours thinking of all the ways she could upset the boys. She wondered if their hair would stain if she boiled flowers torn from the gardens, and dropped the concoction over their heads. She wondered if she could sneak a pair of scissors the next time royal seamstresses came to measure her for a new dress. She could chop a braid right off, or cut through the tomes the boy closer to her in age seemed to be mesmerised with. But, she never had another hour with them after the first few disastrous ones, and so her plans never came to fruition.

Aelenore surprised not a soul when she grew into a brooding young princess; quiet yet unsettling with eyes severe and pale as the smoke dancing over the sea. She was old enough to understand what it meant that her eyes were grey as a rainy morrow, and her hair dark as earth after the heavy clouds passed. She was swiftly assigned a Maester to be tutored in the proud history of her blood. She found it a rather cheap charade, and her lips were often twisted into an irreverent, lopsided smirk as the Maester harped on.

“I know what I am,” she once told her mother over tea. “I do not wish to entertain trivial lies anymore.”

But Rhaenyra was patient with her, and each time Aelenore brought the subject up, she took her hand and asked her if a child without the blood of Valyria could ever ride a dragon. To that, Aelenore shook her head. The more she was posed with the impossibility of her inferior nature by virtue of the beautiful wyrm resting in the Pit, the more her self-disdain turned to vanity.

The court was reminded of the unruly princess in her youth when her daughter insisted that she would only ever wear her riding habits. Even to breakfasts and lessons, she would don coats and trousers with gloves always neatly tucked around a belt or hanging from a pocket, and always complete with a jewelled pin of dragons.

She was a curious young woman, raining questions down upon anyone nearby about Valyria and dragons. When she wasn’t interrogating the Maesters of the Red Keep or unsettling the courtiers with her unwavering gaze set upon anyone she suspected to have whispered about her, or eating, reading and writing near her beloved dragon, she fast became a second mother to Lucerys, demanding that she learned all she could about tending to a babe. To anyone except Rhaenyra, Ser Laenor and Ser Harwin, it was so unlike that a child as cold as her eyes would ever possess the capacity for affection. Even then, they watched her with well-concealed fright when she looked over the bassinet for the first few times. Lucerys must have immediately taken a liking to his sister as well; where Rhaenyra, Leanor Velaryon and Harwin Strong all failed to lull him to sleep, Aelenore managed to soothe the fussy babe into slumber with ease that surprised even the most weathered of wetnurses.

She was proud when Lucerys’s egg hatched, swelling her chest and proclaiming that it was her choice, that egg. Luke, Jace, and Nole, as she was so adoringly and adorably called by Luke from the moment he could speak, the three siblings became inseparable... and perhaps, rather insufferable to some. They loved mischief. From tying buckets of cold water over doors to soak Maesters at early morning lectures, spilling ink on the newly-washed garbs of Septas and Septons when they delivered the daily service of the Seven, taking their dragons out of the Pit to stomp around and frightening the poor smallfolk nearby, they have become a trio of terror. Aelenore was the mastermind, the one that came up with jokes and pranks bordered on cruelty while Lucerys and Jacaerys gladly played her henchmen. Aemond had his fair share when he found his neatly written summary of a manuscript on Valyrian traditions torn to pieces on his assigned desk and the siblings missing from the lecture altogether, or when his book was drenched in ink so badly he couldn’t read a word anymore while Aelenore and Jacaerys were markedly keeping their hands gloved and under a table or behind their backs the whole day.

“I wish they would go away,” Aemond once complained to his mother. He needn’t name them.

“I know,” was all the woman could offer, and a sweet kiss to the growing boy’s temple. She was helpless in the matter; Viserys loved Rhaenyra and his grandchildren more than he ever did Alicent or the babes she produced.

Aelenore still dreamed of staining and chopping silver hairs and upsetting her uncles, though less often with her mind always on her beloved pale and crimson, slender Naerax. On the opposite end of the wing, curled up on his bed, however, Aemond began to dream of upsetting his niece, as well. He couldn’t bring himself to be anywhere as cruel and calloused as she was, and whenever his fists were squeezed into balls and he attempted to strike back with a sharp word, Aelenore happened to rub her thumb over the silver three-headed dragon pinned to her collar, and the boy stepped back.

“He’s not a real Targaryen,” she began to say to her peers, pompously and with a grotesquely mature lilt to her tone. “I am. Hair makes a man not Targaryen, but the dragon that resides within the Pit.”

On the morrow when she greeted Aemond with a smile, he thought perhaps Aelenore could yet be a friend to him despite all the mockery and cruelty. She even abandoned her usual seat between her brute of brothers and instead sat next to Aemond. He suspected she needed his neatly drawn table of irregular verbs in High Valyrian for the lesson on the afternoon, but instead, she leaned over and promised him “a grand surprise” after lunch. She claimed it was an offer of friendship, to start anew.

“What is it?” He asked, cautious still but naively excited deep down.

“Would hardly be a surprise if I said, no?”

Just a few hours after, the blush was wiped from his cheeks. His face was dirt and tear-stained; he was in Alicent’s arms, bemoaning that the grand surprise was a pig with haphazardly attached wings and his own brother in on the terrible spectacle, laughing along with the rest of them.

When Helaena’s sight came true, Aemond didn’t only find trading an eye for a dragon—the biggest and the mightiest of the realm, that was— fair. He found it a payment, a rather steep but justified cost for his prayers that Rhaenyra and her children be removed. They were. As Aemond mounted Vhagar and followed the ship that carried his family back to King’s Landing, Rhaenyra and her kin made for Dragonstone.

He found the Red Keep opened up to him with the chambers of his tormentors vacant and halls safe to roam as he pleased. The library was all his, the tutoring chamber was freed of pranks and loud chatter when it should have always been a quiet, contemplative haven of studies. He came and went as he pleased without ever having to look over his shoulder. He had Ser Criston all to himself, as well, since Aegon delved too deep into his cups to participate in sword practice.

Years passed easier for Aemond, and faster, too. A punctual man down to the mere second, he awoke, followed his schedule and slumbered expeditiously, never a minute off. He was Alicent’s honour and pride, as well as her one true friend. Days never started or ended without a visit from her beloved son, even if all they did was sit in silence by the fireplace and sip tea or wine.

It was one such day, though Aemond would look back on it later and recognise the omens that had eluded him. He was up much earlier than he should’ve been. The hour was so early that the sky was still dark. He turned to the window, and then, frustratedly, gave his back to it. He pulled the covers over his naked shoulder, then, pushed them down to his waist. He hugged a pillow to his chest, then, pushed it away, too. Nothing helped, and he knew he would go through his day exhausted, with merely a few hours of sleep.

So, he bathed longer, dressed slower, and visited Queen Alicent before breakfast. She gave him a smile that would’ve seemed like all the other smiles to any other eyes. Aemond, however, saw distress from the way his mother’s lips pursed.

He wasn’t one for empty niceties or belabouring, so his hands shifted from Alicent’s elbows to her wrists, to the raw and picked cuticles.

“Tell me, mother.”

Alicent shook her head at first, and stared out of the stained-glass windows. She knew she would be delaying the inevitable, her discomfort hardly ever eluded Aemond. She knew he would abandon his entire day’s plans to sit here with her, caring and stubborn, until she told him.

“We shall have visitors soon,” she spoke through clenched teeth, her eyes shifting to the missive left on the table where Criston had delivered it.

The downturn of Alicent’s mouth was nearly enough, though Aemond still cocked his head in a quiet question. Who?

Alicent scoffed, looking down at her son’s pale, graceful hands.

“Princess Rhaenyra and her children. Prince Daemon along with them, of course.”

If Aemond had had !breakfast, it would have heaved in his stomach.

“Why?” He nearly lamented after a moment’s silence.

“Why?!” Aelenore echoed petulantly across the sea, on Dragonstone. “Why must we go? Can you not go alone?!”

Aelenore was happy on Dragonstone. The entire land from the shores to the peaks of volcanoes was her oyster. She woke up as she pleased, strolled and flew to her heart’s desire. No one was there to accuse her own acting untoward when she unlaced her boots, uncuffed her sleeves and chased Luke across the sandy beach and the waves carried their joyous screams while their dragons flew overhead.

King’s Landing was stifling. The Red Keep’s stones did make a prison and the stained windows a cage. Aelenore almost forgot she didn’t look the part of Princess Rhaenyra’s daughter on Dragonstone. Unless Prince Daemon’s cold gaze lingered, she hardly thought of how would it be to have silver hair and violet eyes, and if they would indeed escalate one above men all by themselves. She would be abandoning her home for a sea of pale hairs and hostile eyes.

“Because,” Rhaenyra sighed over the cup she nursed as men paced around the room hurriedly. “Your grandsire’s health is in fast decline.”

“That cannot be all. We are not Maesters. What good are we to his decay?”

“But we are bringing Maesters of our own… I do not quite like you when you are so… without compassion.”

So, Prince Daemon spoke, and her mother listened, then? The conviction wasn’t Rhaenyra’s, Aelenore knew. She remained quiet yet didn’t make a move to leave the hall.

“The matter of your brother’s inheritance must be resolved,” Rhaenyra spoke again after a surrendering sigh. She only understood how difficult she had once been when her own stubbornness stared back at her.

“I will not let them rob Luke of what is rightfully his. We cannot permit it.”

Aelenore nodded to it. That, she would help her maids pack up for. That she would tolerate King’s Landing for.

“Thieves,” Aelenore spat. “They shall steal all their covetous eyes may fall upon.”

Rhaenyra shifted in her seat. She thought that Aelenore sounded too much like Daemon at times. Perhaps that was why the two were like wildfire and a burning candle.

For the following days, Aemond felt the transitory nature of all things deeply within him. Sometimes, when the halls were empty, he ran his fingers over the stone walls. Even to them he felt as though he was giving his farewell. For an hour or a moon, he would be robbed of the freedom he perhaps came to take for granted. They would be anywhere at any time; she, the head of the poisonous serpent, would be, and the rest would follow slithering.

On the morrow the entire King’s Landing crowded the crooked streets to catch a glimpse of the horde of dragons, Aemond watched the sky with disdain, with his arms folded behind him and the skin of this thumb picked so tragically alike his mother’s. The cavalry was led by Caraxes and Syrax, the unmistakable red and yellow that flew side by side. Behind them were three others, one in the front and two in the back, like an arrowhead loosened to pierce Aemond’s serenity. His eye was glued to the last two, looping around each other. The pale one with crimson wings and waxen belly that resembled Aemond curdled milk dipped and rose while the smaller, pearlescent-and-yellow one tried to sink his teeth into the elongated neck of the other.

Aemond looked to the side. Helaena didn’t seem to bother that they were so brazenly being marched upon, Aegon was hungover from a long night’s tryst to care; it was only his mother and Ser Criston among the Kingsguard that seemed tense. He would not have don a thing beyond an undershirt for a company as undeserving had it not been for Queen Alicent visiting his chambers, begging so selflessly for him to behave, for her if for nobody else.

When the heavy gates were pulled open and the vapid bunch marched on, it was only Alicent and Rhaenyra that shared a smile in courtesy. Prince Daemon’s chin was high, his nose was scrunched up as if the mere sight of the Keep nauseated him. Behind him, Jacaerys was nudging his sister and his younger brother to cease the gossip. Aemond’s eye fell and remained on the girl, taller and more mature, though only in appearance, since he last saw her. Her hair was down, though the damage to the curls showed it wasn’t always so freely flowing.

While Helaena simply embraced a new friend she barely remembered and Aegon was delighted that a pert arse under heavy skirts, pronounced waist squeezed by corsets and exposed flesh were now present to ogle, Aemond simply scoffed.

When it came to acknowledge her at all, Aemond nodded sharply. His greeting was as cold as the pale icicles that stared at him. Unsettling, he thought, her irises almost bled into the whites of her eyes. She simply nodded, as one would dismissively to a servant. Aemond’s arms were still folded behind him. He made no move to touch her; not to take her hand and press a kiss, not to offer a half-hearted hug. Aelenore didn’t seem willing to offer an olive branch either, with her gloved fingers tightly intertwined in front of her with an arrogant smirk plastered on her face.

Oh, how Aemond desired violence.

“What a warm welcome, this is,” she muttered under her breath, loud enough for Aemond to hear and Lucerys to snicker.

Behind them, servants began to drag heavy packs to the Keep. Aemond hoped it was simply out of vanity that they each brought more changes of clothes than necessary. While their chambers were prepared, Rhaenyra insisted on a visit to the King. There, it was only willing ignorance that barely maintained Rhaenyra’s illusion of her daughter. The young princess barely approached the bed and pointedly kept a handkerchief to her nose. The King’s beloved first grandchild looked down upon him with disgust, sneering at the rotting body and the dying face as his hand was left untouched by her.

“Sweet girl…” Viserys strained to no avail.

“Grandsire,” Aelenore muttered coldly after Jacaerys nudged her once again. “Lovely to see you.”

Aelenore rolled her eyes after that, looking around the room and wondering what was for supper while his mother silently wept at the corner of her father’s bed.

If the exchange in the King’s chambers was cold, the supper was the never-melting ice of the North. Where Alicent was covered to her neck, Rhaenyra and her daughter wore dresses that left their shoulders bare, and as if that was not enough, the young princess’ sleeves were split from the highest seam to the cuffs, exposing the entirety of her arms each time she so much as breathed. Aemond shook his head again and again, stabbing the pie in his plate, his eye burning into the shameless woman sitting at his side. Aelenore barely wore headdresses, and barely pinned her hair all the way up. Queen Alicent shared her son’s mind, she was one busted seam away from a harlot of the Street of Silk.

Aelenore was all wrong, Aemond thought. Untoward, improper, exposed like a desperate wench of a cheap pillow house. She laughed loudly, she moved in a manner that was ill-fitting to a princess. Aemond looked to his side again, and his brother was already charmed. Aemond hummed. Of course he would be.

“Say, when has she… blossomed and—and, sprouted such teats, hm?” Aegon slurred behind his cup to Aemond.

“I would rather not think about her… flesh,” Aemond lowered his voice along with his head, “if it’s all the same to you, brother. You’d do well to remember your wife, as well.”

The banter was cut short by Rhaenyra’s dry cough. Onto the matters at hand. She shared a look with Daemon, and he nodded in support.

“For our Maesters to study and prepare cures of their own, we must needs give them sufficient time. A moon’s time,” Rhaenyra spoke.

“During that time, my children must not fall behind in their studies. Yet, to allow Maester Gerardys to work uninterrupted, the princess and the princes must share the library yet again.”

Aemond’s head shot up along with Aelenore’s. They wouldn’t look at each other, but they shared the same sentiment. No. Absolutely not.

“Oh? So, the princess will not trust our Maesters with the care of the King, but she will entrust her children to their lectures?” Alicent was bitter in response, her brows were knitted above the practised, tight smile of courtesy.

“I trust my children to know the truth from a lie.”

Come morrow, it was very little consolation to Aemond that Rhaenyra’s bastards might be feeling as discomfited about their forced reunion as he was. He paced his room and fiddled with the neat stacks of tomes and the line of inkwells. He was always early, three days early than a minute late, he often defended his being too early that the Maester soon began to feel guilty for his being on time and not as early as his pupil was. But that morning, he wouldn’t be.

“No,” Aemond murmured to himself. That might show a sense of eagerness, and present the three-headed serpent with an opportunity to bother him. Yet, how late he had thought he was, he wasn’t as late as his tutoring partners. It was only Maester when Aemond took his seat, and it remained so for one full turn of the hourglass before the door swung open.

Aelenore was the first to enter, snickering with a tome under her arm and in yet another dress that bared more than concealed for Aemond’s taste.

“Oh?” she stopped in her tracks as though she expected the chamber to be empty, and looked back at her brothers, who were just as vain and proud of the interruption.

Aemond squeezed his fist under the table, dug his nails into his palm and with a clenched jaw, stared ahead and away from the girl that stood between him and the Maester.

“I see you start terribly earlier than Maester Gerardys does on Dragonstone. My brothers and I are rather fond of late eves, might it be that—”

Unapologetic. Proud. Without shame or decorum, Aemond thought to himself, the true mark of a bastard. Rotten to the core, a scourge. The Gods are truly testing us this time.

“And I am fond of order and duty. We shall be at odds, it seems,” he spoke up with vitriol the likes he hadn’t allowed to bubble up to the surface in so long.

Aelenore turned to him with a raised brow and a bemused smirk. At least her words were not lies, her eyes were swollen from slumber with a faint touch of darkness around them, only exacerbated by how pale her irises were.

“So it seems, Prince Aemond.”

She took her seat right next to Aemond, then, with her brothers by her side. The entire session was marred by their obnoxious giggling and the passing of notes. Aemond wondered why they would even bother to show up, though he reminded himself to be easy on them. It wasn’t their blood nor their history that was taught. Very little must have concerned them beyond a mere mention of a Valyrian lord and his harem that made the boys snicker.

As soon as the morning’s tutoring was concluded, Aemond departed without so much as a nod to the Maester and with his belongings so uncharacteristically collected in haste. Large steps carried him to the comfort of the secluded corner of the Keep’s larger library, to the dim spot that became a second bedchamber to him. He went to scribbling angrily. He was distracted, his cursive was sloppy, his words out of order, his thoughts mismanaged. The treatise was all wrong, he knew, yet the more he crumpled up parchments and started anew, the worse it got.

He heard the clicking of heels on the stone floor, then. Curious, he thought, as Queen Alicent knew not to disturb Aemond unless an urgency demanded it. Yet, the heels that dragged without hurry didn’t denote any such urgency. For once, Aemond hoped to be wrong in his conjecture as he looked up from his work.

There she was, the bane of his peace, the curse of all the malicious spirits of Valyrian mythos. She had a thin stack of parchment in her hands, strolling as if she were in the gardens between aisles of tall bookshelves. Aemond watched her with the suspended fury of a dragon prepared to strike out of the dark. She stopped soon after, reached up for a book and only raised dust. She stepped back, looked around once again, and pulled a few heavier tomes without discrimination only to toss them to the floor and step on them. Aemond had half a mind to jump from his seat and strangle the girl. A barbarian would be more reverent than she was, he thought. Gods, the state of Dragonstone must make even an untaught common man weep. A wicked den of sin where the heraldry of the Seven must be mocked in orgies and the written word was torn from bindings to wipe the aftermath off.

“You again,” Aelenore’s contemptuous acknowledgement pulled Aemond out of his thoughts. “I was hoping to be alone.”

“You would be, if you remained in your chamber and spared us the displeasure of your company.”

How dare she? This very spot has been always his from the moment the pain in his eye subsided. Would she be so misled of the mind to think she could usurp his home?

Aelenore seemed unbothered by his retort. In fact, it was Aemond who was the more perplexed one. He expected all sorts of disgrace from her, yet such blatant disrespect from a prince would—should have sent any woman with a modicum of virtue fleeing from his presence in shame. He assumed even Aegon’s whores must be more dignified than Princess Eleanore. Some princess she made.

“Do you not have more… princely pastimes?” She retorted.

“Are scholarly endeavours not princely enough for you?”

“No. Scholarly work is a consolatory waste of time for those who are not befitting to don a sword or fly a dragon.”

Aelenore turned her back to Aemond without waiting for his response and tossed the book to a table nearby. She was used to having the final say so long as the addressee wasn’t Prince Daemon.

“Both I can do,” Aemond rose from his seat and followed her, aggravated and ready to prove his words should she question his proficiency with either.

“Hm. No doubt,” she snorted with her head buried in the old tome.

“Who are you to subject me to lowly mockery?!” Aemond thought to demand with his hands wrapped around her neck. It was slender enough that even a single hand would do, and her body was easy enough to fling out of the window. But instead, his hand moved to his eyepatch. A reminder, a reassurance, a prayer: It passed, this will, too. It passed, she will pass, too. Only a matter of time. All passes, the good and the bad.

“But how well is the question, is it not, Prince Aemond?” She spoke up again. It seemed it wasn’t only Aemond who wasn’t willing to conclude this exchange.

“You do have certain… odds against you, do you not?” She pulled back from the book with a menacing look and an ugly smirk that Aemond wanted nothing more than to cut from her face with a letter opener.

“You did start flying later than all of us, and the sword? With your… unfortunate circumstance… well.” Her cold gaze shifted so pointedly from his face to the sword leaning against his desk, then, back to him.

“If you wish to challenge me to a flight or a duel, say it so plainly, Princess,” he spat the title as if it were a curse.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Though I am surprised you wouldthink to take for an opponent a woman rather than your own sex.”

The Stranger’s mistress. A vermin. A freak of nature. Something to be eradicated, stomped out before it sprouts her branches further.

“Apologies. I mistook your brothers for proper princes, but they are not the kind to be your champions, are they?” The fire within him was stoked with each moment he spent standing near her. He knew it to be a mistake, a man in command of his emotions wouldn’t have entertained a bastard who clearly wished to drag him down to the depths of hell she swam in. Yet, Aemond remained as if stuck to the mast of a ship drifting towards tall rocks.

“They would much rather hide behind skirts than face me.”

“They would not face you, that much is true, though for entirely different reasons.” She didn’t give Aemond the chance to give in to his impulses entirely. In a matter that seemed radically different from the frivolous villain she has been so far, Aelenore discarded her quill and reasoned. Though she spoke too slowly for it not to be insulting at least in the slightest.

“Because I am no more pleased than you are that I am here and neither are my brothers. Yet, no blood shall be drawn as I would like to fancy us all, yes, even you, Aemond, above simple brutes or mindless animals. No iron shall be drawn, no duels shall be had. I assure you I count the days until I am gone more eagerly than you.”

Aemond remained quiet with his lips pursed and his eye slowly dragging across her face. Maybe she could be reasoned with, after all. But he reminded himself that a bastard’s oath was bound with a withering twig; an easy tug and it was undone.

Both Aelenore and Aemond stayed in their heads for a moment, staring at each other but entirely unseeing. Aemond thought of all the ways Aelenore had wronged him. He remembered how she had run to Jace and Luke, how she had kneeled by them, holding washcloths to their noses and lips while his eye was sewn shut by a needle about the size used to weave thick blankets. He remembered how she had encouraged the boys to speak up, how she was the one to give voice to them.

“Aemond” she had called him with disdain, “slandered the princes.” Princes. Bastards. Treacherous liars.

“He called my brothers bastards, mother,” she had spoken with false solemnity, her pale, lifeless eyes dragging from Rhaenyra to Viserys so deviously.

On the morrow, they had all laughed. They had broken fast, they had jested and chatted while Aemond’s life changed forever. That was her, that has always been her. An uncaring, dangerous creature in love with misery and misfortune so long as none befell her.

He realized she was indeed at his mercy then and there. He could claim an eye for his, perhaps do not stop there and cut an ear, too, for interest. Perhaps even half of her ugly, upturned nose that perpetually disdained everything it saw. Consequences be damned, he thought, yet his shoulders fell and he blinked out of trance all the same. He felt the familiar throbbing in the back of his head slowly creeping to surround the precious stone lodged in his eye.

“I do not want you here, in the library,” Aemond spoke sharply. He was threatening enough that Aelenore was no longer too eager to tease him. “Find yourself elsewhere to spread your rot.”

It was his turn to speak the final word, and Aemond spun on his heels to abandon his study and Aelenore both. For once, he would break his schedule to demand Ser Criston’s time without a prior appointment, and he would do unto a sturdy shield and a worthier opponent perhaps half of what he so passionately desired to do to the girl invading his sanctuary.

[an-otterly-adorable-being]

An Old Acquaintance: Moxxie & Millie x ArmsDealer!Poly!Reader Headcanons

I really enjoyed this if I'm being honest. I'm a sucker for childhood friends getting out of contact and reuniting years later and becoming partners. Will probably do one for Stolas eventually. Hope y'all enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------

• It's not a suprise that selling weapons in Wrath raked in a decent amount of money.

• Whether its the locals, a passing assassin, security teams, there was good money to be made, and you took full advantage of that.

• You grew up in Wrath, and from a young age you learned the value of keeping a keen eye on anyone you meet, and a hand on your revolver.

• So, when you figured you had some... connections and a silver tounge, why wouldn't you keep that attitude with your business?

• You weren't rich by any means, but you lived a comfortable life, staying at your family's ranch and helping pay for upkeep.

• Sometimes, when you got fancy clients or very rare items, you even helped get some upgrades made around the house.

• He'd never admit it, but your brother loves the new cooking appliances.

• Back to the important stuff, business had been somewhat slow, but you were in contact with an imp from Pride interested in buying a lot of guns.

• Apparently he ran an assassination business, and apparently he'd be sending two of his employees down to talk terms.

• It wasn't an unusual request, not by a long shot, but not many demons sent a duo to negotiate with you.

• Either way, you didn't particularly care. Until they arrived.

• The guy you vaguely recognized from the last harvest moon festival, but the girl, you recognized her right away.

• Although you and Millie didn't interact much now, your parents certainly did, so you still saw eachother a decent amount.

• Actually, the brother mentioned early got a cushy chef job in Gluttony, and the plan was to invite her family over, since Mrs. Lin was the one who introduced him to the culinary world.

• Needless to say, the two of you had a pretty good time catching up.

• You also had a pretty good time getting to know Millie's husband, Moxxie.

• Moxxie was a far cry from Millie, but was still rather charming.

• Plus, you all could bond over your on-sale arsenal.

• You actually made a handful of jokes about having to steal Moxxie away at some point, which were recieved relatively well.

• After a long conversation, you finally got around to your job and negotiated a deal, but before they left, you invited them over to the party for tonight.

• Moxxie seemed a bit hesitant, but Millie did get along with your brother more than you, and let's be honest, it's hard to say no to Millie.

• Her family was a bit suprised to see them that night, but overall things went smoothly.

• Throughout the night though, you kept getting drunker and drunker.

• You weren't sure why, but you knew that, at the very least, the party didn't get ruined because of it.

• Still, no matter how much you drank, there was a, well, it felt like a knot in your stomach.

• It was just about the time you lost the ability to think about what you were saying that you realized why.

• And that's when Millie and Moxxie sat next to you, and your memory got super blurry.

• You ended up waking up with a massive hangover, a reminder of why you don't usually drink.

• You didn't realize it for a good few minutes, but someone had moved you into your bed.

• It was pretty early in the morning, earlier than what you and your family was used to, so no one else should've been awake.

• Apparently, Moxxie and Millie were

• They had stayed for the night, mostly so they could talk to you in the morning.

• Turns out, you had told them that you thought you were in love with both of them, and that the three of you should be in a big ol' poly relationship.

• That...sounded right, and you knew it probably was.

• You weren't sure what it was, but you had been really drawn to the two of them.

• Granted, you were just going to try to move on, but now you had to deal with the consequences.

• Well, you would've if there were any consequences.

• Both Moxxie and Millie were actually fine with it, which came as a big shock.

• And it turned out that Moxxie thought you were kind of cute?

• They both had to get back to Pride, but left their number before you left.

• Yeah, you'd definitely have to ask them both out when you're more sober.

• For now though, you need coffee and food before your hangover takes you out of commission.

[manjiroscum]

CHOCOLATE KISSES

Character/s: Ran Haitani, Manjiro Sano, Kakucho, Seishu Inui, & Ken Ryuguji.

Warnings: gn!reader, Valentine's Day shenanigans, suggestive themes, just hearts day headcanons for these men, too much chocolate, and fluff. Minors do not interact.

RAN

Gives you the best chocolate in the market. Of course, he would.

Would make them himself if he had the time. Or if he isn’t so lazy.

Takes pride in his tastes.

He doesn’t care if he goes overboard or if the chocolate is expensive. Ran would rather shoot himself than give you cheap chocolate, even if you don’t mind.

One time, he gave you a box of chocolates from Belgium because Rindou told him they make delicious chocolates.

Although he gave them to you, Ran eats them more than you do. Expect him to use them during sexy time, because he can.

MANJIRO

Watched Emma make them on Valentine’s Day. Would rather eat than help.

He isn’t a big fan of chocolate, though.

Mikey is banned from the kitchen for a reason. Storebought chocolates are what he gives you most of the time.

He tried to make you homemade chocolates which ended up melting before he could give them to you.

May not be a fan of chocolate, but likes them with almonds or nuts. He likes the crunchy texture.

Also, he likes to kiss you while you eat chocolates because you taste much sweeter than usual. He can also use that opportunity to dirty your face and outfit so that he’ll have the excuse to undress you.

KAKUCHO

Kakucho makes the best chocolates, better than those sold at stores.

He will readily make them before Valentine’s Day. He’s stealthy enough that you wouldn’t notice he bought ingredients the day before.

Unbeknownst to you, he keeps practicing weeks before Valentine’s.

He distracts you with other things and makes you sleep early so he can prepare.

Kakucho knows your tastes and doesn’t want to fail. He loves the compliments you throw at him whenever he cooks or bakes.

Izana sometimes asks Kakucho for tips or watches his friend. Kakucho would often blush at Izana’s teasing.

SEISHU

Inupi is not bad at romance, but he isn’t the romantic type. He is blunt and doesn’t lie to you if he failed to give you chocolates because Valentine’s Day wasn’t something he celebrated until you came into his life.

Koko would merely shake his head at his friend for failing to surprise you at times.

Don’t worry, though. He makes it up to you after Valentine’s Day or later in the evening.

Leave it up to Kokonoi to suggest something as bizarre as chocolate-flavored condoms.

Inupi, who is still guilty of not preparing himself, buys you flowers the next day.

Your boyfriend swears he will try harder next time, adorably presenting you with the bouquet he got.

DRAKEN

Draken may act oblivious or uncaring towards Valentine’s Day, but don’t be fooled.

Inside, he is panicking over what he should give you in celebration of hearts day.

Poor Draken gets laughed at by Mikey. Yet, he is too engrossed in reading a girl’s magazine in hopes he will find the perfect answer to his problems.

After hours of deliberating, he buys you strawberry-flavored chocolates and a stuffed bear.

You try to get him to take some of the chocolate, hoping to share them with Draken. But he isn’t too keen on sweets.

After dinner, he calls for you to sit beside him on the couch. Just this once, he will subject himself to watching some sappy romance film with you. You couldn’t be happier.

🎐taglist: @riszu @ranilingus @wakaslut @festive @marism @wakasa-wifey @zuuki @stffychn @keijisprettygirl @cryptred @tobidabio @leavemealonebutinpink @dottores @kamisoria @tokyometronetwork @chloee0x0 @bunnyjiros @emissaire @chronic-claire-universe @saecore

[lostsoulau-ask]

Favorite holiday?

Hoo! Thats interesting!

Comet loves the New Year's festivities (Solar and Lunar New Year :]) alongside everything that got fire works in them.

Buddy loves Chrismas! Its a comforting day alongside Shard, Crowny and the peoples he made friends with! Theres also Valentines day its a nice day with him and his mouse boi!

If Crowny had a clear consept of what a hollyday is, she would love Thanksgiving and Easter! And even more April fools day. For her Thanksgiving is a "lots of free food" day, easter is a "hunting day" and april fools is "Time for me to cause chaos"

Shard/Lucid is a big fan of Halloween and Chrismas! He tries to get a different costume each year to stay in the Halloween spirit! ...Even if after a while, Lucid will have to wear older costumes. ...Also he will be like an exited child when he sees snow-

As for Nightmare, he apreciate Thanksgiving and St. Patrick’s Day. He wont tell that he loves Easter or Halloween

And they all celebrate pride month but i think that is a given :D

Undercut are the Mirror counterpart !

MirrorComet is mostly there on Easter, she likes eating chocolate.

Tyrant apreciate St Patrick's Day the more, he won't bother much withe the others beside Thanksgiving, he despise Valentines day however-

The Doctor Somius loves halloween for the fact that since hes a fear driven Dark Matter it is not only free food but its encouraged to scare peoples. While he was not merciful in terms of scares the first few years, he had to tone it down because the Nightmare Slayer wasn't keen on causing panic. He also apreciate a lot Valentines day-

Speaking of this, Phobos used to loves New year's Eve, despite being a Dark Matter, he can't help but stare at the sky from the bottom of the Fountain. Refusing to get out due to a deep clutching fear that is still tearing him apart.

[justmemethings]

Disclaimer ! I'm not the original creator of these fill-up memes. I simply collected them from the search section / dash. The credit goes to the original source (which unfortunately I haven't been able to track down.

𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

bold what applies. repost, don’t reblog!

APHRODITE. laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO. glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a tinder account.

ARES. armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS. keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, dishevelled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA. discerning gaze, unreadable face, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes.

DEMETER. soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS. drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theatre masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS. the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles.

HERA. resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold.

HERMES. devil-may-care smile, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road space trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON. storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, stroking the soft fur of a cat , their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow.

ZEUS. thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, expensive watch.

tagged by: tagging:

[starlightinitiative]

Hello hello! Mod Ki'to here, and I am the humble Mooncat behind @humblemooncat (Clever, isn't it? I'll see myself out-)

I'll be helping out with the festivities this year offering my services as an omnigatherer, tank, and my access to things such as skybuilders' and island goodies (For which I have a plethora of currency)!

So, if you need help getting certain things you might not yet have access to, collecting an abundance of resources, or a tank to help level or farm, I'm your man. o7

To introduce myself a bit more for those who've never seen me around before, I run the aforementioned blog as my main hub for all things FFXIV, but generally I just post about my main catboys and assorted ocs!

My mains in-game are my Warriors of Sunlight & Moonlight, U'lohi Tia ("Orange Sherbert" in-game) and Ki'to Vashai.

Though Lohi's home world is Halicarnassus, Dynamis, you can generally find them both on Zalera, Crystal! If I'm not on one, chances are I'm on the other. ;3c

I also run the sideblog @hikinghydaelyn, made for a challenge alt I play from time to time whose main goal is to rp walk the whole MSQ.

Other than the usual MSQ updates for Lohi, and my personal "Mooncat ramblings", I also pride myself on my gposes, my occasional writing (My Playlist drabbles and "A Journey of Remembrance" being my favorites), and my art!

For those who aren't keen on links, you can find my favored examples for my gposes & art under the read more!

Thank you for reading, and I look forward to seeing you all and maybe helping make your Starlight wishes come true! <3

Mod Ki'to

(Some) Favored Gposes

Favored Art

[fellpurpose]

[ Sparkling Water ] - Fresh spring water that has been magically carbonated. Served with a squeeze of lime or a dash of one of the many fruit syrups available at the bartender’s disposal. 

Craning his neck over the counter, Dimitri was amazed at the sheer amount of jewel-colored cordials that the bartender had at their disposal. Flavors of a more mundane variety, sure - blueberry, which the bartender appeared to be dropping into black coffee at the moment - but others he had not even heard of.

"Oh! Excuse me!" Excitement mounted as his eyes alighted on words that he did know, flavors that lingered in his memory from cold nights in the Faerghan winters of his childhood. "Would I be able to just try these two...?"

At the bartender's acquiescence, Dimitri beamed, inordinately pleased. When his eye caught on another familiar sight, he added, "May I have two, actually?"

Drinks in hand, Dimitri jogged to catch up with the fluttering, glinting dark shaped that he understood to be Professor Dark.

"Professor! Good evening. Are you enjoying yourself? Oh, please - " Remembering himself, Dimitri handed off the extra glass of sparkling water, the swirl of syrup at settling to the bottom. "I discovered that the bartender had access to some flavors of my home, juniper and black currant. I believe you may enjoy them - they are unusual to some palates, but I always enjoyed them."

He wished he could still taste the sharp resin or the tart berries, but he supposed that his memory would suffice, just this once.

indeed, he has been enjoying the revelry — a marvel most extraordinary! odin would be hard-pressed not to revel amidst the night's merriment, the festivities a welcome respite from a life beset by endless wars.

"prince dimitri!" a wild grin, followed by a sweeping, low bow. "very much. i hope the same for you." odin observes with keen interest as the boy procures an offering, delight alighting his features. a most thoughtful gesture indeed, and one that even stirs the heartstrings, though he makes no mention of it.

"how exciting! you have my gratitude." he is no stranger to the pangs of homesickness, a yearning for times past. scant remnants linger of his beloved ylisse, and seldom does he chance upon relics of those bygone days. "...the famed kingdom of faerghus!" he muses aloud. "a land of unparalleled nobility, from all accounts. your pride is well-founded. i shall be delighted to try."

odin regards the beverage before him, casting an intrigued gaze whilst giving the glass a grandiose swirl. "to a grand night!" with a swift motion, he dispatches the libation, the effervescence bursting forth with a subtle earthiness and a tart, fruity essence that lingers upon the palate. he pauses briefly, contemplating a final judgment.

"MOST gratifying, prince dimitri!" he opines with a nod of approval, his smile growing. "your discernment shines brightly amidst the sea of mediocrity! should i one day chance upon a flavor reminiscent of my own birthplace...you will be the first to sample it."

[buttercup-art]

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS

TAGGED BY: Kinda stole this from @hyperionhugo because I found this on their blog and wanted to do it for Noa!

TAGGING:  Anyone who wants to join in!

(adding a cut because it's a long post lol)

APHRODITE          laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, thrives on attention, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, your girlfriend thinks they’re attractive, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO          glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile-mingled wrath, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a Tinder account.

ARES         armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fists raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell will make you think, exhausted, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS          keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA          discerning gaze, unreadable face, the patience of a lifelong teacher, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, go-getter, balls of wool displayed on shelves, ancient buildings, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes.  

DEMETER          soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants (elementals), leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS         drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS        sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles

HERA          resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold.

HERMES        devil-may-care smile, ink-stained hands, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you journey to your destination, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON     storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, the sea casting its spell, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns for more, leather jackets, fondness for DIY projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow.

ZEUS     thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, pretends they don’t have feelings but they do, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy calendar with ease, most likely to be voted class president out of their peers, expensive watch.

[iiguess]

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.

BOLD for always, italics for sometimes/in some AUs only.

APHRODITE. laughter-loving. sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles. in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks. strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored.

APOLLO. glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold. neatly organized music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonderwall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paintbrushes. probably has a tinder account.

ARES. armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses. curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS. keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. disheveled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA. discerning gaze. unreadable face. quiet museums. owl perched on their finger. armor that intimidates. eye for architecture. plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses. studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colors. hair done up. can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.

DEMETER. soil covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS. drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin. sleek furred panthers. theatre masks. stage productions. receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch. wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty. grand opera houses. masquerade balls. rolls of film. shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS. the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

HERA. resting bitch face. dressed to the nines. cows grazing on a pasture. cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls. large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under fuck it. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.

HERMES. devil - may - care smile. always up - to - date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON. storm with skin. colorful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever - changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.

HADES. walking home alone in the early morning. back alleys. drinking alone in a graveyard. crippling loneliness hidden by sarcasm and cynicism. crows picking a carcass. untended dead flowers. the black sheep of the family. black coffee. money can’t buy you happiness. murder mystery dinner parties. blood on your shirt collar. dust illuminated by sunlight. classical music. dogs are better than people. a quiet wrath. shady business deals. taking what you are owed. paint it black. seasonal affective disorder. popping the suit collar. grey rain on a cityscape.

ZEUS. thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. unnatural charisma. eloquence. badass in a nice suit. an aficionado of history. force of nature. lennyface. nightmare-filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high-rise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.

STOLEN FROM: @phantomuheist TAGGING: Steal it from me my dudes

[thedickgraysonrp]

𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

bold what applies. Italics if sometimes. Repost, don’t reblog!

APHRODITE. laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO. glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a tinder account.

ARES. armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS. keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, dishevelled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA. discerning gaze, unreadable face, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes.

DEMETER. soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS. drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theatre masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS. the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles.

HERA. resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold.

HERMES. devil-may-care smile, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road space trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON. storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, stroking the soft fur of a cat , their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow.

ZEUS. thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, expensive watch.

Taken from: @justmemethings Tagging: You there, with the shades! I see you!

[bluenews]

3RD - 9TH JUNE 2024.

THE HEADLINES

SPLIT HAPPENS — BLUE LANES TEMPORARY CLOSURE

Summer party season kicked off with a bang with the birthday part of Thunder Road owner, CJ Welford. Unfortunately, reports from staff and partygoers alike have suggested alleged property damage, including multiple dents in the lanes and ceilings, and an estimated five pairs of bowling shoes missing from the venue. It is unknown what penalties Welford will be facing, and if his reputation is in the gutter, or if he will be spared by his charm. Owner of Blue Lanes has stated that that the bowling alley, popular with families and college students alike, will be remained close until 'mid-June' as they fix and replace all broken and missing.

A SATIS-FACTORY DEAL — POTENTIAL BUYERS AT OLD WEAVER RIDGE WAREHOUSE

Weaver Ridge is a time capsule for industry past, the home of many warehouses abandoned over time. Despite the growing crime rate reported in the neighborhood, it is reported that investors are keen to bring the town's former industrial hub back to its former glory, and are looking into striking a deal with the town council in the purchase of one of the larger vacant factories.

WEEKLY FORECAST

Despite the rising temperatures to bring us into the hot summer nights, this week will be cloudy with that bright sun just poking through, with light rain expected early Tuesday.

Monday — 87°F / 67°F — sunny with clouds

Tuesday — 83°F / 68°F — light showers early AM

Wednesday — 83°F / 64°F — sunny with clouds

Thursday — 82°F / 60°F — sunny with clouds

Friday — 79°F / 59°F — sunny with clouds

Saturday — 82°F / 63°F — sunny with clouds

Sunday — 81°F / 61°F — sunny with clouds

TOWN HAPPENINGS

Happy PRIDE Month Blue Harbor! Kickstarting the festivities, the following establishments have these following deals and activities on offer:

20% off medium coffees at Caffélicious

10% off for loyalty members at Carnal Knowledge (18+ only!)

LGBTQ+ Awarness — month long seminars and workshops held at Bright Sparks in association with Blue Harbor University

Taste the Rainbow at Chilled Creamery! 100% of the funds for the limited edition flavor will be going towards fundraising for Bright Sparks.

COMMUNITY BOARD

The following open starters could use a litle love!

Imogen Ashbury @ CJ's Baller Birthday!

Kate Nava @ her private boat dock!

[cannivalisms]

random question but does the world of terras town have any sort of religion

swear i've been sitting on answering this one for literal months now i'm. so sorry! wanted to be in a more tt mood again before replying (i'm still not fully but nostalgia is hitting hard on this friday night. btw).

also yeah! so since tt exists as a refraction (and opposition) of the town right above it, its no surprise that its religion also has similar (and skewed) foundations. considering lev's hometown is largely christian (& catholic), aka structured around a man dying for them, surprise! tt's is all about a woman being killed by them. which actually fits into their general day to day beliefs and attitudes more than you'd think.

so, just as lev's world has Our Lord, tt has Our Lady. and god in their case came from the earths, her divine body both one with the sand and also somehow sleeping deep within it. and in popular mythos, this is how the people of terras also first came to be: chewing and tearing their way free from her flesh, and thus becoming imbued along the way with a small spark of her divinity (aka, their magic). but subsequently, for each new person 'born', god grew weaker, until eventually self preservation rose and she woke up, with the aim to swallow them all back down again and re-become whole. this is the point where the people of terras proceeded to band together and kill her to maintain their lives. bonding activities fr

anyway it's no real surprise that as a result religious virtue in tt is based less around humility and fearing your god, and more about personal pride and surpassing them. terran religion is meant to uplift the self, promote determination and senses of justice, and encourage unity in the face of greater evils, since they are literally all each other have in the middle of this cut off dreambubble wasteland. these beliefs also tie though as to why the council & upper classes in terras generally suppress or hand wave away most religious affairs - last thing they need here is the lower classes to start being like oh shit right, we are so powerful actually, we can take on those corrupt bastards in charge if we all stick together haha!!!. it's not like they'll discriminate or outright prohibit religious displays or holidays, since that tends to only breed fiercer devotion and encourage the unwanted behavior, but for each religious holiday, some other follow up festivity or something will be made to sort of remind people of their power in particular. yk. power that you can actually see and touch and fear. not the general sense of power that allowed us all to hypothetically kill a god once upon a time. so. it's also why they encourage the vitriol and suspicion people in the lower classes have for each other.

unfortunately these attempts have also sort of largely worked, since there is not a lot to be proud of when you're fighting from day to day to survive to the next - or a lot to trust when your neighbor seems keen to stab you in the back. religious people exist in terras, but they're not that frequent (esp amongst The Masses), and are also usually dismissed more as optimists.

anyway past this, there's also some other branches off this primary faith - main sub groups include people who maintain that the Lady willingly let herself be killed instead of being gloriously defeated, and that there is no honor to be found in that kind of victory and that terras town citizens should be repenting for the original sin (sounds more familiar right?) vs people who maintain that the Lady wasn't ever really killed, only pushed back into slumber, and that one day she'll rise again to swallow them all - and that the people of tt must be ready to band together when that happens and truly defeat her for good etc etc. most people in tt find the former group whiny, if not downright heretical if they too are religious (who are you to try and shame us for our proudest and core tenet?), and the second cringe as fuck, plus slightly hererical if we are being picky (the whole point is that she's fucking dead dude).

oh and also there's the breakers. right. forgot about them. they are not connected to religion so much as they are like... the science of terras town, but they're a cult so i guess they sort of count in this section too. basically their full title is the barrier breakers, they think terras and the upper world need to be unified in a great rapture, and that the first sign of this happening will be the two planes 'swapping blood.' & they are going to love lev ❤️