#listen i know lions can't purr (which is an absolute shame)

[0bticeo]

everybody wants to be a cat.

leona kingscholar, for all his power and status and pride, remains akin to a cat. a very anthropomorphised, handsome cat bestowed with destructive magic, but a cat nevertheless. you’d know - he’d given you the same scorned look your cat used to upon being risen from a blissful nap. in his defence, you had stepped on his tail. you may or may not have gushed a little after apologising. not your fault if you really like cats.

“wow, you really are just like a cat.” 

he had sent you a puzzled look. there you were, crouching in front of him, a little grin on your face, taking him in, from his striking eyes to his tail swishing on the ground. he’d grumbled, then.

“don’t push it, herbivore. you wouldn’t want me to bite you.”

in the long run, he ends up overblotting and sinking his claws into your arm. here you are, a strangled scream dying on your tongue as his claws draw blood, blot dripping down your skin with a sickening sizzle.

pain. burning pain. blinding agony takes a hold of you and brings you to your knees, perfect supplicant under the wrathful gaze of the king of beasts.

you can feel your arm start to decay in his grip, skin like fine sand under his fingers. you grasp leona’s wrist, nails digging in his ashen skin - nevermind the blot dripping down on you, nevermind the pain.

“leona, please, let go.”

you don’t know if he does. you can’t find it in yourself to blame him - not with how his past is being poured down in your mind, not when you taste the bitterness of it in your very marrow until you black out.

when you open your eyes, you find yourself in the familiar sheets of an infirmary bed, with strong arms wrapped around your middle, careful not to press against your bandaged arm.

your eyes widen.

“leona?”

a low rumble. you freeze. leona kingscholar, second prince of sunset savanna, is cuddling you up, thumbs drawing abstract patterns on your waist. and he’s purring, the vibration low and soothing against your back, until you find yourself smiling ever so softly.

“always knew you were just a big cat.”

he nips at your nape.

“don’t push it, herbivore.”

you don’t tell him you can feel his lips curl against your skin.