#leonhart boots

[amywritesthings]

I love the Hallo-sleepover idea! Can I request "my friend abandoned me at this halloween party and I don't know anyone. But you look as miserable as I feel" at a bonfire with Levi (:

hallo-sleepover '24!

of course!! this was the most requested prompt in 5 separate asks, so of course i wanted to present you a little levi on halloween day. xo hope you enjoy!

homemade.

pairing: levi ackerman x reader word count: 1.2k tags: modern au, adult language, halloween parties, first meet, levi ackerman as ghostface, reader as bride of frankenstein, mention of annie as your friend credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

read on ao3.

Everyone’s too loud. The Halloween music keeps repeating.

Not even swirling the bright orange plastic cup in your hand can salvage the separation of pineapple and white rum.

At least the warm crackle of the open fire pit in the backyard feels nice.

You’re not sure why you agreed to come to this Halloween party with Annie — you knew she was going to see one solo cup and run for the pong table to demolish the competition — but you’d worked tirelessly on your costume this year.

Not that you had anywhere to go to show it off — cons got too expensive this year, work days blurred into nights, and before you knew it the date of October 31 was sitting impatiently on your doorstep. 

Waiting on your front porch handing out candy to little ones wasn’t a bad idea.

Trick or Treaters are cute.

(Except you can’t imagine any of the kiddos willingly taking a Snickers bar from the hands of a screen-accurate rendition of the Bride of Frankenstein.)

So you'd get dressed up, fill a pumpkin bucket, and hang out for the night, right?

Wrong.

That plan wasn’t acceptable to your friend, Annie Leonhart.

The moment she arrived at your doorstep in full costume, Annie acted as if staying home was a cardinal sin.

“You didn’t have a plan for this?” Annie asked incredulously. ���Are you joking, dude? Come on. This costume is sick.”

Before you stood an elaborate (see: terrifying) rendition of Lady Death: Annie’s blue eyes were sunken in by copious black eyeshadow, her lips cut into the illusion of teeth under a terrifying black veil obscuring most of her face. On her body was what looked to be a dyed thrift store wedding dress, dark as the night sky above.

She gestures to your wrapped mummified dress and large cylindrical white-and-gray wig — all hand-sewn, all homemade — with equally blackened fingertips, gooey with fake blood.

“What?” you murmur, looking down at your dress like something has gone astray.

“What?!” she repeats with a snort. “Oh, no. You’re not wasting this on sitting on a porch. C’mon, we’re going to Reiner’s thing.”

“Annie,” you groan, giving her a pleading look. “You know I hate parties.”

“Yeah? And I hate idiots who waste good costumes,” she retorts, grabbing your hand with hers to fly into your house. “What do you need? Grab your keys and phone, we’re going.”

(Yeah, you’re used to her bulldozing by now.)

It’s what brought you here — stuck at a bonfire, waiting for an appropriate time to ditch and call a Lyft back to your house.

Annie’s no doubt in the semifinals of the competition, so you can’t imagine you’ll see her for the rest of the night.

It’s fine.

It’s fine, you’ll just wait another ten and—

A flash of black clothes shuffles past you to flop unceremoniously into a lawn chair. With a grunt, their legs extend towards the bonfire, the tip of their boots tapping the brick surrounding the pit. 

Slumping into the chair, you recognize the costume right away: it isn’t a traditional Ghostface given the dark denim jeans and the black henley shirt with rolled-up sleeves, but the elongated white and black ghoulish mask is unmistakable.

Unable to help yourself, you watch as the fire illuminates the veins in their forearms. His gloved hand palms the entire mask and rips it off of his face, causing your whole body to have a hot flash.

Oh.

Oh, no.

The Ghostface at the party is hot.

Immediately his bluish-gray eyes find you when he sits back in his chair once more. The black fringe of his hair clings to his forehead like the mask had been suffocating him to a sweat, complimenting his high cheekbones. 

Lips parted, you note the way he gives your costume a once over before speaking in the most rumbled, honey silk voice.

“Bride of Frank, right?”

Blinking twice, you continue to stare. When a few beats of silence pass, the stranger’s chin drops closer to his chest, brow expectant with an arch.

“You’re looking at me like I missed a reboot this year.”

Wait.

He’s talking to you.

Clearing your throat, you sit up taller and absently reach for your tall wig to make sure it’s in place. 

“No, you’re right. The Bride from the 1935 film.” 

You try to smile, though it gets lost somewhere in your anxiety. 

“And you’re Ghostface, right? From the movie Scream?”

The stranger nods. 

“Sort of. Found a mask half-off at the store, but I wasn’t wearing a damn nightgown.”

“The black clothes still fit the look,” you try to reassure, and he snorts.

“You’re far more forgiving than the Michael Myers I came here with,” he states, “but that friend abandoned my ass at this Halloween party, and I don’t know anyone else here, so.”

Crossing his legs by the ankles and his arms over his chest, he continues to observe your costume. From the flicker of the fire, his expression almost seems appreciative of your work.

“You did a damn good job,” he adds, “which is a shame, because you look as miserable as I feel.”

The surprise praise causes your face to heat up.

“I wouldn’t say miserable.”

“Bored?”

“Oh, definitely bored.”

He snorts. “Yeah, me too. I hate this shit.”

“Parties?”

“Halloween parties,” the stranger clarifies. “If everyone showed up to this shit dressed as elaborately as you, then I’d probably eat my own words.” He tosses a thumb back to the house. “I can’t tell you how many goddamn half-baked Jokers there are in that house.”

Somewhere in the midst of his rant is another compliment.

Toying with one of the ends of the mummified dress you wear, you find yourself shrugging a shoulder. “Not everyone has busybody time like me to make a costume, to be fair.”

“Wait.” He sits up more, sitting the Ghostface mask on his lap. “You made that?”

When you nod, you feel your body match the bonfire’s temperature. Annie gave you compliments by the plenty, but that was Annie. Everyone else at this party had been too busy getting drunk or too occupied to notice.

But he did.

“How’d you do it?” he asks with what seems to be genuine curiosity, though you wave it off.

“It’s boring.”

“Doubt it.”

“No, it really is,” you state, but the stranger leans closer with intrigue. You can’t move away, too mesmerized by how damn gorgeous he is. “And knowing me, I could ramble on for hours, so—”

“Hey, I have time.”

The man clears his throat and holds up the Ghostface mask as if it’ll somehow convince you.

“Might as well make the most of this damn thing while we’re stuck here, right? If anything, you’d be saving me from another goddamn Scary Movie reference inside, so you're doing me a favor by rambling for hours.”

The mention brings a slow and relaxed smile to your lips.

Right.

The ye ol’ wasssssaaaaaap to anyone with a Ghostface mask.

“Fine,” you relent, and you swear your mind is playing tricks on you when it sees a half-smile form on his own face, but the fire swipes it away just as fast. “But at least tell me your name — unless you want me to call you Ghostface.”

The man shakes his head, the fringe of his black hair following with him.

“Levi,” he introduces, softer this time. “Just call me Levi.”

[uldahstreetrat]

glamtober - 22. ball or party

Q'ihnn actually isn't usually very comfortable without his armor on, so it's a rare occurrence indeed to see him all dressed up (ﾉ∀`♥)

glamour details!

Valentione Forget-me-not Waistcoat - Jet Black, Jet Black Summer Sunset Wrist Torques Leonhart Bottoms Rebel Boots - Jet Black Voice of the Just

[candycryptids]

Day 1 of Glamtober! - On The Road

Full prompt list for Glamtober [Here]

Nothin better than some sturdy knee-thigh length boots for the dusty roads in Thanalan! And the Leonhart Jacket is a staple in Lev’s wardrobe- sleeves to keep the sun off his arms and a fur trim for when it’s chilly in the night. And he hardly ever takes off his Gloves; a must-have barrier for touching things with the scars on his hands. Who knows if it’s going to be too hot or too cold to touch? Not Lev!

Lucky him, he’s hitching a ride to Horizon :)

Levraut is wearing; Leonhart Jacket (wine red, goobbue grey) Leonhart Gloves Replica Dreadwyrm Slops of Scouting (soot black) Anemos Expeditionary Boots

Redbill Scarf

Shader is [Fairy- Autumn Day]

[khajiitclaws]

Glamtober Day 9 — Melee

A true rogue sticks to the shadows, swift as they are lethal. A predator in waiting, lurking unseen, until it is the moment to strike.

Earrings: Classical Earrings of Aiming

Body: Rinascita Jacket of Scouting (Snow White)

Hands: Rinascita Armguards of Scouting

Legs: Leonhart Bottoms

Feet: Cryptlurker’s Boots of Scouting

Weapon: Augmented Law’s Order Knives

[letoasai]

He forgot about the bees

Squall stared across his yard and was somewhat positive the panic he was feeling was not showing across his face. He couldn’t afford for it to. If he showed alarm, then the puppies would feed off that anxiety and end up in a frenzy. 

Prompto and Denzel were only just starting to feel confident in their wandering. The puppies didn’t like for Cloud and Squall to be out of their sight for more than a minute or two so the boys crawling around in the grass was great progress. 

He’d told them to play nice with the chickens out back, but he’d completely forgotten to warn them about the bees. 

Now Prompto was sniffing around the hives and Denzel was giving a curious look to the buzzing bees that were starting to surround them. They weren’t at all struck with the jitters as that buzzing got louder. 

Had they been older, had they not been held captive by Hojo and experimented on their entire lives, he might have just shouted at them to be careful and let them figure it out on their own. As things were, he couldn’t stand the thought of the puppies getting stung. 

Flinging out magic wildly would also be counterproductive and he was not going to destroy his hives. All the same, the boys seemed to have no idea how dangerous this could potentially be. 

Alright Leonhart. Alright. Get it together. He just needed to casually stroll over there and grab his puppies. 

“You’re over thinking.” Cloud said softly, and Squall ignored the way the hair on the back of his neck stood up as Cloud snuck up on him. 

“Am not…” 

Cloud huffed and leaned against Squall’s back affectionately. “Snack.” 

He didn’t shout, his voice was only just barely raised at all but two little heads whipped in their direction. There was only the smallest hesitation before both puppies started trotting towards them. They out ran the bees without even realizing it, heading for safety. 

“See?” Cloud said, the faintest teasing lilt to his voice. 

Squall just sagged in relief and bent to pick up the smaller puppy that crashed into his boots. He held Denzel while Cloud lifted Prompto into his arms. He’d have to ward around the beehives. He’d need to sit down with the pups too and explain that bees could be grumpy and ouchie when chased. 

Denzel licked at his chin and he knew the childproofing was worth it. “Let’s go get that snack…”

~~~ Main story on Ao3 - Familiars

[rougepancake]

PROMPT 14!!! (“You heard me take it off”) WITH HANGE/HISTORIA/ANNIE/YMIR!!!

(I’m so Downbad for them😭)

😩😩😩

Prompt 14 - “You heard me. take. it. off.”

Ft. Hange Zoe, Historia Reiss, Annie Leonhart, & Ymir

Warnings: Strip poker in Hange’s, zest all the way around tbh, Annie and Ymir being mean (who’s surprised tho), not full smut (sorry everyone LOL-), Historia being cunning (mentions of cheating in hers), dubcon. Not proofread lmaooo-

HANGE ZOE

“You want to play what?” Levi scoffed, looking at Hange with a disgusted expression. He was leaning against the doorway of Erwin’s office, having recently returned from an expedition with his crew. He was going to report to Erwin and leave, but now Hange has his attention.

“Strip poker.” Erwin chuckled, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the idea.

“Hange how exactly did you come up with this?” You tilted your head and crossed your arms, giving them a slightly judgmental look, only to follow it up with a giggle. You couldn’t keep up the act, so you just gave in and looked over at Levi.

“Well- it came to me in a dream! Whoever loses has to take an article of clothing off and so on and so forth.” They grinned and placed their hands on their hips, wriggling their eyebrows at Levi. “What? Are you scared?” They teased and Erwin snickered softly.

“The hell I am. I’m great a poker.” He grumbled and sat down at the table near Erwin’s desk, waiting for the rest of you three to join him.

A couple rounds in, and you were losing bad. You had already taken off your corps jacket and your thigh high boots. If you lost one more game then you’d be taking off your shirt, and while it did sound like a good time, you had some rather nasty scars on your torso- and you weren’t about to sit down and explain it.

“Ahaha!” Hange laughed, smiling as you lost the game once again. Erwin gave you a reassuring smile and Levi simply scoffed.

It was always those three getting you into trouble.

“You know what that means Y/n. Take off your button up.” Levi pointed and Hange hushed him, looking at you expectantly.

Nervously, you took a swig of the whiskey before you before slowly unbuttoning your shirt. You stopped and looked at Erwin, who would hopefully be your saving grace here.

“W-Well I’m feeling sort of tired, you know?” You faked a yawn, letting out a surprised gasp as Hange leaned in and glared at you through their glasses.

“You heard Levi, darling.” They whispered lowly, a dark smirk forming on their lips. You swallowed thickly, Hange’s hands coming up and resting on top of yours. “Take. It. Off.”

HISTORIA REISS

You had been drinking with the rest of the troops, but snuck away to hang out with Historia. The blonde had you behind the barracks, kissing you silly, which was terrifying for you since you knew Ymir had a thing for her.

She was taking control of the whole situation, which was definitely unexpected compared to her whole personality. She was just an easygoing girl with strong morals, and a damn good set of lips.

It was like she had done this before, with how her hands just slid up your sides effortlessly, making you breathless as her lips continued to move against yours.

You were unable to say anything when she pulled away, stunned into silence by the mischievous look in her eyes.

“Ymir would love you.” She whispered, her fingers quickly unbuttoning her shirt. And while she was fast, she was still a tease. Once she had unbuttoned hers, her hands went to yours, but you stopped her.

“H-Historia I don’t know if this is the best thing to do. I mean just look at where we are.” You tried to explain to her that the chances of you getting caught were high, and you didn’t want to risk it.

But she didn’t care.

Of course.

Blondes and their needless determination.

“Come on Y/n. Just take it off. I promise we won’t get caught.” She smiled, and you felt your heart skip a beat. She was so sweet, but you knew what she was doing.

“B-But-“

She cut you off, placing a finger against your lips as her seemingly innocent smile grew. “Didn’t you hear me?” She giggled. “Take it off.” Her eyes shined beautifully underneath the moonlight, and you couldn’t turn her down with how damned sweet her tone was.

She was addictive, and if she wasn’t with Ymir, you’d put the prettiest rock on her finger.

ANNIE LEONHART

Finally.

After months of training and preparation, you had her right where you wanted her.

Or so you thought.

“What the hell are you doing?” She asked, kicking you to the ground with ease. You hated how she was your sparring partner, but you had no other options, so you were stuck with her.

With a groan, you got back to your feet and dusted yourself off. The crowd around you watched in surprise, silently rooting for you.

“Doesn’t matter what I’m doing now. What matters is what I’m going to do.” You smirked, squaring up and taking the defensive side as Annie reared up for another kick.

“Oh yeah?“ She scoffed and brought her leg up and hit your arm harshly, but you countered it by grabbing her leg with your left hand and pulling her to the ground. She hit the ground and the crowd around you cheered, clapping at your victory.

As they cleared out, you bent down and helped Annie up, only to be pinned to the ground by her.

Great. She was pissed.

“What the fuck was that?!?” She whisper shouted, her fists clenching your shirt as she straddled your chest.

If your life weren’t on the line right now, you would’ve found this all very attractive.

“Payback.” You huffed, moving to shove her off but failing. “I’m tired of your ass pushing me around all the time. I don’t care if you’re my sparring partner or not, it’s annoying.” You rolled your eyes and rolled over, pinning her underneath you now, your hand resting lightly on her throat.

“You’re an easy target.” She sighed and loosened her grip on your shirt. Her arms fell down to her sides and you took this as your moment.

“And you’re hot.” You smirked and removed your hand from her throat, sitting back some so she could prop herself up on her elbows. She didn’t seem phased in the slightest, but her eyes betrayed her curiosity.

You lazily stood up and pulled her off the ground, dragging her behind the storage shed and pinning her up against the wooden wall. You put your knee between her legs and applied pressure, your lustful hatred for your rival growing.

“Take off your pants. Let’s get this over with.” You watched her expression change to a challenging one, her eyes shining defiantly.

“Do it yourself.”

Ugh. Blondes and their needless determination.

“You heard me.” You leaned forward and smirked. “Take. Them. Off.”

YMIR

She was oddly illusive, and you couldn’t help but be drawn in by her false sense of confidence. She acted like she was a god, like she was better than the rest of you.

And you hated it.

It was her, Annie, and Mikasa that put themselves up on these high pedestals that they used to look down on everyone.

They all looked out for themselves.

No one else.

Which- in a way - wasn’t that bad. Cause why get attached if you’re just going to die anyways?

Sasha waved her hand in front of your face, pulling you back to reality. She grinned and called you out on your ‘broodiness’, which only annoyed you further.

Jean and Connie dragged Sasha along and left you to deal with Ymir, who had made eye contact with you and was now walking over to where you stood.

“Like what you see?” She smirked and leaned against the table before you.

Wow the sun had really brought out her freckles…

“I don’t typically fall for women with god complexes.” You shrugged it off and raised an eyebrow, staring into her eyes.

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that.” Ymir winked and took a seat at the table, waving you over with a singular finger.

“Oh really? So you know my type better than I do? Is that what you’re saying?” You smirked and sat down across from her, your eyes shining.

You couldn’t lie. You were invested.

But she was still a bitch.

“Of course.” She chuckled and leaned forward, her voice lowering. You felt your breath hitch and your heart rate quicken. “Just look at you, Y/n. You’re a mess and I haven’t even gotten to touch you yet.” You felt your face flush harshly, your tough act breaking.

“Shut up. You don’t know jack shit about me.” You argued, shooting a glare as you attempted to cover up your embarrassment.

“It’s embarrassing to watch you lie like this. But I won’t stop you.” She winked and stood up, walking over to you and grabbing your wrist, dragging you behind her as she walked.

“What the hell are you planning?” You spat, pulling your wrist from her grasp. With a huff, you followed her off the base and into the forest some, coming to a clearing and stopping behind her.

“Well. I figured that since you want me so bad, that you’d be able to give me a test drive.” She smirked and placed a hand on her hip, looking over her shoulder at you. “Now go ahead and get undressed for me. And behave yourself.” She teased, running a hand through her hair. “You’re all bark and no bite, but I’m both. So watch it.”

You froze and looked down at your clothes, swallowing thickly.

Damn you hadn’t expected it to be this easy.

“Can’t you help me?” You raised an eyebrow, your tone wavering slightly.

“I know damn well you heard me the first time.” You could feel her ego grow, and you blushed profusely. “Take. off. your. clothes.”

[wsjyuyuyuau]

May I see Allen Avadonia from the Evillious Chronicles?

Name: Allen Avadonia

Series: The Evillious Chronicles

Gender: Male

Status: Alive

Family: Riliane (Sister)

Flower Motif: Yellow Carnation (Dianthus caryophyllus)

Flower Meaning: Naivety

Weapon of Choice: Sabre

Associated With: Interdimensional Hero Club (Ally)

Hero Form Appearance: A combination of a spoiled noble boy’s outfit and YuYuYu’s Hero Form outfits. The undersuit of the outfit is a jet black to match his heart, but it also helps the yellow stand out a lot more. The main outfit is mostly a golden yellow, and as you near the tailcoat, lower half of the sleeves, and the area of the pants past the knees, it shifts gears to a lighter yellow. The accent colors are gold, silver, red, orange, black, gray, white, and bronze. The boots, cufflinks, and the tie all have patterns themed around the yellow carnation, while the only accessory aside from the yellow carnation tie clasp is a hair tie themed around the flower, which holds up Allen’s hair. The yellow carnation’s petal shape can be seen in the cufflinks, collar, and tailcoat.

Full Bloom Gauge Location: Left Knee

Guardian: Sunspot (Based on a Golden Eagle + Mountain Lion Gryphon)

Favorite Food: Carbonara

Parallel To: None

Bio: Allen Avadonia, born Alexiel Lucifen d'Autriche and regarded as The Servant of Evil, was the last Prince of the Kingdom of Lucifenia and a servant to his twin sister, Princess Riliane. After the death of their father, the twins were separated in a political dispute. Pronounced dead and adopted by Leonhart Avadonia, "Allen" returned to the royal palace to serve as his sister's chamberlain, helping exterminate any opposition to Riliane's tyranny.

[soulsalight]

headcanon | musings | gallery | interactions

name: Irvine Kinneas age: 22 (during FFVIII), 34 (default verse) birthday: November 24 gender: cis male pronouns: he/him sexuality: pansexual occupation: SeeD (Balamb Garden, FFVIII), Instructor (default verse) height: 6'3" / 190cm build: tall, muscular but on the lean side, sharp facial features attire: cowboy hat, trench coat, vest, gloves, boots hair: chestnut brown, long and usually tied in a low ponytail eyes: blue laterality: right-handed personality traits: charismatic, independent, laid-back, flirtatious, overly relaxed, cocky, nosy notable skills: excellent marksmanship, easy understanding of firearms and ammunition, sniper's patience and precision, quick reflexes, charismatic and persuasive

Synopsis: A sharpshooter trained by Galbadia Garden's military program, who later joins forces with Squall Leonhart and other SeeD from Balamb Garden. He's known for his laid-back, easygoing persona and expert marksmanship, making light of any situation, even if it may warrant a more... serious approach. While he often presents himself as a flirtatious and confident gunslinger, he's not exempt from self-doubt, nor can he always hide the fact that he is a deeply introspective and sensitive individual. He often struggles with the pressure of making crucials shots, yet remains fiercely loyal to his friends and will put everything on the line when it truly matters.

BIO: Irvine's earliest memories consist mostly of playing with his friends at the orphanage near the lighthouse. There is only one other before that, and he isn't entirely sure whether it is an actual memory, or merely what the mind of a lonely orphan conjured up as a vision of what he thinks his parents should have been.

He has a fever. His mother holds him in his arms. Leaning in close, her long chestnut colored hair falls over her shoulder in soft waves. She's lowly humming a lullably while lightly dabbing a wet cloth against his forehead. He can see his father sit across the room, meticulously going about taking apart his rifle, cleaning every part before reassembling it and then securely putting it away. He walks over to check on them. He says something to Irvine's mother, then leans in to kiss her temple before he puts one of his hands against Irvine's forehead to check his temperature. Despite the sickness, Irvine feels safe. He falls asleep.

Irvine imagined sometimes that his father was a Galbadian soldier, but with how hazy his memory is there is just no way to know if it's the truth or something he made up and later took for granted how seamlessly it fit into his own narrative. Still, Irvine keeps that one scene close to his chest, cherishing the sense of belonging it instilled in him when he didn't have much else.

He doesn't remember anything else from before his time at the orphanage, and he often tells himself that he doesn't need to. He was a few years older than the other kids there, but they became fast friends nonetheless. Irvine holds these memories just a dear as the one of his parents and he carried them with him to Galbadia when he was taken into the Seed program there.

With the idea of his father having been a soldier and his own seemingly innate ability to hit any mark with every kind of projectile he has gotten his hands on Irvine's choice of weapon quickly became that of handguns and rifles. The easy-going and open persona he quickly adopted after ariving at Galbadia clashed harshly with the style of teaching that was used there, but it still earned him quite a few friends among his peers and the fact that he was one of the more talented marksmen among all of the students within the program spared him the brunt of the instructors' wrath, as his talents outshone his tendency to talk back to his superiors.

Irvine also has a tendency to stick his nose where it doesn't belong and to overhear things by 'accident' when he has no business being within earshot in the first place. It's a talent to be able to get people to talk, and his charisma has proven to be an excellent source of rumors and gossip, but he realized in his early teens that it is also an invaluable skill to be able to gather information when no one expects you to, because they're too busy being exasperated about the things you say.

At the very least it's how he caught wind of the mission to assassinate the sorceress before it ever hit the official channels and thus it allowed him to get himself in the exact position that was needed to be chosen for the mission in the first place. It's not necessarily that he wanted to do it, but thinking about someone else taking a shot at the woman that practically raised him stirred him to action, even though he wasn't sure if he'd even be able to take the shot himself. He couldn't have imagined to meet Squall and the others again, but the fact that they were the SeeDs sent by Balamb to accompany him made it all feel eerily like fate. And like he had made the right decision.

From then on, life got ... bumpy. Hell, Irvine isn't completely certain that half of what they've been through really happened or if all of it was just about the most elaborate fever dream he's ever had, but... the fact remains that Balamb Garden has become his home and his friends are now closer to being family. It's why he stuck around even after the dust settled and Ultimecia was defeated.

Irvine never thought of himself as the teaching sort of person, but with little else to do than try and find a way to do his part in rebuilding the world after the aftermath of the time compression left it destroyed, he sort of fell into the process of becoming an instructor at Balamb Garden. He's not overly fond of the fact that they're still teaching children to become soldiers, but in a world like their own one cannot afford to not be able to wield a weapon or protect those one holds dear.

[foxgirlbeans]

Glamtober 21st- Another World

if you'd pick any world to visit why not the thirteenth? aside from the hordes of ravenous voidsent, the distinct lack of ground to stand on, and all the purple, of course. still, you can be goo, or maybe even a giant green lady who uses her hair to attack people, there's a weirdly large number of those!

at least you can visit somewhere nicer from time to time...

weapon: Ragnarok Zeta Replica (regal purple / blood red)

head: Wyvernskin Mane of Fending (grape purple)

body: Asuran Hara-ate of Fending (currant purple)

hands: Claws of the Beast (blood red)

legs: Leonhart Bottoms (blood red / regal purple)

feet: High Summoner's Boots (none/none)

[estelamoon]

Tribute to ANNIE LEONHART from ATTACK ON TITAN

❝There was only one moment where you seemed to be alive… and those were when you could show off your combat skills. So, tell me, Annie… What are your reasons for fighting?❞

-Eren Jaeger.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

© CC CREDITS:

Hair by @kamiiri

Hoodie by @bonehlda

Boots by Guemara

Pose by @rayw05771

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[reveromantique]

spotify wrapped meme | anonymous asked:

🎁 ~I'm honestly just curious what Sei would have for songs.

He dreams of a desolate nowhere.

(This is why he hates to sleep, why he lives in cat-naps and disrupted REM cycles.)

Gray rocky nothing, an endless path to the end, except that the end is just more of the same, more nothing, more starless dark.

(He thinks, at one point, that he hears Leonhart's voice, calling for help-- wouldn't that be some kind of irony, the hero and the villain caught in the same hell?)

Seifer's boots leave no prints, Hyperion's tip scratches no scars into the ground.

Hello! Someone! Anyone!

His words come back empty to his own ears, a slap in the face that doesn't land.

--

He dreams of a red room, of a black chandelier turned nearly bone by its dripping wax.

(He doesn't want to be here.)

The chandelier is eclipsed, blocked from view; dark feathers and a snarling sneer fill his gaze instead, her body mutated-grotesque, her claws at his chin, her claws digging into the space over his heart.

(He rarely leaves this room not covered in his own blood.)

Her hips rise and fall-- he cannot help but follow, chasing what he understands (he doesn't understand this, doesn't understand why.)

Mine, she whispers like a lover against his mouth, mine, she breathes into his lungs.

Mine, she carves into his back, talons spread wide, burning her nails into his flesh.

--

He dreams of nothing and nowhere and missiles arcing across the sky, and wishes he didn't dream of anything at all.

[skaylanphear]

Final Fantasy VIII: Reclamation

Summary: Squall Leonhart has known only one thing all his life—that he was born and raised to be a SeeD. But being an elite mercenary is no easy task. Having grown up sheltered beneath Balamb Garden’s ring, he soon finds himself scrambling to stay alive after his first real mission thrusts him and his teammates onto the political stage in a bad way. Forced to head out into the dangerous, unforgiving wilds or face execution, they find themselves unraveling the ancient mysteries of their world, all while another sorceress war looms on the horizon. Haunted by strange, unexplainable dreams about a man he doesn’t know, and bound to the might of the crystals by abilities he can’t explain, Squall finds himself walking blindly into an uncertain future, even as he’s assured that “fate” guides his every step.

Yet, as circumstances grow murkier, Squall can’t help feeling that everyone else knows more about everything—including himself—than he does, and that he’s nothing more than a pawn in a game he doesn’t know how to play.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Birds of a Feather

With little time to clean up before homeroom started, Squall scrubbed down only his cropped leather jacket and his black harness boots, once he'd arrived at his dorm room. He also exchanged his v-neck for another and his jeans for a pair of black pants. It took a bit longer to scrub the mud and blood from the fur collar that lined his jacket, but, thankfully, it was back to its normal silver-white once he'd finished.

Lastly, he went to the communal bathroom and, relieved he was mostly alone (he was cutting it rather close to the time homeroom started, thus no one was around), he leaned in over one of the sinks and, glaring into the mirror, poked at the bandage still stuck between his eyes.

There was no way he could keep it on during his field review—it hindered his vision.

Supposing there was nothing for it, Squall pushed his shaggy hair out of the way and, careful not to tug too harshly and cause himself to start bleeding, peeled the bandage away. Doing so did, admittedly, sting, the new scar throbbing as it was revealed to the open air.

It… didn't look great. Stretching diagonally from above his right brow and down between his eyes, it ended about halfway down his nose on the left side. With it being so fresh, it was swollen and red, the skin around the main mark puffy and discolored. Dr. Kadowaki had clearly used skin glue to try and seal it closed, hence why it felt so tight, but the shiny adhesive only made the cut all the more pronounced.

Leave it to Seifer to choose his face for such an attack and not literally any other part of his body. Oh well—not like he had a slew of beauty pageants lined up.

Glad it at least wasn't bleeding, Squall left it alone and headed out for homeroom. He only had ten minutes to get there, and so ended up sprinting across campus to the central building. Once inside, he jogged for the elevator situated at the center of the main floor and managed to slide inside with a group of students as the doors closed.

They were young cadets, some of them in uniform, some not, and they all fell quiet as a result of his presence. Staring up at him, one of them motioned between their eyes and whispered, while another audibly muttered, "I know him—he's that scary gunbade guy from the weapons presentation at the beginning of the year."

Read More

[alfavictor]

Absent Plans

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan

Warnings: None, Rated T because its SnK.

Relationships: minor Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart, Reiner Braun & Annie Leonhart

Summary:

“Don’t keep me in suspense, Armin. I’m sure you have a plan. You had one to corner me.”

OR

Annie regretted what she had to do when she got to Paradis, but she did what had to be done. She had hoped that the scouts would never have to make the same choice. Annie’s thoughts before the attack on the Jaegerist Port.

They made an odd group, Annie mused. Two groups, an ocean, culture, and centuries apart, once comrades, then enemies, and now as of a day ago, reluctant allies. She had saved, spared, and tried to kill them all at one point or another. Still, she was glad to have the backup after seeing the port. 

“We have no choice but to kill them all with our first strike. That’s the only way we can secure the flying boat” Annie laid out the situation. It was better in a way; it had been so long since she had been part of a straightforward military operation with clear enemy combatants. Away from the treachery, lies, and sneaking around that had dominated her experience on the island. 

“To pull this off, everyone has to be in sync. Our titan power with your firepower. Understood?” A simple plan straight out of a Marleyan military textbook. Titans to create a foothold supported by infantry for a crushing first strike. 

Expecting quick acknowledgement, Annie looked around curiously when silence greeted her. Not a single one of the scouts could meet her eyes. Connie of course, was the first one to speak up, voice quivering with a mix of frustration and desperation., “Just hold on a second.”

“What's the problem?” Annie replied tersely. Connie simply sighed and looked at his boots.

Mikasa stepped in. “They’re holding all the Azumabito hostage. We need to keep them out of the line of fire.”

Annie bit back a scoff. “You expect us to care about that? We won’t protect people who attacked our homeland just because they’re your distant cousins.”

“Slow down Annie. If the hostages are killed, the rest of the plan falls apart.” Pieck cautiously interjected. Annie blinked. She hadn’t thought about the mechanics needed to get the flying boat operational, so focused on getting back home and seeing her father. And when the conversation drifted to Onynakopon, and the group began discussing the necessity of the Azumabito, Annie let her mind wander. Pieck didn’t know the scouts, but she had spent three years training with them. And she knew that their hesitation about the plan didn’t stem from saving a few hostages. 

Were they scared? But they’re a bunch of principled, fearless idiots. They chose to join the survey corps, fighting titans with swords for a chance of a better future for what they thought was the entirety of humanity. They’re giving up an ensured, total victory to work with people who have betrayed, lied, and killed their friends to do what they feel is right. What could get them so hesitant?

When Annie realized, she almost laughed at the absurdity. How naive could they be? 

“I get it.” Annie spoke up, the group turning their attention on her. “But to confirm, you’re asking us to protect the Azumabito technicians from the Jaegerists long enough to get the boat plane ready to fly.” A couple of hesitant nods to that. Annie’s tone turned mocking. “And let me guess. You want us to hold the enemy off for this unknown amount of time? Without killing any of them?”

Jean, as always, ignored the cutting tone and took her question at face value. “Yeah, I don’t want to kill any of them. Hell, we trained with most of them, fought alongside them in the Survey Corps all these years.”

Did all the Paradisans turn stupid in the last four years? “Then I’m sure you’ve got a plan. Think you can fill me in? You must have a bright idea to keep all those Jaegerists away indefinitely without killing them?” Annie rhetorically asked, knowing this sentiment was nothing more than a desperate wish. 

Annie turned to Armin, the mastermind of the Survey Corps. “Don’t keep me in suspense, Armin. I’m sure you have a plan.” Armin met her eyes, blue orbs once full of dreams now turned heavy. Bitterness turned her speech acrid and falsely soft as she crossed her arms. “You had one to corner me.” Armin looked away, his eyes filling with an emotion Annie couldn’t quite identify.

Annie knew her anger wasn’t exactly fair. Her betrayal had come first and had been the most cutting. She had barely been convinced by Armin’s laughable excuses all those years ago in Stohess. But she had chosen to spare Armin, had chosen to spare the boy with kind eyes and dreams of seeing the ocean, and she had paid the price. 

“Hold on. We know this is a long shot, but we’re doing this to save lives!” Connie had always been the loudest, the most outspoken, the one with the least filter between his heart and his mouth outside of Eren. “You’re telling me we’ll have to gun down a bunch of our friends to save the world? That’s so messed up!” Connie’s face had become stricken at the end of his outburst, glazed in a mix of horror, fear, and anguish.

Annie's throat tightened uncomfortably, and a deep sense of dread settled heavily in her chest. She had seen that expression before. She’d seen it on Reiner and Bertolt’s face on the rooftops of Trost. Maybe it had been etched on her face as well. 

Annie closed her eyes, willing herself into control. Instead unbidden memories that she had seen countless times welled up. 

A freckled face that had only shown kindness to her, now filled with fear and confusion. Pleading, begging, and crying. 

“What are you doing!? Annie, I thought we were friends?”

“Please, please! I don’t want to die here. Please don’t kill me!”

“...we haven’t even talked about this!”

Inhuman, desperate screams as the titan tore him apart. Broken remnants of his body strewn across the cobblestone in the ash covered city.

“I’m sorry.” Annie breathed out. I’m sorry Marco. I’m sorry I killed you. I’m sorry Armin. I’m sorry for being a traitor, a liar, a monster. I’m sorry for not being the person you all thought I was. Now, she couldn’t bear to meet the eyes of any of the scouts. “This will be a pretty ugly operation. We can’t expect you to take part in this.” Annie’s words were no carefully longer considered, she simply said what felt right, whatever made her chest feel slightly lighter. “We don’t even have the right to ask you to make that choice.”

They were good people, and she was not. “You’re not like us. If it had been you in our place, you probably would have chosen differently than we did that day. You wouldn’t have breached the wall,” and killed Armin’s only family, a traitorous little voice reminded, the one that held onto every single one of Armin’s words for four years.

If a Marleyan instructor had heard her, they would have cut her from the Warrior program for sabotaging a good operational plan to save the conscience of the Paradisan Devils. If her father had heard her, he would have beat her until she knew to never show mercy or kindness again. 

To her surprise, Reiner's voice broke the silence from beside her, and he stepped forward. “None of you need to join this battle. Stick with Gabi and Falco, stay at a safe distance and observe. You’ll have to defend yourself if the Jaegerists spot you, so be prepared to fight. But for now, just stay out of it.” Annie glanced at Reiner, whose face was set with the guilt of past actions but also a protective resolve. 

Maybe Annie shouldn’t have been surprised. Out of all of them, Reiner and Annie were maybe the only ones who could understand, the only ones who were both at a time Marleyan Warriors and Paradisan Soldiers, both Titans and Titan fighters, no matter how ill-suited they may be at the role. How laughable that they were now the glue that might hold the group together. It should have been Bertolt. Sweet, shy, attentive Bertolt, who always listened to each side. Who was friendly without a hint of malice. Not Reiner, who couldn’t seem to decide between wanting to see all the Paradisans live long, happy and fulfilling lives or seeing them all dead for the glory of Marley. Not Annie, who would do anything to accomplish her mission and return to that house in the woods to the man who had only acted like her father once.   

This plan was objectively terrible. The part of Annie that had been bred into a specialized weapon for Marley—the one that saw all life, including her own, as disposable—protested. But it felt right, and Annie couldn't find it in herself to speak up against it.

Of course, the scouts knew it too. “...And let you guys kill each other while we sit back and watch?” Connie questioned. Just be selfish for once in your short lives idiots.   

“Would that work? Could Titans even win this even without infantry backing them up?” Jean followed. Take the way out. Don’t force yourselves to make this choice. None of you deserve that Annie pleaded. 

As General Magath and the commander of the survey corps—Hange, if memory served—approached to persuade the scouts, Annie felt the return of dread, its weight settling once again. And when Armin spoke for the group and agreed to fight, her stomach plummeted. They would all be damned now, just like her, Reiner, and Bertolt. She looked once more into Armin’s eyes; she always seemed to return to them. Perhaps a habit built out of years of using his voice as an anchor in a lonely, dark prison. They were filled with desperation, yes, but now a tinge of resignation, an acceptance of what type of person he was about to become.

It was cruel, Annie decided, that kind, good people would be forced to do the same things people like her had done. Her father’s mantra echoed through her mind, a persistent reminder that “What must be done, must be done, no matter what. Complete your mission.” Yet now, instead of offering its usual comfort and resolve, the mantra only fueled her exhaustion; the weight of its truth felt heavier than ever.

A/N:

Finally got the motivation and passion to write a fanfic after a decade of reading and hundreds of AruAni fics. I feel like this scene found in S4P2E10 is really overlooked from a character development standpoint. If you didn’t watch the OVA, this is really the first time that Annie shows some level of regret over her actions, and Reiner turns his regret into actual actions to try to benefit the scouts. Yes, I took dialogue from the sub, dub, and manga translations. At some points, I felt that the dub had better translations than the sub (the figures of speech feel a lot more accurate and less awkward), but I wanted to keep the iconic “corner me” line that the sub has, leading to this mish mash. Also loved the potential for some AruAni development, because while I think Annie would understand why Armin tried to trap her, there would be some feelings associated with Stohess that would need to be worked through. I found literally 0 fics about this scene, so I decided to write one myself. It was honestly really helpful already having a framework of dialogue to work off of, really just allowed me to think about the characters. 

Honestly, after looking at the OVA, I kind of wished SnK had a better way of integrating character centric episodes into the main storyline. I feel like a lot of fans missed the OVA even though they provide critical characterization for Levi, Annie, and Mikasa. Annie’s OVA especially made me rethink her character, she really goes from psychopathic killing machine to someone who deeply regrets her actions in the span of the first 30 seconds. Once again, this is where the sub and dub diverge in characterization. The dub version of Wall Sina: Goodbye has a more regretful tone (Annie immediately questions how many more people she would have to kill) while the sub is more of a statement, that Annie knows that she’ll have to kill plenty of people to finish her mission. Also, the dub version of Marco’s death lines are quite a bit more impactful in my opinion. 

I wanted to really focus on being able to characterize everyone realistically. I’m going to be real, it’s been a while since I’ve watched the entirety of SnK, so characterizations of Connie and Jean are a bit rough around the edges. The main thing about Annie that I wanted to show is that she’s got conflict that’s buried deep under the facade of getting the mission done. I feel pretty confident about her regretting killing Marco (just look at her face during that scene, plus she has nightmares about it). I’m less sure about any of her other regrets. I also wanted to show that she admires people with principles, that underneath her cold exterior there’s a person who wants to be kind and do right. Really this was inspired by an AruAni oneshot I read, I think the author described it similarly. I think this is shown in canon by her admiration of Eren (suicidal blockhead and all that), her interactions with Marlowe in season 1, and of course the classic “good person” discussion with Armin in Stohess in S1 and the Boat in S4P3. And given that's the foundation, why not extend a bit of the admiration to the rest of the scouting corps? I hope that the self-criticism I wrote wasn’t too much. 

I had intended this to be more AruAni centric, but I realized that the conversation really didn’t line up with that goal, and I didn’t want to force a romantic moment where it didn’t fit. So now we have something that can be read as platonic or romantic (I see it as romantic lol). 

I’m thinking of following this up with an Armin PoV chapter of him apologizing to Annie about trapping her, maybe a couple days after the Rumbling. This would more heavily lean into the pairing since it’ll just be the two of them. I’m a bit hesitant to tackle this given it’ll require some truly creative output, and I have no idea whether I can write reconciliation well, but I want them to be happy and this currently ends on quite a bitter tone.  

Anyway, thanks for reading, and I’d love any and all feedback you have. 

[ofcourtfables]

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒏𝒐 𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍. 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒏𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏. welcome LUNA, you have been accepted into ofcourtfables. please have your account in within the next 24 hours or you risk your roles and face claims. also take a moment to look over our checklist.

‘ timothée chalamet, cis man, he/him, 28 / 31 , cauldron-made fae ’ ― cauldron save you. it seems VIEGO LEONHART has been teleported to the dusk court, the SPY / SEER from THE DAY COURT is said to be RESOURCEFUL and is said to describe themselves with A PRESENCE FILLED WITH A HARMONIOUS BLEND OF RESILIENCE AND A TOUCH OF WILD GRACE, WHISPERS OF THE FOREST THAT FOLLOW YOU EVERYWHERE, SEEN EMBODIED IN THE RUSTLES OF THE LEAVES AND THE SOFT CRUNCH OF SNOW BENEATH YOUR BOOTS, NIGHTMARES PLAGUING YOU OF THE CROWN YOU WORE SO HEAVILY ON YOUR HEAD and with all of this in mind their RESERVED nature always seems to get them into trouble. may the mother hold them as they navigate this unthinkable time. 

[turpalauri]

Glamtober 2024, Day 30: Monochrome

Oh my, the ankles are visible in one of the pics. How scandalous :O

Glam details ☆

Head: Faerie Tale Princess's Tiara (Dye 1: Jet Black, Dye 2: Goobbue Grey) Body: Augmented Radiant's Mail of Casting (Dye 1: Jet Black) Hands: Leonhart Gloves Legs: Asuran Hakama of Casting (Dye 1: Jet Black) Feet: YoRHa Type-51 Boots of Casting Ears: Facet Earrings of Fending

[lichtundschattens]

‘ paul mescal, cis man, he/him, 28 / 31 , cauldron-made fae ’ ― cauldron save you. it seems VIEGO LEONHART has been teleported to the dusk court, the SPY / SEER from THE DAY COURT is said to be RESOURCEFUL and is said to describe themselves with A PRESENCE FILLED WITH A HARMONIOUS BLEND OF RESILIENCE AND A TOUCH OF WILD GRACE, WHISPERS OF THE FOREST THAT FOLLOW YOU EVERYWHERE, SEEN EMBODIED IN THE RUSTLES OF THE LEAVES AND THE SOFT CRUNCH OF SNOW BENEATH YOUR BOOTS, NIGHTMARES PLAGUING YOU OF THE CROWN YOU WORE SO HEAVILY ON YOUR HEAD and with all of this in mind their RESERVED nature always seems to get them into trouble. may the mother hold them as they navigate this unthinkable time.

THE BASICS;

full name: viego leonhart

aliases: icarion calix valerius (birth name), prince icarion, the king who never was

age: 28 / 31

occupation: spy / seer

alliances: day court

species: cauldron-made fae

personality (+): resourceful, calculative, observant

personality (-): reserved, aloof, distrustful

inspirations: princess zelda (legend of zelda), katniss everdeen (the hunger games), eren yeager (attack on titan)

THE STORY SO FAR; tw: death, suicidal thoughts

Born as the eldest of three, and the only son among your two sisters, you came into this world in the snowy mountains of the North, where the air is crisp and the winters long. From an early age, your family never let you forget your responsibilities. It was made clear: you were to marry a princess from another noble house to forge an alliance that would strengthen your kingdom's future. One day, you would inherit your father’s crown and rule over your beloved homeland. A crown had been placed upon your head since birth, but it weighed heavily from the start.

As the firstborn, you carried the burden of expectation. You were to be a role model for your sisters, a reflection of your family’s honor and pride. The pressure was relentless, and though you often grumbled under your breath about it, you knew you were fortunate. Life in the palace was good. You wanted for nothing, your days filled with lessons and leisure. You were taught by the finest tutors, mastering academics and learning to play piano with ease by the time you turned nine. For a while, you believed this life might not be so bad, despite the looming responsibilities that came with the throne.

Days after your fourteenth birthday, your world was shattered. Chaos descended upon your home in a flurry of fire and fear. You remember the panic, the way your guard hauled you from your chambers, pulling you through smoke-choked corridors as flames engulfed your palace. The scent of burning wood and the faint, desperate cries of your people filled your lungs as you were dragged farther from everything you knew until at some point, you heard nothing but silence.

The throne you had been destined for was lost. Your life, as you understood it, was ripped away in one terrible night. For some time, you were lost, not knowing what to do or where to turn. It was just you and your loyal guard, hiding away in the dense forests far from the ruins of your past. There, in the wilds, he taught you the skills you never imagined you would need: how to survive on what little you had, how to craft tools and build shelter, how to defend yourself not just from animals, but from people, too. You learned through harsh conditions, and the life of plenty you had known felt like a distant dream. This was your new reality.

Where once you had been optimistic and good-natured, now you were hardened by loss and the struggle to survive. Your spirit, once bright, became a shell, reserved and aloof, as cold as the mountains from which you hailed. The world had shown you its cruelty, and life had proved even crueler. Loneliness gnawed at you daily, misery becoming a constant companion. Some days, you wished for an end to it all, for the endless trials to cease. Your guard urged caution, made you hide your face when you ventured into town. The bounty on your head was real, and any slip could mean capture or worse. You were no longer Prince Icarion of House Valerius but simply Viego Leonhart, a nameless hunter trying to survive.

Your guard remained steadfast. He vowed to protect you, and he did so with unwavering loyalty. While you hunted and sold hides to keep you both afloat, he took on odd jobs, earning a reputation as a skilled mercenary. You couldn’t fault him for it—it put food on the table and kept you alive. Together, you made do, scraping by in a life neither of you had chosen.

Life feels a little less bitter when you meet her. It happens by accident—your arrow grazes past her while you’re hunting in the woods, leading to your first meeting. From there, a friendship blossoms. For you, it doesn’t feel like much of a choice. She always seems to be in your hunting grounds, her presence a welcomed distraction in your otherwise lonely world.

You keep your meetings with her a secret from your guard, fearing what he might do if he found out. She’s your only friend, and you’re afraid of losing her. As time passes, that friendship grows into something more, something you’ve never felt before. For the first time in what seems like forever, your heart feels light. You find yourself looking forward to every chance encounter, every whispered conversation under the canopy of trees.

But then, tragedy strikes. Your guard catches you together. He reacts with steadfast fury, his bow drawn and aimed at her. Panic grips you as you try to calm him down, to explain, but he doesn’t listen, fearing she might reveal your true identity to others. He lets the arrow fly. Instinctively, you throw yourself in front of her, the arrow piercing through your chest.

Darkness consumes you. You remember nothing but the way your body feels cold, life slipping away. When you wake, the world is different. Your guard is gone, and so is she. You are no longer in the world you knew.

Reborn as a Fae in a strange new land, fear and wariness are your constant companions. Yet, in some inexplicable way, it feels like the first chapter of your life has prepared you for this. This new reality may be foreign and daunting, but you have faced the unknown before, and you will do it all over again.

TL;DR: crown prince who never gets to ascend the throne. lives in the wilderness and goes through an identity change with his guard, fearing there may be a bounty on his head. sad boi bc his family + life gets ripped away from him after another kingdom invades his. eventually meets a fae (without his knowledge) whom he falls in love with. guard freaks out after he finds them together and shoots at her. sad boi sacrifices himself for her life, eventually wakes up to find he's been made a fae via the cauldron in a strange new world, never to see either of them again.......... yet

CONNECTIONS;

the princess he was meant to marry: MAYBE?? they were also made a fae and fate reunites them again?? they met many times as humans (pretty much watched each other grow up) and would typically write to each other. viego never saw her in a romantic way (though he tried) but did hold some affection for her, more in a protective way than anything. anyway she might just be the only one who recognizes him and calls him by his birth name, which might bring him comfort or maybe even a little sadness at being reminded of it. dynamic can def be plotted!!

the fae he was in love with: as mentioned, they met by chance and continued meeting due to her always being around. he feels confusion on why she left him alone and this leaves him puzzled on if he still feels any kind of love for her or not. though one thing he does know is he is grateful she saved his life. will be pretty on the angsty side since he feels more confusion than anything, but can go anywhere!!