#trs nyx

[king-nyx]

Sometimes, you have to make a character thirty times more unhinged and fucked up than canon

[thetempleofnyx]

@8kh

TOKREV S2 LET'SSS GOOO

[fieldofdaisiies]

azriel x eris | 3,6k words | warnings: none | masterlist

The past few days have flown by faster than expected, leaving Azriel feeling on edge, as if he's sitting on needles – or more accurately , standing on them.

It's only been a week since he last saw Eris, and his family still has no idea about their clandestine meeting. And they will never find out about it. There's a lingering fear that Eris might say something to reveal their secret meeting in the Autumn Court, and everything will blow up and his family will find out.

Eris on the other hand can also never find out Azriel didn't go there under Rhysand's order but entirely of his own volition. What would it look like? And what explanation would Azriel have for it?

Now, he is standing in the throne room of the Hewn City alongside his brothers, anticipating Eris' arrival. Though he wished to remain in the Court of Dreams, he had to come here. 

It almost felt like something was pulling him to come here. When he stood in front of the large mirror in the corner of his bedroom, checking his appearance once more before leaving, there was this tug on his ribcage, urging him to move, to come here. It had been a prickling sensation within him, almost like something tickled his soul. 

However, the discussion with Rhys about whether Elain would accompany them or not dampened that sensation.

“Shouldn’t Elain stay with Nyx?”

Rhys turned to him, frowning. “Elain wants to join us, Madja stays with Nyx.” End of discussion. “I will fly with Elain, you will carry my mate.”

Was Rhys truly still worried he would make a move on Elain? 

Bastard, Azriel thought.

Azriel’s stands tall, shoulders squared and suddenly the tug is back, akin to his heart that all of a sudden beats a little faster within his chest. He can’t make out the source of this reaction, but he guesses it might have to do with Eris' imminent arrival. 

Nervousness is a feeling Azriel is not really used to, or at least hasn’t felt in the past years. Now he does feel it and it adds to his confusion about the whole situation with the prince of the Autumn Court. 

Trying to calm his senses, Azriel looses a long breath. His eyes trail over the polished ebony walls. He is not paying attention to the conversation Keir and Rhysand are having, a haze forming in his mind which makes forming coherent thoughts kind of difficult. 

Through his lashes he looks at the onyx ceiling, the beasts that are carved into it always somehow reminding him of the beast his father is. The beast his stepmother is. The beast that Beron is. 

It’s similar to the beasts on thrones atop the dais are fashioned out of, the thrones that Rhys and Feyre occupy. 

Azriel lowers his gaze and rolls back his shoulder, feeling a little ache in his neck from yet another sleepless night. When he looks to his side, hoping to ease some of the tension in his neck and shoulders, he realises that he is not the only person that feels nervous, or uncomfortable.

Elain’s discomfort is tangible even in the air, her brows are furrowed, her slim shoulders slightly slouched. He wonders if it has to do with being here and the eerie, gloomy atmosphere of the Hewn City that seems to dim her sunshine. Or has it to do with…Lucien being away? 

The Vanserra male hasn’t been here for a while, Azriel thinks. Last time he saw them talking for probably the first time, but this was weeks ago. Since then…he hasn’t come back. Azriel has no idea if he will return. Maybe this year he won’t come here for Solstice. 

Azriel lowers his chin, inhaling deeply, the same moment the large, black doors open, creaking as they slowly reveal the male behind them. 

For Azriel it feels like time stands still. He can’t breath when his eyes land on Eris strolling in through the large ebony doors, his feet within his luxurious boots casually gliding over polished floor. The Autumn Court heir holds his chin high, everything in his demeanour arrogant, proud, cunning. The perfect portrayal of the Autumn Court prince. 

Eris truly is a prince in his own right, he doesn’t need Beron for anything – not for power, not for strength, not for knowledge, not for glory. However, another thought sparks in Azriel’s mind; Eris is not only prince, he is the future High Lord of Autumn. There is nothing but power and strength within his stroll, within his appearance. He walks gracefully, elegantly, and Azriel can’t look away. 

His Adam’s apple bobs when awareness dawns on him. Eris is wearing a cobalt jacket, not the same as last year, no, a different one. An embroidery of diamonds of the same colour now adorns either breast of the jacket.

But Azriel can only focus on one thing — Eris is truly wearing a cobalt jacket, one of the same colour as Azriel’s siphons. 

The Autumn Court air is breathtaking. Azriel feels his chest warm, a little kernel of an indescribable emotion now exploding and letting heat seep into every cell of his body. Azriel doesn’t like the feeling but at the same time he does. But he can’t feel this way, not for Eris.

Not for a male who is his declared nemesis and he will soon wed a new Lady of the Autumn Court. There is no place for Azriel. He will never be the person on Eris‘ side. Can never be. He will never be the most important person in Eris’ life. And he will never be worthy of the title as consort of the High Lord of the Autumn Court. 

So, Azriel can never allow these feelings to take root in his chest. He needs to get rid of them, free himself from his desire, from his covert desire, for the Autumn Court prince.

Eris is most definitely doing much better at ignoring whatever he feels for Azriel. It is as if the anger and pain from their meeting a week ago still sits deep because Eris doesn’t even deign Azriel a look. He formally greets Rhysand and Feyre, and then bows at Cass, Nesta and Elain, and of course Keir. They exchange a few words but none of necessity and Eris only seems half-focused.

“We shall discuss things at a later point,” Rhys says, only for Eris and his inner circle to hear, out of the earshot of Keir.

Eris tips his chin in silent agreement, hands casually folded behind his back as he stands strong and tall, a look of arrogance on his face. 

However, his eyes betray him – they are swirling pits of worry, regret, or pain, endless but also empty. Yet, his gaze searches, moving through the crowds of people gathered in the throne room. He looks around, trying not to make it too obvious that he is looking for something. For someone.

And is Elain who can read him, can read his expression and can see the concern within it.  She finally says, her voice steady, but a touch sad, “He isn’t here. Lu—your brother, he isn’t here.”

Eris blinks, once, twice and then he folds his arm in front of his body and bows. “Lady Elain, it is my pleasure to finally properly meet you. I should have introduced myself more properly before. Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn Court.”

Her body remains as stiff as a poker, gaze remained fixed on the Autumn Court heir. Her chest heaves visibly and then with a small smile on her lips, she bows her head. “It is my pleasure, Lord Eris.”

Their eyes meet and now also a soft, and kind smile blooms on Eris‘ face – something hardly anyone has ever seen on him. Slowly, he extends a hand, “Would you like to dance with me, my lady.”

Azriel is furious, nearly bursting out of his own skin; that is not how it was planned. Not at all. Eris was supposed to dance with Nesta and most definitely not Elain. 

Azriel wants to step in, end this before it starts, but he remains where he is, shoulder leaning against a black marble pillar that grounds him. His eyes are trained on Eris and in the prince’s expression, he spots a kind of polite patience he has never seen there before. But there is also interest, and a hint of intrigue, etched upon his handsome face.

Eris wants to get to know his brother’s mate, Azriel gathers, that is the reason why he wants to dance with her.  He doesn’t do it because of her beauty, nor because he is interested in her (at least no in the way Azriel thought at first). Eris is interested in her, but for a wholly different reason than Azriel thought.  

And yet, he can’t shake the feeling of utter envy. But he isn’t jealous of Eris now about to dance with Elain, rather of Elain dancing—

That is bullshit. His fingers curl towards his palms, knuckles turning white, marred skin stretching until it hurts.

“I think…” Elain’s voice is hushed as she speaks and takes a delicate step forward. It feels like the whole throne room holds its breath – will she decline, like she has declined all of Lucien‘s advances, or will she do it for the sake of the alliance between Night and Day?  

Or because she wants to meet her mate‘s family, despite not having accepted the bond with Lucien yet.

“I would like to dance with you, Lord Eris.” Her small hand easily slides into Eris‘ extended one and he curtsies, before guiding her onto the dance floor.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Carefully, the Autumn Court heir leads Elain into the middle of the dancefloor and it feels like the whole room holds its breath; Azriel definitely does. 

“May I?” Eris asks in a polite voice, his hand hovering near Elain’s waist. 

“You may.” She smiles up at him, tipping back her chin. Eris’ gaze meets hers and he has to admit that his brother’s mate is quite a delicate female, soft and lovely, her eyes pure and kind. She is what Lucien deserves, his little brother’s counterpart. 

Eris gently rests his warm palm on her waist, his other hand taking hers into his. He always makes sure he treats her gently, not wanting to overstep a line. He can sense her nervousness, it has a very strong scent, and he doesn’t want to make her even more uncomfortable. 

She has not fully adapted to the fae life and that is visible very easily, but she is on a good way, Eris thinks.

“Were you surprised when I asked you to dance?” Eris looks down at her, Elain is quite short in front of him. His body is towering over hers, but he can feel that he isn’t the reason for her nervousness, rather the situation of them dancing in front of so many people, of the attention being on them. On her. 

“No.” Elain tilts her chin upward, her fawn eyes meeting his amber ones. “You probably have questions. Questions I don’t think I have an answer to.”

Eris seems surprised over this answer. Is he so easy to read or is she just…what is her hidden power?

“What makes you think I have questions?”

A smile graces her lips and she nearly steps onto Eris toes, but he guides her, leads her and avoids it. “You have a curious look on your face, and if you didn’t have questions you could have also asked my sisters to dance.”

“Your sister is mated now,” Eris answers, as they glide over the floor, music and chatter surrounding them. The music of the small orchestra pulses through the air, guiding their every step as they twirl and move over the polished ground.

“So am I.” Her voice betrays her, but Eris has already known anyway.

“You haven’t accepted the bond yet.” Not a question. And observation. Eris would be able to scent the bond, scent his brother. It is completely obvious they haven’t accepted the bond yet.

“No.” Elain averts her gaze as if she is no longer able to look him in the eyes.

“Lucien is a good male.”

“I know,” Elain breathes. “But he is fae and way too good for me. I will never be worthy of him.”

That answer doesn’t surprise Eris, it rather shocks him. How could she ever say something like that. “Lady El—”

“Can we please focus on dancing, Lord Eris.” Her fingertips dig into his shoulder, and there is enough pain in her voice that Eris decides to stay calm. He won’t push her. He has no right to do so. No one has. 

And going into detail about it all would be too much for this dance that will end soon anyway – Lucien and Elain should do it at their pace, and Eris has no doubt that one day they will find their way to each other. 

The dance continues in silence. Elain‘s feet move rather effortlessly across the floor, every step, turn, and twirl elegant, not as skilled as Nesta, but still graceful thanks to Eris leading them. 

When Eris twirls her, her dress flares around her like a dark blue halo. She is a whirlwind of energy, her feet barely touching the floor, her body bending and moving with the music, hands tightly holding onto Eris, who spins her, lifts her and smiles when his eyes meet hers.

“I know we finished this conversation, but I need you to know something.” Eris spins her and then catches her in her arms again. “Don’t allow these thoughts to take root within your mind. You are worthy of my brother, and whoever makes you feel like you don’t, is wrong.”

His gaze lifts, and his eyes, like glowing embers, meet those of hazel, shining like moonlight falling upon a forest. Azriel is looking directly at him, has been watching them –him– the whole time and a smug look appears on the Autumn Court heir‘s face.

He twirls the Elain again, spinning her so often that her feet almost leave the ground, yet her small frame is always safe in his strong hold. She is Lucien’s mate and hence also his to protect, his to keep safe. 

“One more thing.” The music is calming, the piece almost coming to an end. Elain gives him a curious look, waiting for him to continue.

“You are my brother‘s mate – no matter if you’ve accepted the bond or not. It makes you my family as well. That is why I wanted to dance with you. I wanted to get to know you, Elain.”

Eris dips his chin. “And no matter what will happen between you and Lucien, you will always have my protection.” 

If he weren’t leading them, Elain would have probably stopped moving. Her lips part slightly and her eyes widen. “Thank you.”

The music ends, Eris wants to step back but Elain squeezes his hand, keeping him close. “If it makes me your family, you are also my family.” A long pause follows.

The words seem difficult to find, voicing them even harder, but Elain inhales deeply and finally continues. “Which means if you ever need a place to…stay, to escape to, you will find shelter with me.”

He hasn’t expected that. Out of everything she could have said, he has not expected that and it warms an odd part of his chest that he has thought to be long dead, rotten and wrenched. Tears burn behind his eyes and he starts to blink rapidly. Eris squeezes her hand in return, not able to answer, too baffled by her kind offering. And his throat is too dry. 

Elain steps away from him. “It was my pleasure meeting you, Lord Eris.” A small smile is on her lips. Then she turns and walks back toward her sister.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Eris halts right next to Azriel. So close their shoulders brush, and slowly Eris‘ scent seeps into Azriel’s nostrils until it is the only thing the shadowsinger can focus on. 

The Autumn Court prince smells like a whisper of smoke, accompanied by the scent of freshly cut wood with musky hues and a subtle hint of earth after rain.

Eris doesn’t quite know why he walked to Azriel, and not back to Keir or the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. But it was almost like something pulled him into this direction, a little tug on his body and he followed, letting himself be guided by it.

Eris' eyes follow Elain as she weaves her way through the crowds of people to her sister and the Illyrian brute who have also just returned from their dance.

“She is beautiful," Eris says, voice nothing more than a whisper of admiration. “A ray of sunshine even within this place of utter darkness.”

He inhales deeply, Azriel’s scent now all he can smell. 

"But blue isn’t her colour.”

Azriel has to admit that as well — neither blue nor black are her colours even though he had hoped so not more than a year ago. 

"Green is,” Eris continues. “Just like it is Lucien‘s colour." A faint smile graces his handsome face.

Azriel swallows and clears his throat. He doesn’t want to talk about Lucien, nor Elain. “We are not here to talk about Lucien again.”

"No. No, we are not.” Eris rubs his hand over his jaw. “I’m here to apologise.” Eris keeps his voice low so only Azriel can hear him. “For what I said about your father. I had no intention to hurt you, nor to get involved in your personal affairs.”

Eris’s gaze stays trained on the bustling crowd of dancing people, his broad chest heaving with deep inhales while he drinks in Azriel’s scent. 

Night-chilled mist and cedar – beguiling.

Yet, Eris doesn’t let it show what the shadowsinger’s scent does to him, how taut his skin grows solely from smelling Azriel.

“Your jaw?” Azriel gives Eris a sidelong look. There is still a faint hint of a bruise on the side of his face, but it has faded mostly. Thank the Cauldron.

“Almost healed.” Eris inhales deeply, closes his eyes and turns to Azriel who slowly parts his lips, his brows creased.

“I‘m still sorry for it.”

“I deserved it.” There is a cold in Eris’ voice, that makes Azriel shudder and his stomach coils. He knows that this is what Eris has probably always been telling himself when Beron punishes him. Tortures him.

It makes Azriel want to reach out, take his hand into his own and just hold him. But that wouldn’t work for several reasons – they are in public first and foremost all. And they are enemies, and lastly there is the issue of his hands. Wouldn’t the Autumn Court heir with his polished and immaculate appearance feel disgusted about him? Would he not be grossed out from Azriel touching him?

“No,” Azriel says, his heart heavy with emotion. “No you didn’t. You deserve a lot, but not that.”

A small smirk tugs on Eris’ mouth, but it fades as quickly as it appeared. “Rhysand offered me to stay for the night.”

A subtle gasp escapes Azriel’s lips, and a flicker of shock passes over his face.

Eris will stay here. In the Night Court. In the Moonstone Palace. Like back then. When they…kissed.

The shadowsinger feels how his hands turn clammy, cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. 

He has thought his unexplainable feelings and the confusion would vanish when he just stays away from the heir for long enough. And Eris staying here, being so close to him once again, will most definitely not help in fighting against the turmoil raging within him.

And it is almost like Rhys has read his mind (which is impossible, Azriel’s mental defences are always up) because his brother scraps a talon against the shield in his mind, asking for entrance.

Azriel lets him in.

“You will escort Eris to the Moonstone Palace. Keep an eye on him.”

Azriel whips his head into the direction of the High Lord, Rhys’ hand intertwined with Feyre’s while he’s sitting in a sprawl atop his throne. Before Azriel can protest, the High Lord starts talking again. 

“Ally or not, I don’t feel good about letting him stay there all alone.” Rhysand looks directly into Azriel’s eyes, even across the distance. “I can trust you with fulfilling this job, Az, can’t I?”

“Pulling rank?” A snarl follows Azriel’s question.

A cold chuckle returns from Rhys, his expression smug, arrogant. “If needed, yes.”

Azriel turns away, glaring out at the dancing people. “I’m taking you there.”

Dumbfounded, Eris turns to the male next to him, his auburn brows curled. “You do what?”

“Rhysand offered you to stay here – I‘m taking you there. The Moonstone palace,” Azriel snaps, anger boiling inside of him, mingling with the overwhelming sensation of Eris being so close to him.

Eris only gives him a long look, not saying anything, but Azriel can tell exactly what he is thinking about. Because he is thinking about the same. 

Will this evening end with another kiss? Or more?

tag list for ACOCD @hnyclover @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @queercontrarian @fandomsmultiverse @acourtofbatboydreams @chunkypossum @baileybird71 @beckkthewreck @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival@owllover123 @acotarobsessed @goldenmagnolias @v3lv3tf0x @talibunny30 @allyhill @popjunkie42 @skyesayshi @going-through-shit

general Azris tag list: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop@ofduskanddreams

[cedarspiced]

hiya! i'm cedar! i'm a 23 y/o grey-ace fagdyke creature living in the PNW.

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ΘΔ grackle-cat griffin, sable, cat, deinonychus, coydog, painted dog

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rent lowering gunshots:

kink belongs at pride and always has

masks & vaccines are awesome and slow the spread of disease

black lives matter and always have

free palestine. death to israel & to the USA.

if you say you're trans, you're trans. end of. there's no other requirements.

sex is a spectrum, not a binary. also, intersex people belong in the queer community.

TMA and TME are just terms used to describe a group most affected by a certain type of discrimination (in this case, transmisogyny). no, TME does not automatically mean transmasc. it also includes all cis perisex people and non-transfem intersex folks. (what do TME/TMA mean?)

thought crimes aren't real and having paraphilias doesn't automatically make you an Evil Bad Person

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asexual and aromantic people belong in the queer community. yes, even the cishet ones.

vote-scolding people who have already made up their mind about an election is only going to make everyone more upset at each other, and calling people bots or russian psy-ops for having a different political opinion is uh. Not Cool. to put it politely (a.k.a. that behavior is rooted in primarily USamerican racism and xenophobia.) sometimes people just have different takes based on different lived experiences!

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[quietsun5268]

Who's the Most Likely, Least Likely, or Maybe Mothers for Rhajat based on Classes, looks, supports, and/or mannerisms?

Most Child units inherit the hair color from their Mothers (with the exception of Male Kana, who inherited his father's hair color, and Shigure). But some parents are more fitting for some child units then others based on Classes, looks, supports, mannerisms, etc. I'm not looking for who would make the kid stronger. Just a parent who would make sense for the Child Units.

Recap: Asugi (I made some edits and added new facts if your interested)

Percy

Ignatius

For this one it's about our Corrin-obsessed, curse-loving stalker who greatly resembles Tharja (who might be her previous life).

Those that see (?) It means that I'm not sure if it counts as evidence or not.

Here's what I've gathered so far?

1.) In Awakening, Tharja's base class sets are Dark Mage, Knight, and Archer. Rhajat's standard class is Diviner, she inherited the Oni Savage class option from Hayato. If you want to make a call-back to Tharja's Awakening base class set's have Nyx be her mother as Rhajat inherit's her Dark Mage class option. Effie has a Knight class option Rhajat can inherit but if you still want her to have a Dark Mage class, regardless of the mother, have Rhajat become buddies with Ophelia in order to get the option.

2.) Some of her supports shows she enjoys teasing people for her amusement, sometimes in rather mean ways. When Kiragi offers to help get ingredients for her in their support, she keeps sending the naive boy to dangerous places and expecting him to fail just for her own amusement… but keeps getting surprised when he keeps coming back.

Orochi trolls and teases Jakob quite a bit in their supports, laughs at Subaki's disgust when she accidentally dumps her alchemy ingredients on him and finds Oboro's notorious "demon face" to actually be funny - especially when hearing Oboro can't control it. She also spends her Supports with Takumi teasing him about his childhood

When Azura does open up, she proves to have quite the mischievous side, such as scaring Sakura with ghost stories.

Corrin has her moments of being mischievous. This is a little more prominent with Female Corrin, as she enjoys making Asugi (if he's not her son) flustered (she finds his reactions cute) and tells Ignatius ghost stories to purposefully scare him.

3.) Rhajat is an anagram of Tharja, the basis for her character. "Rajat" is a Hindi word that means "silver". In a similar vein, Syalla is a modified phonetic anagram of Tharja's Japanese name Sallya. Her Japanese name, Sallya, may be derived from Sally, a shortening of the Hebrew name Sarah, meaning "princess". Tharja may be a variation of Tarja, a Finnish spelling of Daria, which ultimately derives from the masculine name Dārayavahush, meaning "posessing goodness" in Persian. Her name may also come from the Hindi name Tharaja, meaning "star with full glow".

The "silver" part can come the silver hair Rhajat can inherit from Default Female Corrin. Or the white hair from Rinkah. Or the grayish-blond hair from Effie.

The "princess" part could be from being born from Sakura, Hinoka, Azura, or Corrin. Maybe Rinkah since she's the daughter of the Flame Tribe Chieftain or Felicia since she's the daughter of the Ice Tribe Chieftain. Although it could be from that in the future Hayato will be the future Wind Tribe Chieftain.

If you want to make a connection based on name meaning, Nyx is named after the primordial Greek goddess of the night which could connect to "star with full glow".

4.) Rhajat's support with her mother involves Rhajat is trying to cast a protective spell over a bunch of villagers to protect them from an upcoming illness. However, she casted it too late for it to be effective and the village people mistakenly thought she had cursed them instead. (And she didn't exactly defend herself, either.) Rhajat's mother is caught in this conflict and, while she does her best to take care of the ill, she also tries to reassure Rhajat about not blaming her for anything. In the end, Rhajat manages to raise a plant that will make a good cure (which is why she didn't defend herself, it'd take time away from her research), so her mother is very proud of her.

Should her mother be Rinkah, according to their A support, she inherits her mother's headstrong nature.

Her dedication to finding a cure reminds me of several mothers like how Hinoka is dedicated to fighting, her training as a Sky Knight, and becoming stronger for the sake of her homeland. And having the drive to save others.

How Kagero is extremely dedicated to her job, proof of that his her supports with Corrin.

How Hana is hardworking to the point that she sometimes misses several meals at a time.

(?) In Oboro's supports with Corrin she's shown working herself ragged on a moonless night, although it's because so she won't have nightmares involving her parents death.

(?) Corrin is dedicated to her family

(?) While Felicia is terrible working as a maid, she does try and is hard working about it.

(?) Mozu starts of as weak villager but she can become a powerful unit later on. That's being dedicated. There's also the fact Mozu was a farm girl and that Rhajat planted the herb that can cure the village of illness. While she did use a little bit of light magic encourage the herb's growth, Rhajat could've gotten the planting skill set from Mozu.

The knowledge of plants part could come from Hayato, since he is fairly skilled as an apothecary, having numerous rare herbs and can also turn them into potions.

Rhajat wanting to heal the villager reminds me of Sakura who is a healer.

Orochi is not exactly a healer, but is pretty good at using medicinal herbs to make potions and salves.

(?) If Nyx is her mother, Rhajat might be inspired to find the cure for the villagers from Nyx's desire to be cured from her curse.

(?) Effie will time and time again endanger herself to protect those around her, wanting to be everyone's "shield." Would Rhajat had been in danger when the villagers thought she cursed them?

5.) She has her own cooking flair, "Dedicated," which produces food that matches the "Exquisite" flair in quality… but only enough for one person, Corrin.

Let's go over the worst cooks first: Hinoka's Flair tier is Reckless, Rinkah's Flair tier is Burnt, Setsuna tier is Disgusting and her support with Hinoka reveals it takes several days for them to do an omelet recipe with Setsuna nearly burning the kitchen, and Felicia's Flair tier is Noxious and her clumsiness messes up the cooking.

The best cooks are Azura, and Mozu. In Mozu's case her Flair tier is Delicious and a lot of her supports involve her collecting ingredients or cooking. In Azura's case her Flair tier is Mouthwatering.

Female Corrin can't cook but she is a fairly skilled baker in her support conversations with Dwyer.

As for the rest is ambiguous, Effie's Flair tier is Daring, Sakura's Flair tier is Hoshidan, Hana's Flair tier is Salty, Nyx and Orochi's Flair tier is Sophisticated, Oboro's Flair tier is Sweet, and Kagero's Flair tier is Elegant (although people might hesitant to eat it because her strange sense of foreboding art effects what her food looks like).

Hayato's Flair tier is Simple

6.) Rhajat is Brutally Honest.

In Kagero's supports with Takumi, after Takumi complains about her suggestion that he meditate under the waterfall, she mentions that Ryoma didn't question or complain about her suggestion. She later apologizes, but Takumi doesn't hold it against her, saying he appreciates her honesty.

Setsuna is described as a horribly tactless person.

Hana doesn't mince words. She even hurts the normally-unflappable Keaton's feelings in their B support, and has to spend a great deal of time apologizing to him.

Rinkah doesn't beat around the bush with her opinions and prefers it when people are straightforward with her in turn - even if what they say aggravates her at times.

(?) While we haven't seen what Nyx was like before she got curse, she was described as very arrogant about her skill with magic. Current Nyx can be rude and anti-social.

Azura doesn't let something like societal niceness stop her from telling someone what she thinks of them.

Despite her outwardly meek appearance, Mozu actually possesses a hidden sharp tongue and is not afraid to speak her mind, even to those of a higher status than her. This is especially shown in her supports with Takumi, in which Mozu is unusually passive-aggressive when he accidentally tramples over her garden. When Takumi offers to make up for it, Mozu outright tells him he'd be a lousy farmer.

7.) Regardless of whether or not she gets a Dark Mage class, Rhajat still dabbles in dark magic. Which is something she might inherit from Nyx along with her (former) love of cursing other people.

8.) Rhajat is a loner, preferring to stay away from others, especially those who she has no interest in.

The preference for solitude could come from Rinkah and Nyx.

What Rhajat could inherit from her possible mother in Hoshidan Festival of Bonds

If her mother is Sakura, the Hoshidan Festival of Bonds DLC reveals that she has both of her parents' Sweet Tooth. (And that no one shall get between her and her sweets.)

If she's mothered by Oboro, in the Hoshidan Festival of Bonds she says that she has both her mother's "Demon Face" and sewing skills.

Hoshidan Festival of Bonds states that a Rhajat mothered by Azura inherits her mother's talent and love of singing.

Rhajat inherits Setsuna's creepy humming.

Rhajat gets a little scatterbrained from Felicia

For the looks department I can't help there since I normally can't tell which child unit looks like who more. Anyway I'd like to hear your thoughts on who is the Most Likely, Least Likely, or Maybe Mothers for Rhajat based on Classes, looks, supports, and/or mannerisms. If there's any small facts I missed, you can comment.

(Vote if you want, you're allowed to pick more then one option) Who's the Most Likely Mothers for Rhajat based on Classes, looks, supports, and/or mannerisms?: https://strawpoll.com/wby5Q6w8dyA

Who's the Least Likely Mothers for Rhajat based on Classes, looks, supports, and/or mannerisms?: https://strawpoll.com/eJnvVDx9Wnv

Reddit (you can click here if you want to see what other people think in the comments but know that the polls aren't in Reddit)

[ladyfluffbutt]

Made a KNY/Demon Slayer OC!

And hey! She's not a demon or a slayer!

Alora Vega DeCeleste

Name Meaning: Dreaming Star of the Heavens

Gender: Female (she/her)

Age: Roughly Over 500 Years (resembles mid 20's)

Height: 5'6" (168cm)

Species: Witch/Forest Spirit

Nicknames: Spirit Witch, Light Witch, Dream Witch, Great Forest Witch, Daughter of Aeon, Child of the Forest of Ages, Starlight, Starshine

Powers: shapeshifting, heightened speed and strength, gelador spellcasting  (singing spells), nitchirin manipulation, emotion sensing, crystal  casting, lightfoot (footsteps don't make noise)

Personality: motherly,shy, warm, protective, loyal, creative, dependable,  empathetic, gentle, humble, anxious, careful, distrusting, introverted  unless around those she's close to

Skills

Medicine/Herbs/Poisons 

common knowledge passed down through the witch bloodlines.

Heliokinetic

Absorbs  and stores energy from sunlight much like nitchirin swords. Relies on  these energy stores for magical power and for protection at night. Can  even absorb sun's reflective energy from full moon but it's not nearly  as much as she gets from normal sunlight.

Sword fighting

Actually  skilled with swordfighting but has an unconventional method of fighting  with one. Uses a nitchirin shortsword that was  specifically forged to  handle her energy, though it does have it's limits.

She  doesn't fight like this at night much because it burns through her  energy stores even quicker than her typical magic casting.

Healing

Can use her energy stores to heal/mend her own wounds and the wounds of others.

Singing

Used for casting spells but also sings to comfort and entertain herself. Will sometimes sing for those shes close to.

Hand-to-Hand

Preferred fighting method along with magic casting

Dream Scape

Ability passed down from mother. Eases nightmares and can even share memories among willing participants

Relationships

Arcus Deiry Rosamel (Goddess of Rainbow Dreams and Honey): Mother 600+yrs *Deceased*

Atsuo Roan Soleil (Kind Little Sun): Alora's twin brother 10yrs *Deceased*

Mina DeEalwode (Little Star of the Old Forest): Sister 9yrs *Deceased*

Arden Daemon DeAmaya (Great Forest Guardian/Spirit of the Heavenly Valley): Sister 8yrs *Deceased*

Eri Akash Atiena (My Guardian of the Sky and Night): Sister, Arden's twin 7yrs *Deceased*

Hesper Nyx (Evening Star of Twilight): Brother 6yrs *Deceased*

Aria DeTheresa Miyako (Song of Summer Nights): Sister 5yrs *Deceased*

Vevila DelKage (Harmony of the Shadow): Sister 4yrs *Deceased*

Hina No Narumi (Light/Sun of the Roaring Sea): Sister 3yrs *Deceased*

Yuuki Tsukiko Khadga (Brave Moon Sword): Brother 2yrs *Deceased*

Quillon Sirius Kometes (Sword of Burning Comets): Brother 9 months *Deceased*

Akari Estelle DeKimora (Brightest Star of the Golden Meadow): Alora's Daughter 5yrs

Fun Facts

Alora doesn't actually know who her biological father is, which isn't unusual  for witches when it comes to having one human parent

Her  memories of her past and family are rather fuzzy and she can't actually  recall the events of their deaths at all. This is due to Aeon's  influence.

She loves making sweets. She pours a bit of magic into them so whoever eats them will start feeling better

Her instant motherly/sisterly nature towards those she meets may be linked to the trauma with her family and childhood

She gets extremely nervous around large groups of people and crowds, especially if they have weapons

Weary of fire. Candles and lanterns are fine but torches make her nervous and bonfires are an absolute NO

Alora  and Atsuo were the ones who took care of their younger siblings. Their  mother was practically useless so it was up to her oldest kids to care  for their siblings. Alora has a lot of resentment towards her for this  when any try to bring up her mother

Alora  loves doing hair and braids. She does Akari's often and it's a big way  for them to bond. They also decorate each others' hair and braids with  jewelry and trinkets. This is a common witch tradition.

While  Alora is typically shy, quiet, and gentle natured, she will absolutely  NOT take any disrespect towards anyone she cares for

She  can be absolutley terrifying when angry. She will loom and stare down  any who anger her. Even the demons she befriends know to steer clear  when shes in a bad mood

Will blow air like an equine and snarl like the spirits she's grown up with

Does  kind things on a whim and doesn't really think about any sort of reward  or gratitude. In fact she gets quite startled when someone tries to  thank her or repay her kindness.

History

Alora has spent the better part of her life (from what she recalls) living  in the forest  surrounding the Swordsmith Villiage under the care and  protection of her father, the forest spirit known as Aeon. She's  cherished by the old being as she is his only daughter amongst his  dozens of sons.

She's been kind and friendly with the children of the village over the  years, often playing with them and telling stories or keeping watch over  them as they played in the forest. Once they grow up though, she becomes  more distant and rarely seen once they're adults. The swordsmiths  understand though and even built her a shrine where they leave gifts and  trinkets for her.

Alora wasn't seen for a time for unknown reasons, but returned within a year. None of the villagers knew what was  going on until some months later when their kids started taking rather  odd things to her shrine as offerings. Little toys, fabric, blankets,  and other odds and ends.

Things were confirmed when one of the villagers saw her taking a late evening stroll with a little bundle in her arms. Needless to say the villagers held a little celebration in honor of the first child of the kind Spirit Witch. None know who the father is but it doesn't seem to matter to her so it doesn't matter to  them. (hint it is one of the Swordsmiths)

First time parenting was rough for Alora despite the help she had from her brothers and Aeon, which isn't much help since they're four legged  equine spirits and can't physically care for or hold a baby. She  eventually did ask one of the elder swordsmiths for advice and he was  more than happy to take her and little Akari under his care. They spent  much time with the old man and a few other trusted smiths until Akari was was 4 and her powers awakened.

She was able to be more independent and care for herself so  the two disappeared into the forest again. Akari was more bold than her  mother and would come into the village every-so-often to visit the old  man who cared for her and check out the other swordsmiths and kids.

Alora  and Akari disappeared again though this time Akari told the old man  that she'd convinced her mother to go out and explore the country a bit.  They'd be back eventually.

Roughly two years later Alora meets Tanjiro and Nezuko…..

[1hot-mess-express1]

Welcome

Hiii!! I'm Messy (Nyx), She/they, 23, NSFW (MDNI)

Requests/Asks are always open

I'm not super active on here and am still fairly new here (I've been on this hellsite for over a decade but just recently came back) so forgive any formatting errors (would love advice on making my blog more aesthetic)

Anime I'm into RN:

*JJK*AOT*TR*Bleach*MHA*FMAB*Nana*Given*

Authors:

*Osamu Dazai*Bell hooks*Chuck Palahniuk*

Music: (Send me a DM; I'd love to make a Spotify blend!)

*Mitski*Sleep token*KGLW*Zach Bryan*The White Buffalo*

Station Directory

[tarotmander]

Tragedy, Comedy, & SATYR:

The Poetry of Madness

A Play By 

Salamander Engle

Trigger Warnings

Mentions of Suicide, Self-harm, Religious tones, Mania, Deppression, Mental health talk, Blood, and Other sensitive subjects. Not suitable for audience members under the age of 13 years. 

Dedications

This play is dedicated to Prof. Taylor Clemens, Dr. Leslie Werden, My theater family, My siblings, My rabbit Angel, and My caffeine addiction.

This play is for every kid out there who hurt themselves thinking that no one ever understood them.

Pronunciation Guide

Oizys=(Ow-uh-zis)|Nyx=(Nicks)|Hades=(Hay-deez)|Thanatos=(Tha-nuh-tows)|Heracles=(heh-ra-kleez)|Odysseus=(Ow-di-see-uhs)|Achilles=(uh-ki-leez)|Patroclos=(pa-truh-kluhs)|Morpheus=(Mor-fe-uhs)|

Hypnos=(Hip-nows)|Apollo=(Uh-paa-low)|Perseus=(Pur-see-uhs)|

Athena=(A-thee-nuh)|Atalanta=(a-tuh-lan-tuh)|Pasiphaë=(Puh-si-fuh-ee)|Asterion=(As-tear-ee-on)|Furies=(Fury-s)|Tartarus=(Taar-tr-uhs)|Circe=(Surs)|Algea=(Al-yah)|Manticore=(Man-tuh-kore)|Lamia=(Lay-mee-ah)|Prometheus=(Pruh-mee-thee-uhs)|Pandora=(Pan-door-ah)

Scene 1

SATYR: 

They get up from their seat and come to center stage.

"Hello there. You might be wondering what brought us here today. Well, it's a story I've carried within me, one that’s weighed heavily on me for a very long time. So tonight, if you’d like, I’ll tell you that story."

They pause, and take a deep breath, a sullen expression plastered across their face.

“This is the story of someone, who one day, pondered taking their own life.” 

They bow and go back to their seat.

Scene 2

TRAGEDY:

Tragedy gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

What is life?

A waste,

A trife,

Trial and pain,

Suffering and waste,

Humans, a stain,

The earth suffers for our gain,

One less life is a welcome acclaim.

The gods condemned our creation,

From the start we were damned,

Zeus wants us dead,

So take his will into your hands.

End it all now,

With blades, poisons or pills,

Your blood, 

A sacrifice, 

The floor,

The altar on which it’s spilled. 

Cry out in pain for Hades to hear,

Pray that Thanatos is your guide,

Pray that your purse is heavy, 

And that your heart is light.

Death comes for us all,

Pray it comes fast,

This day is a wretched one,

Pray it’s your last. 

Tragedy bows and returns to their seat.

COMEDY:

Comedy gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

What is life?

A gift,

A blessing,

Opportunity and comfort,

Benefits and flourishment.

Humans, an experiment,

The earth cradles our growth,

One less life is a somber sight,

The gods celebrated our creation,

From the start we were protected,

Prometheus wants us alive,

So take his will into your hands.

Thrive,

With art, music or dance,

Your creation, 

A sacrifice, 

The stage,

The altar on which it’s splayed. 

Cry out in triumph for the muses to hear,

Pray that Apollo is your guide,

Pray that your purse is heavy, 

And that your heart is light.

Inspiration comes for us all,

Pray it comes fast,

This day is a joyous one,

Pray it’s not your last.

Comedy bows and returns to their seat.

Standing downstage left as a group only the leader of the chorus speaks.

Calliope: 

“Tragedy, like many, cannot see the good in life. They see a bleak and dead existence. They decide that pain and suffering are the true path of humanity. That we are a burden just by existing. A life of trauma has beaten them down, giving them a disdain for humans as a whole; including themself.”

“Comedy however, only sees the good in life. This much like tragedies perspective can be detrimental. While positivity is a fabulous thing in small doses, too much of it can become toxic. A life of trying to force themself to smile through the pain has forced them to be uncomfortable with any form of negativity.”

They take a seat on the stage watching the play once more.

Scene 3

TRAGEDY:

Tragedy gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

Oizys,

Daughter of Nyx,

Goddess of Tragedy,

Why must you condemn me so?

Why must your slender fingers embrace me?

Your touch is not gentle,

Not like a lovers,

And yet I come crawling back to you,

You are comforting.

Yet with you I feel only sorrow.

You, oh goddess, who hollow out my very soul and leave me with nothing!

I beg of you leave me be!

Take away your dainty kisses and gentle whispers,

Begone your siren calls of suicidal thoughts!

…

Goddess?

Goddess!?

Where have you gone!?

Oh gods!

When you are gone I weep at the thought of your return. 

And still I am comforted by the familiarity of your cruelty. 

I take medication to shoo you away, 

And then when I am left alone all I feel is fear at how numb I am without your persistent calls. 

What is a man without a beast to slay!?

Who is Heracles without his Hydra!?

Odysseus without his Cyclops!?

Perseus without his Gorgons!?

Without you I am no one, oh goddess! 

Return to me, 

And make me whole once more.

Tragedy bows and returns to their seat.

COMEDY:

Comedy gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

Oh muses grant me your blessing,

Audience lend me your ears,

Gods bless us.

For today is a beautiful day.

Negativity is a waste,

Allow us to embrace this feeling,

On days like this I feel as if Athena herself has gifted me her sword;

And I am mighty Atalanta on her way to the hunt!

I am invincible and ready to fight!

Nothing can kill me even if it tries.

Call it illness or arrogance if you wish,

But I feel as if nothing,

No god nor man could touch me!

I could climb Olympus itself with nothing but a pen if I so pleased!

Adrenaline courses through my veins like venom,

Powering me,

Moving me,

Driving me forward,

Faster, 

Harder,

Stronger,

Blindly at breakneck speeds,

Consequences be damned.

I will achieve what the dead couldn’t if it kills me.

Comedy bows and returns to their seat.

Standing downstage left as a group only the leader of the chorus speaks.

Clio:

“Tragedy, Is someone who in this life has found that sinking back into that familiar feeling of self hatred is easier than reaching out for help. Even though they are taking medication they long for the pain that replaces the cold numbness. There is a strange comfort for them in the pain that the struggle of depression brings them.”

“Comedy, however, seems to be in the opposite boat. They speak of being invincible. They are optimistic to the point of insanity. They go on to threaten their own life in subtle ways others call ambition. They reject negativity to an insane level.”

They take a seat on the stage watching the play once more.

Scene 4

TRAGEDY:

Tragedy gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

Not even the gods want me

From a young age they abandoned me,

Like you did,

And sure you were there,

Physically at least.

But much like the gods you were never present.

You just watched.

Watched me grow,

Watched me ache,

Watched me hurt,

Watched me hate,

You looked on as I became this,

This thing.

You were my mother,

My everything.

And yet like Pasiphae watching Asterion,

You just let me become this monster!

I was a child!

I was the consequence of your sins!

And yet I paid the price!

You locked yourself away in your labyrinth and let me roam the streets,

In pain.

Hurting anyone who tried to tend to me.

And now, 

I just want it all to end.

Maybe in one way I can be like you,

And I can abandon myself. 

Tragedy bows and returns to their seat.

COMEDY:

Comedy gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

I know I’m no goddess of beauty,

Or muse of poetry,

But I promise, 

If you just keep paying me attention, I’ll do something impressive.

I swear it. 

I beg of you please just look at me.

I promise I don’t have a gorgons glare,

You won’t turn to stone under my stare,

Just please, just look at me!

By the gods why can’t people just like me!?

What about me is so unlikeable!?

I try so hard to be likable and pleasant!

And yet without fail they end up treating me like one of the furies of Tartarus!

Is it the way I speak?

The way I walk?

Do I screech like a harpy?

Do I lurk like a manticore?

Am I untrustworthy?!

Am I no better than Lamia!?

Perhaps I should take up eating children since I am so foul!

…

I…I apologize.

I think,

I think I should leave.

Comedy bows and returns to their seat.

Standing downstage left as a group only the leader of the chorus speaks.

Erato:

“Tragedy has begun to open up about their past. The abuse that has caused their desperate need for pain. It is up to their friends and family to decide how they want to handle this. If they are loving and understanding, perhaps Tragedy will be able to grow, but if they cannot, then Tragedy will remain a cold, hurt, entity, stuck in their past.”

“Comedy is beginning to show us that staying positive all of the time can take a harsh toll on a person. When you wear a mask all of the time you stop making sense. Every emotion is too muffled for others to sympathize with. And so you explode.”

They take a seat on the stage watching the play once more.

Scene 5

TRAGEDY:

Tragedy gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

Death is a simple fate,

An easy out. 

Many are mocked for admiring it,

For desiring it,

I am one of them. 

For this reason many choose instead to worship torture. 

Their body is their temple,

Their sacrafice, their pain,

Each line etched into their flesh is another prayer.

A cry to their gods for help.

“Algea!”

They sob.

“Bringer of pain,

Bringer of tears,

Hear my prayer and let me weep no more.

With this I beg of you,

Protect me from Oizys,

Let my heart be light!”

But no matter how often they pray,

The gods never listen.

And the human continues to suffer. 

So the cycle continues.

Because humans are desperate.

And like someone desperately trying to get the attention of a potential lover,

They will continue,

And fail,

And hurt,

For the rest of their short,

Insignificant life.

Tragedy bows and returns to their seat.

COMEDY:

Comedy gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

I hold a razor like Ares holds his ax,

With rage,

With anger,

I do not however hold it with dignity.

I am not Athena.

I have no noble reason or bold strategy.

I am simply angry.

At myself,

My mother,

The world,

Like everyone who cuts I do it not for some impressive cause,

I do it because I am a child who has no other way left to express themself.

At least that’s what it feels like.

Everytime I relapse I feel like a child presenting the broken vase to his parents,

Ashamed,

And frightened.

I don’t even do it because I want to die.

No, I'm far too scared to actually try to…

Instead I do it because I think the blood looks pretty,

And because the scars remind me that I’m alive.

The way wrinkles remind a veteran that they made it out of the war.

They remind me that I made it out of each and every one of mine.

Comedy bows and returns to their seat.

Standing downstage left as a group only the leader of the chorus speaks.

Melpomeni:

“Tragedy speaks of worshiping torture. Because torturing yourself and hurting yourself is easier than seeking help from others who could potentially respond poorly. They speak of being mocked for attempting, and the general way people look at those who attempt. And it’s very powerful. Because it’s true. Self harm is not a joke.”

“Comedy speaks of hurting themself and being ashamed, frightened, and unable to express themself. They, like many, believe that self harm is something that should be seen as a personal and shameful experience. This isolates them when they need others the most. If you know of someone who self harms, don't shame them, shame is what isolates them. Be someone understanding, someone who is safe. Before you have to be someone who buries them.”

They take a seat on the stage watching the play once more.

Scene 6

TRAGEDY:

Tragedy gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

Sleep is the greatest gift the gods ever gave

Not the winged shoes,

Or fire,

Nor even life,

No truly it has to be sleep.

Because sleep is a chance to experience,

Even for a moment, 

the life of the gods

In sleep one can do anything one wants.

You can be grand,

You can be beautiful,

You can be loved…

Sleep is magical.

Sleep is like a look into the afterlife,

Death without the commitment,

A time where you can experience all of the spoils of  a life well lived,

But none of the finality of a life at its end.

I wish I could sleep forever.

I know I can’t because then I’d just be dead,

And that takes away from sleeps beauty,

But how lovely would it be to never have to wake up?

To just be forever resting?

In my opinion,

That sounds greater than any afterlife.

Tragedy bows and returns to their seat.

COMEDY:

Comedy gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

Dance with me Morpheus,

Your father abandons me in the night,

So hold me in your arms during the day,

Bless me with sweet dreams,

Even when I cannot sleep.

Rip me away from this plane, 

And whisk me away to olympus.

Allow me to waltz between gilded gates,

As my body is left slumped over at my desk.

Let me run a marathon on my thousand yard stare,

I beg of you,

Don’t force me to remain in this world. 

It’s so much nicer in my mind. 

Morpheus, son of Hypnos,

Allow me to escape into your fabrications forever.

Stitch together a reality I can wrap myself up in,

Made of cotton and silk,

One that I can forever cuddle up in. 

Swaddle me in my delusions,

Oh fabricator please,

Real life is so cruel,

Allow me to stay here, 

At home with you.

Comedy bows and returns to their seat.

Standing downstage left as a group only the leader of the chorus speaks.

Polymnia:

“Tragedy has one of their most positive monologues when they speak about sleep. They way they acknowledge that they don’t really want to die, they simply want their life to change for the better. Here we see that tragedy isn’t really that negative of a person, they're just someone who is desperate for help in bettering their life.”

“Comedy however has started to really show a different side of themself. They call on Morpheus and beg for him to remove them from this world. That mask of positivity is nearly gone. Now they seem just as depressed and unstable as Tragedy.”

They take a seat on the stage watching the play once more.

Scene 7

TRAGEDY:

Tragedy gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

Life is what?

A disgrace,

A mess,

Struggle and distress,

Ill-temperament and discontent,

Humans, full of pain,

We only put strain on one another,

Niceties and pleasantries.

A continued source of disdain

The gods condemned our creation,

From the start we were damned,

Zeus wants us dead,

…

I want myself dead,

His will is as much my own.

I am tempted by it all

the blades, poisons or pills,

My blood, 

A sacrifice, 

The sink,

The altar on which it’s spilled. 

I cry out in pain for Hades to hear,

I pray that Thanatos is my guide,

I pray that my purse is heavy, 

And that my heart is light.

But I know better.

Death comes for us all,

I pray it will come fast,

This day is a wretched one,

I pray it’s my last. 

Tragedy bows and returns to their seat.

COMEDY:

Comedy gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

Life is what?

A gift?

A blessing?

I’m not really all so sure.

At one time I was, but not so much anymore.

Humans, we’re an experiment,

The earth cradles our growth,

But is one less life really a somber sight?

The gods never celebrated our creation,

From the start we were a punishment upon the Earth,

Pandora was proof of that.

Prometheus wanted us alive,

And that gives me some hope.

So I’ll take his will into my hands.

I’ll attempt to thrive,

With art, music, and medication,

My time here, 

A sacrifice, 

The Earth,

The altar on which it’s splayed. 

I’ll cry out in desperation for the muses to hear,

Praying that one of them will be my guide,

I pray that my purse is heavy, 

And that my heart is light.

Inspiration comes for us all,

Pray it comes fast,

This day is a tough one,

Still,

Pray it’s not your last.

Comedy bows and returns to their seat.

Standing downstage left as a group only the leader of the chorus speaks.

Thalia:

“Tragedy sadly seems to relapse right back into those suicidal ideals from the begining. Saying how Zeus's will is their own. No longer are they condemning all humans, just themself. It seems that this pattern is going to take longer than one play to break.”

“Comedy’s development seems more permanent however. While they still have some hope it seems tainted in a way. As if the world has ripped away the mask and they are trying desperately to glue it back on.”

They take a seat on the stage watching the play once more.

Scene 8

SATYR:

Satyr gets up from their seat and comes to center stage.

"Hello again. Earlier this evening I promised you a story. And yet I have yet to deliver. So before we end our show I think I’ll give you just what I promised."

They pause, and take a deep breath, a hopeful expression decorates their face.

Negative influences suffocate us.

They surround and infect us.

Infect us with something horrid.

Sometimes the infection gets so bad we can’t fight it anymore,

And we just accept it. 

We allow it to destroy who we are,

Our relationships,

It’s a disease. 

One worse than anything even Apollo himself can bring upon man.

Worse than any plague or virus,

It’s mental.

And unlike most diseases or disorders,

No doctor or god will be able to save you.

But

It isn’t hopeless. 

Even if you can’t be saved,

You can be helped.

By your friends,

Your family,

Hell, even your pets.

Something like Bipolar may be an uphill battle,

But you don’t have to face it unarmed.

And even if you're not the one battling,

Or if you’re retired,

You can still help.

You can hand someone a sword, or an ax, or even a shield.

Pass someone your helmet, or chestplate, or boots,

Help however you can.

This battle is a hard one.

No matter how long,

Or how hard you’ve fought it.

And everyone needs an assist every now and then.

Even great Achilles needed Patroclos,

Odysseus needed Circe,

Paris needed Hector,

Even godlike men need assistance.

So why wouldn’t someone who’s 100% human?

Listen,

When it’s late at night I like to talk to myself.

I like to talk to who I was,

Before all this shit got really bad,

I like to tell him very important things that I wish someone would have told me.

I think, that if you’re here tonight, 

You might need to hear it too.

So here goes:

“It isn’t worth it. 

The pain may help you deal with it now but in the end all it does is hurt you. 

And you don’t deserve that.

No one does. 

You, you are so loved. 

I know it doesn’t feel like it, 

I know that everything is big and scary, 

and bad right now. 

But one day, 

when all this shit is over, 

you are gonna get out of here,

One day you are going to have people who love you. 

You are going to meet some of the best people you have ever met, 

and they are going to love you so much.

Even when you fuck up,

And you are going to fuck up, 

But they will still love you.

Because that’s what love is. 

Real love has no boundaries,

You will soon realize that love is given, not earned. 

And even if it was, 

you are worthy of it.

Love should not come with trepidations or fear of abandonment for things you cannot control. 

And if you just hold on a little bit longer you are going to see that there is good in this world. 

Not everything is black and white,

Not everyone is good or bad. 

They’re just people, 

Same as you.

And guess what?

Nobody knows what the fuck they’re doing.

So relax.

Sit down, 

have fun, 

and take a moment to remember that all this getting ahead bullshit can wait. 

You don’t have to be the best, 

Because just trying is good enough. 

So try kid.

And one day you’ll wake up and you’ll realize you’re an adult,

And you can be anything you want to be.

Even if it takes you a long time to get there.

They finish and as they do so they take the hands of Comedy, then tragedy, and all three go off stage together.

[niaswish]

Planning the Future

This is based on an au I introduced in 2020 for the NyxNoct week (Chapter 7 of the Heroic Start by Shiary on AO3).

Rating: Teen +

Warnings: Slightly graphic violence near the end. Implied character deaths.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, implied character deaths, Nyx Ulric/ Noctis Lucis Caleum, eventual fluff, no major character deaths, Dark-ish Nyx, Royalty AU.

Chapter summary: A much needed conversation between 2 princes offers them clarity and a path towards their future.

Nyx brought Prince Noctis to a nearby creek, far enough that they would be able to talk without being overheard but close enough that Nyx would hear if anyone needed him. When he finally turned to look at the man who had once been his prisoner, Nyx found himself unsure as to where to begin.

Thankfully, Noctis spoke first. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I was supposed to stay at the Temple last night." Noctis bowed apologetically towards Nyx. "I know you saw me with Unc... Marshall Leonis and I'm sure you were furious, rightfully so, at my presence with those responsible for the injuries your mother suffered."

Nyx scowled and crossed his arms. "If you're sorry then why did you do it?"

"To get them to leave." When Nyx raised a brow, Noctis continued explaining. "When I was brought here, it was against my will. But instead of being treated as a prisoner like I expected, I was allowed to move around and given a job that I actually liked." Noctis chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've never liked being royalty. Too much attention and pressure to be this perfect person."

Nyx scoffed, "What a stupid expectation."

"Ya, I was surprised by how relaxed you all are about royalty stuff."

Nyx shrugged, "The only reason the Ulrics still have royal titles is due to Lucis being annoying assholes about who can negotiate with them. At this point, being the Ruler of Galahd just means we get a vote in decisions and pretend we make them in front of other nations."

That got Noctis to laugh and something warm and fuzzy replaced the anxiety that Nyx had been feeling. Oh he was smitten alright, and apparently Ramuh approuved? He'd have to check with his mom later. 

For now Nyx still had something they needed to discuss. "Thank you for the apology and keeping Niflheim back until your friend could warn us. However, the Council has elected to wage war on Lucis because Marshall Leonis and your retinue broke the Oath King Regis made about respecting the payment due."

Noctis winced, "I figured that might happen." He turned to look at Nyx, "You don't agree do you? Otherwise why tell me?"

Nyx inclined his head, a slight appreciative smile on his lips. "Before the attack? I did but now... It seems like the wrong target for our Hunters. The only one who would benefit from such a war would be Niflheim. Not exactly what either of us want."

Noctis nodded in agreement for a moment before he frowned, head tilting to one side thoughtfully. "Wait. How did Lucis break that Oath thing in the first place? We've been losing against Niflheim for centuries and Galahd didn't do much when the Wall was reduced so... What happened?"

Nyx was surprised by the change in topic. "You never asked my mom that while you were at the Temple?"

Noctia glanced away, "I was too angry to ask when I was brought there initially then kinda...forgot?"

Nyx couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. "Ramuh's staff! How on Eos have you been able to remember all those orders but forget to ask the reason why you were brought here?"

"Oh shut up!" Noctis hissed in embarrassed anger. "Just tell me already. It's not like Lucis could have sent enough soldiers to make a difference. We also don't have a lot in terms of supplies to share with how isolated Insomnia has become."

Nyx wiped the tears from his eyes even as he answered. "Information. We didn't need soldiers, weapons, or supplies -Galahd provides us with all that- but our abilities are limited to Galahd and the Storm. The Oath has always been about sharing information and trade, that's all."

"Information???"

Nyx nodded and leaned back against a warm rock, tilting his head towards the sun. "Lucis knew that Niflheim was gathering an army near Galahd, had caught wind of a plan to attack us. And yet your father and council made the decision to not share that with us. Then after the attack, they had the galls to deny ever knowing any of it."

Noctis frowned. "How did Galahd find proof of this?"

"Ramuh." Nyx shrugged. "An Oath with his blessing means he is aware of anything and everything related to it. If the information had been delayed or ignored by only a few then the Oath wouldn't have broken. Its destruction was proof enough."

Noctis stayed silent for a while, Nyx echoing it as he allowed the prince to process that knowledge. He took that time to take a good look at the man he'd come to love. Even with a thoughtful frown, Noctis was beautiful. Long lashes framed gorgeous eyes that seemed to shine with emotions, a veritable gate to how his princeling truly felt.

His body was that of a lithe but trained fighter, born from years of training. With an amused smile, Nyx noted that Noctis' muscles had changed in the months since Nyx had first seen it. Still healthy and fit, there was a new roundness to his figure, a lessening of the muscle definition that made Nyx wonder what kinds of meals his princeling had been getting in Insomnia.

Noctis' voice broke through his admiration. "My eyes are up here, Boss." Thankfully, Noctis' tone was amused and playful.

"And they're as gorgeous as the rest of you." Nyx spoke before his brain had caught up. With a hiss, Nyx hurried to apologize. "Sorry that was inappropriate. What did you want to say?" Lifting his eyes, Nyx noticed the blush on his princeling's cheeks. -and he wasn't going to think about how being called boss made his inside twitch.-

"Umm..." Noctis stumbled over his words for a moment before he managed to speak properly. "I have a plan to help you convince your Elders to not go to war with Lucis."

"Oh? Well, I'm all ears. What do you have in mind?" Nyx straightened and leaned closer.

×+×++×

Nyx greeted his mom with a hug and a question. "Did Ramuh know I'd fall in love with the princeling?" His mother laughed at him and he frowned. "I'm being serious, mom."

"I know, Nyx." She took a step back, a hand cupping his cheek as she answered. "No, Ramuh did not know you would fall in love. However, he had been keeping watch over Prince Noctis due to a stupid prophecy that Bahamut insists should come to pass. No, I will not explain that yet. It is neither the time nor of any importance now."

"When King Regis failed to warn Galahd of the impending attack by Niflheim, Ramuh saw it as a chance to give Prince Noctis a happier life. One free of the burden of royalty that he wilted under in Insomnia. The Oath initially specified that the Ruler would become the sacrifice but Ramuh decided otherwise. In his own words, Noctis has the making of a Galahdian and should be allowed to make his own path in life."

Nyx relaxed at that, relieved that Ramuh hadn't predicted his love for his princeling. He placed his own hand over his mom's with a soft smile. "Then can you help us with the Elders? We have a plan."

"I'm listening."

"A war between Lucis and Galahd would benefit Niflheim and open us up to further attacks. Prince Noctis proposes that instead, Lucis hires Galahd's Hunters to help them repel Niflheim from Lucis, with the price being twice what is ours to claim as well as all of (location). And... He's agreed to let me court him."

His mom raised a brow, "A Galahdian or Lucian courtship?"

"Galahdian Hunter's courtship, of course."

"And the offering?"

"Aldercapt's head."

His mother's eyes flashed bright white as thunder mixed with her delighted laughter. "Galahd's path is a war indeed! Just not the one the Elders envisioned. Very well, I'll deal with the Elders and your father. You, on the other hand, will have to deal with the Lucians."

"Mom!" But it was too late as his mom kissed his forehead and left, leaving him alone with a monumental task.

Ifrit's ass, how was he supposed to explain to a bunch of overprotective Lucians the concept of courtship Hunts?

A/N: Thank you for the great week! Feel free to ask me about this au whenever :)

[king-nyx]

Hades and Persephone are married. Their son, Zagreus died so they adopted his clone/his soul in a new body, Dionysus.

So, is Nyx the god-mother?

[angrytreemartensmain]

WTF IS THIS

IMA BOUTTA BEAT A BITCH

@sharkyy599 @essentially-a-worm-on-a-string @wheredidmybooksgo @the-squishy-scrimblo @invisible-hidden @iamsofuckinggay @inka-boi @whyd1di @al3x-y @italic-doing-random-shit @ghastlygraves @savolicious @priskyd @bellafiavela @largefound-the-sequel @mellybabbles @italic-doing-random-shit @miv2nir @fizz-wizz-dizz @galaxytoons @standard-human @al3x-y @fellaboo @largefound-the-sequel @blog-classicalruby @juno-punk @wassup-i-exist @kers-seeri @magm4kyy @rushin-safire @psychocchain @mrfellsans @russmel @lazy-shapeshiofter @largefound-the-sequel

@sillygoofyqueer @mellybabbles @sunnvydaze @c00kietin @samijami @panda-of-the-trash @big-coyote @ksopaz @oh-look-a-homosexual-punk-boy @oodlesndoodles @scuddle-bubble101 @iamunabletothinkofablogname @flooffydergen @justanidiotartist @liliallowed @alurafiremender @proxdragon @moontherian @swiftmitsu @fateswind0wseat @elizakai @tuxibirdie @fir3lit3 @thatidiotutartist @italic-doing-random-shit @corruptgrail @wishtale-blogs @thetunashop @bunny-behind-a-keyboard @zucchichat @masked-artist-xp @mochadagoober @safwunnz @nyxus-nyx @nottefierr @stonesandpeaches @oliwas @tuxibirdie @switchthedragon

@elizakai @roboobin @void-imp @moonwooden @flovoid @cowplantrelish @stellarfalls @adoringsentiment @autumnserenade @void-imp @ezra-trait @tr-angyo @alelelesimz @orphyd @barbieaiden @kazuaru @softerhaze @itsmariejanel @gunthermunch @lucidicer @yekkiz @uwutrait @kingfakey @beebeesiims @literalite @orphyd @sashima @levinbolts @rosymiel @acuar-io @bunmou @pralinesims @imageingrunge @o--b-s-c-u-r-u--s @rottengurlz @grieving4theliving @kashisun @shadowcursedballs @bookishjules

I want to tag a lot more peeps but Tumblr doesn’t want me to 😠

DONT SCROLL THIS IS IMPORTANT!

im begging anyone who sees this post to prevent rapesexual, im begging you. no one will see this but if you do reblog to get the message out that these fuckers exist and dont deserve to exist heres the flag so you can know who to fucking block, report and tell to fuck off

i dont want this to ruin the pride and help with self esteem of being lgbtq+ so a signal boost from larger accounts might be nice

[mayoiayasep]

hey google how do you block trending tags on twitter

[as-the-stars-foretold]

my best piece of mmvstr work!!!!!1

[radioromantic-moved]

hoohuguhghouhgh stellar firma posting? on MY christmas day? it’s more likely than you think.

-AUGH. AUUGHGHG the new episode was SO GOOD. they’re going to seize the means of production

-god i LOVE these fucking space leftists. they really went there. david’s finally breaking through trexel’s crusty brain sludge and teaching him about the nature of the working class that’s so funny

-trex chooses anarchy <3

-i also adore how imogen is just past the point of even caring. she wants to see where this goes as much as everyone else. 

-someone on discord suggested that between his knowledge of obscure stellar firma lore and his patreon-exclusive videos trexel has a special interest in history and FINE. fine. that’s very sweet. is that what you wanted to hear.

-he and cyril can infodump to each other or something. maybe. possibly.

-i hope we get to see enola again now that we’re talking about revolution...i miss them.  

-anyway good episode! great episode! started off sad because i don’t like it when david’s depressed but it got SO GOOD. space communism for the win :)

-and hhhey. the SONG.

-don’t forget...trexel is the best

-at long last he returns to the cosmic lounge for his grandest performance yet!

-i’ve listened to it three times just this morning thank YOU

-augh this is so good i’m so happy. this really is the most wonderful time of the year. i have to write a college essay at some point but i’m not thinking about that.

[thetempleofnyx]

@8kh

I half closed my eyes and imagined this was the spot where everything I’d ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was now standing here in front of it.

― Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go

[thetempleofnyx]

tr 257 leaks.....

╥﹏╥ 🥹 ╥﹏╥ 😩 ╥﹏╥