#softsmile

[desertslegacy]

what never belonged to angels

(continued from here) @fangedjustice

He was practically buzzing as she approached, and she understood that he had sensed her coming a mile off – or perhaps, rather, that he was so tightly wound that he could have noticed a pin drop from across the ballroom. A consequence of his alert nature, surely, of his background and the less-than-ideal circumstances they find themselves in, being so watched as though in an exhibit by their otherworldy captors.

(She wasn't naïve. She understood that the outstanding tension between them was surely to blame in part, and she dismissed the thought that perhaps this had been a bad idea. She steeled herself against the jitter in her own limbs as they moved from the close, stifling air of the ballroom to the crisp winter night.

The bandage must come off, the wound must not be allowed to fester in the darkness. Expose it to the light, assess the damage, heal.

She resisted the urge to rub at the scar tissue, pushed back the dizzy memory of that dark, fetid cabin, of the recovery she had gone through with the healers, the heady nights of fever as the last infectious traces of whatever horrid magicks had cast their pall on them seeped from her.)

Igrene flicked an assessing glance over him as they walked – thanks to all saints, his wounds seemed as well healed as hers, though she certainly couldn't account for whatever clawed inside his heart. She shivered at the memory of the echoing despair, gooseflesh in concert with the cold night air. He had certainly borne the brunt of that, hadn't he?

They didn't make small talk as they made their way from ballroom to the offered gardens - was it that neither were inclined to it, or was the weight of awkwardness so oppressive? It was hard to tell, and Igrene was ill used to it. She had never so restrained what was on her mind, had never had a use for such a level of toeing around the subject - but neither could she have been accused of being cruel, or of misunderstanding.

The garden was indeed lovely, though it had a vicious sort of charm to it. It was not what was expected, certainly, with large tropical pitcher plants, great leafy flower trees growing wild and overhanging the paths.

She had never seen anything like this in her life, she thought, but what she said was, "I did not expect you to have the habit of being so unforgiving, Sir Lloyd. Even if it is to yourself."

She did not turn to face him wholly - allowed him the grace to react while not under direct scrutiny - but from the corner of her eye she regarded his movements.

She continued, coming to stand in front of a frangipani tree larger than any tree she had ever seen, a hand reaching up to brush her fingers against the fragrant blooms, "We were warned, going into the forest, what to expect - that creatures were behaving irrational to their nature, and that there would be violence."

Here she did turn, and canted her head at him - her smile still did not curve her lips, but there was a glint in her eye that could have been a challenge, could have been a tease, could have been a smile. "I expect neither of us is stranger to violence, and I expect that is why neither of us balked at the assignment. I'm no babe, Sir Lloyd. My family has guarded the Nabata Desert for generations, and I am but the latest in a long line. Do you think you, as one man, to be greater than the desert herself?"

#in character #toaball2023 #thread: what never belonged to angels #interaction: fangedjustice #air flower 1 #softsmile

[dragon-kiddos]

“Kana,” The voice that speaks does not come from the people in front of Kana in the hallway. Instead, it echoes from behind him; ever so reluctant, ever so heavy. When his attention is turned, his gaze will fall upon Rhajat who dons a different attire— to the thanks of Ophelia’s persistence— one of silvers, blues, and black. Though even it cannot be the reason why she looks so uncomfortable standing in the hallway. “I apologize for not… you know, saying anything when I arrived.” And she was never going to if she hadn’t blown her cover by seeing Mitama and her father.

Rhajat clears her throat, pulling lightly at Kana’s sleeve. “Happy birthday, little one. I’d give you a… gift but… OK, can we leave this hallway. I can’t think properly with everyone staring.” ( Strange, since Kana was the subject of their gazes more rather than herself, but a request is a request. ) The diviner takes Kana by the arm and leads him into an empty hallway by the first set of dormitory dorms. A sigh, almost too heavy, leaves her lips before she turns back to Kana. This time, with a smile.

“OK, back to the top, Rhajat. Ahem, happy birthday, Kana. I have business to attend to in a bit so I can’t stay long but—” A box is pushed into the little dragon’s hand. “—here. Uh, it’s a few of the charms I managed to master last week. For each one, there’s a small note on what it does and how to call forth its magic.”

A pause before she continues, “Has anyone skipped out on praising you for your birthday? I’ll just need a name if so… heh, yeah just a name.” But a series of footsteps from approaching students, those who simply wish to walk throughout the school and converse, stop her from a fit of giggling. Quickly, Rhajat holds out her arms and manages a weak smile. “You can have a hug, I guess. I mean, sure. For your birthday.”

There’s been something off lately. Perhaps it was the weight in the air, or the dark aura that seemed to emanate around corners in the most familiar of ways. At first, Kana shrugged it off, but as the feeling persisted, it became too much to ignore. 

Something was here. But what? 

Kana.

Ah. The shadows’ liaison.

Rhajat’s voice is soft, as soft as it had always been. The same monotone allure, but he knows her well enough—or hopes that he does—to hear past it to the soft affections her words house. Thin fingers curl around his sleeve, drawing him back as he turns around, and the little dragon sighs in content as he finally faces his friend. 

Truthfully, he is a little upset that she waited to reveal herself. No doubt she had no intent to do so at all. And yet, this was a better gift than anything she had to offer. He follows without comment, knowing better to maintain his excitement until Rhajat was more comfortable. Only when she smiles does he finally squeal and throw his arms around her in a hug, cutting off her careful words in the process. 

“Thank you, Rhajat.” She could have left out a gift altogether, but he clutches that box tight against his chest after pulling away. “Seeing you is the best part of my day! I missed you.”

He pauses briefly. “Actually, y’know, Ophelia hasn’t said Happy Birthday yet…”

#tenayalla #wanna ѕee мy cool dragon powerѕ? (inbox) #softsmile

[amnesiac-pawn]

[ Faerghus ] - A slow-paced partner dance that allows both dancers to pull in close, practically embracing each other as they sway to the music. Popular amongst couples.

She cannot dance.

Or rather, she is not very talented at it. Certainly can't manage more than the most basic waltz; anything more advanced and she admits to having two left feet.

Eating is so much more important than dancing, anyway.

The band strikes up a new song, this one slow and easy. She wipes crumbs off her fingertips, reaching for Morgan. "Oh...this one won't be...too bad, hex boy...please, I'd like...to have one dance with you..."

A soft whine escapes him; he was so sure that dating—rather, being engaged to—a girl who admitted that she can’t dance would mean he got to stay away from the dance floor, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. Morgan could dance, if need be, but that didn’t mean he wanted to. 

Thankfully, he knew enough about this music and its associated dances to know that they could very easily get away with just hugging and swaying side to side. The actual dances in the crowd would be tracing their little boxes on the floor with their feet, spinning ever-so-slowly around with their partners, but it was entirely unnecessary. 

But Ilyana asked. And he would never turn her down. 

“Alright, thunder girl.” His hands find hers, fingers entwining. The light catches on her ring; he smiles. Even now, she refused to take it off. Even after he had offered her other jewelry that would match her dress far better. 

In Naga’s name, he loved her. 

“But, can we go outside? I’d feel more comfortable out there.” 

At her nod, he leads her out into the cool night, where a few other couples had gotten the same idea and were already curled up against each other, dancing peacefully. A slight breeze blew through them both; immediately, mage sheds of his jacket and drapes it over his beloved’s shoulders. “Better?” he whispers, a soft question. 

The music was the perfect volume, in his opinion; not so loud that it, on top of the cacophony of voices, made his head hurt, but not soft enough that it couldn’t be heard, either. Morgan pulls his beloved close, folding her into his arms while her own wrap around his neck. Just as expected, they do little more than sway side to side in time with the music, but as she burrows his face into the crook of his neck and he leans his cheek against the top of her head, he can’t help but wonder if this is what true happiness felt like.

#hungrymage #𝐈 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰! (inbox) #toaball2022 #softsmile

[rozyrne]

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐑 !

rivalries are put aside, and camaraderie takes their place. and for the golden deer, pulling neck and neck with the eagles and lions despite having the fewest contestants in the ring is all the reason to celebrate! or so rosado and hortensia thought. at the post-tournament grand banquet, the elusian pair have set up a golden deer corner, complete with yellow and cervid decor and drapery, and both hosts arrayed in house colors and face paint. "three cheers for knoll! three cheers for hilda! three cheers for eliwood!" "fear the deer!" a celebration lifting up the class heroes who'd carried them from underdog into the spotlight, and for all the deer who cleared the way valiantly to let them get there: —hip-hip hooray!

FOOD & DRINK:

—  CUPCAKE DECORATING  ╱  from yellow-sugar icing to pretzel antlers to cookie toppings shaped like deer, there's no shortage of supplies to make your cupcakes look any which way you want.

—  CARAMEL MERINGUES  ╱  a triple layer of chocolate and caramel in glass containers, tied off with a bit of string attached to a spoon. perfect to grab and take with you, or feed to a loved one.

—  DOE POPS  ╱  cake pops shaped like deer heads! and something sticking out of each one. a paper fortune? what does yours say?

—  GOLDEN SPICE CIDER  ╱  a warm and buzzy autumnal drink, perfect for the season and sure to banish any chills. both alcoholic and non-alcoholic varieties available.

—  CROUCHING CHOCOLATE, HIDDEN STAG  ╱  a culinary minigame? a table is arranged with a terrarium-like miniature woodland display, complete with moss, trees, golden deer flags, and a herd of deer themselves. one item in this display is made of chocolate. how many things are you willing to bite to find which one it is?

ARTS & CRAFTS:

—  THIRTY-POINT CROWN  ╱  craft your own glorious headpiece with paint, twigs, and twine to show off your deer pride! who can boast the most impressive rack? ( of antlers, duh. what were you thinking? )

—  WOOD CARVING  ╱  for the dexterous and crafts-minded, a setup with display and instructions to carve your own wooden deer to take home. organizers are not responsible for injuries.

—  DEERLY BELOVED  ╱  a stack of deer-shaped paper and pens greet you. "write a compliment and stick it onto its recipient!" the instructions say. if you're fast, maybe they won't even know it's you.

—  READY-TO-PAINT CERAMICS  ╱  a station of unfired bowls and plates and small vases invites you to decorate them however you want! several stencils are provided for the uninitiated, or you can go where your hart takes you.

—  DECORATE A FRIEND  ╱  from washable paint to stick-on sequins, glitter bombs and pinnable deer tails. find a willing victim to array in deer spirit — or make one.

GAMES:

—  FÓDLAN CHESS  ╱  a traditional strategy board game using a triangle-shaped board that can be played by two to three people. the objective is to be the first to move all your pieces to one of the other corners by jumping over your opponents' pieces. are you up for the competition?

—  LIMBO  ╱  everyone knows that being a deer isn't just about strength or smarts, but flexibility. challenge mode: wear an antler crown while playing, and don't let it fall off your head!

—  ANTLER TOSS  ╱  you have five tries to land as many rings on the tines as you can for a prize. if a friend is willing, they can wear the antlers on their head for you to aim at instead!

—  DEER PONG  ╱  the classic party game, with alcoholic and non-alcoholic versions. some say that the non-alcoholic one misses the point of the challenge, but at least it lets everyone play, right?

—  HEADLOCK  ╱  in a classic show of strength, stamina, and bravado, it's time to wrestle like the stags do! put on a headdress of real oaken antlers ( not light, that ) and lock heads with your opponent to throw them to the ground! no use of other body parts or implements allowed.

GUIDELINES:

reblog this ask meme to indicate that your muse is participating! anyone who's reblogged the meme is automatically accepting asks, so no need to double-check. 　

please be mindful of not only waiting for interactions to come to you, but try to be proactive about sending to others too. it's not quite polite to always expect others to do the work! 　

muses from any house are welcome! it's a celebration meant for everyone. 　

this is still narratively part of BOEL, but to keep things separate from the BOEL tags, you may use the tag #GDPride2024 for related posts if you wish!

#GDPride2024 #a little smth smth for boel celebrations! #as stated anyone is welcome to come have fun not just deer folks :softsmile: #consider this as rosado's reblog for participation #tho he'll also be helping to run the stand kjslksg

[revelale]

TOA Anniversary Munday!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

tagging: you? :0)

Name: lilly!

Pronouns: she / they, big they though!

Birthday (no year): april 4th!

Where are you from? What is your time zone? pst, lmao. gmt-8, i think?

Roleplay experience: roughly like 20 years now? lmao, cringe.

Got any pets? yeah, my little buppy, max. he's a demon.

Favorite time of year: winter!

Some interests and things you like: cooking, baking, rhythm games, sleeping, lmao.

Some funfacts & trivia about you: i'm double-jointed in one hand; i tend to only bake cookies in batches of like 7 dozen or more; i've killed at least like six different succulents this year alone; every so often, i'll think about spider-man and its various iterations and fully forget what i was doing before i started thinking about it.

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? the more recent persona games, a truly insane number of otomes, i still have not finished yakuza 0, pokemon, dress-up games, lmao,,,,,

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: dragon, dragonite!

How did you get into Fire Emblem? ......... wanted another dating sim real bad and my friend told me to play awakening please do not judge me—

What Fire Emblem games have you played? everything post-awakening, lmao,,,,, except for sov, which continues to elude me in completion for reasons beyond my understanding

First Fire Emblem game: awakening!

Favorite Fire Emblem game: would it be bad if i said none of them—well, okay. technically, i think an awful lot about fates, but i don't necessarily think it's my favorite? ..... but i do think about it a lot.

Any Fire Emblem crushes? nnnnnnot that i can think of?

If you’ve played the following games, who was your first S support? wwww, awakening was chrom ( by accident ), then olivia ( intentionally lmao ); fates was takumi; three houses was claude lel; engage was pandreo, to no one's surprise.

Favorite Fire Emblem class: KINSHI KNIGHT NATION RISE!!!!

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class? villager, and i would have died four times before you recruit me.

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? golden deer, probably, lmfao.

If you were an Engage character, which Emblem would you Engage with? none, i'm firmly of the belief i'm an ultra npc.

How did you find TOA? chuu! had severe 3h brainrot, and chuu already was in the group and told me it was like full of people who didn't need me to be Online All The Time! it's funny because i ended up not even apping for someone from 3h either, lmao.

Current TOA muses: pandreo!

Who was your first TOA muse? If you don’t have them anymore, could you see yourself picking them up again? cynthia, my silly little horse girl, lmao. i always think about picking her up, but it's always a debate of if i've done enough on her or not. easily my favorite character to pick up and start running with, though.

Have you had any other TOA muses? shigure, lon'qu, CONSTANCE VON NUVELLE, m!byleth, shiro, kiragi,,,,, i think that's it, actually? i don't remember any of my other ones, oopsie, lmao.

Do you think you have a type of character you gravitate towards? i tend to generally write characters in my wheelhouse, though i think i have deviations now and again lmao. like, who would think i'd write shigure, right? but, mostly cheerful characters, i think. mood-makers, the kind of people who would set a scene, but also be enough of a backseat player to the driving force where any protagonist or antagonist would take up the reins more comfortably? i think they tend to get written off as genki or filler characters, so i like kind of prodding at their insecurities and seeing what makes them tick instead.

What do you believe you enjoy writing the most? lmao, lbr i'm made for the clown show. nonsensical moments, increasingly strange meet and greets? but, i like doing big establishing moments that suspend what you know about my characters at face value to explore what's deeper in there. i'll slowburn friendship, idgaf; that's my shit.

Favorite TOA-related memory: lel, team justice is still a highlight in my memory from l&k, but i also remember this very specific combat sequence i wrote with rai in the first major lore event with felix and cynthia that was sick as hell to do! ....... also, probably every piemageddon. it is funny seeing even the serious characters fear for their lives / get uber maniacal in a ridiculous situation.

Got any delusions that didn’t see the light of day in TOA that you’d like to share? do not look behind the curtain, lmao.

#✞ ` ‣ 【 OOC 】 #this was cute to do thank you neffi :softsmile:

[duskofendflame]

@bxldrsdraumar asked:

As Sigurd's eyes found the young man that was to be his next partner in this affair, he could not help but smile - he had seen the young, fresh-faced man about the monastery, an energetic and willful professor who infused the place with life. "Well met, professor!" He extended a hand to shake, the bangle of this game visible on his wrist, the mark of he who had kept his word. He saw that the young man carried one with the same mark, and his smile widened. "This game is rather easy, is it not?" He winked, teasing - he knew of course that there had been those who'd shared more unfortunate fates in the previous round, but it did not bear saying. He'd no intention of betraying a man for things greater than mere candy, and could see that Corrin was a man of similar virtue. "A joke, of course. The game is truly to get the measure of your opponent, isn't it?"

Corrin is rather relieved to see that his "opponent" for this round bears a mark that brandishes to the world that he was loyal. He would have hated to be paired up with one of the betrayers, to know that they had been cruel enough to do it once.

But the man in front of him now seems kind, and while they had not talked before, Corrin had at least seen him around the monastery, if only in passing.

"Yes, I suppose. There will always be those who are good at hiding their intentions though," He falls silent for a moment, trying to force himself to not remember the past he had lived under the thumb of Nohr's king - still not his father, "But rest assured I am not one of them! I fully intend to be your ally, Lord Sigurd!"

#ic: i make my own fate! #ic #inbox: i can always count on you #supports: you know me so well #support: sigurd #toawitchsaccord #bxldrsdraumar #//:softsmile: hi sigurd #thread: mini (sigurd)

[inserviceto]

"Harken-"

Her eyes must be playing a cruel joke. Clearly, it must be a trick of the eye-- perhaps even a hallucination on her end no..? Perhaps she's pushed herself to far.

"You.. You disappear for so long.. too long. You left me waiting and waiting and my heart ached every day when nothing came up from you" Some part of her felt sorry for anyone else who had to listen to this, she knew it was about to get ugly.

Isadora frowned as some rage from deep inside bubbled out of control. Her pained tone turn slowly into a mix of rage "How could you- How could you promise me something so cruel that day only to completely abandon me" She missed him so much, yet.. her anger was justified "Could you have not sent me a letter, or even a message saying you were okay- or alive?! Was that so hard for you to do, Harken!?"

Harken had just been returning to the knights' barracks after the special training that had taken place. Although no one had come out of that strange realm with any wounds, the mental fatigue and demoralization of his own personal performance weighed on him like something physical.

He clearly hadn't been doing enough to maintain his skills. He'd need to get up earlier, work harker--

"Harken-"

The familiarity of the voice snaps him out of his thoughts in an instant, reacting as if someone had jabbed him with a hot poker.

He heard familiar voices all the time. Laughter. Fearful screams and broken cries. Wispy words that reminded him of his failures, of what he needed to do in order to make it right -- to begin to make it right. Voices of dead comrades and old masters, but never hers. Though she was one of many he had wrong and failed, she was not dead -- at least as far as he knew.

Blood is rushing in his ears.

But, as he finds his body moving towards the source of the voice without any aware input from himself, Harken finds it difficult to cast back to the last current news out of Pherae. After the slaughter of his fellow knights and kidnapping of Lord Elbert, his entire being -- worthless as it was -- had been bent on tracking down those responsible, and dragging them down to hell with him.

For days he could barely keep track of, that's what filled his cracked core. Eating, sleeping, thoughts of a home he did not belong to and people he was too ashamed to face -- it all fell to the wayside. All that had mattered was recovering Lord Elbert, and if he no longer lived, the only recourse Harken had was the greatest sin.

There is a tightness, a constriction, in his chest. It makes his breaths short and his heart race rabbit-fast.

The only thoughts he'd spared towards Isadora and Pherae, to Lord Eliwood and Lady Eleanora, had been cowardice and shame. How he could not bare to stand before them in such stark failure. Alive. Alive where he should not be. Alive when so many others that deserved to breathe and love and live were dead without even a proper burial!

She looked so painfully real before him. Beautiful and torturous. Her expression shifted from disbelief to grief to anger, a storm of emotion echoed in flesh.

Her words landed like burning lashes from a whip. He would not interrupt, would not take away her right to these feelings and reactions. Their confrontation was not private, however, and though it was slightly more secluded here than out in one of the more high traffic walkways in Garreg Mach, there were still far too many eyes and ears pretending to not observe.

"Isa...Isadora...," Harken breathes out, feeling faintly dizzy as he finally finds his voice. "I am...I'm so..."

What? He was what? What could he possibly say to her? Of all the things he'd inflicted upon those around him, he had done Isadora the worst without ever having laid a hand on her.

"I am sorry--!" he eventually manages, his hands feeling jittery and disconnected from himself as he spoke. He clasped them tightly behind his back, mind blank and racing wildly at the same time. "You deserved much better from me -- better than me, as well. I...I should have returned to Pherae."

Harken falters, wetting his lips with a tongue that feels far too dry.

"If I were a true man of honor and strength, I would have. I would have faced whatever punishments awaited me. I would have...would have released you from this anchored tie I hold you in," he murmurs, trying to keep his voice clear and steady but failing as a hot, tangled knot grows in his throat.

"But I am not such a man. I have never been. I...will never be. When I lost Lord Elbert, when the others were slain...I could not return to Lady Eleanora and Lord Eliwood, not empty handed." Desperation had led him to believe he might be able to rescue Lord Elbert at first. The more he dug up, the less it seemed a possibility; that fragile hope had died quickly.

He cannot meet her eyes for long.

"...I could not inflict false hope on you so, Isadora. Once I...knew that I could not succeed in returning Lord Elbert to Pherae, I marched toward the deaths of those that had taken him as well as my own. I thought it-- it would have been a gentler path for you. I would be presumed killed in action, as with the rest of the elite guard. You would grieve. You would move on. You would be better off."

He'd not planned for returning alive. He couldn't send her word of his survival, only to carry out his attack on the Black Fang and dying in battle.

She rightly thought him cruel for promising marriage upon his return, only to disappear without any sort of clues, but giving her hope where there would be no happy ending was not something he could do to her.

"You are right to be wounded and upset by me. How shall I be punished for the many wrongs I have inflicted upon you, Isadora?"

#[:softsmile:] #[i am so ill & depraved about them] #[rip his throat out queen!!!]

[knighteclipsed]

like shattered glass.

a drabble: immediately following the events of the fall 2023 arena word count: 548 words

// depicts strong negative emotions.

The veil of the illusion falls at last; no oceans, no forests, no deserts. It is between one blink and the next that the monastery resumes your vision, and it is between one breath and the next that you promptly leave the venue.

It’s late out now—normally, you would’ve basked in that, but the darkness feels different right now. Where normally, it would be an open canvas—nothing certain and everything free to be dreamt within—now, it feels oppressive: a smothering isolation akin to the tightness in your chest; the moon crawling upwards nothing more than a mockery of what freedom truly is. Your eyes stay on the ground as you walk to your quarters; maybe people are watching, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You shut the door behind you—maybe too forcefully, but only just. It is only when you crash against the back of it, falling to the floor like shattered glass that finally, you let yourself feel something: and everything comes crashing in. (Notably, that tightness in your chest; the force of your own heartbeat; the loudness of your thoughts.)

It’s almost impressive that you held yourself together for that last match. Haha.

…That wasn’t funny. (Normally, though, it would be.) You can’t muster up any laughter though, most of it just dying in your lungs. Instead, your heart just beats, pounding; it’s almost like your head could explode from the force of all that blood. Your hands find a place atop your head, but no matter how forcefully you hold it together, in truth: you are not holding it together. Your memories still command you—isolation against your own will.

It wouldn’t be so bad if you could call those actions your own—you couldn’t even begin to count all the times you’ve acted or spoken or smiled with nothing more than the intention to offend, belittle: cement your control. You know what to expect from people, and you know what will come of your… habits. But you had not killed them on purpose—you had lifted the axe, and you had aimed to kill, but those actions stopped being yours the moment it hit their body. Their double was the one who should’ve been hit; they themself didn’t deserve to die. (Or perhaps maybe they did, but you could entertain that thought another time.)

Regardless: they cannot hold that against you. It wasn’t fair to what truly happened. (But they did; you feel it miserably.) It clogs up your insides.

An inhale inwards, slow and measured—following: an exhale out. Your heart is still killing you, what with its incessant beating—a motion so violent you could feel it moving against your ribcage; but your breathing evens: that overwhelming feeling of suffocation falls away, like vines retracting from a corpse.

(Like those vines, however, it does not truly go away; it may still very well kill you.) Not that you will let it.

It’s late out now—but then again, you never sleep easily anyway. It would be infinitely easier to just sit here in silence, let the emotions wash away until you become yourself again. Perhaps then you could speak like yourself again too: Yes, I did that. Are you going to start crying over it? (A normal person might’ve considered an apology, but you aren’t weak like them.)

An inhale inwards; an exhale out. The moon continues to rise.

#[ ‘i will rise to glory once more.’ ] (drabbles) #// Andddddddd we're through with our arena content!!! #// LET'S GO TEAM 13 WOO!!!! #// CLAPPING AND CHEERING!!!!!!!!! #// valter's out here feeling emotions and whatever the fuck but like. #// just ignore him fr this ain't about him #// (actually that'd probably be horrendous for his emotional development. anyways.) #// also gonna shout out ARVAL FIRE EMBLEM specifically for being super swaggers!!! #// i adored them vi but valter's very pissy about them and i do want to be clear that we do not share sentiments nfjdkngsk #// this was also originally in third person but then i realized second would be more potent :softsmile: #// anyways back to your regularly scheduled thread posting dnfjkgsnk

[sacaeblade]

wind across the plains | blade lord

Your name is Lyn and you are your father's daughter. He is the chieftain of the Lorca, as well as your sword instructor. He is a reticent man, like the rest of the men in your tribe, but you admire him like no one else. One day, you hope to be even half as masterful as your father not only at the sword, but the bow as well.

Your name is Lyndis and you are your mother's daughter. She is gentle and graceful as the winds dancing over the plains on a summer night. You don't think yourself to compare to her beauty, but when you're older, people will look at you and think the same things of you.

Your name is Lyn and you are no one's daughter, because your family is gone. In one night, the only community you've ever known is reduced to corpses. You're a fool for thinking the others would follow you. You were your father's daughter, after all.

For six terribly lonely months, Lyn is all you are.

After a chance meeting in Bulgar, you reclaim a name you never thought you would hear again, only this time a title is attached: Lady Lyndis. Your mother had been the noble lady of Caelin and now you are the Marquess of Caelin's only granddaughter. Your quest for revenge against the Taliver bandits can wait for the time being.

You cling to this information like a lifeline; you have family left and he wants to meet you.

Filthy mongrel, the nobles sneer at you. They denounce you as an imposter — no real noble lady of Caelin would have her blood tainted with that of Sacae.

Despite this, your knights (your friends), your little ragtag team of mercenaries, unfailingly address you as their lady. Even if no one else will, they treat you with respect. They follow your orders and those of the enigmatic tactician by your side without question.

It's not until you stand covered in the blood of your granduncle that you can finally meet your grandfather. A sudden fear grips you. What if it's already too late? What if he doesn't recognize you? What if he too, upon finally seeing you, doesn't want a girl with Sacaen blood as his granddaughter?

"Thank you for living," is what he tells you, feeble body holding you tight, shaking with the effort of sitting upright.

You're so glad. You're glad to be alive. You're glad that he's alive. You're glad that your name is Lyndis.

For your grandfather, you will be Caelin's princess. You will cut down anyone who thinks to harm the last family you have. You will put aside the yearning in your heart for the plains so long as your grandfather still draws breath.

Only one year of happiness is all you can afford before your life is once again overturned by something greater than you. As much strife as it causes you, you must leave your grandfather behind to travel with two of the other Lycian lords.

Lyndis, is how the mild-mannered Pheraen boy calls you. Before meeting him, you had thought poorly of the nobles who had turned their backs on you for your heritage. Now, you look at him and see what a noble should be. Even in the face of his own tragedies, he holds his head high and pushes onward. He has not just strength of heart, but unfailing kindness, as well.

Lyn, is how the brash Ostian boy calls you. He is reckless and dependent on his raw strength; a threat to both himself and allies. You see yourself, before you had allowed people back into your heart, in him and you cannot stop yourself from quarreling with him. The two of you are far too similar at heart or perhaps you're just jealous that he's stronger than you are.

Lyn.

Lyndis.

Daughter of Roland.

Daughter of Hanon.

You are your father's daughter. You will wield both sword and bow to protect those that are dear to you.

You are your mother's daughter. You were born with the power to lead, regardless of what others think of you. You are the lady of Caelin.

CLASS MASTERED: BLADE LORD

#⚔️ drabbles #⚔️ blade lord mastery #//think a lot about how lyn is referred to differently by different people and how that changes over the game :softsmile: #//sorry rai if you happen to see this before i actually submit my claim LMAO its coming #fe7 spoilers //

[higaneion]

commissioned artwork by fubbz!

#musings #(( oh i can post this here now that she is here softsmile... )) #(( speaking of which i need to write... we will get u that axe or reason point this month girlie!! ))

[pridelessdaydreamer]

"Hey, Linhardt. Do you dream a lot when you sleep? Bad dreams, sometimes?"

Caspar pokes at the remnants of his dinner with his fork. Usually he'd be headed to the kitchen for a second helping by now, but he can't quite find his appetite today. It's weird, how a troubled mind can affect the body. He doesn't like it much.

"Do they ever...keep coming back? Some of the worst bits?" He pushes his plate aside, making room to fold his arms over the table and pillow his head atop them, head turned so he can look up at his friend. "You sleep a lot, so I thought—I dunno. Maybe you'd know some tricks to make 'em go away or something. If someone else were dealing with something like that."

It isn’t difficult to tell when something is off with Caspar von Bergliez.

He’s a loud little thing, filled with joy and righteous pride. He overflowed with justice and the determination to make right—there was never really an instance in which that spirit of his quieted down, tempering for the sake of that which was unjust. He roared with unabated passion, and that poured into everything he did.

So Linhardt notices when he is quiet. (He notices when he is stilled.)

“Not always,” they answer briefly, though it’s clear that their friend’s words carry a deeper meaning. “If I dreamt every time I fell asleep, I’d get rather exhausted—more so than usual, that is.”

“But…” (On the topic of bad dreams…) “I do.”

“…I do.”

Why do you ask? (It’s bitten down—knowing to give the boy space.) Caspar was nothing if not honest, nothing if not true. (He would give himself away—and indeed, it is in his final remarks that Linhardt confirms their suspicions.)

“Well… There aren't really any tricks, I would say, to just… ‘make them go away.’ It takes time for something like that—something that haunts you so deeply—to really ease, you know?”

Taking a sip of water—she had finished eating a while ago—she continues:

“But if this someone wanted to make it easier, they could talk to a friend about it. Get it out their system.”

#[‘i do believe you’re right.’] (asks) #[ support: caspar ] #[ berglietz ] #// GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #// i've been meaning to get to this for SO LONG #// MADDIE HOW YOU DESTROY ME WITH CASPAR AND HIS LITTLE -ISMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #// gwehgshgshdsgbah :fewix_wibble: #// me writing this as someone who canonically (irl) has not had very many nightmares #// and most were resolved by me going back to sleep and then god mode beating up the bad guy #// i'm not a normal person in case this wasn't clear enough already :woozy_face: #// gwahhhhhhhhhhhhh THEMST!!!!!!!!!!!! #// also sabbam vitatham beloved :softsmile: #// (if this sounds like forsython no it doesn't) #[‘it is a long road to mastery.’] (threads) #[thread: 'insomniacs anonymous']

[dragon-kiddos]

"Kana!"

The voice that reaches the young dragon is one he is well familiar with; however, if Kana turns towards its source, the sight he will meet will not be of the Hoshidan princess, at least not right away.

Rather, what greets him first are the curious eyes of a pegasus dressed in the traditional gear of Castle Shirasagi. Only behind his back can Hinoka's red head be spotted.

"Come oooon, Hajime, I'm supposed to say hello first!" Her annoyance is entirely feigned, however, if the laughter accompanying the exclamation is anything to go by. Hinoka soon catches up to her mount, the smile she offers Kana one as bright as the clear skies of her home.

"It's been quite a while, hasn't it, Kana! It's so good to see you. How have you been? You mom told me you're here, and I just knew I had to find you."

Now here was a sight for sore eyes. Little dragon spins at his name to a voice he hasn’t heard in far too long. It was hard going from seeing his family each and every day during the war, to only once every few weeks afterwards, to only communicating through letters—if that. It had, unfortunately, been many months since he last wrote to his Auntie Hinoka, and so her sudden appearance certainly eased the longing in his heart. 

“Well, hello, Hajime!” Kana coos, gloved hands reaching up to eagerly pet the snoot of his aunt’s mount. Hajime had always been friendly with him—but then again, there weren’t many animals that weren’t. Little dragon brushes his fingers back through the pegasus’s mane, a certain fondness in his touch that could only be described as love.

“Hiding my auntie, are you? That’s not very nice! But I’m excited to see you, too, heehee!” 

After thoroughly coddling the horse, Kana finally turns his attention to his aunt, whom he quickly wraps up in a tight hug. Face nestles against her chest, breathing in her scent. One he’s missed for so long. 

“Hi, auntie,” he whispers. “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

#theblueskywarrior #wanna ѕee мy cool dragon powerѕ? (inbox) #softsmile

[amnesiac-pawn]

His handsome face is highlighted by the moon's silver light. Ah, it seems Julia isn't the only one seeking refuge from the ballroom this evening. As she approaches, she feels something strange and difficult to place. Something dark and--

Oh, he's spotted her. Julia curtsies politely before him. Hoping she isn't intruding too much.

"Is it okay if I sit here too? The festivities are getting a little too intense for me," she turns back, looking towards the ballroom with a fond but exasperated smile. It's much quieter outside, gentler and peaceful. "Oh, as long as I'm not intruding, of course! If you'd prefer to be alone I can find somewhere else."

The cool nighttime air called the mage’s name. At least for a moment, he needed reprieve; it was unclear just how much longer he could handle the hustle and bustle of the ball before his mood turned dour and the night ended early. For the moment, no one else disturbed him; it was just him, the cool stone bench under him, and the moon’s light casting his skin in silver and white. 

Clicking footsteps draw his eyes open once more. Amber gaze turns over to his fellow classmate, one he had only interacted with once before—she fell asleep against him in the middle of a seminar, he remembers well. Now, he takes in her at her best, all fine fabrics and expensive jewels decorating her body; the way her hair almost seemed to glow in the moonlight put her on par with any goddess he had ever heard of. 

“Nah, I get it. The ball’s kinda a lot for me, too. Come, sit,” he pats the spot beside him, voice low and soft as if trying not to break a spell. Morgan stares a moment longer before turning his gaze back to the sky; the stars shined more than usual.

“... You look beautiful,” he whispers, barely loud enough for himself to hear. “Like starlight itself.”

#nagargent #𝐈 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰! (inbox) #toaball2022 #they #softsmile

[shimuberin]

[RUFFLE] - sender ruffles receiver's hair.

“What- you?!” 

The Radiant Hero had reached out to ruffle her hair, like she was a child and not an Empress (and at one point, his employer). Like he didn’t understand that despite her status as a student, once they stepped off the monastery grounds, she would return to being an Empress. She whirls around, fiery eyes locking on Ike’s face to glare directly into his eyes. 

“What was that for?” Her voice is sharp, like she’s practiced, but maybe too shrill for her liking. Her hands reach up to settle her hair back over her headband, struggling their way around baggy sleeves. “I don’t see how it’s relevant to the task ahead of us.” She shakes her head a final time to settle her hair back down, and crosses her arms. “Don’t do that again.” 

#ofradiances #ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴜꜱ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢᴇʀ! (ic) #ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ ɪꜱ ᴀᴍᴜꜱɪɴɢ (ask) #simple actions meme #ty for sending!!! #ike.... :softsmile:

[fangedjustice]

"I have to be glad to see you here, you know." Altena approaches with a slight tease in her voice. "You picked the wrong house to support." Truthfully, it doesn't matter to her one way or the other. She has other f........olks that she knows in other houses. It's a mock battle, after all.

There is something that makes her wonder. A curiosity that she doesn't really want to ignore. "I was surprised to see you signed up to fight against us though. I don't want to have to face down either of my brothers again in a battle. Even if it is just for fun."

Lloyd chuckles at Altena's teasing jab, carefully rolling his shoulder as he tested to see how well he'd taken to the healing. It had been a well aimed shot, but there was only some residual aching instead of any acute pain. Never a fun experience to have an arrow cut out of you.

"Ah, the cruelty of organized war games," he chuffed, "Seems there was a great deal of house pride this year. Not that there wasn't last time I took part, but there was a lot of excitement."

"Perhaps next year, you can way me to your side."

She didn't look too roughed up, and a cursory observation eases any of his concerns at seeing her in the med tents. Altena was strong and hardly in need of someone looking out for her, but Lloyd couldn't help wanting to do so. They were friends -- comrades, at the very least after their experience together -- and it was in his nature to keep an eye on those he cared for.

"Ah, I can understand your viewpoint," he mused, letting the joking air fade away into more serious talk. It was a valid question, especially since she had experience in going through the terrible situation of having to face off against family.

"I can't...say if it makes any logical sense, but we've tested each other's skills since we were children. Linus has tried to outdo me since he was a boy, and he's yet to grasp a concise win against me." His record was impeccable, and he could feel some smug pride at that. It was his right as an older brother, after all. "It's something we both enjoy, not holding back and pushing each other to do better."

"I promise you, Altena, in a serious conflict, if I ever found myself crossing blades with Linus, I wouldn't hesitate to let him kill me."

Lloyd would rather die than bring any harm to his siblings by his own hand.

#toaboel2024 #[lmao my ass is so late with these im so sorry sobs] #[lloyd oblivious to how this sounds: oh yeah i'd let my siblings kill me don't worry] #[but yeah like :softsmile: we know lloyd canonically would do this] #[it will forever cheese me that lloyd refuses to attack nino i love this detail so fucking much]

[fluxrspar]

🌟 “Oh, aren’t you a cute one... I’ve never seen a cat with such golden fur before.” Bending down, Alear reaches to give it a few pets...

alear is a good person, selena thinks. (or rather, she is very confident of this, but for the sake of narration,)

purr,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

#[ asks ]: ‘ i shall do my best. ’ #TOAaprilfools #[ support ]: m!alear #alyration #[ alear :softsmile: ]