#[ semperiuvare ]
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a kiss on the brow //platonic, naturally
He feels small.
It isn't unusual for Chad to feel this way; He's slight in stature, young of age, insignificant in standing, enough so that even just being in Garreg Mach makes him feel small in the midst of towering hallways and echoing footsteps. It's easy to get lost as an insignificant sliver. It's better this way, even as the world looms large, cold, empty. Let it.
But here, standing before all that burned him with it and left him hollow, before all that marked a time where not everything was lost, he freezes, deer in the headlights. He is once again a child, and he feels so, so small. He feels like the world could scoop him up in its hands again and he wouldn't even care. He feels like those hands will be warm, like they will protect him for once. Father is here, Father is sweeping him into his arms, Father is sweeping his shaking frame into his arms (since when was he shaking), Father is holding him close and pressing his lips to his forehead and letting him nestle closer still.
And Chad is but a little thing in the light of it, no fangs, no claws, no fury, simply loved.
A hiccough. A whine. Does he sound like that? Unbidden, his face presses into the junction between neck and shoulder, nosing for warmth, a pulse, and clings.
"F-ather," he sobs, worn-thin and breaking, his pieces in another's hands, trusted, loved. "'m'sorry, m'sorry..."
#;answered#semperiuvare#:crunchy: not canon. but i need them to have like 1 (one) moment of catharsis before they go back to being a brat
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[ Sparkling Water ] - Fresh spring water that has been magically carbonated. Served with a squeeze of lime or a dash of one of the many fruit syrups available at the bartenderâs disposal.
Oh, so he was alive. There is a part of him glad at this knowledge, and another part of him that was concerned that he had to be worried in the first place.
âUm⊠Lord Hector!â Oh, Saint Elimine, what if he didnât remember? What if nothing happened? Lucius flounders for a cover, and ends with an offering of a drink and a question: âW-Would you be willing to swap tokens?â
"Oh! Uh..." It's the man of the cloth Hector suspected Serra sometimes stole looks at, probably that she might find grounds for some manner of raise or bonus in her work.
He takes the drink, though he doesn't take a sip immediately. Instead, he regards it with mild... curiosity, let's call it. Definitely not suspicion. (Is it sweet? He hopes it's not too sweet.)
Thankfully, in the short interim, his brain supplies a name to the face.
"Thanks, Lucius. And hey, sure thing." Hector sets the drink down - a trial for future him to deal with, maybe - and fishes for a pair of bells from his brooch. "This should do, yeah?"
It's odd, though. He doesn't remember the monk ever being particularly loud or outspoken by any means but...
"Say... Were you always this fidgety?" Brow raises. "You doing all right?"
#semperiuvare#toaball2024#this autotagged as toaboel2023 (?) and like#sure#on brand innit. let's fight ig. bc tumblr said so.
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I'm used to experiencing those who hide thorns within their kind words. It is one of the few things that I question my capability to use correctly myself, but I have seen others use it enough to recognizeâŠsome the common tells. But only some.
At first, I had thought him the same - but now, I get the impression that he is not like this. Even in a game where it was easy to take advantage of another, his words were genuine. I'm sure of this.
Therefore, I need to converse more with him. If I can recognize when someone is truthful, then it may prove useful when someone is trying to deceive me..
#semperiuvare#journal ask prompt#niamh so ??? at genuine kindness still#but the ooc me is like aww friends
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* a kiss on top of a band-aid, to make it feel better
â°â†STARTER PROMPTS : Chaste Kisses (still accepting!)
"It's ok...! I'm alright, really!!" Nino tries to avoid fidgeting around the bandages Lucius' careful fingers were winding around her forearm, more out of the discomfort of scrutiny than real pain.
"It doesn't actually hurt that much," she tries to convince the other, "It gets better in no time, and I'm used to stuff like this, from when I was inâ" Nino breaks off, swallowing the rest of her words with a sigh. She'd only just joined Eliwood and Lyn and the others not too long ago, and she has to remind herself to avoid talking about her life before.
They weren't on the same side of the battlefield, anymore.
The press of gentle lips against the bandage surprises her from her thoughts, and â for a moment, she remembers Lloyd's hands, more calloused than Lucius' but no less gentle when it comes to her. Nino ducks her head, the wistful rush of melancholy welling in her eyes. "Thanks..." she says softly, looking down at the monk's careful handiwork, distorted as it is through the haze of tears. Hopefully, he'll just think it's from the pain of injury, despite her earlier protests.
Everywhere, there's people who are willing to show all kinds of small kindnesses, just for her. She'll have to keep doing better, to deserve this.
#semperiuvare#it's not easy to just suddenly defect to the enemy army and i imagine nino had kind of a rough time of it in the beginning :'D
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Lucius had chased after his opponent in the first round, but he had certainly not forgotten his last. When he returns, he bows to the other, holding out the candies he had gotten through his ordered betrayal. âUm⊠I hope that my choice made your evening better, but I⊠donât want to take your candies away from you, soâŠ!â
Even if he doesnât want them back, Lucius figured it was worth a try.
A chuckle meets the other monk's trepidation.
Gently,
oh so gently, the monk places a hand on the ones presented him, and curls closed the other's fingers over the proffered candy.
âOh, youâve made my evening much, much better! I give you my word on that. But, ah, as for the candies⊠In truth, I am not particularly fond of sweets. Perhaps some of the other less fortunate participants might better enjoy such treatsâŠ?â
Itâs Azamaâs turn to bow.
âI do thank you though, from the bottom of my heart. And, know you are no villain for indulging my selfish request! Is it really a betrayal, after all, if Iâm the one who requested it in the first place?â
Ah, well⊠It wonât fix the earlier remainder of the evening, but at least heâll sleep lighter tonight, he figures.Â
(Hah! Whoâs he kidding. Heâs always apt to sleep like a baby!)
â⊠I hope to see you again, my good friend! Over tea, perhaps~? Take care now~!â And with a wink, and a spring in his step no less, he takes his leave.
#semperiuvare#toawitchsaccord#guess who looked in her inbox and realized i did an oops again#wehhhh#ty for sending!!
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[ comfort ] sender tries to comfort receiver //hope im doing this right,,
Despite of all his effort, Alcryst still occasionally finds himself in one of his darker moods. A bad day compounds on a fresh wave of homesickness, forcing him to retreat into the student lounge in between shifts. Itâs still cold enough that no one questions why Alcryst ignites the fireplace or why he stares into the flames so intently.Â
Wood glows and cracks as the fire advances. It will claim new territory, spewing white smoke and soot while it destroys the very foundation it was built upon. That line made a strong impression on Alcryst when he first read it in one of his books. Destruction is not to be feared but made into a foundation for growth, if not for yourself then for others. Right now, crumbling to ash and being scattered to the wind doesnât sound so bad.Â
âŠ
âHuh?â He heard people leaving, but he didnât realize there was someone new until they cast a shadow over him, offering a kind word and a handkerchief. Alcryst blinks and notices tears beginning to spring.âTh-Thank you.â Embarrassed, Alcryst hastily turns his head away as he dabs at the corners of his eyes. Surely he wasnât crying all this time? Divines, how embarrassing. âIâll be alright,â Alcryst answers. "Thank you..."
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[PAINTED SKIES] - our muses relax in/by the water and watch the sun set
He finds her sitting alone, as the sun approaches the horizon. He does not know her- he does not need to, but such moments are often better shared, even if with a stranger. Still, he remains quiet as he takes a seat beside her.
âIt is beautiful, isnât it?â
She's surprised when someone joins her. The day is ending and most others have migrated away from the beach. There are so many places other than right next to her for a stranger to sit. But she finds herself, somehow, not minding. The man that's joined her gives off a peaceful, serene presence and she doesn't move to shoo him away.
"It is," she agrees simply. The endless horizon of the ocean is not the mountains of her beloved Thracia but the act of watching the sun's last rays set still brings an ache for her home to her heart. She doesn't know if allowing someone else to watch it with her eases any of that longing but she doesn't think it hurts either.
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baklava - does your muse believe in true love? soulmates?
// not really. soulmates and true love is reserved for stuff like fairytales, and fairytales always made things like true love's kiss insanely contrived. how do you truly love someone you've never talked to before, someone you've never met? how is it true love if you can't even get the other to look at you? if true love is so powerful, why did the girl dissolve into foam at the end?
// it's that kind of thing. a scripted madness. an unhinged impulse that fails even to make you good or the people around you happy. he's more inclined to call it having a screw loose. all it looks like it does is invite ruination or shallow happiness and inevitable loss.
// love needs to remain in reason. an unwavering, loyal, mutual love that is worked on forever is the closest to true anyone can get. it needs maintenance. you cant just fall in love and declare it as true in its essence. so true love? in the forms he knows of it, it's bullshit.
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âOhâŠâ Lucius has never seen the one who sits across from him before, either through his own negligence or her own preference, which makes their first interaction a rather strange one, it appeared. âHello, I am Lucius. It appears weâve been paired for this event!â
His choice had already been made, so he feels no sense of wariness that one might find searching for the correct answer. It will only take a moment to write it down, of course. He smiles, clasping his hands together. âIâm⊠not quite sure what the purpose of secrecy is for something like this, so I will tell you outright: no matter what you choose, I will ally with you.â
This stranger was going to ally with her?
A game like this was nothing like what she knew from her typical bouts on the battlefield. It seemed straightforward and easy enough - yet how easy the game presents itself gives Niamh pause. Was it correct to believe in what the stranger says?
Was he the sort to hide his intentions behind a smile?
She supposes there is only one way to understand his intentions. "...if that is what you claim, then I will act accordingly in return."
Whether she intends to actually ally or not...given her stern expression, its difficult to determine her feelings on the matter. At the least, she doesn't appear hostile, and Niamh is making no actions to force his hand.
She's just...not making any attempts to make this any less awkward. And it certainly doesn't help that she doesn't provide her name in turn. Was she that guarded, or did she just forget?
#semperiuvare#hands u a reply thank you for patience!!!!!!!!#edit for tags in that im gonna nap soon so i'll be sending my ballot we SHALL SEE THE RESULTS soon#toawitchsaccord
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[ Say 'Fromage'! ] - The alumna is already in town with her Photo-Artifex replica and, thanks to many of you, she's done with her testing much earlier than anticipated! She promises a one-of-a-kind keepsake in the form of 'photos' ranging from serious to silly, a variety of props to choose from included. If you're feeling particularly daring, maybe you'll even try out the artifex-box?
To be honest, Lucius doesnât quite understand the way the box works, but with the promise of something he could hold onto for years to come, that would hold a moment upon a piece of paper- he was sold. There were many things he wished for, but nothing more than something to remember others by.Â
He wouldnât forget, but there was something nice about the reminder of pleasant times. So with a nervousness characteristic to his requests of others- though not of his requests to Raven prior, he searches for his brother in the crowd.
âRaven!â The moment he is spotted, Lucius calls out his name and carefully makes his way through the crowd. âThere is something called a Photo-Artifex box over there- it is said that it can make a keepsake in our image. Could we give it a try?â
While their brooches still displayed the exchanged feathers, black upon white, and white upon black.
Raven didn't let Lucius too far out of his sight - it was easier, he thought, when they were separated merely by meters and not thousands of miles, riven by heartbreak and the betrayal of both hearts unable to meet in the middle.
The wounds would not so easily heal - though, he supposed, they might mend in time with the wounds of his body, the soreness of his ribs, the bruised flesh of his limbs. Uncertain of the pain, though; he knew that this pain was a duller blade, and he knew that he was susceptible to carrying that pain with him.
But, if he could help it, Raven would do what he could to alleviate that pain in Lucius.
He met his brother halfway, or slightly more, taking the longer, firmer strides, and narrowed his eyes at the artifex-box.
It was too good to be true, wasn't it? The promise of having something tangible to hold in his hands, to be able to behold at any moment that he wanted the face of someone dear...
A flicker of heat, flames licking the inside of his mind for a moment, before he shook his head.
"Ah...we can...try, yes." A cant of his head, brushing aside the curtain for Lucius to enter, glancing warily about the box. It was instinct, for a moment, that drew him straight-backed into the box before he realized that this was the posture his father's portraits had always taken: one arm behind his back, the other hand on his mother's shoulder.
He cleared his throat, attempted to force himself to relax, and he worked his jaw for a moment before; "Ah. Would...here."
The offer truncated verbally, but Raven extended his arm - to link with Lucius's, as they had before, when they were young.
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LET'S KEEP PLAYING, @semperiuvare!
   SHE WATCHES WITH THE ANTICIPATION OF A YOUNG CHILD. kinu was pretty proud of herself. tea really wasn't something that she liked very much. it was all just boiled water and leaves, though she knows she likes the smell of it. this oneâsmelled as interesting as the stranger implies and she giggles with glee. "isn't it yummy?" she smiles, watching with wide eyes. "i couldn't decide on which tea because there were so many options, so i put all of them in!"
   "you like it, right? don't waste it! i can get more water!"
EXCUSE ME, TEA-SE.
#semperiuvare#toaball2024#( ` ⌠ăâ MINI Š EXCUSE MEž TEA SE. )#there's just so many teas in there .......#haha hope it's ok i replied but no pressure!!!!!#just thought your ask reply set up for us to continue a little bit :')
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A birthday memory
see also: @justicefanged: "10. A disappointing memory!!!!!!"
today is november sixteenth. it is your tenth birthday.
your teacherâa nice young lady, tall, with brown hairâhas gotten you a box of cookies as your present. they are coffee biscuitsâa rare kind not seen within your deeprealm. you know she must have gone far to get them, and you are sure to tell her thank you when you receive them.Â
some of the other house caretakers bring you things, too. the knight captain of the house's guard gives you a brand new toy sword. the material is wood, but the hilt is wrapped in iron and is cool to the touch. it makes you feel powerful, and he even humors you with a play spar out in the garden. you trip and fall on your rear, but you do not cry, because you are a big boy now. maybe nine year olds cried, but not youâthe big one zero. the knight captain compliments you on your bravery, and you feel a little better.
the chief maid gifts you with a new tea set. she says that you have been very good about taking care of your old one, so she felt you deserved a real set to take care of. the set is made of porcelain and boasts a simple floral design. you feel like a proper butler-in-training with such a tea set and beg the maid to let you try it out with afternoon tea. chuckling, she obliges, and later you will serve your first cup of earl grey without spilling a single drop.
the chef offers to make you your favorite snack, but you decline and instead ask if you can learn how to make it yourself. you believe you are old enough now, being ten and all. the chef agrees with a chuckle and gives you an apron that is just your size, and you wonder whether this was secretly the plan all along. you do your best to be useful around the kitchen, and the chef teaches you her secret recipe for profiteroles that you will never, ever forget.
throughout the day, when you have free time, you seat yourself near the front door, waiting. all of these presents are nice, but you are expecting guests. you wonder when your father and mother will get here.Â
your caretakers all seem uneasy and try to pull you away from the foyer. the captain challenges you to another spar, but you decline; you would like to keep your tea pouring arm strong enough to serve your parents when they arrive. the maid asks if you would like to practice pouring the tea to ensure perfection, but you tell her that you are certain you will do just fine. the chef suggests putting together some finger foods to serve with your tea, but you assure her that the profiteroles you made will be enough.
finally, the teacher, looking the most defeated of all, steps forward. she is holding a letter in her hand, and your heart sinks. this has happened enough times for you to know what this means, but you open your palm to receive the note regardless. you want to be absolutely certain.
âthis came in the mail before we woke you,â the maid adds as you read the letter. âwe didnât want to tell you before youâd had a chance to have your birthday.â
you tune her out. you tune everything out. the letter, penned in your fatherâs impeccable handwriting, tells you everything you feared, but you canât stop reading it like youâve done all the others before it.
âdwyer,
wartime rages strong, my son. your mother and i wish with every ounce of our beings that we could be there with you for your tenth birthday, but hoshidan forces have caught us by surprise and have forced us to regroup.
this is a horrible letter for a mother and father to have to write to their boy, but there is little that can be done. not until we have driven hoshidoâs forces back and can afford time to see you. i swear to you, it shall be the first thing we do as soon as we are able.
in the meantime, we have sent you a few packets of your favorite coffee. it is a pitiful gift, i knowâbut we will bring you something much nicer when we can come see you. please stay strong, dear boy. we will keep you in our thoughts every minute of every day until next we can visit.
all our love,
mother & fatherâ
you stare at the note silently, having finished reading it ages ago. you donât cry; only nine year olds do that. you are strong.
after an unsettlingly long period of quiet, you get up from your chair, citing a sudden bout of unwellness. nobody protests, but there is a hanging disquiet in the house that has suddenly become too large for you.
you walk past the empty classroom, down the empty hall, and up the empty staircase. you pass the empty bathroom and drag yourself into your empty room, crawling into bed (where you should have stayed, now that you think about it). you hug your teddy that was given to you by your parents for your fourth birthday and notice there is a ripped seam that will need to be fixed⊠tomorrow.
the bear smells faintly of the coffee grounds your father sends you each year when he cannot be with you. you told him that this flavor was your favorite, but really you cannot stand the taste of coffee in general. in time you will, but for now you only keep it because it is, in truth, his favorite, and the smell tricks you into believing he is there in your room, quietly wishing you your happy birthdays while your mother draws the curtains. your teddy, ever faithful, gives you the sweetest dreams when the disappointment of reality crushes you more than you are willing to stand. the smell is fading, but luckily you have more.
you are dreadfully tired, however, and cannot get out of bed to retrieve the grounds, or any of your other gifts. you will go get them later, you think. for now, you just want to take a nap.
hopefully, in your dreams, your father will be at the door with a gift in hand. perhaps it will be that chess set you wanted, and perhaps he will teach you how to play. you hope your mother will be there and she will tell you how big you have grown, but that you are still her little dwyer and that she will always see you as her baby. you want her to pick you up and spin you around, and then your father will come and give the both of you one of his famously awkward yet meaningful hugs.
you hug your teddy closer and shut your eyes tighter.
such a dream would be the nicest birthday present of all.
#[ ic ]#[ ask memes ]#[ answered ]#[ semperiuvare ]#[ justicefanged ]#[ ooc: gee sure is sad how deeprealms work huh ]
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[ wipe ] sender wipes away receiver's tears
⊠angst prompts.
"I'm okay!" he declares, even as it stings and aches â A nasty fall, a twisted ankle, a skinned knee with dirt at the edges. It really doesn't hurt, he maintains, even as he hobbles over to Father to prove he's really fine.
He doesn't even realise he's crying until Father bends down to wipe the tears from his cheeks, but the tracks down his skin suddenly feel like molten flame. His sight blurs as he rubs his nose with a thumb but stubbornly refuses to wipe at his eyes â He's not crying, he's not crying.
"I-It doesn't hurt at all." he hiccoughs, definitely crying. Father's blue eyes are still all soft as he looks at Chad though, and the boy's face crumples up â
No, no, he can't cry! He's a big boy, isn't he? Oh, he's making Father worry â Oh, he's not gonna be able to sprint to the market and back as fast for a week at least. His foot hurts, it really hurts.
But, oh, Father's hands are so careful and gentle and warm. He's going to have to bring out the stinging cleaning stuff and the bandages just for him...
A sniffle. An ugly, choked swallow. Torn between comfort and embarrassment, Chad lurches forwards to cling to Lucius like a lifeline, hiding his sobs in his shoulder.
"Not one bit, not one bit...!!"
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once again, there comes a signal that it is time to change tables once more. the last round is about to begin.
12PM. EST FEB 18 - 11:59PM FEB 19 ROUND THREE.
knoll and hubert help people along, assisting stragglers with finding their seats.
"this time, we will be testing the efficacy of questions that, in prior rounds, resulted in mutual approval," knoll says. "you will not be assigned a question you got before, but rather, one that elicited a good response from someone else. please do your best with these topics."
"be sure not to disappoint us," hubert adds.
sothis (@sublimeflowoftime) & zephia (@ruinakete) topic: how do you connect with others on an interpersonal level?
seliph (@virtuoustyrfing) & sakura (@gentlenekomata) topic: which food brings you the most joy?
minerva (@reddragonprincess) & freyja (@foreversnightmare)Â topic: which animal you most relate to?
linhardt (@pridelessdaydreamer) & denning (@beholdenning) topic: favorite flower
poe (@loveevangelist) & ike (@ofradiances)Â topic: how would you save your current conversation partner if you were in a sandpit together, getting slowly pulled down into the abyss? or would you prioritize yourself?
saizo (@saizov) & lâarachel (@aglaean) topic: music and dancing
dwyer (@apathynoir) & mark (@allyphase) topic: discuss your hometown.
leif (@diadic) & petra (@calderosea) topic: preferred ways to pass the time.
erk (@adalrikr) & lucius (@semperiuvare) topic: what hobbies do you partake in?
selena (FE8) (@fluxrspar) & elffin (@moriddyn) topic: assuming you do not die within the coming months, what are your plans for the future?
nils (@carmennivis) & faye (@fiberflxwer) topic: how many pets you would be willing to adopt, assuming you had the time and space?
hector (@braveryinblue) & eitri (@grimkkr) topic: are morals universal?
raven (@peerlessscowl) & elincia (@amitieos) topic: local sights you enjoy.
xander (@chevaleri) & laslow (@laslow) topic: childhood aspirations/goals compared to current ones.
(per usual, if you don't see your muse's name, check the other half of this post!)
#toalovehypothesis2024#âș .  â â  out  of character  â
#dropping this a little early because i have things to do todayyy :pray: forgiveme
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Retreat.
Lucius mentions it so gently, so kindly, as if he were the one offering up a mercy instead of being forced on the defensive by Andreiâs attacks. Somehow, that hurts, to know that he is being offered a way out that he could never have taken.
(How often had a better choice been within reach, and he had refused it? If he had only reconsideredâ)
No. Itâs far, far too late now. Andrei lets out a cold laugh, allowing anger and cruelty to take over.
âWhen I have you exactly where I want you? Donât be ridiculous!â
(It soothes the pain, somewhat.)
andrei attacks (8): 1.5 damage! lucius hp: 2/5
His next attack is less controlled, missing the clasp by several more inches, landing against the otherâs shoulder. He realizes his hand has the bow in a tight, trembling grip, and loosens it.
âFight, until one of us has fallen,â he says, âNothing else will put an end to this!â
As much as he had ever wished otherwise, itâs an impossibility now.
if music be the food of love
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Night does not fall because it never left. The stars are trapped in place and the moon will offer no guidance if asked. A procession of spirits arrives outside the monastery's gates to escort you to what was not long ago an abandoned town left to ruin and rot, recently overrun with some new, decaying faces.
The most observant among you may soon realize that despite their frightful appearances, the ghosts and skeletons occupying the town will only assail those who draw too close to the hordes of candy they guard.
A tall white shadow looms on the highest building, humming a melody that is likely to be less familiar than the voice itself considering the host makes no effort to alter her inflection and pitch.
"Fufufu..." she murmurs, seeing that some of you have grown restless. "I am Nihil. You have been chosen to participate in a game."
đŹ Candy Tracker đŹ
Ewan (@eagerfutureflame) vs Azama (@carefreemonk) Hilda (@delicatevalentine) vs Sonya (@excalibris) Andrei (@ulircursed) vs Ephidel (@artificidel) Azelle (@fjalarspark) vs Caspar @berglietz Lukas (@redmessenger) vs Forsyth (@viridescent-lance) Lucius (@semperiuvare) vs Niamh (@boundlesschaos) Grima (@fellincantation) vs Felicia (@maeido) Lilian (@divinecrest) vs Emma & Miranda (@shiningfalcon & @anruraiocht) Corrin (M) (@duskofendflame) vs Jakob (@indevouement) Knoll (@pryings) vs Caeda (@arcaeda) Selena (FE8) (@fluxrspar) vs Eldigan (@lionheartsoath) Sigurd (@bxldrsdraumar) vs Skrimir (@galliason) Leif (@diadic) vs Sylvain (@gauldheri)
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