#〳◌ ⁀ « hands holding a heart of gold » ( INBOX. )

[duskroine]

"Ophelia!" Concern is carried in every line of Mitama's face as she knocks on the door to her dear friend's room. After her conversation with Rhajat, there had been enough on Mitama's mind that the passing remark regarding Ophelia's wellbeing had slipped her mind. It was only later when she did not see the boisterous woman in the dinning hall that evening did Rhajat's not-apology come roaring back to the forefront of her mind.

(She knew Rhajat enough to know that nothing that befell Ophelia would be permanent or fatal but. She also knew Rhajat well enough to know that some worry was warranted.)

"Rhajat mentioned an unfortunate encounter to me." Mitama tells her through the door. She shifts the bowl in her hands slightly so that the heat does not linger too long in a single spot. "Might you open the door so that I can assure myself she did not disembowel you for a ritual of some kind. I brought you soup."

          it’s with a long but soft that groan that ophelia exhales as the first knock echoes off the door.  the strength to lift herself off her mattress is... gone.  as if it never existed in the first place; as if she, the heroine of obnoxious exclamations and acts of honor, never experienced even the slightest inch of her former power.

          though she does, at least, manage to open her eyes at the sound of her name in the air, albeit resonating a bit muffled from behind the door.  ophelia blinks, slowly, attempting to recognize the voice through the mild drowsiness sticking to her mind.  though it only takes a minute for her to fully realize it; pushing the blanket off of her and sitting up slowly.

          rhajat was cruel!  so unfairly mean!  and all for a joke in terms of attempting a hand at mitama’s heart... who wouldn’t?  though, the reflection of the diviner’s wrath does cause a bit of confusion at the presence at her door.  mitama, she already knew, but hadn’t rhajat said that the shrine maiden was ‘ somewhere far far away ’ and ‘ she wouldn’t be able to save her now ’?

          the moment ophelia stands is the moment that the strength to stay standing immediately leaves her body.  fortunately, she manages to stumble towards the door and lean against it before her knees give out beneath her.  oh, rhajat was so mean for this!  how can ophelia be her grand bubbly self if that self didn’t have an ounce of energy in her?!  and not to mention this awful cold... no matter the short limit of time that the curse had on her.

          she laughs, the chirp of her voice interrupted by a slight cough and she opens the door   —   an action that takes quite too long for her liking.   “   it’s cool, ’m here.   ”   ophelia keeps the door open for mitama to come in, though she makes no move to lift herself from where she leans against the frame.   “   rhajat was kind enough to tell you, good.   ”   the spaces between her phrases drags for a beat too long; her voice even takes to a slightly lower tone!  nothing like her usual flare!

          (   part of her wishes that, when rhajat came tomorrow to lift the curse, she’d be able to challenge the diviner to a battle in an act of revenge but even she knows that some battles are already a lost cause.

          will ophelia still do it?  hell yeah she will!  to let rhajat live freely without consequence would be unfit of the Chosen One’s morals.   )

          “   i would greet you properly but... i can’t think of any big words right now.   ”   ophelia sighs, a sound that immediately shifts into a yawn.   “   mm, you wouldn’t mind me taking a nap, right?  good... good,   ”

          and with that she pulls herself off the frame, stumbles over to her bed, and falls face first onto the mattress.  she quickly curls up and pulls the blanket, angled wrong, back over her.  but before complete silence takes the room, ophelia’s hand peeks from beneath the blanket to point at the surprisingly cleaned off and empty dresser top near the side of her bed.

          “   the soup can go there.  good night,   ”

[duskroine]

[ SACRIFICE ]:     knowing that the circumstances only allow one of them to survive, the sender sacrifices their life in order to guarantee the receiver’s survival and safety.

settling dust   (   cw; death?   )

          ophelia’s never been scared of death, almost accepting of it, as fate would have proposed their fall long ago.  but now, as mitama speaks to them, a voice silent but unwavering, even with the thundering of footsteps behind them, ophelia cannot see past the darkened spots scattered over their vision.  it’s impossible to hear anything above the chaos that follows them; a game of cat and mouse, fate ever so unforgiving.

          they wonder, what could have been done to stop this?  not staying behind with mitama to scout the village?  would the innocents have been bested instantly against the horde of faceless?

          the world sways as ophelia’s body hits the ground, though any moment of rest that they hoped to gain is immediately halted by them being pulled back to their feet.  where their knees buckle once more and an arm comes around their waist.  their name   —   desperate, breathy, hurt   —   rings through their ears and maybe it’s that moment, the realization of the fate that the two have been given, that causes ophelia to break into a sob.  incoherency separating what they believe are to be wishes and cries of ‘ i don’t want to die ’ slipping from their lips.

          but despite their wish, despite the touch of bark against their back as mitama lowers them both to a kneel, they continue to cling onto the shrine maiden.   “   l-leave me, i... i’m slowing you down.  mitama, please,   ”

          though the army knows of their location, the exact land of where the village lies, it will be all too late with the pace they’ve been running at.  ophelia cannot stop the sob that falls when mitama refuses, holding a hand against the torn fabric of their mage robe.  there is a glow of warmth but it loses its grace the second they attempt to lean into it.

          it’s too easy to pry ophelia’s hands from mitama’s torn shirt; with every movement, mitama speaks, but the timbre of her voice is faint, light, ophelia can’t hear anything but a slight buzz underneath the crashing far behind them.  their hands close around something thin, paper - like.  ophelia's vision threatens to leave them in the dark when they attempt to stand up as mitama does.

          “   i... sorry.  i’m sorry, mitama, i...   ”   exhaustion tempts to cradle them; mitama shakes her head.  but whatever she says, an apology or praise or even a goodbye, falls on deaf ears.

          when the strength leaves them completely, they decide that it was fate’s doing.  making them helpless to watch mitama run out of their hiding spot behind the space of two close trees and into the open yet thin clearing far away.  it’s then that ophelia hears her voice.  not the words, but by the pitch, the expression she wears, ophelia knows it as a call.  a shout of direction.  but then... that could only mean....

          their tongue lies numb, almost mockingly, in ophelia’s mouth.  unable to stop nor cry out as the pattern of crashing footsteps changes pace; mitama, the target of the chase.  but the gaze they share with her is fleeting   —   her retreating footsteps are drowned out as fatigue closes ophelia’s eyes.

          (   when they awaken, it is with a rush of flailing arms and a deep, sudden flash of pain that doubles them over into rhajat’s arms.  a string of words falls from their lips, all incoherent, all desperate, all unable to be heard besides the constant mutter of mitama’s name.  but an attempt to run out the tent and search for the shrine maiden’s own is lost to the stutter of rhajat’s voice.  ophelia sits on the futon, watching as the sole audience of the diviner’s trembling shoulders and thumb that lies dangerously trapped between her teeth.

          an apology is given towards the shrine maiden’s disappearance, but ophelia has yet to decide whether or not it is she who should be forgiven.  has fate truly... lost its confidence in its best child warrior?   )

[duskroine]

💭 ((I Cannot remember if I sent you one before tbh))

hear my thoughts, for i am now you!

          “   the volcano erupts / pink billows of smoke eager to relieve / your time is now up, dear fiend!!   ”   ophelia frowns, shaking her head as she lowers the staff   —   borrowed from a fellow classmate of whom she kindly mixed up a half lie, half truth to become in complete possession of it.  either way, the staff is temporary for the both of them, but she needs it more!  the art of becoming another in the life of acting is... phenomenal!  something that she finds very difficult to do at this hour of day.  even dressing up the part took more time than she’d like to admit.

          wheaten blond curls are now brushed straighter   —   something that also took much struggle   —   and parted down the middle, pulled over her shoulders by thick bands.  finding a similar white ribbon the same length as mitama’s was a quest on its own, but no matter how much she tried, ophelia just couldn’t tie it the way mitama did hers!  and if she asked the shrine maiden for help?  oh no, an absolute no.  it would give away her secret!  she’d die from embarrassment   (   she’s already failed an impress of mitama once before, but to do it again...   )

          the dress she wears is also unfamiliar and nothing alike mitama’s but it was all she could find at the moment.  and it’s enough!

          “   five, ten, six.  no, wait.  five, ten, five?   ”   ophelia pauses, staring off into the empty space in front of her as her mind tries to pull up a memory of mitama speaking a haiku during their times together.  no, it can’t be ten, that’s too long.  six?  seven?  oh, seven!

          she clears her throat and quickly gets back into position; setting her staff down and sitting beside it with her back leaned against the tree behind her.  a quick check of her props; a notepad open with scribbles across the parchment, a bag of her usual attire and equipment, and a pen.  wait, where’s the... never mind, it’s right there.  ok, and SCENE!

          ophelia closes her eyes and allows herself to relax, thinking only of the steady rise and fall of her chest.  numbers count down within her head and once zero is reached, she clicks her tongue.   “   unfortunate once more / the volcano is displeased—   ”   her eyes open and a glare settles over her face.   “   — / the stars need a sacrifice!   ”   but any second thought of recounting her syllables and starting another scene immediately disappear at sight of a familiar face staring down at her.  ophelia’s expression of composure and faked irritation make way for something more bashful, more embarrassed.

          she fails to realize that the pen has snapped in her grip until a gaze moves towards it, then back at her.  slowly.  ophelia flushes but does not stutter.   “   mitama!  what a.. gracious surprise, haha.   ”   there is no response.  an unusually resigned silence overtakes the two of them as they stare at each other.  ophelia clears her throat, opening her fist to let the cracked pieces of the pen fall from her hand.

          “   ......twinsies?   ”

[duskroine]

a kiss after one muse has killed for the other :]

kiss, kiss!   (    cw; violence, death   )

          stop.  don’t.  please.

          this power pooling beneath her skin; the sound of kana’s voice rings throughout the destructed remains of the camp.  and it’s that cry, that drum in their head, that forces them to their feet.  body bruised and deemed left to die.  ophelia coughs, swaying on the thinnest of threads keeping her awake.  kana’s nearby.  he’s nearby and he’s scared.  what would their friends think of them if they found kana to be captured, taken away despite the magic they hold.

          the ambush had been predicted by their vision the night before, the heart-wrenching nightmare that left them in gasps and cries.  there had been a lack of color in that dream.  all of her dreams are vivid, bright, beautiful, and yet that one was silver... a beautiful silver, being pulled into spots of black.  but they hadn’t believed the vision.  the first moment of the heroine’s doubt in himself, and look where it’s gotten them.

          ophelia sucks in a breath and steps over a corpse; corrin must have been informed on the camp’s attack.  but where were the healers?  where were they?  kana wasn’t supposed to be here, he wasn’t supposed to come there but he needed ophelia   —   a stupid, childish promise of water wading later when the troops had fallen asleep.

          they can’t feel missiletain’s hum but when they stumble over the corner of a tent’s charred structure, ophelia finds the tome unnecessary.

          “   let go... leave him alone,   ”   the words are uttered, helplessly.  as if the bandits would rather take them instead of the boy with the dragon stone.  one is worth something, the other simply a trophy.

          none of it matters.  nothing matters besides the boy’s voice.  ophelia realizes, now, that they can’t see beneath the blood that has begun to trickle over their right eye.  a stumble, a pace of distance, a breath, a gasp, a promise for revenge.  when the bandit turns, it’s the moment that ophelia lunges at him.  they do not need a tome to command the magic that burns at their hand; untamed and without a lease.  ophelia does not wait for the lightning to crack to life before slamming a hand down against the bandit’s throat.

          (   they forget the sound of kana being released from the grasp underneath the violent hum of a force awakened.   )

          the lightning burns and pushes through whatever flesh it can find, crisp it and let it wither.  let it fall beneath their hand.  when the bandit is dead, ophelia does not realize.  their head is a blur, heavy thoughts filled with nothing but a scream of loyalty.  a shout of retribution.  it’s kana that pulls her away, throwing his weight against her until they both fall.  they’re pushed off the bandit with a gasp and a cough; exhaustion has finally begun to pull at the bit of strength they have.

          kana shivers and ophelia is almost brought to tears at the idea of having frightened the boy   —   her twitching hand is grabbed and his lips press against her forehead.  they’re pulled to sit up but even then, kana doesn’t let them move any farther.  resting against his chest as he kneels at her side, massaging the damaged skin of her fingers and whispering against her head.  and they believe that, without his gratitude and presence, there would have been no reason to get up from the surrounding corpses of some of their allies.

[duskroine]

a gentle kiss to ask forgiveness

(ophelia are you free on sundays? are you- vel was to give a little kissy to an old friend)

kiss, kiss!

          “   absolutely NOT!  if the masked void wishes for your prime crystal to be sucked into the abyss for your foolery then so be it!  gather the same poor feeling of grief sunken into my own chest.   ”   ophelia scoffs, crossing her arms as the prominent sharpness of her glare becomes harder.  she scowls at velouria who, in her own seemingly puppy-kicked way, is pulling at her jacket and pouting.

          tch, as if that would change anything.  velouria had kicked the yirlean sparksetter out of the circle just as ophelia had come back with her chest of crystals.  and if there was anything that ophelia desired the most, was the safety of her items.   (   it was as if velouria was re-enacting shiro’s own kick back in their home country, when another of her crystals had been lost to the void.   )

          ophelia turns her attention away from velouria’s pout, ignoring her many pleas for forgiveness and apologies. her eye twitching as her expression threatens to break way for a smile.  no, she’s strong enough to keep up the act.  it was her precious gem!  the beautiful crystal of gold and grey hues!  how dare she?!

          a hand on her cheek turns her head back to the front and she arches an eyebrow, which is all she has the chance to do before velouria’s lips are on hers.  despite the roughness of the wolfskin’s hands, the kiss is soft, gentle; deceiving in all its rights and ophelia falls for it.  this time, it’s her who wears a pout on her lips.  ophelia allows her head to be tilted upwards and

          her hand presses against velouria’s and ophelia pulls away, face flushed and a weaker frown on her face.   “   you... what is this sorcery?!  you think an affectionate grace of kissing will cause me to forgive you?   ”   when velouria, bluntly and clearly unmoved by the situation, nods, ophelia pauses.  almost shocked although she should be familiar with the other’s edged character.  finally, she clicks her tongue.   “   tch!  fine, i suppose that it may have worked.   ”

          ophelia’s quick to stop velouria from happily running off, grabbing her wrist and putting a hand on her hip.   “   the yirlean sparksetter won’t find itself, my dear friend.  come now!  let’s go search for it and your own gemstone!   ”

[duskroine]

"OpheLIA!"

If ever there was a sound that could shatter glass, this would be it. Little dragon comes barreling down the hallway of the villa, candy bag in hand, not a care in the world that he might be disturbing the other occupants.

"'Felia! 'Felia!" he shrieks, not bothering to slow until he practically tackles the poor girl over. "Look at what I got—I didn't even know I had this one! This lizard lollipop is yellow, just like you!"

Lo and behold, a single yellow candy in the shape of a lizard suddenly appears in front of her face. Lemon flavored, perhaps?

"Mercedes told me to stop eating the candy I bought 'cause we're supposed to be focusing on the mission 'n stuff, but it's downtime right now, so I don't have to worry about the mission. Hey, will you come investigating with me, later?"

He leans in close, grey eyes narrowed into slits. "Like, a secret nighttime investigation. We'll figure out everything we need to know!"

          if it had been any other individual, they would have surely been struck with shock at the sudden screech   —   rocketing off of the villa’s high walls and catching the ears of everyone nearby.  fortunately, OPHELIA DUSK is not your average individual.  the moment she hears the first hint of a yell, she dropped the equipment carelessly and immediately turned around, arms wide and feet squared with space between.  kana crashes against her front and although she almost stumbles, she’s quick to regain her posture and pull the boy into a tight embrace.  while arriving back from the stage set, word had easily spread of her beloved friend’s presence had accompanied them to enbarr as a last minute addition to the group.  a fairly pleasant addition it was!

          while she pouts at the lack of breaks in kana’s voice, not allowing her even a moment of script, she can appreciate the enthusiasm in his actions.  there are a few workers that stare at them   —   more so at the boy in her arms but if they’ve seen her at all these past few days, and they have, then they know of the volume that this interaction will reach within a minute.

          ophelia giggles as kana’s arm moves from in between them and the lizard shaped candy is directly in her sight,   “   oh by the dearest of heavens!   ”   she fakes a gasp, letting kana go and raising her hands over her mouth.   “   such a dazzling golden that delicacy is!  as well as the honor that swells in my heart to see it take after a color i so boldly represent.   ”   one hand moves to her head and it’s the natural wink of her expression that snaps the final tone of her act.  a flick of her bangs upwards before she turns to kana as he continues to marvel at his adventures.

          and, of course, ophelia makes sure to pluck the piece of candy from him and stare at it.  she lets out a small laugh at the mention of mercedes and her attempt at keeping kana focused on the mission.  while she cannot blame him for his desire to venture away from the objective, he cannot act like a child here.  underneath the eyes of an agarthan, there could be no time for messing around.  but.... this would title her a hypocrite.  and no matter if she wanted to see it or not, kana is a child.  he’s a kid and this behavior is expected.   (   if the church brought him along the mission, then surely they must have known of this.  it’d be stupid to bring a kid along and expect them to fill a role so easily.  this is not the war.   )

          she perks up at the idea,   “   a secret quest stricken by the moon’s gaze, you say?   ”   ophelia leans forward, too, and with a smile on her face, she shifts to the side and whispers in his ear.   “   luckily, it seems that i’ve been gifted with the hidden corridors and pathways in the villa’s construction set.   ”   although, taking him there would be too risky   —   just remembering the stupid exchange between her and those two workers... it leaves an embarrassing shiver on her spine.

          “   as the dynamic duo—”   she straightens her posture and flashes another pose, voice a tad bit louder than it should be.   “—there are NO secrets that will burrow in the void where we will never find them!   ”   a pause.  a single beat before ophelia holds the candy in front of kana.   “   as a sign of friendship and brotherhood, we shall raise our sweet, sweet weapons and wish the stars to bid us a grand result to this investigation!   ”

[duskroine]

[  LICK  ]  for  you  muse  to  lick  my  muse

that's a mood, meme

          ophelia’s out of it by the time that the bottle circles the group at least twice.  three times?  she isn’t sure, she must have forgotten.  the game of truth and dare has been moving along for quite some time now, not long enough for her to become affected by the drinks smuggled in earlier   —   just from the last few times they’ve done this, she’s sure that she’s not a lightweight.  so she deems this heaviness to her body and mind as exhaustion.

          her own truth is easy; how many weapons has she broken in this month?  and, of course, she answers with an exaggerated   (   and genuine; but no one can tell this by the click of her pitch, the punctuation of her act   )   gasp, holding a hand to her heart and shaking her head quickly.   “   as if i’d ever break a weapon of... fine, three.  we do not introduce the issue of this being the first week of the month.   ”

          the bottle is passed to her from soleil and ophelia throws out a wild dare to siegbert.  the next round is a blur to her, she finds herself dozing off by the time her name is called out.  but... no one’s looking at her.  all gazes are turned towards mitama, who sits a few spaces away from her in the uneven and horribly formed circle they’ve made.  ophelia arches an eyebrow, at mitama and then at the bottle that’s back in her right hand.

          hasn’t it just made its way to her?  ophelia shrugs and takes a sip, passing it to back to soleil and—

          a hand falls on her shoulder.  ophelia turns to face mitama, blinking up at her from where she now sits to her side.   ���   issue?   ”   she asks, moving so she could face mitama properly.  but she shakes her head and leans forward; a whisper of something along the lines of ‘ a dare ’ falling from her lips.  it should be instinct for her to move back at the advance but her reactions seem to be delayed.  not by...

          she freezes entirely when mitama’s tongue presses against the corner of her lips.  her reation falls a few beats late when mitama licks her.  ophelia flinches, grabbing mitama’s shoulders and pushing her away while laughing.  there’s scattered reactions, really, but someone calls out,   “   the dare was two times!   ”   her laughter slightly dies down, narrowed eyes attempting to find the voice’s owner and yet ophelia remains confused.   (   it sounded like soleil but when the other had been looked at, she seemed as confused as her.  played like a fool, ophelia was.   )

          “   wait, two?!  do i gain the chance of revenge after?   ”   no response.   “   wow, the heroine has been betrayed, thanks.   ”   despite her protest of revenge and retribution, ophelia lets go of mitama’s shoulders and cocks her head to the side; the beginnings of a pout on her face.   “   if you wish to place your tongue upon my face again, you’ll be surely—  MITAMA!!   ”

[duskroine]

|| 31. a kiss on the palm || ; Her hand is small, even more so as he takes it in both of his hands. Thumbs work into her palm, a gentle massage of the muscle there, working through untapped energy that has no doubt pooled in the mage’s blood. His fingertips work up along each digit until he holds her hand open, fingers splayed out elegantly, and he draws her closer. Lips brush against the center of her palm, lingering against her skin. “Do not overwork yourself,” he murmurs, muffled against her hand. “I beg this of you.”

kiss, kiss, find a spot

          the prince finds the heroine when the cleric leaves the infirmary.  when the sky has darkened and there is only the canvas of darkness to be danced upon by the stars.  constellations that she looks at from the infirmary’s window.  ophelia doesn’t move nor flinch when the door opens, her middle finger tracing the dark edges of the new scar on her thigh.  she does not realize that siegbert has joined her on the wide windowsill until her tracing is stopped by his hands on hers.

          ophelia does not express her resentment to the air between them,   “   siegbert,   ”   she mumbles, her voice many moons away from its usual volume.  but the bits of her character still sink into her words, unable to lose the needlessness of them all.   “   the stars shine but they cannot hide the stupidity of my work on the battlefield today.   ”   the sky does not mock her tonight.  in fact, everything is silent.  siegbert does not respond; ophelia continues looking out the window.

          it had been a downfall on her own part.  an attempt to take down a multitude of enemies with only the range of sight she was granted.  an attempt to protect her classmates in a fury of a too optimistic spell.  she had only been knocked unconscious after the battle had cleared, victory in the class’ hands but the lack of energy in her own.  magic tends to take in the act of giving   —   she had simply taken too much, too fast.

          siegbert hums something, most likely acknowledgement to her apology, and she gives a small smile in response.  the expression falters as his thumb presses against her palm, slowly pulling her hand from her leg as their positions shift slightly.  ophelia’s brow twitches.  the work of his fingers on her hand is light, gentle, a generous sense of service to comfort rather than heal.  ophelia lets him massage her hand, thankfully so not the hand covered in bandages.  her head tilts unknowingly as she sighs,   (   happily?  with content?  joy?   )   her back leaning ever so slightly against the window’s side.

          the silence between them is no longer tense.  it’s comforting, now.  the atmosphere that belongs to comrades rather than enemies; friends, if the length was taken as so.  siegbert moves closer, his knees touching hers as his lips make contact with her palm.  ophelia smiles more clearly now.  her fingers twitch at the kiss but she lets out a laugh anyway.

          his murmur is left to the space between his lips and her hand, ophelia hears him no matter the tightness of her throat and the ringing in her ears.  her voice is stuck in her throat for only a moment before her smile softens.  heroine’s cape sways as she moves forward, supporting herself with a hand on the windowsill.  she moves that hand to hold siegbert’s, now, and she presses a light kiss on his knuckles.

          she laughs,   “   i promise to do what is needed of the chosen one.  i cannot promise that what is needed of me will not desire all of my strength but... i can, at least, swear to take care of myself in the process.  as long as you do the same.  that is all i can ask of you, too.   ”

[duskroine]

💔 = Has your muse ever been heartbroken? If so, explain what happened. || 😍 = Does your muse have any crushes? If so, who are they?

we kiss and tell

(   💔 ) HAS YOUR MUSE EVER BEEN HEARTBROKEN? IF SO, EXPLAIN WHAT HAPPENED.

         yes and it occurred when she was younger! in her deeprealm, there was a mage who soon became her friend— she was the quiet kind, where ophelia was the one who was loud for the both of them. of course, ophelia was smitten with her. unfortunately, the girl’s teacher didn’t want her to lose focus of her magic studies so she wasn’t allowed to share personal information with the other kids in the castle; an attempt to keep her from being too close with other people. ophelia only knew her as ‘ bluebird ’. 

          on a night where ophelia had planned to confess her love, the teacher spotted her preparing her speech in her room ( the issue of her being unable to close her door correctly started waaay back then ). as a result, bluebird was immediately taken out of the deeprealm. or if she wasn’t, then ophelia simply never found her. all that had been left was a quick, scribbled note stuck in the hinges of her room door, with her signature signed messily at the bottom.

( 😍 ) DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY CRUSHES? IF SO, WHO ARE THEY? ( also asked by @verseandrhyme

          ophelia sees love as being a weird topic. after the events of bluebird, she never really thought of liking other people as deeply as she did with her— fortunately, i’m here and she’s bisexual so—

          mitama is the closest to a crush equivalent to the one she had on bluebird. while very different, in both terms of speech and the way they hold themselves, she’s very fond of the shrine maiden. it’s a love where ophelia’s unable to control how her hands shake and her face heats up around mitama, but it’s not one where she feels the persistent tug in her heart to confess. it’s a comfortable crush; where she’s perfectly fine with the friendship they have.

          siegbert is a bit far from bluebird and mitama, being in the position where she had first despised of him and his upbringing. of course, after being dealt with, she found herself to develop a certain interest in him. having been apart of her life before the war, too, even if it was simply through interactions caused by forrest. she, as well, doesn’t see herself confessing to him anytime soon. or her feelings to develop into something deeper than a simple crush.

          soleil is complicated. she IS fond of her, maybe even to the point of crushing on her, but knowing how soleil deals with any girl is mainly the one thing stopping ophelia from actually having a real, true crush on her. soleil’s unloyal and with that being one of the most significant traits she looks for in a lover.... yeah.

          there are, also, others who aren’t in toa anymore ( or has just. never been here ) that she has the slightest crush on but i won’t comment on them because lmfao are you gonna make me? ( i’m kidding, leave me alone i’m only a little guy

[duskroine]

[ Nohr ] - A quick-paced dance that focuses heavily on precise footwork and bold movements, evoking the image of two soldiers in battle.

Priam was having a difficult time picking a favorite dance, but the one that captured the spirit of battle was up there. Ophelia seemed spirited enough to keep up with him.

“Ophelia- care for some action?” He took the first steps in the dance, on the platforms of his feet as though he was sparring.

          the first song comes to an end, and with it does ophelia’s posture return to one of refinement.  they smooth out their dress and bow a generous head at their earlier partner to the previous dance; a lady of endless compliments and a lovely silver dress.  they are given only a few moments of relaxation away from the center of the ballroom before the orchestra finishes tuning and another song is pulled from the wisps of silence; ophelia jumps at the song, quickly turning towards the orchestra with a delighted smile.

            their steps towards the ballroom’s dancing area are stopped by priam   —   ophelia squeals upon seeing him.   “   do i care?  why of course the heroine cares for a dance of valor and courage!  especially with you, dear friend,   ”   ophelia exclaims, bowing their head as they fix their dress and move into position.

            if anything, the nohrian dance is one of their favorites, although the dance from ylisse proves to be the greatest on the list.

            ophelia holds their head high and watches as priam takes the first few steps, quickly following after and keeping themselves close to him as they dance.  there is a lack of wildness in the dance that surprisingly is easy for them to replicate, bolding moving to the music as the pace becomes quicker, sharper, the image of a blade between two daring soldiers.  and it only brought forth joy to sense that they were, in fact, two soldiers both experiencing some form of battle within their past.

            the lead is switched to ophelia halfway through the dance, and ophelia takes it with confidence, guiding priam into the climax of this proposed battle.  precision in each step, the turn of footwork, all is serious except the laugh that slips from ophelia’s lips.

            “   it is a joy to see you once more,   ”   they exclaim as the music begins to slow to a dramatic, heart-stopping pause.  it is during that pause which ophelia slows their steps, giving over the lead to priam as they hold their card between two fingers.

            “   now, a reward for this duel, the true gift of which the soldiers of harmony had been competing for; a stamp to give and receive!   ”

[duskroine]

[ Smooch ]

They both have their own dates, but Mitama sees little reason why, despite that, they cannot still enjoy each others' company on their own. Ophelia looks lovely. Mitama is expected to simply believe that Siegbert will make certain she is aware of that fact? Please.

Getting Opehlia into place for the so called photograph was easy, thankfully.

"Oh, Ophelia, hold still a moment, will you?" Gently turning the woman's head towards her, Mitama waited until she heard the countdown from the photographer before leaning in and pressing a kiss to her dear friend's lips. A flash went off as the photograph was taken and Mitama pulls away with a soft smile.

"Forgive me." She laughs sheepishly. "I thought it a shame to let the opportunity pass."

          heroine almost squeals in delight upon seeing mitama approach her, unassuming that this approach has a purpose behind it.  she rushes at mitama and embraces her, all too distracted by the joy of being within the shrine maiden’s presence on such a grand night to notice that she was being led into a certain direction.  or that she was being put into a proper position until the lens of the magic within the projectionist’s grasp sparked.  ophelia gasps, clapping her hands together as mitama steps beside her.

          “   what pose shall we take to stance?  will   —   oh!  oh!  i have an idea, what if we... hm?   ”   although interrupting herself was always a habit she had, it’s not her voice that separates her thoughts this time.  ophelia nods and immediately stops moving, though it only lasts for a second since she jumps slightly at the touch of mitama’s hand on her face.

          there is a pause between when her head is turned and when the countdown begins to slip from the projectionist’s lips.  it’s in those few moments that ophelia gathers an idea of the pose that mitama wishes to take for the photograph.  maybe that is the real reason why she does not protest the simplicity that will show within the photograph’s result.

          though whatever idea she had was completely and utterly wrong   —   pressing foreheads together or staring dreamingly into each other’s eyes as two would do within a romantic play   —   because the countdown brings out mitama’s response.

          ophelia is unable to contain her surprise into just the widening of her eyes when mitama presses a kiss to her lips.  she reacts, thankfully, in time by pressing back into the kiss as the flash of magic sounds off.  mitama pulls away and ophelia giggles, then moving her hand to dramatically fan herself.   “   the heroine has been bested by a mere kiss!  it’s as the stars suspected!   ”   though her laughter is still genuine, she stops fanning herself to reach forward and hold mitama’s face in her hands.

          “   the heroine of darkness is filled with praise to think that you’ve succeeding at grabbing an opportunity before it disappeared.  all is forgiven,   ”   a pause for ophelia to quickly kiss mitama on the tip of her nose, then she lets go of the shrine maiden’s face and happily turns to the working projectionist,   “   now, let’s take in the sight of this image!  oo, then we’ll take more of these!   ”

[duskroine]

💭 hehe

hear my thoughts, for i am now you!

          “   YOU THERE!!   ”   ophelia’s shout rings throughout the forest’s clearing, loud and obnoxious but with the click of a certain sense of arrogance.   “   your presence screams out a display of your strength and i, PRIAM, destiny’s champion, must best you in a battle seen only by fate and its... nope, too wordy.   ”   the broadsword falls from their shoulder and they stick its blade into the ground, moving back to the large rock that they placed their belongings on.

          dressing the part took little work, their expertise in fashion having been greatened by a friendship with forrest, but it’s acting the part that seems a bit difficult.  priam is loud, yes, but not... wordy.  or, not as wordy as they are.  so, ophelia crosses out a few words and adds a few notes before mumbling the script over again from the start.  there are holes in a few of the lines and some points of dramatics could be lengthened but besides that, it’s perfect!

          ophelia moves back to the clearing’s center, pulling the broadsword from the ground and hauling it over their shoulder.  despite their prowess in magic and a clear lack of any other weapon, they’ve gained strength throughout the years of their childhood.  growing up around mages didn’t necessarily mean to miss out on weapon training as is.

          “   i, priam, the champion of destiny and pride, declare you as my opponent!   ”   the grin that takes to ophelia’s face is wider, more open and untamed.  they lower the broadsword and take a stance, easily creating the figure of a swordsman in front of them out of the imaginary wisps of their mind.   “   this battle of traded blows and blood, will end quicker than you might think.  NOW, LET US DANCE!   ”   but ophelia doesn’t move after.  a frown takes the place of their grin and they sigh.   “   would priam speak of dances in this sense?   ”

          no matter!!  they wave the thought away and prepare an attack, moving forward only a few steps before bringing the sword down upon the imaginary figure, who darts out of the way and just barely manages to catch the blade of their sword.  another strike follows, closely parried by that of a fake push from the opponent.  ophelia moves with a ferocity that even they don’t showcase on the battlefield; a mimic of what they’ve seen of priam.  although, the broadsword seems almost a bit heavier than the ones they’ve trained with back home.

          they turn on their heel and raise the sword to cut upwards, almost dangerously losing balance at the shift of weight in the attack.  although nothing could pass the victorious laugh that leaves ophelia’s lips at the sight of their invisible opponent finally taking the brunt of the strike.   “   that little was able to bring you to your knees?  predicted of course, but with this battle’s end comes the halt of our rivalry!!   ”   a twist of their expression, less prideful and more so of joy as they set the sword into the ground and hold a hand out.   “   i must applaud your skill.  able to almost best the great priam in battle... it’s something that not many find able.   ”

          ophelia laughs again and bows their head, raising it only after a few seconds.   “   if possible, another spar would be vERY, OH MY GODS, PRIAM—?!!   ”   they shout and immediately stumble backwards at the sight of the blue lions student standing a few yards away.  how had they missed him?!  had he appeared from thin air?  embarrassment flushes their face red and ophelia retracts their hand, laughing awkwardly.   “   o-oh, dear friend you... uh, gave me quite the misheard scare!  er, w-why have you... what are you doing here?   ”

[duskroine]

a gentle kiss to ask forgiveness

His stomach does backflips as he approaches. A battlefield of enemies could not make him flinch but Ophelia's charged gaze gives him goosebumps. A bouquet of lilies and tulips are clutched in his hand, symbols of humility and forgiveness. It's surprisingly easier than saying the words "I'm sorry" out loud.

Ares shoves the bouquet at her, flush already brazen upon his cheeks. He wants to look away in shame but he can't quiet bring himself to do so. Not when constellations dance in her eyes.

"I'm sorry for saying you're a bad kisser," Ares mumbles, barely audible. "You were just really aggressive..."

"Do you hate me?"

kiss, kiss!

         when ares graces ophelia’s presence, they’re amidst the mental recovering of the shared moment they had the day before.  why had they allowed such an action to overtake every thought leading to that day’s end?  surely, a simple kiss shouldn’t attach itself to their very mind for... hell, how long has it been?

          the marketplace is but a void of ignorance when ares approaches her, bouquet in hand and the guiltiest of frowns tainting his face.  but it isn’t that of which their gaze lingers on.  alongside the frown, the under curve of his lips, is the blush darkening his features.  it’s comical, they think.  almost as comical as the shared flush that overtakes her own face.   (   they ignore the fashion in which their gaze stays, almost too long, on the exact curl of his lips.  those that had been pressed against theirs.  he had kissed them.  he had... with hesitation matching a meek newly born warrior, not him.   )

          ophelia takes the bouquet, unable to utter out a protest before ares’ face reddens a color able to rival caeldori’s hair.  oh, this wouldn’t do!  they click their tongue, diverting their gaze only to stare at their surroundings before catching the sound of ares’ voice; the soft grumble of an apology.  and that alone, is enough to bring a smile to her face.  the question, although evidently serious and dire, is met also by the ring of their laugh.

         a hesitant hand reaches out, fingers grabbing at his uniform before they raise slightly, closer to his collar.  ophelia sighs   —   the silence that clings to their tongue is... unusual.   “   ares,   ”   and slowly, their smile becomes a pout,   “   you are a bigger fool than the stars whispered you as.   ”

         another moment of pause,   “   if the heroine hated you, then why would fate bring you in my direction?  my disapproval has never been for you; in fact, i deem it quite the opposite.   ”   realization strikes them the second after the words leave their lips.  they almost fumble for their voice, clutching harder on the bouquet and ares’ jacket.   “   e-either way, the heroine does not despise of you!  nor will he ever!   ”

          the next words said are whispered, as if ophelia was scared of anyone hearing them besides the two at that very moment.  in the marketplace.  clinging to each other like fools, absolute idiots.   “   if my romantic approach had been aggressive then... allow fate to grace me another attempt,   ”   and although it is not fate that rests a hand on her cheek and leans towards her, they still thank the unknown force of destiny.

          bless this gentle kiss and calm her twitching hand from hitting ares for the comment that foretold this thought-scrambling moment.

[duskroine]

❤️ = Does your muse focus on one person, or do they like to go and date as many people as possible?

we kiss and tell

( ❤️ ) DOES YOUR MUSE FOCUS ON ONE PERSON, OR DO THEY LIKE TO GO AND DATE AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE?

       yes and no. while she believes that her love should be for whoever she chooses, no matter the amount of people, she does have expectations and limits. she’d rather focus on one person, though, unless there are others who she also, truly loves and her partner is fine with it. if she’s already with someone and she loves them, she won’t leave them just to date someone else. it’s kind of stupid to her— like leaving one sparkling treasure chest just because there’s another one across the room that looks exactly the same and makes you feel exactly the same, y’know? she’d rather take both treasure chests with her!

[duskroine]

💍 = Big or small wedding?

we kiss and tell

( 💍 ) BIG OR SMALL WEDDING?

        surprisingly, she doesn’t really want that big of a wedding. it would be expected of her, yeah, because of how grand she makes her character, but she doesn’t see the need to push herself to be so much when with her lover. with this being said, even if it’s a small wedding, she’ll go over the top with decorations and such— the invitations will be handled by her lover. ( whichever wedding size, she’ll prefer for it to be outside and underneath the stars! no matter if she’s in character or not, she wants the universe to see the beginning of her future with her lover. if not the eyes of every civilian in town, then the stars will do just fine. )