#* ⠀ ─── ⠀ 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 ⠀﹕ ⠀ ❪ ic ❫

[frostise]

📍~!

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 📍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈’𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐀 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏   ┇   accepting ♡

here you go!! joker's chatoic nature transfered into this moodboard is neat as hell. she's basically having a power struggle against frost's aesthetics. it's chatoic, messy yet so elegant? a perfect fit tbh

[insurged]

" eventually you'll see i'm not worth it. " gojoo :>>

there  was  a  time  when  he  would  have  agreed.  a  deadly  combination  of  immaturity  alongside  the  absolute  power  that  his  teenage  self  had  been  completely  drunk  on,  gojo  had  held  very  little  empathy  for  both  humans  and  curses  alike.  in  most  cases,  humans  were  worse  in  his  eyes.  curses  are  created  from  the  festering  emotions  of  mankind,  in  no  way  having  a  choice  for  what  they  are.  humans  do  and  yet,  he’s  seen  them  commit  the  worst depravity,  selfish  beings  that  they  are.  a  fleeting  thought  of  obliterating  them  all  had  crossed  his  mind, once    —   ( should we kill these guys ? ) he had once asked a friend of his...

the world will never accept curses. he's had his fair share of watching and even sorcerers will throw their own away. what room is there for curses, amalgamations of negative emotions that resonate in people ? and it's because of his intimate understanding of being alone that he is extending his hand to others, tossed aside and rejected by all. he can't help adopting the strays. a small grin emerges, soft and genuine as fingers ruffle the top of her head, annoyingly continuous. it's meant to intentionally make a mess of her hair.

❝  ha! you're so pessimistic for a curse !  ❞  hand returns into his pocket, the other hiding behind his back offers the plastic bag of sweets to her that he's picked up from all over tokyo. ❝  i can only save those who want to be saved, rize. that's what you wanted, isn't it ? you're worth it.   ❞

                i believe in you, rize ( @glutosus ) .

[mcnagerie]

@infernal-feminae asked:

“I borrowed your shirt. Don’t you think I look cute?” - Vaggie to Alastor~

"Cute?" He gave a derisive little chuckle, hands slipping beneath the hem of the shirt to grasp at her hips, pulling her closer so her body was flush with his as he bent down to growl lowly, mere inches from her ear. "You look absolutely ravishing."

[destisea-a]

what do you make of people that believe this world is flat , doctor 🎤 ? ( is this ic idk soejxuwuxiwos )

     " idiots. fools. incurable morons. " a furrow to his brow.  " there is plenty of irrefutable evidence to prove their theories erroneous. but as i have seen time, and time again they are unwilling to listen to well established facts. "  fingers curl beneath his own chin, as he levels the knight with a stern glare.  " i hope of course, you do not share such sentiments. or am i mistaken... "

unprompted

[emblemartyr]

honesty - muse a wipes muse b’s tears away from under their eyes (if its easier you can place it post or during our thread 🫡)

TO BE GENTLE, AND TO ACCEPT GENTLENESS ・ accepting!

VULNERABILITY WAS A DELICATE FLOWER, naught to be unfurled by the reckless hands of another person lest they risk tearing the petals curled inwards over its heart. and that, truly, was all she could imagine as the boy broke into tears before her, his theatrics weakly caked into his voice to fruitlessly level what had already begun rasping and choking up. he made himself to be a sorrowful image; stepping away from her as he clutched onto his chest, as if to hug or curl in on himself.

had emmeryn said something she was not supposed to? all she could remember uttering was what he asked of her; an introductory to be shared between the pleasantry gap she had yet to bridge across. but, even a full sun after their last interaction, his wonderous eyes still water at the sight of her.

should she have given more of herself? laid her past, whether from her lips or anothers', bare at his feet until he was comfortable enough to poke and prod through it at his own pace?

the epitome of gentleness stepped forward, gloved hands raised to beckon and guide, to remind odin, once again, that she was a space of comfort rather than anguish.

"you. . . you poor thing. . . come," came her whisper, merely the ghost of an invitation, as her hands have already cradled the back of his head, gently pulling him closer until he was near enough to embrace. simply by instinct, had emmeryn's eyes closed, her focus entirely subjected to the physicality of something between them she could not understand. not yet, but she would learn to, until his gaze felt only the urge to brighten once fallen upon her.

his shoulders remained trembling when she pulled back, not far and not dismissive. instead, her hands moved in time with the soft curl of her lips, offering him an all - knowing and none - the - wiser smile as the pads of her thumbs brushed away the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. there was much to say, yet too little time to articulate any if all thoughts properly.

thus, confident in her silence, emmeryn whispered, only, "you are. . . are safe, oh━━━odin." before embracing the golden - haired man once again, canting her hand slightly to press against his as he shuddered and shook in her arms; sudden, came the memory of little sister clutching her skirts and sobbing until the fabric became wet with her grief. and, just as she had before, in the body she remembered nothing of, the former exalt gently held unto the back of his head and cared not for the dress his sorrow stained.

[archoniic]

They seemed to come from all direction: the mountains to the South, the sea to the East, the ruins of the Guili Assembly to the North, Mt. Tianheng to the West, and every inch of life far beyond each corner of Teyvat— each speck of ash, of chalk, of dust. It was as if all were called to an instinct ever innate, beckoned by some maker only they knew, and ached to see return. And so this night, beneath the poignant glow of the moon ever full, when the night surrounding her drew darker than it had in aeons of time, they gathered into a zephyr atop the cliff that left the lone presence of its lily untouched as if by divine intervention itself. They seemed enraptured within this gust almost as gentle as she, or so the oft unread tales of legends could recount to the children of the harbor. But here, within that embrace, one could swear for even a moment in time, that the moon overhead seemed to dim, a luminosity stolen for a second in which the space that each grain inhabited lightened, brightened, or...

Perhaps it was what seemed to form within that held the sudden vigor of the moon almost more comfortably, or perhaps it was the shadow therein that craved the light such a celestial body held so very carelessly— or perhaps, it wasn't a shadow at all, at least no longer. A shadow hardly bore the detail of garments of white and blue long forgotten by days of present, a shadow hardly bore the tone of pale skin illuminated from within and overhead alike, a shadow hardly held any competence to feel the air within human lungs, or the trivial need to breathe. And yet she, closer to any corporeal form than any spirit could ever long to possess, before bare feet ever touched the blades of grass beneath them— craved it,longed to breathe in the same air that caressed the bare of her back and the palms of her hands as they lifted at her scrutiny. She could feel it, as clear as she remembered it too long ago. And as the light within and around her lessened to merely the tips of grey tresses, and as her toes finally felt the crunch of green tickle— the specks of dust seemed to have gone, or perhaps they were still there, for were she and they not one and the same? She had stolen it, selfishly, the light of the moon whose signature she wore; for it surely illuminated her now as kindly as it ever had, if not more so. If one were close enough to listen, to overhear, then perhaps the smile that formed too slowly in wonderment could be heard; as if a secret kept from humanity forevermore. She had missed all of it; this sensation, the air within her lungs, the gentle touch of a breeze to her cheeks.

And then, as the night that blanketed the harbor that remained behind and away from her still regained its peace and the breeze around her settled to stillness, when her gaze finally drew up in gesture so intrinsic— it all faltered to unimportance in an instant. There was no breath, nothing after it had caught in her chest at the sight of him, the real sight of him. She'd moved so barely on instinct in response before she halted almost immediately, as if any approach of him was a right that had long since been lost, a right taken from her tar too soon in the ages that had passed them. And yet, and yet, her hand craved and longed, and her fingertips physically ached to touch him, to touch him before any and all else.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 bittersweet memories for the Lord of Geo. Each year; as though taunting him from afar, the moon would cast its effervescent glow upon him. Hidden from the view of the mortals; his sleeves rolled to the elbows. Golden marks burning ever brighter where the silvery glow would touch; much the same as the caress of someone once so dear to him. Lost now; a memory locked deep within his heart. Unspoken, yet remembered. Eyes of amber would close, and her laugh would chime much like a bell; he could almost recall the scent from the field of lilies that she loved so dearly. For once every year, he would allow himself that one night of reflection. That one night to truly feel the weight of all he had lost. Adding yet another fresh crack into the stone that had long since been his heart. Such feelings were not one he could put into words, nor truly understand himself. All he could do was experience. For every crack that was added to his heart, his soul; his life. It took him one step closer to her. He welcomed it like an old friend; familiar in the most devastating of ways. For one with a memory as long and clear as his, those feelings of despair were as prevalent now as they always had been. 

This year, the Moon's glow did not seem quite as bright; its touch did not warm his skin in the ways it had done each year before. It was different.  Zhongli; much the same as he did year upon year, found himself making the same trip up the cliff which overlooked the harbour. Where a single lily prevailed above all the others. Strong, fierce, determined. It should not have been able to survive there the way it did. Yet it blossomed perfectly. Footsteps stilled on the path upwards; amber gaze falling to the very tip. What is that? Misplaced, a shadow. One that moved in such a way as should not be possible to be simply cast by the glow of the moon. It took him too long to realise truly what it was he was looking at. It was not a shadow at all. 

But dust.

It felt as though everything stilled; no longer did he hear the sounds from the harbour or the rustle of the trees. No longer did he hear the footsteps on the path travelled. All he could hear was his heartbeat, echoing much too loud in his ears. For the first time he could remember; his footsteps faltered. A single misstep had the Lord of Geo almost tumble. Too consumed by thoughts he should not allow; for hope of that nature, what was within his heart was much too foolish. Yet the swirl of the dust was simply unnatural for it to be simply guided by the breeze. 

One step, then another; chasing what was likely to be the single most foolish desire of his heart. Eyes never once dared to leave the gathering of dust. Watching as each grain seemed to steal the very moonlight itself; shining, as though mocking him. Yet this could not be simply another memory conjured by his mind. For as much as he had perfect clarity; he could not envision something that had never happened. 

Whatever this may be; it was real.

Reaching the top took far too long; his steps were heavy, weighed down almost. The cracks in his heart almost became too large to bear. As he reached his destination; the dust had shifted, giving life to a form he thought he would never gaze upon again. Fabrics of blue and white and silver; the galaxy itself hidden within the sleeves. While not tangible in her entirety; the vision of her was unmistakable. Yet with every passing second; that vision grew more visible. He could barely catch his breath as he took in every moment; each swirl of the dust, each glance of the moonlight illuminating her skin; and as she turned to face him. The smile he remembered oh so clearly. The Lord of Geo was no longer made of stone. 

He cracked apart, completely. As though she, herself was the hammer and him; weatherworn and beaten, finally succumbed to those splinters he had long since tried to hide.

He attempted to reach her; as she did him, but no longer would his legs support him. The once mighty Rex Lapis, Morax; was brought to his knees in front of his Goddess. How long had it been since he had shed a tear for anything? Never once, in thousands of years; even upon her death, he had reacted with anger. Then with sheer focus on their people and realising her dream for both the mortals and the land. Now, with nothing more to truly focus on; no great battle to be fought, the mortals no longer needed their Archon. But he needed her. Perhaps a thought of his that he had not truly considered in all of those years. For while he walked on; her memory was always close. Those tears fell silently, his gaze never once wavering from her; in fear of her disappearing from his view once again. 

"Are you truly real?" A voice of a man that had held in too much, for much too long. Disbelief; confusion. Hope. 

This was not a memory that he could have conjured from his imagination, never before had she appeared for him in such a way. Each time; it had simply been a memory of her in a way that had already transpired. This was new. Each emotion he had tried to bury almost had the man break at the seams; for a while, he had convinced himself that he had forgiven himself for the past. It became entirely obvious at that moment that he simply had not. How could he when he felt he had let her down in the worst way possible? Had he not promised to protect them? Their land, their people; her? Morax, Rex Lapis, had failed in that; and in doing so, had lost her to the dust. 

Yet; she stood before him now, as real as she had been back then. Forcing himself to his feet, he ventured closer; a hand reaching out, met with the solidity of her. He made a sound that could only be described as human. A half huff of disbelief, yet entirely happy. That hand would travel up her arm, brushing along to her shoulder and her neck. He remembered this, how her skin felt. Warmer now, bathed in the glow of the moon. How many emotions passed along his face? It mattered not to him. She was real. He could touch her. He could see her. She was not a memory any longer. Palm would settle against her cheek, his thumb tracing along gently as he had done countless times before; another lifetime ago. 

[inscmnus]

💃   ─  dance around the living room to christmas songs  /  in all their years surely  @manusregis​

｡:*• ─ IT’S CHRISTMAS TIME !      ›   //   prompt.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄  ,  the final piece placed on the tree they'd spent nearly all day decorating.   You could tell by looking at it  ,  which bits Ignis had placed compared to the decorations Noctis had.  There was no rhyme or reason  ,  no coordination.  It looked odd at best  ,  and yet the young boy couldn't be any more proud of their achievement.  He stepped back to admire it  ,  unable to get the star at the top of the tree just yet  --  but that would come later.

Their mugs of hot cocoa not quite forgotten but the marshmallows and cream that had been sat on top looked a little flat.  Still  ,  he picked it up and took a large gulp of it  --  almost choking on one of the little marshmallow lumps but he just laughed it off.  ❝ I'm okay ! ❞  He chimes  ,  knowing how Ignis would likely worry if he thought anything was amiss.  They'd been in each other's company now every day for three years.  Both of them leaned more about the other every day  --  Ignis had become his only  ,  and closest friend.

The music that filled the air was nothing but upbeat Christmas music that Noctis had insisted on while they decorated the tree and the space within the room.  Yet the song that would come on next was one of his favourites.  A large grin as he took hold of Ignis' hand  ,  tugging him into a more open space. The dance was childish at best  ,  more jumping around and waving Ignis' arms while Noctis held onto his hands.  Laughter fell from his lips as he felt happy.  ❝ Come on Iggy! Dance! ❞  The tone was full of playfulness  ,  one that undoubtedly wouldn't last forever but for the moment...

All that mattered to Noctis was enjoying the time with Ignis.

[st-rangeres]

"Will you stop following me!" She instantly regrets giving them the squeaky boots.

each step , each stomp , each dramatic leap is accompanied by a squawk of the clown's newly-gifted boots. certainly no good for sneaking around the city and allowing others to share with her their trinkets and riches. aside from the displeasure it causes the sender , the receiver finds little use for squeaking boots. still , a toothy grin is fixed upon st. rangere's painted countenance , cheeks a shade of rose-pink , eyelids painted blue. “ must i - must i - must i , my queen ? “ voice lilts as if in song. “ you cannot wish for my departure so ... prematurely , not since you've gifted me these — “ two steps forward. “ oh , a delightful something ! “

in saint's hands , her old and tattered boots. “ queen bob ? “

[frostise]

06. Bedside cabinet

𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑…   ┇   accepting ♡

frost's bedside cabinet

note: louise is a extremely fussy person when it comes to organising her stuff because of her insomnia issue. one of its prominent side effects was memory loss and she would often misplace her belongings in the wrong areas. it used to get so bad she had to label her drawers with sticker labels until she memorised the orders of where each item was placed.

clam jewellery dish. a must-have item after louise returns from exhausting night outs and to dump most of her jewellery into the dish before hitting the sheets. and yes, this does include lupin's jewellery gifts ♡

ice cube candles. it's a form of aromatherapy meaning the sweet/sour scent relieves louise's anxiety, stress, depression and insomnia

louise's journal. a therapy journal to keep record of her dreams, nightmares, PTSD triggers and rants. most of her writing is in french

phone charger, lamp, hand cream, hand sanitizer, face cream, sleep mask, pillow spray and a waterbottle. all self-explanatory tbh

gothic literature and self-help books. louise reads notable authors like bram stoker, H.P. lovecraft, mary shelley and edgar allan poe. their books are neatly stacked on top of each other in alphabetical order. she would've been invested in self-help books specialising in insomnia treatments after her canon event. these are kept separately side-by-side

[insurged]

“ wesker , do you believe love could bloom , even on a battlefield ? “ from eun

there is an absurdity to the inquiry that wesker finds incredibly uncharacteristic of his loyal dog , unbecoming to even consider such a thought. no , is his immediate answer as he stares at his computer screen. that word is a delusion that human beings have fabricated for themselves.  ❝  hate is all humans know. i expected you of all people to know that better than anyone. ❞  ( it’s all wesker knows too ). it’s a perfect way to manipulate others and expose their weaknesses. very much the way his underlings couldn’t bring themselves to pull through their punches when they found out that their captain wesker wasn’t real. or the way his parents offered him to umbrella as a key investment without even asking him if he wanted that. love is impossible for such a self destructive species. he’s seen the entire diversity of wretchedness the human race is capable of in his career and very much looked down on them as unworthy in his eyes. it’s why his project would have produced the results he wanted to see and get rid of the infestation… that string of thought is cut off immediately before his anger has a chance to settle in. dark shades give away nothing as he skims the report.

❝  don’t trust anyone that tells you ( @sosordid ) that they do. ❞  and especially in their line of work , the betrayals , the lies , it’s all everyone knows. he's an expert. while wesker is not one to throw out advice to anyone , he owes quite a huge debt to eun for saving his life. there was no way around that.

❝  they're lying. ❞

[mcnagerie]

FMK for Al: Charlie, Vaggie, Niffty uwu

Send my muse "FMK" and three names for them to say which one they'd Fuck, Marry and Kiss.

"All three for all three!"

That's not how it works, Al.

"Spoilsport. Very well, then; the princess is a delight, and taking her for a wife is clearly the most advantageous choice, just from a strategic perspective. Vaggie is, I must admit, quite a looker...yet, so is Niffty, and she's been one of my stalwart confidante for decades. However, that begs the question; would taking our relationship to a more intimate level be harmful to our friendship overall?"

"Though, knowing her...tastes, in men, I daresay she would be keen to hop into bed with me. Hm...yes, I do believe I have my answer: I'll marry the princess, have a romp in the hay with Niffty, and give the moth a simple smooch. All hypothetically, of course!"

[destisea-a]

❝ doctor, do you think rocks have feelings? ❞ (this is a genuine question 🧍‍♀️)

      " while i encourage investigative queries, hana. i implore you to think a little more thoroughly on what kinds of questions you ask, before they leave your mouth. " a pause. he knows she's not asking about any proven, sentient mineral based life-forms. she is asking about stones. boulders. ...  rocks. 

" but, to answer in short--  no. "

unprompted

[archoniic]

The glaze lilies— "Shh," came in the very softest of whispers, and the pad of her thumb rushed to his lips as if to quiet him— though it was not that he had been speaking particularly much in any capacity So perhaps that little detail, could simply be explained away as a yearning for that physical connection with him that she always craved. Always. The lilies, their lilies! Did he hear them? A childlike wonder settled rather rapidly within those eyes of grey, and it was, undoubtedly, a sight to behold. How could a god as she be mesmerised by anything? Mortal or celestial, and yet— the lilies, did he? Her finger lingered still when she spoke, a whisper even quieter than before. "Do you hear them, Morax? They're singing." It was a miracle that she had found the ability to speak with how grand the smile was, as it lay framed amidst those braided tresses of grey, as she lingered so very close to him. They were singing, so very clear as day (were they?)— and the untainted and sheer delight that encompassed every inch of her in response was, almost, unparalleled. And so caught within her glee and utter elation, in this moment which she so ached for him to witness and experience with her, she'd forgotten that her finger was still held ever so lightly to his lips, "our lilies."

.

𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆; but even if he had, he would have quieted the moment her thumb pressed to his lips. Though his first reaction was not one of excitement, nor peace as hers was – it was alert. As though perceiving a potential threat from the midst of the lilies themselves. Morax’s body tensed; his natural reaction. As it had been for many a moon, as much as the confusion that clouded his eyes upon her next words. The more he allowed himself into this society, the more the world around him confused him. Perhaps he had seen it as much too black and white; he had not been able to see the differing shades of grey that she saw. How majestic something as utterly simple as a flower could be. How incredibly complex the mortals themselves were. It was slow progress for him; but he at least looked upon some of the humans with slightly less mirth. 

“I.. do not.”

Morax heard nothing but the wind in the air and the sound of his own breathing. Yet, the look in her eyes told him she at least heard it. A crease settled between his brow, amber gaze falling upon the expanse of lilies ahead of them; there they swayed – almost as though dancing to whatever song that could not be heard by the Lord of Geo. He tried; he tried to hear them. But he could not, perhaps that was something saved only for the God of Dust. Perhaps only she could hear; or maybe he was still as rigid as the rocks themselves and could not hear something quite that delicate.

“I am sure they sing for you.” He told her, a smile on his face; accepting the fact that he couldn’t hear it and likely never would – but what a song it must have been for it to capture her as entirely as it did. “A song they sing only meant for your ears. The secrets of the lilies.”

[inscmnus]

“let’s not be dramatic,” he tuts, tone light and on the verge of a sigh. “i can assure you— you’ll live.” leaning back against the balustrade, green eyes twinkle with an unmistakable glint of mischief as they slant in noctis’ direction. he twirls the flute in his hand idly. “or, at the very least, we might be able to slip out in not much longer.”   /   what if i said brotherhood era champagne shenanigans? 👀  @manusregis​​

𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒  ,  eyes closed for a moment.  Dramatic was perhaps not the word Noctis would use  --  though he'd made no secret of his disdain for such events.  The corners of his lips twitched upwards slightly  ,  knowing that was more of a tease coming from Ignis than the mirth it would have usually held from someone else.    ❝ I'm not sure about that.  If I have to listen to someone else telling me the colour choice for the walls was excellent I might die of boredom. ❞    That was an exaggeration.  In truth  ,  these sort of things tired him out more than anything.  He wasn't a social butterfly  ,  and though he tried to engage occasionally  ,  it felt forced and awkward.  

He leans against the barrier  ,  gaze tilted upwards and a thoughtful expression on his face.  The sounds coming from the room were filtered only by his want to ignore them for a few moments.  His back ached a little  ,  though it wasn't anything he couldn't endure.  Despite the knowledge that this was part of his duty  ,  and one he would fulfil to the best of his ability  --  sometimes crowds became a little too overwhelming for him.  Yet his resilience in keeping up with them was owed largely to the one standing beside him.  One day you'll be the King  ,  and these events will be yours to hold.  The guests his to entertain  ,  the talks his to guide.  The thought of that alone was daunting  ,  and though he didn't doubt that he'd one day be able to do it.  He did sometimes question if that was because he had the strength to do it like his father  --  or because of the people  ,  mainly Ignis  ,  who he knew would be by his side.

Becoming King was perhaps one of the most terrifying things Noctis was faced with.  By that point it would have meant so much would have changed and a key figure in his life might not even be there anymore.  It wasn't simply about becoming the King  ,  but what he'd potentially lose by taking up that crown.  How often had someone commented  ,  saying he'd make a fine King one day.  Equally as many as those who wondered if he was strong enough to bear that burden.  Yet those were thoughts for another night and not something he'd ever easily voice  ,  not tonight.  He'd opted to at least try to enjoy it.

Pushing away from where he was leaning  ,  a few steps forward.   He brushes down the front of his jacket  ,  tugging at the bottom of it like he was trying to find the motivation to re-join everyone else.  ❝ Alright... you with me? ❞  Though posed as a question  ,  it was one that didn’t need an answer.

[emblemartyr]

EMMERYN ( INSERT MIDDLE NAME ) LOWELL, has arrived at Garreg Mach Monastery's Town !

#EMBLEMARTYR ━━━ private roleplay blog for Emmeryn of Fire Emblem: Awakening ( FE13 ); interpreted & loved by Barely ( 8TEEN / any prns ); affiliated with The Officers Academy as a townsperson and organization founder.

NOTES ON PORTRAYAL.

with Emmeryn being written after the canon events of Awakening, the likelihood of spoilers appearing in her posts is highly possible, as she specifically comes from her respective paralogue after a critical canon event which shapes her current interpretation. of course, I will tag all of the appropriate posts accordingly. the official tag for any spoilers will be #awakening spoilers to avoid them.

unlike my other two muses, Emmeryn lives in the town of the monastery as a kind, yet quiet neighbor to those who reside there. upon having her housing papers admitted without struggle, she decided to rent out an empty building and use the treasury she'd been given to fund an organization for royals and nobles of any age to get advice and assistance with their etiquette and handling civil affairs, which she remembers easily.

after the events of Awakening, and known to those who saved her in her paralogue, Emmeryn suffers from a multitude of injuries that have changed her as a person. there are physical conditions, like her limp, unconscious twitching / trembling, and rapid blinking. and there are non-physical conditions, like her amnesia, hindered speech, and periodic headaches. I will not allow any heavy IC or OOC jokes about any of these unless spoken of beforehand. the way I treat Emmeryn is very careful and I'd become uncomfortable if her conditions were made fun of. in a softer note, there are a few social norms she does not remember and will need to be reminded of in certain situations.

similar to the above bullet, Emmeryn does speak slowly, in half sentences, pronounces certain letters and words wrong, and pauses a lot to formulate her thoughts. this will not change for a long, long time, as in the years after her paralogue, she hasn't recovered much from the incident. if your muse will belittle or mock her for her verbal inconsistencies, tell me beforehand so I can consider whether they should interact or not. just long enough for me to become fully comfortable with her narrative voice as a muse.

unless your muse has known her before her arrival or is currently enrolled under her organization, then they do not know that Emmeryn was the former Exalt of Ylisse, as this is not something she shares for the hope of starting over completely with strangers outside of her profession. on the note of her organization, let me know if your muse would approach her for it! you have to be a noble for the political classes but anyone can take her etiquette courses.

additionally, a frequent NPC that you will hear mentioned or referenced in her interactions is Langston, who is the caretaker that was deployed to Regna Ferox to tend to her. he is important to her reasoning for being here but will not be able to speak with your muse unless the thread or interaction calls for it and we have discussed it prior. yes he is pretty and twenty-seven and shy and blonde-adjacent and I have a crush on him, next question

NAVIGATION ━━━ RULES; MUSE; STATS; INTERVIEW; THREADS; SUPPORTS PAGE.

TAGS.

♚ ━━━━━━ ❝ the immortal light that beckons a kingdom forward ・ 【 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 】 .

♚ ━━━━━━ ❝ falling is trusting that the world will catch you ・ 【 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 】 .

♚ ━━━━━━ ❝ let us fill in the gaps of memory with those anew ・ 【 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 】 . ( all answered asks )

♚ ━━━━━━ ❝ kindred smile and soul; offering all she is and was ・ 【 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 】 .

♚ ━━━━━━ ❝ she; who motherhood cannot ever forget ・ 【 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 】 . ( drabbles of the muse )

♚ ━━━━━━ ❝ she; the daughter known by her gentle hand ・ 【 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 】 . ( headcanons or meta written about the muse )

♚ ━━━━━━ ❝ is love not simply the strength of both kin and stranger ・ 【 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 】 . ( any quotes from literature that are reblogged )

♚ ━━━━━━ ❝ a promise to never erase ・ 【 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 】 . ( posts that are reblogged that were not written by myself but contain an interaction with my muse that i want to save )

♚ ━━━━━━ ❝ mun; barely ・ 【 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 】 .

♚ ━━━━━━ ❝ thread name ・ 【 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 】 .

♚ ━━━━━━ ❝ mission name ・ 【 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 】 .

[st-rangeres]

@goldshadows SAID: now i know what you are . / does she or is she bluffing? who knows! from jami [ meme. ]

“ — what , that i'm your favorite ? “ the half-elf is no stranger to the art of lying , despite how the statement stirred uncomfortably within her chest. beneath well-loved and colorful attire , the pendant that was carved in the likeness of her god felt particularly cold against her skin in this moment. curious stare is quick to shift into a mask with a lighter , more jovial countenance matched with a flash of a toothy grin. the golden bells of her two-toned jester's hat jingle and chime with her animated pleasure. “ why , my dear companion , i'm flattered — to the highest degree ! “

the grin softens , and soon expression shifts into one with a touch more mystery. voice drops to a whisper : “ you are my favorite too , mischief-maker. “