#leonie my beloved

[taminghorses]

Not to be dramatic but I would die for our office dog!!!

[kyouranheysetsunaaa]

IT LOOKS LIKE THEY'RE MATCHING GOD I LOVE THE TENMA SIBLINGS

[garbria]

Flufftober Day 1

Cor knelt down, doing his best to keep his fury from his face and school his features into something comforting. His katana already vanished back into the Armiger, he held out his hands, palms up. “It’s okay, kids, you’re safe now.”

The widening of the eyes of the one of the girls huddled before him was the only warning he had. He twirled, pulling his katana out in the same motion. Behind him, one of the traffickers dropped his gun, screaming as a black blur dropped down on his head. The trafficker swore, grabbing the yowling cat, and threw it. It hit a post with a thud, sliding into the water with a splash.

Cor didn’t waste the opportunity, stepping forward to drive the hilt of his katana into the trafficker’s stomach, then sweeping his feet out from under him. He pulled out cuffs and secured the trafficker just as Espervier ran in, followed by more Crownsguard. 

Cor stood back, letting Espervier take charge of the scene. He walked over to the edge of the pier, scanning the water. He bent down and scooped out a wet ball of fur, relieved to feel it breathing. He tucked it into his jacket, nodded to Espervier, and walked back to the docks. Nodding in acknowledge to the mix of Crownsguard and Crown City Police surrounding the scene, he didn’t stop until he reached his car. He opened the back door and laid the cat on the seat. 

The cat sat up and stared at him. it was clearly well cared for, current soggy appearance notwithstanding. Not a stray, certainly. What was it doing here? Who was missing their cat?

“Who do you belong to?” Cor muttered, watching the seat get slowly wetter as the cat dripped on it.

The cat only sneezed in answer.

“Don’t go anywhere.” Cor sighed, and shut the door. He trotted back to one of the Crown City police cars and came back with a borrowed towel.

He opened the car door, and froze as he found a soggy Kingsglaive in the place he had just left a cat. 

“Ah, I can explain?” The glaive gave him an embarrassed smile.

With a start, Cor realized he recognized him. The rising star, the one Titus liked to bitch about. How very interesting.

“I look forward to it, Ulric.” He held the towel out.

[circadianaa]

soldier, poet, king

from left to right: eyre (me), leonie ( @jaigeye ), and ailani ( @queen-breha-organa )!! <3

[applecidersstuff]

Sometimes I wonder if Leoni knows about Jesper. Not who he is but that he exists. When Aditi died Jesper and Leoni were about 10(?) and her father knew about Jes, but they lived on farms, so could it be that Jesper and Leoni never met?

Like imagine Leoni at some point meeting Jesper, they start talking about their childhood in Novyi Zem and Leoni mentioning how a zova saved her life when she was a child, and how she’d taken her last name to honor her. And Jesper immediately recognizing his mother’s last name and freezing because he connects the dots and has no idea how to react. Imagine how after she leaves he just stares into the wall and doesn’t know what to do, how to act and what to think or say. He’s devastated and sits there for hours just staring into the wall playing again and again the memories of his mother in his head.

So in the end he goes to the only person he know that can understand what he feels. And to his surprise the person helps.

[padfootsaphrodite]

Zoya hugging Genya altered my brain chemistry. Something about that hug not only meant something to them but something to me. I felt like I was getting hugged in that moment, it made me tear up actually.

[sweetvanilaornament]

I’m three days late but that won’t stop my polyneed medications.

pocky day! saki tenma is so stupid. more than very stupid actually.

[adamcreyton]

Four exclusive prints that I'll be having at my artist's booth for The Game Expo in Melbourne next weekend!

They are for the voice actor guests, Allegra Clark [Ethlyn/Dorothea] and Ratana [Ishtar/Leonie]

Thank you for bringing these beloved characters to life!

[daily-leoneed]

Day 213

Integral my beloved,,, It’s such a pretty song and I love the 3DMV combined with their WL outfits alongside the cut-ins (I will never not gush over those cut-ins it was so perfect for Leoni!!). Art is by Mele.

[dd-is-my-guiltypleasure]

Everyone’s gone UFO crazy. Maybe The X-Files should come back

Chrissy Iley

MARCH 2, 2024

Starring in a poignant new film adapted from his own novel, David Duchovny reveals the heartache of almost losing his daughter... and why his most famous show could yet return

No wonder David Duchovny has written, directed and stars in his latest movie Bucky F***ing Dent... it’s based on his own bestselling 2016 novel of the same name. Poignant and funny, it examines a father-son relationship via baseball, with X-Files star David playing Marty the dad, who’s dying of lung cancer, and Logan Marshall-Green from Spider-Man: Homecoming as his estranged son Ted.

The real Bucky Dent went down in history for scoring an unlikely home run for the New York Yankees in a 1978 tie-breaker against arch rivals the Boston Red Sox, and the film’s title is how generations of Boston fans have referred to him ever since, a metaphor for heartbreak. Set in that same year, the film follows struggling writer Ted as he moves back into his childhood home when he hears his father is dying, prompting a whirlwind of dark revelations from the past. Meanwhile, Boston fan Marty’s health dips whenever his beloved Red Sox lose, so New York fan Ted orchestrates the illusion of a Boston winning streak...

Marty has transferred his feelings for an old flame (the secret love of his life, not his wife) to the Red Sox. ‘The intensity of fandom has always puzzled me,’ says David. ‘It has to be a kind of sublimation. My father and I liked playing baseball; my best childhood memory is playing it with him and enjoying the simple communication you can have through a game, but we didn’t share the fandom thing.

‘Marty’s transposed his feelings for this woman to the Red Sox, and the movie is really about the idea of losing. In America there’s a sick addiction to winning and winners, but most of us have to lose every day. Suffering makes us human - it unites us all.’

There’s a moment in the film when Marty is talking about a chest infection that almost killed Ted as a child. Marty says he begged God or whoever to take his lungs instead and let Ted live. ‘One thing I’ve never told anyone is that when my daughter was nine months old she got really ill,’ reveals David. ‘Her mother [actress Tea Leoni] and I had to face the fact we might lose her and I remember feeling so devastated, I didn’t think I could love anything again if she died.’

His daughter West, now 24, has since become a successful actress who seems to have inherited her mother’s stunning blonde looks and her father’s charisma. ‘I think she has a greater passion for acting than either of her parents ever did,’ he says. They also have a son Kyd, 21, and David says the hardest moment of his life was telling them he and Tea were divorcing ten years ago, as his own parents had done when he was 12. ‘It was far worse telling them than actually experiencing it. When you’re a child you just try to get through it, you don’t feel responsible. As a parent I felt at least 50 per cent responsible.’

Tall and thin with good skin and an easy charm, David seems untouched by the ageing process, although this role is a huge shift from the Lotharios he usually plays, such as bed-hopping writer Hank in comedy-drama series Californication. Does getting older bother him? ‘Of course, and as an actor you have to think of the different roles you’ll be offered. When I was writing this script I was thinking I’d play Ted, the son. We tried to make it four or five years ago and I was still going to play Ted, but then when it came to doing it I realised it just wouldn’t work, so I thought I’d play Marty. And that was exciting because it was very different.’

Californication won two Emmys and a Golden Globe, but was notorious for its portrayal of LA’s seedier side. Does he think it could be made now? ‘Certainly they would insist on intimacy coaches, but I don’t think it would be made now, for the wrong reasons. There was a misunderstanding about what it was about. It was meant to be funny, and it was meant to be about family and love. But what everybody got excited about was not that,’ he says, referring to the furore over the sex scenes. ‘In my mind the show was misperceived.’

Another of David’s roles that would spark a row today was a transgender FBI agent in Twin Peaks in the early 90s, when almost no transgender women were on TV. Again it was groundbreaking. ‘But if you’re playing a murderer no one asks you, “Have you murdered people?”’ he says. ‘It was just being an actor.’

David is, of course, best known for The X-Files, in which he played UFO-obsessed FBI agent Mulder opposite Gillian Anderson’s sceptical Scully. The series finally bowed out in 2018 after 11 series, but could there ever be another? ‘Maybe - it might even be more current now,’ he says, referring to the recent release of top-secret UFO files in the US. ‘I’m not personally interested in UFOs so it doesn’t make it more exciting for me to revisit The X-Files. It was a role I played but I wasn’t passionate about the subject. Maybe I’m the only one who isn’t.’

There was a brouhaha at the time about the huge pay discrepancy between David and Gillian, and I wonder if it would be difficult for him to work with her again. ‘As far as I know, by the end there was no difference at all between us, but Hollywood salaries are very weird,’ he says. ‘I’m going to London soon and I’ll see Gillian because she lives there now. I saw her in the West End doing All About Eve and I enjoyed it. She wished me luck with Bucky too.’

In recent years David has explored his passion for music, releasing a couple of folk-rock albums. So does he see himself as an actor, a director or a musician? ‘All of them, I’m an artist,’ he says. ‘I can filter stuff through a song, a novel, a performance or through directing. There are all kinds of ways of being an artist. I write best about dramatic things. There’s a way to deal with suffering to create art.’

Bucky F***ing Dent, Glasgow Film Festival, Wednesday. Visit glasgowfilm.org

[owlask]

Funny little guy:

At least I got my funny little guy with me

[throwaway-yandere]

Saudade (Yandere!Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Reader)

A/n: it has been 500 years since I turned off my brain and wrote something out of pure passion lmao dimitri my beloved &lt;333

Unreliable Synopsis: Circumstances won't allow you to be around the crown prince of Faerghus' side, and it wasn't as if you want to be near him either after allying with House Gloucester. Besides, if there was one person you want from your past back, who else would it be other than your old womanizer best friend? (Cw: yandere themes, violence, war)

commissioned by: @poptartsthings (holy sht thank you for making my first commission to be dimitri fic aaAAHHHHH--)

“You should just send them your letter– say that you’re sorry.”

"Uhuh, but what if he doesn't remember me anymore, Raph?"

"Well," Raphael placed both his hands behind his head, lolling back as he reeled a fish in. "There’s just no way. Based on your stories, I think he’s in love with you, (Y/n). You can't just ignore him forever, ya know?"

You raised an eyebrow, "yes, I can. It's not like there are tons of situations where I need to interact with the crown prince."

"Okay, true... But maaaaaybe you can try eating lunch with him!" Raphael brushed against your shoulder "There's nothing that can get people to open up like a good meal together. Maybe you can steal a seat– oh, and sneak in his favorites on his plate too."

You chuckled softly, "I think that method only works on you, Raph."

"Nonsense!" He said, shaking his head earnestly. "It also works on my baby sister!"

You snorted.

Your housemates are endearing. Truthfully, you never would have expected that it's comfortable in the Golden Deer. Your heart desired to become a Blue Lions graduate like your parents, but familial circumstances or lack-there-of forbade any opportunity. Had life been easier on you, your dorm wall would've sported your family’s blue flag.

And not Gloucester’s.

Since your parents perished in what is now known as the “Tragedy of Duscur”, Count Gloucester assumed responsibility of being your legal guardian. Your parents had always thought of Lorenz’s father as a close ally. Plus, this arrangement was better than living up the frigid north with estranged minor noble relatives who gave you an even more colder shoulder.

However, thread any less carefully around the Alliance, and you might find yourself under his conservatorship forever. You just have to thank the Blue Sea Star that you didn’t bore a crest lest you’d be engaged to Lorenz. Uncle Erwin is a wonderful father to him and he doesn’t treat you with malice either— but of course, he keeps an eye open to morally gray opportunities to exploit your title.

And that includes listing your name amongst the Golden Deers.

At first, you were hesitant in showing that you're an “outlier” in class, but it seems you fit the mold quite easily. Too easily. Not because you had been accustomed to their social norms, it is more like the fawns are oddballs themselves. The youngest was an enchantment waiting to explode, your largest was a total muscle-head, the house leader has a screw loose when it comes to strategic retreat and poisoning, and the rest are just as eccentric.

No one cares if you told them you have an affinity for theater here, and spoilers: they really did not give a damn. Except for maybe when Ignatz genuinely went "oh, that sounds wonderful, (Y/n)!" before the conversation digressed about Leonie's mismatched socks she bought on the market.

Oh, but Raphael and Claude did care when they found out that you might've had a long but faded friendship with at least four of the Blue Lions. Compared to Claude, you trust that Raphael comes from a good place whenever he brings them up. Since he and Ignatz were childhood friends who slowly grew apart, he has your best intentions whenever he suggests something that could reignite your relationship with either Sylvain, Felix, Ingrid, or Prince Dimitri.

Claude, on the other hand…

The house leader first emerged as a shadow, then he sat down and squeezed between you and Raphael, with his arm encircled around your waist. Claude's apparent lack of etiquette went unmentioned by either of you (you suspect Claude is part-Almyran), but you do intend to ignore him later like your "foster brother" does.

"Trading secrets about Prince Dimitri, are we? Won't ya invite poor me along in your little secret meeting?”

You sighed tiredly, "Claude–"

"I was just kidding. No need to give me that face," Claude raised his arms defensively. “My lips are sealed— I never heard a single word between you two, promise.”

The deers were a little leery of your prior association with the crown prince of Faerghus. Claude, who frequently pries into everyone's private affairs, persistently diverted your focus to the Lions. In fact, he once burned your favorite book to forcibly draw your attention to the library so that you'll share the same room with Dimitri. Talk about extremes, really.

But you did notice that there's something off about Claude this time.

“So what brings you here? There’s no way you’ve come here to fish.”

“Yeah, no…” He cringed. “I’d rather do the eating part.”

“Haha, you get it, Claude!” Raphael said before the two men shared a crisp high-five.

Ah, these fawns…

You sighed, “can we skip to the part where you explain why you’re sitting beside me right now?”

“Sure. Leonie wanted me to tell you that Lysithea told her that Lorenz was told by Prof—”

“Do you not know the meaning of “skip”, Riegan?”

“Nah, course I do,” Claude smirked. “It’s just fun to tease people who live in House Gloucester.”

“Sothis, have mercy.”

“As I was saying, Lorenz was told by Professor Byleth to tell you that Sylvain is now part of the Golden Deer.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“… What?”

There was no dramatic gasp. Nothing sensational or derogatory comment was elicited from impetuous lips. You simply blinked and said the words "what? as if it were a simple joke. Claude needn’t explain that those were facts. Based on how he approached with worry written on his face that he failed to hide from you, he wasn't jesting.

You're reluctant to speak with Sylvain. You last spoke to him in earnest four years ago. Don't get it twisted, you do want to get back in touch with that philanderer's good graces, but where would you even start?

Dear Sylvain, I’m sorry for ignoring your letters? Dear Sylvain, I’ll reimburse you for all the theater tickets you gifted before without my consent? Dear Sylvain, I’m a garbage best friend?

… Knowing him, he’d likely frame that letter with careful preservation while the ink from his heaps of love letters faded inside his shelf collection. If you were to send similar letters to the other two, Felix would train to become a mortal savant and burn the letter out of spite, and Ingrid would have simply torn them up.

“WOAH!!!”

Raphael's chest caught your attention for a brief moment, and you quickly avoided him, concerned that those wooden buttons will suddenly protrude into your eyes. Your housemate captured the fish without even feeling his buttons tear apart from his outfit.

Goddess Messenger.

That’s quite an expensive catch right there.

But it felt like an omen for something.

“… I’m heading back to my dorm room.”

“Want us to go with you?” Raphael offered, but he reeked of fish.

“No, I’ll head there alone.”

Claude tilted his head, “Sylvain is probably there, you know.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But I’m tired.”

“I just can’t run away from the lions anymore.”

You should’ve taken your words literally.

Instead, the phrase "I need to get over this, fast" resonated in your thoughts, and you bolted as soon as the impulse to settle everything fueled your anxiety. You should have cared if someone got in your way, but you didn't.

“Ngh—” you flinched, bumping into someone’s back. “Whoops— sorry about that—”

You froze as you looked up.

Great. Just your luck.

“… What is there to be forgiven, (Y/n)?”

And of course, he called you by your first name. Your arguments against Raphael were demonstrably false. A futile hoax. Why even try to imagine that he might have forgotten about you?

Dimitri smiled softly, his eyes crinkling in delight. You gulped shakily.

After all, how can the crown prince ever forget his first love?

Now that you took a good look, his hair was much shorter than how it used to be and he grew positively taller. It’s a haircut you took a while to get used to, especially since you recalled how his hair used to hover near his shoulder. Not that you didn’t know about any of this information already. It’s just that you had to reassess those facts after seeing him up close. Perhaps a bit too close for comfort.

If only your last memories with him were as pleasant as his face.

He wanted you as his consort, but you had nothing to offer him. No land, no worthy title befitting for a king’s spouse, and no true inheritance in your arsenal at age 15. But when one has less to lose, they become more introspective. While clinging to Sothis' statue and pleading for life, they gain wisdom. Unlike the prince, you were not naive to what could befall the kingdom if you were to marry him. Instead, you sought asylum by knocking on Uncle Erwin’s door with the few loyal servants to House (L/n) left, and he accepted your offer after days of consideration.

His name will be tarnished as a young traumatized prince who copes by spoiling a love unrequited. But most of all? The loss of his friends and family would’ve developed his separation anxiety towards you more if you stayed.

The prince was something of a doormat teenager. He begged and nearly cried when you had accidentally slipped out that you’ll be allying with House Gloucester– but stopped his outburst the moment you chewed him out with hurtful phrases. Dimitri clung onto you like an affectionate pup and if his childhood self could latch on for the rest of his life, he would in a heartbeat. Perhaps it was the side-effect of being his first friend. He had always been a genuinely kind person, but he was always so caught up in whatever happened in the past.

Was it rational or heartless to leave him and the rest of your companions behind? Likely both, if you were to ask El.

That doesn't mean you don't occasionally catch a glimpse of him at the officer's academy. It's hilarious how, after Dedue performed his duties as a vassal, Dimitri now had to cope with a situation that was identical to yours. A "protector" so dependent… it was as though you were watching the prince try on your shoes. Your “you don’t have to shield me every time we go to the training grounds” line became His Highness’ catchphrase towards his retainer. And you’re not sure what to feel about that.

Was it comedy or plain karma? Likely both, if you were to ask Claude.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” you bowed. There would’ve been more eyes on you inside the cafeteria if you hadn’t. Gossips of lese-majeste would’ve stirred even Lindhart awake. “Do you require something from me?”

Formal.

Too formal for him, but not formal enough for you.

Dimitri's brows wrinkled, and you briefly saw his lip tremble. His hands were behind his back, and one of them was discreetly and firmly gripping his wrist. That man had a pained, speechless expression on his face, and you don't hold him responsible when words fall short.

But when words do fail, you wished he could just stop talking whenever he feels overwhelmed.

“I…”

I miss you. So much.

You didn’t need to hear it to know what he wanted to say.

Princess Edelgard was right, Dimitri is wholly predictable.

He cleared his throat, ears turning red.

“It had been so long since we had last spoken, has it not?”

“It has.”

“Around 4 years, so I'd say.”

“Hmm. So it has,” you doubt he noticed how your words were curt and redundant, since he's too busy trying not to melt. “So it has.”

“Are you enjoying the Golden Deer house, s-so far?” Dimitri manufactured a smile. “I’ve heard you and Lorenz made for a wonderful tag team at the last House Tournament.”

Bullshit.

He didn’t just “hear” about it.

You saw him cheer for you giddily in that tournament.

There is nothing he can conceal from you. If he were as cunning as Claude, it might take you some time to discover who was responsible for leaving sloppy, "anonymous" love letters inside your dorm. There were also petals tucked inside. Pink camellias, a sign of longing.

“It’s a feat not worthy of your praise, your Highness.”

Seriously, you don’t want to hear him flatter you anymore.

“Simply untrue,” he shook his head earnestly. “I’ve also heard that—… Y… You are fond of Raphael. As a friend— of course. It’s relieving to know that you have many companions from different walks of life— which is to say, I approve of whoever you talk to, but—”

You’re not deaf. You noticed how much his words were about your relations with others. There’s no other interpretation to this other than jealousy.

Still, his face was red. He must be too caught up in the joy of talking to you that he didn’t care for how envious his words sounded. You laughed curtly. You want to remind him the reason why you left, but you can’t explain a thing despite desperately wanting to, just like him.  

Dimitri wants you back, so much so that he's stuttering in every sentence.

But you didn’t reply to his ramblings. Save for the cafeteria hall’s chatter, it was silent. You’ve long accepted in your heart that your family is dead and you ought to coast forward. 

And there’s no future where you will cut through a path beside Dimitri. 

Besides, House (L/n) had histories of trading tactics with Leicester, and you cannot discount how people refer to your blood as sheeple with its loyalty. It’s a double-edged sword, one you’d utilize well if you close your eyes right now and ignored the heartbreak and yearning in his eyes.

And so, you closed your eyes.

“My apologies, I’m in a hurry so I’m afraid I have to get going. Farewell, Your Highness.”

Dimitri's eyes widened, trying to reach for your arm.

“(Y/n), please wait–”

But you were already gone.

“Hey there, (N/n)!”

It was only when you heard a familiar voice did you open your eyes again.

An attractive and familiar young man lazily leaned on one hand on your door, completely blocking your dorm room. “Are you gonna talk to me now, or are you just going to ignore me for the rest of the school year?”

He’s here.

You steeled yourself.

“Gautier…” You exhaled.

“Oof, “Gautier”, they said,” he frowned. “Not a single “I miss you, Sylvain”? No “gosh, sorry I didn’t talk to you for so long, I was just too shy to admit that I was wrong!”?”

You chuckled nervously.

“Perceptive as ever, I see.” But you weren’t wrong. Becoming a Golden Deer was the right path for you.

“Not perceptive, but hopeful really,” Sylvain shrugged. “Based on that reply, I’m glad my wishful thinking was spot on. You do miss me.”

“I do, but I now just realized I’m not prepared for this conversation,” you said, surprised by your upfront and composed anxiety. That talk with Dimitri seriously drained all the energy you garnered earlier. “Can we do this later?”

“No can do. I shall allow you passage if thee speaks from the heart,” he teased with his signature ladykiller grin. “Go on, say it~”

You sighed, burlesquely exasperated.

The two of you adore theater, so talks like these were commonplace. He’d mask his flaws when confessing sins in this manner, but you prefer to hear his real justifications. In any case, this is just another conquest for him to gad off and hunt some girls in another house— and your new professor is undoubtedly a sight to behold.

“Oh, Sylvain, mine dear friend, thou art missed for nearly half a decade, but mine fear did not condone myself to reach out.”

Like two birds of a feather, you also similarly mask your sentimentality.

Funny how you can easily say you miss Sylvain, but not Dimitri.

Sylvain smiled. Genuinely, this time.

“Good.”

The resolution was surprisingly fast. You were willing to bet you both anticipated a serious confrontation– a meeting that feels like a long-awaited class reunion after a war or so. But no.

The two of you are still flawed yet perceptive idiots after 4 years of not talking.

You both laughed in unison.

What were you worrying about anyway? You knew that at this point if Sylvain was angry at you for leaving, he should have grown tired of that emotion.

His primary grudge had always been the crest system, not you.

You should've had this talk earlier, he's the only one in the Blue Lions you were sure won't blame a crestless noble like you for those circumstances.

“Now move, Gautier.”

He stepped aside smugly.

…

You opened your mouth in surprised indignation.

“Why does my room look clean?”

“I had Mercedes help me clean it up the moment I took a look inside. Seriously, I can’t believe you managed to live in a complete pigsty—”

“It’s like you want to sour our reestablished friendship in under 5 minutes, Sylvie.”

“...”

“What? Too old to be called Sylvie nowadays?”

“No, keep calling me that,”

Sylvain never stopped smiling.

“Oh, and by the way? I miss you too, (N/n).”

“… There you are.”

As soon as Sylvain left the hall to your dorm, he was greeted by the sight of the crown prince lingering in front of the stairways. Unlike Sylvain, he was not leaning on anything while waiting. The prince stood straight, dignified.

Then again, Sylvain knew his royal motivations lie in jealousy— and that’s far from “dignified.”

Sylvain can tell from his stiff stance that Claude was particularly touchy-feely earlier, which was exactly why he requested Lorenz to relay the message instead rather than the house leader. His Highness must’ve seen how close you sat beside Raphael and then Claude. The Golden Deer's leader knew Dimitri was obsessed with you— he probably intended to provoke him for the upcoming Battle of Eagle and Lion. It didn't help that Dimitri had his eyes on you, always. If not him, then Dedue.

Not that Claude's scheme will work. Dimitri was satisfied just to see you smile, even when it pains him to acknowledge that it wasn’t for him or because of him.

Sylvain is an exception to that rule.

Dimitri had a cold glint in his azure eyes, but his gaze all but glared at Sylvain. He had a smidgen of control, for now. But it’s not long until what Sylvain had prophesied about the crown prince quipping a remark or two about staying away from you will occur.

“Waiting for me to explain my random decision, I’m guessing?”

“Oh, I simply liked standing here but sure, Sylvain! I’d dearly love to know the rational thought behind switching houses out of the blue. It is not as if Felix and Ingrid were worried about you,” Dimitri generously gave his princely smile.

Sometimes, Sylvain forgets it was physically possible for someone so austere with himself like Dimitri to say something laced with malicious sarcasm. But Sylvain knew Dimitri stood there because he was still worried about his friend, even when he pretends to be unbothered.

Like bread and butter, Dimitri and forced positivism complement each other disastrously well. The Blue Lions often caught him murmuring things like "I'm delighted (Y/n) is making new friends" or "I hope Claude continues to treat them well" despite having a glum expression on his face, obviously bottling up his envy. Felix finds it as easy as breathing to call him out on this behavior: "Why bother stalking them when you can't handle the envy you feel when they hugged Lorenz or held hands with Marianne? ”

His Highness never answered that question. He thinks had kept his feral thoughts at bay most of the time and will continue to do so.

Still… Raphael, Claude, and then Sylvain… Dimitri can’t catch a break.

Why do all these men keep approaching you?

Will you never recognize the perpetual anguish that befall him the moment you didn't reach for his hand and took Count Gloucester's that day? Have you no sympathy for the man that promised your protection— for the boy you trained and sneaked out when you thought the king wasn't looking? Whenever he wakes up the following morning without you, do you not experience the same emptiness and loneliness that he does?

Was it because he is a "troubled prince" nowadays?

Was it because he couldn't taste anything anymore?

Why did you eat saghert and cream with Ignatz instead of him at the cafeteria?

Why did these men have to ruin the one taste he can recall?

He lies awake every night to the sound of phantom screams from fallen soldiers, friends, and family against his hand-covered ears.

But you were his solace. His “God/dess”.

And just like with the Goddess Sothis, he lacked the means to grasp your hand...

If only his cold hands could wring those men's necks as well...

“... Do you really want to know, Your Highness?”

It took Dimitri a while before he snapped out of his trance. His voice dipped low, his breathing uneasy, and his eyes lacked focus.

Sylvain looked at him with pity Dimitri wished you spared him instead.

“Yes,” he exhaled. “It shall help our friends put their minds at ease.”

“Well, well, you're sure it's not because you'll miss me?”

“Sylvain.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll tell you,” Sylvain dreamily gazed up at the sky and boldly proclaimed:

“The new professor was hot.”

“Sylvain!—”

“Calm down, Your Highness! That was just a joke.”

Unlikely.

“I joined because (Y/n) is there.”

Dimitri froze.

The meaning behind those words could either be tolerable or impermissible enough to make the prince push Sylvain to the training grounds without remorse.

Sylvain’s not going to try and suddenly woo you now, will he?

You did grow more gorgeous after four years after all…

But Sylvain can't have you— Dimitri might just lose it. Out of everyone on campus, he refuses to let an adamant skirt-chaser take you.

“… Elaborate.”

“Elaborate? What’s there to elaborate?” Sylvain crossed his arms behind his back, now back to his laissez-faire attitude in life. He cackled to himself, absolutely unrepentant. “Is it bad that I want to reunite with an old friend? You know, before they were your friend, they were mine. Don’t forget that we’re both older than you, Dimitri.”

Multiple considerations led to why Sylvain chose to frolic with the deers rather than squander the school year at the lion’s den. One of these includes avoiding Ingrid’s nagging— he can’t be bothered having a pegasus pecking around while he galavants with (unfortunate) women.

But most of it boiled down to reunite with the one platonic relationship he missed.

Sylvain became Dimitri’s ally through you. Had you not approached Sylvain and Dimitri during one of King Lambert’s birthday celebrations, they wouldn’t have initiated a friendship through a children’s version of a bergamot tea party away from drunken nobility. More opportunities to befriend the prince would’ve likely presented themselves through Ingrid and Felix, but that memory of tiny cups and tea-stained shoes was special because it had you.

Because you were smart and kind enough to drag Sylvain out of his older brother’s schemes of public humiliation under the guise of being “invited” to an audience with royalty.

You were more of a sibling than Miklan ever was.

“By two years,” Dimitri stressed. “You’re only older than me by two years.”

“Your point? Doesn’t change the fact that compared to most students this year, we’re one of the older ones.”

He bit his bottom lip.

Age was one of Dimitri’s insecurities. It cannot be helped— if he were only older, people would’ve listened to his testimony for the people of Duscur more seriously— if he were only older, he would’ve had control over his uncle—

Dimitri’s knuckles grew white underneath his gloves.

If he were only older, then maybe you would’ve stayed by his side.

“What a lark. Are you attempting to compete on who had a better relationship with (Y/n)?”

“No, Your Highness, YOU are.”

Dimitri’s eyes widened. He hadn’t realized that those pointed words he spoke aimed towards himself like a misthrown javelin.

"Let’s be honest, Your Highness. I’m saying this as a friend, but you could be a bit tone-deaf and insufferable around them,” Sylvain deadpanned. “You had some serious attachment issues and you never listen when they tell you to stop with all those creepy comments about protecting them forever.”

“Is… Is that so?”

Dimitri muttered to himself while looking at his shoes, sounding almost broken. He had doubts, but Sylvain’s words practically cemented that you’d be unwilling to spend time with him again.

“Besides, if this were a competition, you lost the moment I waited at their dorm.”

The prince’s head snapped back up like a confused puppy.

“Why is that?”

What a horrible thing to ask.

“Because (Y/n) just told me that they missed me,” Sylvain smirked.

“And if you were there, you could’ve heard them call me Sylvie too, just like the good old days.”

Since that talk with Sylvain, Dimitri wanted to make you as lonely as him.

Oh, how he badly wanted to whisk you away from that house– oh just how much he wished he could force you to wear his cape– to wear the color of the lions.

But none of that matters now.

You look prettier when doused in splattered red.

The soil sipped the blood that drained from Ignatz's head. It reminded you of the time you asked the painter if he could use blood as a dye. If he were to watch this scene, he would've waxed poetic about how he will be simply returning his life to the earth, but the beauty of death is lost on you. The gravity of war weighed far more than the theatrics of what-he-would've-spoken.

It’s been five years since the war started.

You had lost your voice two years ago the moment Dimitri kidnapped you on your expedition to Garreg Mach— you’ve mistaken him for a bandit and in a blind rage, he dealt a massive blow to your neck. Dimitri didn’t mind that you had lost your ability to speak he seemed to relish that you’re similarly deformed. He romanticized both your disabilities often. A “God/dess” who couldn’t speak and a “boar” who couldn’t quite see. What a royal pair indeed…

You can’t say your prayers now, but you hoped thinking about praying for Ignatz was enough…

Ignatz should've turned 22 this year. Based on the way he last behaved, he didn't seem prepared for this war and had been misplaced by Professor Byleth.

You’ll never be able to eat saghert and cream with him again.

You can't remember what tactic you used in this battle. Was it Felix who was assigned to stick ten feet away from you who had slain Ignatz? Or was it Ingrid who rode her pegasus to stab the sniper in a suicidal fashion?

This entire battle is a blur. You can no longer stand straight and aim your sword reluctantly toward anyone.

Why can't everything go back to how it was before? Why can't you just fish at the Great Bridge of Myrddin with Uncle Erwin again?

You wobbled down the grass as a wyvern obstructed your view with its proud albino scales cruising the sky. Claude sits atop, his face stony through a nearly unrecognizable expression of placid anger. His emerald eyes inevitably met yours.

You didn't stand with your sword supporting you, and he didn't draw his bow either. Instead, before leaving to find the bright red target everyone called an "Emperor", Claude mouthed words that only you two could understand. You uttered nothing in response. Even if Claude were to succeed, his scheme would be futile.

Sylvain can’t save you from Dimitri.

Like a fairytale, it begins and ends with the crown prince. It always had.

But if Dimitri was the protagonist of this story, then pray tell, what does that make you?

A damsel in distress?

The king's court jester?

All you ever wanted was for House (L/n) to survive, to preserve your family name and dwindling territory against House Charon. You desired the opportunity to emulate your father. A fearless front-liner and a skilled tactician.

However, you have not taken any real action to end this war. You moved like a weak infantry, unable to maintain balance on one leg or call out for upcoming danger.

You just can’t run away from the lions anymore.

"Get up."

You couldn't move, mortified.

His Highness is back.

"I said GET UP!!!"

His iron-like hands yanked your hair up, and you felt some of it weeded out by his sheer brute force. You wept immediately but held back tears. Despite your commitment to keeping your composure, he had torn away what little hold you had left on what you call "stability." Your knees shook as his tall figure began to drag you away. Each step felt more jagged than the last. Your heart beat erratically as you worried about toppling down– and when you inevitably did, he was there to pick you up.

For Dimitri, this situation was advantageous. Most Golden Deers are here, which meant he had opportunities to route them all. He had already stabbed Ignatz, incessantly. Each draw of his lance— each crack of the artist’s glasses and bones— rejuvenated whatever youth war had stolen from him. The future king of lions couldn’t stop grinning maniacally as his eyes lay upon a deer’s corpse. It was as if his sense of taste was coming back. All of his soldiers and classmates were too terrified to stop his senseless slaughter. If Gustave did not scold him about the oncoming army, he would’ve continued damaging the corpse senselessly.

But it’s only a matter of time until he shoots for the leader of the herd as well.

He still hasn’t forgiven him for using his beloved against him back at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. This was the perfect opportunity for revenge. Once they’re out of the picture, then it’s only Edelgard left who he had to worry about— but until then, he’ll have to take the deers’ lives for stealing his beloved away.

Shame that Lorenz had yet to be found.

"Tch. Fool."

He cradled you like a bride but gripped your jaw like a hostage. Dimitri's current appearance is much too different from what he used to be. Sweat and blood had greased up his unruly hair, and the blue cloak that was slung over his shoulders was much dirtier.

"I command you to eat."

It was almost sweet. Almost kind when his voice softened for just a millisecond. Almost touching how his one eye gazed upon your sunken features with disdain.

But your appreciation for it all vanished the moment he robbed something from Ignatz's corpse.

"Eat."

He shoved onto you Ignatz's last bloody loaf of bread. It was hard, yet soaked.

Your throat couldn't express how terrified you were upon holding it.

"Gone deaf as well, have we?"

He pushed the bread closer to your chest, effectively crushing it against you. Dimitri breathed against your ear.

"I SAID: EAT.”

Your tears and Ignatz's blood salted your food.

The bread tasted just like the ones Raphael's family had in their inn.

Ignatz… He probably got this from Raphael… Which means he's in Gronder as well…

You sobbed as you took a feeble bite.

Please… Please be safe, Raphael.

Dimitri saw your struggle. He saw your continued concern for those who were after his life and yours. Why do you spare sympathy for the bodies that got in the way between you and him? They did not warrant those tears. The weak must fall— even he too will join them someday.

And so, Dimitri closed his eye.

You’ve gone fragile in his arms, and that was not spoken in a romantic sense. He had fractured your right leg enough to make you use your sword as a cane, yet he insists on dragging you in combat. Time and time again, he forces you to witness what he is capable of and more till you’re unable to write complaints.

Dimitri wanted to reassure you that you’re on the right side of history.

That you can cut a path beside him— you just weren’t trying hard enough before.

And it was a challenge the prince can’t easily scale. You never showed your appreciation for longer than a minute. When he learned how to dance begrudgingly with El after she had poisoned him with thoughts that he could use her teachings someday to dance with you— you dared to ask Sylvain out during the White Heron Cup. When he tried to give you a more fancy dagger as well during El’s parting, you admired Sylvain’s coincidental parcel of theater tickets and tea leaves instead.

Sylvain, Sylvain, Sylvain—

It was always Sylvain.

His entire body shook from laughter. You shriveled in fear as his voice echoed throughout the battlefield.

The beast put you down underneath a tree's shade that he deemed as safe.

… and kissed your forehead.

“I can see him approaching us.”

Dimitri cooed mockingly.

“Shall I decapitate and mount that filthy rat's head on a silver plate?”

You didn’t need to hear him utter his name to know he was referring to Sylvain. It was tempting to challenge him on how he could say such a thing about someone who had once been a friend, but that inquiry wouldn't help. Dimitri cupped your face and wiped your tears away with his rough and heavy hands. You flinch so easily nowadays.

How adorable.

Five years ago, you won't move a muscle whenever he kissed your forehead good night.

Five years ago, he worried about accidentally waking you up and exposing himself for breaking into your dorm so often just to drop his unhinged love letters.

Five years ago, watching you rest allowed moments of respite.

However, it didn’t invigorate him as much as your tears did now.

“Fret not, my fellow monster, I shall fetch it for you,”

He tightened his grip on his areadbhar, scanning the right field. The lance's crest stone glowed, and there was no looking back after that.

You’re here now, and he will NEVER let you leave. He won’t have a repeat of what had occurred when Count Gloucester was present around nine years ago or so. He’ll protect you this time, and it no longer mattered to him if he were a corpse or a monster in your eyes. It mattered not that he no longer slept. He intends to keep you alive and by his side, just like what he had promised in his childhood.

You can't even begin to imagine how much being away from you ruined him.

He had reached the point where he will kill everyone that tried to touch you, and he won’t have someone else do it, too.

Was this love or obsession? Likely both, if you were to ask Lady Rhea.

But what does Rhea know about Dimitri’s mental state anyways? She’s been missing for years now, she might as well be dead to you.

Without thinking, you grabbed his cloak. He patted your head but his eyes were locked on the cavalry unit from afar, and the dark and sinister smirk on his face solidified your fears.

Sylvain approached faster, and you did your best not to cry.

If he dares to fight Dimitri in the state he is now, then he might as well be a dead man walking too.

You wished you didn’t have to join the Golden Deer house— you wished Sylvain didn’t follow suit— and you wish you didn’t leave Sylvain behind. You did not doubt that if it hadn’t been for you, Dimitri would have concentrated only on Edelgard and joined forces with Claude to eliminate her. It would have given this historical period a more coordinated scheme. History won’t have to remember you as the catalyst that made things worse.

"(N/n)!"

You heard Sylvain yell from behind Dimitri, which only made your heart ache more.

It's been years since you last heard his voice again.

Dimitri took your warm hands and brushed his cheek against it, no matter how obvious it was that your eyes yearned for someone else’s touch.

He looked at you with such a soft gaze that you nearly forgot the monster he had become.

“Once we hang his head on our bedroom wall, you have no right to complain about missing “Sylvie” ever again, my beloved.”

[genvieveover]

🥧🍎🥁| HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HONAMI! (And to me technically)

I was so busy celebrating for my friend's bday who has the same birthday as Hona, my friend is very very like Hona but im supposed to talk abt hona now so happy birthday, beloved Leoni drummer!

[koritea]

Hey there! Your FFXV OCs are really cool! Could you tell us more about them? I love learning about fan ocs from this game :)

OHH GOSH HI!!!!! THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!! I have so much lore on all my ocs this game drives me INSANE.

To give a quick rundown of the main three:

Fidei Carissime (roughly translated "Beloved Faith" from Latin) is the pink haired axemen I frequently draw with the chocobros!

He's the epitome of the "Lost Prince" character trope. His mom died shortly after his birth and his father (the king of some unnamed far off kingdom) had him handed off to a poor family just on the coast of Cleigne.

Hard times and a rise in the local daemon population forced the family to move into Insomnia when Fidei was 7, but at age 8 his adoptive parents were killed by a daemon attack while on a trip outside the wall.

Fidei spent a few years in the system before an older teen by the name of Salus took him under his wing and introduced him to a group of kids looking to make lives for themselves without spending forever in the orphanage.

Years later Fidei gets into the same highschool as Prince Noctis on merit, and through Prompto he's introduced to the chocobros and eventually joins the retinue.

And yes, they kiss. I'm a silly OC x canon shipper don't be mad at me they're cute!!

Calor Solis (roughly translated "Warmth of the Sun" from Latin) is a Crownsguard stationed to train new Kingsglaive soldiers after a traumatic experience rendered them ineffective in combat. Under the guidance of Cor Leonis, they trained Libertus and Luche personally in hand-to-hand and close quarters.

Calor is all sunshine and smiles. He's got a friendly disposition no matter the circumstances and is always willing to lend a hand - but never take his kindness for weakness. He's highly skilled with daggers and close quarters combat, and once you pass the threshold of violence, you'd better pray they're feeling generous.

PTSD can make her flighty in some situations, but if her loved ones are in danger there's nothing she won't do to get them to safety.

Calor is genderfluid and swaps between nicknames (Cal, Lor, and Oli) to denote what they're feeling at any given time.

Chrysalis!! She's the newest and the least fleshed out of my OCs, but she's actually based around some lore and HCs surrounding The Crystal and Bahamut from the game itself!

To put it shortly: The Crystal is a prison Bahamut used to trap the original sixth astral, Chrysalis. During the time of Ardyn's mission to heal the sick of the starscourge, Chrys was the Oracle's main line of communication to the astrals. Sympathetic to their cause, Chrys often extended her own powers to grant healing and strength to the two when it was needed.

When Bahamut came, there was upset within the astral planes, and through an unknown power, he struck down Chrysalis and trapped her in an aetheryte crystal. Using her as a battery for power, he fueled his own prophecy and ordained that Ardyn would not be king, setting the game's plotline into motion.

At the end of the game, in an alternate turn of events, Noctis winds up shattering the crystal in his fight with Ardyn, and inadvertently frees Chrysalis.

With her and Ardyn's help, they defeat Bahamut and Chrsyalis frees the Lucii from the ring so they may rest in peace.

There are background OCs, crossovers with @joyfullyacat 's ocs, tons more lore and situations I've put these three in, but that's the gist of it!

[randomnameless]

What do you think about the take that there's no freedom of religion in Fodlan because there's a woman who worships a foreign deity in the abyss?

More or less the same thing than the take about Colonel Sanders being jailed in Garreg Mach because Rhea wants all those chicken tenders for herself.

More seriously,

Bar Claude speaking with his ass, and apparently Leonie being worried that the Church might be crossed with Claude mentionning he's not religious - even if in Leicester it's pretty much known far and wide that the nobles adopt a pious font for PR - I prefer believing the words of, you know, the CoS officials aka Rhea and Seteth on that matter, the CoS's doctrine - at least for the Central Church - doesn't forbid practice of other religions or faiths.

The Western Church being xenophobic most likely would be pissed at, say, random duscurian person worshiping Duscurian gods, but as for the central church? They, just, dgaf.

Now, in the Abyss, there's a pagan statue - from a Dagda deity per Shamir in Nopes! - and a woman praying there, who was apparently harassed for not following the Seiros faith.

But... if freedom of religion was banned :

1/how the fuck this 20 meters tall statue managed to be placed in Fodlan's Vatican's basement without anyone noticing

2/why Seteth and Rhea, when asked, said they don't impose the Seiros faith on people

3/why Leicesterians are allowed to be "pious for show" if religion was so important?

As always with Fodlan, we have some things told by several characters who are playable/talkable in the base game (tfw Seteth mentions how they don't force people to worship first in FEH, and then in Nopes, but nothing in FE16 + Cyril's supports that no one bothers to read because fig him I guess and ultimately they don't matter because Claude can't look like a clown in VW) and they are contradicted by either, flavor text, screening through various lines of hidden dialogue or, flat out, lines said in the gacha or the musou spin off.

Now, about that Dagdan woman, why was she in the Abyss, aka, a CoS shelter ?

Because she worships a different god and that's frowned upon by, uh, the very same church that shelters her? And this church gives her a place to worship her deity?

Or, if we take clues and connect dots from two astral planes, could it make more sense that this person ended up in the Abyss because she was Dagdan, and from Shamir's backstory we know Dagdans aren't that beloved by Fodlan people, after their multiple attempted invasions of Adrestia? Dagdan Woman must have looked for some shelter and found one - as for where or who put that statue here, I can't guess, but given how the Abyss is a place for people who cannot live at the surface without being picked on/harassed/threatened, I suppose the purpose of that statue being there was more in the lines of "as long as you're here if you want to worship your god you can do so" and less in the lines of "I'm so not tolerant at all that I will create a space in my holiest place where you can worship your god, because i hate other religions than my own".

If there is a general point to be made about "freedom of religion" in Fodlan, it's more about the lack of reliable (so, no Claude and his "I'll smash open the land and get rid of its backwards values unless I go to school") info about how tolerant the various countries that compose Fodlan are, and how some people from the CoS aren't on the same wavelength as Rhea and Seteth are.

Do they have some sort of responsability in this matter? Maybe in their hands-off approach to let the regional branches preach what they want or not adopt a stricter control on what is being taught but the game - and most likely that take - isn't bothered by all intricacies of how to conduct a faith/religion, otherwise I'd call a double standard over the CoS being BaD because they don't tell Father McRandom from Leicester to stop making randoms believe they can't have faith in other religion than the Seiros faith, but not calling out Ionius on not acting against Hanneman's brother in law when he fucked his wife so much that she died, or Lambert for Matthias keeping a kid as a hostage, or Claude's Uncle not frowning at Gloucester killing Raph's parents (the nopes retcon notwithstanding).

[flowerytale]

hey, i looove your blog! i want to read more italian authors, do you have any recs? 💖 i’m particularly interested in poetry but anything will do!! have a nice day 💖💖💖

Hi dear! Of course I have some recs! I'm currently re-reading Il Barone Rampante (The Baron in the Trees) from Italo Calvino, which is part of the "I Nostri Antenati" (Our Ancestors) trilogy. Then OF COURSE my beloved Elena Ferrante, Oriana Fallaci, Alessandro Baricco, Giacomo Leopardi, Elsa Morante, Luigi Pirandello, Stefania Auci (you can also find the show I Leoni di Sicilia - The Lions of Sicily on Disney+, which is based on her most know novel. But I haven't seen it yet, so I have no idea if it's a good adaptation lol), Michela Murgia, Cesare Pavese, Grazia Deledda, Primo Levi, Giovanni Verga, Ugo Foscolo, Niccolò Ammaniti. Also, special mention to Elisabetta Gnone and Elisabetta Dami my two of favorite children's book authors🫀