#praying I get the tags right

[melijiro]

When he reads in his little garden even though we got a huge farm together <3333

[bachirasbodyguard]

:x

[lovesickeros]

can.. can I ask for an affectionate reader with characters who aren’t normally like… used to the love? like, not just through words but physical affection like hand-holding, kisses, hugs, all that shebang. probably with a few people like yelan, ei, basically any character that is either cut-off from society or seems socially distant or isolated. 😞

☆ affectionate reader with yelan, ei, & furina

[ 4.2 Archon Quest spoilers ]

× yelan

Varies between how you display your affection, to be honest. Just like being affectionate with people? She's cool with it as long as you don't pop by while she's working (mostly because she'll end up dragging you into it for a bit of fun). I don't think she's all that touchy feely herself, but she'll absolutely get you gifts instead– like pretty knick nacks? She'll make sure to snag any she thinks you might like. Like a good meal? Sure, she'll take you out to one of the restaurants in the city, doesn't matter how expensive. Her treat. If you do prefer physical gifts rather then being taken out, you'll eventually get used to the random unmarked letters and packages showing up where your staying pretty often. It's obvious to know who it came from even if she never signs anything.

Flirty reader, though? Whole nother can of worms and now it's a challenge. The more confident you are the more interested she is. The other acolytes would absolutely seethe at the idea but she has no hesitation at just straight up flirting back– she's as charismatic as they come and she's got a poker face that's basically impenetrable. She'll probably also make a bet to see who cracks first (she always wins, unsurprisingly). Probably won't get dragged into any of her schemes this way but if you ask politely maybe she'll consider it, anyway.

The smell of freshly brewed tea and the clatter of dice across wood was a common sight at the Yanshang Teahouse– less common was the woman secluded in the far corner, her lips pulled into a grin that flashed fangs and a look that would scare off the most confident of men.

She'd normally try to scope out any new blood that'd made the mistake of stepping into her teahouse and was equally stupid enough to accept a gamble against her just for the thrill of it, but she was far too absorbed in the warm body at her side, one of her die clasped tightly in their hand as she guided them through the motions– they had a knack for it, she had to admit. The thought made her preen, the clatter of the die as it rolled across the table giving her that subtle, familiar rush.

Even if she knew exactly where it'd land.

"Six. Hm, maybe you're just lucky," She muses, plucking the die from the table and holding it up to her eye like a prized jewel, "Or maybe you're not as innocent as you'd have us believe." There's a sharp glint in her eyes at the prospect, but everyone else has the sense to keep their heads down and their words to themselves as she tosses the die herself.

"So why don't we find out and make a bet, just between you and me?"

× ei

Varies between Ei and the Shogun, because you'll probably be seeing either as much as the other. Sometimes you gotta really squint to tell who it is sometimes, but you get used to it. Both are fairly similar, though, in that their first instinct (especially in public) is to tense up like you're about to attack them or something. Difference is Ei eventually relaxes after a solid minute of trying to process your sudden affection and, if no one else is around, she might even reciprocate. Just don't tease her for being a little stiff and awkward about it, she's trying. That's what happens when your only company is a robot and uh. Nothing. For like 500 years. She's trying. Raiden, on the other hand, is just about as awkward as you can imagine. She's polite (blunt) about it because Ei is fond of you and also you are. The Creator. But she's not really built to deal with personal relationships and so she doesn't know how to deal with affection.

..Depending on what you do you may or may not blue screen Ei hard enough that she retreats back to PoE

Ei usually isn't fond of sitting still, unless it's to meditate. At least then she goes in with a purpose, something to achieve– but now, she's just focused on trying not to make a fool of herself. Her muscles are starting to ache from how hard she's tensing, though, in an effort to sit as straight and still as possible as their hands glide through her hair, weaving it into a single braid.

She can just barely hear the subtle lilt of their voice as they hum– and though it is soothing, it is also..very distracting. She can't focus long enough to try and meditate, too lost in the gentle rise and fall of their voice and the care they take to braid her hair. If she'd had a heart, she'd sure it'd be beating so wildly against her ribcage they could hear it.

But then it stops– their hands fall back to their sides and their humming falters. She freezes, too, racking her brain for any slights she must have committed. Instead, she is met with a calm, tender touch on the back of her neck, making her inhale sharply.

"Am I making you uncomfortable, Ei? You're so tense.." She has to grit her teeth to stop herself from bowing so low her head presses against the ground, her hands folded in her lap, clenching instinctively. "..No, Divine One." She answers simply, trying to contain the adoration swelling in her chest.

Yet as much as she tries to relax, to ease their worries, she finds that she cannot.

"Hm." That small murmur, a simple sound that nearly made her jump, was the only warning she got before they scooted closer, wrapping their arms around her stomach and resting their chin on her shoulder with a grin she would liken to Miko's, if she dared to make such a comparison. "Really?"

She swears she must've been feverish at the affection, lightheaded and dazed until she thought she might simply perish at the brush of their hands against her own.

Much to her embarrassment, however, she doesn't realize she's instinctively pulled back into Plane of Euthymia until she sees the familiar dull purples engulf her vision once again.

Though only a small solace, it seemed a little..brighter, this time.

× furina

Varies between pre 4.2 and post 4.2 archon quests to be honest.

Pre 4.2 she comes off as very vain– of course the most Divine would see fit to spoil her with affection! She deserves it, and is obviously their favorite! Just don't look too hard because she's terrible at hiding how flustered she actually is. Absolutely goes home right after and screams into her pillow for at least thirty minutes minimum.

Post 4.2 she's a lot more openly bashful and flustered. She's really not used to affection and even the smallest show of it has her folding immediately. Now that she doesn't need to worry about being found out she's a lot more receptive to affection. Cup her cheeks and compliment her and her knees are buckling. Like. Especially weak for compliments and praise (she deserves it. please spoil her).

She swears she must be hallucinating– she had been having trouble sleeping recently. But..no. The visage of the Creator was as real as the sweat beading on her brow as she stared at them for a long, awkward moment. Should..she let them in? But then they'd see the pathetic state she was in, and the last thing she wanted to do was make a fool of herself in front of them-!

Her choice was quickly made for her, anyway, as she let out an undignified squeak of surprise when they suddenly tugged her forward into their chest, enclosing her in a hug.

Her first reaction was to freeze– her second was becoming absolutely flustered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink and her mouth closing and opening as she tried to find her words.

"I– ah..um." She stumbled over her words instead, floundering like a fish out of water. Yet she felt a distinct sense of emptiness wash over her when they finally pulled back, looking a touch sheepish. "Sorry, sorry– you just looked like you needed a hug."

The silence spoke for itself, her shoulders tensing slightly. But the way the concern and affection bled through their voice made her waver, her hands trembling as she let out a shaky breath that almost sounded like a sigh.

"It's..It's fine! Fine, I'm fine." She repeated, trying desperately to ignored the way her voice cracked and how hot her face felt– though it was more an attempt to affirm herself that she was not thinking about how warm they felt, how much she..actually enjoyed the hug. She wasn't thinking about it all! Absolutely not!

..Maybe a little.

"Just warn me next time, please?"

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 61

Chapter; Highlights (okay the entire chapter is a highlight)🤣

As requested @mysterylilycheeta I NEED TO SQUEAL IN WYVERN FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW CAUSE OH M GOODNESS THIS CHAPTER ON SO MANY LEVELS I JUST AHAKWIHUHFEJLZXBKEKA

Agony was a song in Lorcan's blood, his bones, his breath.

Every step of the horse, every leap she made over body and debris, sent it ringing afresh. There was no end, no mercy from it. It was all he could do to keep in the saddle, to cling to consciousness.

To keep his arm around Elide.

She had come for him. Had found him, somehow, on this endless battlefield.

His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death had held him so gently, nestled beneath all those he'd felled, I, and waited for his last breaths.

And now, charging toward that too-distant keep, so far behind the droves of soldiers and riders racing for the gates, he wondered if these minutes would be his last. Her last.

She had come for him.

Lorcan managed to glance toward the dam on their right. Toward the ruk rider signaling that it was only a matter of minutes until it unleashed hell over the plain.

He didn't know how it had become weakened. Didn't care.

Still Elide kept urging the horse onward, kept them on as straight a path toward the distant keep as possible.

No ruk would come to sweep them up. No, his luck had been spent in surviving this long, in her finding him. His power would do nothing against that water.

The farthest lines of panicked soldiers appeared, and Farasha charged past them.

Elide let out a sob, and he followed the line of her sight.

To the keep gate, still open.

"Faster, Farasha!" She didn't hide the raw terror in her voice, the desperation.

Once the dam broke, it would take less than a minute for the tidal wave to reach them.

She had come for him. She had found him.

The world went quiet. The pain in his body faded into nothing. Into something secondary.

Lorcan slid his other arm around Elide, bringing his mouth close to her ear as he said, "You have to let me go."

Each word was gravelly, his voice strained nearly to the point of uselessness.

Elide didn't shift her focus from the keep ahead. "No."

That gentle quiet flowed around him, clearing the fog of pain and battle. "You have to. You have to, Elide. I'm too heavy-and without my weight, you might make it to the keep in time."

"No." The salt of her tears filled his nose.

Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself.

"I love you," he whispered in Elide's ear. "I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken." Her tears flowed past him in the wind. "And I will be with you ..." His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. "I will be with you always."

He was not frightened of what would come for him once he tumbled off the horse. He was not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching the keep.

So Lorcan kissed Elide's cheek again, allowed himself to breathe in her scent one last time. "I love you," he repeated, and began to withdraw his arms from around her waist.

Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any ruk.

"No."

There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel.

"No," she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth.

Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged.

If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him.

Together. They would either outrun this or die together.

"Elide-"

But Elide slammed her heels into the horse's sides.

Slammed her heels into the dark flank and screamed, "FLY, FARASHA." She cracked the reins. "FLY, FLY, FLY!"

And gods help her, that horse did.

As if the god that had crafted her filled the mare's lungs with his own breath, Farasha gave a surge of speed.

Faster than the wind. Faster than death.

Farasha cleared the first of the fleeing Darghan cavalry. Passed desperate horses and riders at an all-out gallop for the gates.

Her mighty heart did not falter, even when Lorcan knew it was raging to the point of bursting.

Less than a mile stood between them and the keep.

But a thunderous, groaning crack cleaved the world, echoing off the lake, the mountains.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that brave, unfaltering horse could do, as the dam ruptured.

Rowan made himself stand there, to watch the last moments of the Lady of Perranth and his former commander. It was all he could offer: witnessing their deaths, so he might tell the story to those he encountered. So they would not be forgotten.

The roaring of the oncoming wave became deafening, even from miles away.

Still Elide and Lorcan raced, Farasha passing horse after horse after horse.

Even up here, would they escape the wave's reach? Rowan dared to survey the battlements, to assess if he needed to get the others, needed to get Aelin, to higher ground.

But Aelin was not at his side.

She was not on the battlement at all.

Rowan's heart halted. Simply stopped beating as a ruddy-brown ruk dropped from the skies, spearing for the center of the plain.

Arcas, Borte's ruk. A golden-haired woman dangling from his talons.

Aelin. Aelin was—

Arcas neared the earth, talons splaying.

Aelin hit the ground, rolling, rolling, until she uncoiled to her feet.

Right in the path of that wave.

"Oh gods," Fenrys breathed, seeing her, too.

They all saw her.

The queen on the plain.

The endless wall of water surging for her.

The keep stones began shuddering. Rowan threw out a hand to brace himself, fear like nothing he had known ripping through him as Aelin lifted her arms above her head.

A pillar of fire shot up around her, lifting her hair with it.

The wave roared and roared for her, for the army behind her.

The shaking in the keep was not from the wave.

It was not from that wall of water at all.

Cracks formed in the earth, splintering across it. Spiderwebbing from Aelin.

"The hot springs," Chaol breathed. "The valley floor is full of veins into the earth itself."

Into the burning heart of the world.

The keep shook, more violently this time.

The pillar of fire sucked back into Aelin.

She held out a hand before her, her fist closed.

As if it would halt the wave in its tracks.

He knew then. Either as her mate or carranam, he knew.

"Three months," Rowan breathed.

The others stilled.

"Three months," he said again, his knees wobbling. "She's been making the descent into her power for three months."

Every day she had been with Maeve, bound in iron, she had gone deeper. And she had not tapped too far into that power since they'd freed her because she had kept making the plunge.

To gather up the full might of her magic.

Not for the Lock, not for Erawan.

But for Maeve's death blow.

A few weeks of descent had taken her powers to devastating levels. Three months of it

…

Holy gods. Holy rutting gods.

And when her fire hit the wall of water now towering over her, when they collided —

"GET DOWN!" Rowan bellowed, over the screaming waters. "GET DOWN NOW!"

His companions dropped to the stones, any within earshot doing the same.

Rowan plummeted into his power. Plummeted into it fast and hard, ripping out any remaining shred of magic.

Elide and Lorcan were still too far from the gates. Thousands of soldiers were still too far from the gates as the wave crested above them.

As Aelin opened her hand toward it.

Fire erupted.

Cobalt fire. The raging soul of a flame.

A tidal wave of it.

Taller than the raging waters, it blasted from her, flaring wide.

The wave slammed into it. And where water met a wall of fire, where a thousand years of confinement met three months of it, the world exploded.

Blistering steam, capable of melting flesh from bone, shot across the plain.

With a roar, Rowan threw all that remained of his magic toward the onslaught of steam, a wall of wind that shoved it toward the lake, the mountains.

Still the waters came, breaking against the flames that did not so much as yield an inch.

Maeve's death blow. Spent here, to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain.

Rowan gritted his teeth, panting against his fraying power. A burnout lurked, deadly close.

The raging wave threw itself over and over and over into the wall of flame.

Rowan didn't see if Elide and Lorcan made it into the keep. If the other soldiers and riders on the plain stopped to gape.

Princess Hasar said, rising beside him, "That power is no blessing."

"Tell that to your soldiers," Fenrys snarled, standing, too.

"I did not mean it that way," Hasar snipped, and awe was indeed stark on her face.

Rowan leaned against the battlements, panting hard as he fought to keep the lethal steam from flowing toward the army. As he cooled and sent it whisking away.

Solid hands slid under his arms, and then Fenrys and Gavriel were there, propping him up between them.

A minute passed. Then another.

The wave began to lower. Still the fire burned.

Rowan's head pounded, his mouth going dry.

Time slipped from him. A coppery tang filled his mouth.

The wave lowered farther, raging waters quieting. Then roaring turned to lapping, rapids into eddies.

Until the wall of flame began to lower, too. Tracking the waters down and down and down. Letting them seep into the cracks of the earth.

Rowan's knees buckled, but he held on to his magic long enough for the steam to lessen.

For it, too, to be calmed.

It filled the plain, turning the world into drifting mist. Blocking the view of the queen in its center.

Then silence. Utter silence.

Fire flickered through the mist, blue turning to gold and red. A muted, throbbing glow.

Rowan spat blood onto the battlement stones, his breath like shards of glass in his throat.

The glowing flames shrank, steam rippling past. Until there was only a slim pillar of fire, veiled in the mist-shrouded plain.

Not a pillar of fire.

But Aelin.

Glowing white-hot. As if she had given herself so wholly to the flame that she had become fire herself.

The Fire-Bringer someone whispered down the battlements.

The mist rippled and billowed, casting her into nothing but a glowing effigy.

The silence turned reverent.

A gentle wind from the north swept down. The veil of mist pulled back, and there she was.

She glowed from within. Glowed golden, tendrils of her hair floating on a phantom wind.

"Mala's Heir," Yrene breathed.

Down on the plain, Elide and Lorcan had halted.

The wind pushed away more of the drifting mist, clearing the land beyond Aelin.

And where that mighty, lethal wave had loomed, where death had charged toward them, nothing remained at all.

For three months, she had sung to the darkness and the flame, and they had sung back.

For three months, she had burrowed so deep inside her power that she had plundered undiscovered depths. While Maeve and Cairn had worked on her, she had delved. Never letting them know what she mined, what she gathered to her, day by day by day.

A death blow. One to wipe a dark queen from the earth forever.

She'd kept that power coiled in herself even after she'd been freed from the irons. Had struggled to keep it down these weeks, the strain enormous. Some days, it had been easier to barely speak. Some days, swaggering arrogance had been her key to ignoring it.

Yet when she had seen that wave, when she had seen Elide and Lorcan choosing death together, when she had seen the army that might save Terrasen, she'd known. She'd felt the fire sleeping under this city, and knew they had come here for a reason.

She had come here for this reason.

A river still flowed from the dam, harmless and small, wending toward the lake.

Nothing more.

Aelin lifted a glowing hand before her as blessed, cooling emptiness filled her at last.

Slowly, starting from her fingertips, the glow faded.

As if she were forged anew, forged back into her body.

Back into Aelin.

Clarity, sharp and crystal clear, filled its wake. As if she could see again, breathe again.

Inch by inch, the golden glow faded into skin and bone. Into a woman once more.

Already, a white-tailed hawk launched skyward.

But as the last of the glow faded, disappearing out through her toes, Aelin fell to her knees.

Fell to her knees in the utter silence of the world, and curled onto her side.

She had the vague sense of strong, familiar arms scooping her up. Of being carried onto a broad feathery back, still in those arms.

Of soaring through the skies, the last of the mist rippling away into the afternoon sun.

And then sweet darkness.

[moe-broey]

I hope you feel better soon!!! Telepathically blowing up covid with my mind.

Got a simpler ask this time. Think the Askr crew have any nicknames for each other? The idea occurred me because I thought it would be funny if the summoner never EVER refers to Veronica by her full name. It started as a bit to annoy her but naturally became part of their dynamic. I think this group of weirdos deserve more quirks like that with their dynamics with each other.

TBANK YOU...... I am actually starting to feel better now!!! It must have been your power.... or just the passage of time and lots of rest.

I did... WAY too much here and got really off topic and Moe did take over. I'm so sorry. I barely control that thang. But also!!! A lot of these ideas have lived in my mind for a long time now, I just never got around drawing them out! I'm. Gonna try and organize this the best I can, bc I have SO much to say and it all kinda flows into each other...

This will be one half comic collection, one half character analysis and headcanons. Ready... GO!

FIRST OF ALL. THAT IS SO FUNNY. AND SO REAL. I can ABSOLUTELY see Kiran doing this. If you're a responsible adult figure in a kid's life, no matter the context, you Have to find harmless ways to annoy them. You have to find the bit, and commit to it. Just, um... well under most circumstances, said kid doesn't wield magic and have a giant spikey crown (making for lethal headbutts). So just be careful out there. 🫡

As for Moe... it kind of lacks that quality. Always a bit too in its head, often floundering in one way or another. Moe tends to love at a distance, has a lot of trouble expressing it, and often decides, well. It's just not my place. It seems especially standoffish about Veronica... it can't help but see its younger self in her. In more ways than one. Ultimately, it would avoid giving her a nickname, as a show of respect (it knows she wouldn't like that). It will speak extremely affectionately and highly of her behind her back, but minds its place to her face.

The fun thing about Alfonse's name is that you can extrapolate one thousand variations of it. Which is exactly what Moe does once it gets comfortable with him. And given enough rapport, Alfonse will happily respond to every single one (... except Alfonso). Al is the most casual nickname, that doesn't turn any heads. Allie seems to be the most favored one! (By Moe, or by Alfonse....? Or by Alfonse, as a consequence of Moe's liking for it?)

Sharena's name lends itself well to nicknames too! But Moe seems to exclusively go for Shari. EXTREMELY EXCITED at this show of friendship, Sharena tried her best to return the favor... but it didn't quite stick!

(As a side note! I wish I could have drawn more interactions here... just them going in circles mirroring each other. And one panel that would have been so sweets and speaks to Moe's character... snippet from my notes:

[Both of them become crestfallen.

Moe perks up a little. "'s fine. You can jus' stick to Moe. It is the name I chose, after all." <- It says this with an air of pride]

But I worked too cramped and didn't have the space to include it! 🥲💔)

LASTLY. Okay I have something really specific going on in the back of my head, here. But Lif does not tolerate nicknames. At the first whiff of it, he's shooting it down. This isn't a case where you can playfully get on his nerves and maybe eventually with enough time he softens to it. No. He isn't just being a killjoy about it, either. He... has his reasons. Don't press it.

OKAY. GRABS MOE W A CANE AND YANKS IT OFFSTAGE. GET OUTTA HERE‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

-

PART 2 OF THIS POST. Just a liiiiittle analysis and some headcanons!!!!

First. Of course. Alfonse. This is my stance. I feel very strongly about this. But Alfonse is NOT the type who uses nicknames. He doesn't do petnames, either. He is a man of many adjectives and weird relationships with titles. What does this mean?

Alfonse will use a title to refer to someone, to keep his distance. Up until somewhere along the way he catches a snag and suddenly he's romanticizing the title. Now the title holds a Weight to it. An emotional significance. The title is now a term of endearment. Unless if it isn't. The title is used for exclusively practical reasons. The title is a show of respect, to honor the individual in question. It means nothing. It means Everything.

LIKE. LIKE. When he's not being Weird about titles (using a title to keep himself emotionally distant from the receptient), he's. Being Weird about titles (using them to express WHAT that person Is to him, what that means to him, and how he feels!!!!). ADD IN THE ADJECTIVES. He fucking LOVES to use adjectives in place of nicknames/petnames. He is just a wordy fella. You can even catch him getting silly with it, if the mood strikes him. WAY over the top, doing Way Too Much.

Off the top of my head I don't have many examples. They come to me in visions and are gone as soon as they came. But. My fellow associate. My brother in arms. My deeply valued and highly esteemed comrade. My cherished partner (... trusted partner, even). My dearly beloved friend. My friend. HEAVY emphasis on "My Friend". Somehow, that's like a declaration of love from him. Unless if it isn't. "My Friend" still carries SO much meaning to him, though.

Honestly writing this out I'm realizing Alfonse is just the king of taking words that mean something and then making them mean something else. Imbuing his own meaning to it, between the lines. Hiding behind it. HE IS ALSO. THE KING. OF PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY. Alfonse asks "Is anyone going to endlessly complicate the situation or" and doesn't wait for an answer.

ONE NOTE. Is how titles are used as formalities, and how he's also just always so ready to drop them. You kinda have to play this by ear, considering the context of the interaction... really, whether or not he uses a title, and How he uses that title, is extremely reflective of his current emotional state. Can be reflective of the stakes, and the nature of the relationship too. Like the many occasions where he first meets a Hero, and both decide to be on a first name basis fairly quickly. Then you have his whole "The Summoner" vs saying their name, deal. And then you have whatever I'm cooking, here.

AND. AND. DON'T MISS IT! THAT IS THE FINAL PIECE I NEGLECTED TO MENTION UNTIL NOW! NAMES!!!!! A person's name holds SO MUCH EMOTIONAL WEIGHT. TO HIM. When he calls someone by name, it Means something to him. Which to me, lends to the idea that he wouldn't come up with a nickname for someone, himself. If they standardly use a nickname, he'll probably use it. Then, you have the added intimacy of the full name. But to me. What makes the most sense for his character, is that he ascribes meaning to names and titles.

The ONE. "Petname" I will accept, from Alfonse. Is "My love". Because that does feel in-line with everything I've said here. It becomes something of a title, itself. But even then, when I play it out in my head, it's always said as part of something greater, building UP to something, instead of being the main goal??? Like. To me, forever and always. "My friend" will ALWAYS hold way more emotional weight. Anything with too much of a romantic connotation to it just falls flat, ESPECIALLY on its own. Like NO........ they're MORE than that..... it's More Complicated than that...... you can't just reduce them to something so clean-cut. Dare I say normative... <- guy who has problems and complexes voice

That is. VERY MUCH just how I personally feel. Because I have something wrong with me. I'm fucked up and evil. Sick and twisted, even. (... or possibly aromantic.) Moving on!

-

MY FINAL THOUGHT. Is how does all this factor in, between Alfonse and Sharena? Well! To be so real I got so distracted I think I'll just barely edit these notes. And give you some screenshots about it.

When talking to Sharena, he may call her "sister" or "my sister" as like. Terms of endearment. Which is ironic a bit, in how they do come off as a bit stilted and distant. I can also see him getting extra about it though... him calling her, "my sweet sister" / "my beloved sister" either in moments of vulnerability OR. Moments before disaster (VIOLENCE....). Also "my little sister" as a term of endearment...

Also! Supporting this idea, one canon instance where he simply calls her "sister":

And!!! Both Alfonse and Sharena do the "call your sibling by their title as a term of endearment" thing. Sharena's version is a little less stilted than Alfonse's, but still may come off as odd to someone not too familiar w them (her, often calling him "big brother". Many canon instances of this!)

IT'S A SITUATION OF. Well for one I think it would flow a lot better in Japanese tbh, where honorifics like that are not out of the ordinary, they're standard. Where at most it's just a bit of a childish way to refer to him, almost reads like a childhood nickname that stuck??? (I think it depends on what variation of it you use, too. I'm only a little bit familiar w it!). But the thing is. The other half of this thought. It's a situation of "No Normal Person Talks Like That" BUT. If a character DOES. That's noteworthy and says something about them. And I think this goes for both of them! It speaks to the strict and formal environment they were raised in. If Sharena ever had a nickname for Alfonse that wasn't "big brother", it's probably gone now.

Also... another odd thought.... this sort of absence and emotional distance between them (esp early on, also citing Dragalia Sharena "I never bonded with my brother in such a fashion" and the Rosado FBs). That's your Brother. That's what he is, so you call him that. He calls you by title. That's what you are, he acknowledges that. That's what ties you two together. It's supposed to mean something. I'm supposed to mean something, to you. You're supposed to mean something, to me. These titles are proof of that. The blood we share is a bond, in and of itself. Emphasize it enough and maybe we can manufacture something, here.

ACTUALLY.... AAUGHH.......... OKAY NOW I'M CONSIDERING PEONY. HOW THE CHANGELING TWIST FACTORS INTO THIS. BECAUSE. BECAUSE. It's SHOWN that Sharena/Peony has informal titles/nicknames for family on Triandra's side.

Their father wasn't Father (like Gustav), he was Papa. Triandra wasn't sister or big sister, she was sis.

Aaaand that's where my brain short-circuited, blew up caught on fire and charred to a crisp. Sad! But SURELY. This, and EVERYTHING ELSE. Might give some pointers...?

LIKE. MAYBE THE CONSENSUS HERE. Is maybe Sharena did have a nickname for Alfonse, and in general is more likely to use nicknames. Maybe at one point it was "corrected" out of her when it comes to Alfonse, and now it would feel unnatural to do so. Meanwhile, Alfonse never really had any nicknames for her, but always has and still does use her name with So Much emotional weight. Plus the titles and adjectives. The FOCAL THING. About the Askr siblings. Is that they both adore each other SO much, but neither really know how to express it. There is an undeniable emotional distance between them. I feel like, taking this angle with them... the stiltedness, the forcing of affection that's already there, just somehow out of reach or beyond their grasp. I think writing them like this captures that.

I'll. Leave you to decide where Anna fits into any of this. And anyone else. I'm down for the count. To dust.

FINAL FINAL DISCLAIMER. You can take any of this or leave it! These are just the things that run through my head, when I write The Character... I really hope this answered. Anything. At all. Parse through my scatterbrained visions boy...... GOOD LUCK 🫡👍 (AND THANK YOU!!!!! FOR THE ASK!!!!!!!! Enrichment...... much needed in these trying times......)

[spitedemon]

i really hope that ign article is kinda blowing things outta proportion, at least in terms of romance. to be clear, it is understandable to me that the inquisitor’s relationship with solas is going to matter in the grand scheme of things. solas is the thing tying rook and the inquisitor together, and whether you despise solas, love him, or are painfully indifferent toward him, he is an antagonist bioware has set up for this game. his decisions and actions are going to, and have already had, far-reaching effects on thedas. of course he is going to have a spotlight of his own. i’m not concerned with that.

in terms of solavellan though, like. again, i hope things are being blown out of proportion. bioware is clearly very proud of solavellan and loves their solavellan fans very much, and i’m glad solavellan people can expect a decent endgame after 10 years of waiting. but i will genuinely be so upset if every other inquisitor, every other romance path, gets demonstrably Less in comparison. female lavellan is one inquisitor among eight. solas is only romanceable by one specific type of inquisitor. if the rest of us are left with some throwaway “oh yeah we still write sometimes” lines regarding our romances i will be very disappointed. obviously we can’t know everything until the game comes out, but the fact that, in an article about why only three choices from inquisition are going to matter in veilguard, everything seems to round out into “solavellan fans are going to be pleased,” i’m left with a bad taste in my mouth.

[artificialdogs]

Kalos fans are finally winning after 10 long years im gonna cry

[whats-todays-hyperfixation]

fun fact about me, i go to catholic school and was hyperfixated on christanity as a whole for a while. fun fact two, whenver im in religion class all i can think of is hannigram fucking nasty yaoi style with a preist au hannibal

anyways might write a fic for that sometime just was thinking again

[acesknights]

So far I've sobbed 3 times and gone crazy over things in a span of five minutes but ALAS, WE THRIVE

[b4kuch1n]

frog documentation. frogcumentation

I think I mentioned a while back I'd post nibling frog momence after the gift's done given. which happened on the 2nd this month I just forgot lmao. anyways we can do it now. I used the boigameista pattern scaled up to four pieces of A4 print paper and decided to double deck it to a two layer thing, not unlike a pillow, for ease of washin. because it was gonna be gifted to a one year old child

took a long time and made a number of mistakes bc hand sewing makes me worse as a person but this guy was done in time for the birthday occasion and that's what matters. chose non-fuzzy fabrics for it because we live in a dense city in the tropics and from personal experience if I hug something made of fur I would explode. the original plan included felt patterns on its back for bonus textures for baby but that wouldn't stretch well along with the rest of the thing so had to hold that back. eventually we got this

zipper across its ass, the coat type of zipper bc I miscalculated when ordering. but it did have a shape and that's all that matters to me. will be a fun game for the baby to grow up and be severely misinformed about what a frog looks like

happy extremely late birthday to this thing also

[zahra-hydris]

BALDUR’S GATE 3 - TGA teaser [x]

[triglycercule]

dust should have one of those mini zen gardens with all the sand and the little rake you use to make patterns but instead of sand its monster dust. specifically dust of people he doesnt like. how calming and tranquil this is as he puts a mini bridge and rocks and tiny tree into the garden filled with what's basically the human equivalent of blood!

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Applying to an apartment with little income and terrible credit score, in hopes that they'll be desperate enough to take me

[silly-ehggy]

GUESS WHO FUCKING FINISHED READING FMA!!!!!!!!! (images in order of newest to oldest drawing (except the second and third onez cuz they were connected) btw cuz I nevr posted a lot of them)

(Plz read my pinned b4 interacting!!! :3)

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Today something inconsequential happened. My instinct was to cry about it in the bathroom, but I said "No! this is a stupid thing you aren't even upset about! Why would you cry over that?" and I was like "you are absolutely right. It's not worth crying over!"

I then proceeded to cry for half an hour about being so emotional.

[boygirlctommy]

ive decided that andoras almost always has crazy makeup and wigs on simply bcus its fun for him. and everin doesnt see him without any of it on until after the birthday party debacle and loses it slightly bcus she thought that was his real hair the whole time wdym youre BALD (hes not bald his hair is just short)