#Still had it set in his heart to fight for Plegia

[childofaura]

Look, I love the opportunities that Forging Bonds presents in giving us more content and character interactions for our favorite characters. I love seeing characters interacting from different installments, it’s great.

But holy crap, I’m starting to see a negative effect from the Forging Bonds giving us the same character depictions over and over without showing the more interesting aspects of a character.

Like look at poor Balthus. He’s got a hefty amount of lore; a man on the run because his mother was exiled for being a commoner and his step-mother is absolutely horrid. Even though his manners are loose, his code of honor is unbreakable and he refuses any kind of compensation for trying to do a good deed from the heart. He’d probably have some really good conversations with characters like Corrin, Saber, Jesse (IF HE EVER GETS ADDED), Joshua, etc. He’s crass and loud and rambunctious but he’s a genuine sweetheart who protects the people he cares about, and he cares about a LOT of people.

Instead all we get is “haha funny gambling man gets slapped around by everyone” (Don’t think I forgot about that Malice Forging Bonds, IS. See if people would still be laughing if a male character grabbed a female character by the ear and twisted their neck in doing so). And it’s not just Balthus, all the subplots with the Heavy Plate Corps and the CHOP stuff (or Team Horny, with everyone like Laslow, Soleil, Gatrie, etc), while I get it’s there for comedy, really end up shoehorning these characters into perpetual comic relief. I’m scared for when characters like Vaike or Jesse (SERIOUSLY IS, I GET THAT YOU’RE RUNNING OUT OF VALENTIA CHARACTERS BUT. JESSE.) get added that we won’t see any kind of meaningful dialogue with other characters. It seems like they reserve the best interactions for fan-favorites only.

[yukiwrites]

A New Chapter

Thank you for the support as always, @breeachuu! I hope you like the pilogue for Wolfie's story~ Watch out ye who reads, for the sin!

Summary: With the end of the war, it was time to bring in a new beginning. With Caspar by his side, Wolfie now had only the future to look forward to, a future alongside the one he loved and the family he had left behind to fulfill his mission...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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The end of the war.

Surely there was not one person who felt the same about the outcome of the almost six years long war. Some were overjoyed, some had lingering regrets, some even felt bitter at the destruction that it had left in its wake.

It did not feel real for the first few hours after the defeat of the emperor. What happened after a war? What did the living do during times of peace? War scarred people in a way that made them forget how it was to simply live.

Wolfram had heard from his siblings that the end of their fighting left a bitter taste in their mouths, especially due to the destruction of their original world. Since a long time had passed after the end of the first Plegia-Ylisse war, Wolfram never heard about how Chrom hadn’t felt happy after dealing with the Mad King. Basilio, at that time, had said that victory could be bitter as well as sweet, though there was no way for Wolfie to know that.

To him, the end of the war carried the sweetest of tastes. It carried the taste of his blossoming love for Caspar, as well as the end of his lonely days.

The end of the fighting, which Wolfram grew to despise. Hearing about the hopeless battles his siblings had to go through made him wary enough of any fights -- and having to participate in a war at all was enough to make Wolfie want to distance himself from such things as much as he could.

Thus, Wolfram was overjoyed with the end of the war. There would be no more fights in his near future, nor would he need to worry to look over his shoulder in order to keep a secret he never wanted to hide in the first place.

This end meant a new beginning to Wolfie. It was the dawn of a new chapter of his long, long life -- this time, accompanied by his beloved Caspar.

Even though they hadn’t actually made any plans for the future, Wolfram took the trip back home with Caspar as a given, while they walked around camp hand in hand.

Most of the classmates from Garreg Mach still had many issues to resolve -- some would need to return to their estates right away while others wanted to help with the war relief. That was especially the case for those who still saw byleth as the guiding hand that had helped decide the outcome of their lives, so some of them even proclaimed to stay by her side for as long as they could.

Dimitri would be crowned King of the new Unified Fódlan, so he would need all the help he could get -- now especially that he and Byleth would unite through marriage and run both the political and religious sides of Fódlan together.

Wolfie would be lying if he said he was surprised by the fact that there was something going on between Dimitri and Byleth -- he had seen how deep their bond had been since five years ago, so being witness to their love brought him overflowing warmth that fell through his eyes.

He had embraced both the future King and the Professor with warm tears on his cheeks, laughing happily at how there were many new, hopeful chapters being opened with him at the center. He truly couldn’t contain his happiness at how despite witnessing the end of an Empire, that also meant that he was looking at the birth of a great Kingdom from the closest seat possible.

That made Wolfram more emotional than he could handle, even while being sometimes surprised by Caspar’s sudden pecks at his lips -- which, if Wolfie was being frank, were dangerous to his heart’s health. He didn’t know if he would faint from palpitations from Caspar’s rough sneak attacks or from his heart bursting with happiness.

The half-manakete could barely sleep during the march back to the monastery, taking it upon himself to stretch his wings every single night. The cold air felt good in his permanently-red cheeks -- now that he and Caspar had shared their feelings, sleeping beside his boyfriend in a tent full of other people made Wolfram hot and bothered -- so he welcomed the moonlight in high spirits.

Besides, the hair that Caspar had given him still weighed deeply inside Wolfram’s pocket. Now, more than ever, he wanted to make that jewel with these feelings into his fire. The joy of the war’s ending. The happiness of being reciprocated in his love. The longing he felt to be back home, with his family.

The anticipation of presenting his boyfriend to the family of immortals.

He had so many things he could pour into his fire that he wanted the moon to be full, already!

… However, he would probably not be able to make the jewel in Fódlan. The time allotted for him to complete his mission was nearly at its end, so he would most likely hear from Naga soon, regarding the portal to return to Ylisse.

It made him a bit lonely to have to make the jewel far from where he first met Caspar -- far from Caspar’s homeworld, as well -- but it also brought him a bit of giddiness. It meant that he could make the jewel that was so important to his kind, back in the world that had raised him into what he was today.

It all held a special meaning to the half-manakete.

The night before they arrived at the monastery, Caspar was lying down on his back with both hands behind his head, staring at the top of the tent with a content smirk. Seeing and appreciating this, Wolfie, who lay on the side so he could take a better look at his boyfriend, sighed happily.

“Do you have something in mind?” He whispered, careful not to wake up his fellow soldiers.

“Nah.” Caspar replied immediately. “I was just thinking that being with you is really a blast.”

Wolfram sputtered, choking on saliva. He dug his face under the blanket to muffle his coughs, feeling Caspar’s arm from outside the covers to bring him closer.

His coughing fit stopped almost immediately, being replaced by a very much red face inside the custom-made Wolfram package, inside the blanket. “I love being with you, too.”

“Yeah.” Caspar nodded, looking up as though he could see the night sky.

After a few moments of silence, Wolfie popped his head out of the blanket, looking at Caspar with his thin eyes. “You remember I told you about my mission, right? And how I had to go back after a set amount of time?”

Caspar moved his head to look at Wolfram, who was snuggling on his chest. “Yeah?”

“The time is, um, almost up. I never actually asked if you wanted to come back home with me, since I took it for granted, but I was wondering if you didn’t have anything to do back here-”

“No way, man, I’m not letting you leave.” Caspar cut Wolfie off, speaking so matter-of-factly that it made the taller boy blush. “We’re going together, wherever it is. I don’t really have anything holding me down anywhere.”

Wolfram’s eyes sparkled, his cheeks so red he almost forgot how to breathe. “... You’re so cool.” He whispered before digging his face into Caspar’s well-defined chest.

“Hehe,” Caspar snorted proudly. “Aren’t I?”

Wolfram simply giggled in response, snuggling into Caspar as if he were a little cat and not someone who towered over his boyfriend for a good many inches.

Once they were back at the monastery; back at a place that made all of them instinctively think of being productive, those who chose to return with Byleth and Dimitri started to get ready to work.

For some reason, Wolfie was captured by Dorothea on the afternoon of their arrival, completely unprompted. He had told her about his relationship with Caspar during the march back, but since there were many things to do and many miles to cover, there wasn’t much time for talking and gossiping. So, once back at a familiar place, Dorothea dragged Wolfie into her room, finding that there was another guest in there, as well.

“Eh? Ah, hi there, Yuri.” Wolfie greeted, with one arm still hostage to Dorothea’s grasp. He bowed awkwardly, as he hadn’t had much time to get acquainted with the beautiful man during their short interactions within the army.

Yuri simply crossed his arms and looked at Wolfram from top to bottom, then directed his gaze, under the beautifully long eyelashes, to Dorothea. “So you’re gonna have me explain it all in detail, yeah? The kid looks so pure…”

The songstress giggled, her melodious laugh stealing a smile from Wolfie even as he was confused with this situation. “I figured you’d know better how to talk about these things than me.”

“Well, you’re right about that.” Yuri smirked, his beautiful face making Wolfram nervous for some reason. Yuri then reached for something inside his cloak, directing it to Wolfie once he got it.

It was a vial small enough to fit into one palm. Receiving the tiny bottle, Wolfram tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Um…?”

Yuri snorted, almost laughing loudly. “Sit down, kid. I’m gonna give you a tutorial on how to take it up to your-”

“ALRIGHT, perhaps I should still remain to filter out the language, yes?” Dorothea placed a teacup with a loud clunk in front of Yuri, deafening the improper words he was about to utter. Still confused out of his mind, Wolfram sat down on the table as Dorothea organized it as though they were going to have a tea party for three.

Once their eyes met, Dorothea winked to Wolfram.

“Remember what I told you about taking the initiative?” She explained, making him open his mouth to reply.

But before he could even nod, Yuri interrupted. “So, I’m here to tell you how to take things to the next level.”

“Next-” Wolfram repeated the word without understanding it at first, but then realization sunk in like a slap on the face -- making his cheeks, neck and ears flush with a vibrant red. “Ah.”

Finding the reaction refreshing, Yuri threw his head back in laughter as Dorothea slapped him while at the same time holding Wolfram’s hand. It would prove to be a very… informative afternoon.

Wolfram didn’t even know how he managed to walk from Dorothea’s room to the dining hall once it was time for dinner. His entire body was still, his face was so red he thought they could mistake him for a tomato and cook him and there were some… graphic images imprinted into his mind.

He kept remembering the glimpses he took of Caspar’s body whenever they trained or bathed together -- and that made his own body fire up in response. He felt so dirty and embarrassed, but at the same time excited and expectant.

However, he wasn’t confident in being able to do the… well, things that Yuri had hammered into his head throughout the afternoon. It was all so overwhelming.

Yuri had even instructed him on how to start the intercourse in a natural manner, but- it was impossible! Wolfram didn’t even know if he was chewing on food or someone else’s hair at that moment, let alone be able to keep his cool enough to- to!!!

“Yo there, Wolf! Where have you been the whole day, man?” Caspar slapped Wolfram’s back, sitting right beside him with his tray of food, which made the half-manakete choke with whatever he had swallowed and bend his body forward. “Whoa, howa, you okay? Hey!” Caspar slapped Wolfie’s back with more and more strength, as though hitting someone on the back was a sure fire way of helping them with a coughing fit.

It only made Wolfram’s back sore, though the reason for his nervousness was right there beside him, with a warm hand on his shoulder.

“I-I’m, ack,” he cleared his throat, “I’m fine now, thanks, Caspar.”

Wearing a proud smile, Caspar nodded, finally turning his attention to his food. “No prob.” He said with a wide smile, downing the food that probably amounted to three times what Wolfie was eating in a speed that didn’t feel that belonged to a human. “Oh yeah, our room is still ours, they said! We can stay there till we leave for your world.” Caspar mentioned in passing, but that only made Wolfram almost choke again.

‘Our room.’

Wolfie hid his face between his hands, pressing his lips into a thin line in embarrassment. “I-I see! That’s great, nyahah…!” Wolfram stammered, but Caspar simply took it at face value and nodded happily with a mouth full of food.

… It would be the first time that they would sleep alone in the same room after becoming a couple, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary for Caspar, so Wolfram knew that he had to follow at least one of the pieces of advice he had learned earlier today.

If he didn’t act, nothing would happen.

Still, that didn’t mean that it was easy. He could barely see in front of him due to how nervous he was just to climb up the stairs to their quarters.

Hehe. ‘Their quarters’. Hehe.

“Ahem,” Wolfie cleared his throat as though he hadn’t just smiled inside his head, closing his eyes to be able to calm himself down. They arrived soon enough, as the route was well ingrained into their bodies.

Once inside, Caspar immediately crashed onto the bed, then looked up at the fidgeting Wolfram, who was planted in the middle of the room without a clear action to take.

Blinking, the shorter man looked to his boyfriend, then to the pile of luggage by the side, then back at his boyfriend and something lit up in his head. “OH yeah! Now we don’t need to sleep on separate beds, yeah? This bed’s big, so it’ll fit the two of us just fine.”

Wolfram swore he could actually hear his head exploding.

“We- um, sleep?”

“Yeah?” Caspar nodded with a question in his gaze. “We were basically sharing one sleeping bag anyway, so this bed’ll do just fine, doncha think?”

Of course.

Of course, of course, of course.

Caspar wasn’t thinking of ‘that’. He was just truly and literally talking about purely sleeping together.

Hiding his face with both hands, Wolfram took two steps towards the bed and sat besides his clueless, stupid and wonderful boyfriend. “Caspar…”

“Muh?” Caspar was looking at the dresser, thinking that he should probably change to his pajamas soon, before turning back to face Wolfram -- or at least Wolfram’s hands that covered his face.

“Fwooo… hahh…” Wolfram took deep breaths before sliding his hands down. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Caspar frowned deeply, “get what?”

“What… what do couples…” Wolfram choked on the words, looking down to their touching knees. “What do couples do when they sleep together?”

If one were to explain the expression on Caspar’s face, it would be something akin to ‘lag’. It was like the midway of an expression -- like he was in the middle of doing something, but froze like that for a few moments.

“OOOH, YEAH MAN, wow that was dumb.” He placed one fist on his open palm as though making the discovery of the century, not realizing that he was repeating basically word for word what he had said after Wolfram first kissed him, back in Enbarr. “I never done it before, though, so it’s gonna be a shot in the dark.” He cocked his neck to the side in a way that made Wolfie’s legs tremble -- and if he wasn’t already seated, he would lose strength in them.

Being the gung-ho person that he was, Caspar already went for the attack, 100% ready to just give it a shot at this thing he had no experience on, leaning close to Wolfram to insert his tongue into his boyfriend’s lips.

“Mmpph..!” Surprised out of his mind, Wolfram widened his thin eyes, being pushed down on the bed by his eager boyfriend. He was ashamed to say that that neck cocking Caspar had done and the way his eyes looked almost savage before they kissed made a mess inside Wolfram’s mind. He even felt the heat circle around his pants, ready to push up excitement. “W-wait, wait-” Wolfram managed to plead as his head reached the pillow, completely robbed of his breath.

“Yeah?” Caspar huffed as well, his lips moist and slightly swollen from the roughness of their kiss.

“A-a friend with experience told me how to do this,” Wolfram stuttered, reaching for the vial he had hidden inside his pant’s pocket. “And he said that we can use this.”

“Muh?” Caspar sat back down, giving Wolfram the space to sit as well, as he examined the bottle. “What’s this for?”

“Um,” Wolfram’s face was burning hot, but he had to say this, at least now. From what he noticed from this short relationship he had with Caspar, Wolfram only had to take the initiative once. Then, Caspar would know what to do for later. “I heard that it’s, ah, um… hard to put it in when it’s between men.”

“Really?” Caspar frowned, still trying to discern what was inside the bottle. He popped the lid open and smelled it, but apart from the smell of herbs, there wasn’t much to go about it.

“Y-yeah, so I got this to, um… help… the way in.” Wolfram gestured to Caspar to give the vial back, which he did with a confused face. Wolfie then tilted the vial a bit, making a drop of a thick oil drip on his finger. “It’s to rub around and inside and, um…”

“Oh, I put this around my dick? So it’ll slide in?” Caspar took Wolfram’s hand to smell the oil again, then looked down at his pants.

Unfortunately, Wolfram followed his boyfriend’s gaze, meeting a half-erect bulge inside Caspar’s pants. It made Wolfie gulp and let out a small moan without realizing.

In a daze, it took Wolfie a few more moments to remember where the conversation had stopped. “N-no, it’s actually to… but inside… me…” His voice got weaker and weaker as he lowered his head with embarrassment. He mumbled something about two or three fingers, but Caspar didn’t catch all of that.

“Seems complicated. But alright, wanna try it?” Caspar asked, already taking off his shirt. Flustered with the sight of his boyfriend’s bare skin, Wolfie averted his gaze.

“Eh? Um, just like that?”

“Well, yeah. The sooner we get the hang of it, the better, right? C’mon,” Caspar nudged the hem of Wolfram’s bareback turtleneck, pulling it over his head with a swiftness one usually wouldn’t expect from him.

Bashful, Wolfram held onto the vial as though it was his salvation or something, as Caspar got up to take off his pants. Watching the spectacle made Wolfram feel something poking inside his own pants, as he was unable to take his eyes off of Caspar’s half-erect manhood.

Gulping, Wolfram didn’t realize Caspar pulled him up as well, only noticing what was going on once he felt hands pulling his pants down. “W-wait, um-”

“You don’t want it? But you’re hard, too.” Caspar poked at the head, making Wolfram shiver as hold back a hot sigh.

“I-I’m nervous, okay! I’m-” Wolfie complained, sitting back on the bed under Caspar’s strong arms.

“You think it’ll hurt? I don’t wanna stick it in you and hurt you.” Caspar pouted, not realizing his erection had fully grown during their talk. Seeing Wolfram’s white, glistening skin and slightly trembling shoulders made something crack inside of him for some reason. Even his dick looked cute to the point of Caspar wanting to touch it if only to see how Wolfie would react to it.

Of course, Wolfram was worried about the pain, too, but more than anything, he was just embarrassed in general. He had never even touched himself before, so this was truly the first time he even entertained such lewd thoughts. It was a bit overwhelming.

Seeing the hesitation in his boyfriend’s actions, Caspar pulled Wolfie closer, making Wolfram’s legs go around Caspar’s hips as they sat in front of one another -- with their erections touching each other in the middle.

“If you don’t wanna, I’m just gonna get this resolved for us, aight?” Practical as always, Caspar held both of their cocks with his hand, rubbing them together as he moved up and down.

Wolfram let out an ‘eek’, followed by a muffled moan, while his entire body flinched with the sudden wave of pleasure.

The noise made something else crack inside Caspar’s mind. He blinked, licking his lower lips as though he wanted to eat Wolfram all up and took his eyes away from their joined erections towards Wolfram’s face.

He was so adorable. “What the hell, you’re so cute.” Caspar cursed, pulling Wolfram for a kiss as his hand between them moved. He felt Wolfie’s tongue and body tremble, which fired him up even more. Once they parted, huffing hot air between them, Caspar placed his forehead on Wolfram’s. “Actually, can I go back on that? I wanna put it in so bad.”

Drunk with the pleasure from only Caspar’s hand and rough kisses, Wolfram dazedly nodded, not realizing he pulled his boyfriend down so he could be on top of himself. “Y-you can.”

“... hot!” Caspar huffed before digging into Wolfram’s lips once more, moving his hand a little bit faster if only to feel Wolfram tremble under him.

“A-ah…” Wolfie gasped a moan once their lips parted, feeling his body tremble with a premature ejaculation. He felt hot and relaxed at the same time, his fluids shooting up to his and Caspar’s chests. It wasn’t unnatural -- after all, it was the first time Wolfram had ever touched himself (or had someone do so).

Caspar thought it was even hotter now that he saw how good Wolfram felt, already wanting to shove it in as he prodded into Wolfram’s bottom.

“W-wait, the oil…” Wolfram opened his palm to give the vial to Caspar.

“How much do I put?” Caspar adjusted himself in a better position to penetrate, holding Wolfram’s legs on either side of his body.

Biting his lips, Wolfram didn’t notice he rocked his hips right on Caspar’s erection. “Three fingers… once three fingers are in, you can put it in… It’s what I heard.”

“What? But my dick’s larger than just three fingers.” Caspar mentioned shamelessly, making Wolfram press his mouth shut and squeeze his eyes with anticipation.

“I heard it’s awkward and difficult to position the hand with more than three fingers inside, so those are enough to ‘open a path’.” He rolled his head to the sides, speaking as though in a trance as he remembered the earlier talk.

Caspar shrugged. “Alright.” He replied, coating his fingers with the warm oil before teasing them around Wolfram’s bottom.

His touch was rough and clumsy, but whenever he hit a sweet spot, it made Wolfram’s whole body shiver with pleasure, which in turn spurred him to try harder into ‘loosening’ his boyfriend so he could put it in.

Each time a new finger went inside, Wolfram’s body heated up more. He felt feverish, in a way that made him want to succumb to the heat instead of finding something to cool him off.

He barely held enough consciousness to muffle his moans, but the longer he was stimulated, the looser his lips became; letting out countless of hot and stammering breaths.

More and more did Caspar hear cracking sounds inside of himself. What the hell, how was his boyfriend so cute? How? That voice? That glistening skin? That body that clenched around his fingers…

He wanted more. Goddess, he wanted so much more.

Caspar muttered something about reaching the three fingers and once again prodded his erection at Wolfram’s bottom, feeling the tip slide in much easier than before. He gritted his teeth and pushed it in, feeling enough resistance to make him squeeze his eyes, but enough warmth that made him want to stay inside forever.

Wolfram stretched out a long moan as Caspar slid it all in, feeling like there were tiny firecrackers all around his body; exploding each in a different way, making him tremble with pleasure the moment their bodies conjoined.

“Haah, hah… This feels so good.” Caspar panted, struggling to pull it out so he could shove it in, feeling Wolfram stretch himself to accommodate him. Caspar even felt stupid for not thinking of this before -- it felt this good and he only remembered it existed because Wolfram mentioned it?

Never again he would forget how good it felt to be inside the man he loved.

Wolfram felt that he was close to the climax again, with only the first insertion -- and it soon became reality. He covered his face with both arms as his entire body shook with pleasure; but Caspar was only getting started.

The spasms from the orgasm only spurred Caspar on -- with each thrust, his way became more comfortable inside Wolfram, and with each thrust, the heat enveloped them further. Wolfie’s mind was a mess -- he didn’t even remember how many times he came anymore, to the point that he could only focus on the thick rod inside of him, going in and out… in and out.

It felt so good.

By the gods, it felt so good! He cried tears of pleasure as Caspar accelerated his movements, onto the road of the climax himself.

As though ordained, Wolfram felt the blanket of pleasure cover him once again, now at the same time as Caspar, as his seeds shot inside Wolfram with a loud and deep groan.

Huffing, Caspar fell on top of Wolfram’s chest, his entire body tingling in the best way he had ever felt. “What… the hell,” he gasped, resting his face on his boyfriend’s neck for a beat. “This was amazing.”

“Y-yes… yes…” Wolfram nodded, exhausted, unable to continue the conversation as his heavy eyelids closed, his whole body protesting. “I love you, Caspar…”

“I love you too, Wolf.” Caspar nodded, still wanting to stay inside Wolfram for a moment, only realizing a few moments later that Wolfie had fallen asleep.

Wolfram felt his entire body aching once he opened his eyes. “Ouch, ouch…” He groaned, reaching for his lower back. He found himself inside Caspar’s arms, despite it feeling like late morning.

“You okay? Did it hurt?”

Before replying, Wolfram wanted to ask why Caspar hadn’t gone to training, but his mind was too much focused on how sore everywhere else was. In truth, Caspar woke up at dawn as it was his custom, but for some reason, he didn’t want to go train. He wanted to stay with his man a while longer, so he just hung out in bed, snuggling his tall boyfriend into his chest.

“It… didn’t, but now I’m all sore. Ugh.” Wolfie groaned, closing his eyes to check himself out.

“Huh. So we won’t be able to do it everyday. Got it.” Caspar nodded matter-of-factly, making Wolfram immediately blush.

“Wha- hu- every day…?”

“Yeah, no? If you’re like this today, we can’t do it again tonight. You think you’ll be good by tomorrow?”

“C-Caspar!” Wolfram nudged his boyfriend with an accusing tone, but the other man seemed serious.

“Muh? What? We’re doing it anyway, right?”

“...” Wolfie lowered his gaze, then dug his face into Caspar’s bare chest. “... yes.”

“Haha, yes!” Caspar celebrated, squeezing his boyfriend in a tight hug before receiving groans of protest. “Whoops, my bad.”

“Heehee,” Wolfram giggled, closing his eyes again to drift into a comfortable sleep; safe in his beloved’s arms.

There was fog, once Wolfram became conscious of himself. It was so foggy he wasn’t able to see his own hand in front of himself. Frowning, the half-manakete looked around him, trying to pull out the last of his memories before he ended up in this place.

Soon enough, he came up with the answer. “Ah, this is a dream.”

“Indeed, child.” A Holy voice echoed from below and above; from all sides and from within Wolfram himself. The boy widened his eyes.

“Naga!”

He felt a small laugh in the air, suddenly not hearing the words per se, but receiving flowing understanding inside his mind.

It was about a time. And a place.

The time and place he was supposed to leave Fódlan. Blinking inside the dream, Wolfram counted within his mind. Roughly one week until the portal opened inside the very woods he had arrived from, right below the monastery -- actually rather close to the place he had lived in isolation during the five years it took for Byleth’s Slumber to last.

Perhaps the energy around that place was special enough to hold for a portal between worlds to be erected. There was no way to know, at least not now.

Once Wolfram opened his eyes again, he was back in Caspar’s bed, though now he was alone. Blinking, he lifted himself up, still feeling sore, but much better than earlier that morning.

It wasn’t long after that his sensitive ears picked up steps reaching closer to the door, just as he had finished putting his clothes back on -- Caspar burst the door open, holding a tray with piles of food in his hands.

“Oh, Wolf! You woke up!” Caspar grinned, placing the tray on the secretary. “I ran once it was dinner time ‘cause I didn’t want to lose out on all the food, hah!” He said proudly, pulling Wolfram to sit on his lap by the desk. “Let’s dig in!”

Wolfram was a bit embarrassed by how easily Caspar did that, shyly taking a piece of bread from the overflowing tray. “Thanks, Caspar. I was really hungry.”

“Well, yeah, after all that exercise yesterday.” Caspar bobbed his head to the sides, making Wolfram blush at how casual he was about it all.

Muffling a giggle, Wolfram finished munching on his food. “I had a dream about when and where the portal to my world will open up.”

“That’s sick. I’ll never NOT get surprised every time you mention your powers.” Caspar shoved an uncut piece of meat into his mouth. “When’s it?”

“In a week, down at the woods not far from here.”

“Nice. Good thing it wasn’t back in the Empire, yeah? We’d need to run.”

Wolfram nodded comfortably, leaning more on Caspar. It was just so… surreal. To be so openly accepted. Of course, it wasn’t as though Wolfram had experienced any prejudice, so he felt even bad for feeling so happy about being accepted when nothing adverse had actually happened -- but it still made him feel so… at home.

It was like he had found a home outside of his own world, and that home was called ‘Caspar’. Hiding his face from all the cheesy lines growing inside of him, Wolfram kept these a secret as he munched on his food.

The week that would follow would be busy -- it would be filled with farewells and well wishes from his friends and classmates. Wolfram also planned to ask Dorothea and Dedue for a lock of their hair so he could make them their jewels.

Of course, he wouldn’t be able to do so here in Fódlan, but he was sure that the portal would open again, someday. It wouldn’t be the first time a portal to another world opened in Ylisse, after all.

Holding that confidence, he said a ‘momentary’ goodbye to his friends. He even spent a few hours crying when he had to talk with Dimitri and Byleth, holding them and their hands and wishing for their happiness to last forever while babbling about his own world. The royal couple smiled widely even though they were saying goodbye to each other. It was simply momentary goodbye.

With a refreshed face and a light heart, Wolfram led the way to the forest he had first appeared in, somehow dorwning in memories of all of the days he had shared with the people he had brought into his heart in that Monastery.

He looked and felt melancholy once they were far enough that only small outer wall could be seen from the distance. Caspar followed, talking about this and that, and asking about how the food was back in Wolfie’s home and how were the folks in his house like.

Talking about his family made Wolfie miss them much more strongly -- even more so now that he was just about to meet them again. His chin trembling, Wolfie had just finished speaking about how he looked a LOT like his dad when he felt It.

It was like the air itself distorted around them -- like the space they were in was actually two-dimensional and that one could simply put a hand up and rip it like paper. The power of the dragonstone inside his locket glowed, making Wolfie’s wings, horn and tail pop up as though in ressonance with the amount of energy all around him.

“Oh… it’s here.” Wolfie said in a dazed voice, making Caspar look from him to the tiny blue hole that started appearing in front of them. Before he could even open his mouth, the hole opened further, with a weird buzzing sound coming out of it. Wolfram took a deep breath, a large smile forming on his lips as he took Caspar’s hand. “C’mon! It’s here! Aquilo, fly, boy! Fly!” Wolfie jumped into the hole at the same time Aquilo dove in from the sky.

“A-alright!” Caspar nodded, hesitating only for a fraction of second before following his boyfriend into the light. He felt his uncertainty in his steps as all of his surroundings were distorted in a way that felt like when one hit their elbow at a corner. His surroundings looked exactly like how that felt.

Before he could blink, however, he felt the cool night air, and water seeping into his boots. “Water?” Barely was the word out of his lips, something immediately tackled Wolfram onto the ground, shoving Caspar out of the way.

“Wolfie!” Nidra hugged her youngest with tears in her eyes, her entire body still glowing from being the medium of Naga’s power. “Oh, my boy, my little boy…” Nidra sobbed, patting Wolfie’s face and chest, looking for injuries. “How are you? How was your mission? You didn’t get hurt? Oh, look how the tips of your hair are looking like mine…”

At his mother’s bombarding questions, Wolfie was barely able to breathe. But he didn’t want to push her away either. “Mother…!” He sniffled, hugging her back with everything he had. He sobbed into her shoulder. “I-I’m back! Wolfie’s back!”

Another set of tackles followed, now from both sides -- making the lump of people roll around the wet roots. Both Cynthias sobbed loudly as they hugged their little brother.

“Rammy!! Rammmyy!” They cried, but immediately started the questioning. “How was your epic adventure? You GOTTA tell us everything!”

Still overwhelmed with all of his family’s love, Wolfram couldn’t do anything but cry, holding onto his mother for dear life.

Caspar watched it all with a huge grin, happy to see Wolfram so happy as well. He felt a pat on his shoulder and looked on to see, uh, Wolfi?

Frowning, Caspar looked from the standing Wolf to the Wolf between the three girls, then back at the standing Wolf.

“Nyaha, we look alike, don’t we? But look clooosely,” Henry turned his head to the side, showing his perfectly round ears. “It took me a long time to get a kid that looked like me, you know!”

“Ooh! So you’re Wolf’s dad, then? Man, you two are identical.”

“Nyahaha, right?” Henry laughed heartily, but then gripped on Caspar’s shoulder a bit more strongly in a way that didn’t fit with his thin arms. “By the way, who’re you?”

Caspar pointed at himself. “Me? Oh, I’m Wolf’s boyfriend.”

“WHAT?!” Nidra jumped from the hug as though she had been listening to everything around her, rising in shock. “His- what?!”

“O-oh yeah, Mother!” Embarrassed for having lost himself amidst his family’s hugs, Wolfram got up to quickly head to where Caspar was, strangely surrounded by Henry, Meli and Meliodas. “His name’s Caspar and I brought him back here ‘cause I didn’t want to leave without him…” The more he spoke, the more bashful he became, looking down in embarrassment while Caspar nodded proudly beside him.

“Yup. I dunno what’s going on around here since there wasn’t much time for Wolf to tell me everything, but we’ll be fine as long as we’re together, right, Wolf?” He pulled the tall boy with an arm around his neck, smiling brightly in the face of five dragons -- not counting Nah and Tiki that had served as mediums, as well -- and an immortal.

Nidra felt faint, staggering in her spot as Henry materialized beside her to hold her up.

“Nyahaha, that sounds fun, doesn’t it? C’mon, let’s all go back and have a loooooong and fun talk!” Henry smiled brightly, though there was a shadow covering his thin eyes -- which, of course, went way over Caspar’s head.

He only grinned in response and puffed his chest up in pride. “Alright! Lead the way!”

Just as Wolfram had wondered that day, back in Enbarr, it now truly felt like a new chapter of his life was beginning -- a new chapter that involved his entire family, which included Caspar, and all the years that would follow their story together.

[iturbide]

🖋Promare AU? 👀(also merr Grimas!) -grimignis

Merr Grimas ovo

“My father is only rounding up criminals,” Chrom insisted.  “The Grimleal fiends that have been raiding towns, injuring innocent people, harming the knights sent to keep them safe – they’re the ones he’s after.  Not…not children.  This has to be a mistake…”

“Believe what you will,” Robin murmured, lifting a hand as the young woman drew a breath to reply.  “If you want to think of us as evil, nothing I say can change it.”

“I didn’t say you were evil,” Chrom mumbled.  “But…you do attack people.”

“We only attack the knights who’re kidnapping Grimleal,” the other lieutenant piped up.  “Sometimes other people get hurt, but it’s an accident.  We don’t mean to.  And we’re always real careful not to hurt anybody too bad, or kill anybody.”

“Which is more than can be said about your knights,” the woman beside Robin hissed.

“Enough, Tharja.”

The soft voice silenced her in an instant.  The boy stirred, his eyes blinking slowly open, and the young man smoothed the child’s hair where it stuck at odd angles from the makeshift bandages.  “Hello,” he murmured.  “How are you feeling?”

“…’m tired.”

The words were so faint, so weak, that Chrom very nearly missed them.  Robin only nodded, his expression solemn and understanding.  “I know.  You’ve been through a lot.  Will you keep going with us, though?”

The boy’s mother squeezed his hand when he closed his eyes.  “Please,” the prince heard her breathe, “please, please, please…”

“…w-wanna come.”

A smile spread across Robin’s face, warming the room far better than the low-burning fire.  “Alright, then,” he nodded, removing a tome from within his gilt coat.  “Do you know what this is?”

The boy opened his eyes, scrunching up his expression as he struggled to read the cover.  “Nos…feratu?”  The young man nodded, settling the tome in his lap.  “But…I don’…kno-ow any magic.”

“That’s alright,” Robin assured him.  “I can get it started, and show you what to do.  How does that sound?”

The child nodded weakly, and the young man set to work at a frantic pace at odds with his easy speech.  “Using magic isn’t so hard, it just takes practice.  Sometimes it helps to feel what it’s like when you’re first starting to learn – that way you know when it’s right, once you start doing it yourself.  I’ve heard that dark magic spells like Nosferatu are banned in Ylisse, but it’s not so different from using any other tome, like Wind or Fire: you have to reach down deep and concentrate on the feeling of it, like heat for Fire, or the crackle of lightning for Thunder…I always think of cold nights with Nosferatu, bundling up and feeling the warmth overtake the cold.”

The light changed, an eerie glow throwing twisted shadows across the walls while violet sparks twined around the book.  Lifting the boy’s bandaged hand, Robin lay it on the gilt cover, settling his own fingers over the child’s.  “Do you feel it?” he asked. 

The reply was barely more than a breath.  “…cold…”

“He’s fading,” the boy’s mother sobbed.  “Please, please, you have to help him…”

“We need both hands for magic like this,” the Grimleal leader continued gently, extending his other hand to her.  “This one here, on the tome, holds the spell.  And this one,” he explained as she released her son’s fingers, “guides the effects.”  Robin did not hesitate, taking the child’s hand and pressing it to his chest.  “Nosferatu is a spell for sharing life, and the heart is life’s source.  Do you feel it?”

Chrom watched Tharja’s fingers settle on the young man’s shoulder as the violet sparks flickered…and suddenly blazed high, shadows rising from the dark and swirling around him before snaking down the child’s arm.  Struggling still got him nowhere, but that didn’t stop him from trying, throwing his weight into it and trying desperately to break the bonds and stop this before…

The shadows subsided.  The light died, leaving only the glow of the fading cook fire.  Too late – he was too late…

The child’s eyes opened. 

“How are you feeling now?” Robin asked softly, sitting back while the boy struggled upright with his mother’s help. 

“…it’s…warm.”  He turned an awed stare on the Grimleal leader, who smiled back at him.  “I feel better.”

“You shouldn’t overexert yourself,” Tharja warned, “but if you’re feeling better you should get something to eat.  Henry will take you.”

“I will?” the other lieutenant chirped. 

“Yes, you will,” she insisted.  Shrugging, the young man offered his hand to the boy, helping him up and over to the fire where the other Grimleal welcomed him and offered all they still had.

“Is…w-will he be alright?” his mother whispered. 

“With rest,” Robin agreed.  “He’s out of danger, at least, and he should be able to travel, but he still needs rest to fully recover.”

“Thank you.”  Her voice sounded choked with fresh tears as she gripped the young man’s hand.  “Thank you so much – i-if there’s anything I can do…”

“Take care of him.  I would ask nothing more than that.”

She rose to her feet, breathing another word of gratitude before moving to join her son in the fading light.  “How much did you give him?” the prince heard Tharja murmur. 

“Enough,” Robin replied, starting for his feet– 

“Too much, from the looks of it,” she shot back, holding tight to his arm as he faltered.  “You need to rest, too.”

“We need to keep moving, if we don’t want to be found.  It’s already happened once.”  He met the prince’s eye for just an instant before trying again to gather his legs beneath him.  “We need to make ready–”

“I’ll see to the preparations, then,” she huffed, tugging him back down to the floor.  “Rest while you have the chance.”

“…fine,” he sighed.  “Thank you, Tharja.”

Her contented, catlike smile seemed completely at odds with the severity of her rebuke.  Inclining her head, she moved into the shadows, seeming to disappear in just a few steps…and Robin sighed, struggling to his feet and stumbling the five steps to the wall; leaning his back against it, the Grimleal leader slid down to the floor, folding his hands in his lap and tilting his head back against the cold stone.

Chrom wasn’t a healer.  His sisters were, but the best he could manage was a sloppy bandage job when pressed.  Still, the slow, unsteady rhythm of Robin’s breath seemed like a bad sign.  “…you okay?”

The young man stirred, tilting his head toward the prince and opening one eye.  “Mmn.  Well enough.”

“What…was it?  I-I mean, you said it was Nosferatu, but…I’ve never heard of dark magic being used to help people.”

A wan smile twitched across Robin’s face.  “Not surprising, here in Ylisse.  People here have little regard for the dark.  Nosferatu is ancient magic.  It is a spell for saving life by sharing it, though…once it was applied to combat it became more about saving life by stealing it.  Still.  It’s true use has always been as a lifesaving measure.”

“…does it hurt?” Chrom ventured. 

“Not if you’re an adept dark mage,” the Grimleal leader replied.  “…though, as Tharja frequently reminds me, I’m not one.”

“Why’d you do it, then?” 

Robin turned his head, fixing a tired stare on the prince beside him.  “I was the only one who could.  Dark magic might not come naturally to me – Tharja and Henry both are far more proficient, I’ve had to work hard just to keep pace with them – but I’m the only one capable of spell transference.  He was dying: how could I stand by and do nothing when I had a means to save him?”

Something in Chrom’s chest tightened.  He’d thought the man’s return during that first fight was nothing but practicality, an attempt to keep his allies out of Ylissean hands by whatever means necessary; loyalty had never once crossed his mind.  This, though…there was no mistaking this gesture.  “That was really kind,” he murmured.  “And I’m sure his mother’s glad, too.”

“Aunt.”

“Pardon?”

“Not his mother.  His aunt.”

The prince blinked, squinting through the shadows toward the figures silhouetted by the remnants of the fire.  “Where are his parents?”

“Rounded up in an earlier sweep,” Robin mumbled.  “He managed to escape, thanks to his parents, and she took him in.  The knights took both of them in the next raid.”

“…do you know what happened?” Chrom asked.  “How he was hurt?”

The Grimleal leader lifted his head, turning his attention to the fire.  “Do you see the man sitting with them?  The one with his arm in a sling?”  The prince nodded, watching the man pass something to the child.  “He was struggling to keep up with the forced march.  An old wound, as I understand it.  The boy went to help him, and the knights accused them of orchestrating an escape.  So they beat them, ostensibly as a ‘lesson,’ but I think it’s nothing more than hatred for the Grimleal.”

“Why are they here, then?  The Grimleal?” he added.  “Ylisse is Naga’s domain, so why would they come here…”

Robin lifted his head, staring at him in what seemed like blank shock.  “…these are Ylissean citizens.”

“What?”

“You didn’t know?” 

He turned to look again at the people clustered around the fading embers.  “Tharja, Henry, and I are the only Plegians here.  Everyone else was born here in Ylisse, has lived here all their lives…most have probably never set foot in Plegia, and some even believe in Naga.  But they are Grimleal, all the same: they bear the Eyes as proof, and that is what your Exalt hunts.  It doesn’t matter that they are his citizens.  It’s why the three of us came: to save as many as we could.”

“…it’s a rescue operation.”  Looking back at Robin, he saw the young man nodding.  “What you were doing in Southtown – you were…”

“Trying to get that family out safely, before the knights arrived.  We all mistook you for them, admittedly, but…given that I didn’t see them at the fort, my hope is that they managed to evade capture.”

“Then the…the raids.  The kidnappings.  They were…”

“Propaganda.  An unfortunate consequence of stepping in,” the Grimleal leader mumbled.  “We disrupt the knights’ operation, they claim that we’re the kidnappers stealing innocent people into the dark, conveniently leaving out that they were dragging those same people from their homes to some unknown fate.  And then they say that the people they’re rounding up are Grimleal spies, allowing them to act publicly in mixed villages.  …I’m afraid I made things rather worse than I ever meant,” he whispered, drawing his knee up to his chest, “but I only ever wanted to help them.  Take them to safety across the border, beyond the barrier where the Exalt cannot reach.”

Chrom wished he could get his hands free.  But the bonds held fast, and he finally gave up straining, slumping back in frustrated defeat.  “Why are you telling me all this?”

Robin stirred slightly, a weak smile twitching across his face.  “Nosferatu is a draining spell, even without turning it back on myself.  I want very much to sleep, but we’re leaving soon.  Talking helps keep me awake…and besides, it would have been rude to ignore your questions.”

[littlestgamer]

ajosies-main-blog replied to your post “I wanna talk about my bois and daughters, pls someone give me a reason”

Mk what made you fall in love with your husbandos?

Oh boy this is an interesting one to go back and look into let’s see:

Start off with the least compelling:

Gaius- I fell in love with him because of THAT STUPID LINE HE SAYS WHEN YOU MARRY HIM. Yes the ‘river of chocolate in an ocean of cream’ line actually won me over to the dumb goober! I was going through my 3rd playthrough of Awakening and I was playing as myself that round and also decided on making Henry my permanent husband. So I went and did the in battle save trick to S support all the non child unit males before I got to marry Henry so I would have their S support for the support log (In the end I forgot to S support Gregor rip). And then I got to Gaius. I found his support cute, but nothing too noteworthy since I didn’t read much of his supports before that (I um... didn’t recruit him my first playthough and my second one I think I only did one support for him). But then the S support CG played and I was stunned. “Did this guy just use such a corny line? And make me a blushing mess???? WAT???????” So while I didn’t marry him cause I was still set on Henry, I did feel kind of sad having him marry off to another character. So I went and grinded through his other supports when I did another playthrough as Male robin and went “Oh god I love two guys here.” Also seeing his reaction to the swimsuit along with his support with Henry in the Summer scramble DLC it was so fun and cute (Also if he’s married to the player for this DLC he will kiss them during the support convo). And that’s the story about how a thief won me over.

Kaden- First off let me say I have quite a few playthroughs on Fates since I played all three paths. I didn’t really look for a character to really consider the one I like the most until Revelations (Birthright was fun, aside from not knowing Kaze needed that A support >.> and playing Conquest right after gave me depression) so, spoiler alert, Kaden dies in Conquest and Keaton dies in Birthright, so I never got to really felt like experimenting with which guys I might like the most until I had all of them together in Revelations. (granted another might have taken the husband spot if not for a big glaring detail of Fates that I couldn’t get myself to overlook). But back to talking about Kaden. Kaden’s supports I didn’t really get to until Revelations and I liked them a lot. I liked how helpful he was and determined to return any favors. His caring personality is something you don’t often see with characters that have a touch of narcissism. Usually the kind and caring traits need some digging into the character to get to, but Kaden has it right there in his introduction for Birthright and Revelations. It’s also cute how he tries to responsibly spoil Selkie. He loves his daughter and wants to spoil her rotten, but knows that there are things she has to be told not to do, such as hunting excessively (she hunted 50 birds in one day but Kaden explained that she can’t do that all the time since it would cause their food supply to go away) or trying to keep her from running off on her own where he can’t trace her scent (he doesn’t want to restrict her freedom but also knows that poachers are a thing. Though Kaden pls you should really sit down and talk to her about what poachers are cause there’s about 3 times she gets caught and doesn’t realize the danger she’s in pls I want my child safe).Basically, Kaden won me over with kindness. And also he was a wonderful unit to use which helped a lot.

Keaton- Keaton was the winner of the husband search for Fates, yay! Reading his supports, it was so cute seeing how he would try to share his treasures to people, even if they mostly didn’t like it. And he was willing to give them up in his marriage to the player (no you can keep them sweetie, we royalty we can have a room dedicated for it). His tail wagging always being the giveaway to how he’s really feeling was extremely adorable to me. Him basically trying to adapt to the other people in the army to try and be friends with them. He’s a big softie despite how tough he acts sometimes and I love it. And not gonna lie, I kinda like the darker elements to his personality that he has, which you know explains the next one.

Henry- This man. He heard me mentally write him off and said “I’mma hex my way into your heart.” Okay, when I first recruited him, I did not care. I figured he was just the morbid jokester character that often doesn’t have many redeeming qualities and usually revolves around happily making people uncomfortable. So because I love the “opposites attract” trope and saw he could S support with Maribelle, I went with that since I figured that it would be entertaining. My expectations were shattered and replaced with something better. I won’t say what my entire expectation was, but I was expecting it to be a situation where Maribelle and Henry would have to come to a mutual understanding on things. So when I ended up getting what we get with Maribelle/Henry’s support, I was pleasantly surprised. Henry does have a reasonable view of mortality,even if he expresses it in a way most people won’t like. Him working with Maribelle to help quell her fears of death was not something I expected. So on my second playthrough, I went through more of his supports (though he married Tharja in the end on that one, I’m sorry Noire) and I was interested in how he developed. Learning that he had a lot of childhood trauma, learning how he’s actually coping through most of the pain he endured, and then also having him literally beg to not be abandoned in one of them. And a big thing was also his willingness to learn why his view on killing people and having bystanders die in the crossfire is morally wrong. And when he’s told why, he listens while also occasionally giving good points that defend why he thinks the way he does sometimes. Just he doesn’t like orders that tell him not to fight the enemy at all. He also provided a point of view from the Plegian’s side that Tharja’s supports didn’t cover as much. In Henry’s support with Ricken, you learn that the Plegians are not all some enemy goons that just need to be taken down, you learn that most of them had families, hobbies and dreams for the future. But the reason Henry had no problem turning on them was because he never felt close to them. And yet, Henry does care for the people in the Ylissian army, to the point where he says if Ricken were to die, he would likely go on a rampage. So then you’re left wondering how bad things are for the country as a whole for Plegia and maybe kind of wondering what would it be like if we got more of a PoV from the Plegians that weren’t only from the main villains pov. And Ricken’s support is not the only one where he shows he cares about people. With Miriel, in the A support Henry helped out a pregnant woman who was carrying a lot of stuff and afterwards basically said “Man it’s stupid how they have to go through this, I’m gonna create a curse to help mothers everywhere and will make the kids out of thin air. Boom no more 9 months of grief.”  Olivia’s support is where he gets his constant smile unmasked. Those moments when he’s not sure if she was still alive and you see that he’s actually sad and fearful of the people he cares about dying on him. He’s not a bad person, but his situation growing up has definitely lead to some moral conflicts with others. Bah, there’s much more I could talk about. He had more depth to him than I expected and now I’m married to him and he laughs at me for how much I love him when I was ready to not give him the time of day.

[f-anaticism]

{Bio}

{ ooc. Posting this here as well, since... it’s kind of important that you read it, and the bio very, very vaguely covers a majority of my hcs for Validar.}

Born the youngest of nine children, and given the middle name ‘Nkrumah’ to reflect as such, Validar was the third son to his father, Onuris, the leader of the Grimleal at that time. Much like the mothers of his half-siblings before him, his own mother was murdered upon discovering that he, too, was not a viable vessel for the the fell dragon, and was left in the care of his two remaining sisters—the eldest, kept alive solely as a means of having a back-up plan, and the eighth, their father’s second-most recent failure. To say that his was a loving family would be a lie—fights often plagued their lives, orchestrated by Onuris himself, and relentless psychological and physical torture laid at the hands of that man, replacing any normal interaction between a man and his children. Only one of them was to live, and all three knew that Onuris was simply waiting until his son grew to a decent age before any decision was made.

For the first six years of his life, Validar was reluctantly raised by his half-sisters who only did as such in an attempt to please their father, believing that it would place them in his favour. Neglected, and often left to figure things out on his own or simply suffer in silence, he learnt from a young age that he could not depend on others, and a twisted, bitter sort of hatred began to fester within the depths of his heart. As he grew older, his siblings grew more distant and harsher, yet none could compare to the cruelty he would endure at the hands of his father. It was clear how horrifically biased the man was, grooming him in the ways he, himself, had been by the boy’s own grandfather—in dark magic, the Grimleal beliefs, and what his detiny might be. Deprivation, beatings, and worse awaited if he dared to speak up or not meet his father’s expectations, and no matter how much he bled, no-one ever came to his aid. Validar learnt how to detach his emotions from practically everything, and became closed-off. Even the execution of his sisters did not shake his unfeeling, cold resolve—they deserved it.

Before his ninth birthday, and not long after the crusades began, however, something happened. He met her. Naeva.

She had never been the sort that would have caught his interest prior to that day. When introductions had been finished, and his father insisted that he take the girl elsewhere, the two had no choice but to speak with one another. Quiet, gentle, intelligent—though he was annoyed with her presence at first, the two swiftly became friends after a handful of afternoons spent studying dark magic together, and her listening to his frustrated rambling. So, a year later, when he heard from his father that the girl was to be spent to an institution so that she might become a proper Grimleal—a place he could not visit on his lonesome yet--, Validar knew something was off.

Four years pass, and in that time, he learns his father’s ways, inherits the gemstone sable, and arranges secret meetings with the girl. He could not explain their connection in any other way than it simply being fate urging them to see one another. Unfortunately, there had been no time to explain such a thing to his father upon being caught one night during an attempt to slip away from his chambers. Thirteen long, painful years of hatred bubbled over, and as Onuris struck the boy one, final time, Validar snapped. It was the first person he ever killed, and as he watched his father’s lifeless body fall to the ground, the dark mage felt nothing but relief, and an indescribable sort of euphoria. Days later, he was officially made the leader of the Grimleal, with that cleric as his right-hand. The sorcerer’s short temper and apathy towards taking lives only grew over time, shaping him in an extremely dangerous individual when coupled with his intellect.

Not wishing to emulate his father in regards to his own half-siblings and mother—not out of sympathy for them, but feeling as though he was above such promiscuous behaviour—, perhaps it is unsurprising that, when he and the girl became romantically involved at the age of seventeen, he had set his mind on who his only bride would be. At nineteen, they were engaged, and married shortly after that—after passing the tedious amount of rituals to see if the young woman was worthy. Due to the stress that the crusades placed on Plegia, however, his wife would not fall pregnant until two years later. In an attempt to protect her, he forged a talisman that would stop curses in their tracks, but only if they were of the same power as it or less.

At the age of twenty-three, his only child was born, and much to his delight, bore the brand of the defile on their right hand—a sign that they were a viable vessel. The moment, however, was short-lived as his wife broke down, prompting Validar to remove himself from the room out of frustration, having never been well when it comes to dealing with emotions. A month later, his wife took their child, and managed to escape from the Grimleal, much to his distress. This, among other things, was enough to trigger the man’s descent into madness, though he was never truly sane to begin with.

At first, he turned to divination hexes, desperate to find their location. When those did not work, he delved deeper—into more dangerous and unstable curses. With each failed attempt to overcome his own power, and therefore the talisman she held, he began to slip away, his will unable to combat the growing darkness. Sable only made matters worse, and amplified both his less amicable traits as well as the negative emotions festering within his heart, serving as a catalyst to the sorcerer losing himself. Validar grew colder, more obsessed with his wife and child, more violent, and did not dare to let anyone engage with him in conversation outside of reports. So, when his search eventually led the man to a village, and encountered a girl who looked so very similar to how a child between him and his wife would have looked, perhaps what happened next was not surprising.

The child possessed a gift, and when coupled with how much she looked like the progeny of himself and Naeva, decided that she ought to be taken. Yet he was civil at first, requesting that the girl’s parents let him take their child back to the capital and have the Grimleal help her refine the gift she possessed. When that failed, his demeanour turned icy once more, and Validar ordered his Grimleal to destroy the village, slaughtering everyone but the girl. He would take her in and play the role of a saviour, giving this girl—his daughter, but not by blood or choice—the name ‘Aversa’. She would serve as nothing more than a tool in his schemes—a puppet whom he did not care for in the slightest, but would obey his every command.

He would not find his wife or child, however his endeavours never ceased—he continued to lose himself, becoming even worse over time. Still, despite his behaviour, the sorcerer was adored by the members of the Grimleal, and it would be his scheming that would set the world on the course to destruction. He just needed to find them first, and he did— or, at least, he found Robin. Twenty years later, with his wife’s old staff and tome at his side as though they filled the hole she left after fleeing.

[petalsfall-archive]

To all the fallen warriors (title subject to change before A03 posting)

Rating: Teen and up Fandom: Fire Emblem Awakening, set in Lucina’s timeline Pairing: chrobin Word Count:979 Warnings: Major character death, still in works

Premonition (... to become the god she never wanted to be)

Robin’s brown hues gaze at the purple barrier that separates her the battle into two, a barrier the sorcerer they now face has casted to ensure he will only have to worry about them. The tactician can make out the other’s running forth into battle through the dark magic’s haze, but before she can dwell on it her husband’s voice causes her to rip her focus away- back forth to the task at hand. “This is it! Our final battle!” He calls, his words strengthening her drive, at the very least she won’t face her father alone. “You’re one of us, Robin, and no “destiny” can change that. Now let’s kill this dastard and be done with it!” Quickly she steals a glance towards him, a small smile forming upon her lips as she sees the determination that rises in his eyes as he steadies Falchion, his own gaze unleaving their foe. She opens Thoron at once, prepared now to face the man her Mother always warned her of. “Right!”

They charge forward together dodging the bolts of dark magic Validar send after both of them, Robin occasionally managing to pair them with electric ones of her own. She knows he fights to kill the Exalt that is at her side, but while he’s not holding back against her nor showing signs of doing so she knows he is not planning to do the same to her. No, she’s finally here in his eyes after her mother fled with her from Plegia before she was even one, telling her to always be wary that the pelagians her father had surly sent after them would drag her back. No, to him her presence after all these years, so close to the dragon’s table, is sign enough that she is /meant/ to become grima, that his heart within her his finally strong enough despite her absence from Plegia most of her life. But it’s a fate she refuses to accept, and Chom’s support that no destiny that Validar is trying to place upon her can change that- that she is still the woman he fell for, is what she chooses to believe in. When their relationship had shifted from no longer being just captain and tactionion, but rather a romantic one, she’d been reluctant to tell him the truth behind her past- the truth that the very reason she was conceived was to be a tool to aid in Grima’s destruction, but he’d always assured her that she was one of them, that the mark upon her hand did not seal her fate. And so she fights with every fiber of her being, managing to land a strong hit against Validar. “Ha ha ha! Why do you resist?” The man calls out to her before he starts to charge up another attack. “You cannot unwrite what is already written!”

Robin ignores his call, his words only strengthening her resolve that she will not fall the the fate he waves in front of her. She is a tactician, a wife, and a mother of two darling children that await for her to return home- not a vessel for a god of destruction. Chrom slams into the sorcerer, his final attack causing for the man to fall to his knees, the dark magic that separates the Shepherds into to withdrawing and fading. As the elder man crumples Robin wonders if this is truly it, did they finally manage to defeat him? She can see the same thought crossing her husband’s face as he glances back at her, but it’s then that she realizes they’ve let their guard down too soon. “This isn’t over…” Validar snarles as he manages to rise up slightly, magic forming quickly in his hand. “Damn you both!!”

Dark magic speeds towards Chrom, who hasn’t even managed to turn to face their foe and before Robin can think of what else to do she shoves a hand at her husband’s chest, forcing him back and allowing the magic to hit her instead. Everything turns white as pain floods her being, her stance lost as she feels herself fall to the floor- unable to do anything about it.

Once she can finally focus her vision she sees Chrom running forward. “You alright?” He asks at once, quickly taking her into his arms and propping her back up. “That’s the end of him.” The smile that he gives her makes it all worth it, is this war truly finally over? Maybe at last she’ll be able to see her children again after these hard months away from Ylilsetol. “Thanks to you we carried the day. We can rest easy now. At long last…” However when Chrom continues red overtakes her vision, pain flooding her head quickly in an insinsity that’s crippling- something Chrom notices at once. “...What’s wrong? Hey, hang on-” He’s unable to finish his words, for right then a thunderbolt pierces his abdominal and he stumbles back. As the pain subsides Robin gazes down at her hand, seeing the small sparks of thunder flickering in her hand as Thoron’s magic dies down before she glances back at the other. “This is not your- your fault…” He starts, the look he wears /killing/ her even if Validar’s lingering control from having forced her to drive the bolt into the other lingers enough to prevent her from acting. “Promise me you’ll escape from this place… please, go..” She watches unable to move as the life leaves her husband’s eyes, his body falling to the floor unceremoniously as Validar’s laughter fills the room.

At the sight of her husband’s body on the ground below her, killed by her own hand, she can’t help but succumb to grief- the force rising forth Grima and she becomes the god she never wanted to be.

[livesoffcoco]

A Different Timeline Preview

So I just had this idea of, what if Robin’s mother had not taken her when she was a child? What if she grew up as something of the Princess/High Priestess of Plegia? What if the Grimleal pushed up their timeline and the outcome for Robin would be far more painful, i.e., in the process of becoming Grima, she loses her life and dies? And what if she finds out and runs east towards Yllise?

               It really was just like any other normal day in the country side. This was part one of the reasons Chrom loved being outside of the city so much. This country, his family’s country, was beautiful beyond words. Every day he was able to live his life; walk around with the sunlight streaming down upon his skin was another perfect day.

               He, Lissa, and Frederick were together, trotting along their normal trail. It was just a routine check of the southern grass lands. Nothing out of the ordinary. Chrom had actually been meaning to do it sooner. There were some reports of ruffians running about. Nothing too drastic or problematic, but enough to warrant a quick ride out to the area. Any excuse to get out of the castle, even if it meant listening to Lissa chatter about the heat, was one Chrom would take.

               Honestly, Chrom had been trying to leave the castle more and more as of late. His heart just has not been in his diplomatic training. That had never been his forte, always the fighter; always the “beef head” as LIssa enjoys calling him. It was not as though that were a problem. Chrom took after his father almost entirely; well, took after his father’s looks and ability to fight. He had far more the personality of his mother. All the while, his two sisters were delicate and steady minded. Emmeryn could talk her way out of any political conundrum. Lissa did not have to. She was simply kind enough to avoid it all together. Chrom often felt like the black sheep in the small amount of family he had left. His blue hair and thick build caused him to stick out like a sore thumb. Add onto the fact that he was the only one who could wield the Falchion in all the world and Chrom could barely stand being near them anymore.

               Of course that did not take away from his want and will to protect him. He loved his sisters more than anything in the world. It is just…

               As horrible as it sounds, he sometimes wished life could have been different. He wished his father hadn’t been such a war monger. He wished his mother had lived. He wished their family had not been vilified by the people simply because of one person’s actions.

               He wished he could be someone he wasn’t.

               “Milord, pause for a moment.” Frederick said upon his giant mount. Lissa was riding right behind him, having complained for far too long that her feet were aching from their march. Chrom did as he was asked and looked up towards the wary knight, spotting those sharp eyes looking past him towards the tree line. Chrom followed his line of sight and saw nothing at first, wondering as to what Frederick seemed so worried about.

               The silence continued for a few more seconds and Chrom was about to turn back to Frederick, joke and tease him that he really should not take every small noise so seriously. However, a sudden blast of lightening through the shadowed forest had all of them jumping. “What is the world?” Chrom muttered under his breath. He wondered if perhaps he had not seen it right, that all of them were just too hungry or too thirsty. But it happened again and he sprinted off in that direction. Frederick was riding after him, shouting that he must stay back; but Chrom was determined. The prince Exalt would hardly ever change his mind when he set it on something.

               All the reports did not include warnings of mages so this was a new issue. With the grasslands being so close to the capitol, Chrom did not have the luxury of not checking out the issue as the leader of the Shepherds.

               So he slowed some upon passing the tree line. There was no need to make a lot of noise when facing this new enemy. He still did not know what was happening so alerting them to his presence before he knew where they were was not ideal. Frederick seemed to get the same idea for he slowed his horse down to barely a walk.

               As they went further into the forest, Chrom could hear the sound of people running about. From what he could tell, there was at the very least four individuals; more than likely there were more. “Milord.” Frederick bit out, obviously not enjoying the turn of events. But Chrom just threw up his hand to motion him to be quiet; pulling out his sword to ready for battle. Each step was softer than the last, waiting and readying himself.

               Luckily he did not jump when the lightening was far closer this time. It did illuminate the shadows; showing a few forms. So he was accurate in his guess of at least four combatants. There was another quick shock of lightening before it grew quiet. For a moment he thought that whoever had been fighting stopped.

               But suddenly a body slammed into his. They were a little shorter than Chrom and was panting like they had been sprinting for miles; and he could only assume they had been.

               When he glanced down at the person who he had grabbed by the upper arms, he was stunned to find a woman. Her skin was darker than his by a touch. Drenched in sweat, her eyes found his; wild and wide and full of terror.

               Right then, even as he saw the tome in her hand and the small sword at her side, he knew she was being attacked and he knew he had to help her.

               “Please! Please they are trying to kill me!” She whispered obviously knowing that her assailants were still around somewhere.

               Chrom had lost Frederick at some point but that was not a problem. He simply stared at her for another moment, taking in the dark boots, pants, and the light sleeveless tunic. There was something strangely…strangely regal in the way she carried herself.

               “Please.” Another whisper as she turned at the sound of a branch breaking somewhere behind them. In the shadows, it was still so damn hard to see anything. It was clear that whoever was after her was close though. So Chrom ushered her backwards, pressing her against a tree so the two of them were out of sight. Closer and closer the attackers came so Chrom lifted his cape over the two of them. With how dark it was in the forest, whoever was looking for the woman would be hard pressed to notice the dark shadow the cape created.

               “Shhh.” Chrom hushed her, watching as she clamped a hand over her panting mouth. He pressed tighter before glancing up and watching the attacker come right by the tree; feeling his heart sink at their attire.

               While he had not been in direct combat with them, he knew those colors.

               Those were Plegian mages.

               Those were Plegian fighters.

               What were they doing this close to Yllistol, especially without anyone having noticed?

[oddferalair]

characterization quotes

Robin Support   See, now you're just not thinking logically. We've killed countless people in this war— what's a few more souls on the ledger? Seems like an arbitrary line to me... But all right. You're the tactician! No more unholy summoning sigils. Heck, I always obey orders! Well, except for stupid ones like "don't fight the enemy." If someone tried to tell me that, I'd cut 'em in half and feed them to the crows! Lissa Support If you don't rest up before a battle, you might find yourself resting up in a grave.   That does seem like a problem. War is killing and death, ya know? Keeping people you care about alive means making the other guy dead. Nya ha ha! Just a little touch of Henry's Super Sleepy-Time Magic! ...The nonlethal version. First you don't want any allies or enemies to die, and now BIRDIES are off the table? ...You're a strange one, Lissa. Nya ha ha! Me? Sweet? That's a new one. Besides, you're the one who's always concerned about people dying and stuff. I don't know how you do it, honestly. I couldn't go a week! I'm not much of a mood guy, I'm afraid, unless we're talking gruesome bloodshed... Well, how about this: I did get you a ring! Will that work? 

Frederick Support

I want my dying thought to be about blood! ...Or maybe ichor. H-hey, Frederick! Easy with the bear hugs! These little bones might snap like...Oh, whoa! Are you CRYING?! You really think people notice what I do around here? 'Cause I doubt it. I mean, what kind of things do they say about me now? Nya ha ha! If you lay it on any thicker, I'll be smothered to death! But I'm not training to make myself look good in front of my comrades, you know?   Well, because the more I practice, the more stuff I'm able to do. I like being good at lots of things. Sully Support Absolutely! I'll need a pound of flesh, seven fingernails, and your left kidney. Nya ha ha! I jest. A single hair will do just fine. Yep yep! That's it, all right. I can curse till I'm blue in the face, but if their will's stronger than mine? Pbbt. Aw, you're going to make me blush. I'm nothing special. Miriel Support You have? That's great! I cast hexes all the time, and I've never come up with ONE theory about them. Nya ha ha! Oh, stop it, Miriel! You'll make me blush. Although it's pretty much true. When it comes to hexing folks, I'm the master. Why, this one time at mage camp, I killed 100 people with one curse! Er, I don't remember when. ...Or where exactly. But it totally could have happened. Henry: Well, you know that town we passed through a few days ago? I saw a pregnant lady on the main street with a load of cheese and fruit in her arms. She looked pretty tired and worn out, so I stopped to help her carry her wares.     Right?! Anyway, the more I thought about it, the more I realized pregnancy is dumb. So I'm planning to help the mothers of the world by inventing a special curse. I'm gonna create a hex that conjures new kids right out of thin air! Sumia Support I'm a mage! I just wave my wand and mutter a little incantation... Humina humina humina... Presto! The busted bowls are busted no more! Yeah, it's just a temporary hex, unfortunately. Tomorrow they'll be in pieces again. But at least folks won't have to eat out of their hats tonight. Oh, that spell can certainly be used for evil. All it does is reverse time. See, so if something bad happens to someone and you cast it on them... They have to experience that same tragedy over and over again! Nya ha! Isn't it obvious? You're me, and I'm you! Clever curse, eh? Well, you're about as magic as an old sock, so this was the only way. And while you cast some hexes, I'm going to ride your pegasus all over camp! Woo-hoo! I'm gonna swoop down on people and drop stuff on their heads! Ricken Support Oh? I thought word had gotten around. Yeah, Gangrel was toppled before I got the chance to fight any real battles. A shame, too. It would've been fun to face off against the Shepherds! Then there was Mustafa. He always gave me a bag of peaches whenever I visited. He said I reminded him of his son and that I should consider myself part of his family. Yep. Dead as driftwood, they are. And it was you Shepherds who killed 'em! Their friends and families are probably still crying their eyes out. No! I'd be very sad and angry. And I'd find out who did it, hunt them down, and exact bloody revenge! ...Oh yes. There would be blood. When I was with Plegia, I didn't think much about this kind of thing. Maybe because in that army, I didn't have real friends like I do here. I guess, sure. Honestly, I'm not much good with touchy-feely stuff. You know what I'd rather talk about? The next battle! Maribelle Support Talking to the flower. She says she's very grateful that you spoke to her. Also, she says she'll stay strong as long as you do, too. I'm not feigning anything. I'm just really in touch with the natural world. I can talk to any living thing you want. Trees. Flowers. Maggots. Ooooooh... Maaaggots... Meh, not to me. Everyone kicks the bucket at some point, so why fret? See, now that I can understand. But get this—I've got a special curse ready, see? Been working on it for a while now. If you're mortally wounded, it kills you off before you suffer any pain! Just...poof. Off ya go! It's 'cause I'm not scared, Maribelle. Fighting is actually pretty simple. I just have to kill the other guy before he has a chance to kill me. Panne Support That's not very neighborly, now is it? What difference does one's religion make? I just want to be friends! Ylisse is weak enough as it is. If the exalt were assassinated, I worried they'd lose the war in a week! That would have been a terrible waste of a perfectly fun war. Er, the beast half, I guess. I love animals! I wish I could be one. Even a half one would be okay with me. My parents abandoned me in the woods when I was little. So it was mostly the nice animals there who raised me. I still love their smell. It relaxes me in a totally nostalgic sort of way. So if I went out and killed them all, could we be friends? I'm not that young, and I don't think I'm stupid. But hey, who knows, right? Cordelia Support Oooh, lucky guy. I wish someone would make ME a nice cozy scarf! Ooooooooooooooooooooooooh. Say, what if the wife was dead? Could you give it to him then? That's kind of like making yourself sad on purpose, isn't it? You want help? 'Cause I've got a curse that'll REALLY make you miserab— I asked Lissa for advice, and she told me to take you on a big shopping trip. She said a few hours trying on dresses and armor would fix that broken heart, pronto! I don't really get all this "feelings" stuff, but if you say so. Er, but if you're REALLY grateful, you could join me for a fruit pie... Nya ha! No, it's a scheme to make you fall in love with me. Nowi Support Yep! They're probably quivering in fear under their beds and crying like babies. But no worries! There'll be more victim—er, that is, village kids—at our next camp. Right. You can't actually touch her. My magic is good, but not THAT good! Hey! I spent a lot of time and effort on this, you know! Tharja Support Hee hee! Smiling? This is how I always look. Sorry! Nothing sinister over here. I'm just a hale and hearty mage. Nope! Not me! Although I do own a cloak and a couple daggers. Aw, I don't get into politics. I just want to toss fireballs at bad guys. Hey! Tharja! You forgot to remove the curse! Oh, well. I suppose it'll fizzle out eventually. La la la... Do you need a death curse? Please say you need a death curse. Yeah, dispelling curses is kind of my specialty. Right now, whoever cast that curse must be in one confused pickle! Too bad we can't be there to see it. That would be swell! Oh yeah. I guess so, huh? Although you didn't really need to put a truth curse on me, you know? I don't have anything to hide, and I've never told a lie in my life. Olivia Support You're a crazy lady. Why would I do that? I love doggies! I want to save his life! Right, boy? Who's a good boy? Aren't you glad the crazy lady wants to help us? Yes you are! Hey, that's a medical condition! Show some respect! Oh, will you look at that? It's blood! ...Wonder where it came from? *Lick* ...Oh, hey! It's MY blood! Nya ha! I must have been wounded in battle! Oh man, good times. Oh, I've got a high pain threshold. It's a genetic thing. Nerve damage. I've had a lot worse than this! When I was a kid, my parents put me in this exclusive wizard school. Well, as you can imagine, some of the experiments got a biiit out of hand. Once, I almost set my face on fire! Nya ha! Those were the days... Meh, my parents didn't care what I did as long as I wasn't expelled. Heck, the whole reason they sent me to wizard school was to get rid of me. But hey, no worries! I turned out fine! That's what all my psychiatrists said. But nope! Not true. I'm just a happy guy. Look, crazy lady. I like you. I really do. But you have GOT to let this go. I smile because I'm happy, all right? There's nothing more to it. Olivia? H-hey, Olivia. ...You being crazy again, Olivia? Olivia?! Aw, come on, Olivia! You can't die now! NOOOOO! OLIVIAAAAAA! Come back to me, Olivia! Stay out of the light! STAY OUT OF THE LIIIIIIGHT! Cherche Support Sure have! She's as cute as a button, that one. ...Well, if buttons were cute. We had wyverns in Plegia, you know, and also the occasional fell beast. But we didn't have a single wyvern that was as pretty as Minerva. Yep! I make four-legged friends wherever I go! And even some two-legged ones. I'm also pals with a three-legged bear, but that's a story for another time. Well, when I was young, my best friend in the entire world was a giant wolf. My parents ignored me most of the time, so that wolf became my whole family. Then one day she came to visit me, and some hunters in the village... They shot her full of arrows. Killed her on the spot. But they paid... Oh, how they paid... They paid in BLOOD. Er, but yes. None of my magic could bring my beautiful wolf friend back. So I guess that's why I hang out with you and Minerva. 'Cause it reminds me. I know I'm here a lot, but I always feel safe and happy when I'm with Minerva. Kellam Support I think I get it now. Seems to me you're barking up the wrong tree, tin man. Visibility isn't the problem—you're just lonely! So all we gotta do is find a way to make you stop feeling lonely! It's true. When I was a kid, my only friends were wolves, so they ended up raising me. Thing is...that made it tough for me to learn about basic human warmth and affection... Like just now. I tried to be nice to you and show you that I care and stuff, right? But I got it all wrong and instead made you freak out. Sorry about that... Gaius Support Not many, no. Back in Plegia, we hardly have any cakes or sweets at all. We don't get the plentiful harvests that Ylisseans and Feroxi enjoy. So the dishes we make are kind of basic, you know? Nothing like those, anyhow. Yup. It's hard to make cakes out of turnips, though that doesn't stop people trying! Anyway, the point is, I've never seen so many tasty-looking treats all in one place! Well, thanks for showing me your treasures, Gaius. It's been lots of fun! ...Oh, I almost forgot! I brought something to show you too! Yeah...something like that! They're baked in special ceremonies as offerings to Grima. Never eaten one myself, but as you're the expert, I figured you'd like to try it! Libra Support Like, I dunno...you're a priest, but you wield a weapon and smash people with it, right? I bet it causes you all kinds of anguish to have to splatter the life out of others! Aren't you overthinking things a little? A weapon's just a tool for killing! Wouldn't it be a whole lot easier to just accept that and move on? Who knows—you might wind up like me and start to really savor the joys of slaying! I mean, when you get down to it, aren't you and I both doing the exact same thing? I mean, I guess it's hard for an altruist like yourself to respect an egoist like me, but... They do, huh? Well, I don't believe in the gods, so it doesn't really matter what they think! (in response to Libra calling him out for saving other people) ...

[awakenedprince]

Unpopular opinion time:

Awakening is genuinely my favourite Fire Emblem game and yes I have played some of the older ones. Perhaps favourite game point blank; it’s been years since I’ve played Twilight Princess and that would be the main contender.

I love the idea of the Shepherds and find the recruitments in game more interesting than fates where most join because they’re your sibling or a retainer. Whilst there are certain fan servicey/”funny” supports f!Chrobin there are plenty of ones you feel for as well and generally the sheer number (which I acknowledge is because of the marriage system) means you get to see the characters in plenty of scenarios. As such, you see more sides to them than you would do in some of the older games. Looking at you Shadow Dragon.

Sure the game has plenty of flaws but you don’t really notice them on a first playthrough? The surface isn’t exactly complicated but when you look at the things surrounding it, such as Ylisse’s bloody history and Walhart’s desire to unite the world being linked to wanting to prevent Grima’s revival, there is actually a very intriguing setting there. On a second or third playthrough you begin to notice issues but if you look past them, various characters’ moralities become a lot more complicated and understandable.

It would have helped if there had been more focus on them. For example, instead of the Grimleal being the one to murder everybody Aversa cared about, they could have left it as the work of the crusades against Plegia. She would have been 11-12 when the previous exalt died - that’s easily old enough to remember and hold an understandable grudge.

But despite missed opportunities such as this, the game is still entertaining. The fact that the good vs evil divide is clear doesn’t ruin it and honestly, who didn’t feel pumped in the last chapter? Sure in normal mode it was pretty easy to defeat Grima but having your allies cheer you on and that gorgeously thrilling music playing? Come on. We all got hyped, even if just a tiny bit.

Honestly, that track is what got me thinking about this. You can not deny the music in Awakening if beautifully composed and so on point for the point of the various chapters. Emmeryn pretty much was written to die in chapter 9 but what truly makes up for that is Don’t Speak Her Name.

There is a power behind that track that keeps it from being a typical oh no we’re sad track. It is so easy to just put something slow and melancholic for a scene where characters are mourning, and whilst this ost has elements of that dotted around, those sections also sound slightly peaceful. A memory of a luminous queen. That clarity crescendos into something with so much strength behind it however, and despite being able to sense the despair and lack of focus on where to go from there, the Shepherds are still ploughing forward because they still have a war to end and a crime to answer to.

And you can feel the adrenaline pushing Chrom forward. He speaks the song’s title out of justified anger yet it’s the whirlwind of emotion in it that drives his disgust at this cruel fate. The fact they had it play over the battles as well works as it shows what is at the forefront of every single person’s minds - Emmeryn’s death, not the current fight.

The chapter dialogue itself compliments how the Shepherds are feeling: we have an enemy general who is also sick of the fighting and wishes for no more needless bloodshed. However, he cannot allow them safe passage and the main reason his troops stick by him is that they see a noble heart worth fighting for. Even the chapter’s enemies work with the track. They aren’t the bad guys here, so no matter who dies it’s a tragedy that can be felt in the music. Yet there is also a constant beat: the world carries on, just like the thieves doted around the map will continue to live their lives as they always do, a change in power not affecting them.

Now I understand that the Valm campaign feels a bit like filler, but how many of you have played it with Chrom fighting the bosses? Because I married Chrom on my first playthrough, he was at the back of the pair up quite often. Due to this, I missed so many boss/Chrom exclusive conversations which I didn’t notice until way after I made this muse. Characters’ motivations are actually questioned, and some pretty valid points are made which complicate matters. For example, we have that general who had betrayed Ylisse because she believed in Walhart’s strength over Emmeryn’s words and she actually has a point given the latter died. Overall in this arc, these conversations add development to what kind of leader Chrom is trying to be and moving out of his sister’s shadow.

Speaking of our supposed protagonist, yes the spotlight gets stolen by Robin. To an extent, Lucina as well. It’s not quite as bad though if you go through all of these optional conversations however, and you get to see an acutal character arc. Admittedly, as a fan of Chrom due to the subtle nuances of his personality and story, I do think the screentime and plot relevance should have been better shared between him and Robin owards the end.

With that in mind, I do like that our avatar became relevant in the end. Suddenly, we had a purpose beyond being a self insert with personality and became important to the grand sceme of things. Our character has a harrowing truth and is at the center of the current problem. Suddenly, we have a genuine plot twist and are invested because hot damn our character has a role. One that will lead to an epic feeling final battle.

But along the way, we feel our avatar making friends with the cast and having something they wish to protect. At the same time, we also get a peek into pre-existing relationships in the form of those alredy within the Shepherds by the time we join. Unlike Fates, we have a group who by the end all joined because of different motivations but are working towards a common goal.

OK I’m going to stop now because this was meant to be a one liner joke and it turned into an essay so in conclusion if you think Awakening is the worst in the series fuck you and your opinion I LOVE AWAKENING we can still be friends though even if you’re wrong

[avumilitaris-blog]

So a friend on a Discord server had a terrible idea and now I’m writing a short(ish) drabble on it. 1495 words, Tempest Trials centric ft. Male Robin.

One by one, each of Robin’s companions were defeated by the warriors that Veronica had at her side. They seemed to be avoiding him for some odd reason, but at the same time, it became clear that the tactician wouldn’t be able to carry the team by himself. Veronica herself had a weapon triangle advantage against him, so his Blarraven did next to nothing as he bravely tried to defend himself from total defeat. The moment that the caustic magic from her tome battered Robin’s body, he knew he was done for. The tactician collapsed in a heap where he stood. Their entire squad was defeated, so now the Summoner would be able to deploy a new squad to fight Veronica.

There was just one problem: all members of the first squad needed to evacuate so that the next group could take their place. Robin’s body refused to move, so he couldn’t run for safety and allow the Summoner to bring in reinforcements. The other Askrian fighters had already fled the field and couldn’t return to pick up the defeated mage. Therefore, there was nothing the Summoner could do but wait and watch to see what happened.

A gentle chuckle escaped Veronica as she stood over Robin’s battered body. “You look just like the Hero that he mentioned.” She stated softly. “It’s time to see if this will work.”

“...What will work?” Robin groaned. He wanted to get up, but his body just refused to move. Was it something about the tome that she used that made it so that he couldn’t get up? ...No, she had attacked others in the group and they had all fled to safety afterward. That meant that something else had happened here instead. It quickly became clear what that something was when Veronica spoke up again to answer his question.

“I defeated you, so now you’re under contract to me.” Robin’s eyes grew wide. That at least explained why his body was refusing to move - the creator of the contract had not ordered him to do so, and thus he stayed put.

“W-what? Why me?” He knew that the Askrians defeated Heroes in order to free them from Veronica’s contracts, but he didn’t think the inverse could be true as well. But at the same time, why contract him specifically? She hadn’t used this spell on the other Heroes in the Summoner’s group, allowing them to go free. Veronica wasted no time answering these questions swirling about in Robin’s mind, though.

“A friend of mine told me about you.” She replied. “He told me about what kind of power you possess and how it’s tied to this place.” Robin gasped as she mentioned the site where this battle was taking place. They were in the World of Awakening, fighting at the Dragon’s Table in Plegia. He had been a bit uneasy coming to this place in order to battle Veronica to begin with, seeing as it still gave him chills to be in a place so closely tied to his fate, but he had fought on regardless, assuming that it was just a backdrop to their fighting to create a mood. Now he knew they had battled here for a reason.

“What of it?” He growled. “You can’t do anything about that anyway, so there’s no reason to keep me beholden to you.” At this moment in time, Veronica had put away her tome and brought out a different one with a very familiar insignia emblazoned upon the front of it. A purple tome with six white eyes glaring ominously toward Robin as he still lay on the ground - this tome was none other than Grima’s Truth. Where had she even gotten her hands on it in the first place?

“I don’t, but you do.” Veronica held out Grima’s Truth for Robin to take. “Stand up, take this tome into your arms, and head to the altar.” She turned around to face a podium set up in the middle of the rings on the floor with candles lit next to it. Now that Veronica had given him an order, his body finally moved, forcing the tactician to stand and take the purple book from the Emblian princess as he walked around to the altar.

“You’re mad...” Robin growled as he watched himself set Grima’s Truth down and flip the book open. “This won’t work. You won’t be able to control him.” The princess’ expression didn’t change any as she replied.

“As you can clearly see, it’s your body that’s being controlled through the contract.” She stated. “As long as that contract is in place upon your body, I will be able to control you - or rather, the dragon you’re about to summon. And all your Askrian friends get to witness this beautiful moment.” A glance was cast over her shoulder toward the Summoner, whose body language made it clear that they were confused and scared, wondering what Veronica was trying to pull with Robin. She then looked back at Robin and gave the command. “Perform the Ascension Ritual and bring forth the Fell Dragon.”

“No!” Marth, the masked warrior cried out, trying to push onto the battlefield to save the tactician before he sacrificed himself. Unfortunately, the tempest was able to keep her from storming the field. Even though the butterfly mask covered her face, the Summoner could sense Marth’s frustration. “This is exactly what I was trying to prevent! Askr will be completely destroyed by Grima!” The Summoner gasped as well and also tried to get through the tempest, but nothing either of them did had any effect - not while Robin was still out there on the battlefield.

As per the order he was given, Robin started reading off the words on the page that denoted the ritual to revive Grima. He tried to resist, but Veronica’s orders were absolute. Tears rolled down the tactician’s cheeks as he cast the spell.

“FELL DRAGON... BRINGER OF DESPAIR... LEND ME YOUR EARS AND HEAR MY PRAYER...” Robin was trying to stop himself from saying the words, but they kept coming out all the same as per the order he was given through his contract. The tome began glowing with a fierce dark aura, sending magic skyward. That same symbol that had was imprinted on the front of the text now hovered in the air over Robin in the form of purple flames, though its eyes were closed.

“I... OFFER TO YOU MY EYES, SO THAT YOU MAY SEE YOUR BLIGHT CREEP ACROSS THE LAND.” Robin shivered intensely after reading the line, but he still could not stop himself. The first of the six eyes on the giant insignia overhead shot open, and with each line of the incantation and another offering given, another eye would open.

“I OFFER TO YOU MY EARS, SO THAT YOU CAN HEAR THE DEATH THROES OF YOUR ENEMIES AS YOU TORTURE THEM TO EXTINCTION. I OFFER TO YOU MY TONGUE, SO THAT YOU CAN TASTE THE BLOOD OF INNOCENTS POURING FROM THEIR MORTAL WOUNDS. I OFFER TO YOU MY HANDS, SO THAT YOU MAY HOLD A BLOODSTAINED BLADE TO THE THROATS OF THOSE WHO WOULD RESIST YOU. I OFFER TO YOU MY HEART THAT BEATS WITH YOUR OWN LIFEBLOOD, A RAGING RIVER OF DESPAIR AND PAIN.

AND FINALLY, I OFFER TO YOU MY SOUL - THE FIRST OF MANY THAT YOU WILL DEVOUR WITH YOUR AWAKENING!”

Just then, as the final eye opened up, a giant pillar of purple fire rained down from above, completely engulfing Robin’s body in a pyre of despair. He screamed a cry of ultimate pain and despair as flames ate away at his soul. His silhouette could still be seen standing within the flames during the whole ordeal. When the flames died away, Robin was still standing in the same spot he had begun the ritual in.

But now a black aura swirled around his body. When Robin’s eyes opened once more, they were no longer chocolate brown, but blood red. The ritual was a complete success. Veronica smiled as she looked on at the transformed tactician, and both Marth and the Summoner started backing away.

“You are Grima, are you not?” Veronica asked the red-eyed male. “Your body is still beholden to me.” He leered at her, and for a second, the Summoner wondered if Grima was really still going to listen to her.

“...Were it not for that stipulation, I would have destroyed you on the spot.” The Fell Dragon growled. “Even if you did help convince my vessel to go through with the ritual to awaken me.” The Emblian princess smiled even more.

“Good.” She actually sounded quite happy speaking to the evil dragon. “Then, by my contract, I order you to rain destruction down upon the Kingdom of Askr. Make sure none remain alive... Especially not those interlopers behind me...”

“I failed...” Marth was completely distraught. “I tried to prevent this tragedy, but I couldn’t stop you in time, Summoner... I wasn’t able to warn you about bringing Robin out to battle here, and now Askr is doomed yet again...”

Discord convo that brought this about:

RyoNine (onetiredwanderer)-Yesterday at 10:33 PM

I had a stupid idea for what Veronica might try to do:

Force contract on (a) Robin,

Take them to the Dragon's Table after fetching the FE+Gemstones,

Force Robin to awaken as Grima [in theory, that should mean that Grima is also beholden to her contract]

Sic Grima on the Askrians

???

Profit?...

TacticianKnight-Yesterday at 10:33 PM

Why do I see Loki suggesting that?

[fraidycat-fr]

Lordgan Pt. 1: The Rise And Fall Of Sleeping Wolves

A child no more than five stood with tears in her eyes. Morgan watched a heavy droplet of blood spin down her leg, her knee skinned. Her mother knelt down.

“Always plan ahead.” Robin said, voice warm as she wrapped the scratch with clean gauze.

After that, she always planned. She always thought ahead of what she was going to do and what could happen. She learned how to predict simple things at first, how to pour water without spilling a drop, how to throw something and have it land where she wanted, how to say what she meant and have it be understood.

A sprained ankle, a limp, found moments after her first battle. Robin’s shoulder under her arm, half-comforting and half-infuriating. She was hardly over 12, her sword and tome weighed almost as much as she did.

“Always look before you leap.” Robin said, his touch gentle as he held her weight and guided her off the field.

After that, she always looked first. Head up, gaze on the horizon. Morgan’s eyes were the bluest steel, locked onto the enemy while in the fray, set to scan high and aim higher. She learned how to calculate risk, how to use her eyes to find fault in her foes. After that, Morgan was known for paying attention.

A teenaged Morgan gripped at her arm, though no blood spilled from her. Robin was at her side, deflecting the blow that would’ve ended her. She couldn’t lift her arm and panic filled her.

“Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” Robin said, taking the warhammer from her aching hand and putting a light rapier in it.

After that, Morgan picked her battles. She planned ahead and payed attention, always bringing that which was suited for her, always fighting the enemies she knew she could bring down. In suredness she found solace.

Tempered, attentive, careful and above all ambitious. Morgan soon caught the eye of the Ylissian higher-ups, and given her birth status, elevated her to a small lordship on the border to Plegia.

Her parents were so proud of her.

She protected her people with her own flesh and blood, and they in turn helped her heal and live in comfort. Lord Morgan. As she lead her own small garrison of shepherds she found her own tactician, one who she could trust, one who she nearly wed.

They were simpler and more thoughtful than she. Born of commonfolk with a brilliant mind, they were nothing like Morgan and that’s what made them such an effective team. She was ballistic, impulsive, always eager to fight while they were the diplomat, cautious and prepared to plan.

Life was good. Lord Morgan was the prodigy child from the prodigy tactician doing exactly what the world expected from her. And then the rural bands in Plegia began to attack. Her villages were razed, the people she knew by name began to be plucked from their houses in the night and found strapped to whittled logs and funeral pyres.

She planned ahead. Morgan would lead several assaults to the north, hitting key strongholds and nests of brigands in order to weaken their supply network. She kept her eyes up, always listening to her scouts and flying with the pegasus knights. She always used her time to think before battle, waging losses and gains under the nebulous price of a life. It wasn’t easy, but she did not become a Lord for an easy life.

Blade in one hand and her tome left behind, Lord Morgan earned her name in battle - narrowly avoiding the destruction of another townstead. As the townsfolk lifted her name to the skies, just beyond the horizon, another town burned to a crisp.

The frown on her tactician was deep, but they assured her that the damage was nearly impossible to avoid with what little they had. Morgan slammed her fist on the wartable.

Nothing was impossible. Not to her.

Morgan fought in more battles, she left her lofty home to dedicate all her time to the cause. Her blade was sharpened, reforged, it gained a name of it’s own but not without price. It didn’t always take her to victory, at times she was forced to retreat.

She didn’t like that. She could do better. She wasn’t a quitter.

The firelight of dying childhood homes lit her navy blue eyes, she watched as another town met with the earth again. From the ridge she held her wounds together, though she wished it was as easy to hold together a broken heart. She wasn’t the lord they deserved.

Her tactician told her that the future looked bleak. The next battle could not be won. She gripped her sword. They changed the subject.

In the middle of the night Morgan lead a battalion through the darkness, moving swiftly and pointedly through the streets. Not to infiltrate, not for any reason they were given. It was Morgan’s command and Morgan’s alone. They knew that, and they still followed.

The battle at the border rose with the sun, at first light the ylissians rushed headlong into the waiting enemy lines. As if on the tongue of valkyries the song of metal on metal rang freely through the air, the spray of blood and rip of cloth mere punctuation to the beat that Morgan knew how to dance to. Many fell to her blade, but many more kept approaching.

The sun was at its peak, and the heat of battle had the army fatigued. Her own began to fall in droves, in one moment she was surrounded by comrades and in the other by corpses. Even so, she refused to give another inch to the warring nation. She would not lose another battle, never again would they see her back.

The sun began to wane, it’s red veil coating the bloodsoaked land. Nobody dissented from her order. Nobody had turned tail to leave, and they paid the price for it. The bloodtoll she asked was simply too high, and by the time that the first stars began to peek through a ruddy sky she was all but alone. Her lifelong friend to her left, taken out by an arrow. Her most trusted retainer to her right, cut down by a blade. Morgan had become an army of one in a world of enemies. She grit her teeth and held out her silver sword, skin striped with oozing cuts and knees shaking with fatigue.

She ran.

Bleeding, stumbling, eyes low and without thought she ran. It took her days, so lowly that she stole a bolt of cloth to bind her wounds and make a hooded cloak - she had to return as soon as possible.

However upon passing through the open gates not once did anybody look up high enough to glean her figure. Mourning folks pooled aimlessly in the streets, grieving their own, their safety, and their lord.

She witnessed her own funeral. It was beautiful, adorned with black and blue roses with a golden memoir made of her old weapons. Her tactician was sobbing over the empty casket. Though her heart yearned, it was going to be better this way. Her tactician would find another lord, one more capable than she was, one who could save them in their darkest hour. As she turned she felt her guilt drag her back, they didnt deserve to lose her either.

Thousands died for her, but thousands still lived for her. Who was she to abandon them?

She swallowed the thought, though found herself collecting her mail one last time. It was a veritable bushel of letters that weighed more than a cat. She’d been gone from home a long time it seemed, she’d assumed that her tactician would care for it, but… perhaps they had bigger problems in this life than her mail. She took a peek at the sender.

Robin. Of course, they would send letters. She flipped through more letters. Robin, Robin, Robin. Tears pricked her eyes, guilt gnawed at her chest knowing what letter they would receive in return. Leafing through them she opened one that looked the least dog-eared.

“We’re so proud of you.” the letter read. She peeled open another.

“We miss you terribly.” the words said. She peeled open another.

“You’ll always be our little girl.”

The words echoed in her mind as she left town for good.

For the rest of her life, no poised quill could ever sum the words to explain her selfishness. No amount of ink or paper could quantify something that wasn’t betrayal. How do you tell the tacticians that raised you that you ignored your own tactician? How could she pour over that paper without dotting it with tears? Without admitting she left her selfishness?

They deserved to know. They couldn’t know. Nobody could know. For them, for herself, for her people, nobody could ever know she walked off that battlefield alive.

She wished she didn’t.

[rinplup]

I just wanted to make a master post of fire emblem fics that I like so I don’t have to go searching for them. (p.s. it’s going to be like 99% chrobin, sorry not sorry.)

I will put them under the undercut for y’all though, cause idk how long it’ll get. CHECK IT OUT IF YOU WANT. 

25 Lives -  Time after time, life after life, Chrom will follow Robin.

A Gentle Whisper - Chrom is fairly certain he's slowly turning into a nuisance.(or: Chrom and Robin slowly fall in love, with slight canon divergence)

A Pair of Eyes -  Lucina watches her father and his tactician from afar and wonders how her father is so blind. Friendly Lucina/DLC!Marth, onesided F!Robin/Chrom, implied Chrom/Sumia.

A Will and a Way -  Robin makes a vow knowing she must break it; Chrom is left to deal with the aftermath. Main timeline. (Rated M)

An Undesirable Mark -  He couldn't wrap his head around the concept that someone had asked him out on a date instead of it being the other way around. It was jarring, to say the least. (Luci/Male Robin, Female Morgan/Inigo)

better places -  "There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know," he says with a chuckle, and suddenly he feels years younger.

Blood of Dragons -  Ylisse carries a history of dragons, and stories whisper of their powers mingling with Exalts and Grimleal. To a prince and tactician they are only tales, until a fateful night burns away myth and makes it all too real. Together they will have to face down kings, conquerors, and what lurks in their own blood. [AU: Female Avatar/Chrom]

By His Side -  He was all she remembered and her only companion in this ruined world. A young Lucina as she is raised by Robin in a world Grima destroyed. AU

Cycle -  Robin is a young woman who bakes cakes during the day, sleeps at night, and drinks on weekends. She does not wage wars, fight demons, or solve dating issues. Yet, somehow by divine mistake, she's found herself doing just that. Clearly, someone has her confused with another Robin... Rated M for violence, language, and mature themes.

Exhume - She knows her name starts with an R, but not much else. Un-life as a Risen is dull, until a chance meeting with a group of survivors known as the Shepherds changes her outlook entirely, and breathes something back into a dying world.

Evening the Score -  "Chrom!" she shouted. "Pull my hair one more time and I'll knock your teeth out!" [Sully, Chrom, and the shenanigans that ensue when you leave a bunch of preteens under Frederick's not-quite-omniscient supervision.]

Flowers for a Funeral -  Maybe they're both dead and they just haven't realized it yet. -Morgan, Morgan, and Avatar/Robin/Grima

For Lucina - “I’m going to speak plainly. That document describes your ex-wife’s intent to gain full custody of Lucina, and there’s a high likelihood you could lose your daughter.” | Chrom only has one choice if he intends to keep his daughter, and Robin's the only one who can help him.

House on the Hill -  The only thing necessary for the triumph of horror is that smart choices not be made. (Male Robin/Lucina)

In the Presence of Gods - When Princess Robin discovers her father wants to sacrifice the wounded amnesiac with the mark of Naga on his arm, she rescues him from the dungeons. Role Reversal AU.

Lamentation -  Even monsters have someone to mourn their loss. -Lucina, Morgan, and the shades of grief.

Multiverse -  In the infinite possible realities that exist, most things stay the same—but Robin is always different. A series of one-shots exploring Chrom's relationships (platonic and otherwise) with a different version of Robin in each chapter.

My Oedipus Complex -  All little Morgan wants is his mother's absolute love and attention...but Chrom keeps getting in the way. (It’s actually not incestuous).

Mother Tongue - The resemblance is uncanny, and she doesn’t know why she’s never thought to ask either Morgan or their mother. Still, she’d rather know, so she finally asks. “Morgan, do you know Plegian?”

On the Topic of Pockets - Robin's coat has pockets. For some reason, the thought is baffling.

Or The War Is Lost -  Quickly Robin! You must make more bunnies or the war is lost! Robin x Yarne, Robin x Chrom. One Shot. Crack-filled as it can be.

Paternity -  "Papa, they're sleeping again." | Robin & Chrom bring their twins home, and Lucina takes being an older sister very seriously. | Modern AU fluff for Father's Day

Pie -  In which Sumia and Chrom really like each other and it could be so easy, but Sumia does end up feeling guilty on more than one occasion. [One-shot; Office-Worker AU]

Prologue to the Prologue -  Bits and pieces of Lucina's life before and after her leap through time and space. Awakening through Lucina's eyes. The trials and tribulations she faces while trying to change her fate. Follows the canon storyline with some interludes.

Protected -  Robin has always assumed he is just a beta - until he goes into his omega heat, shortly after Gangrel is defeated and peace has returned to the realm. But Chrom is away on business… and he's the only alpha that Robin wants to mate with. (Rated M)

Pursuit -  (Modern AU; Slow-Build) Chrom, a young police officer, is set on making Ylisse a better place by eradicating the creeping effects of the Grima Syndicate. Robin, the daughter of Validar Grima, is trying to live a normal life as a trauma surgeon in Ylisstol. As the two develop feelings for one another, Robin is torn between her morals and her loyalty to her family.

Robin for Exalt -  Chrom sucks at his job. Robin decides its time to bring a splash of democracy to Ylisse.

Run-In -  Robin stumbles in on Chrom in the bath, and proceeds to realize just how much he likes Chrom. [genderswap--male Robin, female Chrom] (Rated Explicit)

Sister Complex - in which Chrom lets his imagination and older brother instincts get the better of him  

The Arrangement -  AU Chrom's father lives and the Plegia-Ylisse war continues until Chrom is nineteen. With Gangrel's death and the final treaty between the two countries being signed, Chrom meets the daughter of the new King of Plegia: Princess Robin. Little does he know that their parents have sealed their fates along with the treaty by arranging their marriage. (Chrobin / Arranged Marriage AU) (Rated M)

The Best of Worst Kind of Gossip -  Morgan has a thing for Lucina. And Chrom isn't sure he likes that.

The Heart of the Moon - Something stalks the forests south of Ylisstol. A nightmare made real, with too many burning eyes and jagged teeth. At the behest of his sister, Prince Chrom goes to face the beast...and finds far more than he imagined in the dark woods. A young woman seeks escape from the monster that has made her a prisoner -- but those words hide a terrible truth that may tear two nations apart.

A Fire Emblem: Awakening adaptation of the Norwegian fairy tale 'East of the Sun and West of the Moon.'

The Prince and The Plegian - At the height of summer, when the caravans creak into Ylisse, Chrom meets a foreign girl who is nothing like the stiff, strained life he has come to know. Twelve years old and never having gone beyond the city gates, that wild Plegian gives him a taste of freedom. Chrom/Robin with an accidental hint of Emmeryn/Robin.

Thoughts on Children -  The mothers of the army are wondering what their children may be like, especially if they had married someone else.

today begins and it’s all that we have -  Lucina realises, as she watches herself grow, that they are very different people, from two very different worlds. As an adult, she’s wide-eyed and happy, kind but with a sharp tongue, and she wields her sword much more reluctantly than Lucina ever had to. There’s something of brightness and life in her eyes, an innocence that Lucina envies terribly, deep in her bones.

[iturbide]

I loved that last snippet you posted! Though that does raise some questions, namely abt Grima. Him sometimes posessing/controling Robin is already cool, but what changed that he can do that? I'm super curious overall how he fits into the story, could you tell us a bit about him here? Like, you talked before how he was worshipped as Plegia's protector, and I'm curious abt how his character developed in this world

I’m so glad you enjoyed it I’ve been mulling that particular scene over for a while and trying to figure out how to write it, so I’m glad it turned out well!

but oh my friend i am always delighted to talk about grima c; 

One thing to note from the outset is that we’ve actually seen Grima before.  Twice.  And even when Grima’s influence isn’t at the fore, there have been moments when Robin’s reactions weren’t necessarily his own.  Grima is a constant presence here, subtle, just out of sight – and it all traces back to events in the last few millennia. 

So this requires some delving into ancient history.  A lot of things remain the same from a general timeline standpoint (though I don’t follow the Accordion because I take some issue with its progression of events; this ended up being a pretty solid breakdown of how I see the chain of events), but a few things are notably different, and they become very, very important. 

To start with: Forneus didn’t just get divine dragon blood for his experiment.  He managed, somehow, to lay hands on a viable Divine Dragon egg – an incredible, terrible feat given the fact that the degeneration had taken its toll on fertility rates and the Divine Dragon tribe had been decimated by the war.  He wasn’t just performing alchemic experiments on blood, he had the real thing and used alchemy to modify and manipulate it, which resulted in Grima having the strength and many of the same general abilities as the rest of the Divine Dragon tribe, but with some oddities mixed in (a few things he can’t do that they can, a few more he can that they can’t) because of how that magic influenced his development.  In the end, Forneus superstitions and his increasing mental instability made him try to kill his creation when it finally emerged, only to fail and lose the tiny dragon to the darkness of the labyrinth, which kept him safe from Duma’s destruction of Thabes and gave him room to grow until Alm and Celica accidentally broke the seal that let him out into the world. 

Because Naga had retreated to the eastern half of the Archanean continent following Mila and Duma’s exile (due in large part to the fact that she couldn’t maintain life in the desert without Mila’s assistance), the creation ended up settling on the western side.  His presence caused disturbances in the normal weather patterns, bringing more rain to the dry landscape, and soon enough the struggling desert populations began to flock to the dragon and establish a greater presence.  These first humans called him Grima – and once he realized that it was their name for him, he began to respond quite readily.  

Besides making life easier from an agricultural standpoint, Grima also offered humans shelter and protection from outside threats, both natural and manmade.  He earned his title of “the fell dragon” through his fierce retaliation against those who caused harm to his people and his lands – but in general, he was a very calm, reasonable dragon who let people do their own things and just liked to watch, frequently doing flyovers of his territory just to see what they were up to. 

Unfortunately, Grima never stopped growing.  He just kept getting bigger and bigger as the centuries passed, until finally Naga couldn’t possibly miss him.  Despite the fact that he showed no signs of degeneration and was by no means a threat to her people or his own, she judged that the risk he posed should he succumb to madness was too great – so she made her bond with her Chosen human and went to war with the fell dragon. 

Now, Divine Dragons with that much power tend to have some strange abilities.  Naga, for example, can hear the prayers of those who reach out to her (according to Nah’s support conversations with Morgan).  Grima, being a full-blooded (if somewhat strange) Divine Dragon, had his own set of talents, though he understood them rather poorly – namely the ability to read the thoughts and hearts of those he could lay eyes on.  And one look told him all he needed to know about Naga’s Chosen: he was, indeed, a powerful man – but he was also cruel and self-righteous, and Grima knew that if he won the battle then Grima’s people would be in great danger.  And with Naga’s backing, the fell dragon’s chances of victory seemed slim at best. 

So Grima turned to the people closest to him and granted them a small boon: not a full blood bond, the way Naga had with her Chosen, but a small fragment of power to help see them through the troubled times he feared would come.  That gift was intended to help protect the people in his stead – and from there, Grima charged them with gathering as many as they could and heading west, away from the battlefield to come.

Grima had no army, when Naga and the first Exalt came.  Grima fought alone, and fell alone, in a desperate attempt to save his people. 

And that should have been the end of it.  But what Grima didn’t know, thanks to his poor understanding of his own powers, was that the blood boon he granted those people would endure, passed down from one generation to the next over a thousand years.  He didn’t know that a cult would form within the faith dedicated to his name, devoted to restoring the fell dragon’s blood to its full might.  And he never, ever expected that there would come a day when a babe bearing his Mark was born into the world. 

Grima felt it, when Robin entered the world.  His body was dead and turned to nothing but bone and dust, but after a thousand years his soul suddenly had a physical connection to something, grounding him somewhere rather than simply existing formlessly and watching the passage of time.  Grima has been there as Robin grew up, has seen the world close-up for the first time in centuries…and has realized, too, the dangers in it for not just the people he left behind, but for this child who bears his blood. 

That connection is a strong one, and the fact that Grima’s soul is bound so closely to Robin means that things can bleed over between them sometimes.  Grima has a visceral reaction to Falchion, for example, because he remembers the blade that took his life, while Robin interprets the sudden surge of emotion as fear at where things are headed.  More often, Grima uses that bond to interact with Robin (though he interprets it as just mentally debating with himself, and Grima’s happy to let him think that), or to channel power to Robin when he needs it, giving him a surge of strength or magic to get out of a tight spot (basically I headcanon that Ignis is actually Grima lending Robin power in battle).  But when things are dire, and something Robin loves is at stake, when he loses himself to panic or fear or rage – that’s where Grima will step in to ensure that Robin does not lose that which he holds most dear. 

Grima’s careful about this, of course, never actually pushing Robin aside and possessing him completely.  They exist in parallel – as though Grima has taken Robin’s hands and begun to lead him through the steps of an unfamiliar task, affording them incredible power with Grima’s focus to make the best use of it.  That is a lot of energy to channel through a human, though, and it takes a serious toll on Robin’s body – he’s not kidding about the burning analogy, that much energy puts his every system into overdrive to increase his speed, his reflexes, his strength, his magic – meaning that even at his very best, Robin can only sustain Grima’s full might for about five minutes, ten if he really pushes it (and then his recovery period is significant).  

(Fun note: the first time that happened, it was completely by accident.  When they stumbled across that burned battlefield, Robin’s horror perfectly mirrored Grima’s own, and the resulting resonance pulled them into parallel with Grima getting his first actual taste of interacting with the world through a human body.  It was Henry that jarred them both out of it, and pulled Robin back to the fore while Grima ceded control.)

Ultimately, Grima has no interest whatsoever in returning to the world.  He’s content with the way things are, and being able to watch things the way he used to (actually it’s better, since he can get closer than he could in his flyovers); combined with the fact that Robin is intent on keeping Plegia safe for his own reasons, Grima is more than happy to lend him power when he needs it – and is actually quite pleased by Robin’s very peaceable nature, and the way he resorts to violence only as a last resort rather than fighting first and asking questions later (since Grima himself attacked only after the first enemy blow had landed). 

And as a final, random note: Robin can read people the same way Grima could, though not with the same clarity (he can’t actually read minds, but he gets very strong impressions when he interacts with someone for the first time).  Grima himself still has that ability, though, and when he’s at the fore he can get the full measure of someone from a look and then leverage it to its full advantage.