#tomestobetold

[of-invisible-ties]

@tomestobetold II @ Lissa!

It had been weeks since that fateful day when Chrom had been slain at the Dragon’s Table. Word of his death, however, was whispered only as a rumor. No one was sure what had transpired that day, but most believed he was dead.

Frederick was among them. The knight had mourned quietly, and had been there to support Lissa through her grief. 

As the weeks passed, Risen activity increased. There were more and more of them, and the Shepherds were called to deal with their swell in numbers.

Chrom should’ve known Lissa was among them. His sister, ever selfless, would fight for the people to the bitter end.

He hated that she had to see him like this. His revived corpse smelled of death, and, as time wore on, his memories of his life would dissipate, one by one. But he still remembered Lissa. 

So, he orders the Risen that surrounded her to retreat. His voice sounds hoarse, coming from a mouth that should not move. Grima’s power, which moved his body, tried to rebuff his command. Grima wanted death and blood.

He wouldn’t let them take Lissa. 

“I said retreat,” he orders the Risen. His red eyes gleamed with fury, and the Risen obeyed. He turns to Lissa, and his grief and sadness are written plainly on his face.

“Run, sister. I can’t hold them for long.”

[nobilismare]

@tomestobetold​ ; starter because I said so

Nailah had brought Rafiel to a place close to the castle with enough shade to not overheat the already sensitive heron. She had instructed Volug to give the two of them some privacy and not let anyone interrupt them. They were here for an important moment. One the Queen wasn’t so sure of whether it was necessary, accepting the man in front of her the way he was, with and without his flaws but it obviously meant a lot to him. 

“You don’t have to push yourself, Rafiel.“ She started but she commended him for wanting to try. It had been a few years since they first met and she knew how far he had come from the dark place that he was in, weak and hurt beyond belief. Any seemingly small victory was a great one and she admired his strength to stand where he was today.

“I won’t think any less of you if it doesn’t work out.“ Herons have never been in Hatari, no one even knew they still existed, but she had to admit that she was curious to see what he looked like. His large, white wings were already a sight to behold. To think she might be the first to witness his transformation... It was a special moment indeed and she didn’t want to take that away from him.

“If you still wish to do it, I’ll be right here.“

[armatization-a]

( @tomestobetold )

❝ Please don’t freak out…but I’m pregnant. I SAID DON’T FREAK OUT. ❞ -Lissa to Chrom

[ everything baby ; accepting ]

"What? What in the world do you mean, you’re pregnant?!” Of course she’d said ‘don’t freak out’ - twice. But this was a rarely seen mode for Chrom - protective older brother. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her, and didn’t take care of her, but he wasn’t exactly wrapping her up and keeping her safe from the world.

Maybe if he had, they wouldn’t be in this mess.

“Gods,” he sighed, hand in his hair. “Whose is it? No, I don’t want to know. Wait, I take it back - I do. Whose is it?” It shouldn’t matter, but it did. Who in the world would think taking Lissa to bed was a good idea? Vaike? Stahl? Oh gods, she’d finally given in on her crush on Frederick, hadn’t she?

He didn’t know what he would do if he found out. Shake them down, probably, and make sure they take responsibility. Did they both want a child? Was this an accident? Chrom couldn’t tell what was worse: an accident or planned. His head was screaming with a thousand thoughts, but he couldn’t articulate any of them. Come on Chrom, Lissa needs you. 

“What are you going to do?” he asked. What could she do? She was going to be a mother. Those few words kept swirling in his head. “What do you want to do?” There were options to explore, though none of them good. If the child had the Brand, then they would be too obvious to simply hide away in an orphanage.

What had Lissa done?

[sweptawxy]

Gimme that second born Mercidue kid.

Name: Barette

Gender: Male

General Appearance: He takes a lot of his appearance from his father, though his eyes are a pale blue like his mom (unlike the faceclaim gfdgdfg)

Personality: He's a little outspoken and brash, very emotional, he doesn't like hearing people talk badly about the ones he loves, but he also has a big heart.

Special Talents: He was never tested for a crest like his older sister, but he is pretty good at weilding an axe. (for chopping ofc)

Who they like better: He's a mama's boy

Who they take after more: Dedue

Personal Head canon: He's terrible at cooking and a clutz

[galeforged]

starter for @tomestobetold​​ || Benny!​

It felt... “stunted,” ever since he found himself displaced far, far away from home. For how readily verbose he could be on any given day, that was the simplest way Forwin felt he could word that he had gotten weaker. Magic may have been an art he deliberately neglected in fear of his identity being discovered up towards the end of his time in Fódlan, but from birth, he had always been predisposed towards the arcane. The ability to further empower his magic should especially come easily to him!

Knowing that there was some vile force pulling the strings behind Garon, however, made it so the lutist knew he could no longer afford to pull his punches. Yet, somehow, Saint Macuil’s power had changed. He tried and he tried, the sigil of his Crest shining ever-presently from his palm while he worked his craft by his lonesome, but each enhanced blast of wind magic proved weaker than he could recall, regardless of his repeated efforts. He exerted himself just as he usually would in the past, only to withdraw the same diminished result each time.

What he wished to understand was how this could have happened. Was it really as simple as finding himself lost in another world? If so, could there be some method out here that may help to restore that strength? With a frustrated sigh, the court musician yielded to exhaustion and closed his fist, fingertips still tingling from all the mana he expended. The intruder from beyond, wearing the deceiving guise of a Nohrian, will not receive an answer from training dummies, regardless of how much magic he cast onto them.

Besides, it was getting late. Now was as good a time as any to end practice, Forwin reasoned, so he spun on his heel—

“BENNY-?!”

—only to jump back with a righteous scare! The tall, dark, and intimidating ex-border guard appeared to have made himself the bard’s audience. With his failure to notice the larger man’s arrival—whenever that was—Forwin almost spooked himself into a heart attack! “Saints above—w-what brings you here so late...?”

[mementofloreo-archived]

"Baby's awake..." Lissa & Robin, for @tomestobetold !

"I'll get him," robin is already murmuring, "You go back to sleep, love."

He presses a kiss against the side of Lissa's neck before he pulls away and rises to tend to their son.

Owain's fussing is halfhearted and sleepy even as he squirms in his little crib. A few crocodile tears have rolled down his tiny face, and he reaches out with stubby little arms the moment he sees Robin bending down.

The fussing dies down almost immediately, once Robin has Owain held snugly against his chest. Tiny, teary Owain curls, cuddles close against his father. A few moments of bouncing and exactly two hiccups later, the baby is fast asleep again.

Robin is unsurprised. Sometimes Owain awakes in the night and fusses simply because he wants to be held to sleep. Robin's taken to checking on him first as a result. Because at times like this it's a simple matter to put him in a cloth sling and return to bed, sleeping propped up a bit more. Lissa doesn't have to feed him, they don't have to change him. One minute for Papa to get them settled and the entire family is able to return to rest.

Lissa has also gotten used to this. By the time he shuffles back to their bed, Robin's wife has already sleepily arranged their pillows against the headboard so that they both can sleep propped against them. He slides back under the blankets with Owain soothed by his heartbeat. Lissa ducks under his free arm to cuddle against his other side and he relaxes, idly playing with her hair.

There are times when Owain wails, when they're up for ages trying to get him settled down. Parenthood is every bit as chaotic and unpredictable as it is rewarding, and there's no doubt that once Morgan comes along it will double. But there are also tranquil, quiet moments like this. And Robin wouldn't trade any moment, hectic or otherwise, for the world. (How could he? Even the most exhausting days are filled to the brim with a blissful feeling. Basking in the reality of having a family, of loving and being loved. All the soft, gentle, human things that his upbringing tried to gut from him, now thriving and embraced. He would never give that up.)

[fckedawxy]

Dedue spots her from the corner of his eye, standing up so he can look at her better from where he was squatting. His shirt is tight, and he has lost no muscle definition since settling down with her. “Mercedes, are you okay?”

[winter-sword]

“  you talk in your sleep, ya know.  ”   -from Ingrid

"Hmmm, do I?" Gwenn murmured, nuzzling into the blonde's shoulder. Trusting her internal clock to tell the time right, there was still a bit before they strictly had to get up, so the blue-eyed of the two Knights was going to make the most of it by sleepily cuddling her beloved.

"Good things, I hope... Or, at least, nothing too embarrassing."

@tomestobetold

[noble-bloom]

@tomestobetold​ Seeing Alfred hurt like this made everything worse. Celine couldn't help but think about the worst when she saw him falter and wince in pain. The clerics and medics around here didn't know about his condition. What if they had missed something? So even as her brother reassured her, Celine still felt immensely anxious. "You can't do that," she told him. "Please, Alfred... just go lay down for a while, I'm begging you."

“You worry a bit too much, Celine.” Alfred sighed, but it wasn’t out of exasperation. If anything, it was out of his own worry - for her. “It’s not that bad this time, I promise.”

A small lie. It was holding him back, no matter what he tried to suppress the pain. But his willpower kept him on his feet. He had to keep going. Not only to make up for lost time, but to show that he wasn’t weak enough to be walked all over. He remembered when their Father also got sick - before the same condition inevitably killed him - how there were talks of the neighbouring nations plotting and scheming. How it was even being done within the same walls... He had to appear the backbone of Firene.

“I will rest for a little while, to ease your nerves, and I’ll get back to training later.”

[masked-paladin]

[ HAND ] ❤️-Rinea

At this point, it was more of a formality than anything, to take her hand and kiss the back after requesting a dance. Free as the Zofian Court was, even here, there were still a few rules. Sweeping Rinea out onto the dancefloor was done carefully, with gentle assurance. They could lose themselves in the quiet between them once there, the couple unlikely to part or even so much as cease dancing until the night at last drew to a close. After all, it was -- when politics allowed -- the one way the husband and wife could bear festivities. The smooth repetition and closeness to his wife soothed Conrad's discomfort and anxiety, while he hoped his presence could do the same for her own. A step or two slower than the rest, the pair only had eyes for each other, wholly lost in their own world where only they two existed.

There, in that moment, nothing else mattered.

@tomestobetold

[of-invisible-ties]

@tomestobetold​ II continued from here

His father had left him with quite the mess of a kingdom. Xander had found dozens of unjust punishments meted out to those who didn’t deserve it. Not to mention the survivors of Garon’s wrath -- they were so many provinces who threatened rebellion now that he was gone, and Xander had to get them back in line. That had been a grueling task, but he’d survived and Nohr was better for it.

Eventually, the king stumbled upon old documents from Garon’s time. Leo helped him handle those and kept record of everything, and one particular document had caught the king’s eye that day. It was written in a cipher neither he nor his advisors knew to decode. The decoding efforts were underway, of course, and they had finally yielded a location. 

Xander took his knights to investigate. Something told him that this matter demanded a king’s presence. His knights surrounded the old manor as he ventured inside. A force of this sort would startle anyone, and that was why he assured the woman he faced that he meant her no harm. 

She didn’t need his assurance. He could tell she didn’t fear him at all. Then she poses her question, and he furrows a brow, not following her implication. 

She was too old for her son to realize who she was. He’d always remember the mother he’d lost, but he knew her only by her youthful face. 

“Apologies, my lady, but I do not.”

“Have we met? And, for that matter, how do you know me?”

[nobilismare]

@tomestobetold​​ ; ask answered

Kagero: “Orochi, please don’t make this situation worse for His Highness. Please.”

"You know I was joking, Kagero. What’s a little fun between us? Had I known it involved Princess Camilla, I might not have pushed him to indulge her on this matter... But the stars are watching over Lord Ryoma so he’ll be fine!”

[armatization-a]

With a heavy sigh, Zelkov next approaches Lapis. He hates this and looks to be developing an anxious twitch under his left eye. "I will simply try to be as blunt as possible. Lapis, will you... be my date for the Day of Devotion?"

"I- WHAT?!"

No. Noooooo. No!!! There isn't anything wrong with Zelkov, if you ignore, uh, the ever-present darkness. And the way of speaking that sounds like he's always implying something. It freaks her out. A little. Can she say that? No, she can't. She's got to let him down gently. Kindly. Easily. She's never rejected anyone before.

"Oh, I would, but that day, I'm..." Well, the reality is she's planning on asking someone else as her date. He can't know that. She hardly even wants to tell her potential future date!

"I'm so busy that day, and-" She looks around, pantomiming hearing something. "What's that, Prince Alcryst? An emergency? Sure!" And she runs.

[sweptawxy]

“Not liking someone is perfectly fine. There are those who I am not fond of myself.” If he could point a stare at Henry, he would. And everyone was very familiar with how he did not like Robin at the start either. “However, spreading baseless rumors, misinformation, and saying things just for the fun of being horrible is not okay, and it should not be happening.” Though he stood down- slightly. He wasn’t happy about it but he did not want to upset Lissa either. 

[galeforged]

Zelkov cringes before he approached Vander and sighed-- "Sir Vander, will you be my date for the Day of Devotion?"

Valentine's Day

“The Day of Devotion?” he found himself repeating, firm with a hint of uncertainty due to his lack of familiarity with the concept. The paladin has been tending to Queen Lumera since young, after all, so while he is still somewhat attuned with the affairs of the wider continent outside of Lythos... certain traditions elude him.

Nevertheless, Vander believes he understood the gist of what Zelkov was proposing.

“I appreciate your good intentions, Zelkov. However, as the 32nd Steward of the Dragon, you should already know that I am devoted only to the Divine One. I cannot join you in the service of Princess Ivy, not even for a single day.”

Or... not.

[mementofloreo-archived]

'I want the K' RNG kiss prompts; Ashe & Yuri for @tomestobetold

#21: and then there's tongue

Ashe isn’t even sure what they’re bickering about- are they even bickering?

He hasn’t had nearly enough alcohol to be drunk. He’s a little buzzed, that’s all, but compounded with exhaustion, stress, and the cacophony of noise in this tavern...well, he’s having trouble putting proper thoughts together. He’s really not in a mood for conversation at all actually. He would have been content to just have a few drinks with his dinner, doze in the corner for a while. So he doesn’t really recall when or why Yuri joined him or what they’ve been talking about. Just that Yuri’s words are too many, too fast, and this entire place is getting too loud.

And with a tiny imperceptible click the wyvern rider sets his drink down. Fuck it.

“Shut up, Yuri,” it’s a hoarse and weary groan that rolls out of him. He thinks Yuri might pause, startled by the interjection. He’s not exactly paying attention anymore.

“I’m too tired to...to even words right now.” his hand is already reaching out to grip Yuri’s collar, pull him in with a sharp jerk. “I can’t even breathe in here.”

And he kisses him. Him and his stupid, smirking, pretty face. With those stupid eyes he could swear really truly glint when he’s up to mischief. But they see everything too, always watching, always calculating, save for the times they’re cast somewhere else entirely. (Somewhere lonely, somewhere empty, somewhere Ashe always finds himself wanting to fill up with something warmer and softer, but he knows Yuri would never let him past the wall-)

Whatever the case, Yuri doesn’t push him away. And it’s one hell of a kiss, all things considered(maybe in part because Ashe has been wanting it for so long, too long)

Their lips move over each other and Ashe pulls away just to gasp in a little air before diving back in ravenously. And he’s pulled himself flush against Yuri, feels his body heat, a palm flattened against his chest. And he parts his lips and rolls his tongue over Yuri’s bottom lip, tastes the tang of whatever he’s been drinking. There’s a hint of a groan on his breath when he finally pulls away with his head spinning. Yet for all the intensity it all only took a moment.

“Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but right now you need to find something to keep that silver tongue busy other than talking.”

And quick as a light, Ashe is on his feet, weaving through the throng of drunkards toward the door. It’s less about fleeing and more about getting fresh air, and he knows following him will be an easy matter if Yuri has any inclination to do so.

On one hand, as he’s stepping into the chilly air, that was damn cathartic. But he rubs his face, musses his hair, marches forward. For all its catharsis, now there’s an entirely different sort of tension driving him up the wall and exhausting him.

(He squawks a frustrated swear to the silent glow of the streetlamps.)