wulfhierde

[wulfhierde]

houseofreglay‌:

“No, they seem quite capable–” And willing. Quite willing. “–of gathering of their own information, honestly. It is both encouraging and frightening to glimpse into their iquisitiveness.”

Though, learning that Aelfric was not a common fixture in student life was something of surprise. The monastery did little to hide the fact that the dominant faith of Fodlan was pervasive in all aspects of life here… In one way or another. As a member of the clergy, Pent would have thought the man would have played a larger role… (Or perhap he was simpy misunderstanding the reach of the church, and the faithful populated any and all ranks at the institution.) Hm.

“Quite understand–I have ‘done my time’, as some would put it, in Etruria’s own academies.” But there was something about Garreg Mach that Pent couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t even anything that he had seen or had happened to him since he arrived; no, there was… a thought. (Like the feeling of being too keenly aware of the way one’s tongue sat in one’s mouth--Right, enough of that now.) Still readily dismissed. “Though I am aware it is hardly the same thing, and I don’t claim to know Fodlan’s history…. yet.”

He didn’t have the heart to quip back that he didn’t have nearly as much faith as Aelfric, let alone the lofty mistress he served–not when it was given in good will–so Pent turned his attention to the card in his hand instead. It seemed so empty in his hand… But then again, the other did confess to mostly keeping to himself. 

Pressing his ring to the card, Pent was surprised that it left no mark. Nor did it work the second time, and it wasn’t until the third that Pent realized that he hadn’t been touching the enchantment to the card but the surface of his wedding band which unsurprisingly did nothing. ‘Saint…’ Pent rather hoped, as he successfully filled a line on Aelfric’s card that the other did not witness that. If the man was suspicious before… Pent sighed and handed back the card.

Newly-signed card still in hand, Aelfric's brow knitted when it wasn't taken right away. His smile remained, albeit puzzled now, as he watched and finally registered the count's failed attempts to provide him with a stamp, and a quiet chuckle slipped out despite the decorum that dictated not to laugh at another's expense.

"I see you have family," he remarked, gesturing toward Pent's wedding ring before graciously accepting his own card when at last it was returned to him. "What do they think of you traveling so far away? I have heard that Elibe is no short journey from here."

[wulfhierde]

houseofreglay‌:

The Count watched Aelfric over the edge of the glass, a deflection already on his tongue in anticipation because there was no way the other man didn’t see the wince… but nothing followed. 

The amiable abscence of any preening or disapproval, however well-veiled, left him off-balance with his momentum. That was not how the game was played. It was an unnamable feeling that dropped a stone in his gut and twisted. (Though an unhelpful part of his mind pointed out that Pent had sustained himself for the majority of the evening on alcohol, coffee and an assortment of treats, which would have constituted as a series of poor life choices even years ago when his body had been “better suited” to withstand the abuse. Irrelevant.) He had time to ruminate on it later.

“A bit of a double-edged sword there, I think,” he commented, free hand searching for the folded card in his pocket and unfurling it. Some of the stamps were smudged, the cardstock folded up against the wet ink before the mark could dry; Pent couldn’t have told you some of the names of those who had given the stamps, the memory of them already been lost to the void. “It has been no small opportunity for the more ambitious of them to… scrutenize. How kind of you to be so confident.”

Like wolves, some of them, sizing up an unfamiliar shape in the dark… Then it clicked. His brow furrowed in thought, then he looked up from the card at Aelfric. “Have they pulled you into this game as well, then? Or is it simply because of my arrival?”

"A game?" Aelfric laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm afraid I must admit that I have little direct involvement with the students."

His own students were hardly students in any official capacity, after all, and the count had little reason to know about Abyss.

"They are not using me to gather information, if that is the idea troubling you." Another good-natured chuckle, lengthened as Aelfric's eyes dropped down to the crumpled card Pent pulled from his pocket. It looked as if it had weathered a storm, or been fished from the pond, and idle thoughts wandered briefly to the possibility - however slim - that the count had been the victim of a hazing prank.

"Of course they will be curious about your credentials," he pointed out, taking Pent's card and offering his own. "Though they are young, many of them are still heirs to several of Fódlan's most powerful houses. Nevertheless--"

Having added his name in simple print to one of the empty lines not smudged with ink, Aelfric passed the card back and smiled. “Lady Rhea has seen your capabilities. Have faith in her judgment. She knows her students well.”

[wulfhierde]

continued from here | @houseofreglay

"Yes, were I in Her Grace's position, I might have chosen to delay your arrival by a few days," Aelfric offered with a sympathetic smile. When the water left his hand, he settled companionably nearby, clear that - servant of the church though he may be - he was not here to chastise the count for the way he chose to enjoy himself that evening. The grimace spoke of things otherwise unsaid, faint shame among them, but Aelfric's eyes remained gentle and unintrusive.

"But I suppose the intent was to allow you a way to mingle with your future students before taking up the mantle as their professor." His voice, too, was soft and unassuming, but not defensive of his Archbishop either, and he released Pent from a look of judgment or scrutiny by turning instead to the reception hall.

"I am certain that you will do a fine job with them," he said warmly. "I have watched over the students at the academy for many years, and though they are diverse, they all have in common the desire and enthusiasm to learn."

[wulfhierde]

amidst the flash of jewelry, whirling laughter, and high spirits, a modest shadow of mottled browns stands against the wall, easily overlooked. it's still a surprise how aelfric folds away, forgotten, here, when it's practically a festival every time he comes down to abyss. ❝ so you came in the end after all, ❞ he remarks, then sighs as he looks the cardinal over. ❝ you're really not trying to impress anyone, huh. ❞ he sets aside his drink, extends his card. ❝ well, let's make this quick. ❞

With a good-natured laugh, Aelfric looks down and plucks at his robes - the very same he wears nearly every day around the monastery, clean and ironed but so plain compared to all the finery and gold that fills the reception hall now.

“The days when I had any reason to impress anyone are long-gone, I’m afraid,” he answers, though the humor loses its momentum and dissipates into a sigh. Gently inquiring eyes turn instead to the uniform Yuri has chosen to wear, all the more vibrant beside his own monochromatic attire.

“Besides, this evening is for you and all of the other students. What good would it do for a humble monk like me to steal away some of your spotlight?” His voice is still warm and the lines around his eyes testament to his geniality, despite the wistful melancholy that he wears like his usual robes.

“You make this sound like such a chore,” Aelfric teases as he takes Yuri’s card, adds his stamp, and returns it. “Try to have a little fun. But please, Yuri--” the laughter fades abruptly to quiet sobriety “--stay out of trouble tonight.”

[wulfhierde]

"Hi, mister! Would you sign my card, please?" He's hardly in need of signatures when his card is so full he had to snag another and not just because he ran out of dedicated spaces to fill, but it's clear the boy is having fun collecting as he looks up at this church friar he vaguely recognizes without name.

The card is half-shoved into his hands and Aelfric chuckles as he realizes that there is indeed a list of engagements under all the ink and scribbles.

“I do believe you may have the most signatures here,” he comments, turning it over to search for a space to add his own. There is enough of an empty spot for him to stamp his initials, but not without the ring of ink overlapping others around it. He doesn’t think the student minds, however, and passes back the card.

“I hope in the future you will be able to call on all of those you’ve met this evening.” A smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “That is the purpose of this, isn’t it?”

[wulfhierde]

With so many attendees at the ball, Sharena sometimes sees a Hero she's never met. Like this man. A bit boring to look at—mullet, some kind of priestly, holy-toity robe. Definitely part of the church here. Well, no harm in making /more/ friends, right? Plucking a mint candy and a cup of coffee from the table, she makes her way towards the loner, and when she is close enough, she holds out the candy for him. "Would 'cha like a mint?" And then a sip of her coffee, eyes trained on him, waiting.

The offering comes as a surprise. It’s not uncommon for the Abyssians to bring him gifts unprompted, but his contact with the students of the academy is so minimal that he does not think any of them could pick him out of a crowd. Still, the thought is there and the little candy represents a bridge. This is what events like these are supposed to teach its young guests.

“That’s kind of you. Thank you,” he says with a gentle smile and accepts the mint. It’s mild, but still refreshing, and his eyes wander over the student’s attire as he considers something he can give her in return.

“You’re in the Blue Lions house, I see,” he observes. “How are you enjoying it?”

[wulfhierde]

How bittersweet the reminder of days gone by. Past mirth has been recaptured in each new face laughing and dancing across the ballroom this evening, but the ghosts still linger at the edge of it all. Vicarious longing. Pride. Compassion. As his eyes sweep the room, Aelfric finds it all in the faces of his fellow monks and professors assigned to chaperone the event. A wistful smile settles into the lines of his own. The years have passed him more quietly than they have his colleagues - always the wallflower, the role of the supervisor at the sidelines does not chafe as it does for some others. He has always been here, watching from the outside, domestic and unvaried in his duties while, even now, Jeralt's steady flow of dangerous missions and dignified patrols has him absent from this event.

A shame that she cannot be here to experience the new cohort of up-and-coming nobles either, Aelfric thinks, but disappointment is soothed by the signet ring that hides away in his pocket. A token of remembrance for her, bearing his name. A symbol of his dutiful, passive patience at last winning the race that Jeralt has long forgotten.

But he is here for his flock as well, and as he makes another sweep up and down the hall, he finds Yuri and Constance easily within the crowd. They, alongside Balthus and Hapi, are his priority this evening. Their reputations precede them here, handicaps in this game of networking, and Aelfric will defend them as their shepherd.

Even if he has no intention of seeing them walk from Abyss.

Quietly he settles against the wall. As with all the other faculty, he is here to offer stamps to the students who need them. But for now his card remains tucked away and half-forgotten.

[wulfhierde]

swordofcreation‌:

The day is beautiful. Sun warms the ground and the people who bustle about under its pleasant rays. Despite the sun, cold wind chills the air, whipping through people, opening coats left unbuttoned and blowing back hair. For those inside the festival grounds, the air is tamer, the sun’s presence brighter. Byleth walks through the market. The festival is lively, and for that she is happy. The students at the monastery get to relax and enjoy themselves.  

Byleth is enjoying herself, she thinks. There is jousting, horse races, and other horse related activities, and Byleth watches as some of the participants care for their steeds. It requires a bond between rider and horse, they need to work as a team. Byleth considers joining, she does want to improve her riding skills. A competition probably isn’t a good place to start, though. She needs a lot of different skills to be the best teacher she can be.

There’s a tap on her shoulder, and Byleth turns, eyes landing on someone she doesn’t really recognize. She turns fully, expression open to whatever he wants to tell her. Byleth nods. “I am. Are you… from the Abyss?” She doesn’t recognize him, that is true, but she thinks he might be a part of those who had come from beneath the church. He’s smiling, but Byleth’s face remains blank, with perhaps a twinge of curiosity. She wants to know more about him.

Mention of Abyss comes as such a shock that the smile disappears at once from Aelfric's face and he finds himself at a loss for words. Abyss is not so widely known, especially his involvement with those who call it home, but he shakes the surprise away quickly.

"I beg your forgiveness," he says gently. "Few people on the surface know of its existence, and I admit that I hadn't expected you to be among them. I ask that you keep your voice down when speaking about that place though." He lowers his own voice by example and bows his head toward Byleth's ear. "Abyss has a terrible reputation attached to it, I'm afraid. But, yes, I am something of its shepherd."

Meeting her eye, he offers her another smile.

"I apologize for coming to you so suddenly. My name is Aelfric. I was a friend of your parents when they lived in the monastery." In a moment's quiet, he looks her over fondly and adoration lights in wearied eyes. "It was quite easy to recognize you. You look just like your mother."

Sepia [Aelfric & Byleth]

[wulfhierde]

Relationship Headcanons

☠ An enemy, and why they don't get along

☮ Who do they feel closest to

☯ Who is their foil (character contrast)

Ω Have they had any pets, or other kind of animal they're loyal to

♤ Someone they wish they knew better

♧ Someone who they know very well

♡ Who do they have a crush on, or who have they had a crush on in the past

♢ Who do they have the most in common with

♔ An authority figure they get along with

♕ An authority figure they don't get along with

⚜ A person they haven't forgiven yet

☆ A celebrity or famous person they admire

☾ Someone they have stayed late up thinking about

☼ Someone who helps them, or has helped them in the past

☂ Who would they sacrifice for, and how much would they sacrifice

☻ Someone they don't know well, but who they still have a positive impression of

☹ Someone they avoid or try to avoid

☃ Who do they consider family

۞ An ex s/o or friend

❀ Who do they depend on the most

ψ Someone they consider a rival or who considers them a rival

☞ Who do they consider a mentor

☟ Who are they a mentor for

♬ Someone who they consider a friend

❦ Someone who they have thought of in some sort of sexual context

❤ Someone who they have thought of in some sort of romantic context

[wulfhierde]

42, 45

Headcanons | accepting

42. Hobbies?

Reading, mostly. He picked up fishing as a necessity for his friendship with Jeralt, and still occasionally spends time by the pond with Alois (although that’s spent mostly just listening to Alois talk very loudly and watching the fish dart away from the surface). He writes, too. Contemplations and meditations, usually, but there are a few fiction stories in his notebooks. They’re a form of escapism, although he was much more prolific in his younger years. They aren’t embarrassing, but he’s only ever shared them with Sitri. Nowadays, he frequently rereads them to her when he visits her body.

He’s moderately artistic as well. He paints landscapes and still life, although he doesn’t consider himself to be of any talent. It’s just something he likes to do in his free time. His singing voice is also simple, but soothing, and he knows how to play the piano for worship services.

45. Superstitions or views on the occult?

He was highly superstitious when he was younger. He followed all of the church’s rules to a T and would become anxious if he missed steps in his rituals (or skipped any of his regular prayer times). He believed that anyone who didn’t believe in the goddess or practiced other religions was a misguided sinner, but also believed that Srengi curses were real, or Brigid was a land of evil spirits. He believed that the goddess knew every thought in his head, and anything bad that happened to him was a result of disagreeable ideas or sinful behavior.

Aelfric has significantly relaxed since then though. In the past 15 years, he’s grown to be more open-minded and sympathetic of others who don’t believe the same things that the church preaches, thanks to his work in a Abyss. He’s also come to realize that the church does a whole lot of fear-mongering, and he’s not about that anymore. His Faith has remained firmly at C rank in canon because of this waning belief and trust in the church, and as far as church officials go, Aelfric is probably among the most open to other cultures. He kind of just shrugs at superstitions now. He can’t bring himself to care that strongly about them anymore.

[wulfhierde]

7, 10, 48; avoid mentioning Sitri for the middle one if that's your default

Headcanons | accepting

7. Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time?

There is a fair amount of leisure that comes with Aelfric’s service to the church. One can usually find him taking strolls through the gardens, gazing at the pond, or reading in the courtyard. He visits Sitri’s grave daily and spends an hour or so communing with her, but he would hardly call that a waste of time. He’s spent the last 40-something years doing more or less the same things every day and feels no real pressure to accomplish anything, so he doesn’t associate guilt with these leisurely activities either. Of course, he always makes sure that he carries out his duty to the church and to Rhea first, but he very rarely turns down invitations for tea or a casual conversation.

10. Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

(I know you said not to mention Sitri, but...)Aelfric is painfully average, which is also the way he tends to describe himself. He almost wishes that he had quirks or neuroses or scars or anything else that could give his life some flavor (like Jeralt’s), but finds instead that there’s very little about himself that interests others. He doesn’t recognize his obsession with Sitri as a problem, because it didn’t start off that way, nor is he willing to admit that he probably downplays himself too much in order to play the martyr. Outright aggression has never been acceptable for him, neither have negative emotions like jealousy and envy. He was jealous of Jeralt and Sitri though. It just manifested as “I’ll suffer a broken heart because I only want her to be happy (which makes me a better person).” This is the way he handles a lot of things in his life, especially as he’s grown older and more jaded. He’s the victim who frames disappointments as self-sacrifices, which, over time, has made him resentful that he’s not been recognized, appreciated, or rewarded for them. Similarly, his obsession with reviving Sitri is veiled as “I will sacrifice everything to give you (and me) what you want.”

This is partially why Aelfric likes Abyss so much. His work there has always been founded in genuine generosity, but he does really enjoy the attention, especially since many Abyssians talk as if Aelfric is sacrificing so much for their sakes.

48. How do they express love?

Softly and gently. In his younger years, he was somewhat awkward and shy about the topic, and looks back on that time now believing that he had hesitated too much. But he’s never been very bold or dramatic. He expressed his love for Sitri in subtle ways - picking flowers from the gardens, buying new books for her from the market, sitting next to her during church services, offering to assist her with her prayers and duties, etc. He just wanted to be around her, but he believes that he lost to Jeralt because he was too subtle and unexciting. Easy to take for granted. So he twisted that into self-sacrifice as his expression of love. “It doesn’t matter how I feel as long as I can make you happy.”

He expresses non-romantic love the same way, and seems to have some adoration for Byleth when they first meet. He just wants to share with them, and would likely spend hours recounting for them the stories of his past if Byleth wasn’t in as much of a hurry. As an extension of his love for Sitri, he also wants to protect them, and does all he can to keep them out of the line of fire when he enacts his grand plan.

[wulfhierde]

The Excessively Detailed Headcanon Tumblr Meme

Send me some numbers, and I will tell you:

What does their bedroom look like?

Do they have any daily rituals?

Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?

What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

Eating habits and sample daily menu

Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

Makeup?

Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

Intellectual pursuits?

Favorite book genre?

Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?

Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)

Biggest and smallest short term goal?

Biggest and smallest long term goal?

Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

Favorite beverage?

What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?

Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?

How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?

What is their biggest regret?

Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?

Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)

Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)

Most prized possession?

Thoughts on material possessions in general?

Concept of home and family?

Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?)

What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

What makes them feel guilty?

Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?

Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality?

What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?

Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

How misanthropic are they?

Hobbies?

How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?

Religion?

Superstitions or views on the occult?

Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?

If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?

How do they express love?

If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?

Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?

[wulfhierde]

Send me "Librarian!" + a number and I'll grab the closest book, flip to that page number, and make us a starter using a random line of text from said page!

[wulfhierde]

Sepia [Aelfric & Byleth]

starter for @swordofcreation

The sun gleams with the last warm remnants of autumn, bright in a cloudless sky, temporarily chasing away the portents of winter. The leaves have all fallen from the trees by now, save for the evergreens that prepare for the snow that will soon sit on their boughs, and the people of Garreg Mach walk together in bundles of heavy robes and woolen scarves. For once the crowd that the festival draws today is welcome protection from the icy winds that have already begun to whip beyond the town's gates, as are the scents of fresh-baked breads, smoked meat, and campfires.

Though on assignment from the church to watch over the festivities and to make himself available to pilgrims who have trekked to Garreg Mach for spiritual guidance, Aelfric is as much a willing festival-goer as all the others. Memories of past celebrations paint contentment across his face as he looks on. Forty years have passed so quickly, he thinks as he watches shades of his youth in the timid young men who try to please equally timid young women with food from the stalls lining the streets. Aelfric meets the glance from one with a gentle smile and a nod of acknowledgement, and then turns away to browse another street. May he be bold, he sends in silent prayer to the ghost of himself in that youth.

Hands resting upon one another behind his back, Aelfric browses the wares presented down this street with no real goal in mind. Many of the shopkeeps recognize him, as he has regularly attended the festivals of Garreg Mach for as long as he has lived there, and he stops to chat with one or two who have found their businesses slowed for the morning. The same conversations. The same people. Aelfric offers what pre-packaged advice he has prepared for these interactions, and the shopkeeps nod enthusiastically as if hearing some groundbreaking idea. They part, though neither has been made any different from the conversation.

The street opens up to a wide square, sectioned off by a makeshift enclosure at the center. Knights clad in blue and gold tend to horses who snort impatiently, and the crowd that has come to encircle them talks loudly and eagerly about Faerghus tradition. Aelfric paces the outer perimeter, looking over the heads of those gathered with mild interest. Memories of the past once more overwhelm him.

His feet stop.

Those eyes.

Renewed vigor spurs him through the crowd, to tap lightly on her shoulder.

She turns. Yes, without a doubt. A fond smile quickly overcomes the surprise.

"You must be Jeralt and Sitri's child."

[wulfhierde]

As She Sleeps [Aelfric & Yuri]

take this starter @sinistravi

The corridors all look the same. The same stone. The same steps. The same cramped ceilings. The same silence. They have circled this labyrinth for hours, seemingly going nowhere. Wearing ruts into the ground as they pace the same halls - back and forth, down another flight of stairs, and across the same hall. Again and again. But any question or any sound that is not their rhythmic footfalls or the quiet roar of the torch Aelfric leads with is answered only by a sharp hiss. And fear that, even this far below Garreg Mach - this far beneath Abyss itself - someone will hear them and come running.

He can feel Yuri's eyes on his back all the while, but he does not relent in his decision for utter silence.

Deeper they go. Not even the rats that had skirted the walls by their feet some time ago dared follow them this far. Cobwebs caught by the firelight are dusty and empty, save for the stray insect husk as old as the monastery itself. Nothing stirs. No remnants of life have made it this far, as if the corridors had merely sprung from the earth with stone fully-laid, and still they walk farther into the darkness.

Without warning, Aelfric turns down another passageway and follows it to a dead end. The walls are identical on all three sides - useless to the untrained eye, but when Aelfric places a free hand against one, soft light spiders out from beneath his palm and across the stones. He takes his hand away, the light disappears, and then he presses against it again for the stone to rumble open to a pitch-black room. Still gravely silent, he enters and lights two candlesticks near the entrance, then beckons with his hand for Yuri to follow. The door rumbles shut and encloses them inside the tiny space.

Incense hangs faintly in the stagnant air, as if in the wake of a mass, and dampness wafts from the walls as if water sits on the other side of them. Aelfric slides his torch into a sconce and crosses to where a bed waits on the other side. Hands clasp, head bows, and the silence at last breaks with whispers of a prayer.

"Yuri," he says when he's finished, head still lowered, back still turned to him. A young woman dressed in the vestments of the church lies on the bed, her eyes closed and delicate hands laced over her stomach as one would find a corpse in a coffin. Her cheeks still full and fair, her lips still pink, as if alive. Yet her chest does not rise with breath. Tenderly, Aelfric brushes a stray hair back into place and gazes at her with a look that is as fond as it is mournful.

"This is what I wished to show you."

[wulfhierde]

❝ aelfric. there you are. ❞ crisp even in pleasant tones, his greeting cuts shard-like through the constant echoing din of abyss, crossing the space between them to precede him. ❝ your timing is impeccable as always. i might lead the people here, but nothing gets them excited like when you come down. ❞ his smile — genuine, puckish, bold all at once — fades to his usual look of nonchalant calm. ❝ i have some things you should take a look at. got a minute? ❞

Word of Aelfric’s arrival spreads quickly throughout Abyss, as it always does. It has been mere days since last he came to check on them, yet they congregate around him as if months have passed. Children beg for his attention, old men and women present ailments in need of healing, and each is acknowledged with a calm smile. 

“In a moment,” he soothes - a magical phrase that disperses his flock to their nests once more to wait until he has settled, and he is finally free to cross the sewers in peace. However, eyes are ever watchful, eager for his notice.

The classroom offers him a moment’s respite and in that wondrous silence, he slides a pair of old textbooks - far too worn for use by the Academy’s official students anymore - onto the shelves before he is once again called upon.

“Oh, Yuri.” The warmth flickers like a windblown candle behind a polite smile. “I apologize for the disturbance.”

The rowdiness in Abyss is not altogether unwelcome, however, and the sheepishness in his laugh is dictated by humility.

“What do you have for me?”

[wulfhierde]

Appearance headcanons:

body.

long legs. short legs. average legs. slender thighs. thick thighs. muscular thighs. skinny arms. soft arms. muscular arms. toned stomach. flat stomach. flabby stomach. soft stomach. six pack. beer belly. lean frame. slender frame. muscular frame. voluptuous frame. petite frame. lanky frame. short nails. long nails. manicured nails. dirty nails. flat ass. toned ass. bubble butt. thick ass. small waist. thick waist. narrow hips. average hips. wide hips. big feet. average feet. small feet. slender feet. calloused feet. calloused hands. soft hands. big hands. average hands. small hands. long fingers. short fingers. average fingers. broad shoulders. underweight. average weight. overweight.

height.

shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm to 150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. taller than 2 m.

skin.

pale. fair. rosy. olive. dark. tanned. blotchy. smooth. acne. dry. greasy. freckled. scarred.

eyes.

small. large. average. grey. brown. black. blue. red. pink. green. gold. hazel. doe-eyed. almond. round. close-set. wide-set. squinty. monolid. heavy eyelids. upturned. downturned.

hair.

thin. thick. fine. normal. greasy. dry. soft. shiny. curly. frizzy. wild. unruly. straight. smooth. wavy. floppy. cropped. pixie cut. afro. short. shoulder length. back length. waist length. floor length. buzz cut. bald. jaw length. mohawk. undercut. white. platinum blonde. golden blonde. dirty blonde. ombre. light brown. mouse brown. chestnut brown. golden brown. chocolate brown. dark brown. slate. jet black. ginger. auburn. unnatural colour. streaked. thin eyebrows. average eyebrows. thick eyebrows.

tattoos / piercings.

full sleeve. thigh tattoo. shin tattoo. wrist tattoo. lower back tattoo. hip tattoo. hand / finger tattoo. foot tattoo. neck tattoo. face tattoo. chest tattoo. one tattoo. a few here and there. multiple. no tattoo. monroe piercing. nose piercing. septum. nipple piercing. genital piercing. industrial piercings. earlobe piercing(s). prince albert piercing. eyebrow piercing. tongue piercing. lip piercing. tragus piercing. angel bites. labret. gauges. navel piercing. inverse navel piercing. cheek piercing. smiley. nape piercings. no piercings.

cosmetics.

light eyeliner. heavy eyeliner. cat eyes. mascara. fake eyelashes. matte lipstick. regular lipstick. lip gloss. chapstick. red lips. pink lips. dark lips. bronzer. highlighter. eyeshadow. neutral eyeshadow. smokey eyes. colourful eyeshadow. blush. lip liner. light contouring. heavy contouring. powder. matte foundation. shiny foundation. concealer. wears makeup regularly. wears it from time to time. never wears makeup.

scent.

floral. fruity. perfumes. aftershave. cocoa. moisturizer. natural soap. shampoo. cigarettes. leather. sweat. food. incense. marijuana. cologne. whiskey. wine. fried food. blood. fire. metal. rain. grass. ocean. autumn leaves. baked bread. smoke. campfire. lavender. trees. musk. rose. gingerbread. peppermint. oak. honey. lemon. vanilla. coffee. cake. hyde.

clothes.

*mostly modern HCs

masculine. feminine. androgynous. jeans. tight pants. cargo pants. overknee socks. tights. leggings. yoga pants. miniskirt. loose skirt. form fitting dress. cardigans. blouse. long-sleeved shirt. button up shirt. graphic shirt. T-shirt. sports shirt. sweatpants. tank top. cut off shirt. designer. high street. online stores. thrift. lingerie. maxi dress. sundress. suit and tie. cocktail dress. high slit dress. scarves. loose clothing. tight clothing. jean shorts. sweater. sweater vest. khaki pants. hoodie. harem pants. kimono. basketball shorts. boxers. briefs. thong. hotpants. hipster panties. bra. sports bra. crop top. corset. leotard. polka dots. stripes. glitter. cotton. silk. lace. leather. velvet. chemise. patterns. florals. neon colours. pastels. neutral colours. black. dark colours. faux fur.

shoes.

sneakers. slip-ons. flats. slippers. sandals. high heels. kitten heels. ankle boots. combat boots. boots. knee-high boots. platforms. stripper heels. bare feet. loafers.

Tagged by: none, snagged from one of my indie blogs

Tagging: all of TOA, go go go