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this blog, alongside a few others, is going to be on hiatus for the summer. i am very busy, and will only be taking care of a few main blogs throughout it. this doesn’t mean that i won’t be back, though !! i’ll be right back to writing mycen as soon as the summer’s over.

thank you for your patience, and i hope to see you all again soon!

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i have been inactive as fuck hoo boy,,,, , hoping to be back soon, but i’m really busy rn - sorry for the wait!!

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hey y;all this is robin back at it again with another blog !! this is lachesis, and she’ll kick your ass with naught but a stick and some well-timed prayer. 

like/reblog if you’d be interested in writing with a selective lachesis from fe4 !

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“Back in my day, respecting women was my occupation...! Believe me, this is an art that I have simply mastered.”

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the mycen cipher card is giving me life

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Mycen can not help but notice how the boy shies away at the sound of his voice. Though he would like to think that he is an approachable man, he can not speak for how the youth thinks of him; so in reply to his apparent internal strife, the knight takes a seat beside where his ally rests. 

The night, though still young, would have to wait for them. 

“I swear to it upon my honor as a knight, Kliff.”

He has seen his fair share of troubles, tussled with the worst of emotions, having come out on top each and every time; he would be damned if he let one of his own deal with such a terror by their lonesome. Gazing out upon the star-dappled sky, shimmering with naught but a care in the world, they stand; free from bound, a blind eye having been turned to the realm of the mortal struggle. From there, he shifts his gaze to Kliff; longing, wishing for the very same freedom that lies awoken - unbound and unshackled - within the realm of the stars. 

“I will not tell a soul about what you choose to explain or withhold here. You can trust me.”

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❝ um... they don't look as good as celica's did, but... here. ❞ he offers a messily made flower crown, one that's barely staying together and he knows it. an embarrassed blush is high on his face -- if only he could make something better but alas. ❝ happy father's day, gramps. ❞

“Oh, Alm - really, you made this? You did it just for me?”

Mycen laughs, gently plucking the flower crow out from Alm’s nervous hands. Though crude, the fact that he did it just for his grandpapa surely does shine through in his less-than-adequate craftsmanship; With a ginger flourish, Mycen places the delicate thing upon his head. 

“Why, what on earth did I do to deserve a grandson such as yourself? It looks wonderful, boy. Thank you.”

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starter call ?(i guess)?!

like this post for some premium life advice from everyone’s favorite grandpapa

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@sablya replied :

“you can’t ban what you can’t beat, chump.”

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Alm and Mycen's C Support

mycen: wus poppin alm

alm: fuck off grandpa

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mycen is the gay battle grandpa we all deserve

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,,,  ,,,,,,    ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ,      ,,,,,,,,  ,, ,i spent about thirty minutes on this

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At that point, it became clear to him that Celica must have had some prior education on this topic. That, however, did not mean that he would not carry on tradition. 

While he acknowledged the princess’ comment, Mycen did not respond; instead, he began to ramble off on a tangent, wracking the core of his being to bring forth a triumphant tale of battles - barbarous and bloody - highlighted by a tender story about the love blooming between warring generals. Oceans rose, empires fell, boundaries were crossed, and lovers fell across the battlefield one by one. In the end, one of the lovers betrayed their dearest for the sake of their country. Heartbroken, the sole lover took his own life to be with the one they killed in cold blood forever more.

It was a somber soliloquy, a cruel melody, a bittersweet symphony of clashing forces amidst the tender waves of love; in the end, none of them won, despite how well things may have seemed to pass. 

“...That tale is older than both you and I, though I can assure you that it is as factual as tales can get. I doubt you are the kind to take things so lackadaisically, though as your grandfather, I can never be too safe. Now, then... There is more to this story - If you would permit me, I would like to continue.”

...Seeing as he wouldn’t take no for an answer, Mycen continued to speak.

“I want you to know something, Anthiese - be it man or woman that you frolic with, there are just as many dangers to your heart regardless. Though it may not seem like it, your old grandpapa here was quite the heartthrob back in the day - I was a careless heartthrob, though. There was one man who said that he loved me, only to put a blade through my back - and my heart - at the last minute. I was absolutely distraught. Infuriated. Chagrined. I do not wish for anything like that to happen to you, dearest Anthiese... Stay safe, ensure that you are both happy, and enjoy it while it lasts - but remember that nothing lasts forever.”

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starter for @thmatrge

The night, though still young in his own opinion, was steadily coming to an end. Though his watch was over hours ago, he could not help but remain outside, milling over memories of the past.

While nothing of great importance occurred upon that moonlit Wyrmstym night, something rather peculiar did catch his eye; a boy, one of the children from Ram, escaping his quarters and marching out into the night like a solder to the battlefield. Paternal instincts flaring, Mycen followed his tail for as long as he could while still remaining unnoticed, cloaked in shadows and held firmly in the stone cold grip of night. 

Seeing as he could no longer go unnoticed, laid bare to the bone under the moon’s shimmering, unfaltering glare, Mycen spoke; softly - as to not disturb his ally - yet firmly, stern as one would expect from a commander and father. 

“What has you up so early in the morning, Kliff?”