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f-ortuity · 3 years
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{Headcanon: Inigo}
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** note: this applies more for Robin!Inigo and Henry!Inigo, or any Inigo whose other parent is Plegian
     Inigo’s slight accent, while sticking out from others that speak Ylissean, is not something that he puts on when speaking, or has forced himself to learn, but instead happens to be just how his voice is. Due to being exposed to more Feroxi and Plegian during his infancy, but also being taught Ylissean, the boy unconsciously developed an accent that was combined sounds from all three together. Of course, it leans more towards the languages his parents speak– being Feroxi and Plegian–, however, thanks to being around the other children from the future, Inigo’s accent adopted a little bit more of an Ylissean sound over time. It is for this reason that, in his Fates verse, the boy’s accent appears thicker, as he is no longer around as many Ylissean-speaking people, and so, it gradually reverts back to being more Feroxi and Plegian.
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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Ishtar ( @companaich​ )
“I knew it! You like him, don’t you?” Tine’s voice was triumphant as Ishtar somehow managed to sink further and further back into her chair, a deep blush spreading over her face with each passing moment. “First that whole thing on the balcony you told me about and now this! Oh, Ishtar, I’m so happy for you!”
“Tine, please.” Ishtar groaned a little, running a hand over her face as she failed to fight off her embarrassment. For a moment she wondered if wishing that Tine had never developed her newfound confidence to this extent was secretly a bad thing. Of course, she was a lot happier and energetic these days, but gods be good if Ishtar absolutely didn’t want to be having this conversation right now. “It’s just some impossible fantasy, you know that.”
“Not too impossible I think. Come on, cousin, why can’t you just say something to him-” The conversation came to an abrupt halt, as Tine seemed to realize the lines she was crossing and visibly winced. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
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“It’s fine.” Ishtar sighed, dejected as she stood up and brushed off some of the crumbs that had fallen into her lap. “You’re right. I should tell him, it’s just the…everything. Besides,” She laughed a little here, shaking her head in bemusement. “What are the odds he’d even return the feelings? Let’s just keep this whole exchange our little secret, hm-”
Well, that plan was dashed almost as soon as she opened the door to leave, finding herself staring at a blushing and seemingly flustered emperor of all things. Her mind put two and two together and she in turn turned scarlet again, realizing that he must have overheard at least a little of it.
…gods, I hope he at least missed me talking about what he looks like with his shirt off. The rest I can at least salvage.
“…oh.” Ishtar’s eyes widened a little, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to find the words. “Oh. U-uhm…Lord Seliph. Were you…looking for somebody?”
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          “O-Oh, Lady Ishtar, what a surprise--”
     Beautiful. Wonderful. Truly, a masterful save on his part. Inwardly, Seliph scolds himself for not thinking of something better to say, something less foolish, and acting in a manner far less composed than he planned. He cannot let her know. It would be embarrassing, for the both of them, to live with the knowledge that the young king overheard Ishtar speaking about him in such a manner. The only problem is, with such little time to prepare for this interaction, Seliph finds himself entirely unsure of what to do, a sense of panic now nestling itself in amongst the shock. Surely, he must look like a fool-- he can still feel the uncomfortable heat piled on his cheeks, and the slight fluttering of his own heart. No matter how much his mind tells himself to calm down, or pretend to be composed, nothing seems to relieve the boy of either.
          “I-- no. I was--”
     He cannot look at her directly-- his eyes flicker around the space near Ishtar, but never land on her face. 
          “--merely passing by. Minding my own business,”
     To turn and scurry off to somewhere he thinks she will not follow would be terribly rude, especially after acknowledging her presence. Not to mention, it could be taken entirely the wrong way-- an action she could perceive to be one of anger or not wanting to be around her, which simply is not the case. His focus attempts to return itself to her features, if only to seem polite.      No. He still cannot bring himself to.
          “Is... something wrong?”
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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Leif ( sireneia )
  leif’s heart drops. he thought he was no longer asking for anything more, but he knows disappointment and frustration when he feels it. he’s a closer companion to them than he is to his own blood sister.
she even calls that man her father. she stops herself, but he hears it and draws his lips into a taut line in reaction. he wonders if it’d be uncomfortable for her to even call him brother.
maybe it will never grow comfortable.
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“ no crusader could be just a tool. that includes you. i know it! ”  he lowers his head slightly, but his voice is sure. he speaks from the heart and could say this speech even in his sleep.  “ you’re on our side now. that already means you’re doing something right. i don’t want you to have to worry about what king travant thought. i… ”
‘ i hate him. ’  the words were once so easy to say, yet leif can’t get the words out. when his eyes look back up to altena, his heart twists. he can never best her, but he can still hurt her.
she is all he has left. he can’t do that to her.
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          “--I understand,”
     Or, at the very least, she is trying to. He does not need to finish his words-- Altena can already guess what was meant to fill the silence that suddenly overwhelmed her brother’s words, though they do not anger or harm her. The man they speak about, even if vaguely, is one that both siblings see in different lights-- she knows that Leif’s own experiences cannot be ignored in favour of the memories she bears of him, good or bad. To argue on this would be futile, and so, the young woman refrains from speaking directly on it any further, instead opting to offer Leif something a little more agreeable to him.
          “Please, allow me some time to think it all over. Or to remember. I do not know what will be easier.”
     It is hard to describe, but something about the way he is acting tugs at Altena’s heart a little. Be it some forgotten, buried bond, or the knowledge that this is hurting him to a level greater than her own pain-- she cannot find herself with the heart to speak harshly. A light frown falls onto her features, pausing for a brief moment as though it might let the words she want to say find themselves. He is definitely difficult to speak with still.
          “Everything is vague. I can scarcely remember what our parents look like, let alone anything beyond that.”
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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Ishtar ( companaich )
“Relax, Seliph. I was just kidding.”
Ishtar’s smile grew a little wider, a little more sincere. Her hand shifted to brush over his as he adjusted the bandanna, an eyebrow raising critically as she tugged it back down a small distance. It was mussing up his hair again.
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“I’m already in the best company I could be in.” She said simply. She couldn’t really think of anything else to follow that up with, instead tilting her head and staring at the top of his critically. Mm. Well, she could hardly be one to criticize him for bad habits after this conversation.
“Although…the occasional mention on my looks would be appreciated. I’m starting to think you’re prettier than I am.” She paused, then shrugged. “You might be anyway, truth be told. Certainly your hair looks better with less work than mine.”
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     A light frown takes to Seliph’s features as she fusses over his bandanna, not annoyed by the action, but instead having never thought it had moved enough to warrant being corrected. Then again, it could be completely off-skew, and he would fail to notice until seeing his own reflection. For those reasons, Seliph does not protest or complain, instead choosing to focus on her last set of words to him and offering a slightly boyish smile in return.
          “...You jest. That would be-- is-- impossible,”
     Goodness knows how many times he has been nagged to present himself better throughout his life, whatever that meant at the time. Seliph has never been the sort to place much importance on appearances, much less had the luxury to afford fretting over it at a young age. Among everything else, and aside from remembering to do the very basics like some others in the army, it simply never crossed his mind. Perhaps it is just something else that the two of them place different amounts of importance in, though neither could be blamed for it-- Ishtar was raised in what could be described as the complete opposite environment, better or worse.
          “I hardly spend much time on, well... anything regarding that. You’ve seen it for yourself. Compared to you, I’m little more than a dishevelled mess.”
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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      One day...
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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Alm ( jasperlion )
He’s busy trying to blink the tears out of his eyes when his father speaks, and it draws his now perplexed gaze back to the man, turbulent feelings once more stirring, pulling at emotions he thought he had already buried. His apology wasn’t needed? He wants to speak, to interrupt and ask the old Emperor to elaborate, but Alm doesn’t trust himself to speak… and he’s sure his father is not finished.
And so, he remains silent yet confused, and it’s not cleared up when Rudolf finally elaborates. His anger was… justified and righteous? But he thought…
There’s so much he wants to say, and questions and words claw at his throat as if wishing to be let loose, but he tries to be prudent this time. Patient. Kind. So he swallows it all up, and gives himself the same moment his father had to try and pick his words carefully.
… or rather, by what he feels covers the most of what he’s feeling right now. “Father, I don’t understand.” (And it’s still strange, saying ‘father’)
His eyes dart about, noting once more their pretty open location, and tries to keep himself calm and steady. For his father’s sake. It helps that they’re still somewhat embracing— it’s almost soothing. His gaze, respectfully, returns to the man, although he’s unable to really look at him in the eyes, and settles for his beard, trying to blink away the tears that blur his sight. “B-besides the fact that I wasn’t… ready. We both know now I wasn’t! And…” The awkward chuckle he trails off with tumbles off sadly, and Alm sighs. “It’s not… it’s not much of an excuse. Stuff happens all the time that you’re not ready for, and I… I handled it all really badly.”
Ahem. Back to the topic! “Which is why I don’t… get it.” And just like that, his eyes fall back to his feet, unable to keep looking up as tears gather again in his eyes. “I thought it didn’t matter—! So why is it righteous and understandable for me to be upset over it? … And I can’t say I’m…not… anymore… even if I tried! But… I thought it was meaningless to be upset over what had to happen. That’s what you were trying to tell me before… right?”
He could let go of the man to wipe his tears, to try and regain his composure, he knows, but he doesn’t. Instead, with a sniffle, he leans forward, as if trying to hide his face from the world against his father. “I want to understand.”
     To say that hearing his own son call him ‘father’ makes Rudolf’s heart lurch would be an understatement. It is an uncomfortable sensation, but not foreign-- painful, but in a way that is different to all the other times this sensation has made itself known. No, there is no misery or agony that accompanies it, like those nights spent mulling over everything, but instead a strange sort of warmth. A prideful sort, and one that the emperor, a man who struggles to verbally express himself in the first place, could not ever hope to find the right words to describe. All he knows is that one of his deepest wishes has been fulfilled, and that alone is enough to make Rudolf listen to his son more attentively.      If only Alm’s woes could be answered with a simple explanation.
     Warily, a hand moves to rest on the back of his son’s head-- a silent response to the boy’s own actions, even if Rudolf is not entirely certain that it would be a welcome gesture. How could he begin providing an answer to something that Alm will eventually figure out all by himself? How could it be said gently-- a skill that has never quite been one that the emperor has grasped?
          “...You hadn’t any say. It is not as though you asked for this life, let alone agreed to the decisions forced upon you. That alone would be enough to make it righteous,”
     It is true, and something that the man has long found his own sort of grief in. Of course, Rudolf does not dare speak on his own difficult position regarding the situation-- it does not seem wise, especially when Alm is still in such a vulnerable state and so uncertain. His lips purse together for a second or two, as if to consider his next set of words carefully in an attempt to try and not upset his child further. Yet he has no experience, no memories to draw upon even with his nephew, and so, even when the father goes to speak, a subtle sort of hesitance clings to each word.
          “That is how I see it. You may take it as the answer until you find one yourself.”
      At the very least, that is what he can provide Alm for the time being.
          “My son, the reason you find might differ from my own thoughts. Whatever it may be... there is no wrong answer.”
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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{ ooc. The best thing feh has ever done is make Alm and Rudolf interact, and show us that Rudolf did/does genuinely love and care about his son but also does regret what he did even though he felt it was necessary
No, you can’t change my mind This isn’t up for discussion }
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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     He loves his partner so much
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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Sigurd ( of-invisible-ties )
“Neither do I, Seliph. From what I’ve seen, she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
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“I think your best bet is talking to her. So long as the two of you communicate, you needn’t worry overly much. If she’s uncomfortable at all, she’ll tell you, and we’ll do whatever we can to accommodate.”
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          “You would do that? I... really can’t find the words to describe how much that means to me. Thank you, father,”
          “But I will. That isn’t to say we don’t communicate... but I’ll be sure to talk to her. I know it might take some time, however... I just want her to feel safe here.”
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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@of-invisible-ties​ replied to your post:
Sigurd vc: Seliph, please ... it's not like I'm going to bring down an axe on her.
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          “I know you wouldn’t do that, father. It’s just...”
          “--I worry. Not about how you will act, but over Ishtar. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable-- or under any sort of pressure to do something.”
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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     Oh no-- they’re talking to each other.
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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Thank you for commissioning me, @companaich! I’ve never played Genealogy of the Holy War or Thracia 776, but I’m hoping it gets a remake by Nintendo!! We got FE Echoes, not to mention 3 Houses was heavily inspired by Genealogy, so here’s to hoping!! >_<
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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{ ooc. All right, it’s been a few weeks and I’ve finally settled into a routine, so This is how my blogs are going to function while I’m doing honours– so for this year
Writing will be done on the weekends, as I currently have no time to write during the weekdays
Replies/etc. will be queued to post throughout the week, along with headcanons and reblogging art/related stuff to the blog to fill some gaps
This is just how its going to have to be, since I don’t really want to be stressing myself out over tumblr, of all things, when I already have a lot on my plate My weekdays right now are essentially: wake up hell early, spend all day up in the lab, and have maybe a few hours to myself before sleeping. I’m not using those hours to write on tumblr– I’m using them to take of myself and get other stuff done
If you need to get into contact with me asap, just contact me on discord. If you ask, I can give you that. But yeah  }
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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Alm ( jasperlion )
His ears barely pick up the sound of Rudolf’s low, quiet laugh, and Alm tenses in attention and anticipation, even if he dare not raise his eyes to… see, much as he wants to. His father has already borne witness to his embarrassing cries once, he couldn’t bear the thought of doing it again and further embarrassing the man—
And all those conflicting emotions freeze at the following words, even if he knows it’s not about what he wishes to be apologized to. It… it won’t be, and he should never hold to the hope to ever be… told it even mattered. So he swallows his hopes and instead focuses on the now, on what the man is actually apologizing for, and allows himself an exhale and a loose smile, tension in him lessening except on his arms.
The hug instead turns a little tighter as his Father continues to speak, guilt swiftly becoming the most dominant emotion, even pushing away at his will to maintain his act of anger. “… Oh.” He says, softly, and is unable to resist the urge to finally look up… and up, and up (Rudolf is so tall…).
The hand at the back of his head had no right to feel so familiar, like… home, like it was meant to be there, and it’s a losing battle to not actually let his tears fall any harder. “I was seventeen, when you died.” He adds after a moment’s thought, voice softening to a near whisper. “… That’s a long time… to go without practice.”
He doubt’s he’d ever be able to articulate what he felt, being told his father… cared, remembered holding him, even… remembered him at all. And all the while, he had been…
He once more turns to face downwards, to their feet and their awkward positions, his embrace loosening yet not retreating. “I’m sorry.” He manages to say through the lump at his throat. “I haven’t been… very kind to you.” So much for the man’s words… before the battle that ended his life. How wrong he had proven his father, about being a man of mercy. … All he had to do was accept his lot, and that he had no right to feel as he did; perhaps it was true that the only peace that mattered was his father’s — offering his own for a dead man walking was the least he could do. “I’m sorry, Father.”
     Truth be told, he is uncertain what to do, left without much knowledge on how to console his own child after so many years of being separated. At no other moment does this become more painfully obvious than when the boy attempts to look up at his features, and Rudolf can properly see how much younger Alm is than him-- that he is still, in essence, a child, and one the emperor had hoped he would have had a chance to raise. A leader and warrior his son might be, but it is undeniable-- Alm is young, and it is only normal for one his age to act out when the world has been thrust upon his shoulders.      His own side of the embrace loosens after the other’s, lagging behind and reluctant, however the father does not wish to trap him in something that would make him feel uncomfortable.
          “Your apology is not needed, Alm,”
     He falls into a small bout of silence, mulling over his words so that something careless would not be said-- something that would inadvertently upset or offend the other.
          “Any anger you have shown towards me has been justified and righteous. I would not have expected you to act otherwise,”
     Silently, Rudolf reminds himself it is little more than what he deserves, for sending his son away; from separating a son, his own son, from his father and keeping that information hidden. Indeed, the emperor cannot find it in his heart to feel anything but pity, yet even then, it is not the condescending sort. In some ways, Alm must be stronger than he is, dealing with so much and still finding the will to continue pressing forward, unlike himself who wallowed in his own misery and pushed onward towards the man’s demise. Of course, now is not the time to say something so grim-- the last thing the boy needs is to have words like that imparted on him--, so Rudolf simply allows that ghost of a smile to return to his features.
          “Perhaps it is I who should have considered how you felt, rather than assuming you were ready to confront me.”
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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{Headcanon: Inigo}
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** note: this applies more for Robin!Inigo and Henry!Inigo, or any Inigo whose other parent is Plegian
     Inigo’s slight accent, while sticking out from others that speak Ylissean, is not something that he puts on when speaking, or has forced himself to learn, but instead happens to be just how his voice is. Due to being exposed to more Feroxi and Plegian during his infancy, but also being taught Ylissean, the boy unconsciously developed an accent that was combined sounds from all three together. Of course, it leans more towards the languages his parents speak– being Feroxi and Plegian–, however, thanks to being around the other children from the future, Inigo’s accent adopted a little bit more of an Ylissean sound over time. It is for this reason that, in his Fates verse, the boy’s accent appears thicker, as he is no longer around as many Ylissean-speaking people, and so, it gradually reverts back to being more Feroxi and Plegian.
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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{ ooc. I’m feeling Emotional about Robin!Inigo again
this poor boy }
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f-ortuity · 4 years
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Ishtar ( companaich )
“I don’t understand it myself, really. But…I look at them, and while I remember why I did it, they also help me remember that it’s not like then anymore.” Ishtar said in a slightly dull voice, returning the embrace with one arm as she lifted the other to stare at her gloves critically.
After a moment, she lowered that arm as well and returned the hug properly, resting her head in the crook of his neck with a slight mumble. Apologizing for trying to help her…it was just so like him, wasn’t it?
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“It wasn’t insensitive. You were trying to help.” She brushed her lips against his cheeks as he pulled away, a small smile tugging back over her face. She supposed she could try…she couldn’t remember the last time she’d tried to tease someone other than her cousin. At least, not like this. “After all, it’s not as if you’re just interested in me for my looks, hm? Or are some welts on my arms truly such a deal breaker, my lord?”
Her delivery was stumbling, and awkward - but it felt good to at least try and make light of it rather than wallow in the misery those memories brought.
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          “No, of course not,”
     The words escape from his form without much thought-- an instinctual response to what Seliph knows has been said in jest, but only becomes conscious of after he finishes speaking. He has half a mind to play along, however the thought of accidentally saying something she would take the wrong way holds the young emperor back enough for the idea to gradually slip away. No-- even if Ishtar is not directly asking for it, he will still take this time to reassure her.      At least then, the worst thing that could happen is the other scolding him for not joining in on the joke.
          “If you insist they are part of you, then they could never change how you look. A-And even then if they no longer were, my thoughts would not falter.”
     A single hand moves to nervously adjust the bandanna placed around his head-- a gesture he has long clung to in times of uncertainty that is easy enough to diffuse, but large enough for him to notice.
          “If someone were to judge you on something as shallow as that, you could be in far better company than them.”
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