✵ —— !

     hi there !  you can call me apollo ,  i’m 25 and my pronouns are xe / xem and he / him — either set is fine ,  i have no preference either way !  just please never use they / them for me .

     this is a low activity ,  private and selective ,  multifandom multimuse containing characters from fire emblem ,  dragon age ,  star wars ,  and more !  please note that private means mutuals only — if we are not mutuals ,  please don’t ask me to write with you ! 

     my current hyperfixation is fire emblem ,  which means that those threads / muses will get the most attention from me at the moment !

     please tag depictions of eye trauma ( meaning specifically eye injuries — i am very much eye horror friendly ) as well as any flashing images / gifs / videos ,  as i have a seizure disorder .  in addition ,  please tag images or mentions of t/nkerbell with #apollo don’t look ,  that way i don’t have to even see the word .

     if we’re mutuals, please feel free to fill out my interest check HERE ,  and if you want to ,  like my permanent starter call HERE — that’ll make it a lot easier for me when making starters and such .  my ship bias list can be found HERE .

     my full rules and muse list can be found HERE ,  but please note —

i have a zero tolerance policy for ableism ,  specifically with regards to dimitri .  if i see one ( 1 ) joke about dimitri being “feral” or any commentary that treats his psychotic break as a joke or a fetish ,  i will soft block you without exception .

several of my muses use pronouns other than what they canonically use .  please make note of this ,  and respect it . 

if you write c/llen r/therford or a chantry / templar sympathizer ,  do not follow me

if you write any character from h/rry p/tter ,  do not follow me

if you ship ardyn with any of the chocobros ,  do not follow me

if you write any nazis ,  fictional or otherwise — or you write with someone who does — hard block me

    THEY WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR EACH OTHER.  crow would go to the ends of the universe for them,  and he knows they would do the same for him.  he knows they have done the same for them.  his heart aches in his chest at the sight of them,  resplendent in all that the darkness has granted them.  even now,  they're magnificent.  power hangs around their shoulders,  pooling around their feet in an inky,  tantalizing display that seems to beg for crow's touch.  even cloaked in darkness as they are,  they seem to glow from the inside.

    crow would do anything for them.  they have embraced the darkness,  have bargained with it in order to save him from a fate that is nigh unthinkable.  crow would do anything for them.  they gaze at him,  beautiful and terrible and everything they had resolved to never be.  crow would do anything for them.  crow would do anything for them. crow would do anything for them.

    he falls to his knees before them,  a supplicant before their majesty.  crow reaches out one hand into the pool of impossibly deep darkness,  dipping his fingers into it in a display of adoration.  he gazes up at them,  lips parted ever so slightly as if he is going to start praying before their throne,  worshiping before the altar of the young wolf.  at the altar of his beloved.

    THEIR LIGHT PULSES SOFTLY,  CONTAINMENT FIELD DANCING AROUND THEIR SOUL AS THEY THINK.  erebus is tucked underneath apollo's arm as they wander the city together,  their own arm wrapped around their love's waist, fingers softly trailing along the metal of their body.  they're still wracked with guilt,  with the agony of leaving a part of themself behind.  a part of them that blames apollo,  that blames them and wants to harm them.  was this part always like that?  or did they start out simply scared,  afraid of a world they were never meant to inhabit?  erebus isn't sure they'll ever know for sure,  but they know how terrifying it must be for this other being.

    they were so scared,  trapped in cycle after cycle of pain and agony,  forced to make and remake the hardest decision they could ever have imagined making.  a decision they didn't want to make,  but had to.  the pain they endured for  —  they don't even know how long they were trapped there,  in that glitching world where there was seemingly no escape.  but when they did,  when they followed their heart.  .  .  there was apollo.  waiting for them to say where they were, waiting to rescue them.

    it seems to be a cycle of theirs,  each trying to save the other,  time and time again.  only this time it worked.  they have been searching for apollo for such a long time,  have wanted nothing more than this,  than what they have now.  the opportunity to be with each other,  more than simply speaking through holograms.  ( and apollo is.  .  .  much,  much taller than they had seemed,  even at the holoterminal.  their soul glows with the faintest pink tinge as they think about it. )  

    THE MEMORIES BURN IN HIS THROAT.  or perhaps they are tears,  though it is admittedly difficult to tell the difference between the two.  especially now.  especially with regard to him.  ze'ev does not want to admit what osiris likely already knows.  what he surely could tell,  based on the things aetius said to him.  ( guilt rises in his chest,  mingling with the pain of what was,  what could have been.  aetius deserves better than to be held against the ghosts of two of ze'ev's loves.  deserves better than seeing his husband curled around the cloak of a man who still yet draws breath,  but no longer exists. )  

    ze'ev never stopped loving osiris.

    he never stopped loving him,  and it is far from fair that those memories be stirred up again,  the memories of the casual adoration in the eyes of a man who disappeared,  leaving the bitter pang of loss as his only calling card.  a man for whom he was not enough.  ( sometimes he wonders if things would have turned out different,  had he been a guardian. )  ( he is beyond happy with aetius,  loves him more than he would have thought possible with a heart as wracked by loss as his own.  and yet.  .  .  he cannot help but wonder. )  

    his hand reaches out for the briefest of moments,  as if he wants to brush his fingers against osiris' shoulder.  and then he thinks better of it.  lets out a sigh.  turns away.

    ❝  you know exactly how much,  osiris.  it has been.  .  .  years,  but all the same.  .  .  you murdered the man i love to become who you are.  ❞    and ze'ev does not even have the energy to be bitter about it.  he is simply.  .  . tired.  tired of losing,  tired of grieving.  it is difficult,  grieving a man who stands in front of you.

    THEY THINK THEY WILL NEVER GET USED TO THIS.  the way xander is so intense,  so honest about his intentions.  it's different than anything they would ever have expected  —  not from him,  it makes sense that he be like this.  but they never would have thought that they could be on the receiving end of it.  ( no matter how much they wished and hoped and dreamed,  staring at their ceiling in the middle of the night imagining what it might be like to find a home within his arms. )  laslow's cheeks darken,  and they glance down,  unable to continue making eye contact when he's looking at them like that.

    CROW ALWAYS LIKES WHEN WOLF IS AFFECTIONATE,  it brings a bubble of warmth to bloom inside his chest.  his eyes flutter closed as they tip their helmet against the forehead of his mask,  the touch lasting only momentarily.  the slightest of smiles.  he loves them so much.  every moment he spends with them,  every display of affection or casual thoughtless touch makes him fall more deeply in love.  and he can't wait until they find  —

          FERDINAND  CANNOT  REMEMBER  THE  LAST  TIME  HE  CELEBRATED  THE  DAY  OF  DEVOTION.  five  years,  at  least  —  certainly  not  since  his  academy  days.  it  was  always  his  favorite  holiday,  yet  there  was  little  time  for  celebration  admidst  a  war,  and  even  less  cause  at  that.  

          but  this  year  is  different.  the  war  is  over,  and  the  work  before  them  is  of  a  different  kind:  rebuilding.  diplomacy.  politics.  and  in  spite  of  the  mountainous  task  of  governing  a  unified  fodlan,  for  the  first  time  in  five  years,  it  feels  like  they  can  slow  down,  can  BREATHE  again.  and  with  this  being  the  first  time  he  and  hubert  have  celebrated  the  holiday  together  …  well,  ferdinand  fully  intends  to  make  the  most  of  it.  

          at  hubert’s  bewildered  countenance,  ferdinand  grins  —  he  is  too  stunned  to  truly  express  his  joy,  no  doubt  !  

          ❝  DO  YOU  LIKE  HER  ?  ❞  he  reaches  up  to  run  his  fingers  through  the  inky  black  mane  of  the  mare,  and  looks  back  at  hubert  with  a  broad,  affectionate  smile.  ❝  her  name  is  NIGHTBLOSSOM.  constance  has  assured  me  she  is  of  only  the  most  exceptional  breeding  —  and  that  her  gentle  temperment  will  make  her  a  perfect  flying  partner  for  a  beginner.  ❞

    HUBERT TAKES A MOMENT TO BREATHE.  he counts to ten.  constance.  there's a brief second of irritation,  and then it is overtaken by how humorous the situation is in its entirety.  and then he laughs.  not his typical forced laugh,  the one he reserves when he wishes to make others uncomfortable.  no,  he laughs fully,  from the bottom of his heart  —  the laugh that only ferdinand gets to hear.

    his gaze alternates between the truly gorgeous pegasus and the truly gorgeous ferdinand,  and he reaches a hand out.  places it atop the hand whose fingers are entwined in her mane.  his expression is soft,  and his cheeks are ever so slightly flushed.