ETERNITY WITH YOU

   ▹     ❝ you can do anything you set your mind to, but you won’t. ❞ @ marianne makes most sense but have fun with whoever u want   /   @thornvows​

dorothea has always been blunt,   to the point   ---   never a wasted word nor breath,   every statement intentional and purposeful.   she acts how she wants to act,   genuine and sure,   and it’s admirable.   it makes marianne envious to a degree:   how,   she wonders,   it must be to live with clarity.   to be outspoken and honest,   full of vigor and vitality.   she shines   ---   brighter than the stars,   than the sun itself.   gods themselves envy her. 

it isn’t easy.   marianne knows dorothea has her fair share of troubles and difficulties that leads her to such a path.   for all of her life,   it is guarded:   a rose in its bloom,   thorns and vine warped like a barrier.

and as plants do,   they grow under the most difficult circumstances.   including cracks where it does not belong.

❝   i   ...   ❞

true to marianne’s nature,   she trails off,   words dying before they can leave her tongue.   they are not words that she hasn’t heard before   ---   there have been plenty who try to lift her up,   to engage her.   smile more,   they say;   be more happy.   it’s easy to speak the words,   but to bring forth the actions   ...   it’s hard.   find something you love:   if it were that easy,   then speaking to dorte would be enough to turn her into a ray of sunshine.   but   ...   she can’t.   she just can’t.

they don’t hear the voices she does.   dorothea doesn’t.

at least   ...   the others know when to give up.   unlike dorothea,   they never speak of her lack of engagement to her.   they’re more preferable to speaking ill tongues behind her back:   rumors,   wafting at the edge of earshot,   heard and hurtful.   even if it is true.

she doesn’t know which one she prefers   ---   but she knows what she prefers right now.

    ▹     with a loose grip, she folds her hands over kanao's. a smile pulls at shinobu's lips to accompany oncoming words. "i'm so proud of you. i don't say it often, but you've come so far. you're going to be so much greater than both kanae and i." she raises their hands to her face, giving her sisters knuckles a feather-light kiss. "my, i sound a lot like her right now, don't i?"   /   @shnbu​

it’s the simple comfort that soothes kanao the most:   like butterfly touches,   a gentle warmth akin to a candle’s flame.   her hand drifts towards it,   leaning upward if only to be a fraction of an inch closer to shinobu.   she revels in the sensation,   reminding herself of the pure fortune she has to be within the kocho estate.   by the sun god’s divine intervention,   by miracles upon miracles   ---   it has never been an easy life,   but she would relive it again and again if she would have her sisters’ smiles.

but shinobu’s words are terrifying.   kanao hasn’t been scared,   not in a long time,   for reasons that aren’t related to demons.   she’s scared because shinobu’s words have a sense of finality,   a finished ending to their not-happy-but-fulfilling story.   there’s still so much time though.   they are still so young.

yet lives can be lost within minutes.   happiness can be taken away just by looking away.   blink,   and you’ll miss it   ---   you’ll miss them. 

she’s lost one.   she can’t   ---   she doesn’t want to lose the other.

❝   ...   don’t say that,   shinobu-nee.   ❞   kanao replies after a moment,   mind reeling.   there’s nothing wrong with what shinobu says;   it’s a gentle sentiment,   a compliment she’ll hold dearly within her heart.   but when shinobu gingerly kisses her hands,   kanao shifts them to gently cup her sister’s cheeks.   she turns them to face her,   look her directly in the eyes   ---   determination set where once emptiness stood,   something she inherited from them.   ❝   you   ...   we have so much to learn.   so much to do.   you’re amazing and will get even better.   i’m nothing compared to you.   ❞

because she is not.   she is nothing more than an orphan,   a little thing from the streets taken in by their kindness and love.   if she holds strength,   then it is given by kanae and shinobu;   if she grows great,   then it would only be under the tutelage of shinobu   ---   of kanae as well,   if she could still be here.   everything she is:   it is because of them.   she is nothing without them.

❝   if you’re alive   ---   then i won’t surpass you,   right   ?   ❞

     ▹     " if she breathes i must k word her uwu " best regards, douma   /   @bonehymn​ 

she’s only seen them before from afar:   translucent shapes wafting through the air,   bouncing along the breeze without a care in the world.   it’s an enviable existence   ---   if kanao could spare more than a single glance back in those days.   but she doesn’t,   and though she’s always wondered what sort of magic it is,   she’s never given it a second thought with more pressing things at hand.

but now,   kanao doesn’t have to worry about those things:   food,   shelter,   safety   ---   all procured by the kocho estate,   eagerly given to her.   now they’ve given her the same toy,   the same magic wand,   she’s been so curious about.   it shakes her to her core to receive such kindness,   and her hand would tremble if she hadn’t conditioned herself otherwise.

instead,   she takes a deep breath and blows.

her eyes brightened at the bubbles that fill the sunny skies.

oh look   !   it’s kanao’s favorite friend   ---  she teeters closer to her,   words not spoken,   out of pure curiosity of what the lovely flower is doing today.

where’s my wife,   huh   ?

       and this is mitsuri, gently patting kanao’s head. baby. // @astralsung​ :smirk: hi

❝   ---   and well,   you know how older brothers can be   !   ❞   not all would be honored enough to be sibling to garen,   a protege within the crownguard family;   but lux has surely complained enough about him for her experiences to be understood,   if purely through osmosis.   it isn’t as if she doesn’t love her brother   ---   perish the thought   !   but sometimes,   his overbearing nature tends to veer   ...   too childish for her.   ❝   i don’t know;   maybe i’m making a big deal out of nothing.   but wouldn’t you get upset if your brother just left you in a forest so he could fight rogues alone   !?   ❞

“  i  have  something  for you.  ”     without any fanfare, they hold up a fish for marianne, tail up – of a modest size, still wet from the water and very much alive, squirming upside down in byleth’s grip.

                    /   @astralsung· 

       ❝ yes, you do ! it came with your xbox ! ❞

       ❝ aw, sure you can ! sure, it can be a little scary at first, but the view is stunning. ❞ though she says so, soleil isn’t so tactless as to force marianne to try. hands are placed on her hips, head tilting in thought. ‘ if anything, it’s like being in a tall building… ever been up in a castle before ? or like. on floating pieces of land ? ’ the second example is strangely specific, but soleil makes no show of thinking it strange to say. ‘ it’s sorta like those, you know ? ’

❝   i told you   ---   i don’t have uno.   ❞

“  yes !  ”   without realizing, her hands have snapped to grip kanao’s.   not harshly, but not quite gently   –   more eagerly.   maybe anxiously.   dorothea chews on her bottom lip.

“  i  –  i realize this is a lot all of a sudden but yes, emphatically, absolutely,  YES ,  i want –  no,  i NEED you to come with me kanao.  there’s no way i could go without you. ”   

without the other half of her own soul, what would’ve been the point, then, for her buttering up that noble, half whoring herself out for just one favor. one monumental, life changing favor, certainly – but at the cost of her own values ?

yes, a thousand times over yes, because it worked. when the doors of garreg mach open, the two of them will be right there to walk through, entering the next stage of their life.

how exhilarating and terrifying, to think that these two orphaned girls will make their mark on a place as prestigious as that. dorothea’s hands shake at the thought of it, sweaty around kanao’s fingers.

it’s not a grand gesture to be asked for approval,   but to kanao,   it means more than the world.   never had she been so genuinely asked for her presence.   it isn’t too long ago,   years in reality but perhaps just moments ago in her memories,   when she is beaten and cast aside for merely breathing:   a proven testament that she,   her body and whole being,   did not deserve life.   what she has always considered as unworthy,   unwanted,   unappreciated   ---   dorothea looks at her so earnestly,   like kanao is the only thing she has ever wanted,   ever needed in her life.

kanao’s hands grip tighter,   half-soothing dorothea’s anxiety and half-relying on the sensation to ground her   ---   before she up and flies away to neverland,   where she would never awake from a blissful dream.

she doesn’t know anything about garreg mach,   about the intricacies of societal relationships or what dorothea’s life is like beyond the shambling walls of their home.   she doesn’t fear it   ---   she seldom feels any emotion,   let alone fear.   but there’s a vibrating sensation coursing through her veins:   whether it’s anxiety or excitement,   she can’t tell.

dorothea’s hands are held together,   and kanao nods firmly.

BOLD what  applies  to  your  muse       /       repost ,        don’t  reblog .

THE FAIRY .    chipped nail polish.  glitter highlight.  tall trees with smooth bark. tangled hair. the taste of cinnamon sugar. talking too loud and too fast.  overgrown flowers in your hair. crumbling buildings reclaimed by nature.  flirting. walking home at three am with no coat. platonic hand holding. blowing smoke out of your nose.  dragonfly wings.  chaotic good. freckles.  fairy rings.  secret meetings.  gender nonconformity.  leather.  smudged eyeliner.  forbidden fruit.

THE REAPER .     computer errors.  a shiver down your spine.  haunting beauty. hard liquor.  crowns of thorns.  shadowed alleyways.  decaying plant matter.  shattered mirrors and broken glass.  corrupted memories.  stopped clocks.  the scent of stale cigarettes.  tattered black hoodies.  walking your friends home. the crescent moon.  the sea.  a graveyard on a foggy day.  cold rings on cold fingers.  absolution.  looking out of the window of an airplane.  soft kisses.

THE WITCH .    graffiti.  pretending to know what you’re doing.  worn paperback books. growing up too fast.  parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.  lace and combat boots.  moth wings.  candles on every surface. a weathered deck of cards.  turning the music up. fireflies in jars.  calloused fingers.  drawing on your skin.  sunlight filtering through clouds. petrichor.  a dying rose in a jar.  wearing a crystal pendant. illusions of spells.  black cats.  mint gum.   chapped lips. dirt under your fingernails. the cycle of life and death.

THE WOLF .     murders of crows.  frostbitten leaves.  wolves howling at midnight.  knocking on your door.  leaving food out for stray animals.  the twang of an acoustic guitar.  honey. tiny red buds on trees.  claw marks on the walls.  golden eyes.  slightly too long stubble.  knitted fingerless gloves.  sleeping on the forest floor. always find your way back home.

TAGGED   BY :     @shnbu​