#pathcut

( angsty starters || ACCEPTING ) 

HE handed back the dagger that was always hers – hilt directed towards her and the point towards him. It was as if he was giving her the power to hurt him all over again – as if trusting her that in this moment, she won’t. Dimitri’s mouth twisted into a careful smile. He didn’t know whether he found the notion to be good or whether he was simply humoring it. 

“Perhaps…” the uncrowned king mused. However, one thing was for sure – it was a beautiful notion. A beautiful idea to think one could be young again and reset the clock before turmoil and toll. To think they could be a girl and a boy meeting once again – dancing with mishappen steps and thinking that the summer was all their own. 

@pathcut - 1. OTP(s) for your muse? & 8. Does your muse get jealous easily?

OTPS = V!Noctella = V13 Noctis x Stella, V!Lightis = V13 Noctis x Lightning and the ship I’m building with @les-asterismes between her muse and mine!

scenario generator || @pathcut

Edelgard and Bethany watching a very sad movie. Edelgard is crying.

Bethany is finally noticed by their sempai, Edelgard.

Edelgard is under a terrible curse. Bethany knows how to cure it.

Edelgard and Bethany meet on a blind date.Bethany wants to go on another date, but Edelgard isn't sure.

●pathcut​ | acts of affection

First, it was easy to drag him across the Monastery grounds.  In his half daze (half stupor) it was far less exhausting not to fight the unrelenting grasp pulling him forward.

But in rounding the corner of the lecture hall, Linhardt’s drowse began to wear, and he began to see Edelgard’s determination (how alike it is to an eagle, with talon-like grip and fiery eyes).  Then he realized their destination, and why she was so determined to drag him there.

With that revelation came more - his hand drifts towards the back of his head to hair that’s free and loose and tangled.  The ribbon was left behind.Ugh…And they’re 5 minutes early.Ugh………..

“ Honestly, Edelgard… I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.Surely this could have waited. ”

@pathcut  (  barefoot gen prompts  )

Noctis gives a terse nod from where he’s perched, shoulders hunched, brow furrowed. The Emperor’s words are meant to be reassuring, Noctis knows. And yet all he can hear is a dark, bitter humor. His lips twitch upwards in response, and despite his own misgivings with the situation – because how the hell could assassins have made their way through the practically airtight defense of the Citadel? – he still appreciates her words, for what it’s worth.

He takes in their surroundings, makes his own checks on their well-being – nose wrinkling in guilt at the tears in his suit, trying not to focus on the blood buried under his nails; his dad gifted him the suit just that morning with a fondly exasperated “as much as our esteemed guests might appreciate Crownsguard fatigues… let’s not isolate them with perceptions of aggression.” And Noct had groaned tiredly, throwing an arm over his eyes, uttering not even a thanks, dad. Nothing is worse than words left unsaid. And if the assassins got what they came here for then…

Noctis pulls himself from that line of thought with a shuddering breath, shoulders straightening in resolve. He won’t let that possibility become a reality. His dad can’t be… No.

He stands, antsy not just to see his dad safe, but also to hurt the people who would… who would attack his home like this. Quite suddenly, he realises this is exactly how many of the Kingsglaive might have felt, when their homes had been taken from them by the Empire. And what had Noctis, had any Insomnian felt for them, then? Nothing but a vaguely bitter indifference.

Noctis grimaces in disgust of his own negligence. If Noctis, as Prince doesn’t do anything, how can he expect his people to follow, to act?

“Can’t guarantee we’ll stay that way. They sounded pretty confident that we weren’t gonna be leaving here alive.”

He looks at the Emperor, really looks. Takes in a ruler torn but not broken by war, the tense set of her shoulders, the grim downturn of her lips. He gives her an assessing look.

“It’s quite alright, Lady Edelgard.” Hubert offers a small smile down at her as she shifts to sit up. He does his best not to make it overly obvious as he flexes his fingers, trying to work some feeling back into them. Though Edelgard’s presence at his side had been quite pleasant, she had unintentionally made his arm go quite numb. However, it had seemed cruel to wake her. With all the weight piling onto her shoulders, she deserves time to rest. 

Sitting up a bit straighter, Hubert muffles a yawn against the back of his hand. He had nearly been drifting off himself for a moment there. Having Edelgard close is... comforting in the way little else is. Knowing she’s there, knowing she’s safe, it puts him at ease. He glances out the window, frowning a little as he spots the setting sun. 

@pathcut  ( 3am sentence starters )

Noctis startles, brow un-furrowing, mouth curved slightly downwards. In his hand, his untouched glass of champagne glitters, momentarily dazzling under the array of over-head lights.

He grimaces slightly, turning towards the Emperor — and almost wrinkles his nose at the oddity of everything; the thought of how the Emperor was no longer associated with Aldercapt, but a stranger; an unknown variable that he could stand around and pretend to drink high-end champagne with.

Eugh. This whole situation is... weird. But at least, Noctis could be friendly. Or, try to be — it’s hard to not at least be cautious when someone holds the fate of your country in a tight, gloved grip. But, well. Baby steps, right? Who knows, maybe Noctis’s shit conversational skills could be the saving grace of Lucis, after all.