#rcsfield

send 🪵 and i'll say a positive thing about my own blog x 3

I still resent this, phoenix. However, I am also an advocate for positive self-talk, because of its mental health benefits, blah blah blah (/lh). Alright, here goes.

I'm very passionate about my characters, and I really hope that shows through my writing. I try to leak headcanons and metas in my ask replies, and I'm always proud when my hardwork pays off in out of character conversation. AKA. I live for people noticing my headcanons and details. I usually put my whole sy-ussy into replies, to make them worth the wait.

I like my writing style, a lot. I try to keep my writing simple, while maintaining some flavour. I usually do this by experimenting with sentence structure during the process, or by applying a dash of imagery as a treat. :3 I like the language I use, as well. Easy, but not elementary. I just think I've become quite adapt at striking the balance between simple and flavourful.

I've been on this one for like 30 minutes. So I'm taking the cowards way out -- I like my mutuals!! The company I keep on this blog means a lot to me. I spent my time carefully curating my mutuals, and so coming on tumblr is always a joy. ( Sure, I did a massive softblock this morning but I'm still taking this win )

📩 @rcsfield sent: kissing your partner to seal a marriage. — (😳 maybe ffxvi secret elopement? coughs loudly woah who said that) – prompt.

in an ideal world, elinor would have a more luxurious dress, nicer jewelry, a fancier hair style and a blush on her cheeks that didn't solely come from standing under joshua's gaze. in a different world, another life, a ceremony as this would have had guests, and drink and food, and ellie would have all but lost his mind preparing the perfect day. 

that version of elinor would be misguided in what perfect meant. they stood, surrounded by the silence of rosarian ruins, alone, and he couldn't have planned anything more fitting; couldn't have imagined anything more flawless than this moment, the two of them the only thing in the world (if only for now before the blight and ultima would matter again). as joshua spoke the words of the ceremony in his gentle cadence, ellie feels tears prickling in his eyes, heart full and entirely overwhelmed. they wrapped the cords around their clasped hands, and those tears spilled from her waterline, tracking down her cheeks. he didn't wipe them away. 

movement is deliberate as he rises to the balls of his feet, closing the short distance between them, pausing for just a moment to commit this to memory; the feeling of the cords binding them, the breeze tugging their hair, the brightness and warmth in his gaze. the way he smiled down at her... elinor's heart surged, overwhelmed once more, or perhaps still, and his patience disappeared. she crushes her lips to kiss, pulling joshua closer by the waist with his free hand.

arthur’s chest clenches—a tender squeeze of a heart that beats in anxious rhythm. joshua’s gaze is kind, patient ; the look of him a gentle murmur of water in a vast and endless ocean. the scout swallows and looks away, near guilty. the fire between them paints rings of honey through the soil-stained hues of his eyes. “ do you now ?? ” the lie hangs. his head tilts, a small, generous smile pulling at his mouth—kind, but a little sad.

silence stretches. when joshua reaches for him, arthur almost flinches ; the warmth of the other’s hand steadies his pulse just long enough to still. a sigh leaves him, quick and full of relief, and he nearly laughs at his own nerves. “ i— ” he starts, then stops. thinks. even with all the patience offered to him, a lifetime of doubt stirs. he remembers, involuntarily, how the wrong word once drew blood, how the wrong truth could bruise like iron. he swallows, tries again, voice low.

“ i try not to see, ” he says finally, quiet but edged with a particular kind of honesty that feels like pain given shape. “ it happens anyway. some things just… make themselves known. ”

without realizing, he’s turned his palm up. their fingers meet—hesitant, searching—and interlace. the small contact steadies him enough to continue. “ i saw it in you, before… ” his eyes lift, the ring of honey brightening to near-crystal ; small strings of aether around the night of his pupil. “ the fire. i thought it was the sun at first, or my head, or—anything else, really. but no. it’s in you. the same as it was in the old stories. ”

his throat tightens. “ i thought i saw it once, a long time ago. it’s—beautiful. ” a breath catches, half awe, half fear. “ it’s also… it’s... it's killing you, isn’t it ?? ”

the question lands like an apology. then, softer, his voice drops to a whisper. “ there’s something else, too. something colder. i don’t know what to call it yet—shadow ?? hunger ?? it feels like sorrow trapped beneath your ribs. like the light keeps trying to make peace with something that never will. ”

he exhales through his nose, long and steady, then risks meeting joshua’s gaze again. “ i'm sorry. ” arthur says on reflex, sheepish. “ i must not be making any sense. i don’t mean to pry. i don’t want to. i just… when i see fire, i have to make sure it isn’t about to swallow the person carrying it. ”

🕊️ – @rcsfield

gentle touch was not something elinor was accustomed to. in fact, there hadn't been much room for anything gentle in elinor's life for too many years, now. his question was a genuine one, curiousity and apprehension both loud, fighting to take control of her reflexes. the impulse to hide had only served her so well, clearly, as joshua had found her, trying her best to remain out of sight and out of the way. 

the mention of anabella has elinor's teeth setting, tight even as the tenderness under his jaw protests. he begins to shake his head, and is about to remark on how she doubted joshua was capable of reaching his mother's level of cruelty before he reminds her of her place. the mention of her sister stings, so elinor simply looks down, shaking his head. 

familiar with silence, accustomed and at home in it, elinor is unable to let it stick this time, apologising. for marley's behaviour, for her own dishevelled appearance. for daring to take up space. 

"i'm sorry you had to see that, your grace." 

perhaps if elinor was more familiar with gentle touch, she could have pulled her hand away. but despite the sharpness of his tone, his grip was a welcome touch, and one elinor didn't feel inclined to disagree with as he lead her through the corridors to... his chambers? this is where she hesitates, the fear of marley, or even empress anabella, giving her pause, glancing to see if anyone was about to stop her. elinor opens her mouth to protest, but is quietened by joshua's words. 

📩 @rcsfield sent: colliding with a wall, then each other's lips. — (dealers choice, but oooo ellie you want to shove him against a wall so bad oooo) – prompt.

with clive's back turned, elinor mouths the word behave to joshua, her eyes equal part warning and delicious frustration. with the way her cheeks and ears tinged pink, however, he knows the dominant of fire (and everyone else around them), knew she was not nearly as unphased as he was trying to pretend she was. a conversation of logisitics follows, and an agreement that while clive and jill will split off to check in with sir wade, elinor and joshua would return to the hideaway after checking in with martha. all the while, elinor's eyes are on joshua, unable, or unwilling, to tear her gaze from him. 

days on the road, days of a flirting dance between the two of them that they rallied easily, and one that elinor wouldn't usually feel any shame in escalating. but they travelled with joshua's brother, and that made him self-conscious, especially as it was clear clive was struggling with the years lost between them. 

"you seem to be quite determined to have me make a fool of myself, your grace." it's a warning enough that ellie addresses him with the proper title, a habit that only arises when some sort of consequences are headed his way. usually it's reserved for times joshua avoided medicine, or rushed into recklessness, never angry, but certainly stern. the second warning is the way his voice doesn't waver, a false calm as she lead him around to the back of the inn, rather than the front.

“Joshua? Do you have a moment?”

Jill smiles shakily from where she stands in the doorway of the library, looking very nervous, which is wholly unlike herself. But she has to tell someone the secret that she's been harboring for a little over a month now. It'll be harder and harder to hide it soon enough, so she figures she ought to tell Joshua now. She doesn't want Clive to know. Not yet. Not until she absolutely can't keep it a secret anymore. Because she knows if she tells him, then he'll forfeit everything they've been working on, or, at the very least, delay it.

injuries / accepting / @rcsfield

she's  taken  worse  injuries  since  she  started  traveling  with  his  grace.  more  often  than  not,  she  finds  herself  taking  charge  in  fights.  not  that  she  doesn't  think  he  can  handle  it,  but  more  of  fear? what  if  he  had  to  use  the  phoenix  ?  what  if  the  curse  spread?  

but  it  is  deeply  uncomfortable.  she  had  gotten  slammed  against  a  tree  by  a  footpad  and  jote  knows  she's  bleeding.  a  potion  would  take  care  of  it,  but  she  tries  not  to  use  on  on  herself.  

the silence is awkward. not what it once was, where he and simon could sit quietly together with ease. she couldn't look at him without seeing her mother, couldn't think of him without a sharp pain twisting his chest. without hearing him admit it was all an act.