#ringslain

     ❛ look who decided to finally show his ugly mug. what took ya so long, hero? ❜

let me look at your dog. (i mean both gladio and reborn noct tbh)

a gladio puppo

he doesn’t even have an ass tf

I feel like I’ve been cursed.

Most would probably be unaware of otherwise, but every god in existence existed somewhere, somehow, and in some form or fashion. Whether or not they were believed in in some areas made no difference, though it did make their influence stronger. But no, every god had a presence if every place.

As well as in every world.

Send me ‘Try’ and a character, and I’ll write how I would RP that character - @ringslain

The sun beats down heavy on the crown city, harsher than what he’s used to in Galahd this time of year, and while Nyx doesn’t move from position, he feels the heat baking his skin through the thick leather of his uniform. Sweat beads at the back of his neck and the cuffs at his wrists. He can feel the pavement getting hot through the soles of his boots. Hair clings to his head and the sides of his neck. Shit, can’t a breeze even hit his station here? Is that too much to ask?

He shifts, adjusting his stance in an attempt to alleviate anything, but to no avail. Nyx misses the rivers back home all the time, but it feels more insistent in this moment. People live here? And like it? Though the draw of being protected from the war raging outside the walls is a damn good reason to want to move here. Nyx is one of the lucky ones who made it through the wall to work as a Glaive for the king, and he knows not to think lightly of that; he fights this war so the people who don’t have a safe place to live, who lost their homes and families in the fire left in the Empire’s wake, can live in peace again. No one else should have to lose a child, a parent…a sibling.

No, not now. Nyx clenches his jaw and focuses his gaze forward again. He can feel the tension in his neck and shoulders, but doesn’t try to work it out. Regardless of everything that’s happened in the past, that’s gotten him where he is; regardless of the heat trying to burn its way into his bones, he remains steadfast. Hands clasped behind his back, Feet shoulder-width apart. Tense, alert, ready to attack if need be. Magic hums beneath his skin, ready to throw his dagger and warp to its target.

You’re in a city that’s avoided war for a hundred years. The itch to grasp his blade doesn’t leave his fingers, but he doesn’t act on it. Knows he won’t need to until they’re called to another border skirmish where the Empire tests its weapons on Insomnia’s wall.

He nearly breathes a sigh of boredom to try and relieve the pressure in his chest, but nothing - until he sees a car drive to the front of the Citadel and a woman steps out. He’s seen her before, mostly on heavily censored broadcasts and news articles skewed to paint her in a different light, but he knows her: Lady Lunafreya, ex-princess of Tenebrae. She looks sheltered, soft, naive, even as a knowing smile plays at her lips as she steps from the car.

“Your Highness,” he says with a bow, and is it insulting to call her that when she technically isn’t a princess anymore? Well, he doesn’t really know how to address the Oracle, and maybe it’s better to be wrong than look like an idiot. “I can take you to the throne room.”

“No need.” It isn’t dismissal in her voice, just a history of knowing where she is going, even now. “I still remember the way.”

IT’S OKAY OMG. I JUST WASN’T SURE IF YOU MEANT ME OR NOT. XD

Just lemme know if you do change it. ovo (I assume this is directed at me since I haven’t seen any other Nyx’s from that ask, but juST WHACK ME IF I’M WRONG, OK.)