#yuribrd

@yuribrd​  /  earnest prompts:  “At the present moment I am eating muffins because I am unhappy.” 

     “Well,  that is a terrible reason to eat muffins !  When one is partaking in delicious sweet bread,  they ought to be happy,  or at the very least,  content.  Otherwise,  you may upset your stomach.”  Speaking from unfortunate experience,  of course—he so rarely indulges in desserts,  given how readily foods disagree with him.  A shame,  truly;  by the lovingly handmade look,  the muffins on Yuri’s plate were clearly baked by Mercedes. 

Ever since he was a child, Ashe had never been much concerned with material things. Not even when he’d found a home where he need only ask nicely to receive whatever trinket caught his eye at the market. Yet he recognises the heady feeling of wanting as he drinks in the sight of a magnificent artisanal bow, and the only thing keeping it from making its way into his armoury is the Abyssinal price tag.

despite the veil of night deepening, his presence in the cathedral is far from being remarkable⸺  except for the fact that, unlike others, there is no prayer in his lips. not to this goddess, at least. if nothing else, the cathedral is a good alternative for when the night breeze proves too chilly to stargaze comfortably, the reverberations of steps only mildly distracting. his own were subdued, soundless as he makes his way into the farthest bench, his usual, only to find a familiar lilac mane had claimed a spot in it.

howl’s moving castle prompts  /  accepting

     “Yes,  my handsome prince,  I am aware.”  He has to turn,  chin topping his collar,  so that he can look up the spiral staircase to where Yuri drapes so dramatically against the balcony,  dying of neglect.  Ferdinand fixes his mouth into a crooked curve winding all the way up to his cheeks,  and his hand stills where it grips his favorite quill pen,  missive only half-scrawled.  He confesses,  silently,  how amusing it is when Yuri bemoans himself like this,  and how heartwarming the plea for affection,  beneath it all. 

morning after starters  /  not accepting

     It is precisely like Ferdinand to rise with the dawn,  and he ever delights in the first creeps of morning sunlight peeking through the thin curtains  ( light and airy,  so that the salt-soaked breeze cool off the Pearl Sea can drift in as it pleases )  in the dark.  Spotting his evening companion half-dressed to the waist and making for the door,  however,  he delights in less. 

soft & sweet starters  /  accepting

     “Forgive me.  I meant to come to bed sooner.”  He draws a sleeve over his eyes to blot away the tears puddling there.  He would prefer Yuri not see him like this,  all puffy-eyed and red-cheeked,  sitting at a vanity with his mother’s dusty jewelry box in his lap. 

     He had grabbed it on a mere whim while looking through his own brooch collection,  wholly unaware of what deep and sudden melancholy peeking open its lid would bring.  He waits for Yuri to draw closer before showing him the simple,  yet elegant cerulean brooch in his hand.