one for sorrow.

dom was an fire emblem: three houses oc, but is now found in a multitude of fandoms. this blog contains mature themes such as sex, sex work, drugs, war, and mental illness. there’s also some mentions of torture, but rarely explicit explicit. the mun is rhys who sold their gender for $3.50 and some peanut m&ms, but prefers he/him pronouns.

rules

[remembers what ive been eating]

     the day started off normal enough.

    the morning had been bright and sunny, a nice summer after a dreary winter period; roshar’s seasons still irked dom, but he had long made his peace with it. he had been up first, beating adolin and aminta to the punch for once. he had watched the sun rise, sipping tea and going through the latest batch of correspondence from the crows in the field. adolin was up next, taking his time to get ready for the day, meandering from room to room gathering up his clothes that had inevitably spread out over night; dom watched it fondly from his seat in the sun, following his prince with his eyes, a smile crinkling his face as adolin paused to hold two shirts up and try to figure out which was the recently fixed one, which still had the torn seam, and which was aminta’s. dom grinned as he picked- correctly- and come to another stop a few steps away. he seemed to think for a moment and notice he was being watched, visibly brightening as he strode over to press a kiss to dom’s hair and steal some of the fruit from his plate before striding off again.

    it’s one of those days, dom noted to himself. that’s fine, we can compensate for that.

    aminta was next, the fourteen-year-old moving with a bounce in her step despite the new awkwardness to her limbs. she’d hit her growth spurt and now stood a full three inches taller than her twin, and constantly forgot about the new reach of her arms. she turned cold as she noticed him, giving him a painfully polite nod as she snatched up a glass of pink wine and trotted after her father.

    still hasn’t forgiven me. can’t blame her.

    little evi was next, the six-year-old toddling out bleary eyed, arm wrapped around the stuffed horse that had been a gift from sophia. she carried that thing everywhere and it looked a little ragged these days, despite the patches adolin had so carefully sewn into place when the material got thin. she, at least, kissed his cheek and settled near his feet in the sunlight, playing with her tri-colored hair pulled into a loose braid.

    she’s getting so big. when did that happen, i wonder?

    last but hardly least, revanor shambled his way out and into the world of the living. he was bleary eyed, a scowl draped over his face, and skirted around the light wherever possible. with a thump, he dropped into the chair across from dom and picked up the mug of tea that was already waiting for him. he, unlike his twin, was not blessed with a body clock that worked well with roshar. it had definitely taken after dom’s own and sent the poor young man into a strange spiral of living. but the caffeine hit his system and he gave dom a tired smile before letting his head tilt back to let him adjust to the living world.

    he’ll be great at whatever he decides to do. minta is gonna be one lucky highprince to have him advising her.

    then it hit him. his life was as close to perfect as it could get. a family that loved him, admittedly to varying degrees. sunlight. some good tea. and a day set to be filled with interesting things: talking with some of the scholars, running a few drills with guards, checking their ledgers, and finishing off the day with a diplomatic event with his husband that involved a violin performance. a good day. a good, standard day. a day he was looking forward to.

    adolin reappeared, now properly dressed, and attempting to get his hair into some sort of order, minta’s wine glass in his hand. she’d probably ran off for the day already, and if he concentrated, he thought he could hear the sound of her footsteps on the roofing outside. dom put his now finished cup of tea to the side and stood, stretching for a moment then taking the cup from adolin and setting it down so he could steal an embrace.

    “i have a feeling that today is gonna go well,” he grinned, propping his chin against adolin’s chest. “it’ll be great. no problems. no problems at all-“

     “i’m testing a theory,” he says, awfully casually for a man that just gave himself a fatal dose of poison. “no need to panic, but i need you to do something for me if i don’t come back to life in, say, three minutes after my heart stops.”

    his mouth is as dry as bone under the desert sun, just one of the fun symptoms of the poison he’d ingested not too long ago. he mentally filed it away as an interesting fact, and double checked his preparations. someone capable of transmuting the poison in his blood, check. a good dose of something that should kick-start his breathing enough to get some stormlight in, check.  

    “what i need you to do is transmute- ah, soulcast- either my blood or the poison in me, and then shove that giant needle straight through my breastbone. it might give you some trouble, but just- thump it through there, good and hard, into this body’s heart. think you can do that? well, i’m sorry to say, even if you don’t think you can, it’s either that or i stay dead.” he pauses. “probably. honestly, i’m not even sure if i can actually die, it’s a bit unclear, so. give it a go, or i’ll remember it.”

    the body he occupied was slowing now, and he felt parts of himself peel away from the physical plane; he closed his eyes, feeling it for a moment, and folded his legs to gently lean so his head just barely rested against one of her covered knees. “i know you have trouble with soulcasting, but i believe in you. i wouldn’t ask unless i had faith in you to either pull it off, or think of a backup plan.”