I think the reason why Aeternitas manipulated Anastasius into HATING Claude was because he, himself, hated Claude.
“I actually feel like you’re always laughing at me.”
Claude, who wasn’t the rightful heir, but was a powerful magician despite being a small child. Claude, who was so much he would have wanted to be. He probably imagined that Lucas was like Claude as a child.
That’s also why he hates Athanasia as well.
“Her mana is really outstanding. There must have been a divine beast.”
‘The daughter of the monster is also a monster.’
A monster. He thinks Claude and Athanasia are both monsters for being this powerful naturally.
“Lucas likes outstanding humans. He keeps them by his side.”
“I want to crush her*...”
(He actually says “I want to crush it...” instead of “her” but, eh....)
“If I could take it, that body would have been the best to occupy, but I couldn't break it down properly, so it's going to be hard now.”
lucathy getting together and like a true obelian royal she gives him violent headpats whenever she's too emotionally constipated to tell him he's cute 💕
I dare you to post three of your f/o's and let your moots and followers to guess what characters you're into. Tag your friends to challenge them
made a new post but i was tagged by @moonstruck-rk 🙈
i see a pattern in mine...... welp
tagging: @bowandcurtsey @elysianluv @ckjwnnbc @shannonanagains @thoughtfullyrainynightmare @clovertitan @iwastedanotherday i’m curious to know yalls type 🥰 i think i know what nati’s is but GO ON
pov: he just told you to come cuddle after setting up count blitz enders' death + exposé 😍✨💕
Me : omg babe you are too cute this is the best date ever😍✋ but atleast make sure he's eating the dirt off the ocean floor now like y'all eat the rich hehe💗
[no specific character mentioned, imagine your faves lovelies <3 character's pronouns are he/him, g/n reader, death mention; not angst, reader's relationship w/ character is vague]
1:02AM — ( you are the light )
he comes to you, as he always does.
the whistle of wind that rises and dies down, a rushed knock against your window, and suddenly he is there. waiting, patient until you slide open the balcony doors that are never locked.
this is frightening. he prays to the night that you do not hear the screeching of his heart, the way it pounds against his ribcage when the comforting familiarity of your home hits him. this is frightening, and yet here he is, back to you.
back with you.
the tenderness with which your fingers curl in his hair is one he could almost call love; it may very well be, something akin to fondness, at least — or perhaps he knows nothing of love at all.
but this could be, he thinks — sitting side by side on your bed, your hand tracing up his back and finding itself buried in his hair so naturally — whether or not this is love, he knows that even among all the chaos of the world, you were always supposed to find each other.
"is it heavy?" you ask, your voice dazed and slightly disoriented, on the verge of a trance. you speak of the burdens of humanity and of death; of the very ghosts haunting him enough to bring him to your door as often as they do. "are you strong enough to carry them?"
he turns, allowing your head to fall onto his thigh. he would like to provide you with similar comfort, a hand gently massaging your scalp, the sweet gesture lingering enough to bring you pleasant dreams and an eased mind. but his hands are harsh and unforgiving, and with their touch comes the suffering he has both endured and brought onto others. he is undeserving of you and of this moment of peace you have given him; you were never meant to be his partner this delusional dance of companionship and vulnerability he loves so much, not when you could find love elsewhere, in someone's else's embr—
"are you lost?" you ask once more, prepared for the silence that will follow. you are both aware of the answer, after all. "are you losing yourself?"
you shift your weight on him, and perhaps that is what gifts him the strength to form a reply — perhaps the only weight he was meant to carry was yours. "what if i said yes? what would you do then?"
you will never be able to fully understand his mind — we are all swords forged from the metal of our experiences, after all, and you have not lived his life, just as he hasn't yours — but you know that the tip of the iceberg, the bits of vulnerability he shares in these moments of safety, all begin with uncertainty swirling within him, an uncertainty that dissipates once your fingers lace through his. and so you do, keeping his hand firm in yours, hoping your sincerity is conveyed. "i would ask you to breathe, and breathe again, and continue until you remember that after a life such as yours, you have woken up another morning without letting this world poison you, as it has so many others. i would ask you to breathe until you remember your pride."
there is an end to everything that begins, just as quietly as he entered he will slip away, under the cover of darkness, out past your door and into a world that seems slightly softer than he had left it.
and in a few days' time there will be an identical knock on your door, another gentle evening, and the game of cat and mouse will recommence.
lucathy getting together and like a true obelian royal she gives him violent headpats whenever she's too emotionally constipated to tell him he's cute 💕
content warning/s: fue's son is slightly insecure, licht's daughter is angsty for 0.5secs, it's all angst -> fluff dwdw i wouldn't do you guys like that 😭🖐️ aged up!yuno
a/n: added fue in even though he wasn't originally planned, don't wanna neglect this babe anymore 💔 was gonna include will but like??? how tf would this mans child say i hate you. it will not happen. never. not once will is immaculate n i will fight everyone who says otherwise.
WHEN THEIR CHILD SAYS "I HATE YOU" ft. fuegoleon, nozel, yuno, licht
✰ FUEGOLEON "then perhaps you shouldn't participate this time around." your eyes widen the moment the words leave your husband, though your reaction is nothing compared to your son's. silence drowns the room as everyone processes fuegoleon's words. your son tenses, his head lowering in shame. "you– you know how hard i've worked for this," you can tell he's struggling to hold himself together, shoulders trembling, "how can you say that, father?" fuegoleon's expression softens at the reaction, confusion colouring his features, "i only–" but your son stands from his spot, eyes glimmering with unshed tears as a soft, pained, "i hate you," escapes him. inhaling harshly, he backtracks with the intent to leave the room, but fuegoleon is quick to rise, wrapping his arms around his son. the heavy silence hangs in the air as a low, "i'm sorry," leaves your husband. your son flinches at the familiar softness in his father's voice when he continues, "i'm asking you to hold yourself to a higher standard than a simple competition. to realise that an exam does not make an honourable knight, it's because i trust your work that this lesson is important – strength can win battles, but it takes more to protect." fuegoleon holds your son through the tremble of his shoulders, giving him a proud smile and a firm karate chop to the head the moment the pulls away. "now apologise for breaking my heart when i'm this old, you insolent boy." your son can't help but grin childishly, a teasing, "old? who's old?" leaving him, his laughter echoing through through the halls when fuegoleon nods approvingly. "good answer. you've inherited your mother's smarts, i see."
✰ NOZEL you've never known nozel's anger to be scary or violent — it's instead sharp, biting, weighing down the air around you, lasting days. your daughter stands beside the dinner table, her hair disheveled and and clothes worn as she glances at the dinner she's made nozel in apology for acting out a few days ago. his pride nearly comes crashing down when he manages to get a good look at all his favourites lining the table, her head hanging in shame and the hopeful, slow breaths she's drawing — but then the humiliation from three days ago settles right back and he looks up, gaze cold enough to send shivers down your spine. "not hungry tonight," he mutters. nebra gasps from beside you and you hear your daughter inhale sharply. she raises her head for the first time since their argument, large tears swimming in her beautiful eyes and her voice trembles, "i, i tried– so hard, for you – and you just—?" he's never been strong enough to see her cry so nozel reaches out — she steps backwards, spurning his touch, "i hate you." and he stills, arm stuck mid air before he tells her, "you don't mean that." she folds her shaking arms over her chest, curling into herself, and he echoes his own words; it's a whisper this time, confidence and pride dissipating in a split second, "you– don't mean that," her words from their original argument return to haunt his mind, thinking that her yell of "maybe it's you i'm ashamed of!" was the loudest thing he'd ever heard but then the silence after that somehow being even louder — the soft call of "–papa," is what breaks his trance-like state and all of a sudden she's burying her face in his chest as she has so many times before, sobbing into him and murmuring apology after apology. and all he can do is hold her, heart seizing when she looks up at him to take back those words, promising she'd never thought like that once, that he was still her favourite magic knight, her role model. he tucks her head back into his chest and lets her cry it out, his own hands fisted in the apron she'd dirtied to make him happy, eyes moistening.
✰ YUNO he can feel his limbs ache from the physical and mental pressure the day left him with, the accumulated strain on his body begging for a much needed shower and a nap. two pairs of little feet patter up to yuno, all grins and flushed cheeks as his sons race towards him and collide into his legs. he grimaces, their excitement softening the harshness of his future words to a firm, "settle down, boys." their grins only widen as they let go of him, skipping all around him. he fails to notice the pieces of paper in their hands the twins attempt to show off, white spaces filled with small drawings and little dabs of colour here and there. the misplaced irritation takes form as he raises a sharp eyebrow, an exasperated "stop," falling from his lips before he can stop himself. a few beats of silence envelop the room as the boys freeze, stepping away from him. his younger son's bottom lip trembles, golden eyes pooling with tears as he creases the crisp paper of his drawing. his elder son sniffles at his brother's reaction, watery gaze raising to meet yuno's, "i hate you," whispered right before he grabs his brother's hand and turns to dash towards their room. yuno's heart lurches, breath not quite reaching his lungs anymore. the hallway is dark, empty, looming without his boys — he's quick to rush towards their shared room, a chant of no, no, please– clouding his mind until he sees the two curled up under their blanket. they let him slip off the blanket with little resistance, eyebrows furrowing when yuno's palms rest against their cheeks, their father's eyes softening apologetically. "papa was tired today, guys, work was hard. but i shouldn't have been rude, 'm sorry," his voice is gentle as it fills up the room, and when the two nod with small smiles he lets a few, more hesitant words leave him, "you, you don't– hate me, right?" the moment of quiet after his question has yuno's eyes widening, until the two pounce on him, little arms finding their way over his shoulders. "love you papa," brings the air back to him, his own arms raising to hold them tighter in genuine relief.
✰ LICHT he knows your daughter's had a downright awful day the moment she returns home with her usual grin missing. his concern seems to overshadow the logic telling him to give her space and let her think everything through — she's murmuring a soft, tired, "can't right now, dad," as she narrowly dodges the embrace he offers. his clenches at the pain he can see in her expression, and he tries once more, a hand reaching out to brush her hair. she sighs sharply, before sending him a look that has him halting in his tracks, "don't. dad." he raises an eyebrow at her tone before his hands reach out to her once more as he starts, "maybe if you tried talki–" she pulls back sharply, brows pinched together, "STOP IT I HATE YOU" her eyes are widening as large are his are, tears gathering in her eyes when he — her father, her strong, confident father — swallows down the lump forming in his throat, letting his hand fall back to his side as a small, "okay," escapes him. she can feel the force of her tears bringing on a migraine, her trembling hand raised to cover her mouth. her voice breaks, and she lets out a soft, pleading, "papa–" he flinches at the name he hadn't heard since she grew out of it years ago. "didn't, didn't mean to–" she stutters, eyes still wide in horror until he shuts his tightly, arms bringing her into him the way he used to back when she still called him papa. she sniffles against him, fingers gripping the hem of his shirt as he hushes her, "i know, princess, i– i know," with a hand smoothing over her hair gently. "talk to me next time, hm? don't, don't go breaking my heart like that, you know how much i love you, princess." he can't help the relieved tears escaping him now, a hand rubbing her back as he presses a soft kiss to the top of her head.
summary: certain words have yet to be exchanged between yuno and you, words that weigh in on the silences you share, lodge themselves in your throat, and are ultimately replaced by an entirely different phrase
content warning/s: an emotionally stunted fool 💔
1:35AM —
there is magic in the air tonight.
it is strangely familiar, though unrelated to the element he has such mastery over. it's in the round moon hanging low in the sky or the silence of the forest, perhaps. or maybe it's simply you.
"oh, but–" your voice sounds over the communication device in his hand, "–but you're alright, yeah?"
ah.
yuno hums in response, light so as to not wake the squad members he's keeping watch over. "i am, promise."
he hears your laugh on the other end, most likely in relief after the group's communication cut off for a couple of days. "as long as you're fine," you sigh softly, and yuno can imagine you leaning backwards to stretch sleepily.
"are you tired, angel?"
he smiles in the dark; you're probably shaking your head right now, and in a minute you'll remember he can only hear your voice, and— "oh, no, 'm fine babe."
it's cute, he thinks. you are.
he'd also wager you're sleepy as hell, and stubborn enough to fight it off in favour of a few minutes with him. and sure enough, your light breathing pleasantly fills up the silence even at his end, slowly evening out.
you'll fall asleep in a matter of second despite your firm insistence otherwise, and yuno guesses he might finish this mission and return to you sometime around this time tomorrow— a heavy sigh escapes him at the thought of another whole day of this. he's not even really sure what 'this' is, to be honest, aside from the dull ache of your absence. it's biting, suffocating, creeping up during moments when he remembers the way your arms would wrap around him, his back to your chest and a lazily whispered 'morning' in greeting.
when you tell him, "i miss you," he wonders who came up with those words, and whether they were meant to encompass even a longing this strong, this bitter sting that accompanies the mere thought of being away from you.
there's a separate set of three words to express that, some part of him knows.
you mumble something in your sleep, breaking away his train of thought. yuno lifts the communication device closer to his ear when you whisper a few incoherent words once more — it's useless, trying to understand what you're saying, he's spent hours trying to make sense of your sleepy murmurs with little to no avail before.
he could laugh, really — that's so on brand for you. the kisses you always press to his hairline and his immediately relaxing shoulders don't make sense, the sudden urge to reach for your hand when you walk down the street together doesn't, his heart stuttering at your smile — none of it does, it never has.
how do you do it? and does he have a similar effect on you?
it didn't happen all at once, either, so yuno thinks you've pulled a fast one on him with the way he's always catching himself mirroring your smiles — there had been no 'click', no eurika moment like he'd been expecting — instead it lingered in the way your touch always seemed to last a few moments longer than necessary, in his eyes that searched for yours whenever someone made a joke, staring at your lips until klaus or mimosa nudged him back to his senses, you were gradual and inevitable, your presence cementing itself until he's left drowning in his mind without it.
you're selfish, leaving him to figure all this out himself.
"...yuno?"
there's playful mirth lacing his tone, the slight smirk you can almost hear sending a shiver down your spine. "sleep well, angel?"
your pout is just as visible in your murmured, "sorry, babe, i just–"
"–it's alright," he interrupts softly, "you should get more rest."
"i will," you promise, and yuno raises the device once more, eyes closing to focus on your voice. "what were you doing?"
"thinking," he answers after a beat of silence.
in your room, you stare at the second glass of water you've accidently poured water into. "...yeah? about what?"
"not telling."
he bites back a grin at the sound of your laughter, a whine spilling past your lips, "yuno! you can't just— tell me, please, babe?"
seriously selfish, yuno decides with a sigh. "i just—" and what exactly was there to admit? how could he make enough sense of the mess that is his mind to explain it? "—missed you."
