@crested-flames - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag

@crested-flames

33 posts

"You must have been a mercenary." Be it the manner she speaks or the tough love evident in her response. There is little attached to the feelings he recalls when he thinks about her sort. The ones that tended to help out the younger and less fortunate. The ones that were first to defend and allow those same young ones to grow. The ones that held dreams forever untapped, passed along to those who they had left their skills with as well.

I'm glad you're a teacher, though the words are simply thought - he needn't spur on another caring remark - Byleth wonders how exactly she would feel about him even thinking such a thing.

Back to the topic at hand, his mind works as he's allowed a moment off from leading. "Well, it's a reminder."

A pause, and his lips curl upward slightly. "The question is too open ended. A tip to not second guess isn't bad for someone who is second guessing."

For a split second, everything stops- her gut drops to the soles of her feet, the warmth of their joined hands feels as if Elfire was cast to melt her skin.. Had her secret been discovered? Was she in danger? Would she turn into.. bubbles, or--or mist, or ashes, or simply blink out of existence? No.. No, there's no reason that it should matter here... Damn it- Have to get over this fear.. In her defense, she had practically a decade of internalized anxiety discipline to keep a good portion of herself- her life, experiences, attachments- hidden.. out of self-preservation.

❛ How did... What other kinds of tricks you got up those ugly non-sleeve sleeves? What, are you a mind reader too? ..Though, I suppose it makes sense a mercenary would recognize another.❜

The redhead covers it with a laugh, quickly recovering from the terror that momentarily consumed her entire being. She's has to get over it- it's been months already--!

❛ Too bad that there is no one present that is "second guessing" for your statement to be true. Honestly, here I thought you knew just about everything. ❜

He frowns. It isn't as if the coat atop his back is exactly sentimental in that it was given by Jeralt or anyone. It is just a piece of clothing someone left behind. Something he could fit into so as to not waste money on unnecessary things. Still, he likes the freedom of the fluttering sleeves.

Focusing on that lets him set aside the mins reader comment. If he could read her mind, his foot would not be throbbing as it is now.

"? Are you questioning yourself a third time now?" Byleth jests as he steps them into a spin that he risks his toes to complete. "You can do so here. Hesitation isn't lethal."

Not yet at least.

#toaball2026 #//to be tagged

wish upon the waves(this is a pool) || sue & byleth

herald // heavy armor +1 * detention

In the end, this is where the flowers should be... probably. When Byleth was allowing them to float across the top of the pond, it looked intentional, pretty even. Instead of sprayed down or pressed to be ornaments, they could probably keep growing like this once they attached to one another.

Naturally, the groundskeepers of Garreg Mach did not think so. An affront, a distraction from those fishing, a hazard for the animals - there are a number of complaints he has handed to him as his right hand is bound to this students left and he has to wonder - is something that would have happened without human intervention a bad thing?

He was not the only one who tossed along flowers, but he will readily take the blame for even those he does not recognize. When they get out to the pond, it's almost entirely covered over, gaps here and there allowing for the winter sun to reflect on the water.

If someone couldn't fish through this, he thinks they may need their qualifications revoked.

"...I don't want to damage the stems," he says; now realizing he's not even given his name. It will come with time. "Should we pick them by hand until we can't?"

@doeofsacae

#[wish upon the waves(this is a pool) || threads]#[sue || supports]

miniplotting call! (taken!)

hand holding/ball clean up(armor+1): don't ask him why(please do), but someone caught him throwing a lot of the flowers from ball into the pond. alongside the punishment of having a role model bound to his hand... he's got to make sure the pond is free of every flower that's ever been in it (despite how pretty a sight it is) taken!

#//best contact is just tumblr ims!#//byleth gets to do double time for his crimes

mmm fish

continued from here

“Um. Huh?” He’s left slightly dumbstruck for a moment. While asking about bow fishing seemed to be leading up to trying the activity together, he didn’t expect that to be right away.

…yet, he doesn’t hate it at all. If anything the idea of spending a little one on one time with his professor seems more enjoyable than anything else he might’ve planned for today. “R-Right away, Professor!” Quickly he stuffs everything that remains in his desk into his bag and stands up excitedly.

As they walk side by side, Ashe keeps making curious little glances at Professor Byleth whenever he feels like the man isn’t looking. The way he walks, the way he bears himself.. all of it seems so calm and collected, just like he imagined an experienced mercenary would be. “If you don’t mind me asking, what brought this on Professor? If there’s something you feel I’m falling behind on, I’ll do my best to catch up.”

He knows well enough that he’s just some crestless nobody, meaning he has to work twice- no, thrice as hard to catch up to his noble-blooded peers.

"I think you're doing good." How much his opinion on that counts for, he's not sure. He may be a professor, but all of it is new to him. The best metric he has is previous archers in the company. Comparing them, he wonders if he's right in thinking Ashe more careful with his life.

The walk out to the pond isn't far. He considers going further, to the river where there are more obstacles and variables, but this is a better start. The next time, he thinks, they will go there. "You've been working hard and getting far, it's not easy to keep up with everyone, but you do."

He readies the line as the end of the arrow. The hardest part of this kind of fishing is the line either being too heavy and taut or too fragile. "So as a professor, I would like to help you soar as high as you want to go."

#[mmm fish || threads]#[ashe || supports]

this is kind of the opposite of let it go

infamous - reason +1

radiantlodestar

‘It’s impossible to do everything on your own…’ Marth already knew that much but there were moments where he forgot that. He was used to helping people whenever possible back home and it seems like those tendencies had followed him here.

However, when he saw Byleth put out the flames that threatened to consume his cape, the young man’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly worried that the professor had hurt himself. That fear was soon alleviated, however, when the other held his hand up and there was no injury aside from a slight redness.

“I-I understand but… will you be alright? You smothered a flame with your bare hands after all.”

He asked, still concerned about Byleth’s safety over his own.

"It's fine." He's done worse and had worse done to his hands before. A whisper of a flame like that stung but did little more. "Do you have another cape? If you take this one back to the monastery as is, they can med it for you, but it may take a while."

The edges of his own cape and the slightly mismatches greys that fill the holes tells the story of a man who's more than familiar with the wait times and process.

From the back of his throat, Byleth lets out a small hum, and as if to prove it is completely fine his hand raises to his chin. "Instead of putting out the fires by choking them out with another... there's likely another spell that can act as a barrier between the grass fuel and the flames."

There is a small smile that crosses his lips as he looks up. "We should search for it when we return to the monastery."

#[this is kind of the opposite of let it go || threads]#//you're perfectly fine! never any rush

get baited

byleth & azura | infamous: lance +1 | board

A scar would make me look brave, and Azura doesn't have to act horrified for it to show in her expression. The thought of a scar that traces the neck... she recoils, brushing her sleeve against the tip of an axe. "Lord Nilsson, you cannot be saying such things!"

And then, even if she thinks the brigands are in for more of a surprise than they are, she snaps her head over to the other voice. "You can't say that!" she hisses, slipping her hand past a blade to wag her finger. Her voice then raises with each word, adrenaline serving as a reasonable substitute for the panic she is supposed to embody: "You... you swore that by having milord here, you would not hurt—!"

"Someone," the leading woman drawls, "take care of her."

"You liars, you cheats—" and the sharp breath is genuine as the flat of a blade is pressed against her back, pushing her toward the double doors at the end of the hall. She spares a knowing glance back at Byleth, wishing him luck through silence, and then back to acting she goes. She spits murmurs under her breath ( "—degenerates, idiots, scum, dirtbags—!" ) before—

A brigand swings the doors open; a brigand still has their blade to her back; and the last brigand swipes his axe upwards, the tip of it nicking Azura in the cheek. She falls into silence past a small gasp, hand reaching over for her face to find scarlet already dribbling out of the wound. Her eyes narrow as she glares, but the brigand only seems to take satisfaction as he gestures to the doors. "Go."

With a huff, she stomps her way through; and although she expects someone to follow, there is the loud bang and click of the doors instead. A glance back, and there are no more brigands (thank the gods); a glance around the room, and she has merely some of the answers she's looking for.

Her gaze softens as it lands on two trembling villagers, backs pressed against the wall. The hand doused in crimson falls from her cheek, and there is no more guileless, meek squeaking in her voice as she asks, "Where... is everyone else?"

There is a small nod as he is taken elsewhere. The minute they are out of sights of one another, of the escorts that would surely lead them both to the same doom through separate paths, he books it.

Breaking free from the lackluster binds would likely have been a task for the poor noble scion he was assumed to be, but he's learned one too many things from the others in Jeralt's company.

Now the question becomes, where are the rest of the hostages. If they were competent enough to organize a kidnapping and ransom on this scale, then they wouldn't keep them all in the same place. This cave has enough passageways that it's possible.

He's shaken off the most pressing of his captors but plenty still guard every hall he could cross through. One opening seems to have a hostage... but carrying them with him at this point would get them both killed so instead he continues gathering the layout of the place.

@corvusi

#[get baited || threads]#[henry || supports]#//henry appearing in this thread truly makes the get baited apt-

From One Mysterious Swordsman to Another || Xander & M!Byleth

Chance Meeting || @crested-flames || Mission Season: Herald

For Xander, it was complete natural that one of the first places he would visit upon arriving in Fodlan was the training grounds. The ship that brought him here - fairly small, rocking gently on the waves, and full of civilian passengers - lended itself very poorly to sword practice, and those couple days were more than enough for him to start feeling stiff and out of shape. A shortcoming that demanded immediate attention.

Or maybe he was just overly anxious. Surely for someone like him, two weeks or so without proper training wouldn't be enough to forget everything and lose proper grip. Still, he wasn't about to keep waiting to find out the hard way. Not when there was an easy opportunity to remedy the issue.

Siegfried's familiar weight remained sheathed by his side for the time being; after a few days of forced break, it was best to start with something lighter. One of the many practice swords at the Academy's disposal would do perfectly fine. Weighing it in his hand, he swings once, then twice, even this small and mostly harmless blade doing a fine job carrying the power of his movements;

And then, a noise behind his back caught his attention. His instinct taking over before he could react, he turned swiftly - more so, perhaps, that one would expect based on the armor he wore - and pointed the edge at the person whose steps he heard a moments ago.

... Ah. That's just one of the Professors at the Academy, isn't it.

"My apologies," Xander says quickly, lowering the blade. "I can do rather poorly approached from behind. I meant no offense."

Of the places in the monastery, the most bustling is the training grounds. At least, that is what he’s assumed at this point. Of course his chosen students prefering to pull him along here may have something to do with that opinion or perhaps with so many seasoned fighters, they wish not to have their blades fall dull.

Whatever the place with the most traffic may or may not be, he can easily say that the training grounds is where the largest amount of discarded and misplaced blades are. Some have inscriptions in languages he cannot read and others with familiar crests that he tucks away to later return to their owner. If they leave things in this state, eventually the grounds will become a field where one must navigate not stepping on and breaking a wooden blade.

The pile in Byleth’s arms has grown much too large and one of the swords clatters to the ground.

Instinct tells him to pick it up but the world stops for a moment and the man in front of him draws. Ah. That would have certainly been an injury to have.

One step back and Byleth tilts his head skyward to avoid the tip of the blade at his neck.

“I should have watched where I was going.” A task quite difficult to manage with a stack of wooden swords within his arms. “I haven’t seen you before.”

It feels rather rude to keep the stack of swords or to not shake his hand - there are a number of steps Byleth has failed to make during this meeting but… it can’t quite be helped at the moment. If it is true that he’s just arrived, making a man of, assumed, station immediately do work would have the cardinals chastising him.

#[from one mysterious swordsman to another || threads]#[xander || supports]

someone who understands

ethereal ball — 2026

Ike watches the man inhale. It's not quite like the nobles he's seen, almost basking in the flowers. It's a simple gesture, one Ike can't explain. He takes the flower, holding the stem between his fingers like a champagne flute. "Thanks." He copies the man's gesture. "It smells pretty strong to me."

He looks down at the flower. "I'm not much of a performer. It's probably why they hated me back when I was one of them." The words slip out, unbidden. Does he ever talk about that time? Has he told anyone from outside of home?

"I guess if you all stink, the person who stinks the most will draw the most attention." He looks back at the ballroom. "I don't think I can stomach going back in there. Don't let me keep you."

“You were one of them?” Disbelief is the last thing that enters his tone. Despite the unconventional manner of dress and perhaps more rugged nature of the man at his side, this is a leader. Of course that did not make him a noble, this man indeed is not a noble. That is all the more reason to believe he could have once been. “You’re for the people, however.”

If it is correct or not, Byleth would like to believe that such is the correct judgement. He is not a performer and some would believe that means he could not be for people… but what does a blade need to perform for? So long as it cuts what it need be, that is perfomance enough.

Byleth reels in his thoughts as, mindlessly, he throws a flower by it’s stem over the ledge and into the pond. “I’m quite happy here. I don’t belong in there either unless called.”

He turns his head skyward and looks up with a small smile. “Or unless something has gone horribly awry.”

#[someone who understands || threads]#toaball2026

cease looking with those big ole eyes

infamous - gauntlets +1

"Blasted, wretched things – away – away - !!"

She had a few more choice words for the devices, that seemed to hover and stick to her sides no matter where she stepped. Ostensibly, they were merely to monitor the path into the Goddess Tower, and while that in itself was all well and good, Lachesis found sight of them in other places as well, popping up well into the cathedral proper, along the bridge into the reception hall, dotting the dormitories and the training hall, and even, on an occasion or two that really drew her ire, around the perimeter of the sauna.

Any of these would have been sufficient to draw her ire, in truth, and she would not have been remorseful if she had been intentional in destroying them – not that it mattered after the fourth or fifth, and there came a time when Lachesis' instinct was purely to treat them like the invasive little insects that they were.

The pure nerve, to spy on those in the monastery halls. The thought brought her to seething the more she lingered on it, and linger was all that she could do once they well and truly began to crop up everywhere. It seemed that there was no choice but to have eyes on one's back wherever one went - as though many people here did not deserve the dignity of a moment to themselves.

"What a good look you must get," she snapped at another, one just out of reach unless she felt the instinct to grab a bow. "At everyone who comes and goes. What a show we must put on for you."

At a point, it must be intentional. Every place that the devices had been installed, they had been destroyed. Byleth has little horse in this race aside from the fact that the church will likely try and find and punish whomever it is.

…Silently, broken shards of glass and blackened metal are swept to the side with his foot. As he makes the rounds to the cathedral, the scraps are thrown off the far side of the monastery by the well. He hurries along to better catch up with the culprit because the sooner they stop, the sooner they both avoid trouble with the groundskeepers of the church.

There is a voice not too far ahead in the halls. He’s gathered a bag now, each step making the metal and glass shift and screech against itself concerncingly, and picks up his pace to catch up to it.

A show? How could she possibly mean?

If the bag of scrap did not do enough to announce his presence, he holds his free hand up and takes a pointed step forward. There’s an awkward pause on his part as he isn’t quite sure what to say. If it’s the wrong thing, then it sounds too much like he’s going to report her. The evidence of her actions in his right hand don’t quite help that.

“Do things like that exist where you’re from too?” He settles upon those words and wonders if someone might have chided him for them had she heard. He can only hope warmth is read into his otherwise deadpan expression.

#[cease looking with those big ole eyes || threads]

mmm fish

continued from here

It's a different world, that much he can certainly agree with. Sitting at the eaves and being expected to partake made large enough a difference that still Byleth found himself falling into old habits of minimized presence. "I don't see it being the last."

At the question he nods. "Two birds with one stone." He picks up his own bow and holds it out. He's done this kind of fishing before but it's not as fun as a proper rod and a pier. This too is a means of teaching. "The distortions from the water can make it difficult to aim, so this will help you there." As well as simply being a new experience.

"Let's go then," he says from the class' door. And, "We can talk more about the ball on our way there." Though Byleth has little to add from himself.

@lunaestice

#//to be tagged

continue from last save file..?

Her hand tightens ever so slightly against the man's own at that soft reassurance- "it's alright"- spoken so carefully near her temple as if it could break glass if even a fraction louder. If her face wasn't already flushed before, it definitely is more so now that her heart squeezes in her chest at such a gentle display. And if her heart skips a beat.. well, she elects to ignore it ( even if it causes her foot to catch the floor once more ).

Selena's hold at Byleth's shoulder shifts just a tad as she re-adjusts, refusing to look up for several moments as she tries to collect herself. If she knew she'd be making such a fool of herself, she'd never have even asked to--

Thankfully, the answer to her question comes as a good distraction- scarlet eyes peering up with a near glossy aspect to them. After taking a second to process the answer, she scoffs ( a front ) as she faintly shakes her head.

❛ "Trust what you know" huh..? What kind of lame tip is that? What's the point in asking for something if you just respond with "you know it already"? Idiot- ❜

The half-scowl on her face is diminished by the still-present tint of her skin. Even though the advice really is good, and something Selena will keep in mind, she still has to pick apart what god awful initial answer. But once more, her disapproval is hardly the main thing when it's lessened by the way her lips curl just at the edges.

Once more the redhead meets Byleth's gaze, emitting a more light-hearted huff ( to hide the quietest giggle ) as Selena steps with more confidence than a few minutes ago- practically dragging her partner along as she side-steps him to extend their joined hands out to the side and make a large circle as they spin.

❛ Yeah yeah, excellent tips there professor. I'll be sure to pass all that along to the next bozo who needs it. ❜

who are you again? and what are you doing here @crested-flames?

"You must have been a mercenary." Be it the manner she speaks or the tough love evident in her response. There is little attached to the feelings he recalls when he thinks about her sort. The ones that tended to help out the younger and less fortunate. The ones that were first to defend and allow those same young ones to grow. The ones that held dreams forever untapped, passed along to those who they had left their skills with as well.

I'm glad you're a teacher, though the words are simply thought - he needn't spur on another caring remark - Byleth wonders how exactly she would feel about him even thinking such a thing.

Back to the topic at hand, his mind works as he's allowed a moment off from leading. "Well, it's a reminder."

A pause, and his lips curl upward slightly. "The question is too open ended. A tip to not second guess isn't bad for someone who is second guessing."

#toaball2026 #[selena || supports]

a poison a day keeps the - wait no || claude & byleth

infamous - sword +1

The dining halls wooden floors are marked with the outline of the man's body - the source of which that's been transported to the cellar already. Maid and butler alike do what they can to collect clues from the surrounding cabinetry and tables without disturbing the scene too much.

"The stab wounds suffered were both extremely shallow and far too deep from what I gathered." For the man's dignity, he'd been properly wrapped up but the blood that seeped through the sheet painted a clear enough picture.

Byleth maintains his neutral tone in spite of his status among those suspected of the crime. There's a bit much to speculate here if he's trying to use past experiences. For now, they need to establish alibis, find the weapon that killed the man, and present a clean story to the nobles who will be arriving as judge, jury, and potential executioner. A task far outside of his expertise.

He gently tugs Claude to the side, allowing one of the room's larger cabinets to obscure them from the view of others. "I can only tell you if the weapon presented matches up with the wounds on the guy. If someone's acting shifty I can point you towards them."

This is supposed to be some kind of lesson after all. "I'll follow your lead." It is his domain after all.

@failnaughted

Well ain't that a great start to the investigation. Claude would be lying if he claimed that the Viscount's constant mewling for protection wasn't getting a little on his nerves, for it disrupted most other attempts at investigation - even if, on the basic human instinct level, he understood the drive the man felt to protect his skin, even if it was his skin alone.

He hasn't been here for that long yet, but he was already familiar enough with the ways of the Alliance to know that the unified front was really just a mask to present to the outside world. Inside, everyone thought first and foremost about their own interest, and at least some of the noble houses, especially the less influential ones, wouldn't hesitate to throw others to the wolves for their own sake.

What annoyed him more than anything else, however, was the revelation that this time his own instinct has failed him, and the man paid for it with his life. Turns out his paranoia was not unfounded, after all, and even if his whining was getting under everyone's skin, it should have been taken more seriously than it was.

Following Teach's hint for a more discreet exchange, he considers his words for a moment, before nodding.

"I'll do my best to handle the arguing part. Neither of us had a reason to do this, but I can only hope the explanation gets through their paranoia, which isn't a given." He winces. "Maybe an analysis of the weapon and wounds will help, so I'll leave that to you. Let's just try to stay calm."

It's hard to say whether he meant the last part more for Byleth or just himself.

"It can cast just as much as it will clear it." Too many times he's seen that dance; telling a merchant they gave out fault equipment only to be accused of breaking it and attempting to scam. If they knew so much, who's to say they didn't do it?

Even if the battle of convincing them is Claude's to fight, Byleth will provide a steady ground with which he can fight it on.

Before they start on the more hands on bit, they'd need to establish alibis. "A little after midnight is when they suspect he passed." The coroner as well would be arriving with their noble judges - an unfortunate circumstance as it means it is still almost entirely guesswork that guides them.

"You'd retired to your room by then, right?" The worst they can do is suspect each other. To begin with, Claude isn't that kind of person. But it's not like their judges would care to know that.

Any hand that can fit the knife, they'll try to foist it into.

#[a poison a day keeps the - wait no || threads]

this is kind of the opposite of let it go

infamous - reason +1

radiantlodestar

“But… what if one requires help right away?” The prince turned mage asked. He was used to sacrificing a lot if it meant helping people, even his own health and safety.

Really, this was a bad habit of his and one that would not be easily broken. If he were being honest, he didn’t mind it although it was also somewhat troubling at times. With a sigh, he allowed for Byleth to grab the edge of the burning cape, realizing that the other was only trying to help.

Blue eyes looked up at the professor in a mix of concern and slight fear as he blinked once and noticed that Byleth was trying to grab the burning cape with his bare hands.

“W-wait! I don’t think touching the flames with your bare hands is a good idea!” He said in a tone that was the same mix of fear and concern that he had been expressing for a while.

Byleth's eyes soften. A student who would allow himself to walk around with a burnt – actively burning – cape for the sake of putting out the flames quicker isn't one who needs too harsh a reprimand. Honestly, if he thinks about what Jeralt would say...

First, he bunches the cape up and with a splash of water on his hand, covers and drains the flame of its fuel. The edges are still singed but with an academy like this, someone could probably mend it.

"I didn't want to step on it," he says blankly as he looks up. "It would have been faster, but sometimes that's not the answer."

His hand is held up, palm splayed out to show that, aside from a bit of redness, there is no injury.

"You don't always save the most people by rushing in. You might save some of them quicker, but there will always be those you miss regardless of how quickly you arrive anywhere to start." Maybe it's not his place to talk about it. Often times, he is simply the final blow given to an already weakened force. His time of action is planned to prevent a second wind and allow their own mercenaries a chance to recuperate while their targets have to continue dealing with an onslaught.

"It's impossible to do everything on your own and not everyone who follows you will be as strong as you. An accurate assessment of your forces will go a much longer way on the field." ...his throat is starting to hurt from speaking so much...

#[this is kind of the opposite of let it go || threads]

[ YLISSE ] - The successor of the Archanean minuet, this waltz suits modern Ylissean tastes with easy-to-learn steps, a faster pace, and a closeness to your partner that continues to scandalize the older generations in Ylisse.

It's not every day that Selena gets to reminisce about her past- her true past. So, now that she's in an entirely new world, one that doesn't host consequences ( she hopes ) for the truth being revealed, she will take every chance she can get.. even if she goes about it in as vague a method as possible.

By that, one means to not provide the full details ( you know.. just in case ) about things. Such as where this dance originated- and who she learned it from. Aside from the fact that it is a touchy subject-- Hey, it's okay! She had given Byleth a tulip instead of an answer. Totally the same thing-

Her posture is a little awkward, shoulder blades a tad tight with the occasional skid in her step. Tripping is just about the absolute worst when trying to share or teach someone else.. embarrassing and unhelpful. Thankfully, she doesn't, but the faint tint to her cheeks betrays the underlying flustered state the redhead is in.

Doesn't help that the waltz requires the pair to leave barely enough space for air to pass between them as they move- lest they trip over each other, being best case scenario. Seriously, who came up with such a dance method--!! She outta punch the loser in the gut.. gawds. Whatever, just as long as the sweat under her gloves doesn't get noticed... Selena hates sweating.

Despite her own internal battle, a melancholic undertone hides just beneath her self-conscious apologetic yet appreciative grin.

❛ .... I know this is probably the worst time, but uh- ❜

Selena pauses- in both her steps and her breathing- for just a moment before continuing.

❛ You got any tips for teaching- like, in general? .......Not that I can't teach! I'm an excellent teacher! I'm just.. curious, is all.. yup. ❜

It's an interesting dance. Being this close to another person is putting a lot of trust. If he missteps, she falls and vice versa.

When he accepted the tulip and returned a lily of his own, he didn't expect such a tight hold to be the standard. It's an adjustment for them both he thinks. When he steps nearly skid, he pauses to allow her some stability. When a blush tints her cheeks, he doesn't hesitate to speak quietly such that no one else might hear them. "It's alright."

Slowly but surely, it becomes easier, their steps are more in time and if she falters, he knows how to right her. So this is the power of a dance...

They pause, the music still playing as they take a breath and he thinks about what she's asked.

"Trust what you know." That's not really good advice so he hums and thinks of a better way to put it. "Look at the future of your students and guide them to the one that suits them. Sometimes talking to them makes hidden strengths show up and other times you have to stop them from straying because it is what their peers are doing."

He looks around and then down where normally he'd find his feet, but instead he just finds Selena's eyes. "Is that a good answer?"

#toaball2026 #//byleth vc i peer into the class i want them in for this run #//byleth vc i have tea time with them until our supports are good enough that they listen when i switch their study plans

someone who understands

ethereal ball — 2026

"It stinks," Ike says. "I don't know how they can stand it." It smells of rotting flowers, of sweat, and yes, of expensive fragrances. Cloying, suffocating, all the trappings of nobility that Ike will never miss.

"Out here is better. You can breathe, you don't have to perform." Ike rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry. I shouldn't complain." He wants to, considering it's not like it had been his choice to be here in the first place.

Byleth can't help but to pull a lily free and bring it up to his nose. On its lonesome, it is soft and inoffensive. He holds it out over to the other man. "It's not a strong scent, but if you hold it to your nose while you're in there it could help it smell less overwhelming."

"There's nothing wrong with it. If you don't then your performance slips." Such notions only apply when there are airs to keep he thinks. If lending an ear helps it be easier to return to the festivities, then where is the harm in it.

"Many of them seem used to it. No other reason they'd wear such heavy smelling stuff."

@ephemeralove [ CORN ] "Ah... S, sorry." She withdraws her hand from the bag of corn they'd both reached for, bowing her head slightly. "Go ahead..." Only as she turns does she glimpse his face, a glimmer of recognition in her eyes. "You're... a Blue Lions professor, aren't you?" The question slips out without meaning to, and, flustered, she feels the need to justify it somehow. "I-I was a Blue Lions student before I graduated... I still work as a knight, though, so I, um... saw you around..."

It's an interesting snack. A surprising amount of nobles had picked it up which made him a little unsure if it'd actually suit his tastes but there is nothing for it except to try.

Byleth's hand pull back when it nearly brushes into someone else's whilst reaching for a bag. "I insist." And rather than waiting, he nudges the bag closer to her hand.

The recognition in her voice freezes him for a moment but when the word professor escapes, he wonders how many people will be more familiar with him for his feats in a classroom rather than on the battlefield. Is that such a bad thing?

"I am." He pauses as slate blue eyes stay on the corn snack bag while his free hand pulls a lily from his bouquet and slides it up next to it. "Are you enjoying it, your time as a knight? I've wondered what it is I could work on to help my students..."

to blossom in tempo

ethereal ball - white heron cup match 3 || lene & byleth v. alcryst & lapis

Ah... that green-haired girl is so assured of her victory that she beams a consoling smile to them. It's rather understandable, to be honest... But Alcryst can't let himself dwell on it. As she spins, pink dress swirling in the air, the prince of Brodia stays focused on his partner.

Alcryst loves that intense expression on Lapis' face. It flickers only for a moment when she apologizes for her dancing. "You're doing great," he whispers, and he means it. Lapis talks about her dancing like she has two left feet, but it's clear to Alcryst that she's much better than she claims. Has she been practicing? If she has, then Alcryst wants to match her dedication.

"Stay with me." Alcryst shifts his focus to how he is dancing, taking greater care to move the way he is supposed to. He loves the chaotic freestyle way of dancing that Pandreo introduced to him, but he still has formal dance training to lean on. Where Lapis missteps, Alcryst is quick to move in a way that makes it look intentional. They've fought alongside each other on the battlefield long enough that he can anticipate her movements.

The song is almost over. Alcryst flashes his own smile to Lapis, encouraging her to do the same. Regardless of the outcome, he's glad to be here with her.

The moment Alcryst plays off of their battlefield experience together, everything goes much more smoothly. Lapis's nimble movements get to shine, the strength to her style of combat effortlessly blending in with her execution of each step, feeling more in her comfort zone. It's no longer about fitting herself into a routine that doesn't match her but instead letting their bond and trust blossom on full display for all eyes around them to see— the kind of thing forged and unable to be robbed from them both.

“These dancers...! It's like a complete transformation!” the judging panel remarks in awe at both duos, but their voices feel so far away from Lapis in the current moment.

Alcryst tells her to stay with him, to which the answer is as natural as can be: “Always!” At last, she cracks a smile in return for his.

And just in time, for the last note of the song plays, and the violinists set their instruments down. Lapis turns around, face to face with the judges finalizing their verdicts.

“Huh? Am I reading that right?” Lapis gasps, eyes going wide. “Did we really—?”

ALCRYST & LAPIS SCORE: 20.5 NEXT: @crested-flames or @dancersnewme !!

The song makes its grand exit and the judges seem to contemplate for a moment. That they even need to do that much is somewhat reassuring. Could he go another round if need be?

Once more, a gloved hand raises to wipe sweat away from his chin. Even in this kind of weather, such an intense dance isn't for a weary heart.

With the deliberation ended, the winning pair is donned in a brilliant blue spotlight that's reminiscent of the heavens shining down upon someone. "Lapis and Alcryst will move on to the next round!"

Ah- so those are their names. The spectators erupt into cheers and whoops and it is no wonder. From the beginning the two of them held the kind of trust that extended far past just the steps they were making on this dance floor. Byleth bows his head to Lene. "I hadn't trained as much as I could, I apologize. Thank you for the wonderful dance."

And to the winning pair he turns with a soft smile. "Congratulations, I don't think I've had such a good time dancing before."

#toaball2026 #//thank you for the wonderful thread #//byleth on his way to everyone's inboxes after this #//i wanted to do more of an illust but then the vn worm got me

@crested-flames - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag