#damoselcastel

[tsukkimin]

Gift for my friend @damoselcastel, her OC Noukon! Thank you for always being such a great friend! Hope this drawing will help manifest yor OW into existence!

[arthoure]

@damoselcastel

Aha, you've exposed my secret! I've never played a game in a timely fashion, ever, in my entire life 😌

I haven't played a single 2024 release yet. I've mostly been replaying Baldur's Gate 3 or getting through my backlog (Great Ace Attorney, Dorf Romantik). But next up is Princess Peach: Showtime, which I'm SO excited for.

[therentyoupay]

✨facets

1-sentence fic meme [jelsa]:

"Don't give up," he urged her—this almost-queen, this tired and lost and scared woman who could not hear him, as she cried her diamond tears and pounded her clenched fists against the slamming doors—because even the most brilliant diamond only becomes so through pressure and polish, and so Anna would be okay, Elsa would be okay, even if everything was wrong.

[hyperbali]

Oh, I know! I actually did that in Jeanne's game, because she and Alistair absolutely could not stand each other by the end, but I didn't want him to end up a drunkard or dead (and deep down, neither would she)

I just meant in the sense that trying to keep Loghain alive while also having Alistair agree to marry you might be. A little rough. Lmao

[randomnameless]

damoselcastel

Man, who else can ATTEND the Academy from Galatea? That's expensive and they don't got money :| But yeah, pretty sure Ingrid's fam is supoosed to stand in for land-poor aristocrats, rather than a consiracy theory via the Church keeping her fam down.

I can’t reply to comments i hate it??

In her tea-time lines with Billy, Ingrid reveals she has a brother! He apparently used to yell at her for spending too much time with her horse.

But I was actually thinking about her dad, maybe he attended with Rodrigue and Lambert? I never got the impression Ingrid is the first Galatea to be enrolled in the academy, but actually idk.

[markoftheasphodel]

damoselcastel said: Dang and places WONDER why people quit via ghosting these days. As if they aren't planting tons of red flags to RUN

My spouse said tonight, “it’s like they’re daring you all to unionize.” And it’s basically true, because they pulled out the threat of a mass lay-off. I’ve known the likely consequence of unionization is they’d lay us off, but if they’re thinking of it anyway I’d rather have a lay-off with a union calling the terms than a non-union one. 

But yeah, threats and fuckery abound. I’m starting to think progressive advocacy groups are the equivalent of those art/writing exploitation places that pay in “exposure” except they pay you in virtue points. Because they sure love screwing you out of benefits.

[agoddamn]

damoselcastel replied to your post “really wish Lancelot had a better artist because damn normally I'd go...”

I always remember this design when I think of Lanceolot, always forgetting in FGO he's got a purple buzz cut. They likely didn't go with this version cause of how Saber Gilles De Rais looks, maybe?

It’s worth noting that they haven’t retconned the long-haired design out of existence; it’s a costume in Extella Link.

My guess is that they wanted a distinctly different appearance for non-Berserker Lancelot. I get it, but I wish they hadn’t. Even just the longer hair/eye tweak goes a long way towards making Saberlot less ugly.

[mwritesink]

17+W, Gilbert/m!Byleth

17 & W: “You can’t keep doing this”, Home Base (also with a mute!Byleth. Gilbert knows sign language) late meme answer

Byleth pounded hard on the door to Gilbert’s room. Another shopping trip to the markets near the entrance of the Monastery, another time where Gilbert had run off like a dog with its tail between its legs becuase, oh horror of horrors, he managed to have a good time. 

His fist fell a fourth time, aiming for wood, but instead was caught in a calloused hand. Gilbert quickly loosened his grip, not wanting to force Byleth to be silent. His face was a carved from stone as ever. For a moment, Byleth considered forgiving him, being gentle and coddling his feelings. 

No. No. Not this time

“You can not keep doing this,” Byleth said, his hands flashing through the words like a sword through flesh. “There is nothing wrong with not suffering for ten minutes of your life. Whatever you are dealing with, get over it.” 

Gilbert sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

“No. It is ridiculous. You will not say what happened, yet you let it hang on you like a geas. So either talk to me, or get over it.”

Perhaps there was a flash of something in Gilbert’s eyes. Perhaps something changed. It was hard to tell. 

The door closed in Byleth’s face. 

Well. Fine then.

------

The month had been marked by constant dark clouds. 

“Please, Gilbert,” The young prince said, not begging, but also not ordering, caught between his roles as student and sovereign-to-be. “The professor barely comes out of his room except for when he absolutely needs to. I don’t even think he’s been eating.” 

Byleth was not known for emotional displays,  Point of fact, he was not known for any sort of display, emotional or otherwise, though it had been changing, evolving. Shutting himself in his room for hours was new. Not unexpected but new. 

Jeralt was dead. Byleth both witnessed the murder, and held his corpse well into the rainy night. Gilbert had been the only one to pull him away. Alois, Shamir, and Catherine were all met with the same open mouthed noiseless shout, like a wild cat chasing off fellow predators. 

Gilbert knocked softly on the door. It opened under his hand. 

Inside, it was dark. Not even a candle was lit on the desk. Gilbert took out a small box of lucifer sticks from where he knew Byleth kept them in the desk’s drawer. the stick scraped to life when he dragged it against the wall, and let the candle take on the flame. Now with sufficient light. Gilbert closed the door and sat next to Byleth on the bed. 

The other man looked like he had not bathed, his hair sticking together in odd clumps, amusingly reminiscent of Prince Dimitri’s hair. on the floor near the head of the bed were some trays. As Prince Dimitri had assumed, Byleth had not been eating, but hiding the trays so not to make it that obvious. 

“You can’t keep doing this.” Gilbert said, his hands accompanying his voice. “I seem to recall someone once telling me to either talk about it, or get over it.”

Byleth finally looked at him. His throat moved as if swallowing back something. Gilbert waited. How was it that even like this, Byleth was handsome? The dim light thrown off by the single candle etching shadows that contoured the angles of Byleth’s face. 

“My father is dead.” Byleth finally said. His hands moved slowly as he repeated himself. “My father. is dead.” 

“I know.” 

“I do not know what to do.”

“No one does.” 

There was a wet patch on Gilbert’s shoulder. It was followed by weight and a warmth against his chest. Byelth had leaned against him. It took Gilbert a moment to realize what to do, but he eventually got it, putting his arm around Byleth’s back and letting him sob in his odd silence, releasing the emotion that had tangled up inside him, too overwhelming to name or understand alone.