#edgecfdawn

[aethele]

“ professor … forgive me for being so candid,  but you are looking a little rough at the edges.  are you holding up all right ? ”

one-liner  /   @edgecfdawn​

[dreyari]

    “what would you have done, had you not become a professor here, my teacher? presumably your father would have been roped into rhea’s service nonetheless, leaving you to your devices. what would you have done with the freedom?” 

i can see you as a fisherman by trade / @edgecfdawn​

[atrcity]

     “ Professor... “ 

     Silence filled the area between the two.     Blue hues only casting their stare towards his one and only professor.     “ If this is about our last conversation ----- I assure you there is nothing to worry about. “     Distancing himself from the matter at hand was only natural.     The edges of his lips curled into a smile like a bright sun, but the brighter it is, the bigger shadow it casts.     The tinge of sorrow hiding within the gallows of his body.     ( There are other subjects to worry about )     Arms crossed over his chest, the usual expression of lax overcoming his visage.     “ Please don’t let my troubles hinder you in any way.   I’m sure the others could use your concern much more than my own problems. “ 

@edgecfdawn​​ asked  “ you can tell me anything . ”

[cichole]

edgecfdawn replied to your post “boy howdy was seteth so mad that rhea has not only forgot to mention...”

or the killer robots in the holy tomb, or the magic goblet in the cliffside, or that she infused her blood with jeralt, or making clones and sitri being one of those clones and --

[detheknyght]

war councils are a  bore.  politics  a bland,  insipid taste to jeritza’s tongue,  not that they often make it there,  and his ears take little use in listening to strategies the death knight will dismiss with the solid hunk of his laugh.  he has but one order to follow,  his scythe one place to be,  the space just between the final,  gasping breath. 

so jeritza does little more than stare across the table at byleth.  it is not so odd;  it is what he does each and every meeting,  his gaze no less esurient.  a few times their eyes meet,  before byleth’s attention is stolen back away.  but it feels different now,  a lingering that wasn’t there before,  a strange solidarity in the silence.    

jeritza does not move from his seat when the council adjourns,  nor does he attempt to hide the blank notes,  quill long dry,  before him.  simply observes byleth field last minute questions to former students,  though byleth rushes them now.  sharp answers,  curt.  as if he is distant, faraway.   

one by one the room empties,  and jeritza waits until heavy doors shudder shut,  leaving two. 

“ professor. ”  a rare greeting,  a little softer than he intends it.  but no other cadence or lilt crouches beneath it,  nothing to suggest anything other than his usual acedia.  his gaze is open when he looks up at byleth from his seat,  mouth a tight line,  shoulders an uneven slouch where they can’t quite let go of battle’s posture.  “ you are … distracted.  why. ”

@edgecfdawn​  /   closed starter.

[hecvenwept]

@edgecfdawn​​ said: [ bloody ] ; for your  muse  coming  to  my  muse  with  blood  stains

ONE-WORD PROMPTS

He hadn’t expected anyone to come knocking at such a late time- even if he was still working rather than going to bed, the effects of which he was certain would burden him the following day.

And if he hadn’t expected someone to knock at all, then he’d certainly not expected the sight that greeted him when he opened the door.

❝  Wha- Professor! Whatever happened to you?!  ❞

Byleth’s clothes were stained with blood- so much blood, its metallic tang reaching him and awakening dark, dark images he’d shoved deep into the back of his mind. 

Without thinking too much about it, Seteth grabbed the other man’s arm with the intention of pulling him into the room.

❝  Are you injured? Sit on the bed, I.. I’ll find some bandages. Just, tell me what happened.  ❞

[servicide]

         he stares down the target as he lines up his throw, narrow eyes squinting as he imagines its trajectory, thinks of the knife striking through its center.  deep breaths.  hubert steps forward then, and when he brings his arm forward and releases the blade, he gives a battle cry atypical for himself.  

         “ raaaah ! ” 

         perhaps it is that he is comfortable at his former teacher’s side.  perhaps he is just glad to have the catharsis.  goddess only knew that caspar would taunt hubert for using the yelling - while - training method, but luckily for hubert, nobody else was around.  the knife spins through the air and makes a ‘ THUCK ’ sound as it embeds into the target, but to the upper left of center.  “ damn, ” he murmurs, sighing.  he compares where his knife landed to where byleth’s did, ( just in the middle of the target ).  “ mmh... your aim is impeccable.  i will have to train with you more often to ensure improvement on my end. ”

@edgecfdawn​ i said this would be short and i am sorry.

[fellstrs]

fellstrs asked: “ you were just trying to defend yourself, weren’t you?”

interrogation // @fellstrs // accepting

☀️ — “I didn’t want to KILL him if I didn’t have to.”

He’d like to think he can take a walk without getting ambushed, but maybe that was too lofty a dream. It isn’t as though he’s FRIGHTENED of walking alone - in fact, quite the opposite. It is strangers who are often scared of HIM. Sometimes they even took it upon themselves to attack him, if they were fanatical enough to believe his unfortunate nickname had any truthful footing. This, from what he can assume, was why he was suddenly beset by a knife wielding man, who simply refused to LISTEN to him. He had no choice but to fight.

“I could knocked him unconscious, or ran away,” he takes a breath and sighs it out slow, running fingers through his hair. “He was trying to kill me but…”

         ❛  you did it because you had to, dear brother.  ’ her tone adopts a soft inflection, albeit resolute and unyielding. their father had taught them with intention and taught them well. a rough palm, marred by the hilt of her sword, settles reassuringly upon his shoulder, a gentle squeeze and a blank gaze. it was true, wherever they wished to occupy days at a time, it was common knowledge that the two were ruthless on the battle field. whatever moniker she’d acquired was a non-factor for her as long as it meant her brother and their father remained safe. 

        ❛  he would’ve come back looking for you, for us, if you hadn’t. you made the right decision,  ’ she’s always considered every single possibility in an unfavorable situation,  ❛ had you left him unconscious or allowed him to run away - he could have retaliated. he could’ve returned to town, gathered numbers and attacked where we sleep. the possibility of any of us getting hurt is something i know you’re not willing to risk. if anyone comes looking for revenge, then we will be prepared to deal with it. i’ll stand by you,  ’ yet, as she surveys the man’s corpse, the lack of armor and how his attire left much to be desired, was enough to deduce he held no status. the chances of anyone seeking revenge were slim, such is the appalling truth of their society. this attack was likely a ploy at prize money, who can defeat the ashen demons for a lofty prize. she gives another reassuring squeeze,  ❛ are you okay ? ’ she asks, genuine concern marring the subtle furrow of a brow.