#inigo fe

[sillylittle-artblog]

Loverboy

[indigowallbreaker]

Perhaps 20 and 22 (or just 22) for Fire Emblem?

20: Part of Fire Emblem canon you found tedious or boring

I love Inigo very much. A good boy, your honor. Fabulous mother. He's a strong unit and pleasant presence no matter his hair color. I cannot fucking deal with his recruitment chapter (feel free to refresh your memory).

FIRST you have the labyrinth in front of you where almost every enemy has a ranged weapon with a wall for cover and that narrow path makes capitalizing on the buddy system stat bonuses (I'm blanking on the real term, let me live) harder to do. THEN you have the fliers to the north and south who come after you and your patience with their ranged weapons and wind magic spells. On top of THAT, you have incentive to make sure Inigo-- who should by all rights be your weakest unit on the map at that point-- kills 1-5 enemies so you can get cool prizes post-chapter.

Balancing all that gets tedious. I end up restarting a bunch because I didn't realize the wrong unit was in range of an attack or Inigo missed a crit or a flying enemy zigged when I was counting on them zagging. There's just soooo many factors at play and a lot feels like trial and error.

Then again, I've played through Awakening like 8 times so it could fatigue? Inigo's lucky he's cute.

22: Your favorite part of Fire Emblem canon that everyone else ignores

Whenever I write a Three Houses fic where two or more characters are eating together (particularly if it's pre-timeskip fic), I do a deep dive into their dining hall likes/dislikes to either find a meal they can both-- or I unearth what turns into a minor plot point inspired by their stark differences. Did you know Ferdinand dislikes a lot of cheesy dishes? Did you know Claude only likes one fish dish and the rest of his favorites are primarily meat dishes? Annette loves seafood!!!

It's easy to center Lysithea around cake, Ferdinand around tea, Hubert around coffee, Dimitri around weeds, etc. But I looooove deep diving into the rest of the food-related meta.

[choose violence ask game!]

[steel-nageyari]

he's green for an amazing reason

[bigifee]

Olivia didn’t get to chose between thot daughter or gay son so she got both

[pezgenial]

do I look like hiiiiim

[pinkprincessia-art]

Day of Devotion alts for my FatesMU (Primrose) and Laslow. I went with a Ylissian theme for them. So He can show her parts of his home land.

[myuumei]

transgender inigo icons, credit to use

[onyxedskies]

"what the hell did you do, tap dance all over the body with ice skates?"

something with inigo

heheheheheheheheh you know how to spoil a guy zorua

pairing: inigo & gerome (hinted inigo/gerome/lucina but can definitely be read platonic)

word count: 585

warnings: gore

Inigo felt sick.

There was blood... everywhere. It was caked under his fingernails, dripping from his hair, staining his clothes. Flesh and bone littered the ground, dismembered bodies everywhere around him. Blood dripped off his sword with chunks of things he didn't want to identify, falling to the ground with a wet plop against the pools that had already been made in the soil.

Somehow, all he could think was that blood made a poor fertilizer.

He stepped away from the sight of the massacre. He flicked his sword, shaking away the worst, before sheathing it mechanically. He gazed skyward, assessing where the sun was in the sky; he likely had time to make it to camp before dark fell.

And so he walked.

There was little else to do, really. He could continue to stand by the desecrated Grimleal soldiers, breathe in the scent of iron and rot, or he could turn to the next thing. Dispose of the bloodied clothes, rinse the red out of his hair, get the chips of bone out from under his fingernails.

Part of him felt bad. The rest of him knew that he had fought wildly, thoughtlessly, trying everything possible in an attempt to survive. He had no doubt he would be in excruciating pain when the adrenaline went down and he came back to himself, but for now, all that truly mattered was that he had survived.

It was kill or be killed, he reminded himself. Instinct cares not about who deserved to live and who deserved to die; he was in a life or death situation, and he chose life.

He could taste rust. He didn't know if he had bit the Grimleal or his tongue. He wasn't sure if it mattered.

Camp came into view eventually. It was just him and Gerome, really; they were the only ones Lucina could afford to send on this mission. For the best, Inigo supposed; he didn't want the others to see him like this.

Gerome was waiting for him, it seemed, for he was poking at the fire when Inigo came into view. He looked up at the sound of his footsteps, visibly stiffening at the sight of Inigo. he couldn't blame him; he knew he made quite a sight.

"What the hell did you do, tap dance all over the body with ice skates?" Gerome asked, his frown tight.

"That would have been kinder to us all," Inigo said. He reached into his pocket, procuring the locket Lucina had sent them after. "I found it."

Gerome's face meant he understood. Lucina had been reluctant to send the two of them alone, but they were the strongest fighters she had on hand with Severa and Kjelle caught in their own mission and Owain helping her defend Ylisstol. She had begged them to be safe, told them to come back alive regardless of the success of the mission, to fail to retrieve the item if it meant they survived.

Inigo had done it alone.

"I'll get food," Gerome said. He stood, his armor creaking; he was still wearing his prosthetic. "You worry about cleaning yourself off."

Inigo nodded. They crossed paths for just a moment, but Gerome put a comforting hand on his shoulder; I'm here, I care, he said without words, without covering himself in gore. Inigo flashed him an empty smile in response, and though Gerome was wearing his mask, he could practically see the furrow of his brows.

It had not been an easy day.