#luck crowned

[phantomarchive]

Adolin Kholin stats aesthetic for @luck-crowned

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[oraculideluna]

Starter for @luck-crowned

☾ - ♕ - ☽ How strange it is that Luna’s heart beats so quickly in her chest at there mere invitation to meet him for lunch and a stroll through Urithiru’s gardens. She has long thought herself incapable of feeling such emotion; after years of being a slave to unhealthy emotions bred through years of captivity, feeling this fluttering in her stomach and pounding in her rib cage feels both exhilarating and terrifying. Is it selfish to feel this way? To like feeling this way? Does it even matter anymore now that their war is won and Luna has no destiny any longer?

This train of thought is not new to her, yet she does not want to think on it now, when she is deciding what to wear. A runner brought the invitation to her since Adolin has meetings in the morning, so she responded with a ‘yes’ while mildly panicking with excitement over the prospect of lunch with him. 

Of course, she tries not to let the elation get the better of her. He is but a few months a bachelor, still hurting, and he is surely not interested in pursuing another just yet, and probably not a foreign queen who is still learning of his people, his kingdom, his country and its history. She is an outsider, and he has so many partners to find here that know and understand far better than she does - or possibly ever will. And while those thoughts are not the most pleasant, they at least sober her enough to remember that she is not a giddy schoolgirl in Tenebrae, but a queen with a diplomatic treaty with Adolin and his people.

And yet...as she approaches the meeting place he’d mentioned in his invite, she feels her heart beating a bit harder again. She hopes she doesn’t look flushed, that her smile is natural and polite. Her life has been spent learning how to control her emotions and not let them show on her face, and though old habits come into play and she wears a carefully crafted expression, she cannot help the way her smile lifts just a touch higher, nor how her eyes light up just a bit more when she sees him.

“Adolin,” she says with an incline of her head as she reaches him. She wears a pale blue dress with simple white embroidery, a white glove on her left hand; her hair is half pulled back into an elegant knot at the back of her head and adorned with beads, while the rest hangs around her shoulders and down her back. It is a simple design, considering the rest of her wardrobe, yet it is comfortable and not too over-the-top for what he has planned.

“Thank you for the invite,” she says, and her eyes linger perhaps a moment too long on his before shifting to watch where she is walking. “I know your schedule is busy, but with me leaving in three days, I was hoping to see certain people again before I go.” Is that too forward to say? Does it imply too heavily that she wanted to see him? She keeps her smile in place, keeping her anxiety tucked deep beneath her mind.

[sugarspun-kros]

@luck-crowned got a starter even though they didn’t ask for one

This world is entirely new, and so entirely outside the realm of anything Enna has encountered before, that for long moments, she stands amidst the plains, booted feet planted on either side of a long, jagged crack in the ground, forefinger bent just beneath her chin, head quirked to one side. Pondering. Large beasts move in the distance, unperturbed by the dry wind blowing harsher than on any other world she’s been to. It feels like it’s scraping her legs as it blows past, pushing her jacket back from her waist. She squints, but isn’t annoyed by the breeze; just curious as she takes in her surroundings.

She has never been here before, doesn’t know what to expect, but ideas are forming in her mind as her gaze focuses on the distant horizon. What sort of beasts could she put on her next world that would look as impressive as the ones before her? How big would they be? What would they eat? Omnivores, maybe? The idea of them is wonderful, but Enna herself has always been partial to a lot more greenery than what she sees here. Plants flowering from dirt. The smell of soil after a storm - and oh can she see a storm far off in the distance. 

“I wonder,” she says to herself, pursing her lips in thought, “what this rain will smell like.” Smells lend to the creations of new worlds just as much as sights, sounds, and textures do, and Enna has found particular enjoyment in what blossoms in the air after a really nice storm. Crossing her ankles, she lowers herself to the ground in one swift movement, and continues to watch the beasts trundle away as she awaits the coming rains.

[triggerdance-archived]

@luck-crowned finally GETS A STARTER BECAUSE IT TOOK TOO LONG FOR MY BRAIN TO WORK. *clears throat* I’m fine.

Setting: post game, Prompto is visiting some timeframe after the ‘final battle’ recovery

          “Man there’s so many AWESOME things to take pictures of here, I’m so happy I’m... Ooh...”

   He paused, studying the figure that stood in proper fashion, leaning up against the wall -- Rather just a few inches from the wall, but they were always so close it was hard to tell. Guards how did they do it? At least he assumed the other was a guard.

      Enough with the figuring, more with the trigger pulling on his camera. He hefted his tool up, quick snapping off a few shots and as he put it down, his cheeks reddened a bit as he realized his actions had caused the other to notice him.

          “Uh... Hi?”

[phantomarchive]

Still living vicariously through hugs for my muses | @luck-crowned​

Lunafreya instinctively bottles up her distress. She's told him as much before, not unaware of her issues in that regard, and he has come to recognize when she's doing so — pushing her feelings down, forcing her shoulders straight, the mask of a Queen slid firmly onto her face. And sometimes that's necessary. But even when it is, she cannot hold it forever. "Come here," he says in a tone that brooks no argument, and steps up to enfold her in his arms. The hug is tight, comforting, /encompassing/, and he can feel the stiff tension in her form all too easily, bound with iron will under porcelain grace, before it begins to crack. "Hey. Shhhh, mmmmmmm, I'm here. Come on; I'm here." 

It is not always a known reason why Luna will begin to shut down emotionally and force herself into the queenly facade she has come to perfect so well since childhood; even, sometimes, she herself does not know. Lingering grief from the loss of her family, usually, striking her when least she expects it, and when Adolin’s arms slip around her and he pulls her close, giving herself room and comfort to let that mask drop and truly feel her emotions, she thinks that may just be true.

She does not resist him, instead allows herself to be enfolded in his arms and chest and the soothing sound of his voice; his heartbeat, so alive and strong. Eyes close as tears begin to flood them, and the pain strikes her as swiftly as it had done years before, when the losses were fresh and she had to learn to live her new reality as the only remaining in her lineage.

An apology for her tears begins to rise to her lips, but she knows he will not accept it, not for something as important as allowing herself to feel what comes to her, so she bites it back, buries her face in his chest, fingers curling into the front of his coat. He is here, he is her sun, her anchor, the light of this new life she has been fortunate enough to find, and he understands her in ways she had never dreamed one ever would. How fortunate that, even in her losses and the scars on her heart, she has found family, friends, love. A different sort of ache pulls at her heart, and a fresh wave of tears spills down her cheeks.

There are no words she can think of, none to do justice to to what has brought about this breakdown, and yet Adolin requests none. Simply holds her, reassures her, and she is so very grateful to him.

[phantomarchive]

@luck-crowned with Seteth because you asked for him

It isn’t often that Seteth trusts the mercenaries, especially with the students at Garreg Mach. The fact that their loyalty can be bought rubs him the wrong way, and he doesn’t much care to think that harm could befall any amongst the number at the Monastery simply due to the basis on which they operate. He is reminded by some of the knights that the mercenaries have enough loyalty to the church to not betray them mid-battle, yet the fear still lingers in Seteth’s mind. How many battles has he seen, has he been a part of, that have ended with betrayal?

In truth? Not many. But enough to keep him concerned.

“I want you to know,” he says to the man before him. Seteth’s shoulders are straight, and his chin is tilted back just a touch, enough that he is looking down his nose at the mercenary. “That I do not condone the knights allowing you to join them on this mission with the students. And you should know that, if anyone is grievously injured because of your actions, swift and severe punishment will be dealt.”

[phantomarchive]

@luck-crowned continued from here!

—  || ♜♛

It takes a bit of time, as well as some enthusiastic help from Vanille in gathering suitable thick-but-supple leather, several handfuls of small, smooth rocks and seeds, and a length of gut for thread, but the result is a ball of a size to fit in the palm of his hand, with extra stitching to reinforce the seams and just enough give to be satisfying under a strong grip.

Adolin chuckles when he sees Lightning looking over as he tests it out, thumb sliding back and forth over the crude, serviceable stitching. He holds the ball up in her direction as if for inspection. “Much as it may not look it, this sort of thing helps me keep my mind focused.” A flick of his wrist sends the ball straight up into the air, whirling with the force of the backspin, and as it falls back into reach he snatches it out of the air with a heavy, satisfying thmp.

“My brother has something similar — a little box, with a top that clicks quietly when you open and close it, and subtle carvings all along the sides that feel different when you run your fingers over them — but he keeps it on him at all times, and people are used to him fiddling with it when he needs.”

Thwak! — the ball smacks into his palm, and he flings it back to the other in a continued, absentminded motion. “I’m a little jealous.” A half-grin quirks over at Lightning, though a touch of genuine regret lingers in his eyes. “It’s not authoritative or princely to fidget around, and I can’t tell you how many times my tutors rapped my knuckles to get me to stop. ‘Rin had a much easier time with them than I did.”

〚 ❣ 〛 Lightning has been subtly eyeing Adolin as he’s been meandering around with Vanille, looking a touch more at ease than she’s seen him since - well, possibly since she met him. Is Pulse closer to what he’s used to at home than what Cocoon is? (She thinks about when they first met and she continuously asserted that he must be from Pulse with the way he spoke; maybe she wasn’t too far off the mark.) She doesn’t say anything, though, figures he knows she’s watching him from that small smirk he flashes when his gaze catches hers.

Each time, she just scoffed and returned back to her own work. Being a soldier means she’d learned a lot about battlefield medicine, and she doesn’t bother with potions on the simple scrapes lining her legs, arms, and the cut across her cheek that’s puckering, pink, and throbbing. She’ll be fine, and if it scars, she doesn’t care.

The sound of a solid thunk against skin draws her attention, and she finally gives Adolin a full look, turning her head while holding a bandage soaked in water against her thigh. A sharp quip is quick to her tongue, but she stops, lips parted to speak, when Adolin mentions his brother, and it feels like so much of what she’s learned about him snaps into sharp focus. Of course. A protective older brother. No wonder he was so defensive over Hope.

She turns her head back to look at the wound on her leg, pulling the bandage back enough to see if it’s stopped bleeding. A soft, knowing smile tugs the corners of her lips. “Younger brother, I take it?” A pause to see if she was right. She and Adolin are more alike than Lightning realized; maybe that’s why they butted heads so much at first. “I get it. I have a younger sister. Serah. Do you-” A dumb question, so she adjusts. “You must miss him.”

[phantomarchive]

@luck-crowned​ wants flowers:

[CHUCKS ADOLIN @ U]

Amaryllis - Pride Aster (China) - Fidelity Camellia (red) - Unpretending excellence Chamomile - Energy in action Edelweiss - Daring, courage Eremurus - Endurance Gladiolus - Strength of character Henbane - For males to attract love from females Mezereon - Desire to please Nasturtium - Conquest, victory in battle Wolfbane - Chivalry, knight

Bonus because you asked for it:

Scottish Thistle - Nobility