#theseventhdawn

[norhimorovine]

@theseventhdawn ran the valentione’s event with me! Nolanel and Norhi are clearly not fated to be together. Likely to their SO’s great relief. ;3

[kukurubean]

rolanberrycheesecake reblogged your photoset “Since even...”

#...is.... is that sastasha #kassem i wub u

theseventhdawn reblogged your photoset “Since even...” 

#jil makin the most of sastasha #the colors are so focused

smdnfbsd IT WASNT SASTASHA BUT THANK YOU!!

it was the ground entrance/cave connected to tamamizu! there’s a pool of water underneath w rocks and coral after you jump all the way down

[therealmtraversed]

@theseventhdawn​ asked: 55 or 17!

I posed 55 here, so here is 17!

17. Your bed after travelling

How many years had it been since Thierre had last slept in his own bed, let alone step in through the doorway to his own home?

It was as if an era had passed, though it had been a mere three maybe four years, and the weight of the moment rested on his shoulders. The phantom smell of meals once cooked by his late mother, and then his own haphazard attempts, wafted through the halls of the manor. The dim lights guided him down the halls, past his study where films of dust covered all that Colele and Sterlingil couldn’t reach. His eyes scanned his surroundings absently, caring little for the lingering décor of the long gone Formell family, but settling on the familiar landmarks of portraits and favoured rooms. A playful smile danced on his lips when he found a berry coloured stain on the hardwood trim.

Warmth emanated from his chambers, his stewards had done well to keep his room lived in for his eventual return. He was greeted not by the musty smell of an abandoned home, but by a meticulously cared for room as if he had never left. He’d have to thank them later.

The weariness set in as he shed all of his layers. His armour and bow fell to the floor as he slid them off, arrows spilling from the quiver. Usually he took better care of his belongings, but by the Fury, he was exhausted. Slowly, carefully, he made his way to the foot of the bed and collapsed into the plush mess of blankets and pillows. As he sunk into his nest, the softness of the bedding enveloping his chilled and war-torn body, he let out a muffled cry of relief.

[naaaaams]

I got @theseventhdawn for the FFXIV Secret Santa event hosted by @aymeric-the-blue. I drew their Elezen, Nolanel Feran, because I love me some noodle elves. ;u; I improvised on his... everything so I hope it’s to your liking! Merry Christmas! \o/

[norhimorovine]

🎄 !

It was another day of research at the Bellworks for Norhi. Naturally the building had been decorated in the seasonal style. And Norhi, being the holiday lover that she was, had been completely on board with the whole thing. 

She’d stepped out of the workshop to go get herself something to snack on. Being a few months with child had brought the beginnings of cravings. Luckily for Norhi, the Bellworks kitchen was stocked for a multitude of diverse personalities. So, finding something that fit her cravings usually wasn’t difficult.

So, it wasn’t long before she was making her way back out of the kitchen with a bowl in hand, having located boiled eggs, chocolate, and a jalapeno pepper. And just as she reached the kitchen door, she nearly bumped into a tall, pale green coat. Or rather, Elliot, in his classic pale green coat. 

Norhi had to crane her head back to smile up at the man, as always. But she’d long gotten used to being so short around here. She noted his baffled glance at her bowl, and then grinned weakly. “Don’t picture it. It won’t go away.”

She then noted the green sprig hanging from the kitchen doorframe. And Elliot had not yet noticed himself. And so, in the seasonal spirit of camaraderie and mischief, Norhi popped up onto her toes and pulled Elliot down by his shoulder. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then bounced around him and back off to work. She laughed, calling back, “Happy Starlight!”

[therealmtraversed]

@theseventhdawn asked: 55 or 17!

I actually did both but here’s 55 for now!

55. Finding old photographs you’d forgotten about

“Watch your step!” The warning was too late, Thierre’s foot grazed the edge of sitting box and he stumbled. Whatever he was carrying had fallen out of his arms, the contents of the packed belongings spilled all over the floor, kicking up whatever dust and dirt that hadn’t yet been swept away. Myath winced as he heard the thud, carefully maneuvering around everything in order to reach him. He put his arm around Thierre’s shoulders and parted the fluffy hair that now covered his eyes. “Are you alright?”

Thierre chuckled and leaned back, examining through blurred vision the mess he had just made. Rather, the mess that compounded with his clumsy bump. “Of course. I suppose now is a good time to look over what we had in that box?” He pat the ground around him and felt a photograph at his fingertips. “Oh!”

Myath began to collect the various photographs around him, some he knew of, some he could tell were much older due to their printing on more primitive medium. “Thierre,” he started, glancing at the contents of the few he had picked up. “if you’re able to, you may want to look at these.”

“Mmm, just a momemt. Let me collect myself.” He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. On the exhale, he opened them once more and the fogginess cleared. First, he looked at the photo he held in his hands. It was nothing spectacular, but the warm feeling of fondness washed over him as he looked at one of his earliest experiments at photography. He never pursued it as a hobby, he was only interested in understanding the workings of it as a process, but this photo contained visible evidence that Ishgard was once green. “What have you found, dear?”

Myath handed him several photos he had been holding, picking up those that remained on the floor. Thierre had shown him some photos in the past, few were scenery, and fewer were portraits. But this box contained many that must not have been exposed to the light of day since the year they were taken, and he found himself captivated by them. While the photos that were taken since their commitment to each other were tucked away safely elsewhere, these were all Thierre’s.

Gingerly, Thierre took the photos that Myath handed to him. They were awkward to shuffle through, some were wrapped in cloth, and all were differently shaped and affixed to various backings. “Oh, this is a portrait of me a year into my service.” Thierre held out the photo for Myath to see. He was young, his hair still a deep red, though it was tamed for the photograph. He stood tall and proud, dressed in a fine set of armour that appeared to have received seen some battle already. Thierre tucked that away after Myath made a comment about his hair, and revealed the next.

“Ah! This is when I became the commander of my unit.” There was a smile with his explanation at first, excitement and pride in his voice. But that faded as he looked at each of the faces in the photograph. “There were… many of us. Quite a few of us yet live, sure. But…” He hesitated a moment, which prompted Myath to lean into him. “I do miss those that are no longer with us. It’s nice to look at them all again.”

This continued for two hours more, the photographs had stories of their taking and explanations of each subject. It was an expensive and timely process, but he was patient enough to own quite a few remnants of the past. It wasn’t until he came across the ones of his mother that he grew tired, but equally delighted in the rediscovery of these treasured relics. Myath was interested in each and every story they held, enamored by his fiancé and fascinated by his past. It was always refreshing when he spoke of it with glee.

As they reached the end of the contents of the spilled box, the golden hues of sunset filtered in through the unfinished window, and they realized just how long they had been sitting on the old, hard floorboards.

[kukurubean]

theseventhdawn reblogged your photoset “Rothe Aubrey, 9 summers old A spiteful misfit who refuses to listen to his cousin.”

#listen fam #we all have the right #to block blonde rothe #from memory

p sure anyone who’s seen him without his red hair is cursed forever so

[kukurubean]

theseventhdawn reblogged your photoset “kukurubean: tell me the story again, of the sparrows who flew from falling rome, their blazed wings. how ruin nested...”

#lselle shows up in the bg#w a flashlight #HEWWO???? ROTHE???? IM WOST #and thats how lselle gets left in mhigan catacombs