#fe class

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Daisies and Haircuts

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Usually, Logan can get a read on everybody. Except, when it comes to you, he can't. So he makes it his mission to find out the truth, but when he does...he doesn't exactly know how to take the news.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff with a bit of angst, some steam towards the end. Descriptions of blood, casualties and aftermath of a tornado. Not Proof Read.

If there was one thing Logan prided himself on, it was being able to tell when people were lying or telling the truth. 

However, from the minute he met you…he didn’t have an explanation for it. 

Most of the time, he could hear people’s heartbeats or their breathing. Both would quicken when they were lying. Even the best liars couldn’t hide from him. 

But there was something about you he just couldn’t shake. Your voice didn’t change or shake, your heartbeat didn’t speed or falter - neither did your breathing. 

And yet he didn’t believe a word you said when it came to you being human. 

Professor Xavier had reached out to you to fill in one of the teaching positions when he met your cousin. And from his knowledge, your entire family was mutant. From grandmother, to grandfather, to cousins, to even siblings. 

And somehow, you were the only human. 

No mutant gene detected. 

And even if his school did have a reputation for having mutant teachers, you were the first human to attend the school in any manner. 

“Logan, if you’re gonna just stand there all day, you might as well offer to help.”

Your back was completely turned to him. You had been writing on the whiteboard for the last five minutes, not once looking anywhere near the door where he was leaning. 

“How did you know it was me?”

You chuckled a little as he walked inside, picking up a pile of books on the way in. “Please, I could smell the cigar smoke.”

Logan shrugged, placing two books at the end of each desk as he made his way to you. “You know, I can scare Storm, Jean- even Scott. But never you. I wonder why that is?”

Logan stood beside you as you turned. He was looking at you like how he always did. A knowing smile (maybe it was a smirk), but a look of wonder and curiosity in his eyes. 

You just smiled up at him. “Logan, I grew up with over twelve cousins. There wasn’t a day when you didn’t have to have eyes in the back of your head, and still at least one kid ended up hurting themselves.”

Walking around him and back to your desk, his eyes followed you. 

“That’s not the only thing.”

“What ‘thing’ exactly?” 

Sometimes it felt like this conversation between you and Logan happened every other day. You had been working at the school for a little over a year, and before that had shadowed for at least six months to understand how to truly help your kids. 

He had been like this since day one. 

Maybe a little more gruffer and scarier in the beginning…he had made you jump just a little when you closed the fridge door and found him standing there with that sceptical, over-protective look on his face. 

“You know what ‘thing’.”

You shook your head. “I really don’t, Logan.”

He walked closer to your desk and leaned his hands against it, coming face to face with you. “You’re a mutant.”

As he was so close, your eyes scanned his face and around his body. “You need a haircut.”

“It’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“I can cut it for you. Just take a little bit off the sides.” 

“Why do you keep avoiding the subject?” Logan asked with a laughing smile as he stood back up. 

“Because you seriously need a haircut, Logan.” You moved your fingers through the top of his hair. “You look like a crazed mountain man who’s just escaped from Frankenstien’s lab.”

Logan stepped away from you during your analogy. “Are you calling me a green monster?”

“Frankenstein is the Doctor.” 

“Huh.”

You shook your head. “Either way, you need a haircut.”

“Fine, but I will get it out of you sooner or later.” 

“Goodbye, Logan.”

Those were Logan’s final words before he left your classroom, but not before taking a final look at you as your head was turned. 

The next time he saw you was just before lunch when a couple of kids were playing a round of football outside. And for a while, Logan’s eyes remained on you as you read your book. It was like the world didn’t exist outside of your book. 

And yet you were tuned in to everything that was happening. 

Logan heard one of the kids shout before the ball went flying past the posts and it was heading straight for you. He could barely finish shouting your name before…

You caught it. 

Without looking up, you had caught the ball in your hands, simply looked up and then threw it back. “Be careful!”

“Sorry!”

Logan was a little in shock as he stood at the top of the stairs, his arms folded across his chest. He’d seen your reflexes a few times before. You had caught plenty of mugs that were about to fall off the side of the counter, just as you walked into the room. You’d also stopped piles of books crashing loudly to the ground, opened windows just as tennis balls came flying at them, as well as catching them and throwing them back. 

And now you had caught a football without even looking up. 

You hadn’t been at the school two years and yet Logan practically had a list tallied in his head of the things that had happened that simply couldn’t just be explained away. 

Could they?

“Oh, come on. Just admit it. You’re a mutant.”

Your lungs were tired of sighing. “Logan. I’m not a mutant.”

“Your entire family has the mutant gene.”

“So,” you shrugged, twisting some pepper into the pot before replacing the cap and setting it on the side. “It skipped me.”

“Your reflexes are barely human.”

“Logan, like I have told you a million times, I grew up around a lot of kids. A lot of mutant kids who had no control over their powers. I had to get good reflexes just to save on the amount we spend on broken windows.”

Logan moved out of your way as you walked across the kitchen, taking a couple of things from the fridge. 

“You never get scared.”

You looked back at him. “Are you calling me brave?”

“Nobody can scare you, Y/n. Last Halloween it was like you knew when someone was hiding around the corner.”

“It was Halloween. Everyone tries to scare each other on Halloween.”

Logan closed his eyes in frustration for a moment. “Not even Halloween. Nobody can scare you. Even today, you knew I was standing by your door.”

Stopping what you were doing, you looked at him. “Logan, when it comes to you, I can smell the cigar smoke a mile away. And, besides growing up in a household where it was normal to try and scare each other, nobody in this school is exactly going to be the next Prima Ballerina.”

Logan’s arm practically shot out. “That’s another thing! Your sense of smell.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is this about the cigar smoke? Are you becoming nose blind to it?”

“You smelt Scott’s burnt breakfast before the rest of us did. You knew when Rogue had changed her shampoo. You even knew Storm had planted some new flowers in the garden.”

You went to open your mouth but Logan cut you off. 

“And don’t say you saw the flowers because you were with me that whole afternoon and didn’t see Storm until after dinner.”

You sighed. “It wasn’t because I saw the flowers. I was going to say I saw the dirt on her hands when she walked inside. Plus, I knew she was looking to plant more flowers in the garden beds.”

Logan leaned forward. “Did you have a conversation about it?”

“About the flowers?”

“Because I don’t remember her telling us when she was going to plant them because she wanted them to be a surprise.”

You shrugged. “The dirt still gave it away.”

Logan shook his head. “That’s another one right there. You know…how do you know what we’re all thinking? I know you’re not reading our minds because if you were, it would be like when the Professor or Jean does it. No…it’s something else.” 

Logan was truly watching you. Studying you. Listening to your heartbeat. Listening to your breathing. 

“I was a psych major. I studied my ass off and read up extra things in my time. It’s not so hard.” You explained to Logan. “Most of the time it’s just body language. And remembering the small things. They go a long way in getting to know who a person is.”

“I don’t think it’s just that. Maybe it’s part of it.” Logan sat up straight. “But that’s not your whole story.”

“Why are you so fixed on my story?”

Except, rather than explain, Logan gave you that smile again and walked towards the door. “You’re the psych major, you figure it out.”

“You still need a haircut!”

And like clockwork, Logan was watching you and then questioning you everyday. He’d done it since day one. 

When would he finally realise you were telling him the truth?

A couple of weeks later, you found yourself inside the Professor’s office with Logan and a potential new student and their parents. 

Only, it soon became clear that as much as their child was finally happy to be somewhere where they didn’t stick out like a sore thumb because of their powers, the parents couldn’t have been more uncomfortable. 

“But what about…what about his mutant…problem?” 

You felt your back become straighter as your feet carried you forward, only to feel a small tug from the bottom of your jumper where Logan’s hand was pulling you back to stand beside him. 

“I can assure you, Harry’s mutation is not a problem.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the three teachers he had quit because of him. You know we can’t even walk down our street without parents judging us for letting their kids' favourite teachers walk out on them.”

Harry seemed to fall into himself. “I already said sorry. I didn’t mean for them to-”

“Harry, it’s quite alright. Sometimes people don’t fully understand what it means to teach a mutant like us. Luckily, we have some of the best teachers right here.”

The father looked at both you and Logan. “These are the best?”

“We have a full staff, however most are teaching right now. Harry, this is Professor Logan. He will be your new History teacher and this is Professor Y/n. She will be teaching you some English, but mostly Social Sciences. She is also our school councillor, so if you ever feel you wish to speak to someone, she is the most qualified for the job.”

Harry gave both you and Logan a small smile. 

He moved into his dorm a week later and started classes almost immediately. 

“Okay, fine. Let me ask you this then.”

Logan hadn’t left you alone all day, so you had finally put him to work. Carrying the pile of books you were pulling from the shelves as you rolled along on the ladder. 

“Why give a human a job of school counsellor in a school filled with mutants?”

“Other than the fact I’m qualified for the job.”

Logan shrugged. “Isn’t it better to put someone into the job who understands what the kid is going through? Rather than just put a diagnosis to it?”

You turned round and he looked up to you. “It doesn’t matter if your human or mutant, everyone has gone through something at some point. Maybe I don’t know what it’s like to be able to walk through walls, or have metal grow out of my knuckles. But I do know what it’s like to feel like an outcast. To feel lost. To feel alone.”

Logan just listened as you slowly turned back and started pulling the desired books from the shelves, adding them to the pile in his arms. 

“I might have gone to a normal school, but everyone knew my family was different. I was too mutant to fit in at school, but too human to fit in with my family. They love me, and I love them. But there were times when topics would come up and…I’d feel alone. Like because I wasn’t one of you, I wouldn’t get it. Eventually, everyone grew up and went on with their lives. Of course it wasn’t easy for them, but they still had each other. Even if every other ignorant asshole pushed them away, they still had each other. But some days it felt like…like I had no one.”

Logan just continued to listen. 

“So, I get your point. What would a human know about being a mutant? But sometimes that’s not the question that needs to be asked.”

A moment of silence passed between you both before finally Logan spoke up. “The kids…they’re lucky to have you.”

“Thank you, Logan.”

“And just so you know,” he added. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Looking down at him, you smiled. “I’m glad.”

Twenty minutes later, you were finished collecting books. Yet, just as Logan laid down the pile, half should have fallen onto the floor. 

Except they didn’t. 

Instead they glided off the top and landed in a semi-neat pile beside him with a soft thud. Logan turned around, shock clear on his face. But you weren’t looking at him, or at the pile. You were closing the doors to the outside balcony on the opposite end of the room. 

“One day,” Logan told himself. “One day.”

“What?”

Logan looked up. “Nothing.”

You just shrugged and walked to stand beside him. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Without looking at him, you flip over the cover of a book in your hands. “You still need a haircut by the way.”

“Don’t mention that, either.”

Two weeks later, as you and Logan were eating lunch together whilst marking some papers, there was a knock at your classroom door. 

Taking a bite of the chicken salad you had made him a bowl of, Logan flipped a paper round and handed it to you. “What does that say? I swear this kid just writes in scribbles.”

You took the page from him. “This is Rogue’s. Isn’t she your little sister or something? Shouldn’t you be fluent in this by now?”

“She’s not my sister. We just came here together. She was a runaway. Found me when I was a cage fighter and stowed away in the back of my trailer.”

Your eyes practically bugged out of your head before you tried your best to hide your smile. “You were a…cage fighter? You? Logan Howlett, as I live and breathe? You sat opposite me with your feet on my desk? You were a cage fighter?”

Logan rolled his eyes with a smile. “Okay, okay. Alright. I get it.”

You shook your head. “I mean, you’ve got the physique for it, I just…” you laughed. “I just never pictured you as a cage fighter. A cage fighter, really?”

“Are you done?”

You bit back another laugh. “I’m-” It came out. “Okay, yes.” You laughed again. “I’m done. Okay, okay,” you breathed through it. “I’m done.”

Logan just gave you a look and raised his eyebrow. 

You nodded with a wide smile. “I’m done. Finished. Promise.”

You even made a cross above your heart. Logan smiled and turned back to marking the papers as you read Rogue’s. 

“What did you picture me as?” 

You hummed a questioned response. 

“You didn’t picture me as a cage fighter.” You held in a laugh. “Stop it.” You tried. “What did you see me as?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. A lumberjack? Bodyguard? A cowboy? Your tags say ‘Army’ but your personality says ‘Macho Man with a Protective Streak’.”

Logan hid his blush well as he turned his head away, the smile on his face not going unnoticed by you. “Alright.”

You loved seeing Logan smile. It wasn’t often he did it, but when he did…you wanted to take a picture. 

Unbeknownst to you, Logan loved it, too. Maybe he wanted to keep up his reputation for how you saw him, as well as for how others saw him. But one thing he was glad of…most of the time when he did smile…it was with you. 

However, as you both shared a laugh, a knock came from your classroom door where you looked to find one of your cousin’s standing by the door. 

“I…there may have been a tiny accident.”

Pulling your own feet from your desk, you sat up and met your cousin half way across your classroom just as Logan pulled his feet from your desk and turned in his chair. 

“Show me.”

Your cousin held out their hand to you. A deep gash was in the middle. 

“Oohhhh kay.” You looked around you. “Logan, open up my top drawer in my desk. There should be some bandages.”

Logan did as you instructed and threw them to you. You caught them and turned back to your cousin. “How did this happen?”

“We were walking through the clearing. I slipped and tried to grab onto a tree branch.”

“And that caused the cut?” You asked as you wrapped their hand.

“Not exactly. I kinda…missed. And grabbed onto a rock instead.”

Logan stood beside you. “You must have found the sharpest rock in the forest.”

He said what you were thinking. 

“How long will it take to heal?”

“That’ll depend.”

“On what?”

“On if you’re thinking about trying to climb the tree again.”

Your cousin panicked. “B-but we weren’t.”

Logan detected a lie. 

“I have known you, your whole life.” You leaned in a little closer. “You need to stop climbing trees after it’s been raining.”

“Okay, fine.”

You took in a small breath. “It should be healed in a couple of hours. Just…wait until it’s dry before you do any more climbing.”

“Thanks, Y/n,”

As your cousin left, Logan remained fixed on his spot as you walked back to your desk. Pointing towards the door your cousin had just walked out from, Logan turned around to you. 

“That was a pretty deep gash. That’ll take more than a couple of hours to heal.”

You looked at Logan for a split second before looking back to the papers in front of you. “It’s part of their mutation. Small things he can heal from, just not as quickly as you. We don’t all have super-healing, Logan.”

Logan gave you a soft smile, but it was still questioning. He walked over to your desk. “But their mutation gives them the ability to control water. Nowhere on their file does it say ‘heal’.”

Your heartbeat jumped. 

Logan leaned up a little from your desk as you looked at him. 

He’d caught you in a lie. 

“Well, it’s not his primary power. My aunt mustn’t have thought it was important.”

Your heartbeat was normal. 

So was your breathing. 

Logan decided to drop it, but it was constantly on his mind. 

Your heartbeat had jumped when he got closer to your desk and mentioned the mutation. 

Either that was the very first lie you had told him, or your mask was slipping. 

For the next two days, Logan practically watched you like a hawk. It was rare his gaze was somewhere else other than you. 

He did question going to the Professor again, but considering he was adamant you weren’t a mutant, Logan considered it wasn’t worth the time. 

He wanted to know why you had lied to him. Or why it was now he’d only just detected it.

However, it was at least another month before he would come to find out the truth. 

“So why are we being called up?”

Scott turned towards the Professor, his arm across his chest. “Because last I checked, aren’t the fire departments meant to help with this kinda thing?”

“Usually, yes. However, we’ve been called personally. There are too many risks for just the average human being.”

A tornado had ripped through a small town, demolishing almost everything. From the brick buildings to houses to even schools. Some people were still trapped under rubble and others were hurt, if not worse. Except, the hospitals could only take so many patients at a time and the nearest hospital was at least two towns away. 

“You’ll be working alongside the departments already stationed there but the main priority is helping people out safely.”

Twenty minutes later, they were headed for the jet. 

And you caught Logan walking down the hall. “Where are you going?”

“There’s been a tornado-”

“In Oklahoma? I saw it on the news.”

“We’re going to help.”

You turned watching Logan walk further down the hall. “Wait, I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why?”

You threw your books into the nearest classroom, letting them softly slide against the desks and into their places. “I can help.”

Logan stopped and looked around. “They’ve already got too many casualties. We’re going because we’re less likely to get hurt.”

You sighed with a look. “Logan, I’ve seen at least half of the casualties. They’re gonna need more than just the X-Men. I can help.”

“Let her go with you, Logan.” The Professor rolled around the corner. “She knows what she’s doing.”

Logan took the Professor’s word for it. “Come on, before they leave without us.”

Passing your room on the way, you grabbed your jacket and a bag from under your bed. Logan looked at you curiously as you shut your bedroom door. 

“Medical supplies.” 

Logan just nodded and placed his hand at the bottom of your back guiding you down the hallway before you both set off running towards the jet. 

Upon landing, everyone got to work. 

Scott and Logan started helping those who were trapped under fallen buildings whilst Storm helped lift most of the rubble away as well as brush away most of the debris from larger areas. 

Jean began setting up medical areas for people to be treated and seen to, and you helped her. 

Thirty minutes later, you heard shouting. 

It was a kid. 

“Help! Please!”

Turning around, you yelled for Logan and he came running. 

“Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s my leg. I-I’m stuck. Please.”

“Okay, just stay calm. Logan help me lift it.”

Before Logan could even touch the wooden boards holding the kid down, the last half of the house shook. 

“Okay,” you looked from the house to Logan. “We have to move. Quickly.”

From the count of three, you and Logan lifted the boards from the kid, except, as Logan helped the kid out, the rest of the house began to fall. 

“Watch out!” A could firemen shouted. 

Logan barely had time to react, covering the kid with his body, waiting for the impact of the house. Except it never came. 

Slowly opening his eyes, Logan was met with a semi bright light of blue and when he turned around, he was more than shocked at what he saw. 

Coming from you was a safety barrier. The house had fallen but it had fallen onto whatever blue dome you had created. 

Despite the fact you had stopped the house from falling on yourself, Logan and the kid, there was a sting inside of you. How Logan was looking at you…pure shock and hurt…that stung you to your core. 

“Get the kid out of here.”

Logan slowly jolted back into action, pulling the kid out as you turned around and pushed the house back and up before lifting it to a safe distance away from the rest of the people. 

And Logan just watched you. 

“Thank you, sir.”

Logan looked around for the voice after a moment, realising the kid was still beside him. “No worries, kid. How’s the leg? Think you can stand on your own?”

The kid nodded before looking down and paleing. “It’s bleeding.”

“Whoa, hey, okay. Take it easy.”

Logan helped him sit down on a cinderblock just as you got to his side. “Let me see.”

The kid slowly lifted his leg. “I don’t like blood.”

You knelt down and examined his leg. “It’s okay, buddy. Just close your eyes so you don’t have to look.”

“What are you gonna do?” 

You looked at Logan who was all manners of concern, confused and intrigued. 

Looking from him without answering, you allowed your hands to slowly ghost over the kids legs. Before his eyes, a blue light emitted from your palm and slowly healed the cuts on the kid's leg.  

“Okay, you’re all sorted buddy.”

The kid opened his eyes and looked at his leg. The blood stains were still there, but the cuts weren’t.

“Thank you.”

“Do you know if there are any other kids around here?”

The kid pointed you in the direction of where a couple other houses had been standing only the day before and you and Logan went back to work. 

Over the next couple of hours, Logan’s gaze towards you had gone from shock to confusion to anger. 

You had lied to him. 

Not only that, you had lied to all of them. 

“Did you know?” Jean asked, standing beside Logan as he watched you with a little girl who had been crying. From nothing, you conjured up some daisies and whisked it into a flower crown for her hair. Logan’s heart was warm at the sight. The girl had gone from red and puffy eyed to smiling and hugging you. 

Then he remembered. 

“No. I didn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t she tell us? Why lie?”

“I don’t know.”

The girl almost skipped away from you and towards some of her friends she had spotted. You were still crouched down and as you turned, you spotted Logan and Jean. 

One moment of eye contact with you and Logan started walking away in the opposite direction. 

Jean watched as he walked away and you lowered your head, standing and looking around to see if anyone else needed help. 

A firewoman approached you and asked you for help moving some old pieces of the school building. 

When you returned an hour later, the only person you could find was Storm. 

“Those were some pretty cool things you did earlier. My only question is, why not tell people about it?”

You looked at Storm as you helped her hand out small baskets of food for people. “Easier to keep to myself.”

“You know, the first day the Professor told me about you, he said you were something else. I thought it was just because you were the only human in your family. But clearly he saw something else.”

“I’m sorry, for not telling you all.”

Storm shook her head. “You never had an obligation to. It’s your life, Y/n. You get to decide how much you share with the world.”

You sighed, spotting Logan helping a couple of people out by the broken swings in the park. “I wish others could see it like that.”

Storm nudged your shoulder. “He’ll come around. He’s like a walking lie detector. He’ll be more mad at himself for not figuring it out.”

You gave Storm a thanking smile before going back to handing out supplies. 

By nightfall, most things had been cleared up and the hospitals were less packed with patients thanks to yourself and Jean. 

On the ride back you could practically feel the anger radiating from Logan. He would barely look at you. Jean and Storm seemed to be the only ones not pissed at you for not telling them. 

By the time you landed, Logan was the first off the jet, his feet heavy against the stairs as he made his way back into the school. 

“Is there anything else we should know, or do you have more lies stuffed up your sleeves?”

“Scott.” Jean warned. 

“What? You can’t tell me you’re not pissed that she’s lied to us.”

“Scott, she didn’t have to tell us if she didn’t want to.” Storm told him. 

“Still would have been nice to know.”

As Scott walked away, Jean touched your arm. “I’ll deal with him. He’s just hurt, he wasn't the first to find out.”

“How come you two aren’t mad at me?”

Storm and Jean looked at you with a faint smile on their faces. “The power you displayed today…we know what it’s like to want to hide that.”

“And we also know what it’s like to want to keep a secret. You didn’t have to share that part of your story with us, but you did because you wanted to help someone. No one can be mad at you for that.”

“Thanks, guys.”

Jean and Storm smiled as they hugged you. “Anytime. But this does mean you are making us all flower crowns. I wonder if we can get Logan to wear one?”

The three of you walked side by side back into the school. “He needs a haircut, first.”

The next day, you found yourself in the Professor’s office, the rest of the team already there.

And Logan didn’t seem any calmer. 

Just eerily quiet as he watched you from the window, walking inside and standing in the middle of the room. 

“I understand there is something you may need to share with the class?” 

You nodded. “I guess you saw it on the news?”

The Professor nodded, but he didn’t seem mad. “That, and Scott was the first to come and see me this morning.”

You looked at Scott but he just scoffed. “They have a right to know we’ve got Class 4 mutant-”

“Class 5,” you corrected. 

They all turned and looked at you with shock. Logan just stood, his arms still across his chest. 

But the Professor smiled. 

“It seems we have quite a lot to discuss. Everyone, please excuse myself and Y/n.”

Slowly, albeit reluctantly, they all left one by one. 

Your eyes followed Logan but he didn’t look at you. 

With your eyes still on the door he’d just closed, the Professor rounded his desk. “He’ll come to his senses. They all will. Please, have a seat.”

Logan didn’t see or hear from you or the Professor in over three hours. And by the time dinner rolled around, the only person he did see was the Professor. 

“Where is she?”

“Gone.”

Logan nearly shot out of his seat as he looked from the library window to the Professor. “Gone? Where-”

“Relax, Logan. She’ll be back soon enough. I told her it was best if she went and got a little fresh air. You could use some, too. Your brooding is practically stinking this place out.”

Logan fell back into his chair. “She still lied.”

“And she had good reason, too.”

Logan looked back to the Professor. “She comes from an entire family of mutants, Logan. Her childhood was spent being surrounded by those trying to manipulate powers to be something greater than they already were. If she had shown who she truly was, I fear she wouldn’t have become the person she is today. Her family, for as much as they care for her…half of them would have wanted her to stay and have her powers trained into something for their own gain. The other half would have shipped her off to hide out in a country, alone for the rest of her life. They would have been frightened of her, Logan.”

“But why lie to us?”

The Professor sighed. “Logan, if you had spent your entire life being one thing, how long do you think it would take before you feel comfortable and safe enough to share a whole other side of you to someone?”

Logan was silent for a minute. “She said she’s a Class 5.”

Charles picked up the hidden question behind Logan’s statement. “I’ve read her mind, Logan. She’s not like Jean. She’s in full control. Always has been.”

The Professor waited for a couple of minutes. “I know you care for her, Logan. Try and find a way to forgive her for not telling you sooner.”

He made it to the door before looking back at Logan. “Maybe take a walk. It might clear your head. I hear Ororo planted some Evening Primrose. They should be opening up soon.”

With that, the Professor left. 

And somehow, ten minutes later, Logan found himself taking the Professor’s advice. 

Zipping up his hoodie, Logan placed his hands into his pockets as he walked down the steps towards the gardens. It was still a little warm but there was still that hint of chill in the air that let him know Fall would be closing in soon. 

As time passed, Logan felt his mind working around the idea of you and the things you had told him, or rather hadn’t told him. 

And the Professor was right. 

The primroses had begun to open. 

Logan had never really understood why people would watch flowers or do anything with them other than plant them and pull out the weeds a few months later. But as he was contemplating about flowers and why these off all things the Professor told him to look at, he looked up and spotted you. 

You were sitting on an old swinging bench, watching the water softly ripple under the moonlight. 

Logan watched you for a moment. You were calm. You weren’t writing or scribbling in a classroom, you weren’t buzzing around the kitchen or the hallways. 

You were sat, alone, letting your mind concentrate on nothing but the constant movement of the water and the stars in the sky. 

After a few moments, Logan noticed the soft blue glow by the ground around the water. Within a second, he watched as daisy’s and some other wildflowers started to push up from the ground. All the while, a blue wisp, almost like glitter, circled around them and then died away. 

Then stems of grass began to lift before they stretched into what Logan figured out to be lilypads as they glided down onto the water. 

“Figured you’d kicked down a few trees by now.” 

Logan turned and looked back at you. Of course you knew he was there. 

“Trust me, I thought about it.”

Slowly, Logan started walking towards you. 

More flowers grew by the water's edge. 

“You should open your own flower shop.”

You smiled a little. “Would you believe me if I told you I was allergic?”

“I don’t know. Is it the truth?”

You looked up at him. “You tell me.”

Logan could hear your heartbeat. 

And he could hear your breath. 

Both steady. 

“I’m not hiding anything else from you, Logan,” you assured him. 

Logan just raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue as he moved to sit beside you. “Hard to tell these days.”

“I know you wanted to know but it was easier to keep it hidden.”

Logan nodded. “The Professor explained it to me. But everything you said in the library…”

“I was living a normal life, Logan. To my family I am human. To everyone else I was the only human in a mutant family. What I said to you that night…I meant it. I know what it’s like to be alone and to feel lost.”

“And now?”

You shrugged a little. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On you.” Logan looked at you. You turned in your seat and looked back at the water, your fingers picking at your own hands. “And Scott. And the others. The Professor wants me to stay on, but I don’t know if I can-”

“You should stay.”

You looked back at Logan. 

“You should stay,” he repeated. “The kids…they love you. Besides, who else is gonna be able to read Rogue’s handwriting.”

“What about the others?”

Logan gave a slight nod. “They’ll come around. Scott will come around. Jean will see to that.”

“And what about you?”

Logan didn’t know what to say. 

“I care about you, Logan. I don’t know if I could carry on working here knowing you hate me for lying to you. Even worse…not being able to trust me. I am sorry for not telling you the truth, but I hope one day you can see why I did.”

“I think the Professor explained most of it.” Logan told you. “And I get why you didn’t tell us. It still hurts, but I get it.”

Your gaze fell on Logan’s face as he watched the forest come alive under the stars. 

“I care about you, too.” 

Finally, Logan’s gaze held onto yours. 

Part of you was held in suspense for when he would look away. Your heart braced itself for him to turn away. For him to say something your heart didn’t want to hear and for him to leave. 

As Logan looked at you, your heartbeat was like an echo of his own. Faint in the background, drowned out by his own rushing through his ears. 

“Promise me…” Logan tried to find his words as his own hand found yours on the bench. “Promise me you’ll keep talking to me. That you’ll tell me things. That you won’t have any more secrets with me? Good or bad…I want to know them.”

You nodded. “I promise. So long as you promise me something, too.”

Logan gave a slight smile. “Don’t think you’re in the right area to ask for promises jus-”

You sat up and turned your body towards him, your hands enveloping his hand. Logan remained silent the minute he saw your relaxed smile. 

“Promise me you’ll talk to me, too. And that you won’t try and hide your smile from me.”

Your hand grazed Logan’s cheek and he practically smiled into it. 

“I like seeing your smile.” 

Logan smiled. “I like seeing yours, too.”

With his elbow propped up against the back of the bench, his fingers slowly brushed your loose hair from your face to behind your ears and down your neck. Logan turned his head for a moment, his other hand coming to hold yours against him before he pressed a kiss to your palm. 

From there, he simply placed your hand over his heart. 

And you smiled. 

His heart calmed at your touch, and he could hear yours. 

With a soft smile that was very quickly turning into a smirk, Logan leaned forward, holding you steady before he finally kissed you. 

He wouldn’t notice until the next day but the wildflowers that bloomed by the waters edge, just as he kissed you, dug their roots permanently. Even when questioned why they could grow so close to the water without any other explanation than it being a fluke, Logan knew the truth. 

And it anyone was to question their origins and their symbolism: Eternal Love

It might finally provide an explanation. 

Pulling back to catch his breath, he heard you let out a small laugh. 

“What?”

“You seriously need a haircut.”

Logan groaned. “Still?”

“Just a little.”

A few weeks later, Logan found himself being pushed into a chair in his room as you wrapped a towel over his shoulders and pulled out a pair of hairdresser scissors and a comb. 

“You know, you could have just asked to cut my hair. You didn’t have to trick me into it.”

“Logan, I have been asking you for months. Be lucky I didn’t ask Hank to knock you out and drag you here.”

“Do you even know how to cut hair?”

You started the first couple of snips. “One of the first things I learned to do. Besides learning how to cook. People can only take so many bowl cuts and parsnip soup from Great-Aunt Vi.”

Logan smirked. “Sounds delicious.”

“Sure, if you love parsnip water with cabbage.”

You moved around to stand in front of Logan, his legs opening for you to step into them. It wasn’t long before his hands found your hips. 

Your heart jumped a little. 

“Stop it.”

Logan looked at you innocently enough. “I’m not doing anything.”

His hands glided a little higher before you whacked his knuckles with your comb. He tried his best to hold back his smirk. 

“Tease.”

It was your turn to hold back your reaction. “I’m trying to cut your hair. Distractions don’t help.”

“Don’t look distracted to me.”

You smirked a little, continuing to comb through and cut his hair. “Believe me, I’m plenty distracted.”

Logan chuckled and his hands moved back down to your hips before making repetitive strokes up and down your thighs and back to your hips. 

Time passed slowly, albeit calmly. 

“Okay, all done.”

You held a mirror in front of him. “What’d you think?”

Logan nodded before pushing the mirror down and pulling you closer to him before you found yourself sitting in his lap. “It’s nice, but I think I prefer this view.”

You blushed before kissing him, his hand raking through your hair, his breath pulling you closer. 

It wasn’t long before you were straddling his lap, his hands holding you steady by your ass and thighs. 

“Shouldn’t we,” Logan kissed you. “Be getting ready,” He kissed you again. “For dinner?”

“Good thing it starts at seven.”

You giggled a little as Logan smiled before his lips made their way down your jaw line and down your neck. Your own arms wrapped around his neck as you rocked forward on him a little, a groan coming from the back of his throat. 

“That’s in an hour.”

“Gives us plenty of time then.”

You smiled. “To do what?”

A small gasp came from you as Logan stood up with you, your legs wrapping around him. “To get ready.”

With a suggestive eyebrow raise and a small bite of his lip, you let out a small laugh before kissing him again, his chuckle vibrating against your lips as he walked you towards the en-suit bathroom. 

A small wisp of blue turned on the shower, letting the water heat up, all the while Logan set you down on the sink counter, the blue wisp locking the door, and him slowly removing your clothes before his lips left a trail in their wake, your own hands working to remove his clothes. 

By a stroke of luck, neither of you were late to dinner (this time) but there wasn’t much time left for drying your hair. Logan was still towel drying his before you both reached the dining room. 

“I see someone finally got a haircut.” 

Hank was dishing out mashed potatoes onto each plate. 

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh. honey.” Your hand pressed against Logan’s chest before you kissed his lips. “It was.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining afterwards.” Logan mumbled to you through a smirk.

You blushed brightly. Logan’s smirk prominent on his face,  his hand trained down your back and over your ass before coming to pull you in by your hips. 

Soon, everyone else piled into the dining room, you all finding your designated seats. With Logan’s beside yours, his hand remained on your upper thigh for most of the meal. 

However, no one seemed to notice that with each squeeze Logan gave you, a small row of daisies planted themselves outside, just below the windowsill. 

[cryptid-quill]

new colorfes cards made me rise from the dead, I give art of gay people as offerings

[uraniadoesstuff]

Dark Flyer Edelgard

[littledashdraws]

custom classes for flora! sorcerer, dark knight, troubadour

[asphodelis]

ladposting :)

[symoca]

[zefirart]

Happy 2nd anniversary Fire Emblem Engage!

[thissilverfish]

[robboyu]

fire emblem: awakening (oil on canvas)

[emily-mooon]

I had plans to bring back the ST fire emblem au but all I finished was two portrait shots of Mike and Will before my brain decided to move on to other things

[emblemxeno]

I think the thing that really bugs me when people talk about "3H is so much better than Fates in terms of grey morality"... is that it only focuses on a very specific subset of greyness as a whole. When you actually take a step back from the perspective the game shows you, it's actually not morally complex in the slightest, especially compared to Fates.

For Fódlan, you're introduced to a fundamentally broken system that thrives off of eugenicist breeding, abuse, tyranny, technological stagnation, religious dogma, theocracy and experimentation that saw a young girl watch her fellow test subjects almost all die having Crests implanted into them just to create a superhuman. Said theocracy is staved by a consummate liar who's basically "Corrin, but gone wrong and a terrible human being" with an inability to let go of severe mommy issues or the ability to let go of her hatred and genocide denialism, intentionally keeping up a lie to make the most of it. Said subject leader ended up wanting to cast down the oppressive system to make one of "merit," but becomes an imperialistic, authoritarian revanchist who stages a war of total conquest to enforce that order, and in her ending, doesn't even fully dismantle the titles of nobility outright. Dimitri was genuinely a decent person before the massacre that killed most of his family and almost everyone he loved, causing him to go under severe psychosis that, when unraveled, causes him to turn into a bloodlusted maniacal tyrant who's more in line with Ashnard from FE9 than the typical "good boy lord" archetype since Marth. The least horrible of the bunch is a neoliberal schemer who sides with the strongest side (in VW it's the Church, in GW it's against the church) who can and does show a willingness to drop his interests like a hot potato when it suits him and openly intended to have Almyra invade Fódlan to establish the continent as his own suzerain state. And each of them, if not held back by the sheer divine grace of Byleth's mute ass, ends up committing tons of atrocities in the opposition to manipulate the audience into thinking they chose the "right" side. Hell, even in YOUR route it's strongly implied you're doing the things in the other routes and the story just doesn't want you to consider it because you're the good guy from your POV.

They're all awful and war criminals, and no matter what people say, that isn't moral greyness or moral complexity. Having a story where there isn't a clearly-defined sense of right and wrong, good and bad, to define morally grey conflict as a whole leads to a story where they're all horribly awful if the story isn't smart enough to recognize it doesn't fully absolve them as a person for your actions nor does it dehumanize them. People set a 0-100 scale that's never in the middle assuming a war criminal is either a goodest boy who did no wrong or a violent monster who needs to be put down and not made excuses for it, when the truth is that people are far more complicated than they seem on the wholesale. 3H doesn't do this, it wants you to think your side is always the good guys and the enemy side is sympathetic but still the bad guys. And it does this to avoid pushing forward the truth that you're genuinely no better and that the story is openly feeding you an extremely impressionistic lie of events. This is where any moral greyness falls apart, as without any kind of acknowledgement of your side's failings in a morally grey conflict, there is no hope of making a story that's actually morally grey. You created "hero defeats woobie villain" type story-writing, just slapped a coat of paint calling it morally grey when it isn't.

To give a contrast, Fates goes out of its way to avoid ignoring the actions and consequences of Corrin's choices. All of the routes have players make choices that cause a severe lapse of judgement that leads to bloodshed on both sides and innocent people on both sides dying. On Birthright, you're intentionally invoked ludonarrative dissonance by Corrin in that route being loud and aggressive of killing Garon and not questioning the "good kingdom vs. evil empire" conflict... with not only Corrin not even trying to stymie the bloodshed, but the abundance of route maps and killing waves upon waves of enemies influences that bloodshed and is meant to make players question their actions even as they kill recruitable, named soldiers on the other side. Even Ryoma, by openly lying to Corrin about not about being blood related, is more morally complex because he did so in order to keep Corrin and his family together and because it's essential data, nevermind that Ryoma is strongly implied to know Nohr is starving and just... do nothing about it, feigning ignorance with Silas's explanation in Birthright Chapter 23. Even as far as Corrin being a genuinely good person, they still kill thousands in-story and they don't really care about who lives and who dies as long as it's not their Nohrian siblings, and this leads to Xander accidentally killing Elise and then committing suicide by cop. All while Corrin teaches Ryoma to change as a better person.

Conquest is even more morally complex and grey; Corrin goes back to Nohr with the inability to betray the only family they've ever known and try to end this madness internally, before realizing the privilege they commanded as a Nohrian royal and tried to sabotage the Nohrian war effort and work in any kind of change. He succeeded in ensuring no casualties in small skirmishes, but he failed miserably trying to ensure no deaths in Cheve as it suddenly made them realize the rot is far too institutional for them to fully reform; Garon is a flesh-puppet piloted by Anankos with no regard for anything but destroying both kingdoms, his two trusted men are evil, and the Nohrian royals are deep in denial their father who was once loving and kind has become rotten and abusive and caused so much trauma they don't want to even acknowledge he's been gone for so long. It's a frightening realistic depiction of an abusive household with how the Nohrian royals self-rationalize their control over a fundamentally fucked-up situation, and Corrin begins to see that when Azura reveals Garon's true form. Knowing that the Yato as is isn't strong enough to pierce Garon's blessing from the Rainbow Sage and actually defeat them (which is strongly implied if not all-but-confirmed to operate similarly to Ashnard and BK's blessings in FE9), they need to show Garon's true form to the army... so they intentionally and knowingly abet the genocidal invasion of Hoshido, needing to sacrifice his ideals to save as many people as he can in the least horrible, fucked-up way possible. Along the way while they save a few thousands die in the invasion and Corrin ends up seriously mentally breaking up along the way as he's forced to nearly kill his two brothers and become demonized by the nation he's putting to the sword for the greater good, as he's forced to keep up the lie of a heartless invader until it just... becomes too much. And this is the route people have the most issues with, despite being the route that is so fucking complex that it gives everyone the moral sympathy needed to be empathized with, while not excusing their actions.

What Fates does exceedingly well that 3H doesn't is that it recognizes that the characters' choices are their own actions, and expects readers to pay attention to dialogue to connect fundamental revelations of the plot. It doesn't need to make its characters morally hazy-feely or war criminals with fundamentally unsympathetic traits to make them morally complex, it does this by having the fundamental concept behind Fates is two forces of good people being trapped in a fundamentally violent and horrible war that threatens to tear the continent apart in the process. And Fates does that so exceptionally well by having actual moral complexity to the characters that merits reasons to go down each of the routes while not being so non-committal to calling out injustice or bad actions in the story that it completely destroys any point it has. With Fates, I get the feeling of two families and armies of good people trapped in a war that's engineered by a broken god wanting to destroy the world and both kingdoms. With 3H, I get the feeling many people in Syria felt about each of the factions being staffed with war criminals, rapists and mass-murderers. I can sympathize with all sides of Fates because it recognizes their actions as they are while not diluting their complexity as characters. I cannot sympathize with 3H's lords because they are all so solely-defined by their end slates that no amount of blood, violence or suffering will ever be enough to end the war and them crossing lines even Ryoma would never, ever do. Ryoma, as in the guy who runs basically Fates's equivalent of the Ninja CIA with all the ugliness it implies. Even he wouldn't do what Edlegard, Rhea and Dimitri stoop to in their oppositional and player routes, and while the story humanizes Ryoma, it just expects us to love 3H's blorbos so much we just begin making jokes about how war crimes are "expected" of the series and we should still forgive them because... the story presents it better?

It's a major reason the shitting on Fates's story while lofting 3H as the better one irritates me so much; Fates had an actual writer who was committed to the greater narrative and nuances of the characters that got botched in the implementation of the JP script (which was why IF was even more panned there than Fates was here, which has regular appreciators outside of hardcore FE fans) and got fixed in the localization (despite its flaws), while 3H expects people to just believe they're the good guys without actually thinking about what their actions entails or making consequences stick. And I think it's most infuriating because the reason why people got so weird about Fates, especially Conquest, is because it was so willing to make the player feel uncomfortable with their actions and provoke intentional dissonance in their actions of being rewarded for the right inputs as a Good Gamer™ versus the very visible suffering it causes, and it not saying to the camera "And That's Terrible" and expecting it to be evident within the context and subtext of the work. For many people, it wasn't, and gave such a bad first impression regardless of the sheer cohesive validity of the work that they just wrote it off and dismissed an amazing story as too little value to actually analyze. Meanwhile, 3H's logos, ethos and pathos follow-through sucked ass, but people forgave it because of the lore boner people had and because, when you break it down, 3H is no different than the "good guy vs. evil empire" stories the fandom derides, it just does so in a way that makes those your route deems "evil" sympathetic even when they really aren't. It was so telling that when FE fans said "We want grey morality!" what they really meant was "We want to be morally, objectively correct and rewarded for being a Good Gamer™ while the enemy army has a sob story that makes them sympathetic while still morally, objectively wrong!". In hindsight, it's not hard to see why, Arvis, Lyon and BK are the series's most popular villains, but it's not good writing to apply that to a story about war criminals while thinking sob stories serve as a sufficient excuse to unconscionable atrocities, because FE fans don't want to feel responsible for their actions. They're literally the kind of people Spec Ops: The Line critiques about the typical military FPS dudebro wanting to feel like a hero for being a war criminal, only implied to an intelligence ego-driven bunch of virgin nerds who cannot agree on basic fucking canon details.

...this was a really long ask, so I'll TL;DR it with "FE fans are bad at media analysis and really should stop calling 3H better written than Fates when 3H refuses to actually analyze its own context while Fates does so extensively in giving each of the cast initiative, including for their own fuck-ups."

While I will push back a little against some of the assertions regarding Rhea and Claude (and also Dimitri somewhat) given their circumstances of being the ones on the defense in 3H, I vehemently agree with your assessment, and that's why 3H in general falls flat for me in its storytelling.

Fates, as you say, has intentional dissonance that makes you question your actions when provided with more information the further you get into the game. 3H's dissonance just reads very unintentional.

Edelgard's entire route is obvious low hanging fruit, especially the scene where she executes Dimitri, accusing him of "being obsessed with her" when she's invading his country for no fucking reason other than wanting to enforce her will on independent countries. Instead of going to therapy, she decided to kill a bunch of people, she's nuts and will never not be a shit person.

But to your point, there are other lines in 3H that read similarly ridiculous, fanning the dissonance.

Edelgard and Claude's lines to Kostas in chapter 2 about "being noble and commoner isn't different and you don't have the right to kill actually", and they both sound like immature fuckwads. Claude's consistent push to pry information out of people is insensitive at best, and borders on invasion of privacy. Claude constantly both sides-ing the church and Edelgard, and that's not even going into the shit he pulls in Hopes. Dimitri both sides-ing the dynamic of nobles getting rid of their successors for not having crests. Dimitri constantly trying to find the best in Edelgard after he begins his recovery, to the point where an unbelieveable parley scene occurs, like give me a break. Rhea is never able to confront her issues and mistakes on screen unless she's dying or being romanced by Byleth. Sylvain's "battle of ideals" line in Azure Moon, Dorothea being sad over Ferdie in AM or VW despite him being kind of a coward in that he doesn't have the stones to bite back at Edelgard, Mercedes also has a line about Ferdinand, in general just the entire spiel that side characters make about fighting old friends because "there's no choice."

Does this cast have any self awareness or agency, or not? That's why I rail against Byleth's presence in the plot so much, because he's treated as the end all be all of what is right/moral/correct. Sure, characters can feel bad about what they're doing, but because Byleth (i.e. the player) is there, they must be on the right path in the end. And everyone has to be sypmathetic when you're against them because there has to be room for Byleth (i.e. the player) to have enough reason to join them in another route, otherwise the multi route structure doesn't make sense.

In concept it's already a story structure that warps itself around what makes the player insert feel most good, but in execution it's somehow even worse. And that's because all of it is done in dialogue, many lines of which I've already mentioned. You're not supposed to think about the material reality of the shitty things these characters do and say, because the priority is that they can tug at your heart enough for you to excuse them/fix them/justify them.

Claude is ultimately not a bad person as a whole, but the game really wants you to not consider how feckless and fickle he can be when faced with bad odds, especially when he kind of effectively abandons an entire country that he's supposed to be leading whenever Byleth's not supporting him. Rhea and Dimitri are snug fit into either "crazed opposition that must be taken care of" or "person project that You need to get a handle on", both interpretations taking agency away from making the player seem like a bad person or going in the opposite direction by making the player the ONLY person who's able to save them from themselves. And Edelgard is the queen of never being held to account the damage that she does, always skirting responsibility in-game and in the fandom because "she just did what she felt she had to," "sometimes change takes sacrifice and horrible choices," or "she just wanted to WALK with you, sensei!" All in an attempt to get you to not care what you do when siding with her, and to make you feel bad for her when you don't side with her.

The player must never feel bad about the objectively bad things they do, and must always feel correct and justified in the things they feel are correct. That's the 3H M.O. When you recognize that the people you side with are kinda shitty no matter the route, it's not because the writers wanted you to, it's because you put the time in the think about it long enough. The game wanted you to feel bad about the war because "we used to be FRIENDS", not because of the terrible things you do in the war in the first place, as if the methods and machinations aren't a significant part of why warfare fucking sucks.

And as you say, and I mostly agree on, is the Fates M.O. is not shying away from the negative impacts that Corrin's choice had. In Birthright, Corrin's close Nohrian allies/siblings die because of the choice he made, because siding with Hoshido had a ripple effect on how those near and dear to him were treated by Garon. Another part of Birthright's narrative is the Hoshidan cast having to get used to Corrin just being himself, and trusting that a Nohrian isn't who they believe them to be. Exposing Ryoma's ignorance and showing that his arrogant juggernaut plans aren't gonna cut it when it comes to establishing a lasting peace, is critical in showing that, yeah, mindlessly fighting Nohr doesn't fix the root problems. It intentionally pulls the rug under the player by going "yeah your side kind of fucking sucks for charging at Nohr all this time, when these are people with dreams, loved ones and livelihoods."

Conquest puts a twist on this, by having Corrin be relatively successful in some areas when it comes to changing perceptions towards Nohr, helping people gain autonomy from a brutal regime, and actively undermining the horrible things that war has its soldiers do. The rug pull is then done during chapter 13, and again after the Sakura map, where Corrin is smacked with the reality that sometimes you fucking fail at what you're trying to do in story, despite the player succeeding in gameplay. The player representative doesn't have complete control nor is he treated with kid gloves in Fates when faced with the ugliness from his side and the opposition.

And what's greatest about it, is that it's showing you, rather than employing a missable dialogue in a monastery about how sad it is to fight against former classmates. Dude, I know it's sad, is that really all you can say? The message begins to dull when it's bashed over your head too much, and especially when there's no meaningful impact in story, all because there can't be because Byleth (the player) has to be accounted for as the ultimate arbiter of who joins him or not. You can't avoid feeling shitty about Scarlet, like you can with Ferdie. You can try your best trying to get around the retainers in Fates when you fight them, but they still have crushing death lines because the story is written to accommodate the fact that you're killing people who aren't evil at their core. 3H has to make sure you can avoid that before a war even starts. Flora and Ryoma's suicides, Xander's suicide-by-cop, Takumi's descent, the fates of the Kitsune and Wolfskin who were caught in bad circumstances (something that, despite claims of poor writing, happens all the fucking time and is another shitty thing about war that more need to recognize); the topics of isolationism, war profiteering, subterfuge and treason, spy networks and thievery, the ethics of bystanderism, FUCKING CIVILIAN CASUALTIES.

That last one-alongside the general idea of trying to win a war with as little bloodshed as possible-is one of the prime driving forces of an ENTIRE ROUTE in Fates, and is still pretty prevalent for Corrin's beliefs in the other two. In 3H? Barely a footnote in all honesty, and more so an extension of how other characters are perceived. Edelgard forcing civilians to stay when Enbarr is under siege? Claude says "it takes some resolve, I gotta hand it to her." Remire being destroyed and the Empire doing fuck all? Uhhh, look over there, they got taken in by Rhea, don't worry about it. What about the effects of the Alliance being dismantled and given to the Empire, Kingdom or the church? Or showing more of the people in the monastery town that face the most danger from the Imperial invasion or the thieves after the timeskip? None of this is treated as the horrific circumstance it is, so it ends up as fridge horror you think about at 2 a.m.

Thinking about how the war affects the common people and civilians isn't the main priority in any of 3H's routes as far as I can remember, since it's just lumped in with the vague "too much bloodshed, doesn't war suck" aesop. We never dive into the specifics of why war sucks in 3H because doing that has the potential for the player to materially feel bad about what they're doing, so instead we always have a cushion to assuage our feelings in by being reminded that Byleth (the player) is the pinnacle of good and always knows the right thing to do in the end. Which is shallow, vapid, and utterly spineless in a simulation game series about war.

A lot of this is fueled by my anti-3H though, so I'm very willing to take corrections on things I flat out get wrong, I haven't played that game to completion in like a over a year, so the details are finally getting hazy.

[curse-d-owl]

Dominic:

- Has a heroes relic that deals magic damage based on their magic stat

- Has a crest that give them a chance to conserve magic uses

- You can wield weapons barring gauntlets in a mage class

- Isn't in a magic class that takes advantage of his crest

- Isn't in a magical class that trains his magic stat

- Has the lowest magic stat out of all the 10 elites, including Goneril, a pure physical unit

Is he stupid?

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

I want to see Barbie in fire emblem, like what class would she be, how would her stats work? And most importantly can she do anything?

.

[ghost-tm]

chrom + robin class series

[ # 2 - GRANDMASTER ]

[asphodelis]

mmm recursion

[gzeidraws]

Master Merchant Anna