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fireemblems24 · 4 years ago

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Azure Moon Ch 20 Reactions

Hi everyone, spoilers below for Fire Emblem Three Houses AM route up till Ch 20 and all the other routes roughly the same spot.

Pre-Battle

Time to take Fort Merceus. If I remember right, I get to fight the Death Knight . . . again. Still feels better than fighting with that guy. Same like last chapter saving Claude felt so much better than killing him in CF.

Ah, it's so nice to hear Dimitri's voice again.

"Perhaps a head-on siege was a foolish plan, after all." LAMO I love how wonky battle strategy is in most stories compared to real life. A head-on siege is actually smart. The nonsense about disguising soldiers and relying on tricks isn't how things really went most of the time.

There's instances of tricks working throughout history (one of my favorite was how a Chinese General sent out dancing girls to distract his enemy and it WORKED), but that means your whole plan hinged on a trick working and most of the time when an army used a trick it's because that was their ONLY choice.

Just remember this folks. Good army commanders aren't the one who know the most tricks, it's the ones who win (or the one who can keep their army together even when they keep losing like George Washington for the longest time). Don't listen to the movies.

Also, bows were soooooo much more effective than swords. Our penchant for giving every hero a sword actually has classist roots since it was the weapon of the rich because it cost a lot to make and time to properly learn unlike a spear or arrows.

Sorry, but it always annoys me whenever I see stuff like this misrepresented, and I like to rant about it.

See, there we go, Gilbert for the win. "I don't think the Death Knight would've fallen for any tricks." Well, aside from why on earth we still fear this guy aside, bravo for not hinging success or failure based on some wonky trick.

And now Gilbert's talking about supplies. I could KISS this man right now. And now reinforcements. Thank you, Gilbert 😭

Oh, man, I get the option to flirt with Dimitri, I'm taking the "Will you save me if I'm in trouble?"

Aw, Mercie, you're better off without him. Dimitri's letting her step away too, if she wants. But best girl (one of them) isn't about to run away like the champ she is.

Battle

Do we ever learn why the Death Knight is so obsessed with Byleth?

LAMO Dimitri's like "wow, I know why this fortress is known for being impregnable," says he after busting through the front door on day 1. There's a joke somewhere here about Dimitri's incredibly potent dick.

I wanted Mercie to attack the Death Knight, but she couldn't take the hit. So Byleth one-shot him with a crit lol. Byleth wouldn't have killed if she didn't crit, and then Mercie would've gotten her chance, but alas it wasn't meant to be.

Poor Mercie deserves a better older brother.

Dimitri MVP. This is my surprised face.

Post-Battle

Poor Mercie is an angel and has nothing to be sorry or. I like that she gets this scene though. I feel like every member of the Blue Lions got their own mini-arc.

Time to take down the Empire, aw yeah.

Which means I'm coming up on the last monastery visit for BL. For all the routes really. This has been such a long journey. I have no idea what I'll do with my free time after this lol. The DLC I guess. and then more Azure Moon!

I'll wait and see how the other routes wrap up, but I feel this game has a high replay value, but I don't know if I can bring myself to play a route where Dimitri dies again.

Dimitri's such a workaholic. I can't relate.

Good! The Kingdom is all united now. Glad Sylvain is speaking well of his father. It makes Margrave Gautier seem like a more fleshed-out person and not just an excuse for Sylvain angst. (as much as I love some good angst)

Oh, so some Faerghus nobles were behind Duscur. I thought it was those lame mole men? Having corrupt nobility behind is sooooo much more interesting.

Hey, I just noticed. No light bombs in this route. Cause we actually just killed the Death Knight.

"I only did what I believed was right." Says the prisoner. Seems like it's the theme of Three Houses as a whole summed up there. Pending on your perspective, what's "right" and "wrong" look very different.

Ohhhh so Patricia wasn't supposed to be harmed at all, and Dimitri was supposed to die too. Makes it seem like she really did set that up. If she really was involved, what an awful, selfish, sad excuse for a person that would condemn so many people to brutal deaths just because she missed her daughter. I sincerely hope there's more to her than "oh, I miss Edelgard. I'll hand my husband and other child over to burn to death so I can please my own desires."

What do you all think of Patricia? Is she a pathetic sad waste of air or an enigma we'll never find out or a poor hapless victim in a plot she didn't understand or mostly an innocent? What's your headcannons?

I'd really like the believe she never intended for Lambert or especially Dimitri to get hurt, because I want Dimitri to have a mother figure that loved him and not one that sent him into a meat grinder because she redefined playing favorites (which would be ironic given Edelgard never mentions her whereas she obviously had a huge impact on Dimitri). I'd also prefer a character a bit more complex than evil step-mother. We have enough of those, thanks.

It sounds like she's just an evil useless windbag according to Gilbert though.

What were Lambert's radical ways?

I see why Edelgard and Dimitri will never both exist in the same world. Dimitri's always appalled when people in charge involve soldiers and especially citizens in their personal quests for justice, but Edelgard thinks that justice is worth getting all those people killed for (and is actively doing just that).

I have to ask, though, how is Edelgard any different from the people who committed the Tragedy of Duscur? They both believe their cause was right and don't care how many others die in their quest to see their own vision through to the end.

I'm sure people would say "but Edelgard is fighting for a good cause, they didn't, they caused genocide too!"

Did they? Do we know what Lambert's causes were? Maybe he wanted to strengthen the church's influence or crests and Klienman and co were against that, which would make them the exact same as Edelgard. Also, I believe they're referring only to the attack on Lambert and co, not the persecution of Duscur people that came after. That was a product of war and chaos. Who's to say Edelgard's actions won't begin a massacre of anyone who worships Sothis? Or further violence she didn't directly begin? Impersliam and blaming the world's ills on a single religious group of people tend to cause chain-reaction violence.

That's ultimately why I think she's morally incorrect. She's blinded by her own vision and has no control over what might happen because of it or how others might see it. She sees her cause as just, but you can be sure the farmers who fields she robbed to feed her soldiers (no, not personally, but there's no way that didn't happen) could give less of a hoot about her grand vision seen from the height of her golden throne, unable to even see what anyone else thinks or believes.

Note though, part of what I like about her is how unbending she is. Just because I think someone is wrong doesn't mean I dislike them as a character.

Man, the writers are so mean to Dimitri. Edelgard gets to fra-la-la through a field with Byleth with little to no conflict or loss on her part and Claude gets to joke around with Hilda about dressing up as Edelgard to sneak in a fortress while Dimitri learns his mother sent him to a slaughter house because she loved her other child better. Yikes. That's also why it's the best route. Fight me.

Good for Dimitri moving on though, and not lingering on what Patricia might or might not have done. I noticed he left her out this time when listing people who died though lol.

Yes, Dimitri, talking to Edelgard is a fool's errand. That would require her to do things she's not very good at - listening, understanding someone else's POV, and compromise. Pretty sure you need to die for her to stop or else you're too big of a threat to her rule.

Still. So glad he's trying to use diplomacy to end this war rather than weapons. I think this is the first time in FE history a leader has tried meeting with the enemy and not just killing them (oh, wait, Erikia did that too with Lyon, didn't go well. Guess I have a type lol).

Is it weird to feel proud of a fictional character? Lol. Dimitri moving on past Patricia to focus on what he still has and value those he knows that love and support him is just 👌

OMG I love this route. I'm going to miss it so much once it's over.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses spoilers #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd

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omgkalyppso · 3 years ago

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📓📓📓ooo spill!!!

A fic I will either write in a frenzy or never write is a single parent au for my fe3h ot5.

Lorenz is father to Lorencia and Baldovin (Vinnie), a widower. Hilda is mother to Halvard, divorced from Caspar (exes affectionate). Claude is father to Nader, divorced from Ingrid (exes derogatory). Fae is parent to Geralt, situation [redacted]. Avery is childless.

Here's A Lot of blocked dialogue:

[at the park the faerghus four frequent with their kids. DimiMari, FeLys, Ingrid as Claude’s ex, Sylvain hanging on (eventual Sylgrid), school year soon to start] Claude: Hey. Group: Hey. Dimitri: It's good to see you again. Marianne: Good evening. Lysithea: Hi Claude. Felix: Mm. Sylvain: It's been a while. Claude: [commenting on the # of children in the park] Busy day. Ingrid: They need to enjoy the sun while they can. Claude: Couldn't agree more. Sylvain: Plans for the weekend? Claude: Nothing out of the ordinary, not leaving town. Ingrid: What's that supposed to mean? Claude: Dinner with my parents. Sara and her family are visiting on their way up north. Whale watching. Marianne: Oh, that's lovely, I hope they have a good time. Claude: I'll share the well wishes. FeLys kid: Ned, Ned, look what we found. Felix: What's that? No, hey. This has gotta be cleaned before you can play with this. [action figure in the sand] Claude: Ned? Ingrid: It's a nickname. Some of his friends were having trouble with Nader. Claude: Did you talk to them about it? Ingrid: No, it seemed harmless. Claude: It's not— It's not his name. Blythe: Ned! Claude: Are you calling him that? [other parents disperse, Marianne’s phone rings] Ingrid: Of course not. I wasn't having trouble with my son's name. Claude: It's important. Ingrid: I know it is. What do you want me to do, about it, exactly? Claude: The next time his friends are over, just, bring it up. Ingrid: Alright. Claude: [hopeful] Yeah? Ingrid: Yeah, okay. Claude: Thank you. Ingrid: [hopeful] You're not going to leave yet are you? Claude: No, I— I won't interrupt. Ingrid: Good. Just a few more minutes. Claude: Yeah.

[in claude’s car] Claude: Did you have a good day, champ? Nader: Yeah, [description of day's events]. What about you Baba, did you have a nice day? Claude: You know it. Found a solution to a hard problem at work, got to see my friends, and now we're going to have a wonderful evening together, aren't we?

[after a movie on a couch in claude’s apartment] Claude: D'j'you like that? Nader: Mmhm. The [themes or characters a child would like]. Claude: Right. Hey Nader? Nader: Mm? Claude: Did you ask your friends to start calling you Ned? I'm not angry, I'm just curious. Nader: It just happened, and Ned is like, a smart name? So I don't mind being Ned sometimes. Claude: You know, I think Nader's a pretty smart name. Nader: [clearly trying not to laugh] No. Claude: [scoffed, bringing Nader from couch to bed] Yeah, I do. Don't you think grandpa's smart? Nader: Sometimes. Claude: [amused] Oh, sometimes. Maybe. But I wouldn't have called you Nader if I didn't think he was smart, and brave, and honorable. [sincere] You know even if you're not, you're my Nader, and I don't want you to forget that, you know? I love you. Nader: I love you too. Claude: Good. Sweet dreams, Nader. Nader: Night night. Claude: Night night.

[text conversation from Claude’s bed] Avery, much earlier: Hey Claude: Sorry, busy night Avery: Date? Claude: Noooo. I have more class than that Avery: Mmm. Well, it's late, but it's Friday, you hitting me up? Claude: Reminder that you messaged me first, and no, I can't tonight Avery: Alright. Well, when works for you Claude: Tuesday? Avery: Tuesday? I could have a fiance by Tuesday Claude: Ooo. Menage a trois Avery: I'll text Claude: I'll answer Avery: Later Claude: Night

[previous day in a parking lot] Halvard: Dad! Caspar: Heya, buddy! Rawr!!! You got everything? Look at the size of these bags. Halvard: Mhmm. Caspar: There's a good boy. Why don't you say hi to Annie? Hilda: Hi Caspar. Caspar: Hey Hilda. Hilda: He's been looking forward to this. Caspar: Bet you have too? Some time to relax. Hilda: [suppressing tears] No, I'm… I'm just going to miss him. Caspar: [plaintive] It's only for a week— Hilda: I know. Still, you'll have him call me? Caspar: Of course. Hilda: Good. Then have fun. Don't worry about me. Caspar: You'll like it. Find a party, like you used to. Hilda: [annoyed] Cas— Caspar: Or something else. Just try to enjoy it. Hilda: Halvard. Have a good time, okay? Halvard: Yeah! Hilda: Call me if you need me? Halvard: I'm sorry you can't come, Mom. (framed like she doesn't have time) Hilda: That's alright. Maybe next time. [to Annie] Come here and hug me too before you go. Annette: Thank you, Hilda. Hilda: Of course. Travel safely. Good luck with the boys.

[phone conversation from hilda’s parked car] Marianne: Hi Hilda. Hilda: Hi Marianne. You were right, I cried again. Marianne: That's alright. That's normal. That's healthy! Hilda: Thanks, sweetie. Ugh. It's just so hard. Marianne: I know it is. You handle the situation so well, I know Caspar appreciates it, and that Hal will, someday. Hilda: I hope so. Thank you. Marianne: Any time, Hilda. And you called in time to pull me away from Claude's mess. We're all at the park and … well, you know how it is. Hilda: [less tears, more embarrassed] Yeah. Yeah, I do. Marianne: Sorry, I— Hilda: No, it's fine. I— I think I'm going to go though. Say hi to Dimitri and Blythe, and everyone. Marianne: I will. Hilda: All my love. Marianne: Love you too Hilda. Bye. Hilda: Bye.

[sometime during the weekend, at the park near claude’s apartment; nader hangs from monkey bars and geralt hangs from nader’s feet] Fae: Gerry. Gerry, you can't do that. Nader: It's okay. I'm very strong. Fae: I'm sure that's true, and so is Geralt, isn't that right? [lifting their son off the unknown child and down into sand] Which means he could hurt your back or your ankles, or you could fall on his head. So can we take the bars one at a time in the future, please? Geralt: Yes, Renny. Nader: Yeah. Fae: Thank you. What's your name? Nader: Nader. Fae: Oh, Nader, what a lovely name you have. Has Geralt introduced himself? Nader: Yeah, a little. Fae: Alright. I'll leave you alone for a little longer. Come find me if you want juice. Geralt: Thank you, Renny.

Claude: Hey. Fae: Hi. Nader must be yours? Claude: That he is. He behaving himself? Fae: Nothing serious. He and my son Geralt were just risking injury for fun. Claude: Renny, is it? Fae: Oh, no. That's just what my son calls me. I'm Fae. Claude: Claude. [amused] How does he get Renny from Fae. Fae: Oh, well, Ren comes from parent, and then Renny is like Mommy. [embarrassed] Convoluted. Claude: [sincere] It's sweet. Fae: Thank you. I really appreciate how adventurous Nader is. Oftentimes Geralt will play alone, and I expected it to be worse after the move. Claude: Oh, when was that? Fae: A few weeks ago. Claude: That's recent. Fae: Mm. Are you local? Any tips for the neighborhood? Claude: Nader spends week days with his mother, but weekends are spent out here with me. He likes the natural history museum when we have time to go, besides the dinosaur bones, they have these wooden dinosaur structures out front for the kids to climb on. Fae: That sounds cool. Claude: It is. Closer than that there's [restaurant, elaboration]. And there's [ice cream parlor] on [street name], if you like gelato or soft serve. Fae: Gosh, I should write this down. [Claude, by force of habit, produces first a pen and then paper, while Fae was readying the notepad on their phone. He inquires about school board, explains that he gets two weekends and then two weeks (Mon-Fri) with Nader, because he didn’t want to just be a weekend dad, and this way each he and Ingrid get a whole seven days with their son sometimes. He doesn’t know why he’d be so forward about that with someone he just met. Something about the tone of the conversation has Claude suspecting Fae’s also parenting without a second pair of hands] Claude: Is it just the two of you, that moved out this way? Fae: Yeah… Yeah, it's— [weighing the insecurity of telling a man that there’s no one waiting for them at home] Yeah. It's always been just the two of us. Claude: [surprised] Oh. That must be hard. Fae: We manage. Claude: Do we want to leave meeting to chance? Might see us in the park again sometimes, or you could take my number? Fae: [skeptical] Can’t guarantee I’ll call. Claude: I’ll try not to take it personally.

[fae will actually lose claude’s number, or tuck it into a drawer to be rediscovered at a later time; if anything they’ll be getting closer to lorenz first. But when they actually seem to be getting close, fae will lean in for a kiss and lorenz will lean away out of fear and uncertainty (reminder he is a widower in this au), and fae will feel rejected, putting a temporary rift between them]

#long post

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houseisekai · 4 years ago

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Cyberpunk 2077 house isekai version. Imagine house isekai as edge -runners of night city

They would not be House Isekai at that point. They’d be Gang Isekai.

Cutting edge-tech unable to be hacked due to advanced AI of Vega and Hayden, but completely unpredictable and the most volatile gang of Night City.

When crossing them, unholy amounts of explosions are guaranteed, collateral damage will skyrocket, and no one can predict who their allies, enemies, or plans are.

Not even big name Corpos like Arasaka and Militech could stop them, mostly on account of them all being complete dumbasses.

Nothing is more dangerous than trying to predict the actions of a moron.

-----

(Rean) “So this is...Earth?”

(Ainz) “Weird. I remember not being able to see the skies at all.��

(Byleth) “So we’re closer to your year then?”

(Sitri) “How...bright. I think it’s hurting my eyes.”

(Kazuma) “The hell is this?!”

(Yuki) “Um...I don’t recall home looking this...scifi?”

(Megumi) “Our year was 2015!”

(Akira & Yu) “Same.”

(Minako) “2008 for us.”

(Minato) “Also if this is the future, why does the city look like shit?”

- Doomguy shrugged. He looked around out of the alley and found a nearby window.

- It was playing a news broadcast and showed the year, 2077.

(Edelgard) “We appear to be quite far into the future.”

(Claude) “I’m with Minato here, why does the future seem like a dump?”

(Dimitri) “Goddess, those people have lodged metal into their heads!”

- Several people walked the streets wearing different cybernetics, some replacing parts of their arms, legs, eyes, the list went on.

(Sothis) “What a strange world Earth is...”

- A person walked by and looked at Sothis.

(Person) “The fuck is that floating hologram? Take that freaky shit back to the strip club down the road.”

(Everyone) “...”

(Cocytus) “PERHAPS WE SHOULD FIND SOMEWHERE TO HIDE OUT. I THINK WITH OUR NUMBERS WE ARE ATTRACTING ATTENTION.”

(Minako) “We need a warehouse or something huge! All Four of our classes couldn’t fit anywhere smaller!”

(Towa) “Yeah...we kinda look like a bunch of thugs right now honestly.”

(Sharon) “Hm...I think this world appears to have more advanced tech than our Orbal gear. Scouting would be extremely dangerous...”

(Sara) “So, Byleth. What’s our plan?”

(Byleth) “Hm...We need to-”

(Officer) “NCPD. What the hell’s all this?”

Everyone spun around and saw an impatient looking police officer.

(Officer) “Can’t ya dumbasses read? No loitering!”

Everyone looked up to the sign above them.

(Sylvain) “...Who’s going to tell him most of us can’t actually read that?”

(Ingrid) “SYLVAIN!”

(Officer) “Ya being smart with me kid?”

(Hilda) “H-Hey, sir! We’re sorry. We were just leaving!”

The officer glanced over to the right and his eyes widened.

(Officer) “The fuck’s with this parade over here? Why’s there so many of you in this specific location?”

(Linhardt) “That...is a GREAT question.”

- Doomguy stepped forward and looked down at the officer.

(Officer) “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

(Vega) There is a warehouse 6 blocks to the left. I suggest making a hasty retreat.

- Doomguy moved past the officer and everyone began to follow suit.

(Officer) “Psh, buncha assholes.”

(Yuki) “...Megunee, I don’t like the future.”

(Megumi) “I don’t think I do either, Yuki-chan...”

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syllvaiin · 5 years ago

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(Oops— not me projecting my own depressive thoughts into an extremely self-indulgent little fanfiction starring my emotional support boyfriend!! Really though, I’ve been pretty down the last few days, and writing this was vv therapeutic for me. I was going to private this, but I figured that if it helped me, it might be comforting for some else, too :’) I just think that he would be the best person to comfort me asdfghjkl)

“Sylvain,” you say, catching his attention as you’re walking beside him.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Can I have a hug?”

“Of course!”

He scoops you up into his arms with such fervor that you can feel the love seeping from his skin as he holds you tightly and you truly feel like the most important person in his world, onlookers be damned! Sylvain could care less about their opinions. When he heard the small quiver in your voice as you asked for a hug, he poured all of his earnest affection into this embrace. It’s all purely innocent, with no underlying intentions to manipulate the action to a more sinful direction. There is romanticism and a closeness that can only be observed in that of lovers, but the kiss he presses to your shoulder is only to affirm what isn’t said out loud — he wants to make sure that you are okay and to remind you of his love. Sylvain doesn’t need to verbalize these thoughts for you to be able to comprehend them.

He doesn’t show any signs of parting before you are ready to let go, and you really don’t want to, but you can feel the sharp prickling sting of tears threatening to spill, and maybe it would be better to go some place private where you can talk to him and fully unveil your wounds, invisible as they appear, but you still harbor demons, and they’ve been clawing at your ribcage and rattling in your bones for too long that you know that if you so much as say one word, the blackness of their velvet hands will spit out like an inky fountain, splattering all those around you with their pestilence; but, you’re thankful for the man who stands in front of you, the one who can read you like a book, the one you’ve bared your soul and darkened thoughts to.

With just once glance at your glassy, watery eyes, he takes the initiative and leads you to an empty, unassuming alleyway amidst the bustling atmosphere of the city, and the minute he asks you what’s bothering you, the floodgates open, lurching you forward to sob into the safety of his strong arms. Sylvain wants to wipe away all of your sadness and tears and anxieties, but he’ll settle for sliding down against the stone walls of an apothecary, cradling you in his embrace until you feel coherent enough to bite past the tears and your hitched, ragged breathing to speak.

He despises how broken and small you sound, not you, never you, but he loathes that there is something with enough force and influence to cause you to feel this way. You tell him of the lingering, painful thoughts that sometimes find themselves at the forefront of your mind, telling you that you aren’t good enough, you aren’t strong enough, you are weak and undeserving. You tell him that you try so hard to maintain an optimistic viewpoint, but it’s so difficult and exhausting to keep up this facade when you are hurting so deeply. You tell him that you love him and are so grateful for him, but most of all, you tell him that you feel as if you aren’t enough for him and you’re scared — terrified — that he’ll wake up one day and realize that you’re truly awful, leaving you cold and alone to wither away and die. You tell him that you abhor this feeling that reverberates inside of your skull and that you desperately wish that your mind would cease this incessant and aggravating torture.

Sylvain has always known you as someone generous and kind and so loving and so patient with him, but he was also aware that you, much like him, donned a mask, concealing and repressing your darker thoughts; he saw through the cracks just as you saw through his own mask. But, he was unaware of just how deeply the cracks ran, delving deep in the foundation of your very being and threatening the core essence of the person you were above it all. You’d been a comfort for one another, a constant through war and the reformation of a broken country. With the whirlwind of change that has transpired since your days in the academy, you’ve given each other stability and security. To find out that you were hurting, through it all, and you’ve hidden it so well, it pains him greatly.

He affirms you that you are, and always shall be, ‘the absolute love of his life’; there is nothing that will ever change that. He tells you how brave and resilient you are and how proud he is of the beautiful, amazing person that you’ve become — you’re a victor amongst the turbulence of an unfair war. Sylvain avows that while he may not fully understand exactly how you feel, he will do everything in his power to help you and comfort you and ease that burden. He reminds you of all that you’ve accomplished, and he laughs as he recounts his favorite memories that you’ve shared together.

He presses a kiss to your temple and hums against your skin, ‘you’re enough, you’re loved, you’re so strong and smart and kind’ and all of the other thoughts that his gentle affections verbalize. It may only be temporary reprieve for however long until you’re met with your demons, but right now it is enough.

Sylvain showers you in extra flirtatious comments and kisses that evening, and when the mood gradually shifts towards something sultry and passionate, he devotes the night to showcasing his physical love and adoration for you, layering you with praises and all of the bliss and admiration that your body can handle before he and you emerge a tangle of limbs and you fall asleep to the sound of his even, rhythmic heartbeat, your head against his naked chest, only thinking of how loved you are.

#this was very impromptu and not at all edited #and again very self indulgent #but maybe it’ll help someone else feel a bit happier too :’)#sylvain jose gautier #sylvain x reader #comfort writing

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iturbide · 4 years ago

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Oof long day on no sleep? I feel u. Here’s a few questions! For Spite Project, are there any unexpected consequences for Miklan attacking the House Leaders? A former Faerghian noble attacking the most important heirs in Fodlan can’t be a good look for House Gautier or the Kingdom, disowned or no. Dimitri and the Childhood Friend Squad prob have some complex feelings to the say the least. Maybe Rodrique early appearance?Also since Miklan is taken care of early, how is the relic and crest 1/2

yeah it’s gonna be a pain the only thing keeping me going is the fakemon running around my head

Thank you for these Spite Project questions because that one is near and dear to my heart

To start with, though...we don’t actually take care of Miklan early. Miklan, unlike Kostas, is an actual competent leader: he very nearly manages to kill Dimitri when he attacks the House Leaders outside the monastery, and both Dimitri and Claude would have been dead if Claude hadn’t seen an opening and made a break for, hopeing to find a knight patrol and stumbling across Jeralt’s mercenaries in Remire instead. Miklan...did not take well to being forced to disengage, so when the Flame Emperor came to rebuke him in the Red Canyon, he informed her that he had a plan to see the mission through: he knew about the relic held by House Gautier, and believed that if he stole it he would have sufficient power to take on the mercenaries that brought him to a standstill the first time.

He’s also smart enough to leave a scapegoat behind: aware that Garreg Mach has eyes on Zanado, he left Kostas and his band in the Red Canyon, promising them a cut of the profit if he’d “guard” the location until Miklan’s band could return and knowing full well he wouldn’t have to make good on that since the Knights of Seiros would surely come to stomp the bandits out. He’s right, too -- though what he didn’t see coming was Dimitri and Claude tagging along for the mission (along with his own younger brother and several other Blue Lions). Believing that it was Miklan there and finding someone else in Zanado instead leaves them all uneasy, so when news reaches the monastery about the theft of House Gautier’s relic, they all sign on again to deal with the matter because there’s really only one person who would have a vested interest and knowledge in such a thing.

As for unexpected consequences generally, it’s certainly something that Edelgard would take full advantage of to decry the corrupt nature of noble houses and the Crest system: if not for that, such a thing never would have happened, now, would it (despite the fact that she was the one who hired him)? Something about the claim would bother Claude, but he wouldn’t quite be able to pinpoint what it is until it’s far too late, something he deeply regrets. The Kingdom would definitely scramble to do damage control, since even Rufus would recognize that this is Bad -- he might be a terrible regent, but he’s not stupid -- so Rodrigue getting shipped out to the Monastery for an investigation would be entirely likely, though by then Miklan would have disappeared back into the frozen north on his quest to claim his “stolen birthright” as House Gautier’s eldest son. The Faerghus Four definitely have tumultuous feelings about the whole thing, with Dimitri taking it hard since he’s the one who almost died (and did end up severely concussed, Claude had to drag him off the field) and Sylvain taking it even harder because of the family connection. It definitely doesn’t help that none of them have had much if any practice in dealing with trauma rather than repressing it.

Dimitri definitely has an interesting time in Derdriu. Claude’s grandfather is very fond of him, but the prince realizes fairly early on that the relationship between the current head of House Riegan and his heir is...strained, to say the least. They clearly have very different ideas about what constitutes “maintaining the Alliance’s autonomy,” with the elder von Riegan wanting the Imperials expelled and kept out while Claude believes their only hope is neutrality given the mix of pro- and anti-Imperial sentiment within their own borders. Claude is the one who’s effectively heading up the Alliance, though, since his grandfather’s health has been declining for a while; Duke von Riegan can’t head up the round tables himself, so Claude goes and does things his way, which does keep them out of direct conflict with Edelgard and her army.

After the whole disaster of Dimitri hunting Imperial scouts in secret, Claude offers to bring him along to a round table meeting so he can see what governance is like in the Alliance. The prince is all for it since the whole system has always sounded chaotic to him, and...well, it is. He keeps to himself in the dark corners of the room and listens to the arguments going around the table, along with Claude’s mediation -- and occasionally his very subtle instigations.

(Claude laughs when Dimitri brings this up because no one else has noticed yet: he figures keeping them arguing is better than having them calling up soldiers -- harmless barbs here prevent deadly ones elsewhere.)

Derdriu is also a very different sort of city than Fhirdiad, so Claude takes Dimitri out to explore when they can find time for it. The markets and the ocean and the wyverns are all fascinating to him, and after causing his inadvertent invasion scare Dimitri ends up getting pretty friendly with Claude’s white wyvern -- enough that later, when Claude ends up in danger, she goes and finds Dimitri for help.

As for Pre-Timeskip Fix-It, I actually don’t think mercenary work is really looked down on in Fodlan -- or, if nothing else, it’s certainly not scorned in the Alliance. Leonie’s whole goal in coming to Garreg Mach is so she can become a mercenary like Jeralt, and she’s not shy about that; Raphael, too, brings up that he’s weighed being either a knight or a mercenary, but is aiming toward knighthood solely for the more stable income, since mercenaries are contracted jobs rather than secured posts. Jeralt also brings up that he’s worked for Lonato’s family before (he specifically mentions Cristophe), so clearly there are Faerghus nobles who don’t turn their nose up to hiring mercenaries to get jobs done. Effectively, mercenaries end up in a societal position below knights, but their skills are at least on par with them from a technical standpoint.

If Byleth’s mindset is going to challenge anyone else, it’s probably the born and bred nobles. Ashe knows what life is like on the streets because he’s been there before, but he still holds tight to his optimism and the dream of becoming an exemplary knight; Ingrid, meanwhile, has an extremely unrealistic expectation of what a knight should be, and really needs to get that sorted out considering she’s willing to scold Dimitri for saying that Glenn’s death was terrible rather than the knightly ideal she apparently has in her head. Byleth does do a lot of work with the other classes (monthly assists and all), so they’d have a good opportunity with her. Others, like Caspar, just need to rein in their enthusiasm a little before it causes problems like it does in their support chain, so that’s another way Byleth’s experience can come in handy.

(As much as he might need it, Hubert isn’t terribly receptive to the challenges, since he’s so stuck on supporting Edelgard. Byleth keeps trying anyway, when they can, because they’re really not threatened by him at all.)

And for Pokemon Annette is too cute and I don’t know what it is but Jolly-natured Electric pokemon just really seem like a great fit for her. I don’t know why but I love it.

#answered #fallingfruitfish #fire emblem: three houses #spite project #pre-timeskip fix-it #pokemon: three houses #eventually dimitri gets settled enough to hit the derdriu markets on his own #though he does generally prefer going with claude #the company is nice and he always points out things dimitri missed #also someone really needs to talk to ingrid #this is a consistent thing she needs a major attitude adjustment #meanwhile annie just needs personal electric types #this is factual and verified

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pastelsapphy · 6 years ago

Note

Why does Sylvian hates himself?

(This ended up being really long whoops)

*cracks knuckles* time to talk about my boy

[All quotes taken from the Fire Emblem Fandom Wiki, so there may be some slight inaccuracies]

Okay so first off Sylvain grew up in a shitty environment, to say the absolute least, and that fucks with your head.

First: his brother. He attempted to kill Sylvain on multiple occasions as kids because Sylvain had a Crest. And Sylvain just like, accepts that??? You can see that a lot in his A support with Byleth. He talked about being shoved in a well and being left on a mountain in winter by his brother, and almost immediately followed up with “I have no right to complain” because he, in theory, got lucky: he got the Crest.

And you figure, he would’ve grown up apologizing and made to feel guilty just for existing. You can see in his dialogue against Miklan, in chapter five:

Miklan: Hmph! Hurry up and die already. If not for you… If it hadn’t been for you…

Sylvain: Shut up! I’m so tired of hearing that. You’ve always blamed me for something that isn’t my fault.

He’s definitely been saying that since they were kids. That kinda stuff really fucks with your sense of self-worth after a while.

Then we have the rest of his family. We don’t hear anything about his mother, or much about his father, but we can infer some things about the latter: Margrave Gautier disowned, abandoned, and cast aside his first son in favor of the one with a Crest. Considering the dialogue about “everything being taken away” from Miklan, it’s possible that he was being raised to be the next Margrave, because someone had to inherit–with Crests becoming less common, who knows how long it would’ve taken to get a kid with one, if they got one at all? They needed a backup plan. And then Sylvain came along, with the minor Crest of Gautier, and suddenly Miklan didn’t exist. That’s fucked up, and it shows how little Margrave Gautier cared about his kids. I honestly doubt he showed Sylvain any kind of affection or attention growing up, and probably only interacted with him for inheritance- and Crest-related reasons. To him, Sylvain was a walking Crest, not a person (Sylvain’s fear of people only ever wanting him for his Crest, and not as a person in any respect, had to come from somewhere).

(And, if I can add a bit of an aside, I feel like this is the root of his philandering. Makes me think of the whole “even negative attention is better than nothing” kinda thing. You figure, Little Sylvain would have been incredibly touch-starved and desperate for attention. Humans are a social species and we literally need attention and affection to live well. I mean, he flirted with Ingrid’s grandmother when he was eight. I can only imagine what he said/did if Ingrid remembered it, considering she would have been five or six at the time. And kids that young don’t really know any better yet. Poor kid probably just wanted attention.)

(Additional aside that came to mind while writing this: I wonder if seeing the arrangement between Ingrid and Glenn affected this at all? Like yeah marriages in that kind of setting were purely political and such, but Ingrid was engaged to Glenn because (a) House Fraldarius was a powerful, well-to-do noble family and House Galatea really needed the resources, and (b) Ingrid was desirable as a wife because she had a Crest. Of course, we don’t know the exact circumstances of the arrangement, but we can infer from her other prospects. Sylvain still would have essentially seen Ingrid being used for leverage because of her Crest.)

So long before the events of the game, Sylvain is already pretty fucked up, emotionally. Trauma does that to you, especially when you have an “everyone else has it worse and I, actually, got lucky, so it doesn’t count and I’m not allowed to feel bad about it” complex. Survivor’s guilt is a hell of a drug lemme tell you. Sylvain has already internalized that,

He’s only good for his Crest

Any negative feelings about his Crest don’t matter, because those without have it worse.

No one will ever truly see him as a person–he’s just a Crest.

Already, that’s a pretty fucked up view of oneself.

By the time he gets to Garreg Mach, he has a carefully crafted persona set up: He’s an asshole, a liar, a serial flirt and cheater, dumb as a box of rocks, and a self-proclaimed “good-for-nothing.” In his B support with Dedue, you hear that people describe him as “indefensibly worthless,” which is followed by,

Sylvain: Indefensibly? Heh, that’s a bit harsh.

Dedue: I already knew your reputation concerning women. But these new rumors deprive you of all redemption. I did try to correct them. But I doubt I was believed.

Sylvain: Well, thank you all the same. Listen. You don’t need to worry what people think about me. As you well know, it’s not easy to correct misunderstandings or change people’s minds. And if I’m going to behave so badly, it seems misunderstandings are inevitable.

He doesn’t even argue, just kinda brushes it off and accepts that’s just How He Is (listen, Sylvain can definitely be an asshole at times, but I have to agree with that being harsh). He doesn’t want people to expect anything from him (well, not anything good). In his supports with Annette, he’s shown to be pretty smart, but admits he hides it because the pressure it puts on him is suffocating. He kinda goes out of his way to hide his more redeeming qualities like that. Also on that point, we have this bit from his B support with Ashe,

Sylvain: […] My advice on the whole thing is just to follow your instincts. That’s what I do. If someone’s in trouble, I help them. You don’t need to be a valiant knight to know that. Doesn’t matter if the person is an ugly old man or the cutest girl you’ve ever seen, you help ‘em.

Ashe: So, you’re saying…

Sylvain: Everybody’s the same, deep down. It’s our job to help anyone who needs it.

Ashe: Ah!

Sylvain: What? You’re looking at me funny. Did I say something wrong?

Ashe: No! No. I’m just surprised, that’s all. You’re actually a much better person than I thought.

“You’re actually a much better person than I thought.” Several of his supports have some variation of this line. Usually after he does something kind. And I mean, Sylvain is a kind person, under the philandering. Most of his supports involve him helping others out somehow.

He helps Dimitri with the girl situation (he kinda got him into it in the first place but I digress)

His whole C with Dedue is pretty much “racism is stupid and I’m going to be your friend, fuck what everyone else says.”

In his supports with Felix and Ashe, he helps them out in battle, at a detriment to himself (You can also throw Byleth in here, during their A support, but he was a jerk in their C and B).

In his Annette supports, she calls him out for going easy on her during training. He admits he was, but only because he didn’t want her to feel bad because she puts so much effort into her work while he “sorta gets by on [his] wits”

Okay I need to say how much I love his supports with Bernadetta???? He does genuinely try to compliment her work, and when he sees speaking to Bernie face-to-face won’t work, he goes out of his way to write a nice and well-worded review (a fairly lengthy one, according to Bernie) and compliment of her work–which Bernadetta takes to much better than she did talking in person. And this is one of the few supports where he doesn’t try to flirt. He’s just trying to give her genuine compliments on her writing and goes out of his way to do it without upsetting her.

His support with Hilda could go a few ways, but he did return the books for her and he did apparently get yelled at for something he didn’t do and didn’t even try to deflect that. And it seems that’s not even why he confronts her later: it’s because of how her actions were detrimental to other people (”And those books you left in your room for so long? Teachers and classmates needed those. So stop lying, and maybe stop being quite as selfish too.”). It’s not until she asks if the librarian said anything that he’s like “Oh, yeah, they yelled at me.”

And a fair amount of people still see him as “indefensibly worthless.” Sylvain often goes out of his way to help people, but he tends to brush it off and keep it lowkey.

I got a little off track here, but my point for this is Sylvain projects an outward appearance of being a really shitty, deplorable person. Almost everyone he has supports with is GENUINELY surprised when they realize that no, he’s not as bad as all the rumors about him imply. Sylvain just doesn’t really want people to know. And, as much as he plays it off like he doesn’t care, that kind thing gets to you after a while. So everyone except a handful of close friends seeing him in such a negative light? It filters in eventually, even if you’re not already emotionally fucked up.

Another thing I want to point out: A lot of times, it seems like Sylvain does not give a shit about what happens to him. A few of his support conversations involve him taking a blow in battle to protect someone else (and his attitude afterward is “better me than them”). Reading his A+ with Felix, “…protecting me like that. You’re so weak and yet you always… always…” this is definitely something Sylvain has a habit of doing. Additionally, we have one of his goal requests: “The best way to impress people is to save them by diving into harm’s way. That’s what a Great Knight does, yeah?” In true Sylvain style he covers it with “I just want to impress people” but he’s still devoting his training to being the guy who jumps in front of everyone else to tank the hit. Fully committing to that kind of thing takes more than just a shallow want to “impress people.” Then there’s his Monastery line to Byleth, toward the end of Verdant Wind I believe?, where he says he fights like he wants to die. Which…. yeah.

Another line of his that sticks with me: “burn until we meet again,” after defeating an enemy post-time skip. A friend of mine pointed out it might just be dramatic, but I think about that a lot. Does he think he’s going to the 3h equivalent of hell??? Does he think he’s that terrible of a person??

Uh this turned out to be a lot longer than i thought. So I guess to sum up:

Sylvain grew up internalizing the idea that he doesn’t have any worth as a person. Everything he is and has is related to his Crest. Everything that people feel towards him is related to his Crest and not who he is as a person.

He internalized the idea that because he has a Crest, that he’s not allowed to be upset about any of this, because he got lucky.

Growing up with Miklan’s abuse, he was definitely made to feel guilty about simply daring to exist. So he grows up hating himself.

He developed an outward persona that only reinforced these ideas–he makes and lets people believe he’s a piece of shit.

His attitude in battle shows how little he seems to care about himself.

tl;dr: Sylvain grew up without any love or affection, and was severely emotionally fucked up by his family, which complicated his relationships with other people and his view of himself as a person and his worth. He purposely projected an image of himself to support this, letting people believe he’s a shit person and doesn’t argue back because he feels it’s well-deserved. He doesn’t seem to think he’s actually worth anything. Sylvain, of course, like all people, has negative traits–that’s just part of being human. But his sense of self has been so warped and twisted over the years that he can’t seem to do anything but hate himself.

#fire emblem three houses #sylvain jose gautier #sylvain gautier #fe sylvain #fire emblem sylvain #three houses #fire emblem three houses spoilers #fe16 spoilers #three houses spoilers #fe16 #feth #fe three houses #asks #anon #mine #long post #i have a lot of feelings about sylvain okay #abuse mention #abuse mention cw

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crackimagines · 6 years ago

Text

Child!Byleth as a Professor

Alright, at some point I saw a post about how funny it would be if tiny child Byleth became the professor instead wait a second how old are we of the adult one.

I wanted to find the og post and link it because I love the idea and wanted to write for it, but I couldn’t find it.

If OP is reading this, know that your idea is BRILLIANT!

Now that context is over, LET THE LESSON BEGIN

EDIT: Child!Byleth Post Masterlist here!

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Child!Byleth as a Professor (Part 1)

Meeting the Tiny Professor

------

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me...” Jeralt said as he face palmed.

Rhea had told Jeralt that his son would be a Professor at this academy after his heroic feats saving some students.

What boggled his mind, and everyone else’s in that room, was that his son looked like he was about 10 years old.

True, he was a gifted mercenary and a smart kid. He didn’t earn the title ‘The Ashen Demon’ by lazing around all day, but he was not expressive in the slightest.

He was sure that he’d freak everyone out with how he acted, but there wasn’t any use telling Rhea no.

He exited the audience chamber with Byleth, and he looked down at him.

“You heard what she said, right?”

“Yeah...Why me though?” Byleth asked, a blank expression on his face.

“Kid, if I knew, I would’ve told you...How about you get around the academy and get to know the brats? I have to check something in my room. I’ll be with you soon.”

Byleth nodded and went down the stairs.

A knight guarding the room looked at Jeralt.

“Uh sir, shouldn’t he have an escort of some kind?”

Jeralt scoffed, turning back to him.

“If anything, you guys would be escorted by HIM.”

As Byleth walked through the school, he noticed several people giving him funny looks as well as calling him ‘cute’.

He walked to the reception hall and saw Edelgard.

“Ah, hello Byleth.” Edelgard said respectfully.

Byleth nodded silently and she continued.

“Thank you once again for saving me and the others. We are in your debt.”

“Don’t worry about it...By the way, you’re the leader of a house, right?”

“That is correct. What of it?”

“Apparently I’m supposed to be teaching a group of students.”

Edelgard smiled. “I didn’t think you could squeeze out a joke like that.”

His face didn’t even move, only then she realized that he wasn’t joking.

“O-Oh, pardon? You’re replacing our previous professor?”

“Apparently. Miss Rhea wanted it.”

Several students noticed what he said and talked amongst themselves, while guards looked at each other in confusion.

If Byleth could feel a lot of regret, it would be now. The news began to spread like wildfire.

Blue Lions

Once Byleth talked to Dimitri and learned about his household, he was about to find Claude next until he was approached by Annette and Mercedes.

“Hey there! You’re Byleth right?” Annette asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh my goodness! He looks precious!” Mercedes said, cupping her hands together.

Dimitri face palmed in embarrassment. Sure he was a child, but the last thing that this kid needed was to be coddled.

Byleth remained stone-faced as they threw compliments and started to baby talk him.

“Just let us know if you need any help, sweetie! We can be your big sisters!” Annette cheerfully said.

“I must be seeing the other students now, I am on a tight schedule. Please excuse me.” Byleth replied, walking between them but making sure not to hit or shove them.

He walked off towards the Golden Deer house while all three of them looked at Byleth curiously.

Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid were speaking to each other until they saw Byleth walk by.

(Sylvain) “Hey there, you lost?”

Byleth turned towards Sylvain, his cold gaze instantly scaring him.

“I’m okay, thank you.”

Ingrid smiled politely and knelt down.

“Sorry, my friend didn’t mean to be rude. I’m Ingrid! And that’s Sylvain and Felix.”

“My name is Byleth. A pleasure.”

“So, you’re that kid everyone’s been talking about.” Felix said, a hint of hostility aiming at him.

“How did someone like you managed to get picked to be a professor?”

Ingrid slapped his shoulder angrily.

“Hey, don’t be mean! He’s just a child!”

Felix ignored her and continued.

“Listen here, I won’t let a kid get the better of me-”

Byleth turned to him, keeping his stone-faced expression.

“You won’t win.”

Ingrid was taken aback while Sylvain snorted, immediately looking at Felix who’s face spelled nothing but surprise and something that said ‘YOU WANNA GO?’.

“Is there any other students in the Blue Lions I should know about?” Byleth asked, turning back to Ingrid.

“U-Um...There’s Dedue and Ashe. They’re inside right now.”

“Thank you. Excuse me.”

He didn’t turn back to face Felix, who was ready to strangle the child until Ingrid karate chopped his head.

“Ack! What the-”

“ARE YOU SERIOUSLY PICKING A FIGHT WITH A CHILD, FELIX?!”

Byleth introduced himself to Ashe and Dedue. It was mostly Ashe talking the entire time since both of them were extremely quiet.

(Ashe) “U-Um...well, I look forward to speaking to you more often!”

Ashe said smiling. Byleth nodded at him then turned back to Dedue.

They both stared at each other, seemingly examining in close detail about the person they were staring down.

After a while, they both nodded at the same time, gaining a silent respect for each other and Byleth left.

(Dedue) “...I like him.”

Golden Deer

Leonie was the first to notice that a child was at the doors, but then she realized who exactly the child was.

“Hey, you’re Captain Jeralt’s kid, right?”

He looked up at her, not seemingly caring about the fact he was.

“I’m told that, yes.”

“You’re told-What? You should have pride in that! I was personally taught by the Blade Breaker at your age, and I am forever grateful for that!”

“Okay.”

Leonie’s anger went from 0 to the eternal hells.

“Oh, you’re a little punk, you know that!?” Leonie shouted, seemingly getting more and more angry that THIS is Jeralt’s child.

Hilda came in and separated the two.

“Alright, settle down there, Leonie! No need to pick a fight with our possible professor!”

“WHAT?! This kid is our professor?!”

“I possibly can. I’m here to speak to the students of the Golden Deer. Claude said I’d be able to find everyone in here.” Byleth said, looking disinterestedly around the classroom.

“You’ve come to the right place! Sorry about her, my name’s Hilda kiddo!”

“Please refrain from calling me that-”

“I’ll be more than happy to help you out in case you need help with shelves and such-”

“Is there anyone else I can talk to?”

Now, Hilda was just as angry as Leonie.

“What the, hey I’m being nice here!”

“I appreciate it, but I can do without the coddling. I am aware of my appearance, but I am far from just a child. Excuse me.”

He walked off, and they immediately started grumbling angrily about the brat that they had just seen.

Lysithea was watching from a distance, and immediately gained respect for the tiny professor.

“Finally, someone who understands my pain...!” She said to herself.

Afrer a seemingly pleasant conversation with Raphael and Ignatz, he left to find the other students. The three had discussed their history of the class and how strong they were, noticing that Byleth was especially strong himself.

Raphael offered to train with Byleth and Ignatz offered to study, to which he both respectfully declined due to his tight schedule. Byleth took a mental note of liking the two, however.

He went up to Lorenz, politely clearing his throat to get his attention.

“Ah, hello there! You must be the new professor! You may just be a child, but please note, you will not get any special treatment from me! For I am a noble, and to disregard such formalities for someone like you would-”

Byleth immediately lost interest, and turned away to find another student.

“What the- GET BACK HERE! I WASN’T FINISHED YOUNG MAN!”

“When you have something to say instead of idly flaunting, then please feel free to find me.” Byleth said without turning back, walking towards Marianne.

“O-Oh...hi there.” Marianne said shyly.

“Hello. My name is Byleth.”

“You’re...the professor? You’re so young!”

“I get that a lot.”

Marianne immediately backpedaled, her eyes going wide.

“I-I’m so sorry! I d-didn’t mean to offend you! You’re b-better off talking to someone else!”

“...Uwah...!”

Everyone in the room turned to look at Byleth as soon as he made that adorable noise.

Even though his face was still not moving, his voice sounded slightly panicked.

“P-Please do not worry about it. You’re one of the nicer people I’ve talked to today.”

Marianne’s heart skipped a beat as soon as she heard that.

“T-Thank you...” Marianne replied, slightly embarrassed she was being comforted by a child.

“Please take care.” Byleth said, bowing, then leaving the room.

“W-What a nice child...”

As he walked out, he saw Claude leaning against a pillar.

“So, got to know a bit of these misfits?”

“It’s a madhouse.”

Claude snorted, seeing everyone’s reaction, ranging from laughing, to pure rage at him.

“Well, it’s our little slice of heaven from the Alliance! Thanks for taking the time, professor!”

Byleth silently nodded and went to the Black Eagles class.

(Hilda) “That-”

(Lorenz) “Little-”

(Leonie) “DEVIL!”

Black Eagles

Dorothea and Petra saw Byleth walk in and waved hello at him. He began to walk over to her as she introduced herself.

“Greetings. My name be...IS, Petra.”

“Hey, my name’s Dorothea. You must be Byleth, right?”

“I am. Nice to meet you two. Can you tell me about this class?”

Dorothea explained the very basics of the empire, considering she was a commoner and not of high status.

Petra explained that she was a transfer student, and studying their language.

"I see. I will speak to your classmates for more info, but thank you very much, Petra and Dorothea. Please excuse me, but it was a pleasure speaking to you.”

He walked off towards Caspar and Linhardt.

“What a precious little kid! To think he might be our professor!”

“I know right? He was much polite for someone his age.

Caspar and Linhardt turned to Byleth as he walked near them.

“Huh? You lost kid?”

“That’s not just a kid, Caspar, that’s the new professor.”

“Huh? Is that sarcasm I hear, Linhardt?!”

“It’s not...Frankly, I’m as surprised as you are.” Linhardt said.

“That being said, you must be exceptionally intelligent to be teaching at this age.”

“Hmph.” Byleth replied. “Care to tell me about yourselves?”

“Well, I’m Caspar, and that’s Linhardt. I’m here to train as a warrior!”

“I’m here to research whatever interests me...”

“Care to elaborate?” Byleth asked.

“Ah, I’m sorry but...I am quite tired and cannot spare the time to-”

“Horribly lazy, got it.” Byleth said turning to Caspar.

Though that was very true, that still hurt.

Caspar laughed and crossed his arms.

“I like you, Byleth! Hope we see more of you!”

Byleth nodded and went towards Ferdinand.

“Hello, you’re the new professor? I am Ferdinand Von Aegir, son of the most famous household in the Empire, and rival of Lady Edelgard herself!”

Byleth looked at Ferdinand interestingly for a moment, until he properly examined him.

“All due respect, you wouldn’t even be able to contend with me, mister Ferdinand.”

“What the?! I wouldn’t be able to contend with a mere child?!”

Byleth sighed, realizing he just found another Lorenz-type.

“You may be the son of Sir Jeralt, but that is quite arrogant of you!”

“Please elaborate the differences of mine vs yours with Edelgard. I’d hesitate to even call you a bench-warmer.”

Everyone was taken completely aback, overhearing their conversation.

Byleth bowed and turned away.

“My apologies for such a rude statement. Please excuse me, I am on a schedule.”

He walked away, Ferdinand at a loss for words.

“...What...What’s with this sassy child?! This is to be a professor?!”

He went towards Hubert who had been watching him closely the entire time.

“You...you’re dangerous.” Hubert said calmly.

Byleth stared back at him, not being intimidated by his presence.

“Yourself as well. You know who I am, so what is your name?”

“Hubert. I am the aide to Lady Edelgard. I trust you have met her already.”

“Indeed. She spoke highly of you.”

They stared each other down, the aura that both of them were radiating was enough to make a warrior drop his weapon out of fear.

“I hope to see you in action soon, Professor.”

“You too, Hubert.”

They both nodded and Byleth left to go talk with Bernadetta.

Though it was a mutual respect, everyone was sure they were planning how to murder each other already.

Bernadetta was facing a corner, hoping not to get noticed.

“Please don’t see me! Please don’t see me!”

“Excuse me-”

“EEEEK! I’M...O-Oh, it’s...a child.”

“If I may ask, who were you hiding from?”

“Oh, well I heard that the new professor was SUPER scary! And I didn’t want to him to talk to me because well...I’m not great with people, little guy. Hopefully he’ll overlook me.”

Everyone stared at Bernadetta, she didn’t realize that she was basically insulting the professor right now.

Byleth however found this entire situation...amusing. His face went something like this.

I like this one...

“May I ask your name?”

“Huh? Oh uh, it’s Bernadetta. What’s yours?”

“Byleth.”

He turned around still wearing a small smile as Bernadetta’s smile slowly disappeared and turned into an open mouth of horror.

As he left to go find Jeralt, he heard Bernadetta let out a wail, realizing what she had just done.

Audience Chamber...

Rhea, Seteth and Jeralt were waiting as he walked back in.

“Hey kid, how’d it go?”

“Was alright.” Byleth replied standing by his dad.

“Hello, Byleth. Have you made your decision?”

“...Miss Rhea? May I speak freely for a moment?”

“Of course, dear-”

“They’re all idiots.”

Rhea’s eyes widened while Seteth gasped audibly. Byleth stood still not really knowing what he said was very rude.

Jeralt however, began laughing his ass off.

810 notes · View notes

thepandapopo · 5 years ago

Text

Sylvix Week 2020 Day 1: Wedding

Synopsis: No matter what world or what timeline they exist in, Felix and Sylvain will always find each other.

Byleth becomes an omniscient immortal goddess that lists her top three favourite SylVix weddings that span across a variety of alternate universes and worlds.

You gave me a wedding prompt and I gave you a three for one deal.

Written for Sylvix Week 2020

AU in which all the canon stuff happens but Sothis is actually the goddess of multiple universes and when Byleth merges with her, she gets to see Sylvix reincarnated in world after world, but no matter what they always find each other. This is her POV recalling her three favourite weddings.

The pirate one was definitely inspired by Pirates of the Carribean because that scene was so ridiculous and all I could think about was how it was SylVix level dumb.

There are not many things in this existence that Byleth finds beautiful, not anymore at least. After living for centuries upon centuries and in worlds that one could only dream of, it was safe to say that Byleth had pretty much exhausted all there was to see in terms of beautiful things.

But one thing she will always watch over fondly and with such heart rending piety that makes her wonder if perhaps there is a god even greater than her, is the way Felix and Sylvain’s souls always find their way back to each other, regardless of what life, regardless of what world, and regardless of what circumstances shape them.

----

The first world that Byleth has the pleasure of attending their wedding is in her original life. It is the life that she remembers the most vividly and fondly, back when everything was so new and yet not because of the soul of the progenitor god that resides within her.

The cathedral in Garreg Mach is strewn with swathes of teal and maroon fabrics, hanging from the ceilings in graceful arcs interspersed with pristine white. Blue and Red Salvia pepper the towering columns in the empty pockets where the ivy parts way to reveal long expanses of white stone, restored over years of hard work and loving care.

At the base of the altar near the head of the room, Byleth stands tall and proud as the officiant of this historical event, the joining of two territories through marriage in the traditional sense, but also so wholly untraditional in the fact that it is a Duke and Margrave committing to each other in a gesture that has nothing to do with politics and everything to do with building a future free of unspoken rules and obligations.

“Stop fidgeting,” Ingrid hisses at Sylvain from her position as Best Maiden. She is a vision herself in her Gautier red gown that is just practical enough that Hilda and Annette didn’t have to blackmail her too much into wearing.

Across from her, Dimitri – Felix’s Best Man - is also staring at the shifty groom who looks like he is half a minute away from bursting into either hysterical laughter or tears. It’s a bit of an odd sight seeing the King of Fodlan not standing center stage for once, but just for today, he has gladly traded in his royal garments for a simple, but smart looking military style get up (not unlike their old school uniform) in Fraldarius blue.

And in the middle of all of them standing right by Byleth’s side is their very own Sylvain Jose Gautier, dressed in his finest linens with a black jacket lined with crimson fur and golden thread. Draped across his front is an expanse of teal cloth that sweeps back over his shoulders and billows out in a magnificent cape emblazoned with both the Gautier and Fraldarius crests. Although Sylvain has always looked noble in his own way, his roguish grin has always softened the edges of his appearance with a mask of carefree immaturity. Today though, he looks every bit the mature esteemed war general turned Margrave; his shoulders are pulled back and he stands tall even though they all know that there are more than a few individuals in the crowd who oppose this marriage. Standing next to him, Byleth can literally feel the air of assured confidence that a person exudes when they know that they are doing something so fundamentally right, that there is no way that it isn’t fate.

If anyone had told them that Sylvain would be the first person among them to be married, a trip to the infirmary for hallucination would have been the follow up course of action. But here, standing at the altar under the beaming mid afternoon sun streaming through the windows, there is nothing that seems more natural.

Even if Sylvain won’t stop fidgeting.

“Sylvain,” Dimitri’s eyes are wide with suspicion and dread, “you’re not getting cold feet, are you? Goddess, Felix will kill you.”

“Yeah, and not even the pretend kill either. He’s going to really, truly run you through with his favourite sword. That you happened to get him, might I remind you.” Ingrid elbows him again, the sharp pain a gentler reminder of what pain he might be subject to in the near future if he really is considering ditching his own wedding. In the middle of the ceremony. With hundreds of guests around them.

“No, I’m not getting cold feet.” Sylvain rolls his eyes and tenderly rubs his ribs where Ingrid keeps jabbing him. “I’m just… I don’t know. I’m impatient. We’ve been standing up here forever.”

And of course, in typical Felix fashion, he just has to be proven wrong when the massive oaken doors at the entrance of the cathedral open with a groan, just barely audible over the swelling sound of the music changing and the rustling of clothes as their guests stand to welcome in the other groom.

The first time that Byleth gets to witness Sylvain’s entire world fall apart and click back together like two perfect puzzle pieces, is when he catches sight of Felix, led down the aisle by a beaming Annette, and breathtakingly resplendent in all white.

Blown out pupils obscure burnt sienna as they rake over the vision that is Duke Fraldarius walking slowly towards him with what looks to be the most obnoxiously long dress coat ever tailed. It clings to his lithe form sinfully from his shoulders down to his hips in such a way that coax’s Sylvain’s tongue to swipe across his lips, before draping and flaring back in a style reminiscent of a bridal train. The very same golden stitching that weaves through Sylvain’s jacket also glows ethereally in Felix’s clothes, which only serves to emphasize the silky midnight waterfall that has been tamed and woven into a side braid. Atop his crown sits a golden circlet that dips and meets in the center of his brow, adorned with a topaz flanked by two garnet rubies.

It is the first time that Byleth prays to the goddess and thanks Sothis for allowing these two souls, who are just so right for each other, to finally, finally get the happiness they so deserve.

When Felix’s golden gaze finally flutters up beneath inky lashes to meet Sylvain’s, the air in the room charges with tangible electricity and chuckles murmur through the crowd as both Ingrid and Annette reach out simultaneously to stop their respective grooms from bolting towards each other.

By the time Annette hands Felix off to Sylvain, both men are staring at each other with such blatant reverence and awe that Byleth almost feels bad for clearing her throat and ruining the moment.

“Dearly beloved, thank you all for gathering here today to celebrate the union of Duke Felix Hugo Fraldarius and Margrave Sylvain Jose Gautier.”

Somewhere to her right, Annette stifles a happy sob and the couple share a small, amused smile.

“The most remarkable moment in life is when you meet the person who makes you feel complete; the person with whom you share a bond so special that it transcends time and space and is something so pure and so wonderful, that you cannot imagine a life or world without them. For Felix and Sylvain, that moment happened back when they were children and too young to know what love meant, but old enough to know how love felt. Many of you know their story already; some of you have had the privilege to walk along side them as they each wrote their tale. But what we all have in common today is that we get to witness the moment when they begin to write their story together.”

Later in the evening, Sylvain will tease Dimitri about how constipated he looked trying to unsuccessfully supress his tears while also desperately trying not to crush the small pouch in his hands that contained Sylvain’s wedding band.

“Now, I do believe that you two have written your own vows. Sylvain, would you like to go first?”

There is a beat after Byleth asks her question before Sylvain can escape the fogginess of his mind that is filled with thoughts of Fe, Fe, Fe and comprehend what is being asked of him.

“It’s in your breast pocket,” Ingrid hisses behind him.

It’s true. Sylvain can feel the folded piece of parchment tucked snugly against his chest above his heart, but there is something in Felix’s mesmerized gaze that stays his hand and sends it reaching instead for smaller, scarred and callous ones.

“Felix…” his breath escapes him like a prayer. “My darling and dearest Fe.”

Honey brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears and Sylvain feels his chest tighten, squeezing out the lyrics of the song his heart has long been singing, but never aloud.

“For a person who has always had a silver tongue, it’s a wonder how you manage to steal all the words from me every single time. I could still try to wax poetic about how lovely you are or how lethal you look with a blade in your hand, but I feel like if I do either or those, you might just stab me.”

A soft snort and misty glare confirm his suspicion and Sylvain lets out a watery chuckle.

“Do you remember the promise we made as kids? Back then, we didn’t really know what it meant to die together, but we promised each other that anyways because the only thing we knew for certain was that we didn’t want to live without each other.”

Sylvain’s lungs burn with the effort it takes to inhale through the sobs that want to escape him. The rapid thumping of his heart threatens to burst out of his chest, and it nearly overwhelms him before a gentle hand brushes away a stray tear that has managed to escape its confines. Unwittingly, more tears fall even as Sylvain grounds himself with Felix’s touch and forges on.

“Fe, I have loved you for a very long time, even though I may not have known it. I have loved you since we were young children and you would sit in my lap for hours as I read story after story to you. I have loved you since we were old enough to train together and you would trounce me spectacularly even though I had the weapon advantage and you were such a scrawny brat. I loved you even through Glenn’s death when you shoved everyone around you away, building up the walls around your heart that I wanted so desperately to see again. I loved you when we met again at the officer’s academy and I tried to drown my problems in women and empty dalliances, and even through the war where I was so terrified that you would die before I could ever confess my feelings for you.

But Fe… despite how long I’ve loved you, I vow to you today that I will continue to love you for even longer in the years ahead. Dying is easy, but living is so much harder, and so that is why I want to build on our promise and vow to always stand by your side and live the rest of my life with you. I have loved you all my life, Felix Hugo, and I cannot imagine what my life would be without that constant. It grows each and every day, filling my heart more than I ever thought possible. Goddess… I love you Fe. I love you so very much, my beloved, and I hope that one day I’ll find the perfect words to tell you that, but for now, before all these people, I give you my heart and soul because it has always been yours from the start.”

Sylvain’s heart aches with the raw truth and gravity of his words that are so filled with love, bursting from his heart and overflowing from his eyes only to be brushed away gently by the very man who encompasses his thoughts every minute of every day. But despite how shaky his breath is, Sylvain’s hands are steady as he slips the onyx band onto the ring finger of Felix’s left hand.

“Felix? Would you like to read your vows?” It is dead silent in the cathedral, save for the few sniffs and hiccups from their closest friends.

“Sylvain.”

Byleth can see the moment that Felix steels his resolve in the same way he does right before entering battle. Right now, Felix is fighting his own demons, but he is determined to win because he owes it to Sylvain to be just as raw and open as he has laid himself out to be.

“Sylvain. I… we both know that I’m not good at words, but I want to try, for you, because I know that sometimes the voices in your head try to convince you that you’re not worthy of love, and I want to shut them up once and for all by laying everything bare in front of all these people.”

It’s funny and honestly a little bit unfair, Felix thinks to himself, how Sylvain still looks so breathtakingly beautiful even while dripping snot and fully on ugly crying.

“I’m not a good partner, Sylvain. And before you interrupt me, just shut up and listen to the rest of what I have to say. I’m not a good partner because unlike you, I don’t know how to use my words to communicate my feelings. No matter how hard I try, it always comes out sharp and… and wrong. But even though I’m just so fucking awful at it, you somehow always seem to understand me.” Felix pauses to steady his breathing and blink away the tears that are beginning to blur his favourite view.

“I honestly never thought I could have this. I didn’t think there was a future for us because I was so sure that one day you would get fed up with me and leave. But you didn’t. No matter how much I pushed you away, or how many insults I threw your way even though what I really wanted to say was the complete opposite, you always stayed there by my side through thick and thin. And what’s more, you always understood what I was really trying to say.

I hate illogical things. I hate the idea of dying for someone or doing something I hate just because someone else happens to like it. But you… Sylvain, you make me want to do all of those things.”

Felix falters a little, swallowing the lump in his throat that wants to stop his closest guarded secret from slipping out.

“It doesn’t make any sense and it honestly frustrates me just how unwaveringly confident I am that I would die for you in a heartbeat. I would willingly go to those operas that you love so much even though I can’t stand them just so I can see that one smile that makes the world around me fall away. With you, I want to do the things that I’ve always shunned. I want to get married to you. I want to become your husband. I want to adopt children and raise a family with you. I want to grow old with you and spend our days sitting in front of a fire watching our grandchildren run around causing all sorts of mayhem that they probably learned from you.”

“So today, I will vow to you to live with you through whatever bullshit might come our way. I vow to love you until our dying breaths and beyond. But the greatest vow I will make you today, is the vow to lay down my blade and put to rest any lingering thoughts of becoming a mercenary because… because a life with you… loving you… I want that more than anything in the world. I love you, Syl.”

All around them, their friends beam at them through tears and, in Annette and surprisingly Dimitri’s case, elated blubbering. Felix wastes no time grabbing the ring from his king and slipping it onto Sylvain’s ring finger because one minute longer not being married to his favourite idiot is one more minute wasted.

No one cares that Byleth doesn’t even get to say her final line prompting them to kiss because they both lunge at each other at the same time, the crowd around them cheering and whooping, their voices echoing through the halls and much longer in Byleth’s memories.

----

Byleth’s second favourite wedding between Felix and Sylvain is unfortunately not one that she gets to officiate.

Instead, she’s busy parrying the downward strike of a soggy half pirate, half sea creature and returning a blow of her own and painting the floor beneath them a murky ink color as she cuts into its shoulder. Their ship has been boarded by Davy Jones’ and they barely have time to fire an SOS flare into the sky before they are overrun with the cursed pirates.

“Did someone call for backup?”

Sylvain’s hair is plastered to his forehead from the salty spray, but his crimson hair is still more than easy to spot from where it pops up from their starboard side where his own ship has anchored itself to the Aegis. His men let out a mighty battle cry as they dash across the wooden planks connecting their ships while others swing in from above on ropes hanging from the towering mast.

“You’re late, you fucking asshole!” Felix shouts above the sound of his handheld pistol firing straight into the face of an unfortunate pirate. The thick clam like shells around his body is explanation enough of why Felix is using his gun instead of his sword which he favors.

“Aw, Fe. Don’t be like that! You know I’d never ignore a distress call from you!”

“Then next time answer it sooner!”

Felix ducks when Sylvain jumps off the ledge over him and thrusts his own sword into an enemy that had been sneaking up behind him. Despite being rival captains of their own pirate ships, Sylvain and Felix fight like a well-oiled machine, slipping in and out of each other’s space and covering any blind spots that are exposed. It’s a bit odd seeing them fight in such a different style, but Byleth still admires the fierce skill in which Felix takes down his opponents while Sylvain always approaches more cautiously, using tactics and ploys that befit his strategic mind.

Absolute chaos reigns around the two of them and the clashing of swords peppered intermittently with the loud cracks of gunpowder igniting fill the air. The smell of the sea all around them is thick with the lingering smell of burnt sulphur and even more so the irony tint of blood.

“Are the two lovebirds bickering again?” Claude grins at Byleth as he sidesteps a tackle and plunges his blade through the back of the stumbling figure. His Golden Deer cape billows out as he turns and the bright yellow is a beacon of hope to the rest of their crew. Normally, Byleth herself would be wearing one as well, but she has been on loan from Claude and spending the past month or so aboard the Aegis with Felix helping him navigate some truly terrible waters.

“Yes. Although I do wish they would find a better time to do so.” Claude can practically hear her eye roll which just makes it all the more amusing to him.

“Byleth, you wound me! There’s never a better time for… well, anything really, than the present!” Sylvain laughs, but immediately grimaces when the body whose head he lopped off drenches him in black ichor.

Beside him, Felix looks at the new stains on his already disgusting pants and scowls. “Be more careful, you idiot! I can’t save you if you poison yourself by accidentally ingesting some of that toxic shit.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, regret burns through him and ignites his cheeks with flames.

“Oooh. Is Felix Fraldarius actually worried about me?”

“Shut up before I run you through with my sword.”

“You wouldn’t do that, Fe. Because you loooooove me.”

“Sylvain. I swear I’m going to-“

Suddenly a body goes sailing past them and Hilda stomps out from below decks where she has clearly fought her way out of. She points her axe menacingly at the two captains and if Felix didn’t just see her send a full-grown man six flying feet, Felix would have laughed. “If you’re not going to fight, then at least kiss already. We’re all sick and tired of you guys polluting the high seas with your stupid, angsty, rival love.”

“Well just because you’re bitter that your brother chases away all your-“

Sylvain doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Hilda swings her axe in a side swipe. It’s only from years of fighting that the red haired captain is able to duck in time, letting the blade of the axe connect with a unsuspecting enemy instead.

“Okay, okay! Touchy subject. I get it.”

Thankfully, their squabble fades into the chaos as they double down to repel the ghostly abominations from their ships.

However, like all the other worlds and lives in which Byleth has known Sylvain, he just can’t seem to keep his mouth shut for very long and is calling out for Felix even while more enemies somehow appear from the depths of the sea, truly outnumbering them two to one now.

“Hey Fe! Marry me.”

“What?”

“Marry me!”

There’s an awkward pause, only punctuated with Felix quickly shoving his sword into an oncoming enemy.

“Sylvain, this is not the time!”

“Come on, professor! Things are looking kinda bleak and I don’t really want to die without having married Fe.” Sylvain grins and shoots another enemy over his shoulder without even looking. “and plus it would totally boost morale!”

“I’m not marrying the two of you right now. Felix hasn’t even said yes yet, for crying out loud!”

Seriously, Byleth thinks to herself, she is getting way too old for this shit.

“Claude! If you won’t marry us, then Claude can! He’s a captain too, right?” Sylvain shouts up at the golden garbed leader who is sniping people from the safety of the foretop.

“Consent, Sylvain! Consent is important!” Hilda screams.

Another enemy falls from behind Felix and he turns to face Sylvain who has the biggest shit eating grin on his face. “Well, Fe? What do you say? Wanna get hitched?”

There’s a beat.

And then another.

And then,

“Claude. Marry us.”

Sylvain’s smirk is bigger than the time he struck literal gold.

“Gladly!” Claude laughs and doesn’t even blink as he shoots down enemies left and right. “Deerly beloved, we are gathered here today to-“

“Fuck your deer puns! Just get to the important shit.”

Clearly, Pirate Captain Felix is a lot less patient than Duke Felix. Or perhaps it is more to do with their current circumstance than the actual virtue.

“Jeez, fine fine! Uncultured swine, the lot of you, truly. Do you, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, take Sylvain Jose Gautier to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and in health, in scurvy and even at the bottom of Davy Jones’ locker?”

“I do.” Each word is punctuated by a sword slash and the enemies around their odd band of allies begins to thin.

“And do you, Sylvain Jose Gautier take Felix Hugo Fraldarius to be your lawfully wedded pirate booty husband? To treasure him more than literal treasure? To have him in all his grumpy glory and to hold him even when he threatens to stab you?”

For someone who is very likely to die in the next ten minutes and also covered in guts and ichor, Sylvain is incredibly happy when he chirps back a gleeful “I do!”.

“Then, by the power vested in me by the guy whose ship I stole after I killed him, I now pronounce you husband and husband. So fucking kiss already.”

It’s by no means their most glamourous wedding, but Byleth can’t help but remember fondly on the matching grins on Felix and Sylvain’s faces as they kissed in the middle of that god forsaken hell of a boat, looking for all the world like the two puzzle pieces that have always fit together perfectly no matter what color or shape they may morph into with the crossing of time and dimensions.

It is such a shame really, that their small moment of respite and happiness breaks when a terrified voice pierces through the cacophony of sound.

“KRAKEN!”

----

Byleth’s third favourite Felix and Sylvain wedding is one where she unfortunately doesn’t get to be there with them, no matter how much her heart aches. Instead, she watches them from above, in a space that no mortal (and honestly not even any god) can truly begin to comprehend nor describe.

“Close it, close it. Hurry the fuck up!” Felix’s voice echoes in the dilapidated church even though his voice is hardly louder than a whisper. “We can push the pews up against the door to bar it.”

Sylvain is exhausted and his chest is heaving from being on the run for the past day and a half, but he nods and gets to work anyways, heaving the heavy wooden benches over to where Felix is bracing his shoulder against the door in case any undead try to get in.

It takes a good while before either man feel safe enough to leave the door unattended. In a world overrun by zombies, there aren’t any second chances or lessons learned – one slip up is all it takes for death, or worse yet, turning into the undead.

When Sylvain’s heart and mind finally slow down enough to observe their surroundings, he wants to laugh at the absurd irony of it all. “A church? Seriously, Fe? I’m kinda surprised we didn’t burst into flames as soon as we crossed the threshold.”

“It was the best option. All the other buildings had too many entrances. This one only has the one door and all the windows are boarded up already.”

Felix is already unpacking their travel bag and setting up camp in a far corner away, tucked away from any line of vision from potential cracks in the boards or windows.

“It’s just, I thought you would automatically avoid churches; especially with how our parents tried to raise us.”

It’s a bit of a sore topic between the two of them, both having grown up as close family friend and their parents being extremely religious. Felix more so after his older brother died in the line of duty and Rodrigue fell to religion to cope.

When Felix and Sylvain came out as gay to their families, it was nothing short of awful. The Gautiers had immediately disowned Sylvain, and although he was expecting it – given their track record with Miklan who was also disowned for the same thing – it still hurt and left a large, gaping hole in his heart. Rodrigue on the other hand had only Felix left. Despite their differences, he was reluctant to lose the last family member he had, instead opting to pile brochures after brochures of conversion therapy camps on Felix’s desk until the metaphorical house of cards finally gave way to years of anger and resentment.

If either of them had known that would be the last time they would see their families before the world went to hell in a handbasket, Sylvain likes to think that maybe they would have tried a little harder to keep them in their lives.

“What’s wrong?”

Felix is looking at him with those piercing golden eyes that Sylvain adores so much. Right now, it’s the gaze that Felix uses whenever his curiosity is piqued but he knows not to push any boundaries. It’s because Felix knows when to push and pull, and how to follow the ebb and flow of his mind that Sylvain loves him with every fibre of his being.

“Just thinking,” he hums. He drags a dirt streaked hand through his hair and ignores the grimy feel of the sunset locks. “About how you’re the only family I have. The only family I want.” He clarifies when he sees the strange look on Felix’s face where he is stirring the can of soup over a pitiful fire.

They are silent for a while, letting only the wind whistling through the empty rafters overhead fill the gaps between them. If they were anyone else, the loud echoey hall would have allowed loneliness to slip its way into their space, but they’re not; they’re Felix and Sylvain, the two boys turned men who have always been at each other’s sides from diapers to survivors.

“You’re my family too.”

It’s only a whisper, but Sylvain hears the declaration clear as day and it sends his heart soaring to heights that are only possible whenever Felix is involved. So high, that a random thought manages to worm its way into his head and burrow itself deeper and deeper until Sylvain cannot help but blurt out:

“Have you ever thought about getting married? Us, I mean?”

Felix startles for a moment, staring at him with wide eyes and Sylvain can see the beginnings of a blush sneak its way up his turtleneck collar.

“What?”

“Have you ever thought about us getting married?”

“Where is this coming from? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a zombie apocalypse here.”

Felix isn’t wrong, but his flaw was that he could never really see beyond the immediate task. Which is exactly why they worked so well together – Sylvain, admittedly, was all about smelling the flowers and walking wherever his path took him, while Felix had the discipline and determination to focus in one goal and hound it with unwavering precision.

Instead of answer, Sylvain walks up to the altar at the front of the room and lays a hand against the podium, his fingers dragging through the thick layer of dust and debris, leaving behind a trail of shiny wood that peaked at him from below.

“I’ve always dreamed of marrying you, you know.”

The admission slips from his lips like a dew drop off a petal, slowly at first, but then falling to gravity and splattering on the floor between them leaving moisture pooling at the corners of Felix’s eyes.

“You… wanted to marry me?”

It’s unfathomable. It’s outlandish and impossible and all things incomprehensible but God, if Felix doesn’t want it with a burning passion that threatens to disintegrate him from the inside out.

“Want to marry you. Still do.” Sylvain flashes him that crooked grin that he loves oh so much. So much so that his heart rends every time he sees it and fills him with so much love that he finds himself uncharacteristically stepping off the metaphorical ledge and praying that he can fly with his next words.

“Sylvain. Marry me. Right here, right now.”

This time it’s the red head’s turn to gawk and splutter, and damn if it doesn’t fill Felix with a giddy smugness.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“You heard me. Marry me. We’re in a church aren’t we? Isn’t that all churches are good for?”

Sylvain wants to scold him and tell him that churches are also for praying, but bites his tongue on the bitterness that begins to coat it; Sylvain used to pray, but what’s the point when no one really listens?

(Byleth wants to go to them. She really, truly, does. But even a Goddess is not all powerful.)

Instead, Sylvain wordlessly extends his hand towards Felix and pointedly keeps his gaze to the crumbling statue of Mother Mary and the large cross that hangs ominously over their heads. When he finally feels familiar calloused hands in his, he pulls and Felix allows himself to fall into warm arms that have made him feel loved for so many years.

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius. Words cannot describe how much I love you. You’ve always been there by my side, through thick and thin, and honestly, I don’t really deserve you. But I vow to keep striving to become a person who is worthy of your love. I vow to live my life to the fullest everyday to become a better person for you because you make me want to be a better person.”

Each promise is punctuated with a chaste peck on the lips, each filled with more love than the last until Sylvain is murmuring his words against the plushness of Felix’s mouth.

“I vow to love you until the day I die and to protect you with everything that I am. You are my family, Fe. You are my home. And I will always come back to you – no matter where, when, or what world; I swear, I will always find my way back to you.”

Felix buries one hand in the collar of Sylvain’s fur lined jacket while the other tangles in his hair, trying to desperately pull him closer even though they are already pressed up against each other, chest to chest and hip to hip.

“Sylvain Jose Gautier. You’re an absolute idiot if you don’t know how much I love you.”

(“Fe, why are you insulting me during our vows?” “shut up.”)

“We’ve known each other forever and sometimes I take for granted just how much of my life you occupy until you’re suddenly not there, and all I’m left with is loneliness and a giant Sylvain shaped hole where my heart should be. I vow to never take you for granted ever again, because despite what you think, you are worthy of love, Sylvain. And you deserve to be happy.”

Something wet plops onto Felix’s cheek but he pays it no mind and continues with his vows, keeping his temple pressed against Sylvain’s jawline and his eyes closed.

“I vow to live by your side for the rest of my days so that I can remind you of that when the voices in your head become too loud. But above all, I vow to love you in such a way that lets you be the Sylvain that you really are, wholly and unapologetically so that you never have to hide behind a fake smile ever again. You are my home, Sylvain. I’ll always come home to you.”

When Felix raises his gaze to look at Sylvain, he cannot help but smile fondly at the teary, lovestruck expression on his face.

“You don’t have to cry about it, dummy.” He says, even as he raises himself on his tip toes to kiss away the droplets clinging to wispy lashes.

They stay like that for what feels like an eternity, clinging to each other in this space that they have made their vows and tied their lives together in the way that they should have long ago. They continue holding each other even as the night falls and the chill settles in, and into the morning when the tell-tale sound of unearthly groaning arrives at their doorstep.

“You have my back?” Felix asks completely nonchalantly as he unsheathes his katana and falls into a battle stance that he has long since mastered from after school lessons and then polished in real life survival.

Sylvain grins at his husband from his position perched on the highest ground available, his rifle and scope already set up and a variety of other guns, locked and loaded, littered around him.

“Always.”

----

Byleth dreads the day that Felix and Sylvain’s souls reach the end of their life spans and fizzle into nothingness, dissolving back to the void from which all souls are created and returned. But until that day comes, she continues to watch over them as they are born, and as they grow and fall in love over and over again.

Sometimes she will be allowed to step in and take a more active role in their stories, but in the times that she cannot, she knows without a doubt that they’ll be okay.

Because, after all, even if they weren’t soulmates, Byleth knows without a shadow of a doubt that Felix will always choose Sylvain, and Sylvain will always find his way back home.

XxXxXxXxX

Want to get the latest updates on my progress and fic postings? Check out my writing twitter.

#sylvixweek2020 #writing prompt #marriage #sylvix #sylvain x felix #sylvain jose gautier #felix hugo fraldarius #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fire emblem 3 houses #fe3h #ingrid galatea #hilda goneril #Claude von Riegan #byleth eisner #alternate universe #pirate au #zombie apocalypse au #canon universe

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kumeko · 5 years ago

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Prompt: Marianne/Sylvain, trick or treating, candy, vampire

A/N: For mymhilda for the Fódlan Frights Exchange! I decided to pick the rarest pair out of the ones you sent me, since it’ll be harder to find food for them!

Summary: Marianne didn’t know how Sylvian convinced her to go trick or treating. A vampire, surrounded by humans? It was a disaster waiting to happen, no matter what he said otherwise.

…

The air was cool, the streetlights bright, and Marianne had made a mistake coming outside. There was a reason she stayed inside her dreary mansion, the blinds carefully closed to not even let moonlight in. She hunched over slightly as she walked, glancing at the throngs of people as they walked the streets. It was a miracle none them had noticed her yet. Sure, it was Halloween, and they were all dressed up like ghouls and demons, but even then she stood out like a sore thumb. With her chalky-pale skin, pointy teeth, and slightly inhuman eyes, it was impossible to say otherwise.

Marianne was a vampire after all. A monster. And monsters shouldn’t be near people.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Sylvain asked from her left. His usually bright red hair looked rusty in the dark. His moss-green eyes were trained on her and for a second, her heart skipped a beat.

Well, not really; part and parcel of being undead, she didn’t really have beating heart, let alone a skipping one. Still, that didn’t stop the butterflies that filled her stomach every time he looked at her. It was also the only reason that explained why she’d left the safety of her home to roam the streets—it was almost impossible to refuse him.

“I…” Marianne rubbed her wrist nervously. She averted her gaze, her eyes firmly trained on the ground. “I shouldn’t be out here.”

“Aww, don’t say that.” Sylvain tugged her hand gently, prying it free from her wrist. Without a second thought, he interlaced their fingers and Marianne felt a spark of electricity run up her arm. “You don’t like my company?”

She flushed. His hands were warm and she didn’t want to pull away. “It’s not like that, I’m just…a danger…to everyone.”

“You’re definitely a danger to my heart,” he teased, lifting her hand to press it against his chest. Sylvain winked. “I’m not sure it’s supposed to beat this fast.”

She almost stopped walking. He had to be doing that on purpose; he had to know the affect he had on her. Mouth dry, Marianne shook her head. “That’s not…”

“It’s nice to have a date with you outside for once,” Sylvain added, uncurling his arm till their clasped hands were between them once more. “As nice as your house is, I’ve wanted to take you out for ages.”

Marianne had lived a long life. She had met hundreds of people: smart ones, sly ones, honest ones. Yet, she’d never once encountered anyone quite like Sylvain; someone who was so vibrant and full of life. Someone who always knew just what to say to put her at ease, just how to act to throw her off balance. It made no sense that he visited her day after day, that he’d knocked on her coffin and hadn’t run at the sight of her. No, instead he had done the exact opposite, flirting with her and worming his way into her heart until she didn’t know what to do anymore.

Tucking a lock behind her ear, Marianne murmured, “I wanted that too…”

Sylvain’s eyes widened. Looking entirely too pleased, he squeezed her hand. “Really?”

“Y-yeah…” She couldn’t look away from his bright smile, wondering what she could say to make it stay. “But, with the crowds, I shouldn’t…”

“You shouldn’t?” he prompted when she trailed off once more, his smile soft now.

Tongue-tied, Marianne looked at the small groups of people passing by them. There were a group of kids in front of them, a gaggle of eight that they’d been following slowly for the past few hours. There were small groups of five across the street, kids and their parents heading in both directions. While she could control her bloodthirst, it still felt too dangerous being around this many people. “Why are we here?”

“Trick or treating,” Sylvain answered simply, chuckling. “It’s Halloween, after all.”

“I-I mean…” Flustered, Marianne cleared her throat. “We’re too old for it, right?”

Sylvain was nineteen, after all, and even if someone went by how she looked, she was older than the oldest teenagers they’d seen. They hadn’t gone up any houses yet, to be fair, but Marianne wasn’t sure if that was from a lack of trying or just because she’d been stuck in her thoughts for the past fifteen minutes.

“We’re not the ones getting treats.” Sylvain smirked, gesturing at the group in front of them. Now that she was paying attention, she realized they’d been following this same group the entire time. “We’re babysitting them.”

“Babysitting?” Marianne blinked, not expecting that answer at all.

“That’s the face!” Sylvain’s shoulders shook with laughter as he stopped walking for a moment. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Ingrid made that exact same one when I told her I’d take our neighbours’ kids around. And then she was so suspicious—I couldn’t get her off my case for days.”

Marianne could almost imagine it. The picture Sylvain painted of his friends was a vivid one, she could picture all of them so clearly from his words and photos. “Did she believe you?”

“Well, she does now.” Sylvain started walking again, picking up the pace slightly so they could catch up to the group again. “No one’s died or gone missing, so tomorrow she’s going to owe me an apology.” He frowned, his nose scrunching slightly. “Actually, they all do. Dimitri almost broke a wall when I mentioned it. Even Felix thought I was sick—he actually checked my temperature!”

Even as he whined, there was something terribly fond and affectionate in his voice as he complained about his friends. Sylvain was a man who loved utterly and completely, and it shone through in all of his actions. She couldn’t imagine him actually mad; it felt impossible.

“I guess it does sound odd,” she agreed.

“Not you too!” Sylvain bemoaned, giving her the biggest puppy eyes.

Marianne giggled.

“There’s that smile.” And now all of that love and affection was aimed at her, his expression gentle as he watched her. “I’ve been waiting all night for it.”

Marianne flushed once more, her free hand instinctively covering her mouth. “My fangs—”

“Are perfectly cute,” he replied, carefully prying her hand off. “With all of these costumes, no one’s going to tell.”

Marianne searched his eyes. There were no lies in his voice, in his expression, and she scanned their surroundings once more. None of the kids had given her a second glance, none of their parents were pointing at her, and maybe he had a point. On a night like this, she was ordinary.

An ordinary girl on an ordinary date with the guy she maybe kinda loved. “I guess so.”

“That reminds me…”

“What?” she asked, looking back at him.

Without warning, he leaned forward, stealing a kiss. His lips scorched her and she felt as red as the blood she drank. As he pulled back, he smirked. “I’ve been waiting all night for that too.”

“You…” She buried her face in his shoulder, embarrassed. Despite the cool air, her lips still burned.

“Well, I didn’t have any candy, and you deserved a treat.” Sylvain laughed, utterly unrepentant. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer until he could lean over and whisper, “Want another?”

A shiver ran down her spine as his warm breath hit her ear and Marianne leaned forward, eyes fluttering close as she had her second treat.

#sylvain gautier #marianne von edmund #fe3h #sylmari #sylvianne #fire emblem three houses #fanfic

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roman-writing · 6 years ago

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A Study in Hospitality (3/?)

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses / Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Pairing: Hilda Valentine Goneril / Marianne von Edmund

Rating: T

Wordcount: 7,657

Summary: There’s a new student at camp half-blood. Hilda, daughter of Aphrodite, has been tasked with showing her around. A Percy Jackson and the Olympians AU

read it below the cut, or you can read it here on AO3

Hilda had a weird dream. Weirder than usual, that is.

Normally, there would be flying, or all of her hair and teeth falling out, or being rushed to an event but not being able to find anything in her closet except piles upon piles of Doc Martens. You know. Nightmares. The fuzzy, barely half-remembered kind which she awoke from with a grumbled "- the hell?"

This dream had no fuzzy edges. It was crystal clear, like seeing through a fisheye lens. There was a vaulted stone crypt with an altar shaped like an empty bed, but there were no windows or doors along the walls. She stood in the middle of the room, and every breath was an icy mist, pale clouds from her mouth that faded into nothing.

Hilda shivered. She blinked, and her mother loomed over her. Aphrodite was ten feet tall and utterly inhuman, with eyes like a meadow in spring. She was draped in a pale lilac dress that shimmered when she moved.

"Tell me, darling," she murmured, and placed her hands upon Hilda's shoulders. Hilda had never felt so dwarfed in her entire life as she did in that moment. "How would you like to die?"

"What?" said Hilda, the single word accompanied by a plume of lung-warm mist.

And then Aphrodite's hands were around her throat. She squeezed, and Hilda choked. Reaching up, Hilda tugged at her mother's wrists, but no amount of demigod strength could hope to contend with the real deal.

"My little girl," Aphrodite smiled, and she sounded so soft, her hands like cold dark iron. "Off to be a big hero."

Hilda kicked her feet. She did not know when she had been lifted off the floor, until suddenly the ground was no longer beneath her, and her legs dangled. She gasped for air. Her head swam.

Her mother's voice was a whisper at her ear now. A golden curl of Aphrodite's hair brushed against Hilda's cheek. "Just remember: don't -"

Something knocked against the bed, and Hilda wrenched awake with a wheeze. Her vision still reeled. She clutched at her chest. In the middle of the night, she had tangled herself up in the blankets. Now, she kicked herself free.

"Yo, wake up already," Sylvain said. He leaned a shoulder against one of the posts that held her bunk bed aloft. "Lorenz told me to tell you that this week's chores list are on the corkboard by the door."

Finally rid of the sheets, Hilda sank back down to her bed. Her heart was still racing. "Thank you," she gasped.

At that, Sylvain's eyebrows rose. "Thank you?" he repeated, incredulous. "Are you sure you're feeling okay there, Hilda? I think the last time you said 'thank you' to me when we traded duties for a week so you could get to second base with that blue-haired kid from Ares cabin."

Closing her eyes, Hida inhaled a deep breath. Air had never tasted so sweet. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just -"

She waved at him to leave her alone. He shrugged, and sauntered off without another word.

Dreams with gods weren't exactly uncommon, but Hilda was hard-pressed to remember the last time she'd had one. Most gods took a general disinterest in their half-mortal children. Aphrodite was no exception. Hell, Hida had only ever met her mother in person three times before, and that was considered a rarity even amongst this crowd. Most demigods were lucky to meet their divine parent once in their entire lives. Or unlucky, depending on the circumstances.

Hilda had always considered herself fortunate to be so favoured. Being the favoured kid -- along with Holst -- had always been something to flaunt. After that dream however, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see dear old mom again any time soon. Even if it was just a dream.

Which, of course it was. Just a dream. Just a really weird dream.

With a groan, Hilda clambered out of bed. She yawned, and rubbed at her eyes as she dragged her feet over to the line of self-contained bathroom cubicles at the far end of the cabin. She shut and locked the door behind her. She already had her toothbrush in her mouth, when she caught sight of herself in the mirror, and froze.

Her eyes widened. Toothbrush still sticking from the side of her mouth, Hilda leaned forward to more closely inspect her reflection.

There were bruises at her throat.

The bruises mostly vanished before breakfast. Being a demigod had its perks, like quick healing. But the bruises still managed to freak Hilda out in the meantime.

Seriously. What the hell? Being a demigod was supposed to be about being near indestructible, having cool powers, and doing backflips with swords. Not whatever the fuck this was.

Before she could even reach the dining pavilion however, Hilda was assailed en route.

"Hey! Hilda! Wait up!"

She turned, irritated. The dining pavilion was close enough that she could smell breakfast. Plus, she'd had a pretty shit morning, all things considered. She wanted food.

"What now?" Hilda asked.

Claude jogged up to her. His usual bow was disguised as a garishly coloured headband. Somehow, he managed to make it work; he had enough confidence to pull off even the most outrageous outfits. If Hilda hadn’t known better, she might have thought they were partly related.

He stopped at a comfortable distance from her. "Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"Proving that it can even happen to the best of us." Hilda made a 'hurry up' motion with her hand. "Now, what's up? My stomach is angry today, so make it snappy."

If anything, Claude took on a more relaxed air. "Far be it from me to come between you and a meal. But I'll be quick. It's about Marianne -"

Hilda rolled her eyes. "Gods, not this again."

"Just hear me out." Claude raised his hands and then made a gesture as though parting a curtain for a grand finale. "Poseidon's daughter."

"Really?" Hilda said, her tone flat and completely unimpressed.

"Oh, c'mon! Think about it." He began to tick off items on his fingers. "Causes earthquakes. Loves horses. Suspiciously avoids going into water around others. The trident on the coin you were telling me about."

"A weird broken trident," Hilda corrected.

"Right. A trident. Also, you've got a lot of hickeys on your neck, just so you know."

Even the mention of the bruises fading at her throat made Hilda's blood run cold. She lifted the collar of her shirt, and grumbled, "Yeah. Thanks."

"I thought you weren't seeing anyone right now? The only person I ever see you hanging around with these days is -" And then Claude's eyes widened. "You're canoodling with the new girl?"

At that, Hilda let out a snort of laughter. It was so utterly ridiculous an idea, that it drove the recent memory of her nightmare right from her mind. She clapped him on the shoulder, and hung on as she continued to laugh. "Okay. Thank you. Really. I needed a good laugh."

"Well, if it's not her, then who is it?" Claude's mouth widened into a smirk. "I do see you being cornered by Seteth an awful lot. That would explain things."

Hilda shoved at his shoulder. "Ew! Gross! As if!"

He still managed to take the time to pat her on the back in a manner that was both friendly and patronising at the same time. It made her think of her brother. "It's okay. I get it. He's got the hot dad thing going for him. Some people are into that."

"Okay. I'm leaving," Hilda huffed, and -- true to her word -- spun around in her heel and marched off, nose in the air.

Claude called after her, "Just think about what I said! About Poseidon! And dad bods!!"

"No, thank you!" Hilda waved over her shoulder without looked back, then pushed past one of the draped banners that hung between the pillars of the pavilion.

The pavilion had no official entrances. Shaped like an ancient temple without walls, it could be entered on any side that had a gap between the pillars. The campers within were shielded from the elements by a mixture of magic and long lengths of cloth, each bearing the colours and emblems of the various gods and goddesses represented at the camp. When Hilda passed beneath the banner of Aphrodite, she could smell myrtle in spring, and feel the brush of dove's wings against her skin.

It was early enough in the morning that there were still quite a few people seated at their respective tables. That in and of itself earned Hilda a few curious turned heads and waves in her direction. Normally, she didn't wander into the dining pavilion until the very last second. She would laze around in bed, and then use a late breakfast as an excuse to stave off chores for as long as possible.

Now, she waved back at one or two people. On the walk over to the Aphrodite table however, she paused. Lysithea was just finishing up scraping leftovers into the central brazier. The coals spat and popped, but nothing more. Just as Lysithea was setting down her plate and making to leave the pavilion, Hilda stepped in her path.

"Good morning, Lysithea!" Hilda said, far more peppy than she actually felt, but needs must. "Aren't you looking scholarly today!"

Lysithea arched an eyebrow down at her. She was the youngest in their age bracket, but she was still taller than Hilda, which irritated Hilda to no end. "What do you want?"

Hilda tried for a look of wide-eyed innocence. "Do I need to want something from you? Can't a girl just be nice and say hello? And maybe flirt shamelessly a little?"

"I already have a girlfriend. So, I'm not interested. Thanks." And with that, Lysithea started walking away.

Hilda had to scamper to get back into her path and stop her from going too far. "Okay, okay!" Hilda said, her voice dropping back to its usual timbre. "I may have been hoping to ask you a few questions. But it's because you're soooo smart, and I was just wanting your opinion on something that's been bugging me lately."

Lysithea only squinted in reply.

"You don't belive me?" Hilda asked. And, okay, so maybe she added a little breathless quality to her voice. Some habits are hard to break, alright?

"No."

"Well, don't worry. You're very cute, but you and Edelgard are safe from my many charms."

Sighing, Lysithea checked her watch, which was turned inwards to her wrist. "You have three minutes. Don't waste them."

"Right. To business, then." Hilda squared her shoulders, and cleared her throat. Her voice dropped another note or two, until it more closely resembled comfortable, unaffected speaking range. Also so that other people couldn't overhear. "You know the new girl? In Demeter Cabin?"

"I know of her," Lysithea replied. She crossed her arms, already tapping her fingers.

"Doesn't it seem strange? That she's in Demeter Cabin, I mean. She's not like any other Demeter kid I've ever met before."

"Not everything about the gods and their half-mortal children are as they seem to be," Lysithea said. "You, yourself, for instance seem the epitome of any child of Aphrodite, but people would be foolish to assume you are without cunning."

"Aww, I thought you said no flirting?" Hilda made sure her grin had a flash of dimples.

At that, Lysithea's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, but her glare could cut glass. "Unless you want me to hex you three ways to Sunday, I suggest you continue with your line of questioning. Promptly."

“Geesh! You’re no fun!” Hilda made a face, sticking out her tongue. “Okay. Forreal, though, after that whole earthquake thing, I saw her talking to an owl, and I thought she might be, y'know, inclined towards your family.”

“That’s it? An owl?”

“Well, she can also use weird magic, too! Like you!”

Lysithea rolled her eyes. “Yes, because there is no variation of the skills within my half-siblings, whatsoever.”

“Listen,” Hilda used her very best brook-no-nonsense tone, which was very no-nonsense-brooking to be honest. “She was talking with an owl. And I just want some answers. Don’t you want to know, too? I know you know that something’s weird here. And I know you know that I know that you like knowing things.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Lysithea sighed. “Not all gods have sacred birds. Obviously some of them do. But also some of them have very similar sacred birds. Hestia and Dionysus, for example, with the turtle-dove and dove respectively.”

“Yeah. Okay. But -”

Before Hilda could continue to pepper her with questions, Lysithea interrupted, “Are you sure she was actually talking to the owl?”

Hilda bristled. “I know what I saw!”

“I’m just offering up potential solutions to your problem. Maybe she was just talking to herself, and the owl happened to be there.”

“Both times? When I saw it, and when Raphael saw it?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you think that’s too much of a coincidence?”

“No.”

“Not even just a teensy little bit?” Hilda held up her thumb and forefinger a hair’s breadth apart.

The muscles of Lysithea’s jaw bunched up. “No. Now, unless you have anymore questions -”

“Well actually, I’m so glad you said that, because this paper Manuela gave us on the transformation of demigods into mythological Heroes is really tough, and I was hoping you’d explain to me how the god parent in question chooses their heirs to become -”

“Great. Bye.” Lysithea turned on her heel and stalked off before Hilda could squeeze another word in edgewise.

“Hey! Wait!! Lysithea!” Hilda let her hand drop when it became imminently clear that Lysithea was not going to turn back around under any circumstances, short of a portal to Hell rupturing the earth in twain. Which was a shame, really. Hilda was actually curious about the answer to that question.

Sighing, Hilda shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts, and blinked in surprise. There was a piece of paper rustling against her fingertips. She pulled it out, curious as to what she had left in her pocket -- she didn't recall leaving anything in there. When she pulled it out and unfolded it however, she made a noise of exasperation.

Claude's cramped handwriting read: 'find out more about our mystery girl. ps - give the Poseidon thing a chance. you know I'm right.'

Hilda threw the piece of paper towards the lake. It fluttered in the breeze, and landed against her shin. In a fit of frustration, she picked it up, crumpled it into a ball, and then chucked it again. This time it very satisfyingly landed into the lake, and sank beneath the surface of the water.

When had he even managed to sneak that note into her pocket? It must've happened when they spoke this morning before breakfast. Bastard.

Not that Claude didn't have a point. Poseidon did seem to be a good bet. Something about the idea didn't sit quite right in Hilda's mind, though. Then again, she had never met a child of one of the Big Three gods. So, maybe Claude's theory had merit.

Midway through the week however, it became more and more evident that the last thing Marianne needed was scrutiny. She needed socialisation. At the very least she needed a hug. Though, Hilda was ninety-seven percent sure that Marianne would sooner crawl out of her own skin than let someone give her a hug.

As usual, the two of them were forced to team together for chores throughout the week. On top of that, this week was all about paired activities. About having a buddy, and doing lessons and things with them. Things like: climbing a hundred foot wall in less than two minutes while your partner belayed for you, and canoeing in paired races across the lake, and sparring until either a) their muscles turned to mush, or b) first blood.

You know. Good wholesome camp stuff.

The first day’s activity Hilda was sure they would win. She knew for a fact that some of the Athena and Ares kids had a deadly fear of heights, but Ingrid took the cake in that exercise, beating the rest of them by a good fifteen feet. The second day’s activity they also lost, which meant that Claude's Poseidon theory was looking thin. Hilda made silent faces at Claude across the beach until he shook his head and mimed a response at her.

And the activity on the third day ended with Hilda moaning about being too delicate for this kind of strenuous exercise in the middle of the afternoon. It didn't matter that Marianne kept losing their sparring match on purpose, or that there was still a jagged patch of grey rock in the ground where the arena had been repaired earlier in the week.

By the middle of the sparring lesson, Hilda leaned against her axe, and frowned. "Are you even trying?"

Marianne held her Celestial bronze sword loosely in one hand. Her form was atrocious, but in a way that belied an underlying understanding of swordsmanship itself. Only someone well-trained in the art could do something that terrible. It had to be on purpose.

"What do you mean?"

With one hand, Hilda pushed her sweaty bangs out of her face. "Well, you obviously know how to use that," she said, pointing towards the sword. "But you pretend that you don't. Are you trying to make me feel better by letting me win, or something?"

"No," Marianne mumbled.

"Because, trust me, my ego can take it. It's totally fine."

Marianne's fingers tightened into a fist around the sword hilt. "I never doubted that."

"So, what's the big deal?"

"You underestimate yourself," Marianne said. "You're very strong."

"Thanks. I know. Which is why you shouldn't feel like you need to hold back so much." Hilda lowered her voice slightly. "Didn't we talk about this in the woods the other day? I told you, I'm not made of glass. None of us here are. You're among people like you now, remember?"

Still, Marianne dropped her eyes and refused to meet Hilda's gaze. She nodded in silence, but said nothing.

Hilda hefted her axe to her shoulder, shrugging against the weight as though the heavy Celestial bronze were as light as paper. "Well, come on, then. Hit me with your best shot." She said it in a sing-song tone, and bent her knees slightly as though in anticipation for a blow.

Marianne swallowed nervously. "I don't -" she started to say, but stopped. Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, before she continued, "I don't like hurting people."

"Who said I was going to get hurt, huh?"

After a long pause, Marianne lifted her sword once more. It was a half-hearted attempt at coming en garde, but at least her form was correct this time. Hilda used the flat of her axe to swat Marianne's sword aside. It did not fall from Marianne's hand, but it did leave her wide open for an attack.

Hilda advanced a step forward, forcing Marianne to take a step back in order to keep distance. "Don't be like that. Hit me back. Make me work for it."

Rather than raise her sword, Marianne continued to retreat while Hilda walked towards her. "I thought you didn't like to work."

"Yeah, but there's something about you that makes me think putting in the effort isn't so bad."

Marianne blinked. "Why?"

"I don't know. It's weird. You’re weird. I kind of like it." Hilda shrugged, and swung her axe again.

With movements sinuous as a shadow's Marianne slipped out of Hilda's range, easily dodging the blow. Her sword still hung at her side, held loosely in her hand. They were starting to circle around the other pairs of sparring partners now, moving to avoid anyone. Hilda darted forward, swiping at Marianne with her axe, attack after slashing attack, all of which met nothing but air.

"You know," Hilda said, "Not all confrontation is bad. Sometimes sucking it up, and facing someone down really does make life materially better.”

“I think you and I have had very different life experiences,” said Marianne.

After basically chasing Marianne all the way around the area twice, Hilda could feel the sweat beginning to collect dust and grime from the arena. In stark contrast, Marianne hardly looked like she had done anything more than take a leisurely stroll. Her dark eyes were steady and unblinking, reading Hilda’s every movement with the familiarity of someone who had seen years of combat training.

They had amassed a bit of a crowd. Some of the other campers had stopped their own sparring to watch. Hilda continued to chat casually, even as she swung her axe at Marianne, knowing that her attack would be dodged yet again.

"Have you considered a haircut?"

Marianne stepped to the side, and circled around Hilda, forcing her to flail her axe in a broad horizontal sweep for the follow up attack. "No. Why?"

"No reason. I just think it would look good on you, is all."

"I like my hair long."

"That's fine. You can keep it long. I'm just thinking a trim. Your bangs are hiding your eyes. Bangs are supposed to be a framing device for your face! Not hide it!"

With a thoughtful hum, Marianne actually parried with her blade, but did not counter attack. "I'm not sure."

"I can show you later, if you want?" Hilda offered, while bringing her axe down so hard it buried itself into the arena floor. She had to tug it free with a grunt. "I think you'd look really cute."

"Oh. Well, I don't know about that." Marianne dodged the attempt at flattery with as much skill as she dodged everything else.

"Do I look like I don't know what I'm talking about?"

"No. I think you look very stylish."

"Exactly. Which is why you should totally let me give you a makeover one of these days."

"Hmm," said Marianne dubiously.

"That wasn't a 'no'," Hilda pointed out. She shortened her grip upon her axe to make smaller more controlled movements with it, none of which connected. "Tell you what. Let's play a game. If I can land a hit, then I give you a makeover. And if you disarm me, then you can -- I don't know -- push me into the lake."

"I don't want to push you into the lake."

"Then, what do you want?"

For a moment Marianne mulled that over. She tapped the flat of her sword against her thigh. "Sorbet."

Hilda grinned. "Deal!"

Marianne nodded, and agreed in a far softer tone, "Deal."

This time, when Hilda swung her axe, she feinted. She twisted her shoulders one direction, then changed her footing at the last second so she could bring her axe down to exactly where Marianne had moved. Except this time, Marianne's sword arced up in a gleam of bronze, expertly guided into the groove between axe and handle, so that when Marianne flicked her wrist with a twist, it wrenched the axe handle from Hilda's hands.

Or at least, it would have, had Hilda not hung on to the axe for dear life.

Eyes wide in surprise, Hilda stumbled forward. Faster than even the semi-immortal eye could follow, Marianne reached forward with her spare hand, grabbed the long-handled hilt of the axe above Hilda's own grip, and yanked. At the same time, she delicately planted her foot into the middle of Hilda's chest, and pushed.

The next thing Hilda knew, the air had been knocked out of her, and she was flat on her back.

A dark shape blotted out the sun, and for a moment it seemed that the shadow Marianne cast while standing over her extended across all the earth. She blocked the sun like the moon during an eclipse. It hurt to look at her.

Then Hilda blinked, and the moment passed.

“Sorry,” Marianne said.

She extended her hand in a silent offer. It was the reverse of last week, when Hilda had helped her to her feet. Without thinking, Hilda reached out and grabbed hold of Marianne’s hand, allowing herself to be hauled upright. A few people were clapping and laughing on the sidelines.

“Are you alright?” asked Marianne. Her hand lingered for a second -- as frightfully cold as it had been the last time they had touched -- before she snatched it away.

Hilda smiled. She brushed a hand down the front of her own clothes as if wicking off a bit of water, and in a flurry of magic all of the dirt and sweat melted from her, leaving her as clean and fresh as though she had stepped from a shower not five minutes ago.

"Never been better.” She bent down to pick up her axe from the ground, transforming it back into a pair of sunglasses, which she perched atop her nose to complete the look. “Looks like I owe you an ice cream. Or sorbet. Same difference. Want to leave early, and get some now?”

Marianne stared at her. "Was that -" she asked slowly, "- your plan all along? To leave early?"

"Why, are you accusing me of something, Miss Marianne?" Hilda gasped, feigning offence. Then, she lowered her sunglasses just enough to wink over them. "So. Sorbet?"

The corner of Marianne's mouth twitched, but that may have just been a trick of the light. “Yeah. Okay.”

If there was one single class that Hilda hated most, it was flying class. The act of flying itself wasn't a problem. In fact, she rather liked it. Especially as a means of convenient transport. Like airplanes. Or helicopters. Or maybe hot air balloons, but those were on thin fucking ice.

Riding a pegasus, though? No thank you. She would rather wear gumboots and flannel to the Met Gala.

When Hilda tried to slip away from the class however, she was cornered by Seteth, who was -- unfortunately -- the teacher for that day's lesson.

"Going somewhere?"

Hilda froze. She pretended to cough, and turned around, trying to look as haggard as possible. "Oh, Seteth. I'm so glad you asked. I just feel absolutely awful today. I really should sleep this bug off."

Seteth's ageless eyes never left her face. His expression remained fixed and stern, but in a way that somehow made it seem that he was an instant away from a knowing smirk. Like he could see right through her lies. Which, annoyingly, he probably could.

Damn Titans. Damn pegasi. Damn flying class.

"Now, that is a shame," Seteth said. "Seeing as how, as far as we know, you are the only one Marianne is comfortable touching."

Hilda blinked. "I - uh -? I guess? And also I really don't see how that is relevant."

"Allow me to explain. We are pairing off in today's class, and training for aerial battle manoeuvres." He cocked his head to one side. "Seeing as it would be inhospitable to leave Marianne on the ground while everyone else participated, I was hoping you would do us the kindness of being her partner for this exercise."

"Oh. Well. That's - " Hilda floundered. But before she could even fumble out an excuse, Seteth continued speaking.

"No matter. If you say you are ill, then you are ill."

Surprised and simultaneously suspicious, Hilda said slowly, "Yes."

"Which is why I must ask Mercedes to heal you. To ensure you are in top shape, of course."

At that, Hilda grimaced. Healing magic when you were actually sick or injured was all fine and dandy. But when you weren't actually sick or injured, it felt -- well, bad, to be perfectly honest. Not that it hurt, so to speak. Just that it felt like someone shoving a tube where it didn't belong in the search for whatever it was that acted as the source of your illness.

"That won't be necessary -" Hilda tried to say, but Seteth was already turning to wave Mercedes over. In horror, she watched as Mercedes joined them with a concerned look on her face.

"Mercedes," Seteth said. "Hilda isn't feeling so well, and I was hoping you might assist us, as I do wish for her to partake in today's activities."

"Of course!" Mercedes replied, as cheerful as ever to be helpful in any way.

With a groan, Hilda allowed her face to be grasped between Mercedes' hands, and her vision was filled with white light. After a very uncomfortable moment, in which Hilda felt like a swarm of flies were crawling beneath her skin, Mercedes let her go.

Smiling, Mercedes said, "There. Good as new."

"Gee. Thanks." Hilda had to swallow past the magically induced cotton-mouth.

Mercedes turned to Seteth. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No. Thank you," Seteth said, looking every inch the smug bastard Titan that he was. He wasn't even trying to hide the little smile now. "That will be all."

Mercedes ducked her head in a nod, then trotted back over to the red-haired Athena girl, Annette, and the roan pegasus mare they were going to be riding together. Meanwhile, Seteth continued to watch Hilda. He gestured towards the line of yet unclaimed pegasi. "If you would be so kind."

Grumbling under her breath, Hilda stomped over to where he indicated. Marianne stood apart from the others. Most of the camp members had given up trying to interact with her after a few weeks of being met with awkward silences and constant apologies. When Hilda approached however, Marianne's head lifted.

"Hi," she greeted with a little wave of her hand. "I thought you said you weren't feeling well?"

Hilda sighed, dragging a hand down her face. "Yeah. Well, Mercedes fixed me up, so now I'm back."

"Oh, good. I'm glad."

"Glad? Really?"

Marianne was wringing her hands together, and darting nervous glances at the other campers. "Well, I - one of the other campers came up to me and asked me to be his partner, and I was afraid Seteth would make me do it."

"Would that be so bad?"

Marianne refused to offer any further explanation.

"Who asked you?" Hilda asked.

Marianne pointed, and Hilda followed where she indicated. Claude. Of course it was Claude. He saw them looking in his direction. He smiled and waved.

"He's not so bad," Hilda assured her.

"I'm sure he isn't. He seemed very nice, in fact."

"And?"

"And -" Marianne continued at Hilda's urging. "- I don't like spending too much time around people."

Hilda sighed. "I see we're still not past that. Ah, well. Baby steps."

"What?"

"Nothing. Nevermind." Hilda looked down the line of pegasi, who were idly grazing while waiting to be approached by an assigned pair. "C'mon. The sooner we get this over with, the better."

"Alright."

Students were being herded towards the pegasi by Seteth and his daughter, Flayn. Pairs of campers had being to approach a pegasus, and some of the more animal-inclined members were already mounting. Hilda straightened her pink-lensed sunglasses upon her nose, and perused the quickly diminishing selection.

Minty was unmistakable, with his ivory pale coat and black legs. Hilda made a beeline away from him. There was no way she was going to be saddled with that asshole. Before she could approach the nearest pegasus however, another pair swooped in beside it.

"Hey!" Hilda said in outrage. "Find your own pegasus!"

Both Edelgard, the head of Athena cabin, and Lysithea gave her reproachful looks that were near identical. Followed by Lysithea saying, "I thought that was your pegasus."

She pointed at Minty.

Hilda scrunched up her nose. "Ew! No way! What would give you that impression?"

"Because you are often seen talking to him at the stables?" Edelgard answered, as though that were obvious.

"Yeah. Sure, but that doesn't mean he's mine."

Edelgard and Lysithea shared a look, then a shrug. "If you say so," said Lysithea.

"I just did!"

Behind her, Marianne cleared her throat softly. "Um -? Hilda?"

Hilda turned. "What's up?"

"I think all of the other pegasi have already been taken."

Hilda looked around. Sure enough, Marianne was right. Swearing loudly, Hilda closed her eyes and tilted her head back to the sky. "Why me?" she groaned.

"I'm sorry -"

"No, not you, Marianne." Hilda let out a long frustrated exhalation. Then, squaring her shoulders, she marched over to Minty, with Marianne drifting in her wake like a shadow.

"Hey!" Hilda called out. "Future Glue!"

Two black-tipped ears swivelled at the sound of Hilda's voice, and Minty lifted his head. He was still chewing on a tuft of grass, when his voice filled their heads. "Well, if it isn't my old nemesis, What's-Her-Face. And -" Minty's nostrils flared. "- Carrot Girl."

Coming to a halt before him, Hilda rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. We all have a mutual loathing of one another. What's new?"

"I don't hate you," Marianne said from beside Hilda.

"That's nice," Minty replied. "But you didn't bring carrots this time."

"Uhm, no. Sorry."

He snorted, then lowered his head to keep eating, utterly disinterested in their presence.

"Let me handle this," Hilda said to Marianne, then rounded on the pegasus. "Now, listen up. None of us want to be here. But we have to be, or else that guy -" she jerked a thumb over her shoulder towards where Seteth was helping a frantic-looking Hubert onto the back of a pegasus "- will get mad. So, unless you want to buy a one-way ticket to Horse Hell, or whatever, I suggest you cooperate for the next hour or two. Got it?"

The pegasus swished his dark glossy tail, and at the same time stomped one of his back hooves. After a long moment of grass-chewing and contemplation, Minty finally said, "Fine. Get on."

Well, that was easier than anticipated. Hilda didn't even have to wheedle, which was a shame, really. She felt like her wheedling skills were starting to get a bit rusty, and it was always good to practice on something that was immune to charmspeak.

Hilda held out her hand in a gesture for Marianne to go first. Partly because she was trying to be nice. But mostly because she didn't want to be the one in control of a sentient magical animal. That sounded like way too much responsibility. She'd rather let someone else take the reins.

Not that there were actual reins. Pegasi didn't take very kindly to that kind of thing. They preferred their communication to come in the form of verbal or psychic. Or rude gestures. It really depended on what the situation called for.

Hilda had expected to need to help Marianne up, but Marianne lifted herself atop the pegasus' back with a sudden surge of grace. She shifted slightly once on his back, tugging at her track pants a bit. She still wore Hilda’s ill-fitting clothes; Hilda would have to call up her brother to see what was taking him so long to send new clothes.

At the added weight, Minty shuffled his wings, but otherwise remained still. He continued to eat. On the other hand, Hilda tried to haul herself into place twice before giving up. Being short and trying to mount a big horse creature was the bane of her existence. Marianne extended her hand, and pulled at Hilda's wrist, and Hilda nearly went careening over Minty's back onto the other side. She barely stopped herself, but only by grabbing onto Marianne's shoulders.

Immediately, Marianne stiffened. Which meant Hilda stiffened, and jerked her hands away as if burned. "Sorry."

"It's alright," Marianne mumbled, but she kept her head ducked, and her eyes firmly fixed on the way her fists were clenched around great handfuls of Minty's dark mane.

"Is it okay if I -?" Hilda held out her hands, but did not touch Marianne's waist.

A moment of hesitation before Marianne nodded. Even so, Hilda did not immediately touch her.

From the direction of the stables, Seteth's voice rang out. "Campers, you should now all have mounted your pegasi. I want you to do a lap to the dining pavilion and back, before getting into your pre-determined aerial formations over the lake."

He droned on and on with instructions. Hilda made a miming gesture with her hand that mimicked his incessant talking. Peeking over her shoulder, Marianne saw, and made a funny noise at the back of her throat, before quickly turning back around.

"Don't fly over the forest," Seteth finished with the usual warnings. "And be back in no later than two hours. If you should need assistance, I will be riding behind you. Now, go."

The literal second he said 'go', Minty spread his wings. Previously Hilda had not properly admired the true breadth of his wingspan. He had always kept them neatly tucked up against his flank every time she had encountered him in the past. Now, seated atop his back, his wings spread a good fifteen feet in either direction, and all of a sudden Hilda felt quite small.

When he lifted his head, and then reared up on his hind legs, Hilda wrapped her arms around Marianne's waist with a yelp.

"Is that really necessary?" Hilda asked.

He did not answer. Instead, he charged forward to get a running start, and then his wings swept downwards. With a mighty gust, they were airborne. Air rushed past them as they gained altitude with every downward stroke of Minty's wings.

Hilda kept her eyes squeezed shut. Her hands firmly grasped each other around Marianne's narrow waist, and she had the side of her face pressed against Marianne's back. She could feel the tense of muscle against her cheek, but Marianne did not try to shuffle away or tell her to stop.

It wasn't until they started to travel in a horizontal line again that Hilda dared to open her eyes and lift her head. She nudged the side of her face against Marianne’s shoulder to straighten her sunglasses. They were midway along the pack of other campers, with more than enough room to spare between each pegasus. Hilda relaxed a bit, letting loose a breath she had been holding since they took off.

"You don't like flying," Marianne commented, and it was not a question.

"Not really, no," Hilda said. She looked down at the ground, and admired the view far below. "I mean, I like the act of flying itself. Heights aren’t a problem. If I were flying a plane, it would be totally fine. Or a creature that wasn't, you know, sentient. I just don't trust that a pegasus won't do something dumb just for the hell of it."

"Minty wouldn't do that," Marianne assured her.

"Yes, I would," said Minty.

Hilda pointed at his tufted ears, which were angled back so he could eavesdrop. "Mind your business, asshole."

"You're on my back. You are my business."

"Whatever."

They didn't even make it back from the pavilion for the first lap. As they flew over the lake, Minty glided downwards, drifting far below the other pegasi until they were just a meter or so above the water.

"Hey, uh -" Hilda said, peering up at the other paired groups far overhead. "Why are we flying so low all of a sudden? Not that I don't appreciate standing out from the crowd, but -"

Minty did not answer. Instead, he just kicked his back legs. Hard. Hilda, who had loosened her grip around Marianne's waist, was jostled so forcefully that she didn't have time to even scramble for a better hold. She just fell right off his back and into the water.

Hitting the lake was a cold shock. Hilda struck out at the water, and swam furiously back to the surface. She gasped for air, treading water. Her sunglasses had been dislodged, and she could see the faint glimmer of them sinking into the clear blue of the water below her.

Glowering at Minty, who was flapping his wings to hover in place over her, Hilda spat against the water lapping at her chin. "Oh, you're going to pay for that. Look at my hair! And my clothes! And you made me lose my axe! Do you know how much time I spent making -?"

Minty flapped his wings in such a way that the very tip of his longest flight feathers skimmed the surface of the water, and splashed her in the face.

"You -!" Hilda spluttered. "Asshole!"

She tried to splash him back, but missed wildly. He was too high up to reach. On the pegasus' back, Marianne was covering her mouth with one hand. She was holding back an odd, strangled noise. When it escaped from behind her hand, she quickly turned her head aside to hide her face.

She was, Hilda finally realised, laughing at her.

"Oh you think this is funny, do you?" Hilda asked.

It took Marianne a second to compose herself, and even then her answer sounded strained. "No. It's -” Marianne bit her lower lip, and her voice wobbled suspiciously. “It's terrible. What an awful thing to have happened."

"Uh-huh.” Hilda nodded at the pegasus, and said, “Minty, dump her.”

“What -?” said Marianne.

If a pegasus could grin, then surely Minty was grinning right now. He dropped his back legs, and gave a single strong flap of his wings. Eyes wide, Marianne scrambled at his mane, but couldn’t hold on. She slowly slipped down his back, and plunged into the water a few meters away from Hilda.

Marianne’s head emerged from the water with a gasp. Her hair was plastered to the side of her face, the messy bun beginning to unfurl from its braid at the base of her neck. Hilda lifted a hand, and splashed her. Marianne sputtered. She tread water with the clumsiness of someone well and truly unaccustomed to swimming. Hilda smirked in triumph at the look of absolute shock on Marianne’s face.

“Now who’s laughing? Huh, punk?” Hilda said.

Some indescribable expression crossed Marianne’s face. Hilda watched her go on a face journey -- bewilderment, irritation, amusement -- before landing finally on resolve. It was the most expressive Hilda had ever seen her. And it took Hilda utterly by surprise when Marianne actually splashed her back.

“Oh, it is so on.”

Hilda put a bit more force behind her next splash, spraying a broad stream of lake water right at Marianne’s head. Marianne’s high pitched squeak was well worth another faceful of water pushed back at her. Minty continued to hover and watch their fight until, with Marianne’s help, Hilda managed to grab hold of one hairy pastern and drag him half into the lake. He floundered like a cat in water, flapping wildly until he was in the air once more. But by that point Hilda was laughing so hard she inhaled water and started to cough, while Marianne patted her on the back.

When they finally made it back to shore, they were panting slightly. Marianne clambered onto the beach and sprawled on her back, with Hilda doing the same beside her.

Breathing heavily, Hilda said towards the sky, “I told you I would take you swimming in the lake.”

Marianne laughed aloud, then quickly covered her mouth with her hands to stifle the noise. Her eyes were still crinkled at the edges. The sight hit Hilda like a blow to the chest. Or maybe that was just heat of the sun beating down on them high overhead.

She looked away, and tried not to think about it too hard.

The shadow of a pegasus drifted along the ground nearby, as Seteth landed on the beach. He dismounted, and walked over to them. Arms crossed, he tilted his head. “While I am glad to see you two having such a good time, I am hard pressed to condone skipping a lesson.”

Hilda pointed towards Minty, who had landed further along, and was shaking himself off like a dog. “It’s all his fault, Your Honour. I swear it.”

“Please, do not refer to me as such. That is a very particular title reserved for other deities far outside my jurisdiction.”

In response, Hilda lowered her hand so that it was a half-hearted salute by her head. “Understood, my lord.”

Marianne made that strangled sound again. Her hand was clapped over her mouth, and her shoulders were shaking.

With a sigh, Seteth shook his head. After they received a thoroughly tepid scolding -- which was just enough time for them to start to dry off beneath the noonday sun -- Seteth urged them back into the air to finish the lesson. Before that however, he had a few whispered words with Minty, which neither of them could overhear. Whatever he said must’ve worked though, because the pegasus behaved for the remaining hour or so.

It wasn’t until they were back at the stables that Marianne’s usual sombre air returned. It was incredibly out of place with her rumpled clothes, and the coils of hair that had slipped from their trappings and curled gently at the nape of her neck. Still, her dark eyes were warm when she offered Hilda a little wave of goodbye as they parted ways for the day.

Hilda waved back, “See you tomorrow!”

Her hand was still held halfway in the air as she watched Marianne walk off towards the cabins.

When someone clapped Hilda on the back, she nearly leapt out of her skin. Claude came up from behind, and draped his arm around her shoulders so they could watch Marianne glide away together.

“Good trick with the water,” he said, and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Now, we can cross Poseidon off our list.”

“Right,” she replied without any real feeling. Not once did she take her eyes off Marianne’s retreating form. “Yeah, I totally meant to do that.”

Hilda half expected Marianne to turn back, to steal a glance over her shoulder. She didn’t.

#marianne von edmund #hilda valentine goneril #hilda/marianne #marihilda #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #roman writes

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non-fantasy · 6 years ago

Text

holy shit.

okay.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

hilda just tends to drag dimitri around whenever she thinks he needs a break and do whatever. everything from shopping trips to eating out to just sitting and chatting together. she’s taken to trying to teach him how to make jewelry recently

dimitri goes along with hilda’s decision because honestly? he’s just happy spending time with her? but on the times he does decide what they’re doing, it’s either something to make her happy like a meal at a restaurant she likes or taking a walk or training together lol

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

hilda actually is secretly a huge romantic under her “lol” attitude! she would get really embarrassed if she ever had to admit it but she just really likes... dimitri... how he’s so nice and knightly and sweet and cute???? like she admires that attitude but sometimes it scares her because oh no, he might self-sacrifice...

dimitri admires how hilda is so loyal to her friends and really kind and brave despite her worries but he just!! really wants her to realize how incredible she is!!!!

(does this question mean physical appearance too? oh whoops.)

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

hilda reminds dimitri that she’s there and she will listen! on really bad days she will just be hugging him as he’s crying.

hilda has a bad habit of framing her insecurities really casually? she says this thing about how she might disappoint everyone but she doesn’t seem all that upset about it. dimitri is really awkward but he reminds her that he thinks the world of her and that he’s also there for her. one time he hugged her to comfort her and hilda just completely forgot that she was upset because goddess her boyfriend is cute

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

lol neither of them want to imagine a future together at first because of their insecurities?

but then as they actually get better at that, hilda’s view is most just that they still relax together, but they’re also... completely mushy and in love... we’re talking birthday bouquets... casual kisses... everything...

meanwhile dimitri’s view? is like. he cares less about hilda reciprocating and more about doing things that will make her happy. his future is just sometimes giving her gifts and seeing her smile and telling her earnestly that she’s wonderful. he doesn’t even realize it’s possible for her to like him back until after they get together.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

dimitri is mostly passive because uh, insecurities. he’s honestly baffled hilda likes him back at all in the beginning, so he tries not to be too selfish because that might make her hate him :c hilda is more dominant but then she tells him to be more selfish with his desires and tell her what he wants

they become more equal but hilda still has an edge over him, but it’s because she’s the one dragging him to sleep and not letting him overwork himself.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

i’m legitimately trying to come up with scenarios where they fight and the only one i can come up with is “dimitri!!! STOP ALMOST DYING TO PROTECT ME” and that ends with hilda bursting into tears and begging him not to sacrifice himself for her. he apologizes and she tells him that she will only forgive him if he promises not to do that

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

dimitri is so fucking grateful??? all the time????? every time she does anything.... every time hilda helps him or smiles at him.... he’s so fucking grateful.........

hilda is also grateful for how dimitri keeps trying to make her feel happy and she expresses her gratitude by helping him but this makes him feel grateful and try and repay her and this is an endless loop

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

dimitri tries to hide just how badly he’s been traumatized and depressed at first but slowly starts trusting hilda with that information. hilda doesn’t really hide much? one of the biggest secrets she’s hid from him is that she accidentally broke one of his lances and immediately tried to fix it but ruined it even more so she just had to say that it got lost

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

lol that’s the entire thing with them? hilda helping dimitri out of depression and trauma with friendship and love.

obviously not just that. she helps him sleep better and make more friends and stop overworking himself, which contributes greatly to it.

on hilda’s side, dimitri helps her stop being so scared of disappointing people and believe in herself more!

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

listen... dimitri is a prince.... he’s strong and hot and smart.... he’s probably had more than a few admirers.... so hilda just hugging his arm to his chest and being cute is just hilda reminding them that he’s off-limits, okay?

meanwhile hilda has a fuckton of admirers and also is friends with claude “casually flirts with my teacher” von riegan. at first dimitri was insecure because “i don’t even know why she likes me in the first place” but as he starts having the self-esteem? he’s just going to be hugging hilda and resting his head on top of hers as she’s talking to people. angrily hugging her.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

dIMITRI IS SUCH AN AWKWARD KISSER AT FIRST GOD

hilda went to kiss him on the cheek but then he turned and she accidentally kissed his lips. that was their first kiss.

but seriously it takes so long for dimitri to warm up. he’s awkward and has trouble initiating and he’s doing his best and hilda loves him for it.

after they got more used to it? hilda is more casual with her kisses, but also, she’s tiny. she compensates for the sheer difficulty of kissing dimitri on the lips most of the time by kissing him on the hand, neck, back, all the more easily accessible places. she has attempted to kiss all of his scars before.

dimitri on the other hand does it less often but he almost always goes for the lips. either real slow and tender or uh. super aggressively, lol.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

it’s either dramatic blood-covered dimitri screaming that “you can’t die! i love you!” or just. they’re just sitting together, relaxing, and then hilda quietly says “i love you” and dimitri? is surprised by how calm he is when it happens. he takes her hand and says he loves her too.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

it’s fire emblem, they’re bound to get married. and they really wanted to, too.

dimitri managed to be very nervous but pull out a ring anyways, which makes hilda pause. he panics and thinks she’s trying to reject him but then she just pulls out the ring she got for him.

their marriage is just like. hilda as queen? yeah she’s doing her part but there are days she just stays in bed. they aren’t that common because she has learned that dimitri can and will work all day if she’s not there. she works to keep dimitri from being crushed by the workload alone and also so she can drag him to bed when they’ve done enough.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

they just use their names for each other. hilda’s probably one of the only people to call dimitri by his name at all.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

their mutual pining has been obvious to the entire school for so fucking long.

dimitri is even more shy and awkward than usual. he tries to give hilda a gift and winds up asking her to a sparring match because that’s just what his mouth blurted out.

hilda! is trying so hard to act casual but sometimes her mouth slips and she flirts by accident. she is so quick to dismiss it as a joke.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

at first? they’re actually kinda shy because “holy shit you like me back?”

hilda is braver tho and starts holding hands more easily. sometimes hugs. dimitri gets more and more brave over time and then eventually gets to the point where he thinks nothing of bridal carrying hilda whenever she jokingly complains about being too tired to walk. in front of everyone. even hilda got embarrassed by that.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

hilda remembers a lot of lullabies since she needed them a lot when she was younger. it’s useful because dimitri likes her singing voice and maybe for after..?

dimitri is surprisingly good at massaging. only hilda, tho. one time he tried to massage sylvain’s wrist and wound up breaking it.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

dimitri is very cliche but he’s doing his best!!!!!! he gives her flowers (because she said she liked them) and loves her a lot!

hilda is more creative. she accidentally shaped jewellery-makers for generations with her gifts to dimitri

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

hilda is on the fence because on one hand yeah she does love and support dimitri but on the other hand, dimitri? please don’t destroy yourself for revenge. don’t do that. please?

dimitri absolutely supports and believes in hilda. without a fucking doubt. he would die for her (hilda voice: STOP)

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

they like the peaceful routine of working and relaxing and hanging out with friends. the things they do to spice it up are usually just trying a new place to eat.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

they’re both the type to try and learn what they can about their partner, i think. they’re also good at reading each other.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

hilda has to tackle dimitri to stop him from dying for her because of this question. hilda loves him dearly but please for the love of everything dimitri have some fucking self-preservation.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

after they got married dimitri accidentally invented valentines day because he tried to send her all the chocolate he could. hilda screamed that there was literally no way she could ever eat all of that in twelve lifetimes. she had to start a chocolate festival to get rid of them all.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

oh hell yeah.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

sometimes theyre separated because of kingly and queenly duties...

hilda dealt with dimitri being gone by wrapping a one of his cloaks around her shoulders. he was so embarrassed when he came back

dimitri writes letters but will they ever be sent to her? when they’re so embarrassing? who knows?

(someone stole them and sent them. this thief has never been identified but is suspected to be someone close to the royal couple.)

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

haven’t we had enough of dimitri almost dying. can’t we have dimitri in love. gosh.

#hildimitri #hilda valentin goneril #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe3h #alphabet thing

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