#dimitri come save me

[sleepy-bear-tm]

Are we only ghosts of who we used to be?

[waywardsalt]

thoughts on totk now that i’ve beaten it

under the cut bc of length and bc there is honestly a fair bit of negative stuff

i don’t really think i can say that i liked totk.

it’s fine, it’s genuinely fucking incredible from a technical standpoint with ultrahand, recall, the three map layers and with how smoothly it ran for me. as a game it’s fine.

i’ll start with the things i dislike and end with what i actually liked

i honestly didn’t really like ultrahand? i disliked how much the game leaned on it, since so many puzzles and whatever just boiled down to ‘make something that’ll work’ and it just... it was far too clunky for me to really enjoy using it, outside of using some of the same few designs for traversal. there were a few times when i could see what the game wanted me to do with ultrahand and the given zonai parts and sometimes it just... didn’t work at all. more often than not ultrahand was frustrating for me to use so the game’s reliance on it just made it into a chore sometimes.

in a similar vein the dungeons were serious letdowns. i mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re fine, they had good themes and (mostly) had good aesthetics and general looks and identities to them, but the fact that they were just... basically twenty-ish minute little things was kind of disappointing. i hate that they all had the exact same ‘go hit x number of switches’ gimmick. it really limited what you could do and fucked with the dungeon design, too. the only one where that really worked for me was the fire temple, which was my favorite overall. the water temple was especially dismal, with the least inspired look and just being an astoundingly easy experience. the puzzles in those dungeons were so awfully easy, too, especially since half of the time they just hand you what you need so you barely need to really assess the situation and put a plan together

i hated the water dungeon’s little mini-areas where you do a single piss-easy puzzle to automatically get your prize, i hated the wind temple’s god damn ‘pull a lever and get your prize’ kind of puzzles, i hated how soul-crushingly disappointed i felt when i took a look at the lightning temple’s map and realized that every fucking floor had a singular room just for the switch puzzle. god forbid it’s as fun as the lowest level of that temple. i really miss stuff like mini-bosses or rooms where you have to do a puzzle in order to just... progress, i miss dungeons that i could get lost in or spend a while in or just had... something more interesting or some more substance so that i can’t just breeze through like it’s a glorified shrine. most of the puzzles in those dungeons were simpler than some shrines i did.

i didn’t care to do much exploration since there honestly isn’t much motivation to explore the surface map if you’ve already played botw, and the scarcity of materials this time really got to me, it took me a while to have a half-decent stock of materials, and i still had trouble not running out of stuff even though i was using amiibos to stock up on some things. the money situation was rough, too... a lot of things are cheaper to sell, but some armor is still really expensive plus you have to pay the great fairies to upgrade your equipment in addition to having the correct materials. that especially felt odd- having to grab a handful of (goddamn hard to get) lynel guts is hard enough to upgrade the soldier’s armor, but you want me to cough up 500 rupees, too??

(the scarcity of monster guts also got on my nerves, but i’ll just chalk that up to just some kind of really weird difficulty thing. it was annoying until i tracked down the stronger monsters.)

the story is probably the weakest part of the game to me. it’s really hard to have a baseline investment when you don’t care about these characters, anyway, and what i saw in this game’s story still failed to endear me to hardly any of them. link’s role frustrated me; he just comes off like a tool rather than a character this time through, he barely has any actual relevancy to the story segments beyond being the guy who can use the master sword and being the player’s vehicle to get from point a to b in the story. the blank stare and limited emoting worked in botw because... there’s a given reason for his lack of outward emotion in the past, plus he has no memory in the present. it makes sense. but this time around, he’s gotten memories in the years between this and the last game, but he just feels like a background character in most of the story beats. 

he has no role in the memories and in the present just exists to gather some stuff for other people, he gets the master sword from zelda and then helps the other sages get their secret stones, but he’s barely addressed as his own character in the grand scheme of things unless he’s being directly spoken to. he’s just the swordsman capable of wielding the master sword and zelda’s chosen protector as far as the story is concerned. he has no opinions outside of doing what he’s told and looking for zelda. at least not as far as i could really tell. at least in botw, the story directly concerns him, and it’s his story we’re following. this time around zelda and the sages seem like the most important characters, link’s just... there, doing what he’s been told to.

the new sages are fine, none of them really endeared themselves to me, and i will say that making the player watch essentially the exact same cutscene each time you finish a dungeon was BAFFLING. they were long and you learned almost nothing new after the first one, and there was nothing done to make them very distinct to each individual pair of sages or their respective regions; at the very least, it could have been interesting to meet the ancient sages not in the exact same stone garden, but perhaps at the top of a snowy mountain for the rito, near a volcano or something for the goron, maybe in a shallow pool of water for the zora, and in the desert for the gerudo- but no, they’re all effectively the same thing just with the speaking character swapped out with some minor changes.

(the sages themselves are a pain in the ass to use, having to chase them down to activate their power or accidentally activating a power when you don’t want it; yunobo was honestly my favorite, but because i generally defaulted to having them all activated at all times, i had a lot of trouble with tulin blowing shit away from me when i was trying to grab it while midair. they’re half-decent for combat)

i didn’t really care for rauru or sonia, either. rauru in the present as a ghost was fine, he was kind of interesting and seemed to have changed from his time in the past, but he never managed to be a character i particularly liked. i wasn’t really a fan of his... arrogance? or something in the past scenes, and he never really came off as very interesting. sonia was nearly completely uninteresting which is a shame since she has an interesting design, she just felt delegated to the role of supporting rauru and zelda and then dying to motivate them.

ganondorf is a character i was really looking forward to seeing, and it really fucking sucks that he’s so god damn one-dimensional this time! the story can’t be fucked to delve into him beyond just giving us scenes that just tell us that he’s evil and wants to rule hyrule and get the secret stones and nothing else because fuck having complex villains, i guess. especially frustrating because within the game itself you can draw more interesting motivations up for him, but the game really just doubles-down on him being evil for the fuck of it and wanting to end the world because uhhhh... he’s evil don’t fucking worry about it

the ignoring of the triforce in this game sucks in that way, too, because the way the triforce works and how it can grant wishes made it a much more interesting goal for ganondorf to attain, rather than some poorly-named ‘secret stones’ that do nothing more than just amplify power or something. it sucks how black-and-white this damn story is and how it seems like it just wants to do away with any possible nuance or gray area. no one but the bad guys or side characters are flawed in any actually interesting or significant way.

at least ganondorf was still the most interesting character in the flashbacks.

and then zelda, oh god ZELDA. i honestly really liked her in botw. i liked how you saw her as a flawed, insecure, pressured teen, and how you saw her struggles to relate to link and how she eventually warmed up to him. you saw her as a flawed person who develops and as someone who cares deeply about her friends and her duties and gets frustrated by her failings.

and then in totk a lot of her more interesting traits- her interest in sheikah tech, her excitement over field study and research, her more defining traits as this incarnation of zelda- are basically sanded down and she’s just this perfect flawless princess with great power and an insanely passive role in the past beyond finally taking some kind of action after one of her friends dies and she’s pushed to the brink. cool. great.

she has practically no flaw in totk. if anyone in the present talks about her, they have nothing bad to say and just want to please her and follow her orders, she is right in telling the gerudo how to train their troops she is right even when misheard to tell people to put themselves in danger and she is hardly meaningfully questioned when her imposter is doing very clearly suspicious shit. neither the story nor any of the characters wants to let her be flawed. she’s just perfect in damn near every way and barely retains any interesting characterization she got in botw. there are some interesting snippets in her being a teacher and setting up memorials to those who died in the calamity, but there’s hardly any more than that, and it makes it really hard for me to give a damn about her. she’s not interesting this time.

the whole thing with zelda becoming a dragon too, is... it’s fine. it’s ok. but the fact that she turns back at the end with no problem whatsoever is one hell of a fucking misstep. why talk about draconification being forbidden for a good reason anyways if it doesn’t actually matter anyways??? if you never actually see any of those fucking repercussions why even bring them up??? i really feel like it would have been more effective for there to have been actual consequences for zelda beyond just fucking flying around half-conscious for a millennium or whatever- have her lose her memory when she’s brought back! there you go! there’s the reason why draconification is forbidden! there’s the thing about losing yourself! plus, zelda losing her memories as a result would mirror link having lost his memories in botw! that has so much more weight and significance then ‘oh uh ignore the warnings from a while back she’s completely fine dw abt it’ i hate that she’s back just like that without any of the consequences that the game suggests.

the dragon’s tears in general kinda just felt weaker than botw’s memories anyways bc you’re more just. watching stuff happen then actually learning anything. it has less characters and yet i feel like you only get to know like half of the important ones. like three of them are all about the same event. a few times they just replay parts of old memories in new ones. if they ever reference a past memory they just show you what they’re referencing instead of leaving you to piece it together. just play the voices or something don’t break the flow of things to play a clip of something i’ve already seen.

plus the fact that totk... barely acknowledges that it’s a sequel to botw really rubs me the wrong way. i understand that loz is extremely loose with its lore, but totk is a direct sequel set in the same world a few years later, and yet the events and characters of botw have might as well been forgotten and its all either ignored, brushed aside, or straight up replaced by something else for no good reason. the continuity between these games is absolutely dismal and to see the different ways in which the events and concepts or botw are just... disregarded really just left a bad taste in my mouth.

just- i love good stories and worlds in video games, and while some games can coast by for me by feeling good to play, having a good and engaging story and characters is usually essential to my enjoyment of a game, and when i don’t care about to the point of disliking the story and characters, and when none of the important areas are fascinating or distinct enough from each other, and when the game even fails to really reel me in with the gameplay...

i wanted to like totk, but it really just did not work for me. i just ended up feeling frustrated and disappointed and even sometimes bored with all of the major stuff and man. totk is really, REALLY, not for me, and it just left me wanting to play older zelda games instead.

...

HOWEVER! there were actually some things i really loved about totk! it’s not all doom and gloom! (well, not all doom, at least)

so! the music was great! not all of it really fit or made a lot of sense with the context in which they played or failed to evoke the feeling they were meant to, but the new tracks in this game were great! i especially love the first two phases of the fire temple’s theme, the depths music, and most of the new battle and boss themes. zelda games almost never fail when it comes to the music.

i did genuinely like the fire temple- yunobo’s ability was used the best in this dungeon, and it had the best five switches gimmick, i loved how you had to hit the gongs (sometimes having to construct a path to account for the weaknesses of yunobo’s ability) and how it then ‘scared’ each of the five statues holding a part of the gate- it was very cute and fit in very well with the general feel of that part of the story. it was the best in terms of difficulty and complexity, but it didn’t have the best boss- the lightning temple had the best boss, and i will admit that even if most of them were easy, i really enjoyed the mirror puzzles, as well as the process to unlocking the dungeon. the wind temple had my favorite visual identity and aesthetic, though, i liked it being a part of this old rito song, and how it was the most distinct in looks from the other dungeons.

the sky islands were honestly fun, even if they weren’t all that interesting. getting to some of the harder-to-reach islands were some of my favorite times i had to use ultrahand, and stuff like the zonai forge island and the one orblike island with the mirror puzzle, and pretty much all of the more complicated parts of the sky islands were a lot of fun to explore and figure out.

being able to ride on the dragons was just really cool, and the fact that they come out of the chasms was fun.

the new horns for the monsters were cool, it helps differentiate the different monster strengths and i just thought they were really neat.

the quest with lurelin village was fun, even if the pirates just being monsters was a real let-down.

the stable trotters were also a fun bunch of characters, that was a good, new way to open up fairy fountains.

all of the new stuff with the yiga was really fun, like getting their outfit and being able to pretend to be one of them and learning the blademaster attack- so much fun it was so cute.

most of the new outfits are really good and useful, and while a bit janky and not that great, the house-building bit near tarrey was endearing.

while none of the main characters interested me, i really, especially liked tauro and yona and penn. for some reason they just appealed to me and i really wish they had bigger parts in the game because they’re interesting and they have good designs and i’d really like to know more about them.

the underground gerudo shelter was pretty cool, to be honest, and the look of the caves was really cool.

i adored the proving grounds shrines- easily my favorite shrines in the entire game, i had no problem spending a decent amount of time in those kinds of shrines, they were fantastic.

the new ingredients and recipes and new weapons were cool.

the way you basically return to the area you started at on your way to ganondorf is pretty cool, that whole path is really neat.

ganondorf in general was a pretty cool boss, even if he ended up being kind of easy for me. the whole final boss sequence was neat.

by FAR, though, my absolute favorite part of this game was 100% the depths. the fact that there was just an entire second layer to the map that was the same size as the surface, just inverted and dark and filled with new bosses and locations... i spent hours down there without going back up to the surface and absolutely had a BLAST screwing around in the dark, lighting up my path with brightblooms and tossing together little vehicles with lights so that i could get to the next lightroot off in the distance. the depths was probably where i ended up using zonai vehicles the most, and it was honestly pretty fun to go around spotting and reaching every lightroot, coming across different mines and weird little landforms and coliseums and yiga camps. the music and plantlife and look of the depths were so good, and it really felt distinct from the rest of the game in a very good way. doing all of the lightroots and getting enough zonaite to max out link’s energy cells was definitely a good move since it made finding shrines and dealing with later zonai machine stuff easier.

overall, tears of the kingdom was a severely mixed bag for me, and while there was stuff i did like, i don’t think it’s enough to really get me to say that i really liked this game overall- after all most of the stuff i disliked was unavoidable parts of the games, and it definitely put a hamper on my interest in the rest of the time. totk is fine, but it’s really not my thing. 

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

VIII. whatever keeps you around.

parts: previously / next plot: bruce has a proposal for you. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, brief discussion of slight suicidal ideation/martyrdom, drug (and the injection of drugs) mentions, you will not guess what trope I managed to include in here. words: 6.9k. a/n: plotting this series makes me feel like charlie day pointing at a wall of red string

“…You won’t like it.”

It's clear what you have to do. You'd realized it when Gordon came to you, so of course Bruce did too. If you were going to make this right, you would have to face this head on. "I know what I have to do," you start, "I need to lure him out."

Bruce's expression shifts. Whatever you've said seems to be the wrong answer, "That... won't be necessary."

"What? What else can I do?"

"What did Gordon tell you about Dimitri?"

Your head throbs as you recall the memory, "Uh... he said he believes I'm next on Dimitri's hit list. He also said Dimitri hadn't anticipated me being at the house."

"Right, because Russo didn't want anyone knowing where he was." Bruce turns to his computer and brings up Russo's file, "After his divorce and the death of his son, he holed up and started erasing himself from the internet. As far as his neighbors know, he was constantly alone. You already know how hard it was to find him on your own, and unless Dimitri knew someone keeping tabs, it doesn't stand to reason that he found him any easier. But you, on the other hand," Bruce opens a search engine and types in your name. You're unsettled when the screen fills with results, most of them news articles from the night you'd been held hostage, "your name and face was everywhere after the gang war."

When the reporters had shoved cameras in your face and begged for you to tell them about Batman's heroic rescue, you hadn't thought twice about it, still fresh from the throes of gore and violence in the ER. Friends, family, coworkers: almost everyone you knew had seen it.

It clicks for you then, "If Dimitri planned on killing us both and I was easiest to find, why didn't he come for me first? I mean... it was me and Alex who ruined his life. If he wanted anyone dead more, wouldn't it be me?"

"I wondered the same thing. With the know-how and the right connections, anyone could find where you live just by name alone. Russo, on the other hand, is almost anonymous. It doesn't make sense why Dimitri would target Russo first."

"Do you think maybe it was a warning? Maybe he wanted to scare me."

"If he wanted to warn you, he wouldn't kill the guy in his house where no one checks up on him. Days would've passed before anyone noticed the flies in the windows."

"I don't get it."

"Do you remember how long it's been since you were taken hostage?"

Your mind lands on a weak estimate, "I don't know, a week and a half?"

"It's been over two weeks. According to the wardens, Dimitri stopped being a problem for them after the first few years. Friends with a rough crowd but he rarely got caught up in anything. Didn't have the heart to. So why, after 17 years, does he break out?"

Your stomach drops, "He saw me."

"And realized that while he was rotting away with nothing to live for, you were a hero," the word sickens you to hear, "on the front lines, saving lives, being saved. Your life went back to normal."

You grip the side of Bruce's desk with the sudden urge to vomit up everything you'd eaten today, which, frankly, wouldn't add up to much more than water and crackers.

You'd said it yourself: you'd gotten to live a life that Natalie, Dimitri, and Alex never would. Of course he wanted you dead. "So then I have to lure him out."

"And put yourself in danger? No."

"I’m already in danger, Bruce. What if he goes after the others? My parents? My coworkers? The other cops at the shootout? We have to end it now."

"This isn't the only way."

"It's the best way."

"Last time he had a knife, you could defend yourself. Barely. What if next time, he has a gun?"

"So what, you just want to do nothing?"

Bruce turns away from you. He gnaws on his lower lip, "No, I want to bide our time. Look into him more. I need to know if he's working with the Vipers again."

You watch him as he begins typing away at his computer, but you can't process what he's looking for through the haze of anger that washes over you. You lean on the desk, craning your neck up at his face to make him look at you, to understand how ridiculous he sounds, "We don't have time for that. His grudge is with me. I should meet him now and end this... either he gets what he wants or- or..."

Or what? Your stubbornness peters out. You don't know what. You see yourself standing face-to-face with Dimitri, his knife raised, ready to bury itself into the cushion of your chest. And nothing.

The you in this vision has no weapon.

"You don't think you're going to survive this." Coming out of your mind, Bruce is now looking at you, brows furrowed. He looks... mortified.

You scramble to cover your tracks, "That's not true. I'd have you there."

"But you don't want me there. You want to go alone. You think you deserve it."

"God, what are you? My therapist?" Your words flit out of your mouth in a rush, tongue nearly slipping up to defend yourself. You push away from the desk when you start feeling overexposed.

Bruce follows you, "You're not 16 anymore, this isn't some gang fight where you throw all your chips in because you can't see a year ahead of you. You've made a life. You've got people to lose, you said so yourself. I know what it's like... the survivor's guilt. You relive that day over and over-"

His words are making you feel sick to your stomach again and you lurch forward, finger in his face, "Don't you fucking preach to me-"

Almost as immediately as you'd raised your finger, Bruce snatches your wrist in his hand, yanking you close enough to be imposing, staring down at you with the same power that the Batman had used. It was so sudden that you quickly fall slack, wrist going limp in his grip.

It had completely sobered you of your tantrum, and for better or for worse, you were forced to listen to him, "Stop feeling sorry for yourself and think. You see this ending with you dead because you want to make up for the shit you did. You think that's what Alex wants? For you to bleed out in an alley like she did?" And just like that, the fire roars in you once more, but your other hand can't slap him across the face before he's caught that one too, "No future? What about all the people you've saved? Could still save? Face it now because you may not get another chance: you're alive. Do you want to be or not?"

You want to hurt him, turn his skin red and give it a place among the other bruises that glitter and glare down his torso, and as your hand shakes in his hold, you are forced to understand that you are angry because he is right.

You'd felt this same anger before. When your parents told you Alex was a bad influence on you. When Russo looked you in the eye and told you that you didn't have it in you to pull the trigger. It was maddening. He had clocked your suicide mission before even you had, had seen you in his mind's eye the way you saw yourself: disarmed, a lamb to the slaughter, a sacrifice for the greater good, a speedbump.

You could see Batman tackling him to the ground over your dying body. You couldn't see yourself getting up the next day.

After the frustration leaves Bruce's eyes, he's looking at you with something softer. You feel known, uncomfortably so, as he waits for you to meet him there.

And when you do, you hate how you collapse into him. Even more, you hate that he takes you up into his arms, holding you steadfast, as understanding as you needed him to be with all your fear of admitting it. The solidness of his body reminds you of the night he'd first held you, and that just makes you cry harder.

It feels different from last time. Where there was armor is now warm skin, the likes of which you hadn't felt in a while. If you had told your past self you'd one day be standing in Batman's cave, hugging Bruce Wayne and crying over the permanence of your mistakes, you might have diagnosed yourself with head trauma.

You screw your eyes shut in a vain attempt to put the tears to rest, your freed hands practically clawing at Bruce's warm back for some purchase, some stability. He doesn't seem to mind. He just holds you closer.

After a few minutes, you force yourself to speak, sniffling away the last remaining tears you'd allow yourself to shed, "You said I wouldn't like it. Your plan. What is it?"

"To disappear."

You wrench yourself back. Bruce is dead serious. "What?"

"I've considered it from all angles-"

"What do you mean, 'disappear'?"

"All but one of the prisoners Dimitri broke out with are still missing. How do we know they're not all working together? How do we know that you luring him out won't draw them out too? You were the easiest target before, not anymore."

"Say what you mean, Bruce. What do you want me to do?"

"I want to hide you here," he winces as he says this, as if aware of his words only now that they're out in the open, "with me."

"You're shitting me."

After a while, Bruce's face hardens, "I told you you wouldn't like it."

Liking it or not liking it was nothing. You'd advanced past "like". You were firmly out of your depth here.

You slip out of Bruce's hold and he lets you, standing rather awkwardly as you rub a hand across your mouth. Despite earlier, it now feels uncomfortably dry. You glance at Bruce and then at his screen, the tab with your name and face plastered all over it hovering in the background. "You want me to disappear off the face of the earth while you track him down. Leave my home, leave the people I care about, abandon my job. You want me to hide."

"I don't know how else to protect you. Not until we figure out what we're up against." Bruce watches you spin away, scoffing into the air, "You noticed it when you fought him off, didn't you? Something was really wrong with him."

You see flashes of Dimitri's feral stare, the way he staggered and swung. He was like a rabid animal in a cage. "Of course there was, he was trying to kill me."

"Beyond that," Bruce insists, "he wasn't right. I've seen it before. He was on something."

"Most people are these days. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd... I don't know, gotten his hands on drops or something-"

"It wasn't drops. Gordon told me."

"The detective?"

"He said they found a syringe with traces of venom in it. Dimitri's shooting up. That's why he was so strong."

Your mouth drops open in disbelief, "Venom? Great. Somehow worse than Drops."

"If he's on that drug, he's definitely addicted. It also means you won't stand a chance against him. This is why I'm telling you to stay here," Bruce steps forward, eyes imploring yours. You're dumbstruck by the heavy earnestness there, "stay in the tower. Hide here for a few days. Let me handle this."

"If he's on venom, it means he doesn't think he can handle you on his own," you wring your hands, flitting through images of the Dimitri you remember, "he was always really small. Even at fourteen, he hadn't really sprung up. He was scrawny and small and couldn't defend himself. Suddenly Gordon's saying he's almost twice the size of what I remember. Have you ever fought someone on venom?"

"Once or twice, somewhere between fixes. Why?"

"General has this kind of... sedative that we use when we get patients dealing with the effects. It's not perfect, but it does help calm them down enough to help them. Maybe we can use it to help him."

"The strain is constantly changing," Bruce watches you deflate and clears his throat, "but if I can get that sedative, I can use it as a base to make a new one."

"You need clearance to get your hands on that stuff. I'm going with you."

"What part of disappear do you not understand?"

"One, I never agreed to do that, and two, if Batman gets caught stealing from a hospital, that'll make you public enemy number one. You need my help, so let me help you."

Bruce is looking away, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth even as you zero in on him. You're getting flashbacks of that same Bruce from when you'd first met him here in this tower. All tender-eyed, even as he tries to put on a face for you, "And I need a drink," you rub your temple next, catching a glimpse of Bruce watching you from his peripheral, "You've got those, don't you?"

It turns out Bruce has plenty. There's a whole cellar full of them, the kinds you see in MTV Cribs with the low recessed lighting and mahogany shelves gleaming with polish. It makes sense for him to have it, but less so when he tells you he doesn't actually drink any of it.

"You weren't drinking at the party, either. Even though everyone else thought you were." You brush your hand along the shelves, careful not to knock any bottles loose. "Is that a trick to keep people spilling secrets? Or to keep from spilling your own?"

Bruce hovers near the entrance with his arms folded and back pressed to the wall, carefully watching you peruse his selection, "Maybe I don't like the taste."

"That's good. Men in Gotham die from alcoholism at a higher rate than any other city in the state."

"Really?"

"Really. You don't smoke either." Bruce blinks at you, "Just get shot at. And stabbed."

He says nothing.

Your hand lands on a red aged older than your mother and you stand to the side, looking expectantly at him. You're afraid that if you try to pick it up, you might knock down the whole row.

Slowly, Bruce pushes himself off the wall and glides over to you, grabbing the neck of the bottle in one hand and looking to you for approval. You try not to shrink yourself when you nod.

You follow him out of the cellar, flinching when the lights dim behind you and the door rolls shut all on its own. He guides you to the kitchen where night still hangs over Gotham outside the window, but the time on the stove clock warns of early morning soon.

Bruce pulls out two glasses and fills yours with wine and his with cranberry juice from the fridge. You could almost laugh at the pairing.

Once he slides your glass to you, you take a seat at the island and take a sip, "I need to ask you something. I get now why you refused me at the station, but then you came back. Why did you change your mind? I mean, neither of us knew Russo would be dead when we got there. Were you just going to let me hate you?"

"Yes." His simple response draws a quick, stifled laugh out of you.

"Are you always this... chaotic?"

Bruce leans his elbows on the countertop, hunching in on himself, "I always meant to tell you who I was. I just didn't know when. And I didn't mind if you hated Bruce Wayne, but... you trusted Batman. I didn't want to break that trust. Even if it meant telling you earlier than I planned, I wanted to give you some closure."

You think about the fear that had paralyzed you back then, thinking that Bruce Wayne was some big, bad criminal hiding behind polite society. Then you think about the real man, hiding behind a mask. You fidget uncomfortably, struggling with feeling somewhere between grateful and nauseous. Your eyes catch the stitches on his shoulder and you itch to wipe away the dried blood that had dribbled from the cut, "You said you were looking for Dimitri when you got that. Did you..."

Bruce catches your eye when you fail to finish your question. "No," he answers solemnly, "which is only part of our problem." He stands to his full height, flexing bruised knuckles against the counter, "I ran into one of the guys that broke out with Dimitri tonight. That's who gave me this. Dimitri isn't working alone."

You frown, "Is he trying to shake you? Why leave clues at all?"

"Because these people want me dead. The guy from tonight? I booked him a year ago for trafficking women. Earlier led me to a fringe group of Falcone's."

"You've been looking for Dimitri all day?"

"I haven't stopped since we found Russo. I couldn't."

You rub your arms, feeling the room grow chiller by the second, "So... so he's leaving clues to people who hate you. To keep you occupied." Bruce nods. "So he can get to me?"

"After last night, he knows the Batman is on your side."

"Dimitri wasn't out when you got on the scene. Do you think maybe he's taking venom because these guys warned him about you?"

Bruce smirks, rolling his eyes as he takes a sip from his glass, "As a precaution, sure. And now he has reason to believe I know you. If he's going to go after you, he's going to shoot up each time."

"That stuff is nasty. You're big and scary when you're on it but as soon as the effects wear off-"

"You deflate like a balloon. It's also stupid expensive, so he's either got real generous prison pals or he's being used. It's why I need to know if he's working with the Vipers. They might be supplying him."

How you'd gone from an ordinary surgeon to a detective in the span of mere weeks was beyond you. You're beyond just treading water. You're diving into the abyss.

Your brain struggles to make real what is before you. Bruce, still shirtless, drinking delicately from a glass as he watches the night sky shimmer from the kitchen window. And you, sitting across from him, cracking open one of his family's expensive bottles that, frankly, puts your pantry vinos to shame. Playing vigilantes like schoolchildren. Except the blood on you both is very real.

Your arm throbs at being remembered for once tonight. Bruce notices you touch it, "You need to get some rest."

You know he's right, and you're not arguing for the sake of arguing when you say, "I can't sleep yet." But he can tell there's more on your mind as he waits silently, almost egging you on to lay yourself bare. You swear you're not arguing just for the sake of arguing, "And I don't want to disappear. I want to be alive."

Bruce says nothing. The silence isn't humiliating like you'd think it be, even if the first few seconds leave you feeling just as laid bare as you thought you would. No. It feels acknowledging. Understanding, even.

For the first time, you look at Bruce and feel like you understand him. If he was really Batman, then he would know better than anyone why you would want to put yourself in danger. But beneath that, with the meager knowledge of who Bruce Wayne is, you also think you understand him too.

He'd mentioned the survivor's guilt. While he'd played a much more innocent role in the whole ordeal, you couldn't imagine the weight on one's chest knowing that two people you love didn't get to go on but you did. It's a lot to ask of a child barely coming to understand the mortality of one's own keepers.

The choice to be alive for someone like that is a deliberate choice. Constantly made every morning.

"There is another way," Bruce muses, "but you'll like it even less."

"Don't leave me hanging."

"We could go public."

"What?"

"You said disappearing would mean abandoning your life. And it would. No one could know where you went, who you were with, but there's always the chance someone might slip up. It's the safest option but it's not what you want. So don't hide." Bruce's eye contact is deep and unwavering. Compared to earlier, he seems to trust you're willing to listen this time, "Be mine."

For the nth time tonight, you are rendered nearly speechless. Nearly. "Are you fucking with me?"

Bruce's eyes narrow, "No."

"Did you just... proposition me?"

"I made a proposal."

"You're asking me to date you."

"Publicly. Batman has more enemies than allies, but Bruce Wayne has the people. If you and I are publicly linked, it tells everyone looking for you that the world is watching. It makes you more visible, as well as anyone who comes after you."

"You haven't slept," you reason, "clearly. And you're delirious."

"I haven't slept, no." But he looks fairly sober for someone who hasn't slept in a day. He is a different breed, this Bruce Wayne.

You peer out the kitchen window and see the black sky dipping into a blue horizon, "Then sleep on it and come up with something better."

Bruce rounds the island until he's standing beside you, looking down at your barely touched wine, "There's some spare rooms upstairs. You can take your pick." It dawns on you that you may not be going back home any time soon. "You know your way around."

You suppose you deserve that dig.

Then he's leaving you, glasses abandoned, home for you to explore. You don't realize how thick the air had gotten with him right next to you until he's gone.

You half-expect Alfred to pop up somewhere nearby, but there's nothing. This far up, there is no city to listen for, no neighbors slamming doors. You are in a cold house all alone. You suddenly wish he'd stayed to keep you company, even if the weight of it was beginning to take its toll on you. Left alone, you only had the sunrise.

You watch until the sky has all but chased the night away, and then you head upstairs.

You didn't think you'd get much sleep in a stranger's bed, but you're being roused by a sharp, successive rapping at your door several hours later. It jolts you awake, kick-starting your heart, and you clumsily tumble out of the million thread count sheets to open the door.

Alfred stands there fully dressed for the day, one hand tucked in his pocket and the other still raised to knock. Upon seeing you, he lowers his fist, "Morning," he starts, looking away as soon as he meets your eyes, "breakfast is ready. Come get it before it's cold."

He does not give you a choice in the matter. He's already limping toward the staircase without another word.

After you get your heart to settle down, you follow after him, preening yourself as you pass hallway mirrors and portraits of the Wayne family through the generations. You hadn't come down this hallway when you'd found the terminus elevator, so you stumble to a stop in front of a portrait of a young Bruce grinning ear to ear.

It startles you. His eyes are soft, a gentle humming blue untouched by wrinkle or darkness. He must've been especially young here. Glancing at a nearby portrait of his parents, you find him the spitting image of his father. You look around and realize there are no portraits of Bruce at this age.

Bruce. He might be at breakfast, and the mere thought of having to discuss what occurred last night almost turns you right back around to the guest room, but your stomach rumbling begs you not to. You still walk quietly, peering around corners in case your stomach changed its mind.

You find you're cautious for naught when the only person standing in the kitchen is Alfred, chopping up fresh fruit.

"I hope you don't mind that I moved your things," he gestures with his paring knife to your surgical tools neatly congregated on the counter, "I cleaned them too."

"Oh. You didn't need to do that."

"There was blood, so I'm afraid I did." Alfred places a bit of pressure on "blood", and you quickly take note of his short tone.

Still, all the same, he then gestures to the island and implores you take a seat in front of an empty plate. Without asking, he begins pushing steaming hot food onto your plate, "Tea or coffee?" He asks, barely looking up at you.

"Uh, coffee is fine. Thanks." You watch Alfred pour you a mug and wonder if the awkwardness with him is any more preferable to the awkwardness with Bruce. Alfred is passive-aggressive, Bruce is... aggressive. You remember how the latter had left off your night together and find yourself feeling warmer toward Alfred. "How long have you been up?"

"Since 6, although I woke a few times through the night."

You wince, "Sorry."

"No need to apologize. I did think Bruce had invited you over under different circumstances, so... not as alarming, all things considered." Your grip on your fork slips and it clatters to the marble. Alfred barely reacts.

"He needed stitches." Is all you can get out.

"Yes, I'm well aware."

You glance up at him, "You saw?"

"When he first arrived home, yes. I was the one who helped stop the bleeding."

You stare at the coffee sweating in your cup, recalling something Bruce had mentioned last night, "Bruce said you were the one who used to stitch him up."

"Yes."

"If you were there, why-"

"It's what he pays you for, isn't it?" Alfred almost snaps back at you, slicing a strawberry into quarters with more edge than needed.

You recall something else next. The softness in Alfred's face the day you first came here, arguing with Bruce in the very room next door. You'd wondered what it had all been about.

"I've done alright, haven't I?"

"He said something else too," you start, careful as you choose your next words, "about how much you worry about him." You fiddle with your mug, pretending not to feel the heat of Alfred's eyes on you, "I think the reason he hired me is because he was worried about you."

You just catch the tail-end of Alfred's frown, "Worried about me? Why?"

You probably aren't close enough to either of these two to laugh about this, but you do anyway, "Isn't it kind of obvious?"

"Nonsense. We always discussed... if it would come to it, that if he were to pursue this life further, that he would recruit professionals who might aid him in his work. It was the natural thing to do."

"Maybe, yeah. But would he have really needed me if you weren't already doing everything else for him? You've taken good care of him this long. I mean, the aftercare you gave his bullet wound was exceptional. I accused him of talking to other doctors."

Alfred busies himself with scraping his strawberry halves into a bowl, "It's basic knowledge. You learn that kind of thing in the service."

"Or when you invited me to watch you two spar. You know his body probably better than he does. You're fantastic, Alfred." You couldn't say you weren't also trying to butter him up to better his feelings toward you, but you were speaking truth all the same.

In a very British way, he rebuts your compliments and spoons some fruit into a glass, beginning to layer some yogurt over top them, "Regardless of reason, you are here now, and I'll have you know that every part of your contract covers this. Wayne Enterprises will exhaust every possible legal tool at our leisure if you speak of any—any—of this to anyone. Master Bruce's identity is safely guarded, and regardless of his trust in you, I will not hesitate-"

"Whoa, whoa, hey. I would never tell anyone. Not after all Batman has done for me." You press a hand over your heart for emphasis, "He is just as much my patient as Bruce Wayne is, and he didn't have to pay me to take care of him."

Alfred still stares you down like a guard dog, paring knife still clutched in his fingers. After a moment, he looks away from you and points at your plate, "Eat. It's getting cold."

So you do. It's good so you say as much, counting any point toward his affection as a good thing. If you could get Alfred to trust you, you'd call that a win.

The tension in the air dissipates over time, and after you've licked your plate clean, you and Alfred are sharing coffee together. "Bruce isn't joining us?"

"I've stopped expecting him to be awake this early." You glance at the clock that reads 10:12. "He has adopted a near-fully nocturnal lifestyle."

"The night that he crawled through my window, he was there at the hospital the next morning like nothing happened. He doesn't do that often?"

"Before last year, it was a rare occurrence. While he's dedicated himself to his role more recently, if he can avoid it, he will."

You think back to what knowledge you do have on Bruce's charity work and his friendship with the Mayor. You'd worked shifts just as long, but you couldn't imagine showing up to work mere hours after getting shot in the stomach and having to put on a brave face about it. You almost feel bad for calling him out on it in front of everyone.

But then again, if you hadn't, would you even be sitting here?

You swirl the last vestiges of coffee in your cup, trying to picture a world in which you'd gone and found that empty office to nap in instead of toddling behind Rudy and Em and Alfred and Batman. The Batman.

The novelty of it brings a fresh wave of dizziness over you. You had been exposed to so much information over the course of the last 12 hours that it hadn't fully settled in on you what Bruce was. You didn't think that your brain would process it even if he was standing in cowl and cape right in front of you.

"I suppose you'll be staying with us for the near future, if Bruce has anything to say about it," Alfred stands from his chair beside you and puts your dishes in the sink, "shall I inform your security detail or would you like to?"

You don't know what to say to that. "I'm... I think I should talk this over with Bruce first. It may not need to come to that."

The butler shrugs. "I'll be attending to some house duties for the rest of the morning. Should you stay for lunch, let Dory know, hm?" You give him a weak nod and watch as he makes his way from the sink and heads down another hallway out of sight.

Not too long after Alfred leaves you, you hear the doorbell ring. Bruce hadn't mentioned to you that any guests would be here today, but then again, the two of you had had more important things to discuss last night. You check your reflection in the glass of the kitchen window, wondering if there were any hidden doors in the bookcases that could hide you from whatever Wayne Enterprises exec that was coming to talk business, but you wouldn't trust yourself not to break something in the process.

You hear two pairs of footsteps approaching from the elevator and turn to see who it might be. You first recognize Dory, fluttering between frantic small talk and making sure not to trip in her kitten heels as she guides her guest into the living room. You stiffen as soon as you see him.

Detective Gordon catches your eyes instantly, his own widening. Dory says something about going to fetch Bruce before she quickly ascends the stairs, leaving you and James staring at each other across the distance. In one hand is a notepad and pencil, and the other fixes his tie, almost as if at a loss for words. He greets you, hesitantly leaving where Dory had left him to approach you, "I saw the boys out front but... I didn't expect to see you here."

"Me neither." You reply. "Is everything okay?"

James glances up at the stairs as he passes underneath, "That depends. I followed up on your request."

Shit. Of course a cop would do their job when you least expect it. You slip out of your chair and rush to meet him halfway into the kitchen, "Did... did you find something?"

"I can't say much right now. I'd like to talk to Mr. Wayne, but-" The sound of Dory's heels clacking against the wooden stairs makes James lower his voice, "-you being here complicates things."

Bruce is wearing a shirt this time, thankfully, though you're not expecting him to look as put together this early after what Alfred had said. He towers behind Dory's much smaller frame in a pair of loose black pants and a matching turtleneck, looking in a fashionable state of undress as he pads barefoot into the room. With hair slicked back and stubble freshly shaved, he doesn't look like someone caught unaware. He's fixing the sleeve of his sweater when he extends a hand to Detective Gordon, bright smile and all, "Detective James Gordon, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Mr. Wayne, I'm sorry for dropping in unannounced. If this is a bad time, I can come back." James gestures to you.

Bruce's look at you is empty, devoid of any detectable emotion or thought. It strikes you as unsettling, the same way a cashier at the end of their shift isn't really looking at you, "Oh, no. I was just on my way to work when I felt unwell. I called my doctor over but it was nothing to worry about. A little stomach bug, is all."

You do look like you'd just come over in a rush. You're still in your lounge clothes from the night before, and your medical supplies are still in the kitchen where Alfred had left them. James seems to notice, but he doesn't look any more relaxed. "That's good to hear. I don't want to keep you too long, but truth is, I have some questions I'd like to ask you if you have the time."

"Is something wrong?" James glances between you and Bruce, something the latter doesn't miss, "is it sensitive?"

"It's about the party you threw here the other night, Mr. Wayne. For Mayor Reál. I hear you invited quite a few Gotham politicians to celebrate the passing of the mayor's new bill, correct?"

"That's correct."

"And I understand you're quite invested in Gotham politics in general, much like your father."

"I am. My mother and father were very interested in the city, and Mayor Reál breathed new life into that for me after the election. I do what I can to support the cause."

"And that cause is...?"

Bruce takes the skeptical tone on the chin, smiling wider, "A safer, fairer Gotham. For everyone."

This Bruce was nothing like the Bruce you had all to yourself. He taps into that persona from the party with ease. Watching him is like watching a performance. "That's good, good. I notice you try to make an effort with charities in the city, donations and the like. You recently donated a new wing to Gotham General."

"I did. Increasing access to medical care for the citizens is important to me. My doctor, a talented surgeon at General, knows this well." You flash a timid smile when both Bruce and James look to you.

"And you also financially support politicians in Gotham."

"Occasionally. Anyone I feel has Gotham's best interests in mind."

"And have you found members of Gotham's political parties to be unusually forward in requesting your support, Mr. Wayne? Perhaps a little too pushy, maybe."

Bruce wears confusion well, "Not necessarily. I'm not easily pressured into doing things I have no interest in."

"Of course. How about any attempts to win over your support? Publicly or otherwise."

"I'm not sure what you're asking, detective. I'd love to help, but I don't think I have the information you're looking for."

James nods, holding his chin high, "My apologies. I should've been clear from the beginning. My question is: have any politicians or members of law enforcement offered you anything in exchange for your financial or public support? I have reason to believe there may be someone with high clearance exchanging confidential information with civilians. Especially ones who can pay. I'm just looking for a lead."

James frames his question well, even though any fat cat familiar with the cops could see the hidden question. Bruce frowns, tilts his head, shaking it slowly, "That's awful. I don't currently know of anyone doing such a thing, to me or anyone else. But I can keep an eye out. I can only imagine how dangerous that might be."

"Exactly. We'd like to nip it in the bud as soon as possible."

"Of course. Do you have a card? Perhaps I can contact you if I hear anything."

James fishes out his card and hands it over, "I don't want to put you in a bad position, only pass along what you know if you feel safe enough to do so."

You notice Bruce is flicking the business card between his fingers as a fidget, though he keeps his attention respectfully on the detective. "Absolutely. Thank you, detective. Dory can show you to the door."

The detective nods and follows Dory out of the room. As soon as the two are out of earshot, Bruce's expression softens as he presses his back into the counter. You wish you could sink into the floor. "To be fair," you begin, "I didn't think he'd find anything."

Bruce side-eyes you, "That was you?"

"I thought my criminal boss was going to blackmail me to keep his secrets."

"Criminal boss." You think he's trying to mock you, but his eyes are surprisingly guilty when he looks at you, "Alfred wasn't kidding. I really didn't handle this well."

"No, not really." You don't mean to kick him while he's down, but you can't lie either. Even now, you were still making meaning out of this whole thing.

By all means, you've gone from knowing nothing about him, to understanding even less, to fearing him, to this. With Batman on the other hand, you'd felt nothing but loyalty and trust in him up until the very last second. Now they were both the same person, and the meager hours of sleep you'd gotten hadn't cleared all that up just yet.

You wonder who you're supposed to see now. Batman or Bruce Wayne? Why was the line separating them blurring the more you thought of them?

"So, did you ever come up with a better idea?"

Bruce does not offer one. You'd dreaded that.

"You already know what I think. No matter how we go about this, there's going to be something. So what do you want to do?" Bruce's eyes follow your ever minute expression, laser-focused on you. "Whatever you choose, I will keep you safe. I promise you."

He feels so staunchly Batman in this moment, even with the soft voice of Bruce, watching over you. Through all your uncertainty, this you believe him on.

And you're exhausted, you find. Your arm is beginning to throb again. You crave the reprieve of a bed but not your own, to your surprise.

"I'm going to trust you, Bruce," your voice wobbles as you say it out loud, "I'm going to trust you like I trust Batman."

Bruce holds eye contact with you for a few moments, "Okay."

"Can I ask... why are you dressed so nice?"

"We're going to get the sedative."

"You're going as Bruce?"

"It's the middle of the day. Yes, I'm going as Bruce. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

You fluster, suddenly reconsidering this entire plan. You'd pictured Batman skulking on the rooftop while you Mission Impossible'd your way into the medicine cabinets for what you needed. Walking in with him—the real him—would draw attention you didn't need, "You're only going to make me look suspicious."

"I'm your patient, and more importantly, I'm a donor."

"You will stick out like a sore thumb."

"That means when people are looking at me, they're not looking at you." You open your mouth to argue but he's already cutting you off, "Do you want me to drop you off at your place or do you want me to send someone to get your things?"

You're aware of what he's really asking.

You heave a sigh, "Drop me off. I can't promise Judith won't hurt someone if she finds a stranger in my house."

a/n: mj stop having the reader move in with bruce when their life is put in imminent danger challenge impossible

[reunionatdawn]

My Analysis of the Best Paired Endings in 3H (Part 19: AM Sylvain/Felix)

Sylvain: I hate Crests, you know. They mess everything up in life, the future, everything… Just because I have a Crest, I'm treated as the heir, and my older brother nearly killed me because of jealousy. Bitches... they swarm to me, no, to my blood, like ants... Mercedes: …I'm sorry. Did I remind you of something you didn't want to remember? Sylvain: …Sorry, I slipped. Ah, damn, I didn't mean to show such a pathetic side… Mercedes: …No, I'm glad. It feels like I saw your true face for the first time.

The localization watered down, omitted, or completely rewrote a lot of the more interesting gender-related dialogue. In his Japanese B-Support with Mercedes, the word Sylvain used for women was "女ども" (onnadomo). This term is derogatory. It is used to refer to females in a demeaning manner and carries a tone of contempt or disdain. It is considered offensive and is avoided in polite conversation. A comparable word in English might be "bitches" or "wenches."

Sylvain: …Oh, what's up, Professor? Haha, sorry, didn't notice you at all. We've been meeting quite often lately. Oh, could it be that you're interested in me? (Female Byleth): ...Just kidding, it's a joke. Please don't make such an obvious disgusted face. (Male Byleth): Sorry, my arms are reserved for girls only! I'd prefer not to lend them to bastards.

The localization also changed some lines in Sylvain's B-Support with Byleth pretty significantly. If you are playing as Male Byleth, he refers to males as "野郎" (yarou). It's an informal term that is somewhat similar to "guy" or "dude" in English, but it's more derogatory. It's a gendered insult and it suggests that the person being referred to is undesirable or contemptible in some way. It implies qualities like rudeness, roughness, or unpleasantness. It is also considered offensive and impolite, and it's generally not used in polite contexts.

Sylvain: My brother was always a truly irredeemable bastard. Selfish, conceited, and arrogant. I've always had to clean up after him…even after he died. But, thinking about it, if my brother, not me, had been born with the Crest… Would I have become like my brother, or would there have been a different fate for me…?

"Yarou" is often translated as "bastard". In Hopes, if you take Sylvain on an expedition and ask about his likes, he says it's talking to girls. If you ask what he dislikes, he says it's being surrounded by guys, and he uses the same term. And he often used it when referring to guys in general, such as during teatime. I think he was even more of a misandrist than a misogynist, and it's a shame that wasn't as apparent in English because it's pretty integral to his character.

Sylvain: If someone is in trouble, you help them. That's what a knight, no, what a human being does. Whether it's a cute girl or a rugged big guy, it's the same thing. Ashe: …！ Sylvain: Hey, don't give me that look. Are you falling for me? Unfortunately… Ashe: What are you talking about? …I'm just a little surprised.

Even though Sylvain disliked most women, he still vastly preferred their company over men. In their B-Support, he saved Ashe's life, and Ashe came to thank him (quite similar to Sylvain's A-Support with Felix, actually). And he basically told Ashe "no homo". In the localization of their C-Support, he asked Dimitri to come to town together with him to pick up girls. But in the Japanese, he simply encouraged him to invite girls out to dinner on his own.

Sylvain: Hey, Professor. If you're free, wanna go out to the town together? (Female Byleth): I found a place with delicious food. I thought I had no choice but to invite you, Professor! (Male Byleth): In search of unseen beauties… No. Just kidding. Please don't give me that look.

While there are plenty of hints that Sylvain is bisexual, I think it makes perfect sense that he can't end up with Male Byleth or any other male character except for one. He had a VERY specific type. I don't even think Female Byleth was truly his type. But ya know, self-insert.

Sylvain: Dorothea, Hilda, Mercedes… Lady Rhea is also quite the beauty. Ah, the Officer's Academy is great, Professor. Beauties everywhere you turn! Haha!

So, what was his type? Well, he tells you on the first day of school who he was interested in. Three girly girls and Lady Rhea, who represents the Mother Goddess archetype, the embodiment of the divine feminine principle.

Sylvain: Professor, have you seen Felix? He's always disappearing when you take your eyes off him. Byleth: I saw him at the training ground. Sylvain: Well, I thought it might be something like that. Sorry, Professor. Thanks for your help! Taking care of horses, you know, it's quite soothing. They repay trust with trust. Sigh… In that regard, dealing with girls is quite tricky.

Sylvain liked damsels in distress he could swoop in and help. He thought Hilda was cute until he learned that her "delicate flower" act was insincere. And he was attracted to Dorothea, whom he compared to a beautiful flower in bloom, until he suspected she had an ulterior motive. On the day he was looking for Felix, he said he liked looking after horses because, unlike girls, they can be trusted.

Yuri: Oh, is this what they call mutual affection? I'm up for a rendezvous anytime… But next time, could you use better lines than when we first met? That was terrible! "Hello, young lady, delicate as a little bird! Would you care to chat a bit over there…" Sylvain: Oh, come on, I already apologized plenty for mistaking you for a girl! How many times do I have to say it! Yuri: I didn't really need an apology, you know. Look at this face; there are plenty who make that mistake. In fact, I even think I should have conversed with you, even if I had to pretend to be a woman. There's nothing wrong with maintaining a relationship with the future Margrave, right? Sylvain: What an enthusiastic pick-up line… I can't help but feel strange myself.

What mattered to Sylvain was whether his brain registered someone as a girl. He tried to woo a crossdresser at a harvest festival. And the pick-up line he used on Yuri was changed in the localization. He called him "delicate as a little bird" in Japanese. And he was not turned off by the idea of Yuri pretending to be a woman with him.

Sylvain: ...Sorry. Well, I understand, but it seems my mind was refusing to comprehend... Certainly, you... I mean, you're a woman. Yes, a lovely young lady, indeed. Oh no, I've been rude. I'm terribly sorry, miss. Leonie: What's with that tone... Sylvain: I really am sorry. This is a first for me, too. Even if Leonie is ro… I mean, even if she's an active girl, something like this… Leonie: You were about to say "rough", right!?

He knew Leonie was a girl, but his mind just didn't see her as a one. He used the word"粗雑" (sozatsu). It means "rough" or "crude". Later, he compared her to a sunflower, rather than a delicate flower.

Sylvain: It might also be one of the knights… Oh, wait, me!? Ingrid: I'll hit you. Sylvain: W-wait, I was just kidding! I'm against violence! Being too rough ruins a beauty, you know! ………… Uh, well. I-I mean, when I say "beauty," I'm not talking about flirting or anything, yeah!

In his A+ Support with Ingrid, the Japanese word he used was "乱暴" (ranbou). It means "rough" or "violent" in English.

Sylvain: I'm weary from the nonstop battles. A gentle and beautiful young lady who can heal my troubled heart, I wonder if she’s lying around out there somewhere… (Best Answer): She might appear someday.

Even his notes to the advice box suggested that his ideal partner was a "Yamato Nadeshiko". The term describes the "flower of Japanese womanhood" or "traditional daughter of Japan". It's a nostalgic term for the perfect woman under the ideology of Japanese patriarchal society. Sylvain adored traditional femininity and wanted a partner who was the epitome of feminine beauty.

Sylvain: To be honest, I left home without telling my father, even though the country was in a difficult situation. Haha, I can imagine my father's angry face. "That idiot son of mine…" Haha, scary, scary…

But it was not because he was interested in upholding patriarchy. In fact, it he hated patriarchy and did not have a good relationship with the men in his life. His father was known as the "Wall of Ice". Matthias only cared about whether he had a Crest and could wield the Lance of Ruin. He didn't have much regard for his son's life and wanted him to take out a group of bandits by himself to earn his inheritance.

Ingrid: As you know, Sylvain and I have known each other since we were children. In the past, he often had bruises and other injuries on his face and body. Every time I asked, he would say he got them during training, but still…

And growing up, Sylvain was regularly beaten by his older brother.

Dimitri: Who's naïve and serious…? Besides, compared to you, most men are probably the same. Sylvain: Oh, really? A man who gives a dagger as a gift to a girl he likes is quite… Dimitri: How many years ago was that story? …If I seriously slap your head, will you forget about it? Sylvain: If I were hit with that monstrous strength, I'd die… It doesn't sound like a joke.

His Japanese voice acting during his C-Support with Dimitri conveyed a lot more distress than the English version did. Because of how overly serious Dimitri was, and his history of being abused, he genuinely could not tell that he was just joking about hitting him.

Sylvain: Ah, damn it… Joining the Empire… I wonder what Father would say… And then there's His Highness… He's definitely furious, right? That guy, when he's angry, he's downright terrifying… I wonder how I'll be killed… Just imagining it makes my legs tremble. However… it's your decision. I'll follow you…until the end. Haha, I wonder what's gotten into me. I should be scared out of my mind… and yet…

If you recruit Sylvain into CF, you'll learn that he was terrified of Dimitri's anger. He was a childhood friend, but he was never as close to him as he was to Ingrid and Felix. Dimitri was, after all, the future patriarch of the Kingdom with superhuman strength. Which would be kind of intimidating to an abuse victim. In CF, he calls Dimitri a stubborn "yarou". While he is on good terms with him in AM after his boar phase, he doesn't even have an A-Support with him.

Sylvain: Thinking that he's in the next room makes me hesitate to invite a girl over at night. I'm already scared and scared of the scolding the next morning... (Best Answer): Maybe I should reconsider the room assignments…

Sylvain's note to the advice box was about how he was afraid to invite girls to his room because Dimitri was next door. He didn't take his scoldings from Ingrid or Felix very seriously. But Dimitri's seriousness seemed to remind him of his father. And Sylvain was deathly afraid of his father. I'm sure that's why he felt like he had no way out of his arranged marriage.

Sylvain: As someone with a Crest, I was raised with great care by my parents. But my older brother, who didn't have a Crest, was suddenly treated very coldly when I was born. …My older brother even pushed me into a well and abandoned me in the snowy mountains. I understood it even as a child. I had taken everything from him. How could I complain in front of someone who wanted a Crest but couldn't get one? So, the persistent stares of women, the appraising looks of noble daughters… I had to smile and accept them. …Because I had the Crest.

Sylvain bears the Crest of Gautier which is associated with the Death Arcana in Tarot. And the theme of "death" certainly played a large role in his character arc. Growing up, he was constantly told that he should go die and his brother tried to kill him. But Death doesn't mean literal death. It signifies a time of significant transformation, transition, and change. The old version of you needs to "die" to allow the new you to be created. 

Sylvain: Ever since King Lambert passed away, I hardly get to see my childhood friends anymore…

Death also represents a resistance to change. In Hopes, if you take Sylvain on an expedition and ask him about his memories of the past, he sadly recounts how he and his old friends stopped hanging out much after King Lambert died. Sylvain would have been fifteen at the time. The same age he was when he hit on Lord Gwendal's daughter, prompting Ingrid to finally leave her room out of concern for him.

Sylvain: Actually, I have a history with Lord Gwendal. Yes, that was a story from many years ago. I met a lovely young lady, fell in love, and was nearly killed by her father… And that father happened to be Lord Gwendal. Oh boy, I was truly prepared to die at that time!

In Japanese, Sylvain's Classic Mode death quote uses the word "覚悟" (kakugo). It means "prepared for" or "mental readiness." And in Japanese, he uses that exact same word when talking about the Lord Gwendal incident. Sylvain's childhood antics (such as hitting on Ingrid's grandmother) could be seen as a harmless ploy for attention to compensate for his terrible home life. However, his involvement with Gwendal's daughter appeared to be way more serious.

Sylvain: …Well, whatever you think, Professor, I don't intend to change my attitude. You see, I may be a good-for-nothing, but I'm still a noble with a Crest… I try not to get involved in serious relationships. They only bring trouble. Eventually, I'll be quietly married off to some suitable partner and settle down.

Sylvain was extremely disingenuous with girls. He would use them for sex, then dump them in public. He was dreading the fact that his life would change after he got married and he blamed them for it.

Ingrid: Right? We're just childhood friends, right? Then why do I have to clean up after your messes? Sylvain: Haha, nobody asked you to do that! Well, just think of it as your role and accept it. For some reason, it's been like this since we were kids, and it'll probably continue. Ingrid: …Continue like this? So, you don't have any intention of changing your ways!?

The only way Sylvain knew how to cope with his fate was by pretending that he just couldn't resist falling in love with every cute girl that he laid eyes on. But the truth was that he disliked girls and was even afraid of them. He was being literal when he said he would stake his life on flirting.

Ingrid: You keep earning resentment from women, and eventually, you'll really get stabbed. Sylvain: Haha, well, if I get stabbed, I get stabbed. I suppose that's just how it goes. Ingrid: …Dying for such a silly reason is definitely not okay, are you stupid!? …Glenn was the type to make those kinds of jokes too. And he really never came back.

Ingrid's line in her B-Support with Sylvain was changed slightly. She specifically warned him that he would get stabbed if he didn't change his behavior. And he just laughed, as if he were prepared to die.

Sylvain: I just, uh… Well, you're going to think I'm being a jerk or hitting on you or whatever… When we're side by side like this, training, I feel— I don't know—oddly at ease. Ingrid: I know what you mean. It's probably because we've been friends for so long. Sylvain: That must be it. Let's never change. Friends forever?

All Sylvain wanted was for things to go back to how they were when he was a kid. In their Houses A-Support, he emphasized that he was not trying to hit on Ingrid. The idea that things wouldn't change between them just put him at ease.

Ingrid: What do you mean you feel relieved seeing me eat? Sylvain: Haha, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. Just seeing you enjoying your meal like that makes me, you know, feel relaxed. [...] Nobody can stay the same as they were in the past. You said something like that recently too, didn't you? That's why having something that doesn't change is really comforting for us.

In their Hopes A-Support, he offered to treat Ingrid to dinner not as an attempt to woo her, but just so that he could watch her eat. It was a relief to him that some people never change.

Sylvain: Hey Felix, you free? You must be free, right? Let's go flirt with some girls together again today. Felix: Tch… You're disturbing my training. Go by yourself. Sylvain: Don't say that. Come on, we've known each other for a long time, haven't we?

The one change that bothered Sylvain more than any other was the change in Felix's personality. While he didn't like girls becoming attached to him, he was sad that Felix seemed to have outgrown that tendency and no longer wanted to spend time with him.

Felix: We've certainly known each other for a while, but that's about it. Besides, it's not what I wanted. It was just our parents' wishes. Sylvain: So, you're saying it's a rotten relationship, huh?

The phrase "rotten relationship" is kinda hard to translate. It is "腐れ縁" (kusareen) in Japanese. It means "a relationship that cannot be severed even if one wants to." It's usually a relationship that has persisted for a long time, often against one's will or preference, because it is bound up in some work, social, or family obligation. It tends to have a negative connotation, implying that the relationship is undesirable or plagued by difficulties.

It was derived from "鎖縁" (kusari-en) or "chain relationship", a term that refers to a close and inseparable relationship between two people, often described as being bound together by chains. "Chain relationship" was a positive term referring to two people bound by fate, as if they were destined to be together. But over time, the "rotten" part was added, and it took on a negative connotation.

Felix: That boar prince, it's been a rotten relationship since birth… No, even before birth. That's why I'm warning you… He harbors a beast within. You can trust in his skill in combat and brute strength, but as a person, he's utterly untrustworthy. You better be careful not to be devoured yourself.

Felix used the exact same term when he warned Byleth about Dimitri in Chapter 2. And the way he described his relationship with Sylvain is actually a far more accurate description of his relationship with Dimitri. Felix did have fond memories of their childhood together, but Dimitri's sadistic smile while torturing the rebels was ingrained in his mind. After that, he no longer wanted to associate with him, but he couldn't break off their relationship due to his family.

Sylvain: So, you're saying it's a rotten relationship, huh? Come on now, Felix. You used to cling to me like glue back in the day. You couldn't beat your brother, got into fights with His Highness, and every time something happened, you came crying to me. Back then, you were so meek and innocent. I doted on you like a little brother… Felix: ...Enough.

Sylvain disagreed that his relationship with Felix was just a rotten relationship. The implication was that it was more of a chain relationship and Felix was trying to downplay how close they were because he was hurt by the way Sylvain was acting.

Felix: Listen. I've held back until now, but there are plenty of things I want to say to you. In your personal life and even on the battlefield, you're frivolous. Whenever something happens, it's always about women… Sylvain: Hmm, what's wrong with that? It's rude to ignore cute girls… Felix: There's a limit to that, you sex fiend. If your sword skills were solid, I could acknowledge that. But you slack off even in training… Do you not feel any guilt about hurting others' feelings and holding them back?

Sylvain's womanizing certainly hurt Felix's feelings, but he was even more hurt by his frivolousness in battle. The implication was that he had no choice but to double down on his training because he was always babysitting Sylvain on the battlefield.

Felix: Being in this military academy, one becomes speechless at the sheer number of fools who, indulged by the power of their Crests and the status of nobility, neglect their training. It's truly astounding. (Best response): It would be good to give them training.

Felix's note to the advice box was undoubtedly written with a particular person in mind.

Sylvain: You know, since way back, I've been doing stupid things, and you've always been there to yell at me… Felix: Both of us getting lectured by Ingrid because of you… Try to put yourself in my shoes, I got dragged into it every time. Sylvain: Yeah yeah, that's right. Our relationship hasn't changed no matter how many years have passed. But you've changed, Felix. You were so adorable when we were kids… Now, you've become completely warped. I wonder why you grew up like this… Felix: Tch… You, on the other hand, are still a good-for-nothing, just like in the past. Sylvain: Ahahaha, what's that? Is that something the person who has always been by my side would say? Even now, look, you came all the way to me with the intention to apologize for what happened the other day, right?

Sylvain wasn't intimidated by Felix. But being yelled at by him still hurt his feelings and he kept his distance afterwards. And Felix came crawling back to him to apologize. He couldn't sever their relationship even if he was so hurt that he may have wanted to. He was afraid of losing their friendship, so it proves he was lying when he called it a rotten relationship.

Felix: …The boar prince and I have been acquainted since before birth. Before I knew it, he was always by my side… You might even say that, at one time, we were best friends.

Dimitri and Felix were always together as little kids and Felix used to whine unless they could do everything together. I've seen some people say that they were best friends up until the incident suppressing the rebellion when they were 14 or 15. But that didn't appear to be the case. At the time the Tragedy of Duscur occurred, when he was 13, Dimitri considered Glenn his best friend.

Sylvain: However, both His Majesty and Felix have really grown up, haven't they? Ten years ago, they were the kind of guys who would squabble over breaking each other's swords and whatnot…

Felix always went crying to Sylvain whenever he and Dimitri fought. Dimitri broke Felix's sword when they were nine years old. So, even by that age, Felix was clingier with Sylvain than Dimitri.

Sylvain: A little laziness is just right. If you push yourself too hard, you'll just get tired. Oh yeah, I'll treat you to a meal, so let's go out to town together, Felix. Felix: No. Sylvain: Which is more important, going to town with me or training? Felix: Training. See ya.

Sylvain lamented how cute Felix used to be in Houses, Hopes, and even Heroes. He was the only male character that Sylvain was ever interested in spending time with one-on-one. He even invited him out to dinner like he did with girls. It is very likely that he was so sad about how much Felix changed because he used to be his ideal "girl".

Sylvain: More importantly, it's time for the ballroom dance now, isn't it? There's also the White Heron Cup competition, right? So, Professor, who are we sending from our class? (Byleth chooses Sylvain as the representative for the White Heron Cup) Sylvain: Huh, me? Well, um, that's fine I guess. It's a good opportunity to show the girls what I can do. (Byleth does NOT choose Sylvain as the representative for the White Heron Cup) (Japanese) Sylvain: If anything, I'd rather see a beauty dancing than watch a bastard dancing, you know. (English) Sylvain: I get it. No worries, really. I'd rather see a beautiful person dancing instead of some goof like me.

Sylvain lumped himself into the "yarou" category, too. He was eager to impress girls during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. But he will sound a bit disappointed if you choose him as the representative for the White Heron Cup. He's happier if you choose a beauty. The term he used for a "beauty" was "美人" (bijin). It means "beautiful person," but it is primarily used to refer to women.

It can sometimes be used to describe an exceptionally attractive man, although less commonly. Generally, "bijin" is more commonly associated with feminine beauty in Japanese language and culture. While it can technically be used to describe individuals of any gender who are considered beautiful, the term often carries connotations of traditional or stereotypical feminine beauty standards.

And since "yarou" is gendered, you'd think that "beautiful woman" would be the obvious way to translate that line, right? On the first day of school, “beautiful women” was used. But I have to give the localizers credit where credit is due. They used "person" rather than "woman". Because they knew Sylvain would not have minded one bit if Felix had been the White Heron Cup representative.

Felix: You seem like you have something to say. …You're not seriously considering choosing me as the representative for the White Heron Cup, are you? (Byleth does NOT choose Felix as the representative for the White Heron Cup) Felix: I see. That's fine then.

Felix is unsociable. He gets annoyed if Byleth stares at him too long during teatime and he struggles to maintain eye contact when talking to people. Yet he was not as opposed to participating in a dance contest as you'd expect. He even brought it up himself. If you don't pick him, he doesn't sound relieved like most of the others. In fact, in Japanese, I'd say he sounds a tiny bit disappointed. His objection seemed to be dancing with a girl, not dancing in general.

Felix: I'd much rather swing a sword at the training grounds than dance with a girl at the ball. Sylvain: Huh? Your Highness and Felix, are you joking…? You can dance with all the girls in the school. Do you mean to say that on such a wonderful day, you two dudes will be practicing swordplay with each other…? That doesn't seem like a sane idea!

One the "Night of Promises", Dimitri was not looking forward to the ball because he was sad that he was never going to rekindle his spark with Edelgard. He still attends the ball, and the cutscene shows him dancing next to Edelgard, as if to imply that he wished he was dancing with her instead. Felix felt the same way as Dimitri. He said he was going to skip out and train instead, something that made Sylvain sad. He used the word "yarou" once again here, emphasizing the masculine nature of the activity he's criticizing.

Felix: But… to the casual observer, it might not look entirely unlike a tryst between a man and a woman. If you're truly dissatisfied, then that's your compromise. Byleth: Unfriendly. Felix: Call it whatever you want. I'm about to head back to the training grounds.

If Byleth meets Felix at the Goddess Tower, his dialogue indicated that he did indeed skip the ball to practice at the training grounds.

Sylvain: When I heard you were heading to the Goddess Tower, I wondered who you were having a tryst with… I never expected you'd just be standing there alone, lost in thought. Byleth: Tryst...? Sylvain: Wait a minute. Seriously, what's going on? When someone goes to the Goddess Tower, isn't it to meet a lover? Here, vows exchanged are sure to be fulfilled… It's the lovers' sanctuary, you know. (Option 1) Byleth: Why did you come alone? Sylvain: Huh? Oh, well... Truth be told, I was curious about who you were waiting for. I hurried to catch up, only to find you alone in the end... Well, I must say, it put my mind at ease.

Sylvain goes to the Goddess Tower simply because he was curious about who Byleth was waiting for and was relieved to find out that she was alone. Then afterwards, he offers to make a vow with her.

(Option 2) Byleth: Don't you need to invite a female student? Sylvain: That's true. I could have invited someone, but my true love is right in front of me. Being alone at the Goddess Tower means I can try to woo you, right?

The phrase Sylvain used for "true love" was "本命の相手" (honmei no aite). "本命の" (honmei no) translates to "main," or "primary". "相手" (aite) translates to "partner" or "opponent," depending on the context. The phrase typically refers to the person that the individual truly loves or considers as their ideal romantic interest.

HOWEVER. It also translates as "favorite opponent" in specific contexts, particularly in sports or competitive activities where "aite" means "opponent" or "rival." In that context, it refers to the most formidable opponent in a competition or match, the one whom the athlete or team considers their top rival or challenger.

Byleth: …Me? Sylvain: Yes. Who else would I be talking about?

Who else would he be talking about? Well maybe someone who spends a lot of time with Byleth as a sparring partner? Someone who was absent from the ball? Perhaps someone he made a promise together with in the past?

Sylvain: Hey, Professor, I won't make you unhappy. So, how about getting married… Byleth: You're not trustworthy. Sylvain: Haha, well, that's true.

Sooo. Why did Sylvain go to the Goddess Tower? Was Byleth his true love? Or was she actually his primary rival for his true love? Well, I think we can rule out the "true love" option.

Felix: This is troublesome… The enemy is just a bunch of thieves. I doubt there are any skilled fighters among them. Sylvain: Don't be so cold. I'm looking forward to it. Come on, there might be a beautiful female thief among them.

Felix was always trying to prove his worth in battle. And Sylvain was always goofing off because he didn't value his own life. Before the group's first battle against bandits in Houses, he wasn't acting serious because there would most likely not be skilled fighters among them. He even made a joke about flirting with one of them.

Felix: If they're in a state of confusion right now, we can easily round them all up. I'm on my way. Sylvain: …No, no, no, hold on a second. Don't you think there's something strange about that fortress?

In Hopes, the bandits were a much greater threat than they anticipated, and Sylvain completely changed his tune. You gain Support points with Felix if you suggest charging the fort. But you gain points with Sylvain if you suggest a more cautious approach.

Sylvain: Ah, I thought since it's a festival day, there wouldn't be any lectures, and we could play all day… Hey, Professor. Even if you were planning an assassination, would you really choose the day of the Rite of Rebirth for it? I feel like there might be times when security is less tight. Or is there a reason it has to be this day?

Before the Rite of Rebirth, there was an assassination attempt on Lady Rhea. Sylvain didn't take it seriously because he knew the monastery's security would be tighter than ever on that day, and he was just goofing off and chatting up Hilda.

Sylvain: …But it's strangely quiet these days. Is it because the knights are out and about? Felix: I heard the knights are putting all their effort into tracking down the enemy. Sylvain: Putting all their effort… Isn't that a bit too much? Is it okay to neglect the monastery's defense? Felix: …How do you see this situation? Byleth: Maybe you're worrying too much. Sylvain: Is that so… Well, I hope the knights come back soon.

But after Jeralt was killed by intruders, he was standing with Felix, worrying about the thin security with all the knights out looking for the enemy. It's a very nice bit of subtle storytelling, showing that, even if he seemed like he was always goofing off, he was serious about Felix's safety and always kept an eye on him.

Sylvain: Come to think of it, you don't like sweets, huh? Well, thanks. I'll eat it later. …So, what do you want me to do? Ah, you want me to play matchmaker with a girl? Felix: Is your head filled with sugar or something? I'm just here to thank you for the battle the other day. If you hadn't noticed the ambush, I would probably be dead by now. Sylvain: Oh, right... But isn't that just how it goes? On the battlefield, it's all about mutual support. That's what comrades do, right? Felix: …You haven't changed a bit. Sylvain: Yeah, I'm still the same as ever. Felix: You always…

Felix is the only partner who will confess their feelings for Sylvain at the end of the Support chain. You could tell that he was mulling it over in the A-Support. He even brought a gift of sweets for Sylvain before he planned to tell him how he felt. But he chickened out. Still, he was going to say that he was grateful to Sylvain for always protecting him ever since they were kids.

Sylvain: His Majesty or Felix would probably make better hunting partners than me. I prefer to just sit back and watch.

While there are no specific childhood anecdotes related to this, a comment Sylvain made during his Hopes expedition did imply that he occasionally accompanied Dimitri and Felix on their hunting trips.

Felix: Boars are naturally wary animals, but this one seems injured… If it senses us, it'll charge. We can't afford to get injured by its massive rush. Raphael: Huh? Felix, you sound like you've fought something like this before? Felix: It's a story from many years ago, but I once let a similar quarry slip away. [...] House Blaiddyd and House Fraldarius used to go on hunting trips together. On one trip, a certain prince killed so many deer it proved impossible to fit them all on the sled. Meanwhile, I went off hunting on my own, encountered the boar, and barely escaped with my life.

Felix had a near-death encounter with a wild boar as a child. And I strongly suspect that Sylvain was the one who saved his life and got pretty hurt in the process.

Felix: You've always been like this since we were kids. Normally so unreliable, but you've always thrown yourself in harm's way and helped us when it really counted. …Every time you managed to put on that carefree smile for us, I cannot deny that I wanted to hug you a little. Sylvain: O-Oh… You're the one spouting those kinds of lines? Have you eaten something strange? Felix: Tch… I won't say it again, you fool! Now that I know you're safe, I'm going back to my room.

In the A+ Support, Felix will finally say what he was thinking back in the A-Support. He will mention how Sylvain would literally put his body on the line and then smile afterwards. And Sylvain told Marianne that a smile was the true measure of a person's worth. He always smiled because it made him feel strong.

Felix uses the word "抱いていた" (dakishiteita). It means "embrace" or "hold." It can mean to literally hold, hug, or embrace someone in a physical sense. Or it can be used metaphorically to express the idea of cherishing or harboring a feeling of admiration or longing. But the writers probably chose that word for its dual meaning.

Felix was certainly trying to communicate his admiration for Sylvain's ability to smile even when he's hurt and in a lot of pain. And in doing so, he made his intense longing for Sylvain clear. And I do not think the localizers were wrong to have Felix express his desire to hug Sylvain in a literal sense. It was all part of the same package.

Sylvain: Alright, alright. Then I'll wait while having a meal until you feel like it. Come on, Felix, let's grab a meal in town. I'll treat you. How about some meat? Felix: …Alright. I owe you one. Just for today, I'll go along. Sylvain: After we fill our stomachs, then we can go chat up some girls… Felix: ………. Sylvain: Just kidding, jeez, you're really short-tempered. Come on, let's go together, Felix!

Sylvain offered to treat Felix to dinner in their B-Support, and he got rejected. In the A-Support, he offered again, and Felix agreed because he owed him. Now, Sylvain offered to treat Byleth—even the male—to dinner in his Paralogue because he saved his life, and he owed him. So, that probably wasn't what he wanted to hear.

In Sylvain's mind, relationships were always transactional, and he was very suspicious over whether anyone really wanted to spend time with him. He even suspected that Felix came to give him the sweets just so he could set him up with a girl. So, he apparently tested Felix's intentions by suggesting they chat up girls afterward. Ya know, just to make sure they're on the same page and it's really a date. In light of what Felix intended to say, it's clear why he was upset.

Sylvain: ...Hey, uh, Ingrid. Training again today? Ingrid: No, today I'm going to the city to buy supplies. Training comes afterward. Is there something wrong? Sylvain: N-no, you're still as serious as ever, huh? Some things never change. Ingrid: …What are you talking about? I haven't changed at all. Sylvain: Y-yeah, you're right, haha. Ingrid: …Hey, what's up, Sylvain? Did you eat something strange? Sylvain: N-no, it's not that. Um… Have you found someone you like?

Sylvain was always smooth whenever he was flirting with girls. But in his A+ Support with Ingrid, he was incredibly flustered and stumbling over his words. He's a completely different person when he's really fallen for someone. Taken at face-value, the player would assume that he has fallen for Ingrid. And while that is certainly a valid interpretation, it actually isn't the only interpretation. He was particularly worried that she had been training a lot lately.

Sylvain: No, it's not like I'm flustered or anything. …I was just a little curious about the reason, that's all. Ingrid: …The reason for the makeup, huh. What do you think it is? Sylvain: Well… Is it because of a guy? If we're talking about someone you might like, going by your past tendencies… Felix…No, His Highness is also a possibility.

And the first person he asked about was Felix, due to Ingrid's history with Glenn and how Felix had changed to be more like him. But was it because he was afraid Felix would steal Ingrid from him? Or was he afraid Ingrid would steal Felix from him? While many people consider Ingrid the "canon" love interest for Sylvain, they deliberately left their A+ Support open to interpretation. I have no doubt that the writers preferred Felix as Sylvain's love interest, but they didn't want to make a gay pairing too obvious, so they left it open for Ingrid, too.

Sylvain: I've been given the opportunity for revenge. I won't waste it… even if it means stabbing each other to death…!

Regardless of which one you interpret as his love interest, Ingrid and Felix were the two most important people to Sylvain. If you do not recruit them in CF, they will die at Arianrhod, and Sylvain's dialogue changes in response during "Field of Revenge". The Japanese verb he uses "刺し違える" (sashichigaeru) literally refers to stabbing one another and killing each other.

Sylvain: Professor! Has it really been five years? We ought to raise a glass to the occasion. Celebrate your return. Nah, I'd rather commemorate it with your death.

Sylvain's CF arc is very interesting. He becomes like Miklan. The foreshadowing in his B-Support with Byleth was intended for this exact moment. He was so jealous of Byleth's ability to live freely that he wanted to kill them. And now he gets the chance. He doesn't care if he dies as long as he gets his revenge for his two friends. Sylvain felt like his parents only valued him for his Crest and his brother wanted him dead. But those two really loved him. He was so driven to kill Byleth in CF because s/he took everything from him.

Mercedes: You can't choose where you're born. It's like flowers not being able to choose where they bloom. Since we don't suffer from hunger or thirst, we can't complain even if the place is cramped. It's the same for both of us… We all have to bloom where we're planted. Sylvain: It's true that flowers can't choose where to bloom. They can't go where they want to go until they die, and if the environment is bad, they will just wither away.

Because of the arranged marriage looming over his head, Sylvain felt like a flower with his roots firmly planted. He didn't feel like he could go where he wanted to go until he died.

Sylvain: Finally… I can go to the place where they are… I'm sorry, Your Majesty… I… will go ahead and wait… Dimitri: Thank you, Sylvain. I will also… definitely go to where you all are.

And where did he want to go? To the place where Ingrid and Felix were. CF!Sylvain was relieved that he could finally join them upon his death, something that was sadly not included in the localized version. That line was especially relevant to his relationship with Felix because they promised to die together.

Sylvain: Me… disliking girls? Hahaha, no way, no way, not at all! I'm always serious when it comes to girls. I put my life on the line to woo them. Dorothea: You should focus on one person and then say that. You only have one life, and usually, there's only one person you can love enough to stake your whole life on.

Sylvain has the fewest number of paired endings out of any student. Understandably, very few women would consider marrying him. Mercedes would in order to escape her arranged marriage, but she'd have to give up her dream. And Ingrid would because she loved him and thought she needed to take care of him or else he'd end up like Glenn. But she'd also have to give up her dream.

In his S-Support proposal, Byleth was not quite sure if Sylvain was being sincere because he was still using shallow words. And Dorothea did not trust him, either, because he had to propose to her at least ten times. And of course, Dorothea will marry pretty much any nobleman in the game to secure her future. Felix had no one pressuring him and nothing to gain from being with Sylvain.

Sylvain: Do you remember? We made a promise when we were kids. That we'd die together. Felix: ...I remember. Sylvain: So, you see, there's no way I'd die before you and leave you behind.

In English, "dying together" could be taken as platonic. Just brothers-in-arms or best friends. However, there's a cultural nuance to it in Japanese because that phrase is often used in a romantic context. It implies that they will not just die but spend their whole lives together. It was, in essence, a marriage proposal.

Felix: …Well, I suppose that's true. But I'm fed up with getting terrified like this. You shouldn't just fool around all the time. Take your training seriously for once. …If you end up carelessly throwing your life away, I won't be able to die with you. Sylvain: Yeah, you're right. Once I'm healed, I'll try to be a bit more serious.

Felix uses the phrase "肝を冷やす" (kimo-o-hiyasu). It's an expression that literally translates to "cooling the liver" but figuratively means "to be frightened" or "to be scared stiff." It refers to the feeling of fear or nervousness that causes a person's body temperature to drop, often likened to a sensation of chilling one's liver.

Their entire Support chain was about how Felix never really changed. He always prioritized his training over hanging out because he was absolutely terrified that Sylvain would get himself killed and they wouldn't have a future together. After finally realizing this, Sylvain reaffirmed his childhood promise. He no longer wanted to die.

Sylvain: Anyway, I suppose you just said the things I usually say, right? Even if it's the same pick-up line, serious guys' words are taken seriously.

When Felix said Sylvain was frivolous in their C-Support, he used the word "不真面目" (fumajime). When Sylvain said he'd be more serious from now on, he used the word "真面目" (majime), which is the opposite. He also used this word in his Support with Dimitri. It means "serious" or "earnest" in English. It describes someone who is diligent, takes things seriously, and is sincere.

The "Sincerest of Knights" was not just saying that he would take his training seriously. He was also saying that he would take his personal life seriously. He wouldn't be frivolously going around picking up girls and telling them he loves them enough to stake his life on them anymore. Because he already found the one.

Sylvain: These five years, fighting and fighting… Finally, the tough times have come to an end. A new era is about to begin. …So, I thought it's about time I put an end to my own fate. Byleth: Put an end to? Sylvain: Yes. My fate is not determined by something like a Crest; it's determined by me… This is the first step towards that. Not someone trying to use my Crest, not someone decided by someone else, and not just a playmate…

Death is the arcana of transformation and typically refers to a need to start over by letting go of the past. It is about moving forward from outworn and outgrown ways of life. And that's what Sylvain's character arc was all about, regardless of whether he marries Byleth.

The term for "put an end to" is "けじめ" (kejime). It can be translated as "closure," "settling accounts," "bringing something to an end," or "establishing a clear boundary." It suggests that Sylvain is finally ready to confront his fear, establish firm boundaries with his father, and decide for himself who he forms intimate relationships with.

Sylvain: But our feet aren't roots. We can move ourselves and go where we want. If we navigate cleverly, we might not have to give up what we want to do. [...] I'm not trying to court you or anything like that. But if I, as the legitimate son of Gautier, were to propose to you… The other party would have no choice but to withdraw. It might sour our relations a bit, though. Afterward, you can do as you please. You can work at the church or become whatever you want. Mercedes: But if you did that, Sylvain, you wouldn't be able to marry the person you love, right? Sylvain: Hahaha, I'm not being serious about that.

Sylvain is a Gemini. Being the Twins, they'll flit from person to person to see what everyone has to offer, but once they commit, their lives are complete and whole. Because he and Felix made such a promise before the game even started, it suggests that they were both in love with each other, regardless of whether you go for their paired ending.

And if Sylvain already had someone that he wanted to spend his life with, but that he wasn't free to do so because they were the wrong gender to produce heirs, then it casts his behavior in a different light. His storyline was about forbidden love. He changes his behavior in Hopes because he realizes that he can go where he wants and doesn't have to give up on being with the person he loves.

Felix: I was raised to value strength above all else. Whereas you had a reason, an ambition, pushing you toward that hunger. So, tell me. What was the reason? Why were you driven to become so strong?

Not only is Sylvix the best relationship for Sylvain's growth, but it is also the best relationship for Felix's too. Felix was also a victim of Faerghus's patriarchal culture. He was taught to swing a sword before he could write and was raised with the motto: "Grow strong so you may live, and live to grow stronger".

Felix: It's like training with my brother. He always won—always—and died before I could win a single bout. From the first time I held a sword, all I wanted was to surpass him. And that's what drove me to become so strong.

Since Felix was a child, his main ambition in life was to surpass his brother, who he always lost to while sparring. And that sense of purpose continued to subconsciously drive him, even nine whole years after he died.

Rodrigue: …My eldest son was quite outstanding, you know. He was knighted at the age of fifteen.

Glenn possessed exceptional swordsmanship ability. Felix was probably so obsessed with surpassing his brother at swordplay because he was trying to earn the admiration of his father.

Felix: Sorry, but I'm not "Emile." And of course, I'm not your brother. Tch… It's so annoying being compared to someone else. Mercedes: I'm really sorry… I'll be on my way then. …Oh, the tea refill is here. Please help yourself if you'd like. …Well, see you. Felix: …I am me. Regardless of what anyone says, I'm not anyone else. …Isn't that right…Brother.

The English localization changed several lines in Felix's C-Support with Mercedes, giving it a slightly different meaning than the original Japanese version. The verb used by Felix is "重ねる" (kasaneru). It means "to pile up" or "to layer". Metaphorically, in this context, it conveys the concept of overlapping an image of one person with someone else, because they remind you of them. The Japanese version made it sound like "You're you, not anyone else" was something Glenn had to remind Felix often.

Shez: Is Dimitri really that much like his dad? Rodrigue: Oh, yes, absolutely. Well, the late King was a bit more hot-headed, it seems… Compared to me and my son, they are spitting images of each other. See, we don't resemble each other much. Shez: Yeah, you're really not very similar at all. Your looks aside, of course.

The concept of "kasaneru" played into Rodrigue's relationship with both of his sons. He had trouble viewing them as their own people, rather than just reflections of himself. He was very proud that Glenn took after him and disappointed that Felix did not. He also projected his own feelings onto Glenn. While it did seem like he chose to defend Dimitri to the death, he was not satisfied to die.

Felix: …Hmph. It's a waste to keep someone like you as a woman. Leonie: Oh, come on. That's what's wrong with you. Strength has nothing to do with gender. It's because you underestimate your opponent that you fall into traps. Felix: …Yeah, you're right.

I've seen some people accuse Felix of being a misogynist because of several comments he made to female characters. One comment was to Ingrid about finding a husband, which I'll get to later. Another was his comment to Leonie about being impressive "for a girl". His comment in Japanese is actually entirely different. He was saying that Leonie is so strong that it's a waste because strength isn't a trait that is appreciated or expected of females in Fódlan.

Felix was implying that her talents might be better suited for manhood. And she actually made him question that way of thinking. This Support showed how Felix was aware that some people don't naturally conform traditional gender roles and it would make their lives much easier if they were the opposite sex. Which is something he had undoubtedly thought about himself.

Felix: It's all well and good to remember the dead, but sentimentality will get you killed. All the tears in the world couldn't bring them back, after all. Ingrid: You have always viewed the world in such stark terms. It might even be one of your strengths. But one day, you will learn that emotions and sentimentality are also a strength, not a curse.

Felix is a Pisces, which is considered one of the most feminine signs of the zodiac due to its association with sensitivity, intuition, empathy, and creativity. Pisceans are often described as dreamy, compassionate, and deeply empathetic individuals who are attuned to the emotions and needs of others. As a child, Felix was meek, innocent, clingy, and would cry easily. These are stereotypically feminine traits which would certainly not be valued in a strength-obsessed culture like Faerghus. And especially not in a boy.

Felix: I am tired of it. For years, I've been forced to be a "replacement" for the dead. I had an excellent brother. He was a splendid knight worthy of admiration… He's dead now. After my brother's death, his presence haunted me like a shadow.

The Mother Goddess archetype is a powerful and ancient symbol found in various cultures and mythologies around the world. It represents the qualities of nurturing, fertility, protection, wisdom, and interconnectedness. Some examples are Isis from ancient Egyptian mythology and Mother Mary in Christianity. Sothis was the embodiment of the divine feminine principle.

The one who embodied the divine masculine principle was Nemesis. He represented the Warrior Hero archetype, which embodies qualities such as courage, strength, and valor. Figures like Achilles in Greek mythology, King Arthur in Arthurian legends, and Beowulf in Anglo-Saxon literature exemplify the ideals of the Warrior Hero.

Despite being the most religious country, the actual values of Faerghus were much more aligned with the Warrior Hero than the Mother Goddess. The Crest of Fraldarius is associated with the Emperor arcana. It represents the divine masculine principle. As the replacement heir, Felix's patriarchal duty was to serve as the king's sword and shield. But he hated the ideals of chivalry.

Dimitri: Heh. You know, Felix, you really are growing more and more like your brother. Always so sarcastic, and constantly looking for a fight. But deep inside, more than anyone, you—

The concept of "kasaneru" factored into Dimitri and Felix's relationship as well. Felix's gruff personality was not the natural effect of puberty. It was the result of being forced into a role he wasn't suited for. He hated bloodshed. His first battle left him horrified and he needed to desensitize himself to cope. After losing his brother and becoming a squire, his naturally sentimental and meek personality changed to become more like his brother, "sarcastic and constantly looking for a fight". Stereotypically masculine traits.

Bernadetta: Felix, did you just smile? And it was a really big smile, right? Hehehe, it's like cracking open a tough nut and finding a sweet smile inside… Felix: Tch… Don't get cocky, silly girl. Bernadetta: Oh no, the shell closed! Felix: …You've got guts to tease me like that. Seems like you really want to get in trouble.

The word Bernadetta used was "甘い" (amai). It is used for "sweet" and, just like in English, is often used to describe something that is sweet in taste or metaphorically sweet in demeanor or expression. In Japan, sweets are culturally coded as childish and feminine and liking meat is considered masculine. Did Felix truly not like sweets? Or did he just avoid them because of how they are perceived?

Bernadetta: Felix, please try this. This candy has a reputation for not being sweet. (Normal) Felix: I refuse. Whether it's sweet or not, I don't like candy. (Felix & Lysithea support level B reached) Felix: Candy, huh... If you say it's not sweet, should I take some?

It's worth noting that Felix will refuse to eat unsweet candy that Bernadetta offers him in their A+ Support. But he will actually give the candy a try if he has reached B-Support with Lysithea, after he tries her cake. And in their paired ending, he gives up the sword to spend to his life baking sweets with her. So, it suggests that he was just concerned with keeping up appearances.

Felix: If I were to die here, would you say something like you did when it was my brother? "That's the true end for a knight."

During World War II, ultra-nationalists popularized Yamato Nadeshiko as the female manifestation of Yamato Damashii. It is the term for an idealized Japanese man and refers to the traditional virtues and characteristics associated with him. These include loyalty, courage, honor, selflessness, and a strong sense of duty. This concept is deeply rooted in Japanese culture and history, reflecting the values upheld by the samurai class and other historical figures. The Kamikaze suicide pilots were said to embody Yamato Damashii.

Dimitri: My closest friend was a knight who served the royal family. He was near to my own age, and I admired him greatly. But one day, I watched him die. He stood his ground and fought bravely, but his life was snuffed out in the blink of an eye all the same. Ingrid: I always looked up to Glenn. He was the very picture of a perfect knight—noble and virtuous. In the end, he laid down his life—the ultimate sacrifice. I feel proud of him in ways that words can't quantify. Rodrigue: To this day, I'm proud of Glenn. He gave his life to protect Prince Dimitri. If he had abandoned His Highness and fled, I don't know that I could have forgiven him… I would have been deeply ashamed.

Glenn was less a character and more an archetype. He represented the ideal man of Faerghus that Felix was supposed to aspire to be. Since he was a child, his purpose in life was getting strong enough to beat Glenn at sparring. He felt like he would only be valued if he became more like his brother. And after the Tragedy of Duscur, he felt like his father would only value him if he died.

Sylvain: The old Felix was really adorable, but what happened to make him like that? (Best Answer): Say it's part of growing up.

Whenever Felix lost to Glenn at sparring, he would go crying to Sylvain. It is likely that Sylvain was the one person, other than Glenn, who made Felix feel appreciated for who he really was. Rodrigue, Dimitri, and Ingrid always talked about how admirable Glenn was. Sylvain always talked about how adorable Felix was and was sad about how he had changed. After losing his brother, Felix probably felt like his purpose in life was keeping his promise with Sylvain.

(If Byleth is male) Felix: Having heard of your skills, I'm eager to meet you in battle. Come to the training ground later. There, you will show me what you're capable of.

Regardless of gender, Felix viewed Byleth as his personal rival, just like he did with Glenn when he was a kid.

(If Byleth is female) Sylvain: Such benevolence is a sight to behold! I don't suppose you would care to join me for tea? We could discuss education…and marriage. Felix: Control yourself, Sylvain. I have more important matters to discuss with our new professor. Come to the training ground later. There, you will show me what you're capable of.

Although, interestingly, it was Sylvain's marriage proposal that prompted him to challenge Female Byleth to a sparring match when she first became Professor.

Felix: …What. I thought it might be someone else, but it's you. Byleth: Meeting someone? Felix: I didn't have such plans. …I just wanted to come to a quiet place.

Felix skipped the ball. But he was already at the Goddess Tower when Byleth arrived. He said he just needed some quiet, but wouldn't the training grounds already be quiet on the night of the ball? In Japanese, it's clearer that he was actually expecting someone else instead of her. There's only one person he could possibly have had in mind. The person he made a promise with long ago.

Felix: You know the legend of the Goddess Tower, don't you? The one where vows always come true. It's so absurd it makes me feel like vomiting…but trying to believe in it might be amusing. Let's make a vow to the Goddess of Fódlan. I will… I will, someday, surpass you. I'll surpass your sword, your skills, and as a warrior, I'll defeat you.

Byleth rejected Sylvain's request to exchange vows. And her vow with Felix was quite unromantic. Before swearing his vow, Felix closed his eyes, which he also does in his A+ Support when he remembers his promise with Sylvain.

Byleth: What kind of vow is that? Felix: What, unsatisfied? If you're looking for a romantic relationship, I'm sorry, but hit up some other man. Unfortunately, I've lived a life devoid of such things. Blades, blood, and battles. That's all I am.

Felix wasn't disinterested in love. He was disillusioned with love. After feeling unloved by his father and cheated on by Sylvain, he was trying to fill the void of love with strength. The only way he knew how to prove his worth to himself was on the battlefield. And that was the only sense of purpose he had left in life, anyway.

Felix: Once I decided to fight alongside you and the emperor, I was prepared. …Prepared to abandon my country, to strike down my father, and to kill a man I once called a friend. But… my sword feels a bit heavy.

I found Felix's character arc in CF very interesting due to the whole "rotten relationships" idea. Remember how it means "a bad relationship that cannot be cut even if you try"?

Dimitri: Felix… You killed Rodrigue… your own father. Felix: I decided to cut down anyone who stood in my way. Even if it's my own father… Even if it's a friend I spent my childhood with. Dimitri: I see. After this exchange… I have finally resolved to kill you.

When it came down to literally cutting Dimitri out of his life, CF!Felix was very hesitant. He had a sad expression during this dialogue. And it was the same when he fought Ingrid.

Sylvain: Hey, Felix… Remember back when we were kids? We promised we'd die together, didn't we? Felix: ...Yeah, I remember. Sylvain: So… Now, it's gonna be you and me, killing each other. Felix: …Sorry, Sylvain. I'm gonna have to let you die first.

However, he showed absolutely NO hesitation killing Sylvain. In fact, he was even colder to him than he was to Rodrigue. Sylvain was clearly the real target of Felix's revenge in this chapter, not the boar. When Ingrid warned Sylvain that he was going to get stabbed if he kept cheating, it was probably foreshadowing for this moment.

Sylvain did not take CF!Ingrid's disloyalty personally and was not angry at her. He was just happy that her stubbornness hadn't changed. But he was very angry at CF!Felix. It was the betrayal he wanted revenge for. He specifically brought up their promise before expressing his desire to fight to the death. He was fully prepared to be stabbed to death, but he wanted to take Felix with him.

Rodrigue: Hmm. The dreams I held dear as a child have either already come true…or never will.

The Hero's Relic of House Fraldarius is the Aegis Shield, a reference to Greek mythology. It's likely no coincidence that Rodrigue's middle name is "Achille". He was probably inspired by Achilles, the warrior hero from the Iliad. Achilles' strong reaction to his childhood companion Patroclus' death is often taken as a sign that their relationship was possibly deeper than friendship. He lamented, "My dear comrade Patroclus has fallen—he whom I valued more than all others, and loved as dearly as my own life? I have lost him."

Rodrigue: No matter how much we grieve, the dead won't return. There's no way for them to hear our words. That's why their presence binds those living in the present like a curse. The more we cherished them, the more we become entangled and suffer… I'm not strong enough to scold His Highness for his foolishness. Byleth: Even so… Rodrigue: Yes. It seems scolding and getting them back on their feet is our duty as adults, isn't it? …Despite speaking so arrogantly, in the end, I am unfit to be an adult, aren't I?

When I first played AM and got to the scene called "Entrusting the Future", I assumed Rodrigue was still talking about Glenn when he lamented how the dead can't return.

Rodrigue: We both have a disposition where we can't just live without purpose. Both Felix and me. I lived to serve him, the late King Lambert… to support him as his right hand. Having lost the king I should serve, having lost the purpose of my life… I thought about what I should live for… And in the end, I made fulfilling our promise my new purpose. Shez: A promise… What was the promise about? Rodrigue: He asked me to admonish and correct his child if he ever strayed from the right path.

But after playing AG, there was another scene called "Entrusting the Future". And I realized he was actually talking about Lambert all along, not Glenn. AM!Rodrigue understood why Felix hated him for his comment about Glenn's death and he didn't blame him.

Dimitri: Every time I see the expression of longing on your face when you remember my father, there's always a thought that crosses my mind. I wonder if you wished to live and die alongside him. Rodrigue: …Haha, you're overthinking it, Your Majesty. Despite appearances, I consider myself quite resilient. No, I didn't wish for my own death when Lambert passed. However… if it were to fulfill a promise with him, I believe I'd be satisfied to die.

The concept of "kasaneru" played a large role in Rodrigue's relationship with Dimitri. It was very telling that he decided that his new reason to live was not to help his surviving son get back on his feet, but instead keeping his promise to Lambert. Dimitri had strayed from the right path, but Rodrigue could not scold him. In VW, this enabling caused Dimitri to throw everyone's lives away at Gronder Field. In AM, when the consequences of Dimitri's actions came back to bite him, Rodrigue took the punishment on himself, stating how there are no sins or punishments on the battlefield.

Rodrigue: He left home on his own, and now… this foolish son of mine. Felix: I have no intention of returning to you. Nor do I have any intention of returning to that boar. Rodrigue: …When a child misbehaves, it's the parent's responsibility. Felix… right here and now, you'll die!

Yet Rodrigue said he would not have forgiven Glenn if he had run away at Duscur. He could not even forgive his own teenage son for an act of cowardice on the battlefield. And if Felix joins CF, he has absolutely NO problems punishing him with death. I could understand and empathize with Rodrigue more after playing AG. I don't think he was a bad person. But he was certainly a bad father. He valued Lambert's (and Dimitri's) life above all others, even his own. And even his own sons. And Felix could pick up on that.

Felix: So, the old man's dead… Dimitri: Yes. Felix: I'll cut you down. Prepare yourself, you damn boar! Dimitri: Very well. Come at me, Felix!

There is unused dialogue that was apparently meant to be an alternate scenario based on whether Felix was defeated in Part 1 and was unrecruited in Part 2. I suspect much of his vitriol towards Dimitri in AM stemmed from jealousy over his father's affection. And because of him, he lost the chance to ever make up with his father. Their AM battle dialogue is the opposite of CF. This Felix had no hesitation cutting Dimitri out of his life violently and was prepared to die with him.

Felix: Sylvain, stand aside. My blade thirsts for his blood, not yours. Sylvain: Then surrender already. I don't want to fight you, either! Felix: …Sorry. That isn't up for discussion.

But he had no desire to cut Sylvain down. Because they could not finish their Support chain, Felix could not reaffirm his promise and find a new reason to live. I'm sure Sylvain knew that he was throwing his life away by trying to kill Dimitri and he was desperate to stop him. It's hard to overstate just how much more emotional Sylvain sounded in Japanese. He really did NOT want to fight Felix.

Rodrigue: Remember when I told you about the time I acted foolishly and got myself into trouble? Lambert broke through enemy lines and told me, "Don't waste your life." Although he was covered in wounds, so it wasn't very persuasive, was it? Dimitri: Haha, indeed. You two were truly good friends. I'm so envious of my father. Rodrigue: Haha, saying that would only make my son jealous. He'd ask, "What am I to you?"

As a descendant of the hero Fraldarius, Felix was expected to have the same kind of bond with Dimitri that Kyphon had with Loog and Rodrigue had with Lambert. But I never got the impression that he did. In Hopes, he inherits his father's title and position as the king's right-hand, similar to his solo ending in Houses.

His duty was to act as the Shield of Faerghus, and that involved protecting Dimitri, primarily from his own suicidal recklessness. That was a role he played in Houses as well, but he was mainly protecting Sylvain from himself instead of Dimitri. That's not to say that Felix did not care for Dimitri's safety in Houses. He just delegated those duties to Byleth, like when he asked her to "cage the boar".

Sylvain: Be careful, will you? …Jeez, you've even got bruises on your neck. If something were to happen to you, we don't know what will become of Faerghus, do we? Felix: I won't say it'll go smoothly without me, but I always assume I might die on the battlefield. Sylvain: Seriously, Felix… if you were to disappear now, what would happen to Faerghus and His Majesty?

It did not seem like being the Shield of Faerghus gave Felix a true sense of purpose or a reason to live. Sylvain's appeals for him to survive because Faerghus and Dimitri needed him did not seem to be very effective. In Hopes, he was pretty nonchalant about dying on the battlefield, causing Sylvain to scold him for being reckless. It was the exact opposite of their Houses Supports.

Sylvain: You and me, we'll support His Majesty and Faerghus, by complementing each other's weaknesses. Felix: …Yeah. Um… in the future too, I'll count on you. I hate to admit it, but I probably need you. Maybe. Besides… without you, everyone else would be insufferably gloomy. Sylvain: I get it. You don't have to say it. I'll always be with you, no matter what.

In Hopes, Felix was there to help Dimitri get back on his feet, both literally and figuratively. But Sylvain was the only one he could ever lean on. Felix was raised to believe it was his duty to be a literal human shield. And that's why it meant so much to him that Sylvain would always protect him.

Shez: Well, you know, Sylvain, who always fights with you, ends up being swarmed by enemies... Felix: …That's because every time, he boasts about taking charge with nonsense like "Leave it to me." Well, I believe he'd manage to get through any predicament, no matter how dire.

There was a change in Felix's C-Support with Shez. The localization stated that Felix would always get surrounded by enemies when fighting with Sylvain. But in the Japanese, it was the opposite.

Matthias: Rodrigue, fall back with the duke. The escape route is secured… Leave it to me. Rodrigue: Matthias… What a fool. Make sure you come back alive. You must! Matthias: It's been a while since I've fought to protect a friend's back. My blood is boiling with youthful fervor! Claude: Risking your life to let allies escape, huh? That's the knightly spirit of Faerghus we admire.

When Matthias died in GW, he said he would be waiting for Rodrigue and Lambert on the other side. It's extremely similar to what Sylvain says when he dies in CF. And there were many parallels between Sylvain and his father in Hopes.

Felix: I can still stand… I can still wield my sword. I can still fight…! Tch… With injuries like these, I won't withdraw…! Sylvain: Felix! Stand down! Aww, look at you all beaten up… Leave this to us and fall back, okay? Felix: Ugh… You better come back. If you're planning to die, I won't forgive you, Sylvain!

When Dedue is low on health during the SB battle at Ailell, Dimitri begs him to fall back because he cannot afford to lose him. But when Felix is low on health and can no longer stand, Sylvain is the one who comes to his aid. Rodrigue made it clear that he expected his son to fight to the death. But because of Sylvain he retreats. His future with Sylvain was the reason he chose to keep on living.

Sylvain: Ah… Felix. I'm glad you're safe. Felix: You, always trying to shield me... Don't be reckless. Even though you're weak, you always, always...! Sylvain: It's fine as long as you're safe. As long as you're alive, I… Felix: You stupid bastard! Don't joke like that. If you ever dare to die, I won't forgive you…!

It's more obvious in Japanese, but what Felix said to Sylvain at the Valley of Torment was almost the exact same as their A+ Support. Sylvain probably knew he was going to die, just like Matthias did in GW. He was fighting to the death as he avenged Ingrid. Even though he wanted to die together with him, if it came down to it, Sylvain was always content to sacrifice his life to let Felix live. He died as a true knight so that Felix wouldn't have to. Felix had the type of bond with Sylvain that he was supposed to have with Dimitri.

Felix: …Well, I was prepared for it to come to this. With Father… and also with that boar, we'll eventually have to part ways.

Felix did not want to become a knight for many reasons. In Japanese, he used the phrase "袂を分かつ" (tasuki wo wakatsu). It literally means "to separate the sleeves" and is often used metaphorically. The imagery evokes the idea of two individuals going their separate ways, often signifying a farewell or divergence of paths. That is his entire motivation if he joins CF.

Felix: For the past five years, I've been fighting under the emperor. …I've slain quite a number of enemies. Now, I must look just like that boar from back then. …It's the face of a cruel beast that revels in blood and violence.

But if he takes that path, he becomes the very boar he hated.

Felix: …He's dead. I heard he was beheaded… But… I didn't see his head. If, by some chance, he's leading that army… Byleth: Are you truly ready to fight? Felix: …Don't underestimate me. Even if it's him, I'm prepared to kill.

In VW, Felix suspected that Dimitri was still alive all along. But he still chose to stay with the Alliance.

Felix: …I never truly understood his hatred and anguish towards the Empire. If it were me…could I have saved him? Could I have… stopped him?

Afterwards, he wondered if he could have saved him from dying like a wild boar. Even if he had stayed with the Kingdom, it wouldn't have made a difference. Only Byleth would have been able to stop him. Felix would have just died pointlessly at Gronder like everyone else. But there was no way for him to know that. In both routes, he suffers from regret and wishes he'd died alongside Dimitri. He is a lost soul, who lives only for the sword and fights with a will to die.

Felix & Sylvain (Non-AM) After the war, minor skirmishes continued throughout various regions in Fódlan. Felix, upon learning that there were battles still to be fought, chose to forsake his noble status and make a living as a swordsman. Over a decade later, he took on the role of a mercenary, and his employer turned out to be Sylvain, who had inherited the title of Margrave Gautier. The two of them were overjoyed to reunite, but their diverging paths meant that their fates would never intertwine further. After finishing his work, Felix left Sylvain's territory, embarking on another journey as a wanderer. It was a few years later when Sylvain received a sword that was unmistakably Felix's.

This is the ending you get if Felix uses his sword to cut a path to his ideal future. While he can eventually give up the sword and find some peace if he has a female partner, his paired ending with Sylvain is the single most tragic ending in the game. Despite having a chance reunion, Sylvain is unable to save him. While the reason for this is never stated, the Japanese ending offers a clue.

The phrase used for “diverging paths” in Japanes is "道を違えた" (michi o tagaeta). It also translates to "took the wrong path" or "strayed from the path." It implies making a mistake or deviating from the correct course of action, moral path, or intended direction. It emphasizes the idea of going astray or making an error in judgment.

Sylvain's arc was about realizing that his Crest did not decide his fate, he did. After Felix left him, he probably settled down with a random noblewoman, had children, and it was simply too late for him to start a new life with Felix. Because Felix went astray and chose an immoral path, it caused Sylvain to make a big mistake. Felix follows in Glenn's footsteps and dies alone, full of pain and regret. And I can't imagine that Sylvain's fate was any better when Felix's sword arrived on his doorstep. He probably became the next Wall of Ice. They can only be together in AM and their non-AM ending strongly emphasizes how that was the intended path for them.

Felix: Why did they die while I lived? …Even now, there's not a day I don't question. But I'm not as spoiled as you. I'll take my regrets to the grave. There are more important things to me now.

The localization did a faithful job with the Dimitri/Felix A-Support. It's just that, in Japanese, there was a line about how Felix would take any regrets to his grave. It was very similar to his A-Support with Rodrigue in Hopes. In AM, Rodrigue dies, and Felix never got to apologize for punching him. He even left a note in the confession box about that. But in Hopes, he could get closure with his father.

Felix and Dimitri's relationship was FAR from healthy. It probably would be much better for both of them to sever their rotten relationship once and for all and walk separate paths in life. And their A-Support was written with the idea that, if this was the final time Felix spoke to Dimitri one-on-one, that would be okay. He said what he needed to say and wouldn't have any regrets. Dimitri could sense his underlying compassion and was content to leave it at that.

Flayn: But isn't there a future beyond that where Felix can avoid taking lives? Felix: …It's fine to dream of such a future, but I don't belong there. After all, I've been swinging a sword ever since I was born. ...Swordsmen are troublesome creatures. Fighting for peace, yet losing our purpose when peace finally arrives. Flayn: …Haha, if that's the case, you need not worry. […] If you felt like you lost your purpose in life, surely you would find a new purpose. It's not like you to fear loss. Felix: …...… You really are something, aren't you? Huh… I've never even thought about it. Maybe there is such a way of living after all. ...I'm starting to get interested. Perhaps swinging a sword for the future you dream of wouldn't be such a bad idea.

One way Felix resembled his father was that he couldn't live without a great purpose in life, and if he lost that purpose, he'd need something to fill the void. He needed a future to look forward to during peacetime. He was intrigued by the idea that one day he could chop wood, fruits, and vegetables instead of people.

Felix: The millennium festival? Talking about festivities at a time like this, you're as carefree as ever, huh… Sylvain: No, no. While it's a celebration, it's also a political gathering where rulers from various countries gather. It wouldn't hurt to think about the future, right? You can't stay uninvolved either. Felix: Well, that may be true. For now, focus on the battle at hand, Sylvain. If you die here, there won't be any millennium festival or anything. Sylvain: Oops, a valid point! Well then, for now, I'll quietly prepare for the deployment. Felix: Do that. Don't neglect your preparations and end up losing your life in some trivial place.

He wielded a sword because he was afraid of loss. Getting stronger would not fulfill him the same way a relationship could. His non-AM endings really emphasize the fact that the sword was just filling the void of a partner.

Felix: I find it easier to wield a sword than to hold a woman's hand.

But personally, I think he was the only gay character in 3H (well, other than perhaps his father). He got along well with women, but I was struck by how unromantic his paired endings with them were. He is the only man to propose to Byleth at the training grounds instead of the Goddess Tower. He spends a lot of time apart from her in their paired ending and is happiest exchanging swords instead of words when they actually do see each other. It felt more like he was replacing the loss of his brother through her than really being in love.

In his ending with Flayn, he continues to wield a sword as Dimitri's right-hand and only gives it up in favor of a quiet life on his estate when Dimitri dies. When he marries Mercedes, Bernie, or Dorothea, he becomes the king's right-hand and travels across Fódlan with Dimitri. He spends a lot of time away from Bernie. Dorothea has to accompany him on the battlefield to get quality time.

His ending with Leonie is not romantic and they just become drinking buddies. In his ending with Ingrid, he gives up the sword when he's injured and does not regret it. The only two female paired endings that don't mention warfare, swords, or knighthood are Annette and Lysithea. But it felt like the joke was that he actually fell in love with he singing, not Annette herself. And with Lysithea, she dies young and leaves behind her cake recipe.

Felix: You're not cut out to be a knight. How about you start seriously looking for a marriage partner? Ingrid: …What's that supposed to mean? Felix: Just as I said. Ingrid: I understand that you dislike things like chivalry and knightly pride. Just because of that, you keep running away from your duty as the heir of the house… You have no right to speak so high and mighty.

In Japanese Felix did tell Ingrid to go find a husband, but he used the word "結婚相手" (kekkon aite) instead of "夫" (otto) which means husband. "Kekkon aite" refers to someone whom you are seriously considering as a potential marriage partner but may not be formally engaged to or married yet. He wasn't telling her to go find the next man to offer a huge dowry and immediately get engaged.

He was saying that she would be better off dating, finding a serious partner that she loves, and eventually getting married. He did not say this in a disparaging way. He didn't want her to end up like Glenn nor did he want her to blindly follow the orders of a king who he considered bloodthirsty. He genuinely thought that being a wife would be a safer and more fulfilling lifestyle than being a knight.

Dimitri & Felix Dimitri formally succeeded to the throne of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus after his coronation, dedicating his lifetime to the governance and reform of Fódlan. Behind many of his achievements stood Felix, the Duke of Fraldarius, who sometimes acted as the king's right-hand man and at other times served as his advisor. Bound by a lifelong steadfast friendship, it is said that Felix mourned more intensely at Dimitri's passing than even the queen herself. The tale of their lives, akin to the legendary Lion King Loog and his sworn friend Kyphon, will be passed down through the ages as one of the stories that adorn the history of Fódlan.

In any case, Felix was projecting his own feelings onto Ingrid. If you pair her with Dimitri, it says she supported him as a wife and queen, but still insisted on fighting on the front lines in battle like a knight. If you pair Felix with Dimitri, it says he mourned the king's death more than the queen. Ya know, the wife. Chivalry promotes homoromantic social bonding among men. Rodrigue had a wife and kids, but he devoted his life to a married (presumably heterosexual) man. He used his position as "sworn friend" of the king to fill the void of an actual gay relationship. He lost his reason for living when Lambert died. In this ending, Felix ends up following in his father's footsteps. I don't think that's a satisfying ending for him.

Dimitri/Felix: "彼らは生涯固い友情で結ばれ" means "They were bound by a lifelong strong friendship." This phrase emphasizes the steadfast and enduring nature of their friendship. The word "固い" means "firm" or "strong," implying a friendship that is resilient and unwavering. Sylvain/Felix: "生涯無二の友であり続けた" means "They remained lifelong inseparable friends." This phrase emphasizes the unique and unparalleled nature of their friendship. The term "無二" means "unparalleled" or "incomparable," suggesting that their bond was extraordinary and unmatched.

I would also like to compare the descriptions of friendship in the Dimitri/Felix ending to the Sylvain/Felix ending. Both phrases convey a deep sense of friendship, but they emphasize slightly different aspects. Dimitri/Felix emphasizes the enduring strength and solidity of their bond. In terms of depth, Sylvain/Felix carries a stronger sense of exclusivity and uniqueness in their friendship.

The term "無二" was also used in Ingrid's AM paired endings with Ashe and Dedue. Her arc was about belonging to herself, not a man. She wanted to go down in history as a knight, not as a wife. For that reason, her AM paired endings with Ashe and Dedue don't specify her marital status. But the writers still wanted to suggest that she and her male partner were possibly lovers. Since it can also mean “inseparable” in certain contexts, "無二" was chosen for their bond.

Felix & Sylvain (AM) Felix, who succeeded his deceased father Rodrigue as Duke Fraldarius, and Sylvain, who inherited the title of Margrave Gautier after his father's passing, both devoted their efforts to the restoration and prosperity of the Kingdom. Even amidst their busy days, their friendship never wavered. Felix would occasionally show up at the Gautier family's residence and insult Sylvain, and Sylvain, in turn, would visit the Fraldarius house frequently, solely to tease Felix. Throughout their lives, they remained inseparable friends, and there is even an anecdote that they coincidentally passed away on the same day.

In this ending, both men inherit their fathers' titles, but neither of them is forced to fulfill their unwanted patriarchal duty. Their bond is characterized by mutual devotion, not chivalry or bloodline. Their relationship effectively goes back to how it was when they were kids. He apparently made peace with Sreng as Sylvain is free to go where he wants and spends his life with someone he loves, not just someone he can have Crest babies with. While he becomes a famous cheater in his solo ending, and a renowned lord in his others, here historians remember him most for his closeness with Felix.

Like Rodrigue, Felix wished to live and die alongside another man. When paired with most of his wives, he becomes the king's right-hand, a role that would require him to wield a sword and travel. But not in this ending. He stays in Fraldarius territory so he can be available for frequent surprise visits. Sylvain was his true purpose in life, and neither can live without the other. And to me, that is the ideal ending to both of their character arcs. The Shield of Faerghus died like a true knight. "The Shield's Successor" died like a true wife.

[frickingnerd]

clinging to a promise

pairing: dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x gn!reader

summary: when the war broke out, you got kidnapped and locked away in fhirdiad. for years you clung to the hope that dimitri would one day save you. and that day finally came…

tags: kidnapped!reader (by cornelia), brief mention of torture/experiments on reader, angst to wholesome fluff, all blue lions are here, dimitri & reader are childhood friends, set during azure moon

“i promise, i'll keep you safe. always.”

for years, those were the words you clung to. that promise between two childhood friends, that you hoped hasn't been forgotten. the promise dimitri made to you all those years ago. the only hope you had, while captured and experimented on. the only thing to keep you going, even in your darkest hour.

it's been years now that you had spent in the captivity of cornelia, locked away in a prison in fhirdiad. rumors of dimitri's death had spread even within the prison, yet you still held onto the hope that dimitri had managed to escape his execution. and that one day, the two of you would reunite again.

and that day was rapidly approaching.

“what's going on–!?”

“they infiltrated the capitol–!”

“surrender! there's no use fighting them”

most of your mornings were quiet and lonesome, but when you woke up with people screaming and panicking outside, you knew something was different. whether fhirdiad was being invaded by outsiders or your savior didn't quite matter to you at that moment. things couldn't really get worse for you either way.

“everyone, step away from the bars–!”

a familiar voice suddenly echoed through the halls of the underground prison. a voice of your former classmate and vassal to dimitri. and if he was here, then surely…

“are you in here? please, answer me–!”

your heart skipped a beat when you heard dimitri's voice. footsteps soon echoed through the halls of the prison, as people started running around, looking for a certain cell.

“i found them–!”

it was felix who got to your cell first, rattling on the bars that kept you separated from everyone else. soon, the rest of the blue lions followed, with dimitri pushing his way to the front, busting open the cell door, as if it was nothing.

“dimi–” before you could finish his name, dimitri had swept you off your feet and pulled you into a tight hug that made the other blue lions panic.

“not so rough–!”

“you'll squeeze them to death, boar–!”

“careful, your highness…”

dimitri's grip on you loosened a little, enough to allow you to stand on your own two feet again. but aside from that, he paid no mind to the others and still held onto you, worrying that if he let go of you, you'd slip away from him once more.

“after all these years… i finally found you” dimitri's face was nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his words coming out as mumbles that only you could hear. “i promised i'd keep you safe, always. but i couldn't do anything, all those years. can you… ever forgive me…?”

you held on tight to dimitri for another moment, not wanting this warm embrace to be cut short. when you finally did slip away, your hands had cupped his cheeks gently and you made the taller man look down at you, gently caressing his cheek.

“there's nothing to forgive you for, dimitri. you saved me, just like i knew you would. all those years, i've waited for you, knowing that, one day, you'd find me. and now that you're here, i harbor no ill feelings towards you. all i feel is delight, that we are once again reunited…”

[koroart]

How do you think Dimitri's personality would differ, lacking the darker undertones if the Tragedy never happened and Lamby + Glenn are alive and well? (Also I personally hc that Lamby was ~41 in 1176 but just has really good genes about it, thoughts?)

In that scenario, Dimitri would definitely be a little more different, but I believe he would still be the kind and earnest lad we meet in the beginning of FE3H!

In my Lambert Lives AU, the Tragedy still happens, so now, not only does Dimitri still have his familiar trauma, he and his dad can now share it✨️

In my AU Glenn doesn't survive because I like to keep that underlying angst flavor in regards to Lambert and Rodrigue’s relationship -- because I can't remember where I read it but Lambert has the same feelings about death like Felix and Dimitri do ( I need to find where ) and he certainly wouldn't glorify Glenn's death like the way Rodrigue did -- and I definitely feel that would be a point of tension between the two of them ( but it's partially one sided, because it's mostly because of Lambert's guilt of being unable to save Glenn )

This also gives me a way to still kind of explore Dimitri's coping with the trauma of the Tragedy, while he certainly still has the support of his father-- the two of them are trauma bonded and became a bit dependent on one another and Lambert definitely became overprotective for a time and sheltered Dimitri no doubt ( they work through it! ) but I feel Dimitri would still have those dark, underlying thoughts of avenging the dead, thoughts he couldnt find himself able to share with Lambert, thinking he is duty bound to and it would definitely become a point of conflict between him and his father -- with Lambert not wanting Dimitri to fall down a dark path and Dimitri being unable to let go of his obligations to the dead. And with the war on them and Dimitri also still being a young adult and coming into himself -- his relationship with his father would become strained for a time because that's just what happens when you grow up in such an environment, no matter how loved one is. ( they work through it together because they know that at the end of the day, they're all they have, and their love for one another means more than whatever conflict is happening between them )

As for Lambert’s age in 1176, I kinda did some math and put him AT LEAST in his mid 30s early 40s when he passed! ( so you're close ! ) and I agree, he probably has great genes 👏✨️

[slotumn]

Some notes on how I personally like to write the lords + Rhea+ Shezleth wrt sacrifices and deaths and moral dilemmas they face when they make decisions

Basically,

Edelgard: People will die because of my decisions, but it must be done in order to bring change and ensure more don’t die in the future under an unjust system

Rhea: People will die because of my decisions, but it must be done in order to maintain stability and ensure more don’t die in the future under chaos and turmoil

Dimitri: People have died because of me and my decisions, I know it’s unforgivable no matter what and I will atone for it by avenging them (feral mode)/saving as much as or more than I have killed (post-feral clarity)

Claude: People have died because of me and my decisions, but that was the best I could do in my situation, and as long as I/we stay alive thanks to that I/we still have a chance to turn things around for the better

Byleth: People dying is people dying and nobody knows if any of your decisions will be “justified” until it plays out. I’ll help you get the results that will hopefully “justify” your decisions because I love and support you, but honestly, all that shit you're saying is just cope

Shez: Cool cool, where’s my fucking money

As you can tell the main foils/contrasts I like are Rhea <–> Edelgard, Dimitri <–> Claude, and Shez+Byleth. More rambling about it under the cut

For Rhea and Edelgard, I like to focus on them being similar people at different points of life/the project they’ve dedicated their lives to. I’m sure people have already made the analysis about parallels between them, from losing their families/conquering the continent/etc etc but basically, they have very similar philosophies/attitudes/outlooks, and the difference is whether the current system and dominant ideology is what they like or not.

I think that a young Seiros, fleeing a genocide and recruiting allies in the south, would have had faced similar objections Edelgard did; Nemesis may not be the most benevolent ruler, yes, and we don’t literally believe everything his regime preaches, but at least things are manageable and stable if we play along, especially down here in the south. Do we really need to risk everything we have to go up and fight him? Your ideas hold appeal, but some of us don’t find it appealing enough to die for it.

And similarly, I think Edelgard, if she grew old enough to see her system really take root in society, would say a lot of the same things that Rhea would've liked to say, when younger generations complain; look, what we have isn’t perfect, but you really don’t want to see what it was like before, and the fact you can have these complaints at all are a testament to the system I’ve made working. And if you try to burn all this down out of youthful passion, it’s more likely that we will regress instead of progress.

For Dimitri and Claude, it’s about how they deal with guilt; on a personal level, specifically. Politically I think they’d take or dodge responsibility as is necessary lol

Dimitri is straightforward, almost too straightforward. Not great at coming up with excuses, or rather, excusing himself. His way of facing the guilt is very one on one; taking blood for blood, while he's feral. Saving life for life taken, post-feral clarity. And even then, deep down he feels like ("knows") it's will never be enough. And he takes on all that guilt head on even in places where it's not his fault, a.k.a. survivor's guilt.

Claude, meanwhile, dude is a mental gymnastic gold medalist (affectionate). It's not that he doesn't feel guilt, but I think he's very good at seemingly minimizing it, excusing it, and convincing himself that he's better off focusing on other things. As for survivor's guilt, I'm not saying Claude wouldn't ever feel it, but he'd focus on the fact he survived, rather than the guilt.

Finally, Byleth and Shez. Honestly I think they have pretty similar outlooks, it's just a matter of how they explain it lol. The role I like to give these two is reality checkers; because the lords and Rhea can have their debates about Ideology™ and The System™ and Morality™ and Responsibility™ of it all they'd like, but in the end, it's people like Shez and Byleth doing the dirty work and dying on the field for the decisions.

And when people die, the physical, material reality is that they're fucking dead. Attach causes and justifications and obligations and excuses to their corpses as you want, but at the end of the day, it is a corpse and the person is dead. That's the reality they've always lived in, and not just as a one-off incident, either; the thing they do for survival is fighting and killing. They have a "It Is What It Is" type of attitude as a baseline, because, well... it is. Doesn't mean they don't feel things about it. Doesn't mean they don't want to save people where they can. Nonetheless— they know all too well that what happens is what happens.

For this reason, I like to think that grand moralistic judgements are not their thing, no matter the route; they don't even think the lord they sided with is fundamentally more correct/better. Like, come on, when they were asked to choose a house upon arriving at Garreg Mach, they probably weren't weighing their options based on who'd be the most "objectively" "morally" correct if a war broke out between the three (+the Church).

That being said, I think they definitely have a sense of what's good. But it's not the philosophical/abstract type of good you might hear the other four get into debates about. Shez and Byleth's idea of good is, in many ways, very small and inconsequential— but grander concepts of morality can't exist without it. And I like to think that the reason why Shez and Byleth become so important to the side they picked isn't just because of their powers, but also because the constantly they remind others of those small good things.

"Good" to Shez and Byleth is having enough to eat; having warm clothes and bed to sleep in and a roof over their heads; spending time with the people they care about and seeing them safe. It's quite animalistic, in a way; interesting, considering that Agarthans belittle their enemies by calling them beasts.

But I don't think those two would be particularly affected by being called animals for that reason. "These beasts are happy— what about you?"

[skiesletter]

dimitri alexandre blaiddyd - a salve for the broken

prompt ; five years after the fall of garreg mach, dimitri is in the ruins of the once-monastery. amidst the rubble, he seeks blood and the destruction of his enemies, only a shell of his former self — a shell built on blood and vengeance. you are the only one left who can save him.

word count ; 1k

the monastery is no longer what it used to be. once, the symbol of hope and peace, now, the ruins of a large building no more. dimitri, fatigued by his own suffering yet still driven by an unfounded desire for blood, sits against the wall of a monastery tower. around him are tens, if not hundreds, of dead bodies stained with fresh blood. he huffs for air, his voice a mixture of seething rage and burning pain. his spear, the only symbol left of his father, his people, is covered in so much blood he can no longer call himself a savior ( not that he has ever thought of himself as such ), and he, baggy-eyed and panting, is nothing like the angel-haired boy from five years ago.

the sound of footsteps snaps him out of his thoughts, his fist tightens around his spear, ready to take another life. his life is one that cycles, an endless repeat that he desperately searches an exit for. but that exit on comes at the end of a long, tiring road — a road of vengeance, a road full of blood, and a road of self-destruction. 

his singular eye looks on to a face so familiar he can feel his heart skid to a stop, before it begins to pound faster than ever. his scars feel like they are burning all of a sudden, like the pain that comes at the end of adrenaline, but make it hundredfold worse. it would be a lie to say he seldom feels this way — every ghost makes his heart lurk, every ghost makes him wish to take so many lives he no longer cares about humanity.

he does not wish to breathe, but his breaths come out so shaky and unstably anyhow. another ghost, another ghost who has come to haunt his past and taunt him for all the sins he has committed. 

he should be used to it by now — they come and go like this, hundreds of times everyday. he kills every single one of them, without so much hesitation he wonders if there is still any love left in his strangling heart. and yet, every time he sees another ghost, he cannot feel dread brush upon his muddied, blonde locks.

he leaps forward, thrusting his spear just beside your neck. it is a warning, not to kill, but to hear the story of another one he has failed.

“ again. again, you have come to haunt me. i have killed you too many times, and yet you always return, ” his deep voice growls — a voice you once found so beautiful and melodic, like the warming hum of a cello, but is now so guttural, so sorrowed, and so devastatingly yet beautifully broken. it is the rage of that who suffers, the rage of that who has hurt so much and continues to inflict hurt upon self.

you do not flinch at the cold metal pressed against your neck — you, perhaps opposite of him, have been steeled from war, immune from the fear that plagues his haunted mind. ( and he does not expect you to flinch, you have never once flinched as he killed you. instead, you have always smiled. and perhaps that is what makes him hurt even more, watching you so accepting of your own death, so accepting of the horrors he continues to commit. )

instead, you push away the blade and take slow, deliberate steps towards his ragged form, your gloved hands staining with the blood that engulfs the spear. he flinches at that — never once have you done anything but die at his hands. never once have you neared him. in the back of his mind he screams at himself to back away from you — he, so dirty and sinful, should not be so close to you. but he cannot move, frozen in shock and wariness. you approach him with such a soft gaze, but he can see the caution in your pursed lips, and the weariness that rests perpetually under your darkened eyes.

his singular eye widens with a jolt, extended arm drops to his side. he has cried too many tears to feel it prick against the edges of his dark-bagged eyes, and yet something within his heart feels shaken. he has already learned how to deal with ghosts, with the dead — he cannot chase them away, but he can kill them endlessly. and he has learned how to greet his foes, for blood now feels so natural against his scarred, battle-tanned skin. but never has he learned to greet his friends whom still cling on to their lives. he swallows, tasting rust at the back of his throat. again, is the ever-reminder of all that he has lost — not only the dead, but the alive.

you recognize the realization that sinks into his soul almost immediately. of course you do — you have known him since forever, and loved him for even longer. the wind overhead stops, its bellowing sound once rapping against the stone roof silences, creating a hush akin to the endless whispers of the dead. you wonder what it must be like to hear the voices of the dead, to be haunted by nightmares even in wake, and to have to kill them one by one in order to stay sane enough to walk. you can understand the pain of war and the horror of morphed faces and the lost ability to tell friend from foe. but never, will you be able to understand the extent of his suffering.

it is quiet now, so quiet you can hear his ragged breath and see the trembling of his jaw. he can see you better now, his blank eyes settling on the blood that peeks out of your ripped clothing and the bruises sprouting across your skin. he wonders what he has even fought for, if he cannot protect what he loves most.

( and he wonders, too, if you are here to save him from his suffering or throw him back into the endless loop, this time adding an even greater pain that he would willingly embrace. )

[yellowocaballero]

Ashen Wolf Byleth & Teen Dad Yuri

The blade fell, and the beautiful ghost stepped away. “We don’t like surface people here. If you two are plotting anything, I’ll kill you.”

She said it so simply and easily, as if Dimitri’s death would be the work of nature or the Goddess and not her own two hands. Dimitri turned around, heart jumping into the throat, and met the eyes of his beautiful ghost for the first time.

The girl was solid, real, and around his age. She was wearing a strange, bastardized version of the Academy uniform, silver and embroidered with a strange symbol over the heart. Her hair gleamed navy blue and her lace stockings barely hid her defined thigh muscles. Her grip on her sword was excellent and her stance spoke of barely restrained power. The woman could kill him in a flash, and the stroke that cut his throat would shine like moonlight.

Like Dimitri loved a long fall and short impact, like he loved the light at the end of the tunnel, like he loved betting all in on the longest chances, Dimitri fell in love instantly.

I need to update Weekenders but there's about twenty reasons why I haven't done it yet. But while I've been posting it I've been writing a shitton of other stuff, only some of which is decent, so I thought I'd post the beginnings of this story while I finish up the New Game+ Claude POV fic. This is most of what exists so far, and I probably won't finish it. Writing Dimitri's POV actively made me feel more insane as a person.

TW for references and flashbacks to Yuri's canon past. Around 15k of an absolutely demented Dimitri, a deeply smarmy Claude, a disturbingly feral Byleth, and a Yuri who is just doing his best under the cut.

i.

Dimitri was rapidly growing obsessed with the beautiful ghost. 

He tried to confess to his colleagues in the Blue Lions, but they just gave him sympathetic eyes and confiscated his training sword. A typical lack of faith in their leader, but Dimitri had to accept that it was well deserved. He was perfectly aware that Felix, Sylvain, Dedue, and Ingrid didn’t believe in ghosts, much less beautiful ones. Mercedes, Ashe, and Annette believed whole-heartedly in ghosts, but they thought he was being weird about it. So Dimitri was silenced, ostensibly for his own good. It was for his own good - future kings couldn’t exactly run around talking about beautiful ghosts - but it still felt like an odd form of betrayal. 

And he still couldn’t get her out of his mind. If only he had proof, Sylvain would make fun of him just a little bit less. All he had to do was be patient and wait for his time to come. Sylvain would see. They’d all see. 

The time came sooner than expected, with unexpected company. Dimitri and Claude were walking back from an important (Edelgard’s words) and mind-numbingly boring (Claude’s words) administrative meeting when he saw her again. They were walking a side path along the very edge of the monastery, using it as a shortcut between the main building and their own dormitory, and in the thick night their solitude was complete. Complete save for a shadow in the distance, darting from the forest and across the path like a minnow in a stream. 

Dimitri dropped his books in shock. Claude stopped short, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“What’s -”

“It’s her!” Dimitri cried. “That’s her! Hey - miss, please wait!”

The books and company were no longer important. Dimitri set off after her at a run, only barely aware that Claude was hot on his tail. As always, the ghost disappeared almost instantly - she crossed the path and dove into the tall shrubbery against the stone walls of the monastery, where she disappeared. Dimitri had seen her appear from the ground and disappear into walls before, only barely visible from the corner of his eyes, and every time she slipped like water from his fingers.

This time was no different. Dimitri skidded to a halt at her disappearing point, pushing aside thick branches in a desperate search for terrestrial beauty. There was nobody and nothing - the girl had walked straight into the monastery walls. Foiled again.

“Dammit!” Dimitri yelled. Claude’s eyebrows jumped up. “I was so close that time!” 

“You know curse words? I owe Hilda a hundred gold.” Claude poked his head over Dimitri’s shoulder, watching his desperate search without helping whatsoever. “What was all of that about? Did you see someone?”

“Didn’t you?” But Dimitri already knew the answer, even as he said it - nobody ever saw her but him. “I’ve been seeing this girl since I arrived at Garreg Mach. She appears from thin air and disappears into nothing. I suspect she may be a ghost. I’ve searched high and low for her, but I haven’t been able to find her. And she slips through my fingers again!”

Claude hummed, scratching his chin. “Now that you mention it, maybe I did see a figure…”

Dimitri rocketed upwards, snapping several branches. He whirled on Claude, who took a large step back. “You did? Was she short, wearing silver clothing, unmistakably beautiful?”

Claude held up both hands in a plea for innocence. “...it looked kind of humanoid?” Figures. Dimitri turned back around, scanning the area again. If he could just follow her trail - maybe there would be a scent of death? Of ozone? Of the unknown? “Hey, if it matters that much to you then I’ll help you look. Can’t afford to rule anything out - even ghosts.” 

“You’re a true friend, Your Grace,” Dimitri said seriously. Claude nodded back, equally seriously. “And even if she isn’t a ghost, an unknown person at Garreg Mach is highly suspect. She doesn’t seem to wear a habit, armor, or a uniform. It’s our responsibility as leaders to investigate mysteries like this.” 

“Uh huh.” Claude slipped into the thicket with him, easily fitting into the barren spots where Dimitri already accidentally snapped off all the branches. Dimitri was already seriously knocking on the castle walls, searching for secret passages or weaknesses. “But not to tell a staff member?”

“I decided a while ago that I could handle this on my own,” Dimitri said stiffly. Wasn’t like anybody was willing to help him, anyway. “Some endeavors are personal.”

“I know that feeling.” Claude hummed, and Dimitri heard the distinct screech of metal scraping on metal. “So are you this invested because of the ghost thing or the beautiful thing?”

“With the potential non-invited guest at Garreg Mach thing, Your Grace.” 

A terrible grinding sound split the night, and Dimitri winced. He was a bit sensitive to unexpected loud noises. Felix knew, and liked to sneak up on him and yell in his ear. “I’m a future duke and you’re a future king, Your Highness, I think you’re meant to speak less formally to me.” 

“We’re both future leaders of our respective countries,” Dimitri said seriously. “Isn’t that more important than a discrepancy in titles? I’d like to show respect to you as it befits your station, not your title.” 

More awful screeching filled the air, accompanied by a final grinding scream and a muffled thump. “Is that why you’re the only person who calls Petra ‘Your Highness’? I think that’s why you’re the only guy in this school she approves of.” 

“Really?” Dimitri asked, pleased. Politeness always paid off! “I simply think it’s disrespectful to treat her as anything less than royalty simply because she is here as a political hostage - an outdated practice that I believe - I’m sorry, what’s that sound?”

“Oh, just opening a secret passage.” 

“I see. I just think it’s an outdated practice that ought to be illegalized, and just between you and me I actually highly disapprove of - I’m sorry, a what?”

Dimitri turned around from his fruitless inspection of the wall for the first time and saw Claude squatting nearby. He had cut away the brambles surrounding the area with the tip of an arrow he pulled from somewhere, and a large manhole was resting on the grass next to him. He was currently sticking his head down a dark hole of indeterminable depth. Dimitri hadn’t even noticed a manhole! 

Well. If the beautiful woman was a beautiful ghost, then she had undoubtedly gone through the wall. But if the beautiful woman was an everyday extremely attractive girl, then the manhole might be how she had escaped so quickly. 

Finally, a lead! A path towards her! Dimitri did not know why he was a little disappointed. Was he secretly hoping she’d be a ghost? That would be a little impractical. Maybe he was just upset Claude had found it?

Claude popped his head back up, upside-down braid swinging back against his cheek. “Now isn’t this interesting?” For the first time, Claude seemed invested. “The sewer system doesn’t run underneath this path. So what’s an access point to the sewers doing right here?”

“...why do you know the sewer layout of Garreg Mach?”

“I’m a fan of a good mystery,” Claude said, completely ignoring the question. Perhaps. “How do you feel about a little exploration on this fine moonlit night?” 

Oh no. Dimtiri abruptly felt a little anxious. “Your Grace, I don’t believe students are allowed in the Garreg Mach sewer systems.”

“What if it’s not the Garreg Mach sewer system?”

“That may be less allowed.” A little awkwardly, Dimitri added, “And I really wouldn’t want to accidentally break a rule and get in trouble.”

Claude gave him a look of blatant disgust. Dimitri hung his head in shame.

Finally, Claude took pity on him. He sighed and clapped Dimitri’s shoulder - once in camaraderie, twice in sympathy. “Your Highness. Are you really going to let some little rules get in the way of you and your soulmate?”

Dimitri perked up. Putting it like that…and he really didn’t want to look uncool in front of Claude, who was probably the coolest person at the school… “I suppose Lady Rhea would understand if it’s for the sake of love…”

“Attaboy.” Claude shoved roughly at Dimitri’s shoulder, pushing him into the hole. “Now let’s dive into the sewers. Lords first!”

Thankfully, Dimitri wasn’t obligated to fall down a hole face first. There was a wooden ladder descending downwards, warped and fragile from the damp air, and although Dimitri descended into the dark with no hesitation he had to force himself to move slowly and grip the fragile rungs with utmost care. 

The darkness was absolute, and Dimitri and Claude navigated by feel. They climbed for what felt like ages, and Dimitri’s absolute concentration made the period of time span even longer. Claude prattled on above his head with some random thoughts and observations, but Dimitri was focusing too hard on the ladder to register what he was saying. 

A boot knocked him on the head. Dimitri’s hands spasmed, crushing the rung into splinters, and his grip was completely lost. Dimitri bent backwards a terrifying foot before he righted himself and regained his balance, grabbing the side of the ladder and swinging himself heavily downwards. Of course, that broke the side of the ladder, and suddenly Claude was yelling a great deal of expletives as one side of his ladder began to slide downwards. 

“Let’s readjust our approach,” Dimitri said mildly. He changed his grip to grab the two sides of the ladder, his metal gauntlets digging into the wood. “Get ready to slide, Your Grace.” 

“Are you nuts -”

Dimitri kicked off, taking his feet off the rungs and loosening his grip on the sides. His slide downwards was alarmingly fast, and he could feel the musty air rise up to meet him. Claude was still yelling, his voice echoing up the empty tunnel, and a familiar wave of adrenaline rose to wash Dimitri’s mind clean.

He couldn’t help but grin. The wind tousling his hair, the swooping sensation in his stomach, the possibility of death and the high probability of injury - a recipe for excitement. Dimitri’s favorite sort of excitement - the sort that cleared out all of the nasty little thoughts that clouded his mind day to day, that made him forget all of his problems and memories and wounds and that focused him onto the present moment. It was a thrill that conquered all ills, and it was more or less the only time that Dimitri was ever happy. 

His professor didn’t like that about him. Before Garreg Mach, Felix was the only person who was aware of Dimitri’s little addiction, but the Blue Lions professor had sniffed Dimitri out fast and never stopped giving him a hard time about it. Dimitri honestly didn’t think it was the professor’s business, but he knew they did not agree regarding that fact. It didn’t matter - Dimitri wasn’t about to change.

A light sprung from the darkness, and Dimitri immediately kicked his heels against the ladder and slowed his descent. The light brightened as Dimitri fell, and he was able to make out a hard-packed dirt floor just in time to bend his knees and soften his landing. The impact still rattled his legs down to the bone, but he hadn’t sprained anything.

Dimitri immediately jumped backwards, watching Claude come to the same conclusion and slow his descent. Unlike Dimitri, he didn’t stick the landing - he fell in an ungainly heap on the floor, gasping for breath and groaning. His hair was wildly mussed, and he looked a little green. His cape had ripped off his shoulders, and was currently hanging like a defeated flag several feet above their heads.

“What is wrong with you.”

Goddess, they’d be here all day. “You’re the one who kicked my head.” Dimitri wiped the splinters off his gauntleted hand, extending it down to Claude. Claude squinted at him in increasingly ill-hidden hatred. “Come on, have a little adventurous spirit. I thought you were here to explore the unknown?”

Claude pushed himself upwards, and Dimitri silently curled his hand and returned it to his side. Figured that Claude wouldn’t want to touch him. An expected reaction, honestly. “Sure I am. Now our way out of here is unknown too. Guess we have no choice but to press onwards.” 

“I’ll lead the way,” Dimitri said - perhaps betraying the fact that he had no intention of going backwards. “I believe we’re already out of the woods. Look yonder - see the exit?”

There was, indeed, an exit. They had landed in a narrow rectangular room, and there was clearly a door at the far corner where the right wall intersected the back wall. Light shone from within, and Dimitri eagerly led them forwards towards the light. 

He could even hear sounds, signs of life - the distant coursing of a river, and a familiar quiet symphony of sounds. They were the sounds of life - a soundscape of an ordinary day at the marketplace at the base of Garreg Mach, marked by shuffling feet and quiet voices. 

“Is that people?” Dimitri whispered, excited. “What are people doing this far underground?”

“Is that people?” Claude whispered, incredulous. “Does Rhea know about this?”

“Perhaps they’re ghosts!”

But Claude just shook his head, and for the first time he seemed a little grim. He sped up, walking briskly until he overtook Dimitri. Dimitri fell back, letting him take the lead, and listened curiously as Claude muttered under his breath. Dimitri couldn’t make out the words at all - too quiet, perhaps.

“Ghosts!” Claude hissed. “Perhaps they’re ghosts, that’s fun, not dangerous -”

“Maybe they’re an army of ghosts,” Dimitri volunteered. Claude hissed something that sounded suspiciously similar to the Almyran term for the Fodlan ethnic group. He probably mishead. “Honestly, Claude, what happened to your thirst for adventure -”

“I thought I would get to see Dimitri Blaiddyd stomp through some sewers for an hour! I didn’t expect to stumble into real life people!” Claude stopped at the entryway, peering forward into the cavernous expanse beyond them. Dimitri stopped too. Quite involuntarily. “Holy - that’s a settlement! What is a settlement doing underneath - that’s a village! There’s no way Rhea doesn’t know about that. What else is that woman hiding?”

Dimitri coughed, frozen perfectly still. Cold steel kissed his neck. “Ah. Er. Some help?” 

Claude ignored him, steadily working himself up. Dimitri had never seen Claude actually unbalanced before. It was unsettling. “Just when I thought I had five percent of that woman figured out, she pulls the rug on me again. I’ll never get anything good out of her this way. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I might have to fall back on the B&E plan -”

“Some help, Claude!”

Instantly, Claude said, “What B&E plan?”

“Don’t move,” the beautiful ghost said. 

Claude turned around. 

Dimitri had to assume it was the beautiful ghost. The sword was raised against his neck upwards, showing that the wielder had to significantly lift her arm to hold it. The voice was unmistakably a woman’s, light and delicate and young. It wasn’t ethereal - rather, it was solid, as solid as the steel against his skin - but there was still something otherworldly about it. 

Claude stared at Dimitri, wide-eyed. His eyes traveled downwards - yes, the ghost had to be short - and he froze just as solid as Dimitri for a flat second before he relaxed. Over Claude’s shoulder, Dimitri could see the settlement stretching out before him - at the lean-tos and tents and shacks, at the people in rags milling about who were already beginning to stop and stare. The underground people were dirty, and the underground village was filthier. Dimitri immediately saw some elderly hugging the walls, and more foreigners.

Undoubtedly, Claude had seen what Dimitri saw. Claude was currently ahead of him - he was staring at the beautiful ghost with mouth agape, eyes wide. A hot flash of jealousy burst in Dimitri’s chest. Claude got to see the ghost’s face before he did! How incredibly unfair! 

“Hello, there. Sorry for…uh, dropping in.” Claude slowly raised his hands, showing himself unarmed. Dimitri wondered where he had stashed his extra arrows. “We…come in peace?”

The sword at his neck flashed. It was well-kept, but clearly old and cheap. “Who are you with.” 

“We’re not with anybody!” Claude said hurriedly. Bizarrely, he had immediately adopted an accent - a thick, regional Almyran accent, coarse and rough. “Please, ma’am, stay your sword. Don’t you have any idea who you’re holding hostage? He’s a very important person. If he goes missing your entire house will be endangered. It’s safest for everybody if you just let him go.”

The blade stilled. “...is he rich?”

“Oh, very! I know people who would pay thousands for his safe return!” 

“What did I expect,” Dimitri muttered. 

“And who are you?” the beautiful ghost asked. “Are you rich too?”

“I am but this man’s humble aide!” Claude said instantly. He bowed flamboyantly, with a distinctive Almyran flair. “A loyal and devoted servant am I, to His Royal Highness! My ten brothers and sisters wouldn’t have two coppers to scavenge together to pay a ransom, honest! Tell you what, tell you what - let me help!” Claude straightened, pulling out his most roguish and charismatic smile. “Let’s be friends, Fodlan beauty. Give me your demands, and I’ll deliver them straight upwards all the way to the top. I’ll be back with thousands! You can give the pale boy back later. If you want. How about it?”

The sword wavered. The ghost spoke again, her voice laced with doubt. “You’re both wearing the Academy uniform. Brother did say that the prince was attending school this year.”

“Beautiful and good intel sources! Surely you’ve heard of me, the Almyran vassal that follows around the prince and attends school with him?”

Dubiously, the ghost said, “Brother says that the vassal’s Duscuran…”

“I am disappointed that your brother cannot tell the difference between the Duscur and Almyran people!”

“It’s not like that…”

Claude promptly said something in - Almyran? When did Claude learn Almyran? The ghost said something back in Almyran, undoubtedly dubious. Claude pointed at Dimitri’s shoulder, showcasing Dimitri’s fine cape, and then at his own - and the distinct lack of yellow cape, which was probably still pinned to the ladder. The beautiful ghost murmured in assent - obviously Claude was a poor vassal, not a rich king, see his complete lack of cape. 

The beautiful ghost said something, and Claude’s eyes sharpened. He grinned and bowed even lower - a vassal to a princess. 

In the Fodlan language, Claude said, “Then His Highness and his loyal vassal would be honored to hold an audience with the lady’s esteemed brother.” 

“You talk stupid.” 

“You would really get along with my best friend, my lady.” 

“I’m not your anything.” The blade fell, and the beautiful ghost stepped away. “We don’t like surface people here. If you two are plotting anything, I’ll kill you.”

She said it so simply and easily, as if Dimitri’s death would be the work of nature or the Goddess and not her own two hands. Dimitri turned around, heart jumping into the throat, and met the eyes of his beautiful ghost for the first time.

The girl was solid, real, and around his age. She was wearing a strange, bastardized version of the Academy uniform, silver and embroidered with a strange symbol over the heart. Her hair gleamed navy blue and her lace stockings barely hid her defined thigh muscles. Her grip on her sword was excellent and her stance spoke of barely restrained power. The woman could kill him in a flash, and the stroke that cut his throat would shine like moonlight.

Like Dimitri loved a long fall and short impact, like he loved the light at the end of the tunnel, like he loved betting all in on the longest chances, Dimitri fell in love instantly. 

“Night night,” the love of Dimitri’s life said, before hitting him on the back of his head with the pommel of her sword, drawing black curtains over Dimitri’s eyes. 

__________

Dimitri sat in an office. A rather inauspicious turn in this kidnapping saga. 

He was sitting down because his head still hurt. He wished he was standing and showing his future brother-in-law the respect he deserved, but his future brother-in-law insisted that he tend to his probable concussion and sit. Dimitri wanted to protest - the man had already personally healed him, and his head didn’t hurt any more than usual - but the man seemed stressed enough, so Dimitri sat obediently in front of his desk. In an office. In an underground slum funded by the church. Which existed. Was that what taxpayer money was going towards?

Yuri explained the entire situation to him and Claude as he healed the bump and gash on Dimitri’s skull. For a given value of ‘entire’ - so far, Dimitri mostly just understood that the church organized a homeless encampment underground that accepted any members unconditionally and functioned roughly like its own little nation. The main encampment of Abyss was Garreg Mach itself - a basement floor of the monastery that had sunken into the ground after some unfortunate geographical events around seven hundred years ago. Dimitri wanted to ask if it was a possible problem that Garreg Mach was located in a sinkhole, but Yuri didn’t leave much time for questions.

The name of the slum was Abyss, and its inhabitants had little contact with the outside world. There were children in Abyss who had never stood in the sun, and infirm who hadn’t felt the sun’s warmth since they were well. Apparently the few inhabitants who regularly left Abyss used one of a series of secret passages in Garreg Mach, with entrances and exits that spanned the width of the monastery. These secret passages were very well-hidden, and an Abyssan well-versed in their usage could disappear and reappear throughout the monastery like…a ghost. 

They didn’t have visitors very often. Not many people knew about Abyss, and strangely enough the people in the loop didn’t care to visit a damp, filthy underground slum. They had even fewer Academy students fall down manholes and stumble into this inverted land of wonder. Hence why the sight of Dimitri and Claude caused certain Abyssans to panic. With their swords. 

These Abyssans were named Byleth, which was a lovely name. Potentially alliterative, too. 

“Your Highness.” Yuri was gritting his teeth together. “I am…so sorry.” 

“No harm done,” Dimitri said instantly. He wanted to express to Yuri that it was actually a great honor to be harmed by his sister, but he didn’t know how to say that in a normal way. “We were the intruders, after all. Byleth was just defending her home.” He turned to Byleth, who was standing stiffly behind her brother in a perfect match to Claude’s stiff stance behind Dimitri. Dimitri had barely taken his eyes off her, and yet she had failed to make a single facial expression. Fascinating. “Your swordplay was incredible, by the way. The way you held that sword to my throat was impeccable. I assume you’ve been professionally trained.”

“Here and there.” Byleth looked pleased, making Dimitri feel like a star. She pointed awkwardly at the silver sword at Dimitri’s hip. It was the same old sword Dimitri always had - some antique of the royal family, passed down from generation to generation. “I like your sword.”

Instantly, Dimitri said, “Thank you! Do you want it?”’

Byleth hummed. Yuri’s eyes widened a fraction, and Claude stifled a groan. “My sword is pretty old…”

“Here, take it.” Dimtiri immediately undid his belt and handed the sword over to her, belt and sheath and all. She held it up and admired it, testing its weight. Yuri’s jaw clenched. “Consider it my apology for following you uninvited into your home.”

Byleth nodded, twirling the sword easily in her hands. It was tremendously attractive. “Apology accepted. We’re even.” Her mouth twitched infinitesimally into something that may be loosely deemed a smile. Yuri’s eyes widened severely. “Thank you.”

Dimitri looked away, coughing. His face felt like it was going to melt off. “You’re welcome. It - ah, it suits you.”

“Do you think so?” Byleth asked, pleased. Perhaps. It was very hard to tell. Her voice was in a very strict monotone, but their deep spiritual connection meant that Dimitri could vibe these things out. “It does match my outfit.”

Dimitri would never be able to think of silver again without thinking of her. “I’m hono -”

“Your Highness.” Yuri’s voice hadn’t changed; nor had his words. His expression didn’t seem any different and his body language hadn’t shifted. But something about him was far now far less welcoming - something was different, all the same. “We’re very grateful for your gift, and for the forgiveness you’ve extended towards us regarding what happened. But it would be highly irresponsible of me to keep you here any longer. Abyss isn’t safe for somebody like you and your…vassal.”

“Khalid, sir.” Claude winked loudly at Dimitri, making absolutely certain that Dimitri understood that Claude was giving a fake foreign name. Yes, Dimitri picked up on that. “Really, wonderful place you have here. Very chic. Couldn’t possibly be that unsafe - if we had a good tour guide.”

Frostily, Yuri said, “I’ll have some scouts escort you back topside immediately. I’m certain Lady Rhea is looking for you.”

“It took her three days to notice that I tossed Lindhardt into a well, so I’m certain we have at least that long.” Claude leaned forward eagerly. “Who founded this place? Whose idea was it? Why is it underground?”

“Somebody who is no longer with us,” Yuri said, curt and even. “I’m the leader of Abyss now. And as the leader, it’s my responsibility to get future leaders of Fodlan back to their cozy beds.”

Claude flapped an easy hand. “Sure, let’s get the future leader of Fodlan back to bed. But this humble vassal’s awfully interested in this operation you’re running. Don’t suppose you could allow me to run around a bit? Check some things out? See your tax records?”

“I think even vassals have someplace to be, Khalid.”

“Why are you saying his name like that?” Byleth asked Yuri. She paused a beat. “Never mind. I don’t care.”

“There’s a great deal of places this vassal should be,” Claude said cheerfully, “but I think there’s only one place where I have to be.” He easily slid into the unoccupied chair next to Dimitri, leaning forward and folding his hands on Yuri’s desk. He had to nudge apart several scrolls of parchment and pieces of paper to do it - the man’s desk was stacked with forms, work, and quills. “Let’s put our cards on the table, huh? There’s a lot the church doesn’t tell us peons, Yuri. I’m willing to bet you know a lot of it. So in exchange for you telling me what you know, I don’t tell Lady Rhea what I know about a certain somebody trying to lop off the head of the future king of Faerghus. Sound good to you?”

Yuri crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, one thin purple eyebrow arching. “You have a lot to learn about the art of the deal, kid. What will Rhea say when she learns that Prince Dimitri and Duke Claude were out past curfew skulking around slums?”

“Duke Claude’s happily asleep in his warm bed, and every member of his House is sufficiently paid to corroborate that story.” Claude smiled winningly. “Khalid is a humble vassal interested in touring your fine slum. Khalid might also have some other gossip that you might be interested in.” 

“Like what, kid?”

Claude’s grin widened. “I might tell you tomorrow morning. After my visit.”

Yuri was silent. His eyes flickered to Dimtiri, then to Claude. He glanced at his sister. “By, wait outside?” 

Byleth nodded and exited the room. Dimtiri yearned for her achingly. But Yuri just straightened, face as blank and unreadable as his sister’s, and said something to Claude in Almyran.

For the first time, Claude was struck off balance. He looked at Dimitri, eyes wide, then back at Yuri. He said something empathetically, shaking his head, but Yuri just responded curtly.

In the Fodlan language, Claude said, “On the honor of my father and mother, no. I’m not trying to -”

“Really?” Yuri said. “You’re a novice at this con artist thing, kid. You’re too rich to do it well. Word of advice - don’t smile like you’re hiding something, smile like you’re keeping a secret.”

Claude pulled back a little, and Dimitri saw that he was almost pouting. “You don’t know me.”

“I know things about you that you don’t know about yourself.” Yuri looked at Dimitri, expression gentle and soft and bland. Like sheep’s wool, or dandelion fluff on the breeze. “Do you want to hang around Abyss a little longer too, Your Highness?”

Images of Byleth wielding his silver sword, flicking the blade in a deadly dance, spun through Dimitri’s mind. If he left Abyss now and never saw her again he would lose what little scrap of will to live he had left. Dimitri couldn’t keep losing good things. He was running out.

“Yes!” Dimitri said - a bit too quickly, a bit too empathetically. He coughed, forcing himself to settle down. “I mean - yes. As a future ruler, I should see how the other half lives. It’s important for a ruler to understand the needs of all of his people.”

It was perfectly true. It wasn’t what he was thinking, but it was perfectly true. Dimitri had the faint notion that perhaps he and Claude were missing the point of something important, something much bigger than them - than Claude’s secrets or Dimitri’s love story - but the allure of secrets and love was fairly overpowering at the moment. 

Easily, as easily as he said everything else, Yuri said, “My sister’s not on the market to entertain you. I can steer plenty of other lovely ladies or gentlemen your way, but she’s a little busy with her own work.” Yuri tilted his head, looking at Dimitri through half-lidded eyes. Dimitri flushed a little. “If you insist, I’d be happy to spare some time for you. But I’m afraid my sister is just too busy.” 

Claude stood up, chair skidding against the hard stone. “I just put my family’s name on this! As -” Claude said something quickly in Almyran, which completely flew over Dimitri’s head. “ - I am vouching for Prince Dimitri. I wouldn’t even say that for me, but I can sure as hell say it for him. You can trust us.” 

Yuri’s face was unchanged. “I’ve heard that one before.” 

And although Dimitri didn’t understand half the conversation - although he knew that there was subtext he wasn’t getting, that there were things about the world he just couldn’t see - he understood the right thing to do well enough for now. Standing in the midst of Abyss, it was clear.

Dimitri stood up, bowing low at Yuri. “I apologize for our intrusion. I see that my classmate and I have overstayed our welcome. I have no desire to add to the heavy burdens you and your village already bear. Please, if you can help escort us back to the surface, we’d be very grateful.”

When Dimtiri straightened, he saw a peculiar look on Yuri’s face. It was a little thoughtful, and a lot of another foreign emotion. “What will you do now that you know we’re here?”

“Ask Rhea how we can help,” Dimitri said immediately. Left implied: and confess to our wrongdoings, like good children. “Or you, if you’re amenable. Abyss is not located within my lands, but I am aware that many places like Abyss reside in the darkness of Faerghus. If I can do anything for you now - learn what you can teach me - then I consider it education on how to provide for my subjects in the future.”

“He’s sincere,” Claude said firmly. He stood up too, thumping his heart with a closed fist. “I haven’t been sincere since the poisoned fig incident, but I can swear too. We just want to help. So let us help - it can’t be every day you have two future leaders of Fodlan asking you what we can do for you.”

Yuri stared at them for a long few seconds, expression glazed smooth and unreadable, before he finally sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I suppose you want my sister as a tour guide.”

“You just said she’s busy,” Dimitri asked, tilting his head in confusion. “I assumed she wouldn’t be available to show us around.” 

Yuri narrowed his eyes - damn, the man was impeccable. Dimitri had attempted one subtle fib and he was caught out immediately. But the lie served its purpose, and something subtle in Yuri’s shoulders untensed. Dimitri hadn’t realized that they were tense at all.

Yuri opened his mouth and said -

“Boss! Did we really kidnap the prince of Faerghus?”

The door thumped open with such immense force that it smacked against the far wall. A truly giant man strode inside, followed closely on his heels by a blonde woman wearing an unsettling smile and a short dark-skinned woman picking at a cuticle. On the tail end of the party was Byleth. She nodded at Dimitri, who nodded back in a daze.

“I told them you were busy,” Byleth said serenely. 

“Yeah, busy with His Royal Highness!” The large man stopped in front of Dimitri and carefully scrutinized him from head to toe. Dimitri allowed himself to be scrutinized. “Damn! What are they feeding you Academy kids these days? You’re solid muscle. Not as much as me, but not bad either!”

Dimitri fought the urge to sweat. The women flanked the big guy, blinking at him curiously. “I train frequently.”

“Really? Guess Bye-Bye’s found another freak.” The dark-skinned woman yawned, nodding at Byleth as she stood at her brother’s side. “You should hang out. Hit each other with swords or whatever.” 

“Greetings to His Royal Highness and friend!” the blonde woman yelled, almost at the top of her voice. She put her hands on her hips, lifting her chin in the air. “Welcome to the home of Constance von Nuvelle! Our decor may be lacking, but our hospitality is second to none!”

“Really?” the other woman drawled. “I think the rats add some pizazz.”

“Silly Hapi! The rats are disgusting!”

“Bye-Bye eats garbage too, but we don’t give her a hard time about it.”

“Hospitality, huh?” Yuri smiled, and for the first time it seemed a little real. “Balthus, obviously you don’t have anything more important going on. Can you host our two noble young visitors? Who we didn’t kidnap?”

“We were a little kidnapped,” Claude said. 

Balthus grinned, propping a hand on a hip. “I dunno, are you paying me?” 

Quickly, Dimitri added, “We’ll compensate you for your efforts, of course.”

“Wait,” the dark-skinned woman asked the room, “are we holding you hostage? Because it sounds like we’re holding you hostage.”

“Sold, kid!” Balthus thumped a friendly hand on Dimtiri’s back. He didn’t stumble, which seemed to shock Balthus before he withdrew his hand and quickly covered up the motion. “You look like a good hand with a weapon. Not you, Almyran guy, you look like a wimp.” Claude narrowed his eyes, but Balthus just looked backwards at Byleth. “You should spar with our new friend, Byleth. I’ll finally get to see you knock a different musclehead on the ground!”

Constance squealed, clapping her hands. “Byleth and the new children can play together! Oh, how heartwarming! Socialization is a rare opportunity for Bylie indeed!” She looked at Yuri and stage whispered, “We cannot afford to lose this chance, Yuri!”

“Byleth doesn’t know a lot of kids her own age,” the dark-skinned woman told Dimitri and Claude. “She’s…a little awkward.”

Byleth blinked at them.

“Wow,” Claude muttered, “you don’t say.”

“I forgive you for holding a sword to my neck,” Dimitri said earnestly. “You were doing the right thing.”

“Seriously, are we holding you hostage or not?”

 Yuri’s eye twitched. But his posture had fully loosened, and the presence of the strangers seemed to make him breathe a little easier. “We aren’t. And Byleth isn't a puppy we need to socialize, Hapi. You know how noble boys are.”

“Noble boy and his loyal vassal,” Claude added quickly, sticking stubbornly to the bit. Dimitri had no idea why, but Claude rarely vocalized his reasons for doing anything. “What do you think, Byleth? Want to hang out with us, or want to stay with your brother?”

Byleth stared at both of them unblinkingly. Finally, after a long few seconds of thought, Byleth said, “I want to train with Dimitri.” 

Hapi shot a canny look at Yuri. “Balthus’ll supervise. Connie and I too, if you want.” 

For a long second Dimitri thought Yuri was going to say no anyway. Dimitri would have accepted it. It would have robbed Dimitri of the only good thing left in his life, but he would have accepted it. Good things came and left all of the time, and part of life was learning how to deal with that. Dimitri liked to fancy himself an expert in it. He could lose one more thing - one flash of hope. 

But Yuri only sighed. “Alright. Supervised. Now get out of my office, all of you, I’m far too busy to juggle nobility on top of everything else.” Claude perked up. “All of you. You want to talk about Rhea - we’ll do it after dinner.” 

“Understood!” Claude bowed at Yuri again, and Dimitri hastily copied him. “You won’t regret opening your doors to us, sir!”

“Uh-huh.” Left unsaid - he definitely already was. “Out of my office, then. I’ve been away for too long and I have a lot of work to catch up on.”

Byleth tilted her head, a frown tugging at her lips. “You should leave less often. Your work piles up. It stresses you out.” 

Yuri gave her a big smile, as if he was keeping a secret. “But if I don’t leave, I’ll never experience the joy of seeing you again.” 

“You’re corny, Yuri.” 

“Love turns even the best of us into cornballs.” Yuri and Byleth shared a look, empty and opaque, but in that blankness Dimitri saw something far deeper than he had ever experienced. “Just look at Constance. Every time she looks at herself in the mirror she gets sillier.” 

“Excuse me, my sweet Yuri -”

“You’re excused, my darling Constance.”

“Must we fight,” Hapi panned, monotone and disinterested. “We’re a family. Look. You’ll make the baby cry.”

Byleth blinked at Hapi. “But I can’t cry.” 

“Look. You’ll give the baby psychological issues.” 

Balthus laughed again, cracking his knuckles with a pop that echoed throughout the cramped office. “This’ll be fun! It’s been a while since we’ve had a good adventure, eh Yuri?”

“Yes,” Yuri said, “that’s altogether what I’m afraid of.”

Truthfully, at that point Dimitri was no longer listening. He was just looking at Byleth, the girl who could not cry. And Byleth looked back at him, the boy whose heart was always crying. They saw each other, the heart-burdened and the heartless, and something in one reached out to balance the other.

And although the weight of the world above them crushed Dimitri’s shoulders, although they stood within damp and filthy slums tucked into the bowels of the planet, for those precious few seconds Dimitri and Byleth existed in the world with no obligation to anybody but each other.

_____________

ii. 

Yuri was sitting in this bathroom fruitlessly scrubbing blood out of his one good outfit when he received word that Lady Rhea was requesting an audience. Because it was Rhea, he also received word that she was already waiting for him in the destroyed classroom. 

Damn it! He had just returned! And he didn’t have anything to wear!

In the end, he was forced to keep Lady Rhea waiting another fifteen minutes because he had to dig out an older, rattier outfit and re-do his makeup. Approach: ‘I’m in my twenties, my stare is cold and piercing, and damn it I belong in this conference room’. Then he had to waste another five minutes because his hair was a wreck and his hands still smelled like blood. By the time he finally speed-walked down the halls and skidded to a stop in front of the classroom doors Yuri was twenty minutes late and already fighting the urge to freak.

As always, he halted at the doors. He took a deep breath in, then out. His outfit was dingy, which made him feel like crap, but the power makeup helped pick up the slack. He inhaled, exhaled, shook out his limbs, and entered the classroom. 

Rhea was standing in front of a blackboard, her back turned to the door. She was dressed in an old brown cloak, but with the hood down and her beautiful green hair left to flow over her shoulders the figure was unmistakable as Rhea. She was writing in beautiful and flowing script on the blackboard with a piece of stubby chalk, and speaking in a low voice to the child standing next to her. The child was staring up at her, eyes wide, chewing on a knuckle. Th child’s dark blue hair was pulled into a stubby ponytail, and she was wearing only a tattered black dress and swimming in a brown jacket sized for a large adult man. 

“ - your name. See, this is the B…like ‘bye’. Can you say ‘bye’?” The child blinked owlishly up at Rhea. “That’s alright. You’ll get it. You’re doing a great job already.” 

Yuri coughed, and Rhea quickly turned around. With a strange start Yuri noticed that she was dressed down even more than usual, her face plain and wearing only a simple white dress underneath the cloak. Without her own makeup, she seemed tired. She smiled wanly at Yuri, who bowed back. The child turned around too, gnawing fastidiously at her knuckle. 

“Yuri. I’m sorry to call upon you again so quickly after your return. Did all go well?”

“The job was done.” Deepen your voice, sound older - sound disaffected, yet sincere. Yuri wondered if he would ever live long enough that he could stop pretending to be older. “The deceased is no longer a threat to the church.”

“He was a threat to the safety of Fodlan,” Rhea said firmly. Yuri wasn’t sure about that one, but he did appreciate Rhea’s conscientious efforts to only toss absolute bastards into his pen. “I’m afraid I must ask something of you yet again, Yuri. This is important. I cannot fully disclose to you why this mission is so important, but please trust me when I say that this is a matter extremely close to my heart.”

Yuri straightened, folding his hands behind his back. He wanted to die a bit. Another important mission? As if managing Abyss, captaining his rogues, and assassinating bastards weren’t enough missions? 

How long would she keep punishing him? 

But Yuri just bowed. It was no effort at all to keep his expression placid. “I can accomplish any mission you give me, my lady.”

“I know. That’s why I’m trusting you with this.” Rhea put both hands on the girl’s shoulder and squeezed. The girl squirmed uncomfortably. You and me both, kid. “Yuri, this is Byleth. Byleth, this is Yuri. Why don’t you say hi?”

Byleth stared at Yuri, gnawing on her finger. Somebody probably ought to slap those knuckles with a ruler. She wasn’t a young child - twelve or thirteen, perhaps - but the habit and the wide eyes made her seem younger. 

Yuri gave her his special ‘talking to vulnerable kids’ smile. “How do you do, my lady?”

Byleth stared at Yuri. A theme. 

Rhea frowned, squeezing Byleth’s shoulder one last time before dropping her hands. “She hasn’t talked much since it happened. She…doesn’t seem to remember anything.”

“Anything about what happened?”

“Anything at all. She can’t seem to recall anything about her family or her life. Darling, you ought to get your knuckle out of your mouth.” Rhea ducked her head, staring steadfastly at Byleth. The girl slowly dropped her knuckle from her mouth, looking a little spooked, before Rhea lifted her head again. “Byleth here was kidnapped. There are…some forces in Fodlan that place great value in Byleth. I don’t know how they learned about her, but they haven’t left her in peace since they found out. They’ve tried to kidnap her several times, but their latest attempt was successful. The Church knights were only able to rescue her two days ago. The knight who rescued her brought her to me immediately, and now I must bring her to you.”

“Have you spoken with Aelfric about this?”

“Of course. He’s already given his consent.” Rhea’s eyes glimmered strangely in the light. Sometimes the only emotion from that woman Yuri could truly understand was the dark depths of her sadness. “Discretion is of the utmost importance. The people after her will not give up.” 

Ah. Yuri understood. “Does she have a valuable crest?”

Rhea put a hand on Byleth’s head, slowly stroking her hair. Byleth went cross-eyed looking upwards and gawking at the hand. “Byleth is a very special girl.”

Alright, so don’t tell him. “You want to hide her and her family in Abyss?” 

But Rhea just shook her head, expression mournful. “Byleth is an orphan. She will be alone in Abyss. That’s why I must ask for your help, Yuri.”

In the girl’s big dark eyes Yuri saw only trouble. Abyss sheltered plenty of people in hiding, but the people after Byleth seemed to be on a different level. If hiding the girl here brought danger into Abyss, then…

Then she was still a girl who needed help. Yuri would deal with any danger as it came. 

“Madame Birch will be happy to take her in.” Yuri smiled at Byleth again, taking care to crinkle his eyes and gave it positive energy. “My friend Madame Birch takes care of kids just like you, Byleth. She’ll be so excited to meet you. I know some girls her age in your house who’ve been begging me for another friend.” 

But Rhea just shook her head, expression somber and firm. “The forces after Byleth are powerful. I need to place her with the strongest person in Abyss - the person most able to protect her. That’s you, Yuri. Please take her yourself.”

Ah. What?

For the first time, Yuri had to fight to keep his expression and tone still. “My lady, my workload frequently takes me out of Abyss.”

“Then I can reduce your workload.”

That perked Yuri’s ears. He was a fool for not recognizing it immediately. Rhea was desperate. Her emotional involvement in this was far greater than keeping a tool out of the hands of the enemy. Byleth had to be family somehow - maybe even a secret daughter. Having a secret daughter of Lady Rhea in Yuri’s back pocket…under his exclusive supervision…

It was a death knell if anything happened to the kid. But the leverage was too good to pass up.

Fuck, he could even negotiate right here and now. He ought to send Byleth out of the room for this, but it was important that she understood what was happening and why. As much as she seemingly could - the girl may be a little touched. It didn’t matter, obviously, but it would necessitate a change in approach.                 

“Well,” Yuri said slowly, “the greatest distraction from Abyss would be my jobs. I would like to stay in Abyss full-time. Give her a more consistent upbringing.”

Rhea’s eyebrow quirked upwards, but Yuri was unrepentant. She knew what she was doing by looping him in. “I’ll reduce the quantity of jobs I assign you.”

“To once every four months, perhaps.”

“Once every two.” 

“That would be highly detrimental for Byleth’s childhood development.”

Evenly, Rhea said, “Going forth, I will give you a job every three months at maximum. Is that a deal?”

That was fucking fantastic. Yuri was almost lightheaded, but he pressed on. “Sounds like a deal. But raising a child is no simple matter, my lady. Child-proofing the environment, educating her, feeding her…Abyss is run on a razor-thin budget. The expenses concern me.” 

Rhea sighed. “I will funnel more money into your personal budget to compensate for the expense.” Yuri waited patiently. “And into the Abyss orphanages. Anything else, Yuri?”

She could be such a sucker sometimes. Sometimes Yuri wondered if she let him do it. Definitely not. Probably not. 

“I’m satisfied. You’re as generous as always, Lady Rhea.”

“This is in exchange for Byleth’s safety.” Rhea’s expression sobered, the soft silk solidifying into stone. “In exchange for what I’m giving you, I need her safety absolutely guaranteed. Nothing can happen to this girl.”

“No need to fret, my lady. Abyss is the safest place in Fodlan. Nobody even knows we exist.” Yuri bent down a little, smiling at Byleth. She had regained access to her knuckle, and was chewing it fastidiously again. “What do you say, Byleth? Want to go home with me?”

If the girl wasn’t touched, she must have understood. She must understand that the woman who would not admit to a relationship with her had just bartered for her residency with a teenage assassin, den mother, and prostitute. All things considered, the price had been insultingly low. 

Byleth just stared at him. Alright, maybe she didn’t understand. That would make this harder. Yuri really should have asked for more money. Teach the girl the first and most important lesson of her new life: that you should never sell yourself for less than what you were worth. Or market value, if you couldn’t get any buyers otherwise. Maybe this was just market value. 

Smile, Yuri. Smile. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together, Byleth.” 

Byleth blinked. At least she was a quiet child. This would be easy. 

______________

This was impossible.

This was shit. Absolute and complete shit. Why wasn’t she like Bernadetta? Yuri had thought she would be like Bernadetta. All Bernadetta did was nap, read, exhaustively detail the plot of her book, and cry. Byleth couldn’t even read. Apparently, when children couldn’t read, they decided to follow you around instead.

Everywhere. She followed him everywhere. When Yuri sat in the small storage room he co-opted as an office she crawled underneath his desk and swiped at his ankles. When Yuri visited the rogue’s encampments and gave the leadership its newly tightened security measures, she ran around the training field and started waving wooden training swords around. It took three rogues to wrest a sword from her. When Yuri made the rounds of Abyss and talked to its citizens, hearing every problem and offering every condolence he could, she hovered at his heels and gawked at every conversation with wide eyes. 

It was like having another googly-eyed shadow. Yuri didn’t have five seconds to himself anymore. He couldn’t even visit the tavern and unwind by flirting with one of his regular hook-ups - something about having a thirteen year old (twelve? Fourteen?) hovering at your elbow really killed your game. This must be what the older girls used to refer to as cockblocking. 

Byleth still hadn’t said a word. She observed, but never really listened. Still couldn’t read or write. She could catch the rats scuttling around the gutters with her bare hands. The girl may be touched. Which, again, didn’t matter - but it made it extraordinarily difficult to convey to her the importance of ‘me time’. Or ‘don’t eat that’. Or ‘put down that sword’.

It was official. Byleth was a demon. Figured that the wolf in sheep’s clothing would spawn a feral little wolf cub. Yuri should have charged more. 

At least Aelfric had his back. The cardinal had little time to sneak down into Abyss, but he had begun sparing whatever time he could towards playing with Byleth. Aelfric practically begged Yuri to allow him to spend time entertaining Byleth, saving Yuri from the effort of begging Aelfric to take her. Last time Yuri checked, Aelfric spent their time together teaching Byleth her letters in the destroyed classroom. And thank the goddess for that. 

“I don’t understand why she didn’t ask me,” Aelfric said, for roughly the hundredth time. They were sitting at a stone desk in the classroom, eating a coarse but filling breakfast. Byleth was cramming a hunk of bread the size of her face into her mouth. “I have my duties, but I would have gladly forfeited them for the sake of this child. You’re barely more than a child yourself, Yuri -”

Yuri couldn’t help but bark a sharp laugh. “You do realize that you and my mother are the only people who have said that in a decade.”

“That doesn’t make it untrue,” Aelfric said gently. Yuri ducked his head, focusing on pressing a napkin into Byleth’s hands and directing her to wipe her own face. There was no way this girl even knew how to do her makeup. Ridiculous. “Rhea shouldn’t have put this responsibility on you. I don’t know what she was thinking, honestly.” 

That made Yuri feel a little defensive. Byleth pushed away her plate, gnawing on her final hunk of bread, and Yuri pulled over her writing tablet. Aelfric had even sprung for a few pieces of paper and pencils dyed bright colors. Yuri hurriedly placed the paper and pencils in front of her. Last he remembered, drawing was an activity favored by younger children, but Byleth couldn’t exactly partake in the age-appropriate activities of gossiping, bullying other girls, sewing, or reading. Goddess, did she even know how to sew or embroider? Yuri would have to teach her.

“I could beat anybody in Abyss in a straight fight,” Yuri said. He hoped his defensiveness didn’t show. It was a little harder to hide with Aelfric. “Even you. More importantly, I know how to be stealthy and hide myself and others. I know the Abyss system like the back of my hand. As far as Abyssans go, I understand why Lady Rhea thought I was the best choice.”

“I’m not doubting your talent, Yuri,” Aelfric soothed, “I just don’t understand why Rhea couldn’t have put Byleth in the care of an adult. You have enough responsibilities of your own without adding another one on the heap.”

Yuri bristled. “I’m almost eighteen.”

“Eighteen with the burdens of a thirty year old.” Aelfric sighed, and Yuri guiltily subsided too. It wasn’t right to get defensive at Aelfric. After everything the man did to help him, he at least deserved the benefit of the doubt. “I just want you to enjoy what remains of your youth. There’s a sweet nun volunteering at the orphanage -” Yuri groaned. “Yuri, why can’t you hear me out on this?”

“You’re always going on about finding a nice girl, Aelfric -”

“Because you’re re-traumatizing yourself with all of these men,” Aelfric said patiently. Yuri looked down at his hands, restraining himself from picking at a manicured cuticle. “Look at you, Yuri. You haven’t changed any of your habits. You’re still trying to appeal to men. You have to begin to heal.”

There was something heavy and old in Yuri’s chest. It was a burden that never grew lighter - a pain that never retreated. The best he could do was ignore it. But Yuri kept picking at it all the same. “It’s not my fault that men continue to approach me.”

“But it’s your responsibility to turn them down. And men wouldn’t approach you so often if you didn’t wear all that makeup.” 

When Yuri spoke, his voice was quieter than he expected. He had wanted it to be louder, stronger. But something had cut it down. “It’s not for them…”

A small, bony finger poked Yuri’s side.

He looked over at Byleth, who was staring at him with her usual wide, serious eyes. She picked up her picture and presented it to Yuri, who took it and inspected the image carefully. 

It was of them. The girl was a far better artist than he expected, and although the proportions were a little wonky Yuri could clearly recognize all three of them. They were sitting on crates outside of a tent - a tent that resembled the ones in Abyss, but was more reminiscent of a standard issue mercenary’s tent. Yuri was drawn with great care, sitting straight backed on the crate and staring straight at the viewer. His makeup was exaggerated and poorly applied. Aelfric sat on Yuri’s left, wrinkles clearly outlined and his blood-red habit engulfing his figure. The red lines on the habit seemed closer to bloodstains. 

In comparison to the rest of the drawing, Byleth’s figure was remarkably undetailed. She only drew the faint outlines of herself, with a few expressive lines demarcating an abstract face. The greatest level of detail was in the giant brown jacket she never took off - the careful impressions of its stitches and metal buttons were a strange contrast to the ghost wearing it. 

“This is excellent,” Yuri said, genuinely impressed. Sometimes it was easy to think of her as younger than thirteen-or-so, but at other times her true age was perfectly obvious. Even the ghostly Byleth felt more like an artistic choice.  “I like your usage of color. It’s very powerful.” He pointed at a spot in the upper left of the page, tucked in the corner closest to Byleth and furthest than everybody else. It was just a tight swirl of green pencil - the gradient of density between the thick middle and loose outsides giving the green a strange halo-like impression. “Is this the sun?”

Byleth gave him a disgusted look. Yuri could guess: ‘the sun isn’t green, moron’. Potentially: ‘what sun? What’s a sun? I know only the Depths’. 

“Then what is it?” 

Byleth tugged the drawing away from him, replacing it on the table and attacking the page with a pencil. Chewing the edge of the pencil, mind working furiously, she carefully wrote out a word. She stared at the word, scratched it out, and then tried again. She put down her pencil, nodded in satisfaction, and showed it to Yuri again.

He squinted at the page. In messy, juvenile script underneath the halo - with an arrow carefully drawn towards the halo, in case he missed the reference - she had written ‘SOHTHESE’. 

“Sohthese?” Yuri asked, hiding confusion. “Is that a friend of yours?” Byleth shook her head. Then she nodded. “Is…that a yes or no?”

“She’s making great progress, but her spelling needs work. Let me see.” Aelfric held out a hand, and Yuri silently passed him the page. Aelfric took one look at the page and his eyebrows jumped. “I think she means ‘Sothis’. Is that correct, Byleth?” Byleth nodded vigorously. “Where did you hear that name, Byleth? I don’t think I ever told you that.” 

Wait. That name was a little familiar. “Is that the name of a saint?” Yuri asked. “I didn’t know you were giving her catechism classes.”

“I’m not. And it’s the name of the Goddess herself. It’s not very well used - typically only scriptural scholars use it with any regularity.” Aelfric frowned down at Byleth, and for the first time his expression seemed troubled. “Where could you have heard that word…?”

“Wow,” Yuri panned, “I wonder where the secret daughter of Lady Rhea heard the name of the goddess. The world may never know.” 

“Please, Yuri, be serious.” Aelfric was still frowning, staring at the paper intently. Byleth gestured for him to give the paper back, but he didn’t seem to notice. He just stared and stared at the paper, walking mental paths far beyond the provincial little world of Yuri and Byleth. 

“Aelfric, I think she wants the paper back.”

“What? Oh, yes.” Aelfric looked up, still somewhat dazed. “Could I potentially keep this, Byleth?” Byleth shook her head no. “I see. That’s alright, then.” He passed it back, and Byleth tugged it firmly out of his hands. She replaced it on the table, smoothing it over carefully. 

“I didn’t figure you for the religious type,” Yuri told Byleth. Byleth shrugged. “Are you going to become a nice nun too?”

“There’s nothing wrong with marrying a good woman and settling down,” Aelfric scolded lightly. “A home and a family is the greatest joy a young man can have. If you don’t change your behavior, you’ll never find happiness. I’m only worried about you.”

An extensive, agonizing rip split the air. 

Byleth was holding up the carefully constructed drawing in clear view of both men. Making direct and unblinking eye contact, she looked at Aelfric and ripped the paper straight down between Yuri and Aelfric. Yuri and Aelfric stared at her in shocked silence as she finished cruelly ripping Aelfric from the paper, balling up his figure in one clenched fist and carefully replacing the cropped page on the table. Yuri, Byleth, and Sothis looked very happy together. Aelfric’s face was split in half. 

Silence burdened the room. Aefric and Yuri gaped at Byleth in pure shock. Byleth happily took a blue pencil and began threading in streaks of blue in the green halo. 

A bark of laughter escaped Yuri’s chest. His chest was light and full, and the thick iron bars that held his broken pieces together loosened and allowed him to breathe. Another burst of laughter escaped the abandoned prison, then another, and then the inmates began running the asylum. Yuri began wheezing, clutching his own stomach as he laughed uncontrollably. 

Then Byleth laughed too, a light and ugly snort. It was the only sound he had ever heard from her. After weeks, the first and only sound Yuri had ever heard from Byleth was laughter. No tears, no screams of pain, no words begging for help, no moans for food - just laughter. A small smile painting the face of the girl as silent as death.

Yuri and Byleth, two prisoners unrestrained for the first time that they could remember, laughed together in defiance. 

In the end, Byleth had given the picture to Yuri. She had forgotten about the whole incident after a few months - a few years later, when prompted about that picture and the Goddess, Byleth would just stare blankly in confusion. She didn’t remember those days well.

Yuri remembered them. He remembered the picture too. He had placed the picture between two pages of a book and hidden it inside a desk. It remained in that desk for a very long time, and nobody but him ever knew it existed.

_____________

And then he lost her. 

He lost her. Aelfric asked if he could babysit her for the day, and because Yuri was tired and wanted some time to himself and to actually go on a freaking date for once he said yes, and when Byleth’s curfew at 2100 passed she and Aelfric still were not home. Aelfric knew to get her home by curfew. He knew that Byleth had to stay in Abyss for her own safety. He knew.

Yuri combed all of Abyss, top to bottom. Images of Aelfric and Byleth floating face down in the canal flashed throughout his mind. But a rogue stationed at one of the entrances from the monastery into Abyss said that he let Aelfric and Byleth through the entrance only a few hours ago. Apparently Yuri had asked Aelfric to take Byleth to the chapel to pray. The guard hadn’t thought twice about it. Yuri was Byleth’s guardian, but it was Aelfric. Some people were above suspicion. Some people could take children wherever they wanted. 

Yuri sprinted back to his room and threw on his spare pilfered Academy uniform, stolen from the closet of a noble boy who should have known better. He pulled on the jacket as he ran, feet thumping in time with the omnipresent dripping of water and the squeak of rats, and his mind was nothing but blaring static as he unscrewed the entrance to one of the least-known entrances into the monastery. 

He climbed the ladder at top speed, stopping only to grab the stone handle at the very top of the chute. He pushed full force against the handle, and after a second he heard the hard grind of stone on stone as the mechanism was activated and shifted the statue of Saint Cethlenn to the side. It was one of the finicky trapdoors that was almost impossible to access from above ground, but relatively easy from below. Yuri often had morbid daydreams about Garreg Mach falling under attack and how he would evacuate the entire population of the school out through the tunnels. 

Yuri clambered out of the tunnel, hoisting himself into Seteth’s office. He looked around - empty, but the sound of voices echoed from the adjacent room - and quickly stood up so he could push the statue back into place. The voices were Rhea’s familiar cadence and another unfamiliar deep male voice. In any other circumstance, Yuri would have cared about revealing himself in front of a stranger.  Today, he barely thought about it. Yuri burst out of Seteth’s office and skidded into the main chambers, ignoring Seteth’s cry of alarm and the rustling sounds of the guard’s armor. Yuri only halted when he was directly in front of Rhea, looking up into her alarmed green eyes.

Yuri bent double, leaning on his knees and gasping for breath. Rhea leaned over him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. The other man in the room was absolutely huge, with big hair and bigger muscles. If it wasn’t for the Academy student’s uniform he would have assumed the man was in his thirties.

“Whoah,” the big guy said. “Where the hell did you come from?”

“Where,” Yuri gasped, hard and heavy, “is Aelfric?” 

Rhea paled, eyes widening. Fear. Why fear? “He told me he was visiting you today. What’s wrong?”

“Sounds great! So it’s official that nobody knows where Father Aelfric was, then?” The big guy waved around a thick folder of paper, one hand propped on his hip. “Because I hung out in his office for an hour waiting for him to show up to our appointment. He said it was important, too! All this stuff about helping save me from expulsion. And the guy can’t even show up? We’re talking about my future here!”

“Our guard saw him taking Byleth to the surface!” Yuri cried frantically. The big guy’s brows furrowed, but Yuri couldn’t be assed about him right now. “I can’t find Aelfric or Byleth anywhere in Abyss! Lady Rhea, you have -”

But Rhea was already straightening and turning to the guards. In a tone he had never heard before, she said, “Find Cardinal Aelfric and bring him to me immediately. Shut down the monastery until he and Byleth are found. Nobody in or out.” 

“I know where he might have gone.” The big guy flipped the folder open, flashing messy stacks of paper and ripped pages from books. “I got bored waiting around for him, so I went through his desk.” No wonder this guy was about to get expelled. “Never knew one guy could get so into his ancient mausoleum hobby. Would you happen to know anything about this, Lady Rhea?”

Lady Rhea was silent. Yuri was still shaking. He should have been shocked, he should have been horrified. But he wasn’t. Yuri knew. Yuri had always known, he just hadn’t wanted to see it. 

“This is all my fault,” Yuri whispered. He wanted to throw up. He knew this sort of nausea - the kind invoked by visceral disgust at something you found within yourself. “I let him take her. I let him run off with her. This is all my…”

The way Aelfric looked at her. The way he was constantly volunteering to babysit or entertain her for the day or homeschool her. Yuri had given him everything he wanted - every unsupervised visit, constant knowledge of her location, everything. Because Yuri had trusted Aelfric. 

Trusted. He could be doing anything to her right now, because Yuri had trusted.

Hands, unimaginably large and hairy. Sagging flesh pressing against his own. Was this how Byleth felt right now? Were big hands on her chest? Awful pain, burning like fire. What did Byleth look like when she was in that pain? Did she make the same sounds he had? The squeals and moans. Did they like hearing them from her too? 

“Yuri. Yuri, you have to breathe.” Lithe, strong hands enveloped Yuri’s hands and squeezed tightly. The melodic sound of Lady Rhea’s voice barely permeated the haze. “You’re at Garreg Mach, Yuri. You’re in the home of the Goddess. You’re seventeen. I’m here. Nothing may harm you so long as I’m here.” 

“This is my fault,” Yuri gasped. “This is all my fault.” 

“No, Yuri. Look at me.” Yuri shuddered a final breath before looking up at Rhea. Her expression was intent, but she was still so calm and composed. Yuri couldn’t say the same at all. “This is my fault. I didn’t share my suspicions with you. I’m the one who encouraged you to trust him. This was - this was all me.” 

It was? 

Rhea had known? Rhea had known that Aelfric wasn’t honest? She had known that Aelfric would take Byleth and she hadn’t said anything -

“I know.” Rhea’s expression creased, and a deep pain surfaced in her features. “I just thought…he loved her mother as I once did. Surely he would feel the same as I do…but I suppose not. People still disappoint.” 

Yuri tugged his hands out of Rhea’s, and she let them go. He scrubbed at his face, constantly fighting to keep hold of his breaths and sanity. He was not about to have another stupid flashback. He wasn’t. Not in Garreg Mach and not in front of the stupid Archbishop. He wasn’t going to catastrophize. Byleth was fine. He had fucked up and failed her and it’s all his fault that terrible things are definitely happening to her right now, but it was fine.

“I hate men so damned much,” Yuri muttered miserably. Some part of him was appalled that he had cursed in front of the archbishop, but every other part of him was far more concerned with far more important things. “I’m never trusting a man again. All men do is make children suffer.”

The big guy laughed awkwardly, passing the file folder to the somber Rhea before scrubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “On behalf of men, I guess I have to apologize. I like to think we’re not all that bad…not that I can blame a - um, you, for how you feel. Tell you what, alright?” The big guy flexed an arm, as if he was at a bar trying to impress Yuri, and clapped his hand on his admittedly impressive bicep. “I’ll save this little girl myself! I’ll chase down Father Aelfric, kick his ass, get that little girl safely home, and redeem men in the eyes of women and - ah, you, everywhere! Or my name ain’t Balthus von Adalbrecht!”

A von Adalbrecht. Great. Yuri couldn’t repress the sneer. “Your uncle yells the name of his wife’s brother in bed.”

Balthus stared at Yuri blankly. “How do you know that?”

“How do you think?”

“Oh. Oh! Oh, gross! Why’d you have to say that, man!”

“Blame him,” Yuri snapped. “I don’t need the help of some meathead nobleman. I’ll rescue her myself.” 

But Balthus just shrugged - as if this really was such a simple thing. “Why can’t we both rescue her?” 

“Because I don’t know you!”

“I just introduced myself. Balthazar von Adalbrecht, call me Balthus.” Balthus stuck out his hand, waiting expectantly for a handshake. “And who’re you supposed to be, kid from nowhere?” 

“I’m nobody. You ought to forget you ever saw me.” Rhea was already going to give him an earful over allowing himself to be seen. But Balthus was standing so expectantly, and despite that awful little trivia Yuri just shared he was still looking him in the eyes. “What do you even want from me?”

“What, you think that just because I want to help it means I want something from you?” Yes, that was exactly what Yuri thought. He wasn’t stupid. “Listen, pal. Even nobodies need some help here and there. I’m not exactly a saint, but any half-decent person would want to help you out. Since I’m the strongest, coolest guy in Garreg Mach, that means I have to help. It’s not exactly complicated.”

“There’s no such thing as decent people,” Yuri said sourly. 

Balthus whistled. “You’re a regular beam of sunshine, aren’tcha?”

“I haven’t seen the sun in weeks.”

“You haven’t what now?”

“Take Balthus with you, Yuri.” Lady Rhea’s tone brooked no argument, and Yuri had to give up. It was always a waste of time arguing with a noble. They would just take what they wanted anyway. “You two will take our elite church knights and rescue Byleth. I can lead the way - I think I know where Aelfric and Byleth are.” Rhea’s expression darkened, sending something crawling up Yuri’s spine. Seeing a dangerous expression on her felt…well, it felt more dangerous than usual. “I suspect he is desecrating a corpse right now.” 

“Wow,” Balthus said, impressed. “What the hell did I just walk into?”

“Captain Jeralt will arrive with the forces soon. We’ll leave then.” Rhea turned around, and Yuri and Balthus exchanged troubled looks. Her voice was poisonous. If she sounded like this, what expression was she hiding so carefully? “Aelfric will learn what Byleth’s true family is capable of.”

“Hell yeah!” Balthus cried, pumping a fist. “Go, fam!”

“We aren’t fam!” Yuri snapped. “What does that even mean?”

“But Lady Rhea just said that the bad guy’s gonna learn what -”

“That doesn’t make you fam.”

“But I’m on the team, and the team’s fam, so -”

“What is fam!”

At the time, Yuri’s only consolation had been the fact that he wouldn’t have to deal with Balthus for very long. He was a strong fighter with a compassionate heart, but if Yuri never saw another wealthy and spoiled nobleman again it would be too soon. Yuri hadn’t noticed when Byleth entered his heart, but that final and disastrous kidnapping session had proven it - whether they wielded the weapon or were the weapon, the people closest to you always hurt the most. Better to close your heart.

There were a lot of things Yuri hated about himself. The list was too long to count. But there was always one thing about himself that Yuri hated the most. One thing he just couldn’t stand.

Yuri just couldn’t close his heart. He just couldn’t do it. Every time he failed, and every time he had regretted it. There was no benefit to letting people in. He just couldn’t stop.

But Balthus had saved Byleth’s life that day. So maybe there was a benefit or two. Every once in a great while. 

If you were lucky. 

_________

Three days after Yuri and a moron saved a little girl from a bastard, Abyss received a visitor. 

Yuri received him outside the ruined classroom. It would probably be more professional to bring him to Yuri’s office or something, but Yuri frankly intended to get rid of him as quickly as possible. Team up with the church knights once and suddenly they think that they have the right to go stomping all around Abyss. But you couldn’t exactly tell the captain of the church knights to get off your lawn, so Yuri told Byleth that he would be back in a few minutes and stood outside the classroom in increasingly frustrated wait. 

Byleth had made big eyes at him. She obviously hadn’t wanted him to go. Ugh. He really hoped that this wouldn’t turn into a surprise administrative meeting that took five hours and never accepted Yuri’s input into anything. Yuri was re-teaching Byleth poker - she had undoubtedly already learned before she lost her memory, which was another strike against the ‘secret lovechild of Lady Rhea’ theory that had been admittedly punctured by the corpse of her mother - and she was unsurprisingly excellent at it. Girl was a genius in math.

But Jeralt didn’t show up wearing armor. He was wearing casual, battered furs, leather, and a familiar canvas jacket. Surface people were always tense and anxious in Abyss, expecting to get mugged by rats with daggers at any moment, but there was a different quality about Jeralt’s anxiety. He seemed as if he was steeling himself for something. 

“Yuri.” Jeralt’s voice was always attractively husky, but it was closer to hoarse now. “Doing well?”

Yuri bowed, noting the bandage on Jeralt’s temple. “Yes, sir. All healed up. And you? That hit you took looked nasty.” 

Jeralt huffed a laugh, rubbing the bandage. “I’ve taken hits from bigger monsters. Don’t worry about it. I would have come to visit earlier, but they only let me out of bed this morning.” Jeralt cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “Ah…is Byleth doing alright?”

“She’s been having nightmares, but she’s fine.”

“She is?” Jeralt looked unreasonably alarmed. “Is she waking up at night? What are you doing to help? Tea -”

“She’s been sleeping in my bed the past few nights, so I’m keeping an eye on her.” Yuri eyed Jeralt, suspicions only growing. There was something off about this conversation. “Can I help you, captain?”

“Right. Ah, right.” Jeralt shifted again and coughed. Mysteriously, he took off his cap and held it tightly. “I was hoping to drop in and say hello. See how she is.” 

Like hell he would.

“Byleth is busy doing her schoolwork.” Yuri’s voice could have frozen a flame. “You’ll have to come back later.”

“We don’t have to talk.” There was something old and weary in Jeralt. His husky voice was more of a rasp. “I just want to see her.”

Before he could restrain himself, Yuri snapped, “And why do you want to see her so badly?”

Snapping at the captain of the church knights. Fantastic. This was how you protected people - by alienating everybody else who wanted to help. That would do it. 

Jeralt did want to help. The man had been withdrawn and quiet during their rescue mission, but he had been the first to rescue Byleth’s mother’s corpse and prevent it from melting into the monster. He probably would have been the first to rescue Byleth if Yuri hadn’t gotten there first - if Yuri hadn’t used a careful vein of magic to swap positions with her. Byleth had landed safely near the entrance and Aelfric had found a nasty surprise when he turned to look down upon a girl laid out on an altar and came eye-to-eye with Yuri’s dagger. 

But that didn’t mean anything. Aelfric had helped Yuri and Byleth too, and look where that got them. Yuri didn’t know anything about Jeralt. He could have ulterior motives. He worked closely with Rhea, who was nothing but ulterior motives. The only person Yuri was certain didn’t have ulterior motives was Balthus, who was just clearly too stupid. 

Jeralt didn’t grow angry or defensive. He just looked a little sad. Yuri crossed his arms, fighting the urge to bristle. “How are you holding up, kid?”

“I wasn’t the one who was kidnapped.”

Jeralt huffed a small laugh. “It ain’t exactly easy on the onlookers, either. It’s alright if you’re not alright.”

“I’ll persevere somehow.” Yuri was quickly losing track of this conversation. Why was Jeralt asking about this? “Did Rhea tell you to check up on us?

“Rhea doesn’t know I’m here. She’s…strongly encouraged me to stay away from Abyss.” Jeralt’s mouth twisted unhappily. “She’s right. I really shouldn’t be here. I just…wanted to see her.” 

“And why is that?”

For a long, long moment, Jeralt didn’t answer. Great. He couldn’t even think of a good lie. He couldn’t even say that he wanted to make sure she wasn’t injured, or assure himself that he had gotten her out of there intact - Yuri would have even believed those bland excuses. But he had nothing to say for himself at all. How suspect. 

The door creaked open, and Yuri spun around just in time to see Byleth poking her head out of the classroom. Yuri opened his mouth, ready to reprimand her and shuffle her quickly back inside where no suspicious men resided, but he was too slow. The second Byleth saw Jeralt her eyes widened, and Yuri saw her eyes light up for the first time. 

“Jeralt!” Byleth cried. 

She dived forwards, and Jeralt automatically crouched down to accept the hug. They squeezed each other tightly - Byleth hanging on for dear life, Jeralt fighting shuddering breaths. His hand pressed on the back of her lead, warm and protective. 

So she could speak. Yuri had been wondering. Her first word of her new life was…Jeralt. That was fine. Good for her. And Jeralt.

“Hey, kid,” Jeralt rasped, throat thick. “How’ve you been?”

Byleth patted the top of his head. 

Alright, that was enough. Yuri took the white collar of Byleth’s neat little navy blue dress, pulling gently until he reeled her back away from Jeralt. The effect was somewhat like a scruffed kitten, but whatever worked. Yuri’s carefully tied puffy twin pigtails didn’t help the kitten impression. 

“Don’t run towards strange people,” Yuri scolded. “This is why you keep getting kidnapped.”

Byleth wriggled around until Yuri finally sighed and released her. Jeralt slowly rose, but Byleth ran back towards him and tugged hard at his jacket. Jeralt raised a patient eyebrow, watching Byleth carefully. 

Yuri had distantly noticed it before, but now that Byleth drew attention to the jacket it was obvious. It was a very familiar jacket. Not identical to Byleth’s old one - the giant canvas jacket that she never took off - but it was similar in fit and cut. 

“What do you need?” Jeralt asked. Byleth tugged harder at the jacket, as if she was trying to pull it off him. “Use your words, kid. You can do it.” Byleth heroically attempted to rip the jacket from Jeralt’s body. Yuri made a strangled noise, but Jeralt didn’t blink. “You have to start speaking up sometime. I bet Yuri over there wants to hear your voice too.” 

Byleth’s eyebrows ticked together, but she finally released the jacket. She stared fixedly at Jeralt, who amicably allowed himself to be stared at. Finally, she said, “Aelfric lost jacket.” 

Automatically, Yuri corrected, “Aelfric lost my jacket.”

“Aelfric lost my jacket,” Byleth parroted. She poked at Jeralt’s canvas jacket again. “I want the jacket again.”

Turned out that there was one way Byleth could be even more trouble - opening her mouth. Yuri sighed, already regretting his life. “Byleth, you’re being incredibly rude. You can’t just ask adults to -”

But Jeralt was already shucking his jacket, with no hesitation or thought, and passing it to Byleth. She brightened, clutching the thick material tightly and burying her face in it. She smelled it deeply, making Jeralt’s expression crease into something absolutely unfamiliar to Yuri, before swinging the jacket on and allowing it to swallow her up yet again. This edition went to her knees, looking far more like a baggy coat than anything else, but she beamed up at Jeralt in absolute joy anyway. She turned to Yuri, spreading her arms out and silently bragging about how great her new jacket was.

Something that should have been obvious weeks ago suddenly became extremely obvious. “You’re the one who gave her that first jacket. The one she never took off.” 

“She never took it off?” Jeralt smiled a little, but the weight on his shoulders only seemed to grow. “I gave it to her after I rescued her from her kidnappers last time. She was - ah, she just seemed cold. I assumed she had thrown it away or something.”

“You’re the one who rescued her?” Hadn’t Lady Rhea mentioned something about this? “Wait - are you the one who brought Byleth to Garreg Mach?”

“Yup. It’s why I wanted to see her again.” Jeralt patted the top of Byleth’s head, who swelled her chest in pride. “She’s picked up a habit of getting into trouble.”

That did explain it. No wonder he was invested. After so much work invested in keeping her alive, Yuri would want to check up on her too. Why couldn’t he just say that?

Byleth looked seriously up at Jeralt. “Thank you for the jacket.” 

“I knew you had manners in there somewhere.” Jeralt crouched down again, looking just above Byleth’s head. Yuri had noted weeks ago that she didn’t like eye contact, but it seemed that Jeralt knew that too. “Try not to lose that one. But if you do, come right back to me and I’ll give you another one. Alright?”

Byleth nodded. 

Jeralt sighed. He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. Byleth leaned into the touch a little. “Be more careful from now on. Your world will only grow more dangerous as you get older. You have to be ready, so train hard.” Impulsively, he took the cap off his head and placed it on her own. It fell over her eyes immediately, far too large for her, but she hurriedly pushed it upwards. “Listen to that brother of yours. His life looks hard enough already, so don’t make it any harder.” 

Byleth’s eyes widened. “Brother?”

“Brother?” Yuri squawked. “Please, Captain, Rhea hired me to supervise her. This is just an arrangement.” 

Jeralt shifted to look at him, and Yuri saw flint in his eyes for the first time. “We need to separate Byleth from her past life even further. We don’t know if Aelfric told anybody about the identity of Byleth’s mother. Connecting her to you is safest for both of you. Guess I should have asked first, but it’s a matter of her safety.” 

“This is an arrangement.”

“Then arrange a fake relationship. You need some excuse for why you’re joined at the hip. Pretend she’s some orphan you took in under your wing - it’s not even a lie.” Jeralt straightened, turning to look at Yuri for the first time. His expression was somber and serious, but he looked smaller without his jacket. “Look, kid. I admit I wasn’t happy when Rhea passed her off to you. Rhea has her own reasons for everything she does, and you’re…” 

He trailed off, clearly struggling for political correctness, before Yuri took pity on him. “An ex-whore who moonlights as Rhea’s lackey?”

“Saints, kid, that’s not what I was about to say -”

“What’s a whore?” Byleth asked loudly.

Yuri looked down at her. “Somebody who’s so good at something that they never do it for free.” Byleth nodded sagely, and Yuri looked back up at Jeralt. Jeralt didn’t seem happy, but Yuri wasn’t paid enough to entertain him. “And even if you weren’t crass enough to say it, it’s the truth. You don’t trust Rhea and I do whatever she says. Trust me, Captain, I wouldn’t be happy either. You don’t have to cozy up to me.”

“I wasn’t happy because you’re seventeen years old,” Jeralt said firmly. Yuri rolled his eyes. Not this shit again. What was with adult men always reminding him that he was in his teens? Did they get off on it or something? “I knew Rhea would put her with somebody she trusted absolutely. I just didn’t want that person to be you.” 

Of course he didn’t! Who the hell would? Yuri was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion about Jeralt’s relationship to Byleth - nobody else would have thought to rescue a corpse before an imminent battle - and no self-respecting father would want their daughter around somebody like Yuri. Byleth was pure and innocent. As innocent as a thirteen year old could ever be - wiped clean of her old life, completely noncognizant of the world around her. How often had she seen the sun since she met Yuri? She hadn’t even spoken before now. The girl had a damned imaginary friend, for heaven’s sake. Byleth was innocent in every way, and Yuri was filthy.

“Saints, kid, don’t give me that face. It’s not because of your background. It’s just obvious that you have more than enough on your plate. Don’t you have a city to govern? Evil errands to run for Rhea? I just don’t know how the hell you have time.” 

“Do you think I can’t do it?” Yuri snapped. “I have more than one skillset, you know.”

Jeralt exhaled heavily, scrubbing his face. “You are the least charitable - never mind.” He was uncharitable? Maybe he just didn’t buy stupid lies. “None of this is coming out right. What I’m trying to say is that you need whatever help you can get. Calling yourself siblings would make your life easier. But I’m hardly going to force you into it. Do whatever you want, kid. I’m not in charge of you.” Slightly quieter, he said, “I’m not in charge of either of you.” 

Yuri wanted to call Jeralt a bad father. He knew already that Jeralt was probably the best father he’d ever met. Taking up a job with somebody he clearly hated for the sake of staying near a daughter he was barely allowed to see. Who he couldn’t even claim, because some mysteriously evil people were after her and she was safest in complete anonymity. Some fathers would cheer at the opportunity to ditch their daughters, but the pain in Jeralt’s voice was real. And yet he wanted to tie her to Yuri. 

It would only contaminate her. He was already ruining her. Yuri had to stay away, he had to keep her out - if only for her own sake. To protect her from Yuri, and to protect Yuri from the world. Yuri couldn’t let anybody else inside. Too dangerous for everybody.

But refusing Jeralt’s proposal wouldn’t protect her from the world. And maybe a father was thinking about a factor that Yuri had missed completely. 

The fact that her mother was a shockingly well-preserved corpse and her father had to disown her. Rhea was somehow related to her, which was bad enough, but she couldn’t claim her either. Even Yuri had a mother. To the world, Byleth was alone. That was…

“Fine.” Yuri had lost this battle. He had probably also lost the war. Whatever. He fought for his own side anyway. “But I won’t force her to call me that. She’s not terribly attached to me.”  

It was the rational thought. Yuri had repeatedly left her alone with a freak and allowed her to get kidnapped again. It was a miracle her real family hadn’t fired Yuri the second she got kidnapped. 

But Byleth’s brow furrowed in outrage. Yuri fought the urge to startle - he had almost forgotten she was there. “I like you.”

The words stopped Yuri short. He wasn’t sure why. They weren’t strange words, were they? 

His hesitation must have been obvious, even to Byleth, because she promptly grabbed him in a giant hug. It was small, comforting, and warm. Her small body fit nicely next to his, and when he folded his arms over her he could almost envelop her. 

Jeralt just gave him a wry grin. “I guess you were too far away to hear. Remember how I was right next to you when you swapped positions with her?” Yuri nodded. “When she appeared in your place, I scooped her up and put her on my horse immediately. I think she knew what had happened. She called out your name. Damn near tried to jump from my horse and run towards you too.” 

That didn’t seem right. But she had hugged him after the fight, hadn’t she? Balthus had called it adorable. Come to think of it, Balthus had asked if Byleth was his sister too…Yuri hadn’t known what to say. He didn’t know what to say now.

Jeralt propped a hand on a hip, smiling. “You see that, Byleth? Yuri didn’t know you liked him. From now on you’ll have to speak up and tell him you like him a lot.” Byleth nodded fastidiously. “Attagirl. Hey, can you take that book from the inside pocket and pass it to your brother? It has something he might want to see.” 

Byleth eagerly separated from Yuri and completed the errand, pulling out a small book from a jacket pocket and passing it to Yuri. Yuri opened it and began flipping through it, just barely catching scraps of documents and notes that came slipping out. 

“Check the last few pages,” Jeralt said. “We found it in Aelfric’s things. Actually, that klepto student found it. Is that guy a friend of yours or something?”

“Or something,” Yuri muttered. 

Byleth stared up at Jeralt. “Is Balthus my brother too?”

“No,” Yuri said.

Jeralt shrugged. “If you want. He’s rich, so maybe you can fleece him.”

“I already tried,” Yuri said distantly, flipping through the book. Something about four crests…notes on a very familiar crest. Balthus’ pilfered paperwork had already revealed that Aelfric had targeted him for his crest. That had burned. Yuri was trying not to think about it. “He’s broke and only attracted to older women.” 

Pity, too - Yuri could have had an excellent sucker on that reel. He made his move during the ‘post-rescue a little girl drinking party!’, but Balthus just pointedly pretended he didn’t pick up on what Yuri was doing and started talking loudly about how Yuri reminded him of a hypothetical younger brother. It was frustrating. Yuri still didn’t know why Balthus had helped him. There was probably a secret motive that Yuri just hadn’t picked up on yet. Or maybe Balthus actually -

Yuri stopped short. This page was about Balthus. About the von Adalbrechts, and some sort of mysterious crest in their family legend. Right alongside a personality profile on Balthus…notes on his attendance and conduct issues…character notes…records of meetings and conversations with Balthus…lists of broken school rules…apparently psychologically unstable…

Yuri flipped a page backwards. It was on him. He caught a few paragraphs on his history before he quickly flipped forward. He didn’t want to know what Aelfric thought of his personality. Probably just called him a slut for two straight pages. Definitely marked him down as psychologically unstable.

But there were people besides Yuri and Balthus in the notebook. Right after Balthus’ incomplete profile, there was another name and short descriptor. Constance von Nuvelle. Another rich bitch noblewoman. Current student of the Fhirdiad School of Sorcery…extremely high grades for her first few years at the school before they plummeted half a year ago. Now at risk of dropping out. Extensive record of conduct issues, same as Balthus. Aelfric made note of…severe psychological instability, whatever that meant. And a certain crest…

Yuri flipped through Constance’s profile until he found another. Hapi, no last name - a commoner. Extensive hypothesizing on the power of her crest and little information about her. Current resident of a church in the middle of nowhere. Psychologically unstable.

“This explains why Aelfric was having those private meetings with Balthus,” Yuri muttered. “I guess we both have powerful crests. These two women must also have powerful crests…but why keep tabs on them specifically? Why keep tabs on all of us?”

“Aelfric talked about blood a lot,” Byleth said seriously. Yuri really shouldn’t have left him alone with her. 

“I should contact Lady Rhea about this,” Yuri said. He continued flipping through the book - going through Yuri Leclarc, Balthus von Adalbrecht, Constance von Nuvelle, and Hapi’s profiles again and again. Four strangers placed right next to each other, thrown together by fate. “She’ll definitely be interested in learning about Constance and Hapi.” 

Byleth peered over his arm, trying to take a glance at the book. Yuri let her. She could barely read. Maybe secrets would incentivize her to keep learning. “Are they important?”

“Probably not,” Yuri said. 

But even then, he had lied. Even then, he had already known. 

Call it intuition. 

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: hiiii miss me? sorry about the lack of posting but june was a batshit crazy month for me and i’ve been dealing with a bit of writer’s block. i hate this title but 🤷🏼‍♀️ @making-it-big had prompted a fic where andrei was facetiming the kids while he’s away and this is what came of that idea! hope you guys enjoy 🥰

word count: 3k

tw: none! this is just some soft family cuteness

summary: while he’s on the road, andrei never misses a facetime call with you and the kids

The one thing you never forget though, is the nightly FaceTime with Andrei when he’s on the road. Every single road game is different when it comes to the call - sometimes they’re late at night and shorter, other times he’ll have time to talk for a while before they leave for the airport. It doesn’t matter where Andrei is, he FaceTimes you and the kids every day.

Tonight, the team’s in Columbus, after flying in from Detroit earlier in the afternoon. They have the night off before their game tomorrow. You only know the schedule because you have it all written out meticulously on the giant calendar in the kitchen. You had made fun of the calendar when some of the other older and more experienced WAGs had told you about it, but now it’s your saving grace. Otherwise you’d have basically no idea where in North America your husband is unless he’s next to you.

The kids are buzzing, excited to talk to Andrei and update him on the past few days. Evie and Alina jostle for their favored positions on the couch, eventually deciding that Alina gets to be wedged against the arm and Evie gets the other 2/3 of the couch cushion. You’re not sure how that ended up being the deal, but you’re not about to get involved in the careful negotiations between sisters. Kira, the ever unbothered middle child, wanders in and out of the den, various toys and snacks coming and going with her. “Hey,” you call out to her, stopping the five-year-old in her tracks. She looks up at you with wide eyes. “That’s the last Oreo,” you point at her, raising an eyebrow and crossing your index finger over your heart, your code with the kids that you’re serious and that they better promise to listen.

Kira blinks innocently at you and chirps, “yes, mommy!” in a tone that has you getting up from your squatted position at the coffee table and moving into the kitchen to take the family-sized pack of Oreos from a lower cabinet and moving it to a cabinet above the fridge. Kira pouts at you, clutching her remaining snacks in her hands.

“Remember when your tummy hurt because you ate too much cake at D’s birthday party and you puked on Daddy’s lap?” You ask, adjusting Maks in the carrier attached to your chest. The three-month-old yawns and presses his cheek to your chest, little eyelids fluttering shut.

“Oh,” Kira pulls a face, looking just like Andrei, “I didn’t like that. Puking was gross.”

You point at her, grinning, “too many Oreos before bed will make your tummy hurt and you might puke again.”

She looks scared, her eyes opening wide, and you almost feel bad for her. But then she looks down at the two Oreos clutched in her hands and shoves them both in her mouth, spewing crumbs as she shouts, “I don’t wanna puke, Mommy!” while running back into the den and around the dining room table.

“Your sister is such a little weirdo,” you murmur affectionately to Maks. The baby burrows his face close to your chest and you check the time over the stove - 6:43 - which means he’ll be up for a feed soon enough. Hopefully he’ll be awake while Andrei’s still on the call. Turning back to the den, you start to say, “girls, let’s give Daddy —“ stopping short when none of your children are in sight. Evie and Alina are gone from the couch and Kira isn’t in the room, although you can hear her singing to herself from behind a few walls. If you had to guess, she’s doing princess twirls in front of the full length mirror in the foyer.

You shake your head and mutter, “where the hell did they all go?”

Dimitri toddles into the room, blocks clutched in his chubby little baby hands. “Mama!” He shouts, holding the blocks up. “Yook!” You grin at his little speech impediment - he can’t say his Ls yet and they all sound like Ys. “Bocks”

“That’s right, buddy, blocks! Were you building something?” You take the blocks he offers you, holding the pair of them in one hand and taking his hand in your free one, leading him over to the couch so you can hopefully get this FaceTime call started.

“Bi’ding for mama,” he says proudly and you press a kiss to the top of his head, inhaling the scent of baby shampoo.

“Mama loves your building, but how about we call Papa?” You pitch your voice higher, infusing excessive excitement into your tone. Dimitri giggles and claps his hands.

“Papa! Papa!” He chants and while he’s distracted you reach over and tap at the screen of the iPad, swiping Andrei’s contact information and bringing up the FaceTime screen. Dimitri fidgets on the couch for the entire thirty seconds it takes for Andrei to answer, but once he sees Andrei’s face fill the screen, Dimitri shouts, “Papa!” and his face splits into a huge grin.

Andrei’s face is wearing a matching grin and he shouts back, “Dimka! How’s Papa’s big boy?”

You lean against the back of the couch while Dimitri babbles to Andrei, watching as your husband’s entire face lights up while they chat. Dimitri is Andrei’s little clone, if the baby pictures Elena sends are any indication, and when their faces are side by side like this, you can totally see it. Every so often, Andrei’s gaze slips over to look at you and he smiles, winking. You return the expression, one hand resting over Maks’s back. Dimitri could chatter about anything and everything, using his limited toddler vocabulary, and you shout up the stairs for the girls, still wondering where the older two went. Maks continues to sleep soundly, even after you’ve shouted for them twice - the fifth kid really learns to sleep anywhere and under any conditions.

“Coming!” Evie shouts back and then there she and Alina are, traipsing down the stairs in too long sweaters that you recognize from Andrei’s closet. They’re holding the hems of the sweaters in their hands like they’re princesses wearing ball gowns and it’s adorable. Both girls are tall for their age - the Svechnikov genes at work - but even still the sweaters hang to their ankles when they release the knit.

“What are you two doing?” You ask, pulling Alina back by her shoulder so you can twist her long hair up into a bun on top of her head. The seven-year-old is always wandering around with her hair in her face and you hate it, always worried she’s going to fall down the stairs because she can’t see anything.

Alina struggles under your hands, trying to get away from the bun, but you’re faster than she is and tie it off quickly before she runs off to the den, throwing herself onto the couch and interrupting Dimitri so she can start telling Andrei all about her day.

You turn to Evie and she looks a little shifty, but also extremely pleased with herself while she twists her fingers in the sleeves of Andrei’s sweater. “We just wanted Dad to know, like, because he wears the bracelets me and Al and Kira made for him when he plays in other places so we know that he misses us. We wanted to wear his sweaters when he calls so he knows we miss him,” she explains in a rambling, breathless monologue that has your tearing up with the sweetness of her gesture.

“How did we get so lucky with you?” You murmur, cupping her chin and kissing the top of her head. “Sweet as iced tea.”

She beams, happy with your praise, and runs off to join her brother and sister. You can hear her interrupt Alina’s story, talking over her sister to tell Andrei that she picked the sweaters special because she’s the oldest. Kira appears from somewhere, a juice box in her hand, and you shake your head. The four kids are piled on the couch, all talking over each other and not letting Andrei get a word in edgewise. From your spot behind the couch, you have a full view of his face and the completely adoring expression on his face. He’s smiling and laughing, trying to pay attention to all four of them at once and making it look easy.

Maks fusses against your chest and you look at the time, nearly 7:30, so while the kids are distracted and with Maks still strapped to your chest, you adjust so your breast is out and Maks can eat, wincing a little when he struggles for a second before latching on. The general chaos coming from the couch starts to cool off and one by one, the kids run out of things to say, starting to peel away from the screen. Kira disappears, as is her M.O. as the middle child, and Alina wiggles to the floor to start doing somersaults.

Dimitri is flat on his back on the couch, kicking his feet in the air, dangerously close to Evie’s head while she recounts the play date she had the day before. “And Mom said we get to watch the game tomorrow at Auntie Nykki’s so we get to see Gigi and are you suuuuure we can’t get a dog?” she finishes, deploying giant puppy dog eyes.

“I’m sure,” Andrei laughs, shaking his head. “It’s not fair to Mama, to have to take care of a dog and you crazy little goblins.”

“Buuuut….” Evie winds up to start begging, but you cut in.

“Eve, we talked about this. No puppy until you’re older, now time to say goodnight to Dad and head off to bed,” you ruffle her hair a little, bracing your hand against the back of Maks’s head when you lean forward a bit.

Andrei jumps in before Evie can protest, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay zaychik? Spokoynoy nochi.”

“Spokoynoy nochi,” Evie replies, blowing kisses through the screen. Alina and Kira appear for virtual goodnight kisses too and you hoist Dimitri onto your hip and give Andrei the “one-minute” gesture while you usher the girls upstairs and get their teeth brushed and tucked into bed.

With Dimitri still clinging to you like a koala and Maks fast asleep in a milk coma, you finally return to the den and drop down onto the couch. “Hi,” you grin at Andrei. Dimitri rests his head on your thigh and runs a toy car over the cushion, clearly fading but reluctant to sleep. He’ll be out in a few minutes and you’ll transition him to his bed.

“Hi,” Andrei grins back. “Miss you.”

“Miss you too,” you card your fingers through Dimitri’s fine blond hair. “They were on something different tonight. And just so you know, both girls are sleeping in your sweaters.”

He shifts from sitting on the hotel bed to lying back against the pillows, tucking one hand behind his head and hiding the colourful braided and beaded bracelets that Evie, Alina, and Kira had made him. A soft smile makes his dimple pop. “We got lucky with them,” he says.

“We did,” you adjust Maks in the carrier, pulling aside the fabric covering the back of his head so Andrei can see him a little better. You’re getting warm having sixteen pounds of baby strapped so close to your chest. “How’s Columbus?”

“Boring,” he snorts a laugh. His smile turns a little sly. “What are you wearing?”

You laugh a little, until a new and familiar voice chimes in. “Oh fuck no,” Martin Necas yelps. “You’ve got five fucking kids, don’t tell me that you’re still chatting her up like a twenty-something idiot.”

Marty’s been your husband’s roommate on the road for years now, but you didn’t realize that he’d been around while the kids were talking to Andrei.

On-screen, Andrei smirks, a cocky expression taking over his face, “how do you think we got five kids? The stork?”

A towel flies into view from off-screen, whacking Andrei in the face while he laughs. You giggle at their antics and Neci comes into view, poking his head in front of Andrei’s phone. “Don’t let him talk to you like that, you’ve got all the power. He’s fucking whipped,” he teases, ruffling his hand through damp hair.

“Don’t worry,” you grin. “I’ve got babies attached to my hip and spit up all over my shirt. No chance he finds this attractive.”

Andrei’s expression turns hungry and he scrubs a hand over his bearded chin, the rasp of his fingers over the hair sending a shiver down your spine. “Neci, cover your ears, I want to say something adult to my wife,” Andrei teases. “It’s not for the ears of children.”

“Fuck you,” Marty whips a pillow from his bed at Andrei. It lands with a hollow noise on Andrei’s stomach and he exhales heavily. “One, I’m older than you and two, your literal children are right there. You’re gonna be disgusting in front of them?”

You smother a laugh with your hand. “Dimitri is passed out,” you say, angling the iPad down so they can see the conked out toddler spread out starfish style on the couch, toy car held loosely in one hand. “And Maks is definitely out.” You show them the infant, his little rosebud mouth gaping open and his eyelids twitching as he dreams. “So you’re good to say whatever you want.”

“No, do not encourage him,” Marty groans. “I have to share a room with him.”

Andrei tosses the pillow back, but Marty was expecting it and catches the pillow in mid-air. “You know, I’m the Captain. I don’t have to share a room,” Andrei says.

“You’d miss me too much,” Marty grins, waggling his eyebrows. “If you two are going to be disgusting, I’m leaving.”

“Good, leave,” Andrei deadpans.

You click your tongue, “be nice! What kind of leadership are you displaying?”

“Yeah, listen to your wife,” Marty teases, getting out of bed and shoving his feet into a pair of slides. “I’m telling Roddy that you’re a shitty Captain.”

He shoves at Andrei’s shoulder on his way out, waving to you. The door clicks shut behind him and you shake your head at Andrei, “you two are terrible.”

Andrei waves a hand in the air, grinning. “Neci’s dealt with worse from me on the road. I ever tell you about the food poisoning incident?”

“No,” you wince, “and I don’t want to know.” You yawn and apologize. “Sorry, baby. I’m exhausted.”

“I’m sorry I’m not there,” he replies, rubbing at his chin again. He pauses and you’re both quiet for a bit, just soaking up the other’s presence. Dimitri’s hand goes completely slack and he drops the toy car to the floor. You kick it slightly under the coffee table so you don’t step on it later. Andrei coughs a little, “it’s only been a couple days, but it feels like they’re different. Bigger.”

“The only one that really grew this week is this guy,” you pat Maks’s diapered bottom. “Gained another pound from his last checkup.”

Andrei grins. He sits up and pushes his hair off his forehead, leaning closer to the screen. “That’s my boy,” he chuckles. “How big is he now?”

“Sixteen pounds,” you laugh, shifting him against your chest. “He’s in the eightieth percentile for his age, Drei.”

“Big boy,” Andrei replies.

“Takes after his Daddy,” you blow him a kiss, yawning again. “I know it’s not even nine, but I really need to sleep for a bit before tiny Hulk wakes up for his next feeding.”

Andrei nods. “I know, I’m sorry I kept you up. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you tuck Maks back into the carrier so you can bring boy boys upstairs easier. “But you’ll be home in two days and then I’m happily passing off parenting duties to you.”

“I can’t wait, solnyshka,” Andrei says seriously, eyes twinkling at the prospect of being back home. “And once I handle parenting, I have a few things I’d like to do with you.”

You laugh, “those adult things that you kicked Marty out of the room to say?”

Andrei hums and affirmative. “I never even got to say them.” His lower lip pokes out in a pout, a childish expression in direct contrast with his beard and blown pupils.

“I’ll use my imagination,” you assure him. “I love you.”

“Love you,” he puckers his lips at you in a kiss and you tap the screen, ending the call. You skimp back against the couch for a minute, resting, before you get to your feet and lift Dimitri’s toddler dead weight into your arms to bring him up to bed. Once you’ve checked and reassured yourself that all five kids are asleep and tucked in bed, you finally crawl into your own bed and pass out for a bit before getting up to feed Maks. You’re so ready for Andrei to come home.

When he does come home, two days later, he bounds through the front door full of energy, swinging you into a kiss that makes you laugh and swooping the two closest children - Kira and Dimitri - up into his arms. They squeal with excitement that Daddy is home. The older two girls are at school and Andrei insists on being the one to pick them up, buckling Kira and Dimitri into their car seats and taking the fully loaded Navigator to the school.

He has the windows rolled down and the three of them wave at you while he backs down the driveway. Andrei at the wheel of the Navigator with all the children in tow is a much different picture than Andrei behind the wheel of his string of ugly coloured Lamborghinis.

His grin though, that full, missing-toothed, dimpled smile? That grin is the same on your thirty-six year old husband as it was on the twenty-one year old golden retriever of a boy you fell in love with.

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Achilles Come Down (Gang of Youths)

The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken/Remember the pact of our youth/Where you go, I’m going, so jump and I’m jumping/Since there is no me without you

How, the most dangerous thing is to love/How, you will heal and you'll rise above/Crowned by an overture bold and beyond/Ah, it's more courageous to overcome.

You may feel no purpose/Nor a point for existing/It's all just conjecture and gloom/And there may not be meaning/So find one and seize it/Do not waste your self on this roof

Soldier on, Achilles, Achilles, come down/Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?

"I'm sure you'll get other submissions for this one. I have no idea who this band even are outside of this song but it fucks me up like it does everyone else. It's the tragic love of it all. The desperation of trying to save your loved one from themselves. Or are the narrators of the song Achilles' own conscience representing his indecision on whether to kill himself or not? It can mean so many things and SO many parts of the lyrics are very poetic and powerful. (also again for me this makes me cry over a Specific Blorbo in this case Dimitri Blaiddyd but that doesnt matter)"

"The cellos in the background, the lyrics, telling the story of Achilles, the fact that it's fucking 7min long, it's beautiful, it breaks me to then pull me back together, it gave me hope in a moment where I wasn't in the best mental space, it's like getting undressed to your very soul only to be cover up with a weighted blanket afterwards and be told "it'll be alright." It's like that image with the guy that's like "this is cinema" but with a song, god I love this song so much"

"Ohhhg my god. It’s so. It’s a fucking heartbreaking song but it gives hope (^^see abovw lyrics. there may not be meaning so find one and seize it gets me the most). I can’t say anymore about it but yeah"

"Achilles is about to jump off the roof, his lover is trying to convince him not to. the vibe of this song itself is so unique, the violin and the segments of French reading really grip at your soul. Towards the end there are two voices seemingly arguing. One voice is Achilles’s inner monologue and the other is his lover trying to yell over it. This part is my favorite, especially if you’re envisioning your blorbo. Tbh in my darkest times I would fall asleep to the ten hour loop every night. It felt like laying on a rooftop and looking out at the stars and the street lights. I think maybe it kept me from doing things I would regret."

What Would I Do? (Falsettos)

What would I do if I had not seen you/Who would I feast my eyes on/Once I was told that good men get better with age/We're just gonna skip that stage

"So basically Whizzer is now dead due to AIDS and marvin (his lover) is speaking to his spirit. and the fact that they’ve gone through so much shit just to end in heartache but HE DOESN’T REGRET IT AT ALL. that’s how powerful love is!!! they deserved more time though!!!!!!!"

[pascaloverx]

Hit The Road

Chapter Fourteen (FINAL)

previous chapter epilogue (+18)

Summary: You are a hunter of supernatural beings who is forced to experience a new reality: being a vampire. The only thing stronger than your thirst for blood is your thirst for revenge.

Author's note: the characters mentioned here were created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec, based on the book series of the same name by author L. J. Smith. They don't belong to me. That said, this fanfic will be short. This fanfic may address scenes of violence, inappropriate language and adult content. Minors should not interact with this story. Also some information here is not in the order of the series or the same way it happened in the tv series.

Your plan didn't work out. Damn it! Stefan broke down the door amid your screams of pain and grabbed you, throwing you to the ground. Strangely, him throwing you to the ground might have hurt more than being burned in the sun. You don't remember much after that. You can imagine the Salvatores being furious because you tried to end your vampire life. You're almost certain that you're tied to a chair. You try to move your hands and feet but can't. Your eyes slowly open, revealing Damon's room, and then you realize that you are indeed trapped. Damon comes out of the bathroom half-naked, with only a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair wet. You look at him, furious. But you notice that even though you're angry, you don't want to kill him.

"What did you do to me, Salvatore?" You almost shout as you watch him dry his hair with another towel. He's ignoring you, undoubtedly. He takes off the towel from his waist, revealing his naked body, and then slowly starts to put on some clothes.

"You know, you've always been one of the smartest people I know. But trying to kill yourself while a group of people who care about you is trying to find a solution to your problem was the stupidest thing I've ever seen." Damon's tone of voice is sharp; he seems genuinely bothered by the direction this story would have taken if Stefan hadn't stopped you.

"Fuck off, darling, I wanted to die. Not because the idea of a slow and painful death makes me happy, but because dying would prevent me from hurting you." You respond rudely, still trying to get out of the chair where you're tied up. Damon smiles, watching you struggle to untie yourself.

"You won't get out of there without my help, my love. That's because humans hardly ever manage to get out of places on their own. And yes, I called you human. In fact, while you were trying to kill yourself, I was able to track down your ex-best friend Dimitri. He had a cure for vampirism with him. And let's say he was happy to hand it over to save you." Damon's tone becomes almost too dark as he speaks the last part. He definitely killed Dimitri. I can't say it terrifies me, but I think Dimitri sought Damon's wrath.

"You turned me human and killed Dimitri? Wow, it's shocking the amount of things you can do." You speak, facing Damon, almost as a challenge, even though you know you should be grateful for him stopping you from dying or killing other vampires.

"I wouldn't have killed your hunter friend if he hadn't refused to free you from that damn spell. One thing led to another. But at the end of the day, everyone got what they deserved." Damon speaks as he approaches you. He crouches down on the floor, facing you. His blue eyes seem darker, and his expression looks tired.

"We're back to square one, aren't we? You're a cruel vampire, and I'm a human. What now? I age while you remain immortal, watching me slowly die in front of you? Then when all this is over, you go back to Elena and live a vampire life with her?" As you speak, you feel like you're venting to Damon but at the same time complaining.

"We both have at least a few more years before you start worrying about age and dying. I gave you back your human life so you could enjoy it a little longer. But when you want immortality back, just like your vampire boyfriends." Damon unties you, touching your hand lightly to your cheek, wiping away the tears you were shedding without even noticing.

"Did you hear about my idea for everyone to date each other at the same time? Seems like almost dying left my mind clear." You speak, smiling softly, trying not to appear confused by the changes in your life.

"I want you to know that I made a choice too. I chose to stand by the idiotic woman who married me in a cabin because neither of us knew what we wanted." Damon kissed both of your hands gently, then gave you a peck on the lips.

"What a lovely way to make me feel bad. But I won't backtrack, I love you and your brother. Individually but significantly." You pull Damon's face closer to yours, giving him a longer kiss.

"I have to go get more blood bags from the hospital. I think you have a visitor speaking of that, see you later." Damon kisses your cheek and leaves the room almost immediately. You get up from the chair and glance around Damon's room.

"Stefan, I'm no longer a vampire, but I know you're there." You say as you lean against Damon's bed, relaxing your sore back. Being human is too painful.

"I thought it would be weird to come here, to my brother's room, to see you." Stefan says, entering the room with a smile on his face. 

"It's not strange. I guess now we all agree that we're okay with the fact that I..." You almost finish the sentence but are interrupted by a strong and sincere hug from Stefan, who crouched down in front of you.

"I hate you, you know?" Stefan says, kissing your cheek, as if he wanted to savor every detail of you. You then give him a gentle kiss on the forehead and sigh.

"Thank you for saving my life. But next time you knock me down, I'm gonna punch you." You say as you hug him gently, running your fingers through his hair. And so your life as a vampire took a pause so that your life as a human could return, alongside the Salvatore brothers. Damon made a deal with you that when you're ready to be a vampire again, he'll turn you. Obviously, Stefan thinks you're better off as a human. For now, you continue in this romantic confusion where you date Damon sometimes, Stefan other times, taking life one day at a time.

The End...

[chaoticspeedrun]

Hellooo

I was wondering if you have any tips when writing a retelling fic, like how to keep characters' personalities close to canon throughout the story and things like that?

Sorry for the long question ^ ^"/

The way I smiled, it makes me very happy to see people think I have written the character's personality right.

I love psychoanalyzing people and characters, I love watching series and considering the reason characters act a certain way and comparing situations to things that happened to them before, in short, I overanalyze characters a bit too much and I think I understand most of their reasoning for acting the way they do even if I can't always put it in words.

It's the same when writing, as an example with The little merturtle I was very worried at the beginning that because of the tone of the story I would end up writing Donnie too out of character, I wanted the reader to be able to understand that though Donnie had been infatuated by the MC very quickly, it had more to do with his desire to see the human world, the way Donnie seems to obsess over things he enjoys/likes carried on into the way he saw MC, and though it was in fact a crush at first, it wasn't love at first sight, which is part of what he narrates when he saves the MC, how he would like for them to show him the world he has been obsessing over for years.

Donnie wants to learn, to understand, Donnie wants to know how the humans modify metal, how their buildings are made, how they use their feet to dance, because he is an anthropologist at heart in this situation first, and once he understands the way humans work he can understand the things they create like an engineer.

Donnie is perfect for the role of Ariel, but I didn't want it to feel unnatural with the cheesiness of the original story, so I was always considering the way he would react to certain things.

Same with the Anastasia AU, the moment I thought about it I already knew Leo would be Dimitri, he is absolutely perfect for the role, it is a re-telling of a story even with the changes and world-building I add, but I did make sure on both that the character playing the role made sense, otherwise the story would be a mess.

The wants of Ariel and Dimitri match the ones that Donnie and Leo would have in the same situation, which makes it easier to match the tone of the story while changing it as necessary.

For Donnie, Leo ended up as a turtle to follow him as Leo had a clear picture of what was happening and how to help him, meanwhile Raph as the worried older brother was the one who spilled the beans to Splinter in hopes of protecting his brother and unaware of the consequences that could have, and Mikey is encouraging Donnie the whole way.

For Leo, unlike Dimitri, he is not accompanied by just one person, but all his brothers, and he has an extra responsibility to take care of, which is Casey, why? Because that PROMPTS Leo to leave, if it had just been the four brothers, they could have done okay in there, or could have tried to find more risky ways to leave, but Casey pushes the plot into the direction Leo takes instead, which is a con that can get them a means to live outside of the city without the possible repercussions that could have come instead, that is what he uses to convince Raph into his idea, to get Casey Jr out of the Spirit city, to give the kid a better life.

[Flashbacks of F! Leo pushing Casey JR through the time portal]

I extended myself a bit too much with this, but my point is, know your characters, understand who they are and why they do the things they do. Who around them can help them or ostracize them? Who is necessary for the plot and who isn't?

There's a reason April has not been introduced in my Anastasia fic yet~

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 5, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Sep 06, 2024

The U.S. government continues to tighten the screws against Russian malign activity. This morning the Department of Justice announced an indictment charging Dimitri Simes for violating U.S. sanctions against Russia. Simes allegedly worked for a sanctioned Russian television station and laundered the money from his work. Simes advised Donald Trump’s 2016 presidential campaign. 

A second indictment charged Simes’s wife, Anastasia, with sanctions violations and money laundering through the purchase of fine art. 

The Justice Department also issued a grand jury’s superseding indictment against six Russian computer hackers. Five were officers in Russia's military intelligence agency; one is a civilian. The six are charged with hacking into and leaking information from, as well as destroying, Ukrainian computer systems. The hackers also attacked systems in European countries that support Ukraine and in the U.S.

The State Department has offered a $10 million reward for information on the defendants’ locations or their malicious cyberactivity.

The fallout from yesterday’s revelation that six powerful right-wing media figures were on the Russian payroll continues. One of the right-wing commenters referred to in yesterday’s indictment, Tim Pool, has pushed the idea that the U.S. is in a civil war, interviewed Trump on his podcast in May, and has been fervently against American aid to Ukraine. Today, he posted: “Upon reflection I now understand that Ukraine is our Greatest ally[.] As the breadbasket of Europe and a peace loving people we cannot allow the Fascist Russians to continue their crimes against humanity[.] We must redouble our efforts and provide and additional $200b at once[.]”

By this evening, though, he was making a joke of the news that his paycheck had come from Russia.

Notably, Trump posted on his social media site a rant that tied his own 2016 campaign to yesterday’s indictments, although the indictment itself did not do so. He accused “Comrade Kamala Harris and her Department of Justice” of “resurrecting the Russia, Russia, Russia Hoax, and trying to say that Russia is trying to help me, which is absolutely FALSE.”

Vice President Harris is not in charge of the Department of Justice.

By tying yesterday’s indictments to his campaign’s involvement with Russian operatives in 2016, Trump might have been trying to suggest the story was old news, but it does highlight the parallels between Russia and right-wing operatives trying to get him reelected. Along with his colleague Donie O’Sullivan, Jake Tapper put it like this on CNN: “Today, the U.S. government is trying to peel back more layers of what officials say are massive and complex efforts underway to influence your vote in the upcoming election. One part of these alleged plots: replacing your average 2016 Russian social media bots with actual conservative Americans, right-wing influencers with a combined millions of followers, influencers promoted by Elon Musk, some visited by Republican politicians such as former president Trump.” 

Then Trump fell back on the old trope that his opponents are communists, posting on his social media platform: “We are fighting true COMMUNISM in this Country. We have to save our Elections, our System of Justice, our Constitution, and our FREEDOM, but that can only be done after we win BIG on November 5th, and proceed to, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN.” 

Economists for Goldman Sachs Group Inc. say that a Trump win in November would hurt the U.S. economy, while a Harris win—if she also gets Democratic control of the House and the Senate—would make it grow. 

Trump’s 2024 campaign is not at all about reality; it’s about a worldview. When asked at an event at the New York Economic Club “what specific piece of legislation will you advance” to make child care affordable, the 78-year-old Trump answered:

“Well I would do that. And we’re sitting down. You know I was somebody. We had Senator Marco Rubio, and my daughter Ivanka was so impactful on that issue. It’s a very important issue. But I think when you talk about the kind of numbers that I’m talking about, that because—look, child care is child care. It’s—couldn’t, you know, it’s something you have to have it—in this country you have to have it. But when you talk about those numbers compared to the kind of numbers that I’m talking about by taxing foreign nations at levels that they’re not used to—but they’ll get used to it very quickly—and it’s not going to stop them from doing business with us, but they’ll have a very substantial tax when they send product into our country. Those numbers are so much bigger than any numbers that we’re talking about, including child care, that it’s going to take care. We’re going to have—I look forward to having no deficits within a fairly short period of time, coupled with the reductions that I told you about on waste and fraud and all of the other things that are going on in our country, because I have to stay with child care. I want to stay with child care, but those numbers are small relative to the kind of economic numbers that I’m talking about, including growth, but growth also headed up by what the plan is that I just told you about. We’re going to be taking in trillions of dollars, and as much as child care is talked about as being expensive, it’s, relatively speaking, not very expensive compared to the kind of numbers we’ll be taking in. We’re going to make this into an incredible country that can afford to take care of its people, and then we’ll worry about the rest of the world. Let’s help other people, but we’re going to take care of our country first. This is about America first. It’s about Make America Great Again, we have to do it because right now we’re a failing nation, so we’ll take care of it.” 

There is no specific legislation here, or even a grasp of the specific nature of the problem of paying for child care. What there is, apparently, is an argument that high tariffs will solve all of the nation’s problems. In the New York event, Trump called again for slashing taxes on the wealthy and insisted that new, high tariffs of 20% on all imports, and as much as 60% on Chinese imports, will end federal deficits and bring trillions of dollars into the country, although he is wrong about how tariffs work. 

Trump insists that tariffs are taxes on foreign countries, but they are not. They are essentially taxes on imported products, and they are paid by consumers. Trump’s running mate, Ohio senator J.D. Vance, recently tried to claim that economists disagree about whether consumers bear the cost of tariffs, but as Michael Hiltzik explained in the Los Angeles Times yesterday, economists agree on this.

When he was in office, Trump launched a trade war in 2018 by putting tariffs of up to 25% on $50 billion worth of Chinese products. The next year he added another set of 10% tariffs on $200 billion worth of Chinese imports, and the next year he did it again, this time on an additional $112 worth of Chinese products. The nonpartisan Tax Foundation calculates that this amounted to an $80 billion tax a year on American consumers, costing the average household about $300 a year and costing the U.S. about 142,000 jobs.

There are reasons to use tariffs. They can be used to protect a new industry from cheaper foreign products until the new industry can compete, or to stop foreign countries from flooding a country with cheap products that destroy a domestic industry. When he took office, Biden kept those of Trump’s tariffs that protected certain industries.

Trump’s insistence that tariffs will solve everything is not about economics, it’s about pushing a worldview from the Gilded Age of the late nineteenth century, one embodied by the 1890 McKinley Tariff. “If you look at McKinley,” Trump told right-wing media host Mark Levin on Sunday, “he was a great president. He made the country rich.” In fact, McKinley (R-OH) pushed through the tariff named for him while he was in the House of Representatives from his position as a spokesperson for wealthy industrialists. They insisted that high tariffs were imperative to the survival of the country, that such tariffs were good for workers because they protected wages, and that anyone who disagreed was a socialist. But in an era without business regulation, industrialists actually kept wages low and used the tariffs to protect high prices that they passed on to consumers. 

In the late 1880s, the American people demanded a lower tariff, but when Republicans in Congress went to “revise” it, they made it higher. In May 1890, in a chaotic congressional session with members shouting amendments, yelling objections, and talking over each other, Republicans passed the McKinley Tariff without any Democratic votes. They cheered and clapped at their victory. “You may rejoice now,” a Democrat yelled across the aisle, “but next November you’ll mourn.” 

Democrats were right. In the November 1890 midterm elections, angry voters repudiated the Republican Party. They gave the Democrats a two-to-one majority in the House—McKinley himself lost his seat. Republicans managed to keep the Senate by four seats, but three of those seats were held by senators who had voted against the McKinley Tariff, and the fourth turned out to have been stolen.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[randomnameless]

Revisiting Yuri and Dee's support in Nopes :

It has bonkers things like :

Yes, and it's also got me thinking about how best to help those of more meager standing. Originally, I'd thought that establishing medical facilities or investing in the church were the best pathways to this cause. But after seeing the people here, I realize they are not indigents standing around with open hands awaiting salvation.

What are you talking about Dee? Medical facilities aren't anything like "salvation", it's just a place where people are healed?

Sure, some people want to participate in their life, decisions and politics so to associate them to those processes is an interesting thing... but they'd still need somewhere/someone to help/heal them, right?

And it's really where Yuri shines - and reminds us that this support can only happen in AG - because he completely corrects Dimitri, if Dimitri wants to associate commoners to decision-making, they should at first receive education :

Of course, they're already fully capable of telling you when they're hungry or if taxes are too high... But they'll need education to understand the policies and laws established by their lords and hold any kind of thoughtful opinion on them.

I love this last sentence, because man does it ring differently when you consider Yuri was the de facto guy in charge of the Abyss - where people complained in every explore section about Church/Nobles BaD - special mention to Hapi "CoS BaD they promised me they'd cure me but it has been a year since I'm here, I know I am a danger to the people living on the surface, I most likely never told them who experimented on me nor where she was nor what kind of stuff she did to me, and I haven't been cured since!"

Thoughtful opinions on policies and decisions uh?

Problem is, people aren't in the mood to learn anything when they don't know where their next meal is coming from or where they'll sleep that night.

I know some politician I love to joke about once said "morality don't feed your belly", but this is in the same vein - people can think about education/doing the "right thing" and whatnot... only when their lives aren't in immediate danger, like, say, because they're starving or on the streets.

That's where I think we have the closest "thoughts" Yuri has about the Abyss - sure it's not all roses and daisies, far from that, but it's still a place where people who have nowhere to go, well, can go, and eat.

Regardless of the Abyss...

Yuri is here to remind Dimitri that people still need to survive before receiving proper education, aka, they need "support" to be able to walk on their own legs, or decide to do what they want.

Compare this to Supreme Leader's "if the weak remain weak it's because they're too used on rely on others" and while I really dislike how Dimitri was teetering to close to that edge on his own and only reconsidered when Yuri reminded him of, uh, something that should be common sense - for a Fodlan game, I still find it very nice that this issue was adressed (and it even recontextualises the Abyss from FE16, something FE16 couldn't do bcs, Church BaD).

Now, I know Yuri can join Tru Piss and Supreme Bullshit, but is it any wonder that his paralogue is AG oriented, his supports are AG oriented (save for the ones who are always available + Marianne) and he has no interaction with members of the Empire?

Mmh...

[dimension20npcofalltime]

Round One - Bracket Twenty One [Dimension 20 NPC of All Time Sidequest Edition]

Dimitri vs Justin Fication

Propaganda under the cut (May contain major spoilers for Mentopolis)

Dimitri - He/Him

Campaign: Coffin Run

Who is he?

Dimitri is the familiar of Count Dracula and his personal messenger - he does not deliver anyone else's correspondence, and in fact directly gives it to Squing, despite knowing that Squing likes to eat letters.

Why is he the NPC of All Time?

A beautiful lil bat!! he delivers dracula’s letters!!

Justin Fication - He/Him

Campaign: Mentopolis

Who is he?

Justin Fication is a dog, and Conrad Schintz's best friend.

His name is a play on the word "Justification", as he often comes up with justifications for the other Mentopolis residents' actions.

He is one of the only non-anthropomorphic residents of Elias Hodge's mind. Another being the organ grinder Jacque Ennui’s pet monkey.

Why is he the NPC of All Time?

First of all his relationship with Conrad is extremely sweet and makes me cry every time, a boy and his best friend making it through life all alone (they are just little guys). The idea is justification being paired with conscience is really good, but also he raised a good point that justification can become good OR bad if paired with any concept. His one liners were also pretty good and his dynamic with the whole party was great. (SPOILERS AHEAD!!!) The moment where he was taken over by the Psychometer and looked at everyone and started coming up with reasons about why their life was miserable made me start weeping, but the real kicker was Conrad using his key to save him, vowing that he’ll still love his best friend even when he’s scared and angry and hurting. They make me cry so much.