#i cannot separate sylvain and ingrid

[cartoonnonsensegirl]

Okay, so I have a question regarding the paired endings in FE3H, particularly Mercedes and Annette's.

The FE wikia lists their paired ending as "keeping in touch and then working at an orphanage for the rest of their lives", while another ending card I've seen says they "kept in touch and then retired together to a house they bought"— I'm kinda paraphrasing/condensing the words here but staying true to the idea. The latter is apparently not listed in the wikia.

I know that some paired endings can change depending on the route you take, and I'm assuming that if there's two different endings for them, it probably changes with the story route. Reading through most of the paired endings for Mercedes in particular (let's leave Byleth outta this for now), I've seen that her epilogue cards that mention working at an orphanage seem to take place in Crimson Flower. This leads me to believe that maybe the "retirement" ending for her and Annette takes place in Azure Moon/Verdant Wind/*possibly* Silver Snow, while the "orphanage" ending happens in Crimson Flower/Silver Snow (maybe).

Can anyone confirm this for me?

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

People who say that Ingrid doesn't care about Sylvain and is too harsh in him: Have you all seen their B support? The reason Ingrid got out of her room after Glenn's death was Sylvain. She says she was worried about him. He also said that he was so worried about Ingrid he did not flirt with women until she got out of her room. Ingrid doesn't hate Sylvain. She just doesn't want him to get hurt or lose his life, like Glenn. She'd hate seeing him injured.

It makes it for me more bittersweet to have them fight each other, same with Sylvain and Felix and Felix and Ingrid. I'm unable to separate these three. They're so important to one another that having them fight each other just... fucking breaks my heart. The Faerghus Five (you cannot have the Faerghus Four without Dedue) are so AUGH for me.

I may not like them romantically (because I'm Sylvain's wife/JKJKJK), but their friendship is very precious and important to me.

.

[problematic-fodlan]

oh good i didn't know this blog existed and i need to get something off my chest and it's that 3h fucking sucks because it doesn't actually want to commit to half of its themes. between the gross white savior-y shit going on with dimitri and duscur, petra just being ok with her country essentially being absorbed into adrestia because the plot demands it and. fucking almyra. in general. but because it half commits to saying racism is bad and has that ingrid/dedue support and has enough characters simply say "discrimination is bad actually" then idk the fandom just kind of overlooks all the other shit the game DOES and excuses it because claude wants to end racism.

and i don't think the game having 4 routes with separate viewpoints and "well that's so much writing think of the writers" excuses that actually. this is an exceedingly political game, you either commit to your fucking themes or you make a different game. one route is a good 80 hours long and there are so many cutscenes. you're telling me they couldn't fit in actually showing how racism is a systemic problem but could fit in half the cast just saying that? or who knows, maybe it actually is in the game and i just missed some bonus monastery text in the latter half of golden wind. which like. that isn't good. that should be main story shit, not relegated to optional and probably faceless, unnamed npcs.

or, and this one is loaded, the game actually fucking loves bloodlines. it doesn't like crests, yes, but it loves families. you have all these characters with fucked siblings and abusive parents but ohh that's family you HAVE to love them. the fact miklan gets a fucking redemption arc in hopes genuinely pisses me off. why is it that miklan, who repeatedly abused and has attempted to kill sylvain (who i don't even like!!), pillages villages, and is the leader of a whole ass infamous gang of bandits is framed in more of a sympathetic light than fucking rhea? why are we handwaving the shit that he does away because he's sylvain's brother and well he's kind of loyal and surprisingly a good leader? shut the fuck up. i understand that people can change but these are effectively 2 different people now. you have the irredeemable piece of shit from houses and now the flawed and tragic, but sympathetic miklan in hopes. these two fundamentally cannot coexist and yet the game wants you to pretend they can.

it's even worse because houses tells you margrave gautier disowns him whereas hopes tells you miklan left of his own volition. you are rewriting your own canon here. i suppose one of them could be lying, but what does that say about the situation? and what do either of them even have to gain from lying?

oh god and the complete refusal to expand on count varley. he's characterized in houses as being cruel and so incredibly abusive, but Unfortunately competent. hopes just makes him comic relief. like. are you fucking with me right now? am i being played? is this an elaborate hoax? i don't know anymore. you can have him be a sniveling little coward, but to play his behavior off as a joke and just go "eh you can kill him later bernie :)" is just. why. houses already fumbles bernadetta and this just feels like they're doubling down on it.

i dunno. whatever. i don't really care if this sounds like i'm cherrypicking but this game isn't fucking well-written or even particularly intelligent. it's politically shallow and the fact people think it's well-written still baffles me to this day. it's probably because whatever headcanons people are coming up with to fill in and justify all the stupid bullshit are infinitely more interesting than whatever the game actually has to say.

anyway uhh. edelgard mention. to check the last required box of 3h discourse.

-

[ecclectricity]

       I have no 3 Hopes icons but I’ve spent two days reveling in vindication

    There have been several instances that I’ve spoken to Lyn and remarked that I think part of Felix’s vitriol toward Dimitri pre-timeskip is Houses was less out of sheer spite and more out of a need to hold Dimitri accountable - a trigger ( meant: fast, immediate, not psychologically damaging or ‘triggering’ ) reminder of what he was capable of, what Felix had seen him do, and the reminder that he needed to hold himself in check on it or everyone would know like he did. And while in no way is this a GOOD MENTALITY or thing to do, he did it because, in no small way, I think Felix was scared to see it again. And so he’d hold Dimitri accountable. And his chosen method also helped him separate not only himself from the thing he didn’t want to admit scared him, but Dimitri from the boar. That simple kind of separation, is why I think he can say he doesn’t hate Dimitri so candidly in his support chain- because he doesn’t. He hates what he’s capable of that Felix had never imagined. So he creates distance.

    That Felix hates finding himself capable of.

    But the fact that Dimitri attributes Felix as the reason he hasn’t “descended into sheer savagery” ( not an exact, but my recollection of the quote )???? UGH it means Felix has done precisely what I thought he was doing. He’s grounding him, albeit not kindly, in Dimitri. In the Dimitri that Felix wants to serve, wants to protect, wants to be around. Yet the miasma of that Dimitri doesn’t so easily wane from his mind, so he cannot allow quite the quarter he provided Dimitri when they were younger. Until now, until the admission that they are both on the same page. 

    Felix doesn’t hate Dimitri- he never has. But hate, love, and fear can have a lot of the same reactions, and who has ever known Felix to admit fear, or love, of anything? Felix is a character that revels in the unsaid, and lingers between his clipped, concise language. The irony that he is one of the most direct-spoken characters in the cast and yet you can trust his personal feelings about as far as you could throw him is one of my favorite things about him. He will speak his mind, he will tell you what he needs to tell you and what you need to hear, and he won’t mince for your feelings. But he will do it in such a way that largely shields his own feelings or desires much of the time; the brief peak behind the curtain afforded Sylvain or Dimitri, sparingly even Ingrid or others, is an exception, and his rule is to shove down and back anything he doesn’t want, distance from it, and focus on things he has authority and certainty of.

    I won’t lie, I have no idea what I wanted to accomplish and know this is incoherent, I just love Felix and his backwards way of loving the people around him. He’s mean, merciless, vocally combative, and loves and cares more fiercely than nearly anyone around him. His net is cast narrow, and he acts as an ever-flowing, ever-changing unit to supplement for the failings and shortcomings of the people he can’t live without; you can’t be that without acknowledging that those around you have shortcomings and failings, and you can’t help people who aren’t aware of their own, either. 

[mommymooze]

Flowers in Your Hair

Dimitri x reader

Coming from a coastal city of Faerghus, you are a very successful blacksmiths eldest daughter. Your parents finally give in to your nonstop requests to go to the academy. As shy as you are, they cannot believe you want to leave home and go out on your own. Somehow you feel the dream is worth it.

Classes begin and you are in the Blue Lions House being from their territory. Everyone seems to know each other, and they are all loud and boisterous. Annette and Mercedes take you under their wing and help you get settled in the new environment. Professor Byleth instructs everyone in class about the basics of combat, fighting and defense. She decides that you may have a talent in brawling, archery, and faith magic. You are certainly not very tall, most of the guys in this class tower over you, however you do have muscles.

You are terribly shy at first until you become more acquainted with the team. You tolerate Sylvain’s flirting, turning him down in the nicest way every single time. You actually make friends with Dedue working with him in the gardens. You help Annette learning faith magic by letting her work on your bruises from sparring and you also move barrels to safer locations all around the monastery so there is less for her to trip over. Baking with Mercedes is pure joy and everyone gets excited when they see the two of you headed for the kitchens. Ashe is your archery buddy and you tell each other stories while practicing. You’ve had many late night chats with Ingrid when she is frustrated about her goals of becoming a knight, encouraging her and telling her she is on the right path.

Your favorite person is Dimitri. He is a giant in your eyes. He is strong and polite and caring. Leading the Lions into battle with Dedue on one side and you on the other, the three friends are a force to be reckoned with. Even though he is the crown prince, he never acts like he is above anyone. You’ve never met a noble quite like him.

Sometimes the two of you will talk in the greenhouse while you work on the flowers and vegetables.

“Bend down a second Dimitri.” You ask him with a smile.

The tall man bends and watches as you place a blue flower just over his right ear.

You then hand him another flower, asking him to place yours for you. He blushes and as gently as he can, takes the stem of the flower to stick it over your right ear as well.

“Now we match.” You grin. “I wonder who thought of decorating people with flowers. I am glad they didn’t decide to do it with vegetables. I don’t think you’d be as cute if you had a green bean over your ear.”

Dimitri laughs. “I think you would still be cute, even if it was a carrot or a pea pod.”

“Next Garland Moon I will make you a crown of cherry tomatoes.” You snicker.

“Are you hungry? It is close to dinner and you’re talking a lot about food.” He asks.

“I’m finished here, so let’s head to the dining hall.” You reach out to grab his hand as he helps you from the ground.

You dust the dirt from your knees and head toward the door. Dimitri’s long legs carry him to the door just quickly enough that he can open it for you to pass through. Walking side by side to the dining hall your shoulder brushes with his arm and it makes him blush.

The dining hall is fairly full, but there is space at the Blue Lions table for both of you. Normally you sit on opposite sides so you can see Dimitri’s reactions to the conversations going on, today you have to sit next to him. Mercedes asks a question, and you turn to face her, your knee lightly touching his thigh and Dimitri drops his fork on his plate.

“We have flowers because we’re part of the cute club today! Want to join? I’ll go get everyone a flower.” You happily offer.

Mercedes laughs softly, “Oh, I don’t think any of us could compare to your cuteness right now.” Annette giggles in affirmation.

“You would all be adorable with flowers!” You declare loudly.

Sylvain grins, “I for one would love to see all of our lovely ladies wearing flowers.” Felix grunts in disapproval of everything Sylvain has to say as he stabs the meat on his plate.

Ashe perks up, “I remember a story I read once about how fair maidens would bestow flowers upon their braves knights before battles…” and continues to tell the story during the meal.

Everyone leaves to go their separate ways, Dimitri heads out to the lance workshop the Professor is teaching. You decide to go to the greenhouse to gather and distribute flowers to everyone in the Blue Lions. Sylvain is more than happy to let you place a flower on him and offers a kiss in return which you quickly decline. When you ask Dedue he kindly bows low so that you may gently place the flower over his ear. Annette, Mercedes and even Ingrid happily wear their flowers. You find Ashe in the library looking for the book he was talking about over dinner and he blushes as you place his flower for him. The only one left is Felix.

You head to the Knight’s Hall, however that is where Byleth is holding class. He’s not there, so you skedaddle to the training grounds. Felix is beating up on one of the knights. You ask him if he will let you place his flower. He refuses, of courswe.

“Spar with me. I win, you wear the flower.” You tease.

“Fine.” He grunts, raising his sword.

“Nope! Hand to hand!” You take your brawlers stance, knowing that he won’t refuse.

Felix tosses the sword and immediately runs at you, you bend low at the last moment grabbing his legs and throwing him over your shoulder. You wrestle with him for 30 minutes. His arms are tired and he’s sweating, but finally decides that you are indeed the winner. (You beat him the first time, so he said 2 out of 3, but when you won 3 of 3 he knew he lost.) You do a little victory shuffle and then place the flower behind his ear.

Heading to the Knights Hall the class is being dismissed. Dimitri is walking out with Dedue. You overly exaggerate a shocked look at Dimitri.

“What? Is something wrong?” Dimitri is looking left and right around him, having no idea what is going on.

“Your flower is gone! Dedue still has his!” You point out, and sure enough, his best friend is still proudly displaying his blossom.

“My apologies, I was so focused on training, I did not notice that it must have fallen.” Dimitri bows, begging your forgiveness. Dedue takes this as an opportune time to head toward his room, providing a bit of privacy to the both of you.

“You are so lucky that I have one bloom left.” You smile as your fingers beckon him to come closer and bend so you can reach. Carefully you brush some stray hairs behind his ear, then tuck the new flower behind his ear. You place a kiss next to the flower. “There, cute as a button.”

Dimitri blushes profusely as he is left speechless.

“I’m going to take a walk around for a bit. You know, enjoy the night air before the chill sets in. Want to come along?” You look at him hopefully.

“Um…Yes! Certainly! By all means!” His brain finally kicks back in and he offers an elbow. Taking his arm, you thread your hand through the crook and walk with him talking about things studied in class and other random things. You find yourselves on the bridge to the Cathedral just as the sun is setting.

“Wow. Those colors are amazing. I don’t think Ignatz could paint that many different shades of red, orange and yellow.” You sigh.

You both marvel at the colors as the sun slowly sinks into the horizon. The sun took its warmth when it left, and the chill of the night air begins to settle in. Dimitri walks you back to your room. You both hesitate at the threshold. You suddenly turn and throw your arms around him giving him a huge hug.

“That was pretty romantic for a first date!” You laugh as you quickly head in your room and close the door.

Dimitri stands and stares at the door for a moment, then turns towards his room, chuckling to himself.

[butwhatifidothis]

Yknow the Marianne ask sorta put something I've suspected into like clear focus. It feels like Cap's trying to have his cake adn eat it too wrt fate. Defying fate to be with Edelgard is great and what we're theoretically doing...except it's apparenlty fate and Sothis's will that she and Blankleth met at all, and it's fate that a lot of her friends are here, and that's why none of them are developed so like. What is it. Is it fate and good or defying fate, bc fate bad.

Like I know that's the more obvious answer, but I do still kinda wanna see if there is an actual answer that will be able to explain everything. It's just so... obviously contradictory? Like, fated lovers being good and fate being bad very clearly cannot work together. You can't fight against the concept of following fate and then follow your fate of being with this one person and no one else, unless you worked like hell to separate the fated lovers' love from fate (as in, regardless of fate, they would have fallen in love with each other)... which Cap'n doesn't. He literally has characters say that Edelgard and Byleth's love was like fate in a completely positive implication, which understandably fucks with the theme of the fic.

Breaking fate is good! Making choices is good! Until Marianne chooses to not follow her fate to join the Black Eagles, then she commits self-die. Until Ingrid chooses not to follow her fate to join the Black Eagles and chooses to become a knight of Faerghus (over what people wanted her to be, mind! People wanted her to just be a wife!), then she's an emotionless shell. Until Lysithea chooses not to follow her fate to join the Black Eagles, then she'll stay miserable for the rest of her short life that can't be fixed because apparently she can only be cured on CF (???).

Sylvain... acts damn near the same regardless of what is chosen. SS visions, he's this meanie mean mean, and in CF he's often COMPARED TO MIKLAN. SS, his smile is devious and evil, CF he's also compared to Claude - the guy who the fic almost exclusively portrays as a deviously evil person who's almost always smiling. The only real "difference" between SS!Sylvain and CF!Sylvain is that CF!Sylvain loves Ingrid... which could damn sure be the case in SS as well and we just don't know it because Sylvain is literally never focused on.

Until Leonie breaks her fate of joining the Black Eagles, then she'll always be driven by revenge and never be happy.

Until Byleth breaks her fate and stands against Edelgard, then she'll never know her humanity. But doing that - standing against Edelgard - is also her fate. Even though Sothis willed Byleth to be with Edelgard (somehow, even though she was asleep and couldn't do anything) so why would Sothis will them to be together if they were fated to have one kill the other? Is Sothis not in control of fate? That'd make a bit of sense, but like, isn't getting together with someone only because God wanted you to basically fate anyway? What's the functional difference between "We were fated to be together" and "We weren't specifically fated to be together but that's what God wanted anyway so God pushed us to be together"? It's never really explained, just assumed to be good - and that's if that's what the fic is trying to go for anyway! I can't even say that for sure!

The fic doesn't really have that much more to cover. I mean the amount of paralogues you can get on CF are limited so even if he threw all those in they can't extend the fic's length that much more, especially since Cap'n seems to be leaving out Edelgard's? I think? Seems like he is anyway. So there isn't really much time left for him to be able to explain everything. But I do wanna see what the parting words are for this part of the fic's theme lmao

[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

Blue Lions: S/O doesn’t want kids

{Hi! Someone submitted this as a request, but sent it to the wrong ask box. I keep trying to tag them yet Tumblr seems insistent that the account doesn’t exist? @angel6776 if you’re out there, this one’s for you love} 

Dimitri: 

He is slightly disappointed, yet relieved at the same time

We all know that Dimitri doesn’t bode well when dealing with fragile things. A child is such a large responsibility and this is a conversation he has feared for so long 

He won’t deny that the dream of a family hasn’t crossed his mind 

After all, there are pressures. He needs to produce an heir...but maybe this is where the Blaiddyd line should come to a close. His family has endured for so long despite their own sins. Perhaps relinquishing the crown may be what’s best for his people 

Naturally, he keeps this thought from you. He doesn’t plan to resign from his position anytime soon, but later on it may be time to choose a new line of government for Fargeus to follow 

One step at a time, things will fall into place. They always do with you by his side

Dedue: 

He is...well, he’s sad. It’s very rare Dedue shows such emotions and I won’t lie about it 

Dedue wants a family. He likes children and gets along with them well despite his intimidating appearance. Hearing that you don’t want to have any does make his heart ache 

It was only up until a short while ago that he deemed the idea impossible. His life was his highness’, but recently he began to have little dreams. Ones where there’d be a mini you in his life. Someone he could pass his traditions from home onto...

He wants to ask if you’ve thought it out completely, but knows better. This is a heavy topic and you’ve always been thorough 

He accepts the fact as it is and doesn’t push the topic for your sake. He may not get to have a child, but he does have you. That’s more than he ever bargained for in a long time 

Felix: 

He’s never been much of a family man. Not to say that he hates kids, but they’re not the easiest for him to deal with. He lacks patience and they are also very demanding 

He’s definitely the quickest to let the subject go. What’s the point when he never cared that much in the first place? 

If you wanted kids he would definitely agree, and he would try to be a good father. Though Felix is pretty certain that in the early years he’d be no good...it’s hard. Anyways, you don’t so that’s one less thing to worry about 

Now he can go adventuring and not have to think about someone hurting his kid. It’s bad enough that people already target you not that they ever succeed

You can’t miss what you never had in the first place, right? 

Ashe: 

Like Dedue, Ashe does want a family. The difference between the two is that he’s always dreamed of it 

Ashe thought for the longest time that he did not deserve happiness. He thought that his life should be used to help other people no matter the cost. There were already two lovable kids waiting for him back home, and he knew better than to ask for more 

The man does not have a greedy bone in his body...yet? The thought of having you has his (husband/wife) made his heart soar. To become a knight, marry, help his siblings, and eventually create a place to call home 

He dreamt all that up without thinking of your own feelings. He feels conflicted between your wants and these newfound dreams he’s become to internalize 

His friends showed him that does have the right to be happy and to move on from the past, but you are his happiness 

It may be greatly disheartening. He may need some time alone; yet, he can’t imagine that ‘family’ dream without you in it. He loves you, so it’ll be okay. The orphanage always can use volunteers too  

Sylvain: 

The runner-up in terms of not caring 

Does he like kids? Yeah, but they’re not a life necessity. Times are different and the Gautier legacy isn’t his biggest concern 

He’s pretty sure that he can just leave the house to Felix’s or Ingrid’s descendants. It may be a burden on them but they’ll definitely do better with it compared to how his family has

He may jokingly behave as if it bugs him, but he’ll shut up quickly if you appear to be upset

Kind of thinks that they’re overrated? Firm believer of the “if you don’t want them, then don’t have them,”  policy because they need proper love and attention. He has no doubt in his mind that he’d love them with all his heart, but doesn’t want to make you go through with it simply because he wants them. This isn’t like when he convinced you to hang a napping hammock on your shared balcony 

Ingrid: 

Well...she’s sort of grateful. She’s heard some “fun,” things about the birthing process from her mother’s midwives at a young age 

Ingrid also doesn’t want to take time off from her work for maternity leave. She’s very busy and sometimes finding time for her spouse is hard enough, so a child? It’s almost unimaginable 

She’s lived her entire life worrying about her family. They needed her to marry and in turn have children. Note the past tense in that sentence 

“needed,” thanks to her position in the war and Dimitri’s assistance, things have improved back home. That urgency is not as prominent as before

So, you don’t want kids? That’s quite alright. The population won’t risk dwindling anytime soon and a few less noble kids won’t harm anyone 

Annette: 

Annette would have liked to be a mother. She doesn’t know if she’d be good at it, but raising a child is something most people seem to do 

If Sir Jeralt was able to raise the professor into such a wonderful person while still being a mercenary, then maybe Annette wasn’t so hopeless? She could teach the little one magic, sing them silly songs, make cakes, and do lots of fun things with them 

It was fun for her to think about, but maybe it isn’t meant to be? She also wanted to work in academia which would be very demanding 

In addition to caring for her students there would also be a child under her wing. She didn’t want to risk neglecting them; so, if you want it to be only be just you guys then that’s fine 

She’s already happier than ever before. Not to mention that she can do all those things with you! Maybe her students would like to have cake? Or she can be the “cool,” auntie to her friends’ children 

Mercedes: 

Mercedes feels similar to Annette. She cares for children and has a deep protective instinct towards them. All the orphans at the church are treated like they’re her own, and because of this she is very accepting of your decision 

She simply decides to give her in place of the parents that cannot be there for the orphans. She cannot be their mother, but that doesn’t mean she cannot help raise them. This way her personal life with you will remain unaffected, and she can still make a difference 

Would it be different to have a child of her own? Certainly. However, that life is not for everyone. She loves you immensely and doesn’t want this to be an issue. All will be well 

There’s much to do in life that doesn’t revolve around the formal picture of a family. Many people out there need you just as much as she’s needed at the church. You both can easily live your separate lives while still having your relationship remain intact and achieving your individual life goals 

[omgkalyppso]

22. “Wanna see firsthand how flexible I am?” for the fe3h pair of your choosing? askjhg my mind went right to sylvain but it's up to you

Okay, okay, okay. So this got away from me. The full thing is extremely nsfw, rated E, on my ao3 and can be read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30829016

I don’t even get to the prompt with what I’m sharing here, but take the first segment:

The ballroom was full. The old and the young mingling both on the floor and at the wallward tables, with airs of celebration and whispers of truth. The event was as much a political playing field as any structured meeting or hushed agreement, but unlike the latter two, Lorenz had been invited in. His father yet controlled Gloucester, and under Dimitri’s reign it felt unwise to usurp the natural conclusion of Count Gloucester’s litigious career when already the commonfolk were mourning a war, their country, and so many of their other Great Lords.

It was a party, anyway, and it was so rare to see so many of his old friends in good company, together. He had been excited when he’d chosen his apparel, violet and navy and red. Red roses trimmed the edge of his blue jacket, with tails and train that extended to his knees, while a pattern of pale while roses decorated a pale yellow waistcoat, buckles and buttons outfitted to match, but after the attention of frolicking about had started to fade, flowers offered or given to each single young lady in a display of garish pageantry, there was little left to do but dance, with most everyone but whom he wanted.

Sylvain spun Marianne, the pair of them laughing with a joy that was long deserved and hard earned. She wore yellow, a happy sight if ever there was one, while Sylvain’s coat and pants were green and teal, with a silver vest, cravat and shirt beneath, with sleeves that flowed out at the wrists, so that he shimmered and caught the light, an alluring bauble, even for the lords and ladies who knew better.

“Lorenz.”

He gasped as he returned his attention to Hilda; his rose a lie tucked into her pink hair.

“You’re staring,” she warned, kind and sympathetic.

A smile curled his lips, bittersweet about the reality of their circumstances, but appreciative of her sentiment. He dared not search the tables for signs of his father, her family, or worse, Sylvain’s.

“My apologies. Would that I could will away all distractions, to focus upon the prettiest flower in the room.”

She grimaced, but he was relieved by the familiarity of it. Silently, he watched the dance of her earrings more closely than his own steps; silver wyverns with opalescent wings that shimmer with each graceful turn, catching the pink of her hair and dress, silently signaling her and Claude’s connection.

“I wouldn’t wish for you to be alone with me, Lorenz.” Startled, Lorenz opened his mouth to speak in his own defense, but Hilda shook her head, smiling more sincerely. “At least he’s here.”

“That is some comfort,” Lorenz confessed.

“He looks handsome tonight.”

Looking again, Lorenz caught sight of Sylvain resting a hand on Marianne’s side as they tried a few steps of more complicated footwork. He cannot hear their words over the crowd and the music, but the tenor of Sylvain’s voice is obvious as Marianne chimes gently for him to wait so they can start again, fumbling at his instruction.

“So do you,” added Hilda, pulling Lorenz’s attention back to her, and he realized he’d already forgotten what she was saying.

He recovered swiftly, smiling with a fond roll of his eyes. As the song fades, they separate to applaud the band, and then the music resumes, a slower orchestration. He reoffered his hand, plaintive.

“People will talk.”

She was teasing him, but there is truth to it.

“Better they talk about us.” He teased back, “Besides, would you really want a more ignorant suitor? Who would seem a finer match than I?”

Across the dancefloor, Ingrid yelped. Sylvain vested her in arms for a three-quarter lift that left him laughing and her humiliated as the room turned to the source of the noise. Shoving him, Ingrid is scolding her friend, setting his square glasses askew, a recent, and apparently sorely needed addition to his usual accoutrements. He has played the dashing gentleman for years, but no one is surprised to see him castigated like an unruly child. Lorenz has learned through frustration and intimacy that either truth is so much more haggard than that…

Lorenz wondered how Sylvain might dance with him, if he did, and whether he would be as vocal and competitive as they had once been, or whether it could be soft and sweet … if only for a few minutes.

With an exchanged nod, Lorenz dipped Hilda, shutting his eyes to the opposite wall of vested onlookers. Following that, he led her, step by step, to the opposite end of the hall, facing purposefully away from Sylvain.

“What are you going to do?” whispered Hilda, once they were far from the band and most of the others. There is less privacy here, and their voices are liable to be heard despite and because there are fewer dancers surrounding them. Lorenz is too heartbroken to care.

“What else to do?” he asked, melancholy. Lorenz was hushed for secrecy but not silenced as he should be, and confided the rest, “Wait out our fathers, and see what comes next.”

[sc0rpain]

Sylvix death headcanons? Any headcanons really

sdhjkhsdfkj not sylvix death ;-;

so most fics seem to follow felix joins the black eagles and felix kills sylvain. thats good and whatever but what if sylvain joins the golden deer and sylvain kills felix.

it would be at gronder field and can you imagine... sylvain holding his dead body and begging him to talk... claude and byleth having to rescue him from the kingdom forces... it would suck a lot. dimitri and ingrid also die so all his childhood friends are dead.

this can go one of two ways: either sylvain changes for the better and lives how felix would want him to, or sylvain becomes tragic and depressed. we're doing the second one cause it's more fun.

he'd probably be extremely angry with byleth for recruiting him and thereby separating them, even though no one could've predicted the consequences.

he'd probably train a lot more because felix always nagged him to get better and take things seriously. he'd be a beast on the battlefield to avenge felix, and also ingrid and dimitri. i can also see him trying to defect back to the kingdom, but byleth stopping him. he'd basically turn into some version of felix- training and being serious and whatever- while also hooking up with women to cope because thats how sylvain goes.

and then at the enbarr battle, when they meet dedue, he and sylvain would probably talk. dedue would tell him about everything that felix got up to in the months that sylvain left: stupid things, serious things, anything. dedue lost dimitri, so he'd probably understand why sylvain wanted to know.

this would bring him some peace, but he'd still be cut up. when the war ends, he manages gautier territory, but he's a dead man in his own eyes. he died when he killed felix, and now he's just a soulless corpse. after all, one cannot live without the other.

his ending card would probably look something like this:

After the war, Sylvain assumed his position as Margrave Gautier and looked after the lands that were his birthright. But the death of his closest companion, Felix, had changed him. Letters sent between his friends detailed the dull look in his eyes, the way he always faked his smiles. He'd bury himself in work and training and generally avoided company. Years later, Sreng launched another attack, and Sylvain went to head them off. However, he got more and more reckless during battle, and was fatally wounded a few weeks into the campaign. Witnesses said that he died with a smile on his face, reaching for a hand that wasn't there.

well... this went many directions. i dont even think this qualifies as a headcanon anymore, but im posting it anyway. enjoy my nonsensical brain mush being thrown onto a page.

heres a nice headcanon to cheer you up: sylvain likes playing with felixs hair, but felix also likes ruffling his. since sylvain is taller, though, he has to stand on his tiptoes to even reach. it infuriates him, but sylvain thinks its very cute.

[crackimagines]

Remember the sothis paralogue? Can you do that for the Child!Byleth AU

Child!Byleth Post Masterlist here!

(Byleth) 

“RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIIIIIIIVES!”

-----

Tales of the Red Canyon (FE: Three Houses Short Fic)

Child!Byleth Professor AU

Sothis and Byleth travel back to the Red Canyon due to some loose ends the two have with the location, and Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard, alongside their classmates, follow them...

-----

Sothis stood from her throne, pacing back and forth desperately trying to recall the name of the canyon they fought the bandits at.

Desperate to remember, she called Byleth’s name and summoned him to her throne. Although he was asleep physically, he still seemed extremely drowsy in his head.

“Ah, there you are child!”

“Ugh, what is it...?”

He rubbed his eye as she reached for her head in annoyance.

“This is frustrating me to no end! Do you recall the canyon where you first fought with the children?”

“...Zanado?”

“Ah, yes, Zanado!”

“What about it, Sothis?”

“Well, that place brought back fragments of my memory! I cannot help but wonder why. I feel we must return to find the answer there!”

“I see...Well, considering tomorrow is a freeday and it’s only a day’s trip, I suppose that’ll be fine.”

“Good! We shall leave in the morning then!”

Byleth nodded, and he disappeared from Sothis’s throne room.

The next morning, Byleth woke up early in the morning and headed out the gates, carrying the Sword of the Creator with him.

As he left, Dimitri slowly stepped from behind a pillar and watched him walk off to who knew where.

(Dimitri) “...I’m assuming you’re curious as well, Claude?”

Claude stepped out of a dark corner and stood besides Dimitri.

(Claude) “Yup. Not like the little teach just to walk off anywhere without saying something. What do you think, Edelgard?”

Edelgard walked behind them crossing her arms and furrowing her brow.

(Edelgard) “It is quite odd, indeed. I suggest we tell the others and pursue.”

(Claude) “I’ll keep an eye on Teach then. Go get the guys.”

Edelgard and Dimitri nodded, running to the dorms while Claude slowly tailed Byleth.

Much Later...

(Sothis) “It’s...all coming back to me. These structures...Oh, but it’s as if my memories are clouded. The most important places obscured...”

(Byleth) “Are you able to tell what kind of place this is, Sothis?”

(Sothis) “I...once called it home. But, I have no idea why. Perhaps it’s on the other side of this wall?”

(Byleth) “Hmph. All right then, let’s-”

GRAAAAAAGGGGHHH!

(Sothis) “Huh?! What was that awful noise?!”

(Byleth) “Beasts. From the sounds of it, it’s no ordinary one either.”

He pulled out his sword and turned around, seeing a massive creature coming from the entrance.

It was also then he heard footsteps behind him.

(Dimitri) “PROFESSOR!”

The Blue Lions, Black Eagles, and Golden Deer classes stood side by side, getting into formation with their weapons drawn.

(Byleth) “What the, what are you all doing here?!”

(Edelgard) “I’d like to ask the same, professor but I do not think we can afford much time to ask!”

(Claude) “Yeah, plenty of beasts are coming from where you entered. This oughtta be fun!”

As he saw the overwhelming odds, Byleth calmly asked Sothis inside his head, 

Sothis, you got the info we needed, right?

(Sothis) “Y-Yes!”

Good.

(Byleth) “Everyone, listen up! I have a plan.”

Everyone turned to see their tiny professor with a calm face. Awaiting their next orders, everyone nodded.

(Byleth) “Now, first things first, no one abandons each other, got that?”

(Edelgard) “Of course!”

(Dimitri) “We’re going to have to fight together, right?”

(Byleth) “No, it involves using our legs!”

Everyone looked at him funny, but the fact his face didn’t move a muscle meant that he was serious. Patiently, they waited for him to continue.

(Claude) “Whatever it involves, we’ll be right behind you teach!”

Byleth took a deep breath as he calmly stepped in front of the classes, looking over all of them as the beasts drew closer.

He activated the whip and took out a massive pillar behind him, separating the view from the monsters coming at them and when it landed, Byleth shoved everyone he could in front of him backwards.

And then, his calm face erupted into pure panic.

“EVERYONE, WE GOTTA BOOK IT! GET MOVING, DAMN IT!”

At first everyone was confused from the shoving until they heard the pillar move behind them.

Then, Bernadetta was the one to shout common sense.

(Bernadetta) “WHAT ARE WE STILL DOING HERE? R-RUN!”

(Dorothea) “I-I’m with Bernie! GET THE BUTTS MOVING PEOPLE!”

(Petra) “I AM GO!”

(Ferdinand) “B-But I can’t prove my superi-”

(Hubert) “IF YOU HAVE TIME TO SHOUT IDIOTIC THINGS, THEN YOU HAVE TIME TO RUN!”

(Caspar) “I-I WANTED EXERCISE TODAY, BUT NOT LIKE THIS!”

(Linhardt) “I DIDN’T WANT TO EXERCISE AT ALL!”

(Mercedes) “B-Byleth?!”

(Annette) “MERCIE, GO!”

(Ashe) “Oh dear...!”

(Sylvain) “Are you serious?!”

(Felix) “I came here to fight, not ru-”

(Ingrid) “GET YOUR ASSES MOVING YOU TWO OR I SWEAR I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF!”

(Dedue) “Your highness, we must make haste!”

(Hilda) “WHY DIDN’T WE JUST CALL OUT THE PROFESSOR’S NAME BEFORE WE GOT HERE?!”

(Marianne) “P-Please stop shouting and run!”

(Raphael) “IGNATZ, HOP ON! WE GOTTA GET THE HECK OUTTA HERE!”

(Ignatz) “B-But...! Ugh, I can’t run that fast anyway, LET’S GO RAPHAEL!”

(Lysithea) “This is your greatest strategy!? RUN AWAY?!”

(Lorenz) “You may question his logic, but I for one completely agree with it!”

(Leonie) “LESS TALKING, MORE RUNNING?!”

(Dimitri) “B-Byleth?! U-UH! RIGHT, EVERYONE LET’S MOVE!”

(Edelgard) “What kind of sick joke is this?! He acted all calm and that’s the answer he provides?!”

(Claude) “In hindsight, I probably should’ve seen this coming when he said use our legs instead of fighting!”

(Byleth) “QUIT PISSING AROUND AND GO!”

The House leaders jumped at his aggressiveness, but agreed. All three houses ran in complete terror as a unified whole.

(Sothis) “WHAT KIND OF PLAN IS THIS, BYLETH?!”

A GOOD PLAN, NOW SHUT UP AND MAKE SURE EVERYONE’S SAFE! WE’RE GETTING THE HELL OUT OF THIS DEATH TRAP!

(Sothis) “W-Well...! Thank you for helping me with my memori-”

YEAH YEAH, NO PROBLEM! SHUT UP AND LET ME FOCUS!

Although she was in as much terror as Byleth she couldn’t help but smile a bit. He went through all this trouble for Sothis’s sake.

She’d have to remember to thank him when everyone wasn’t screaming in horror as colossal beasts chased them.

[msbluebell]

what about a "you start war, you face consequences AU"? At the end of BE Route, Edelgard thinks have achieved her goal. But everything go wrong! First, Claude, who has survived, becomes the king of Almyra and declare war to her to the Empire . And he's VERY powerful. Also some former nobles of Alliance and Kingdom don't accept the reunification and start a rebellion with the former knights of Seiros . The peace wil not happen any soon and a lot of people die or suffer or join the rebellion 1-2

2-2. Finally, Felix has survived and becomes the feral guy and decides to avenge Dimitri (his best friend), Rodrigue (his dad) and Sylvain (his lover) by killing the black eagles one by one and nobody (even Byleth) can stop him, no matter what they do. And Byleth has not the power of Sothis anymore. They can only watch everything falling apart, while being powerless. They can only watch their friends die by Felix's hands, Claude taking back the Alliance AND the Kingdom, ect...

This is actually what would have most likely happened if the Black Eagle Route didn’t have an Deus Ex Machina ending and the Crests and God powers didn’t disappear for no reason. I have made no secret of the fact that Black Eagles is my least favorite Route (yes, I’m including Church Route in this), and the lack of actually having to reform and change the system thanks to magical convenience is one of the reasons. 

Nobles will not give up their crest fixation just because Edelgard hates crests. And without crest disappearing, it is unlikely they will take to Edelgard’s reforms. She may end up turning her own allies against her. Especially ones that don’t believe in her cause and just gave up because they didn’t want to be killed.

Also, it is a very, very, very dumb move to spare Claude in the Black Eagles Route. No matter what, he is a political opponent that proved he’s 1) very manipulative 2) very good at thinking on his feet and gathering resources. He should have died just to eliminate the potential for later rebellious uprisings, even if Byleth and Edelgard didn’t know anything about his ties to Almyra. Looking objectively at Claude’s goals and the ending of Black Eagles Route, yeah, he still has a dream of uniting Fodlan and Almyra. And unlike Fodlan, Almyra isn’t suffering from being war torn for five years. There IS a chance he’d come in take over, especially if any of his friends died in the battle. 

Point is, Black Eagles Route has a lot of potential for mess if the crests don’t vanish (which I am so fixated on. The CHURCH didn’t make the crests, so why did they disappear? I interpret Byleth’s powers disappearing because they choose to relinquish them, which is a slap in the face to Sothis btw Byleth, but why did the CRESTS disappear when the Church fell? They had nothing to do with their creation! Ugh.)

(Black Eagles, much as I dislike their Route based on their actions and lack of self-awareness, still deserved a better written ending.)

But I’m ranting. Let’s get on to the prompt with Consequences AU:

I’ve spoken in another post about how Byleth, as I interpret them, more accidentally sided with the Black Eagles than anything. It would be the same in this AU, accidentally burning their bridges when they saved Edelgard in the tomb. Then they were forced to see the path through to the end because they couldn’t go back to anyone else, and they DID disagree with Rhea and distrust the Church, so maybe Edelgard is right...?

It was foolish to hope, in hindsight.

Rhea going mad was something that they expected, but they didn’t think their own actions would be the breaking point that drove her to such insanity. And they can’t erase the image of Dimitri kneeling in the rain as an axe meets his flesh. So many of their students died...but that was just...pitiful.

Edelgard assures him that it was for a better future, that all the death and sacrifice now will mean less suffering later.

But it’s hard to look at the people suffering in the NOW and think it’s better for the future. It’s like Edelgard is so fixated on the world that will be she forgot to take care of the world they’re in, or maybe she didn’t, and the people around her just don’t seem as real to her as the people in the future she’s envisioned.

Byleth’s first clue that everything was going wrong should have been their hair and eye color returning to it’s original state.

Sothis and they...the both of them have always been one, whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing. They are a single entity that was separated and then made whole again. But now there is an emptiness inside of them, and the emotions they’ve developed are fast fading again. They’re becoming numb once again as they lose the part of themselves that was her, and they don’t understand why.

Soon, they even stop caring.

Edelgard insisted that it was a wonderful sign. That they pointed their blades towards the heavens and won, so her path must be the righteous path.

Byleth no longer cares enough to correct her.

Their students, the Black Eagles, frown more when they speak now. Byleth has lost their emotions, so the fondness is ebbing away again. They’re distressed as they lose their teacher, and Byleth tries to pretend they care until even that seems pointless.

They follow Edelgard because they know that’s what they decided to do, not because they care. They’re too muted now, and even guilt is slipping away as time erodes more and more of Sothis from their very being.

Then the murders start to happen.

It starts when Dorathea was found outside of the Opera House. Her body had been cut down by the singular strike of a sword, left to rot in the street by an unknown assassin. The Black Eagles mourn, and Edelgard swears justice will be paid. The guards are doubled in the city and the hunt is on.

It doesn’t keep Fernidand from dying later. His entire platoon was killed, a mix of sword wounds and Reason magic leaving behind a field of corpses. Witnesses say it was a pale, dark haired, man. Just one. With an unused lance tied to his back. Something about revenge, the witnesses say. For a father, a best friend, a brother, a sister, and a lover.

A year goes by and the guards get lazy again. It seems the assassin had reached their goal or died in the process.

Until Almyra declares war.

Byleth gives their advice as it is sought, but no longer cares enough to see to the personal welfare of the troops themselves. It’s...demoralizing, to say the least.

Then Berneddeta dies in her room, a knife left behind, the signal of House Gautier’s crest carved into the hilt of the blade. A warning.

There are no Gautiers left, though, they were all killed, so it can only be Felix, Byleth explains to Edelgard, because there is no one else left to avenge House Gautier, and Felix was a childhood friend of both Dimitri, who is dead, Ingrid, who died defending Dimitri, and Sylvain, who also died in that battle.

Edelgard puts a bounty on his head.

But her troops are too spread thin with Almyra’s sudden and unrelenting assault. With another war on the horizon, many nobles that don’t care for Edelgard or were taken over surrender to Almyra without hesitation. Fodlan is once again halved, and with it Edelgard’s forces.

Then Lindhardt is killed by Felix, this time with a note: “I’m coming for you Edelgard.”

Claude, it seems, is the leader of the Almyran forces, and declares quite happily that he’s going to make Fodlan a part of his country. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes when he says it though, and he’s barely holding back heavy disgust.

Byleth can’t help but think of how foolish they are when they have sentiment.

Byleth also advises Edelgard to surrender.

“Not you.” Edelgard begs, knuckles gripped against the table, “Of all people, you cannot abandon me.”

But the Byleth she wants is long gone. Or, actually, they never existed. But if if they had her dream killed them until nothing but a numb shell was left behind. Byleth, as the are, is under no illusions of what they are now. A walking corpse, with all that made them human faded into the back with a sleeping Goddess that was once themselves. 

Casper, who swore he wouldn’t let another one of his friends die, falls next. Felix, it seemed, has sided with Claude and is now leading the lands that was formally Faerghus. The people of the Alliance and Fearghus help rebel, throwing riots so large that they cannot be suppressed.

Petra is gone shortly after, taken by riots.

“FOR GOOD KING DIMITRI!” Cry out the people of Faerghus as they flood the streets of Fhiridad. Imperial soldiers are pushed back by people not even wearing armor, such is their numbers, and when actual soldiers come Faerghus is no longer a Dukedom of the Empire.

“FOR THE NOBLE CAUSE!” Cry the people of the Alliance as they’re lead by those still left of the Golden Deer. Hilda’s older brother has taken the helm and lead them to victory.

When they finally take Enbarr Byleth isn’t fighting. They don’t care, and watch from Edelgard’s side as they march her palace. They warn her to surrender, but she claims she’ll die first.

Felix walks in, and cuts down Hubert. Claude walks in behind him, hands on his hips, looking up at Edelgard and Byleth with a cold smile, “Did you get what you wanted?”

“I don’t want things.” Byleth answers, emotionless, “I haven’t since the power Sothis gave faded away, and I was left incomplete again.”

“Sounds awful, hope all this was worth that.” Claude answers as Edelgard’s eyes widen in horror.

“Perhaps if I could still feel, that would hurt.” Byleth answers him, “But I can only remember what emotions felt like, the experience is lost to me now.”

“...wow, that almost makes killing you feel like I’m being merciful.” Claude remarks as Felix glares from beside him, “Teach, why did you DO this to yourself?”

“I had meant to take Edelgard prisoner.” Byleth confesses, “I was simply run out and had nowhere else to go. Helping her seemed like the logical choice at the time, but it’s strange, I can’t see the logic in it now.”

Claude originally meant to take Byleth prisoner, if they could somehow be captured. Interrogate them and whatnot, allow their former students to air their grievances before they were executed for treachery. 

Not that just feels too cruel when Byleth was apparently already killed long ago.

So, when the final battle ends, Claude tells Felix to end Byleth.

Byleth never even lifts their sword.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Other than the Annette-Gilbert paralogue, I haven’t dragged Dimitri along on any of the side missions until I just did Marianne’s now after Grondor. Mostly because he was high enough level and didn’t need more training, while I didn’t do anything else too difficult that I would need him along.

But like, in-universe it’s because Lethe quickly learned to give up trying to hold a conversation with him, or talk to him, or ask for his help on anything that isn’t fighting the Empire. He’s not gonna want to hear it. He doesn’t care about anything else. Then, the battle at Grondor, Rodrigue dies, and Dimitri gets some sense smacked into him. 

About two weeks after that, Lethe knees a Crest scholar in the stomach and tells him to never come back to the monastery or so much as look at Marianne ever again, and when some attention is understandably drawn by the commotion, Lethe paraphrases the situation down to “There’s some sort of beast attacking people in the Edmund territory, this asshole thinks he can blame Marianne for it, who wants to come with her and me to find this thing and kill it.”

Dimitri learns about this overhearing Annette and Mercedes and Lorenz talking about how they’re absolutely more than ready to throw hands with this asshole if he shows back up trying to shittalk Marianne, and Dimitri ends up very awkwardly asking them if they will need yet another extra pair of hands on this venture. Awkward, because he hasn’t like...actually offered help, or had it asked of him, in a very long time since everyone’s been sort of acting like he doesn’t exist and avoiding him, but Mercedes is like “Yes, of course, we could always use more help. I’m sure Marianne will be very grateful!”

And off they go to Margrave Edmund’s territory and a forest where they get attacked by two demonic beasts, four giant wolves, and one beast that seems demonic enough but even moreso, having the capacity to talk, and eventually they all stumble back out and collapse on the edge of the trees, and Marianne, holding a giant fuckoff Relic sword, is tearfully apologetic that she got separated from the group and nearly died and they all got into so much trouble coming to her rescue. Lorenz is trying to reassure her that they would all do this again for her in a second, but he just ends up vomiting on the ground because getting a faceful of demonic beast poison breath does that to you, who knew. Ferdinand is dragging two sets of axe/shield because Dedue handed his weapons off to him in order to give Annette a piggy-back ride out of the woods because Annette also got a faceful of poison breath but took it much, much worse. Felix is yelling at Annette about which one of them was supposed to have the bottles of antitoxin.

“Marianne, relax,” Ingrid says, placing a hand on her shoulder. “None of us regret helping you for a second. These past few months, I’ve happily lent a hand to even much less worthwhile endeavors than stopping a beast from murdering innocent people. The battle at Lake Teutates was much worse than this.”

“Speak for yourself,” says Lorenz, who was also there at the lake and would merit it as an easier fight given that at the end of it he was not reduced to, as established, vomiting up his guts.

“Yeah, speak for yourself!” Annette says. “I - wait. I didn’t go to Lake Teutates, did I?”

“No,” Ingrid says. “You didn’t. Sylvain and Mercedes and I did. We told you about it after.”

“What - what happened at Lake Teutates?” Dimitri asks, as a sudden awareness of just how much he hasn’t been aware of smacks him in the face.

“And you may speak for yourselves all you like,” says Ferdinand, “but from what I heard about that lake, it was nothing compared to the battle in Brigid.”

Felix groans. “Don’t you dare mention that fight,” he says.

“I’m sorry, you--” Dimitri turns to Lethe. “You went to Brigid? When did you go to Brigid? How long were you in Brigid? How did I not notice that you were gone for--”

“It was a couple days there and back,” Lethe says. “I forget when? Last month? Two months ago?”

“Two, I believe,” Felix says. “You didn’t notice because you weren’t inclined to notice anything that anyone but Edelgard was doing.”

“What happened in Brigid that was such a problem?” Dimitri asks, because he cannot argue against Felix’s statement, but he really wants to know why Felix didn’t want it mentioned. Felix usually likes talking about past fights.

“Hubert nearly killed the both of us, and Caspar,” Lethe says.

“Hubert was in Brigid?” Dimitri asks. “You fought - you went to Brigid to fight the Empire? How did I not know of this?”

“Well, no, we didn’t go to Brigid to fight the Empire,” Ferdinand says. “We were taking Petra to meet with her grandfather and discuss the war. We ran into the Empire along the way. And that is when Felix lost the fight with Hubert.”

“I did not lose,” Felix snarls. “It was a draw until Petra intervened. I simply did not win, either.”

“That sounds a bit like losing,” Annette says.

“Shut up, it does not.”

“Was there a fight with the Empire at Lake Teutates as well?” Dimitri asks.

“No,” says Dedue. “It was a beast, much and not at all like this one.”

“It was guarding a Relic of Saint Indech,” Mercedes says. “A bow. Leonie has it now, if you want to see it later.” 

“We fought it to a standstill and then it agreed to give us a blessing,” Ingrid says. “I’m not sure striking it with my lance hurt it at all. It was huge - bigger than any demonic beast I’ve ever seen. It was like a small hill all on its own. Sort of like a turtle.”

“Linhardt implied to me that the beast may have been the actual Saint Indech,” Lethe says. “And then he told me to forget that he said that.”

“You know,” Ingrid says, resting her chin on her hand. “Seteth had a short conversation with it. He told it he was glad that it seemed to be...holding back? I could swear that was what he said. Perhaps he already knew of what it was - if there’s anyone who might know of some secret like that, a Saint turning into such a creature, it would be Seteth, wouldn’t it?”

“You - you won a Relic from a saint,” Dimitri says. “And you went to Brigid and fought Hubert there. You have been...busy.”

The question he is dancing around asking - is there anything else that happened that I should know about? - is obvious. Mercedes stares down at her hands, and not noticing that, not aware of her friend’s troubles that she has not yet confessed to her, Annette pipes up, “Oh, and Caspar tried to fistfight the Death Knight!”

“WHEN DID YOU ENCOUNTER THE DEATH KNIGHT?”

[fandom-meanderer]

Beauty and the... [Pt. 2]

Pairing: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd x Reader, Sylvain Jose Gautier x Reader, Felix Hugo Fraldarius x Reader

Part: (2/?) [First] [Next]

Genre: Romance, Drama

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

P.o.V.: 2nd

Word Count: 1,029 Words

Warnings: None

Further Notes: And the saga continues. Also, I’m opening a tag list if any of you are interested! Just reply to this post below and I’ll add you! Happy reading!

—

You shamelessly shove the sandwich into your mouth as you scribble down on a piece of parchment.

“You know, you can do that later,” Sylvain frowns next to you. He leans over to see what you’re writing and his jaw drops. Littered on your paper is crudely drawn Dimitris with various scribbles on top. “Hey, sugar.”

“Later, Gautier.”

“Okay,” he answers in a small voice. He holds a hand up to cover his face on your side and whispers to Felix, “what happened?”

“(Name). Quit acting childish. Whatever the boar did shouldn’t matter, just confront him about it.”

“God, he makes me so mad,” you grumble. “Ingrid, you get it, right?”

“I have to deal with both Felix and Sylvain, I respect you for handling his highness so well,” she frowns. You rip up the paper.

“Dimitri Alexander Blaiddyd, you are dead to me.”

“Oh yeah, something definitely happened,” Sylvain whistles. You stomp on his toe and he winces. In truth, it wasn’t your broken heart that made you so upset. It’s the fact that he’s doing something so unbecoming of the future king. Just thinking about the scandal it could cause made your head spin. Then guess who was going to have to stand up to quiet down the masses. Ingrid, shaking her head, slides a half of her sandwich to you. “That is your fifth sandwich,” Sylvain states. You make eye contact with him as you take a bite into the albenian sandwich. Sylvain shrugs and looks over at Felix.

“So that mission at the end of the month…” you change the subject.

“Getting rid of bandits, right?” Ingrid asks.

“I guess this shouldn’t be too bad, they are bandits,” Felix reasons.

“I don’t know… Maybe I’ll ask the professor to bench me…” you shift uncomfortably. “Felix, shut your mouth. I know they’re bandits, and I know they trespassed on holy land, but it just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“I don’t think you really have a choice,” Sylvain frowns. “Just stick by me, sugar,” he winks.

“Oh my god, stop calling me that!” You hide your face in your hands.

“Sugar? Oh, are we talking about when (Name) tried to reach the sugar on the top shelf and ended up spilling it all over herself?” Ingrid chuckles. Your face reddens even more as you sink in your seat.

“Why did you bring that up again? I was a kid!”

“Yes, you were. So I stopped calling you that when Dimitri yelled at me,” Sylvain laughs. “Then it happened again three days ago!” Sylvain hits the table.

“Give me another sandwich!”

“For someone so small you eat so much,” Sylvain clicks his tongue.

“I am a growing girl,” you happily accept another sandwich from the waiter. “I am the youngest growing girl meaning I am justified with my eating habits,” you correct yourself. You look outside and see the setting sun.

“Is it that late already?” Ingrid follows your gaze.

“I guess so, it was already late noon when we left the training grounds.” Your gaze shifts to Felix.

“I still cannot believe you beat me five rounds in a row…”

“I honestly think that you were just frustrated,” you shrug. “And that’s on you.”

“I will beat you.”

“Mmhmm, whatever helps you sleep at night, Felix.” Ingrid walks up to the counter and pays for the meal while the remaining three head out. The streets were still moderately busy by the time the group of four made it back up the steps of the monastery. Once you all went your separate ways, your mind drifted back to the events of earlier that day.

“I must have been imagining things,” you wonder aloud. “Dimitri would never… With the Professor too… They couldn’t have been kissing, that’s not a possibility. Oh no, no, no. You know him, (Name). Dimitri’s like a kid… And he’s! He’s too… Dimitri’s too…”

“Too prude?” A voice asks.

“Yeah.” You stay silent for a bit before jumping up. “Dimitri! How long have you been there?!”

“Since ‘I must have been imagining things’,” he laughs. “Can we talk? Please?”

“Whatever you have with the Prof is your business,” you raise your hands. “I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, Dima. Just, don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“Ah, that’s just it,” Dimitri rubs the back of his neck. “I wasn’t kissing the Professor at all, that’s very inappropriate actually and I’m quite surprised you thought I would do that. He was leaning down to help me with my corrections on the exam. When you opened the door is when I happened to look up.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really.”

“I suppose I just jumped to conclusions then. I’m so sorry, Dima!” you laugh. Now that you thought of it, he was right, you went through all that worry for nothing. The two of you stood at the door to your dorm. To be honest, you didn’t want him to leave yet.

“I don’t blame you, from where you stood it must have looked that way. I apologize for any misunderstandings,” Dimitri frowns. “Knowing you, it would’ve been so hard for you to see that.”

‘Oh gods, did he know?’ The worst scenario popped in your head. He had to know about your crush on him, were you that obvious? It took Felix until last week to find out. But then again, he is Felix. What if he turned you down now. How would you move on? How could you go to class every day?

“What do you mean?” is all you mustered out.

“Knowing about a relationship between student and professor of course, not that I would ever do it, but I—“

“Oh gods,” you sigh. You open your door. “I’m going to bed, goodnight, Dima.”

“Oh, um,” Dimitri looks slightly shocked,” goodnight, (Name).” You close the door for a moment. Then you open it slightly.

“Next time, you should go out with us to lunch. We miss you,” then you close the door again.

Dimitri blinked a few moments at the door, but then smiled softly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Then he walked back with a slight pep in his step.

[tsunnychan]

a change of pace: christmas miracles

ya girl feelin really hypomanic on 5 hours of sleep but typing for 12 hours straight...

but the race to get these all done before june hits and i hibernate for medical school again is r e a l (i can’t tell if i’m winning)

ao3 | part 1 | part 2

-- 

summary: two of the worst communicators, who prefer to keep their troubles hidden, finally talk it out....or fight it out.

--

Ingrid almost feels like laughing, sitting in the darkness of her room, curtains drawn, back against the door.

At first, anger boiled through her as she left the kitchen, purposely shoving past Sylvain as she raced back to her room. It is only until the door was finally shut behind her did the anger leave her.

Now, she’s completely drained, all the fight gone, replaced by a gaping cavity in her chest that she doesn’t even know how to begin to fill.

Is she really that worthless?

She hears a pair of footsteps stop outside her door and maybe she does still have a little bit of anger left. She spits out, “I have nothing to say to you, leave me alone.”

A weight settles against the other side of the door and pushes back against her. “It’s me.”

Felix’s voice surprises her, but it does nothing to resolve the tightness in her throat, when she remembers the way he looked at her across the table. Sighing, she lets her head fall to her knees, her arms pulling them in even closer. “What do you want, Felix?”

She can almost imagine the shrug as she hears him shift on the floor. “You know I’m not one for talking.”

Ingrid snorts quietly. “I do know. So why are you here?”

Felix doesn’t reply and Ingrid doesn’t press him further. They sit there against the door, the distant sounds coming from the kitchen falling between them. Then, she hears Felix grunt as he stands up, the weight at her back now gone. The loss deepens the ache in her chest, and she waits for his footsteps to inevitably walk away from her too.

Instead, she hears him say, “You’re right to be upset with him. I would be too, and I am.” He pauses and Ingrid holds her breath. Felix’s voice turns softer than she’s ever heard it when he continues. “Just give him the chance to explain.”

Then, she hears his footsteps leave with a disgruntled mutter, “whenever he stops being an idiot, that is.”

She huffs out a laugh and closes her eyes, feeling just a little bit lighter than she did before. She’s not sure how long her eyes have been closed, but she opens them again at another soft knock. “Ingrid? It’s Dimitri.”

She’s not sure she has the energy to respond. He continues anyway. “I… I know you might not want to talk, and that’s fine. We respect your need for space…” He trails off and Ingrid almost smiles at how awkward her dear friend is.

“I don’t mean to sound insensitive with my next question, but Dedue insisted that we clarify…”

Ingrid furrows her brow in confusion. What? “We wanted to bake you some extra cookies, for you to take home with you, since we cannot… celebrate like we usually do.”

Her heart simultaneously swells and deflates at the thought. Slowly getting to her feet, Ingrid cracks open the door, just enough to catch sight of her friend’s worried blue eyes. She smiles weakly. “The cinnamon sugar ones are fine.”

He nods dutifully but hesitates to leave. “Ingrid—”

“I’ll be okay, Dimitri. It’s not your fault. Just… give me a little bit more time.”

Dimitri nods again, more slowly this time. He turns to leave, but not without shooting her one last look of concern, until he hurries off to the kitchen to relay her message. Ingrid shuts the door behind her and slumps down once again, her thoughts wandering toward her family.

Her father’s condition had declined sharply with the winter season, and her brothers had messaged her that all current funds were going toward the hospital bills. They didn’t mention anything further, so Ingrid had brought it upon herself to bring it up. We don’t need to celebrate my birthday this year, she’d drafted, it’ll save a plane ticket money and then some for the medications and hospital stay.

Her brothers had hurriedly texted back, how she shouldn’t be alone on her birthday, but Ingrid knew what was best. Burying the ache, she sealed her decision. It’s okay, I’ll be with my friends for the weeks beforehand. I’ll be okay.

Moments later, her oldest brother sent her a separate message and her hands shook. It’s okay to not be okay, Ingrid. We’re here for you, don’t shut us out again, all right?

She grimaces and gets to her feet. She throws back her blankets and huffs as she slides into bed again, hoping if she falls asleep, maybe she wouldn’t feel so much.

Sylvain is exhausted, and yet somehow, restless. His leg bounces relentlessly on the barstool in the kitchen as he and Dedue wait for Dimitri to return. Felix hadn’t come back after his outburst, and honestly, Sylvain doesn’t blame him

He wouldn’t come back either, knowing what he did.

He’d tossed and turn for a week straight before he left, debating if he should tell Ingrid or not. He texted Felix immediately when he got the news, that he was getting shipped out with his father, a trial for ambassador work, he’d said, so someone would know where he went. If he didn’t come back if things went south.

He’d even texted Dimitri and Dedue, for tips on how to conduct himself, because he sure didn’t pay any attention to that in high school or college, as they so graciously reminded him every day.

His fingers had hovered over his phone, over Ingrid’s name, frozen. Unable to type out the message he knew he should’ve sent. Even if it was short. A formality.

But he still didn’t do it. The thought of her locked in her room, refusing to come out, because she lost someone she loved… He couldn’t do that to her. Maybe it would be better for her to not know he was leaving at all, then she wouldn’t even know he was gone in the first place. Wouldn’t even know to miss him.

And with that thought in his head, he was on the plane, sitting stiffly next to his father, as they crossed the border into Sreng.

He tried to keep in touch, but he knew it wasn’t enough. He didn’t have as much time, in between all of his reading and catching up with foreign relations and policies. When he finally did have free time, he knew the time difference was awful.

So, he kept his messages short.

Then, it was over. His father had successfully placed a deal with the leaders of Sreng and he would be flying back tomorrow. He barely registered the flashing cameras in his face as he walked, back tall, behind his father. He caught the rerun on TV at dinner, snapped a quick picture, and sent it to their entire group chat, relieved it was finally over. That night, he went out into the marketplace with some of his father’s bodyguards, searching for gifts, because he certainly didn’t have the time when he landed.

His eyes caught on to some cooking spices for Dedue, some history books for Ashe and Annette, embroidery for Mercedes, locally sourced cheese for Dimitri, and ornamental sheath for Felix—

A glint of green catches his eye in the stall next to where he bought Felix’s gift, and he suddenly misses home terribly. He buys it for Ingrid before he second-guesses himself and trudges back to the hotel to sleep.

Then he wakes to a pile of texts in the morning. He doesn’t remember the exact messages, but he does remember his heart dropping into his stomach when one of Ingrid’s popped in. ‘That’s where you were? I missed you.’

The food in his mouth suddenly felt like sand and he realized exactly how stupid he was. The gift for Ingrid weighed heavily in his pocket on his way home. Then after that long, stifling flight, he took a direct transfer to Fhirdiad and as soon as he stepped foot on the Blaiddyd estate, he saw her sitting in his car.

Seven months away from her, away from all of his friends… he couldn’t hold back his excitement.

And he was surprised. Surprised she let him sweep her into a bear hug and spin her around like they were kids and he would hoist her up onto his shoulders so she could pick the best apples for all of them. Surprised that she’d let him do all of that when he didn’t tell her he was leaving.

But he swallowed his guilt and resolved to come clean to her. After all the celebrations were over and there was time to breathe.

Turns out, his best friend always knows when he screws up. 

So, he’s not surprised, when Dimitri returns alone, shaking his head. His leg stops bouncing. “She said cinnamon sugar, right?”

Dimitri gives him this pitying look and he barely keeps the frown from forming on his face. “Yes, she did.”

Silence falls over them as Dedue moves to the pantry to gather the ingredients. Dimitri clears his throat. “Sylvain, you should—”

He couldn’t mask the bitterness in his voice in time when he snaps back, “I know. I’ll talk to her. Let her cool down first though, I prefer not to walk into another warzone after just getting back from one.”

He deflates immediately. Feeling guilty, he sighs and covers his face with his hands, elbows resting on the table. “Sorry. I’m just… exhausted.”

Dimitri sits down next to him, hand on his shoulder, but saying nothing else. Sylvain thinks back to Ingrid’s car and he grimaces. He hopes he’s wrong about it… but just in case. “Hey, Dedue, after the cookies… you got any recipes for birthday cake with fresh berries?”

Ingrid wakes with her joints stiff, stomach growling, and definitely not feeling any better than when she fell asleep. She never finished breakfast. She debates if it’s worth venturing into the kitchen if it meant potentially seeing Sylvain when she’s still angry, and then her stomach growls again, deciding for her. Grimacing, she climbs out of bed and makes her way to the door, stopping short when she notices a weight leaning against it from the other side.

Her chest tightens and fire burns in her again. She swings her door open and Sylvain tumbles onto his back at her feet. No smile on his face this time.

Instead, it’s blank, his mask, and Ingrid feels the fire burn hotter.

He makes no move to get up and she’s in no mood to entertain him. She turns on her heel and opts to stare out the window instead, biting out, “close the door behind you.”

Surprisingly, the door clicks shortly after and she whips around, eyes narrowing. “I didn’t mean come in.”

To his credit, Sylvain doesn’t flinch, and his face doesn’t change. It makes her angrier that she’s the only one reacting. “Why are you here?”

He stares right at her, posture betraying nothing. “You know why.”

She raises an eyebrow when he doesn’t continue. He inhales deeply and sighs, gesturing for her to sit.

She doesn’t.

Indifferent, Sylvain leans against her door and crosses his arms. “I meant to tell you.”

She scoffs, “yet, here we are.”

He snorts and agrees tiredly as his eyes slide shut. “Yet, here we are.”

Ingrid hates how calm he is. “Some apology this is. Have I cleaned up too many of your messes for you to not know how to do it properly anymore?”

His eyes snap open and she gets a glare back. Good. “Look, Ingrid. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you, and I didn’t. That was wrong of me.”

She frowns. “You’re still not going to tell me why?”

“I was going to once we were done with all of…” he waves his hand around dismissively. “All of this. Then you found out early.”

Anger strikes her to her core, settling deep into her stomach. She snaps, “I found out early? Tell me, Sylvain, how is finding out seven months, after the fact, finding out early?”

His brow furrows and his mouth flattens into a thin line. “You know that’s not what I meant—”

She doesn’t let him finish. “And why is it, that now that I’ve found out, that I’m worth telling? But not before you left? You could’ve died out there if things went wrong!”

That, apparently, touches the nerve she didn’t know she was looking for.

Sylvain pushes of the wall, his arms flying outward, voice rising. “Ingrid, I’m sorry! I didn’t want to tell you I was leaving and then on the off-chance, not come back. Knowing me and my reputation? Those chances were pretty high. So, I wasn’t going to put you through that again—”

“There you go again, making light of getting hurt! Glenn did that too and now he’s gone! I never got to say goodbye to him, Sylvain!”

He’s stunned into silence at her outburst and she feels tears leak out of the corners of her eyes. Her breathing is ragged, but she can hardly bring herself to care when all of those feelings she associated with Glenn, the ones she thought she buried, come back to haunt her. Her energy drains out of her and her knees buckle as she falls backward onto her bed. She throws an arm over her eyes and repeats herself, voice barely a whisper. “I never got to say goodbye.”

She hears Sylvain’s clothes rustle as he moves to sit on the floor, his head falling back against the door with a soft thump. More words spill from her mouth. “The day before Glenn left… the day before he died… he told me had something to tell me, but it could wait until he came back.”

Sylvain remains silent and Ingrid removes the arm over her face to look at him. His eyes are trained on the ceiling, his fingers white from clenching each other. And Ingrid gets this sudden, twisted, urge, to hurt him. To make him understand.

Her throat burns painfully as she forces more words out. “He said it could wait until he came back, and all he said was, ‘talk to you soon’, and I only replied, ’okay’. He never came back, and I never got to hear what he was going to say—”

“He was going to say, ‘I love you’.”

Ingrid whips her head to Sylvain and he’s finally looking at her, his eyes tired. Apologetic. Hurt. That dark little part of her quiets down and she whispers, “how do you know?”

His eyes don’t stray away, despite the tightening of his jaw. “He told me.”

At that, Ingrid stares at him in disbelief and he continues, “it wasn’t exactly something he was going to tell his kid brother or the other kid who’s basically like his little brother. He wanted to get it off his chest, so he told me, the other kid he basically adopted to be a brother but wouldn’t flake at the mention of girls.”

Suddenly, she feels like laughing again. And maybe she is, with the sudden look of concern that crosses Sylvain’s face. He told him. Her eyes turn sharp when they glare at him, a dry smile finding its way onto her face. “He told you.”

Sylvain is back to being mute and Ingrid can’t help the empty laugh that comes out of her as she looks away from him, more tears skewing her vision as more memories flood her mind. “Don’t you see how painful it is, Sylvain? To hear the words you want to hear, but not from the person you want to hear them from?”

He remains resolutely quiet, and she turns her head toward him once again. His shoulders are stiff and he’s staring holes into the carpet. Ingrid’s not even sure that he’s breathing. Then, softly, “I’m sorry, Ingrid.”

The tight coil in her stomach loosens, just a bit, as she tries to find her voice again. “Promise me, Sylvain.”

His eyes shift up to hers, dull and glassy, and the ache in her chest worsens, knowing she caused it. Wanted to cause it. She gulps and holds his gaze. “Promise me that you’ll take your safety seriously and that you’ll talk to me. Tell me where you’re going, especially if you don’t think you’re coming back. I want… I need to be able to say what I need to say. Including goodbyes.”

He sighs, shoulders dropping as his head knocks back against the wall again. “You have so much on your plate already, Ingrid… who am I to add more troubles?”

She sits up. “You’re my best friend, Sylvain. I want to hear these troubles from you.”

His eyes find hers, exhausted. “How do you even bear it, Ing? That weight on your shoulders.”

Ingrid slips out of bed and finds herself walking toward him, sliding down on the floor next to him. “I bear it because I have to, Sylvain.”

“You don’t have to bear it for me.”

Her fingers twist together in her lap. “I can bear it… because it means they trust me enough to share it with me. If I’m not even worth the trust…” she trails off before looking at him. “Then what am I worth?”

His face breaks in front of her. “Ingrid, that’s not what I—”

“I know, I know it’s not what you meant. It’s a bit naïve of me to think like this, but I can’t help but feel that way whenever you don’t tell me something important. Like you don’t need me anymore.”

His hand covers hers. “I’m always going to need you, Ingrid.” She looks at how much smaller her hand is in his. Had it always been like that?  “But you also have to promise me something too.”

She looks up. His eyes serious. “You have to share your troubles with me too. I know you’ve been keeping a lot of these things to yourself, because you can bear it, but Ingrid… you don’t have to bear it alone, okay? I’ve got your back. Always. Don’t shut me out.”

Tears prick her eyes again, as she feels Sylvain’s hand leave her. Then, his one of his arms settles around her shoulders, pulling her in until she’s tucked under his chin. Her breath shakes unevenly as he presses his cheek to her hair, voice low. “How’s your father?”

And Ingrid lets her tears go.

Ingrid wakes to a darkened room with a sore neck and aching back. She’s still tucked against Sylvain as he dozes lightly, head resting on top of hers, arm still slung over her shoulders. If she listens carefully, she can hear Annette, Mercedes, and Ashe in the kitchen, humming along to Christmas tunes.

She thinks she can even hear Felix teasing Annette, and Annette firing retorts right back.

“Are you awake?”

Sylvain shifts above her and she finds him blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes, yawning wide. Ingrid leans away from him as he spreads his arms out to stretch, rolling his neck. She nods in the darkness and stretches out her own limbs. “We should probably head out, see what else needs to be done for tomorrow.”

Her stomach growls again, having missed half of breakfast and lunch. She thinks she sees Sylvain smirk at her. “And see what we can salvage for dinner.”

She pushes at his shoulder, smiling herself. “Shut up. Crying burns a lot of calories.”

Ingrid moves to stand, but Sylvain catches her hand, keeping her there. She raises an eyebrow before realizing he probably couldn’t see it. “What?”

He tugs her back down and puts his hands on her shoulders, bringing his face close to hers. “You’d tell me if something was bothering you, right? Like we promised?”

A lump forms in her throat. “Yeah. Of course.”

His eyes search hers. She’s not sure what he finds, but his hands slide off her shoulder and into his pocket, pulling out a small white box. He hands it to her. Uncertainly, she takes it. “Sylvain? What is this?”

His hands withdraw from her completely, and instead, fly up to the back of his neck. “Your Christmas gift. It’s almost midnight anyway, so I figure I’d give it to you now. It’s a little too small to put underneath a tree.”

She opens the box and a small, jade tear-drop pendant winks back at her. Her throat feels oddly tight. “Sylvain—”

“I know you don’t usually wear jewelry or anything, but I was out shopping for gifts and I just… I saw it and I don’t know—the color reminded me of home. Reminded me of you.”

Her lips quirk up as her heart pounds in her chest. “Reminded you of me, but didn’t remind you to tell me where you were—?”

“I said I was sorry! I promise to tell you next time. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Ingrid laughs and leans against his shoulder. “Thank you, Sylvain. I love it.”

“Wow, our own Christmas miracle. First, you tell me you look nice, now that you love my present, and us, two of the worst communicators making up—”

 Ingrid pushes him away, laughing. She pulls him up from the floor and they make their way to the kitchens where they rest of their friends are. They all shower them with hugs and greetings, while her heart still beats a little funny with Sylvain’s gift in her pocket.

[knightsdeath]

‘ i don’t ask how you’ve been. what’s the point? you’d lie anyways. ’

INGRID’S DISAPPOINTMENT IS SOMETHING HE IS INTIMATELY FAMILIAR WITH. the heaving sigh which she gave every time he and sylvain were caught doing something remarkably brainless. the set of her mouth every time his brother ( ghost and specter and wraith ) would set off for this, that, or the other. the wrinkle of her nose when they would try and try and try to make something successfully in the kitchen and it would, doubtlessly : burn.

( ———— why is it that these memories are his own yet feel so very foreign to him? why is it that he recalls them as if watching them through the surface of a lake, distorted and marred and so very far away? why is it that he recalls DYING and then LIVING once more? )

and that look in her eyes / just the same as the first time he had shirked her and walked away and had / glimpsed it. the lowering of her brows and the set of her mouth and the light in her eyes and this is the same as that and when she speaks he finds himself almost wishing to LAUGH. a strange compulsion. a cruel compulsion.

has he become cruel?

he swallows the desire to laugh and there is something that tastes like despair that lingers, always, on the back of his tongue / and he drowns it with bitterness and the burning taste of anger and he gazes at her : imperious. impassive. ridiculous. how utterly USELESS IT IS, that she hangs onto him all the same and after all this time and with a determination that feels like sandpaper on his skin ( and a clasp around his heart ) and oh, is he being torn apart? piece by piece?

( no : he did that long ago. )

it occurs to him, disjointed and strange, that no one asks how he has been. how he is. HE HAD SCREAMED AND RAGED AND THRASHED in the aftermath of glenn’s death so wholly and devotedly that : they stopped asking. yet he cannot bring himself to care and won’t bring himself to care because such useless things as HOW HE IS has so little impact ———— so little BEARING ———— it is meaningless to himself and therefore meaningless to the many and he stares at her. and remembers when she had been one of the SPARE FEW who he had been able to look at in the eye.

hers are a deep and fathomless green and he had once counted the lashes on her right eye, laughing and laughing and laughing as she shoved him and shoved him and he tried / and failed / and it hardly mattered at all. ( ah, yet another memory that is seen through another’s eyes. )

❝ then don’t waste your breath trying to manipulate me, ❞ where did things sour? where did he sour? where is the map that tells them who and what and where? how did they get here? how did they get here?

funny, isn’t it? how even POSTMORTEM there is him residing over them / how he and they had once been so SEPARATE that they had been distinct existences ( felix and ingrid / ingrid and glenn so simple and delineated ) / how it’s now something so wholly twisted and he’s there and not and he’s dead and dead and undead, as if ———

he discards the thought. he discards her disappointment. he discards himself.

@knighbility // GRAVE SUGGESTION.