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mommymooze · 3 years ago

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Angelic Vision

Claude x Reader

Angelic Vision

“You look like an angel. Have you come to take me to heaven?“ Claude lies on the ground, the back of his hand across his brow.

“No, but when I pull that arrow out of you it’s going to hurt like hell.” You say as you put your knee on his chest and with both hands pull the arrow back out of Claude’s shoulder.

“Yeeowch!” Claude hollers.

You then pour healing magic into his shoulder, feeling the muscles weaving themselves back together. You stand up reaching out your hand for his other hand to help Claude up from the ground.

“Go easy on it. If you reinjure it, go find Marianne because I’m not going to fix it again.” You tell him before running off to the next injured party.

Hilda walks up to stand by the House Leader of the Golden Deer. “Why do the super smart ones always have to be so pissy?”

“Beats me, if they would loosen up or relax a little, they would have a lot more fun.” Claude shrugs.

Mail is delivered and there is a shipment of three boxes for you. Pretty darn heavy boxes. You carry them one at a time from the front gate to your room. Unlocking and opening your door you suddenly find you are not alone. Claude gives a look of shock at the number of books in your room. One entire wall is nothing but books.

“You do know they have a library here.” Claude quips

“It is useless for my research.” You grumble. “The books are old and out of date. They also do not have any ancient texts that may have useful yet forgotten applications.”

Claude is looking at the subjects and titles. “Hey mind if I borrow a few?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I’ll think about it. “

You’ve been hanging out with Linhardt a lot lately. He’s supposed to be helping with a project you’re working on.

“When I saw them in the library, they were getting pretty cozy.” Hilda snarkily jests.

Claude decides there is a book that he must have right now from the library. He walks in to see you back to back with a very unconscious Linhardt. You’re trying to support him with your back so he doesn’t fall over completely while you are still reading your book. You look trapped?

“Having fun?” Claude grins.

“Yeah. When Lin’s on empty he just crashes. Since Caspar isn’t here, well, I don’t want him to fall and get hurt. I can’t move him.” You groan

Claude helps you get the sleeping cleric to a couch to catch his z’s.

“Thanks. Squishy magic users don’t quite have the strength for these things.”

“I’d be happy to help you out with anything.” Claude smiles. “Call me and I’ll be there!”

You spend the afternoon gathering plants and mushrooms in the nearby woods for your studies. You’ve been working on creating antitoxins and other cures for poisons. You have several bags tied to your waist with different plants in them. Just as you’re about to reach for a particularly ugly and poisonous mushroom you hear a voice calling out your name.

“Hey! Those are really poisonous. You better watch out!”

“Oh Claude, of course I know they are poisonous. How am I supposed to make a potion to neutralize them if I don’t collect them?” You roll your eyes at him.

“Since when have you been interested in poisons?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Since Leonie took that poison arrow last battle. We didn’t have anything to counteract it and she had to suffer for over a week until the poison made it through her system.”

“You’re right. He muses. “Maybe we can work together on them sometime?”

An envelope is sealed and addressed to you. It’s the regular update from your father. Sitting down in the dining hall you groan miserably as you read.

Hilda has to know what is troubling you. “Family feud?”

“Just kill me now.” You whine.

She pats you on the shoulder. “Can’t be that bad, can it?”

“My father. I love him dearly but he meddles so much. He agreed that I could come here to further my learning. But…” You hesitate.

She looks at you, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“He told me I have to find myself a husband, preferably a noble while here. I am extremely busy with class work, spell practice, spell development, antidote, and concoction creation. I hardly have time to sleep. Oh, and don’t forget Byleth’s special projects. The guys want someone fun and outgoing like you. You’re cute and entertaining and I’m a dowdy old bookworm.”

“Awww. I am pretty awesome, that’s true.” Hilda grins. “You just need a fake boyfriend while your father is here. I bet I can find someone to help you.”

“Not Sylvain. I will kill myself.” You frown.

“I gotcha fam. Give me the deets and I will set you up.”

“Thanks Hils I owe ya.” You curtsey to her.

“Sky watch for the next month to start, hmmmm…” She ponders.

Later that evening Hilda corners Claude. “One big fat amazing opportunity has just dropped into your lap, loverboy. You better not mess this up!”

“Do tell…” Claude winks.

Tomorrow is the day your father is to arrive. You find Hilda to see if she has anything set for you. Hilda says she’s got everything under control. You’re shaking in your boots, the only thing going through your mind is that your father is going to drag you out of here kicking and screaming because you don’t have a boyfriend.

The day arrives. Standing next to the gatekeeper you watch as the carriage rolls closer and closer to the front gate. Suddenly an arm slides around your back and a familiar voice speaks, “Shouldn’t we go down and greet your father, my deer?” You look up into the sparkling emerald green eyes of Claude. Blushing terribly, you can only nod as you walk down the steps to greet your father.

Your father rushes to you with both arms open to give you a hug and spin you half way around in a circle. “My baby. It’s been so long. In these few short months I daresay you’ve grown in to a fine woman. So beautiful.” Your fathers’ cheeks are rosy and eyes are filled with love for his only daughter. “And who is this young man?” He curiously asks.

“My apologies, father.” You are gasping for breath. “This is Claude von Riegan.

Grandson to-”

Your father finishes your statement. “The Duke of the Leister Alliance!”

“And her beau.” Claude announces proudly, first bowing to your father then taking your hand and intertwines your fingers before placing a gentle kiss onto your knuckles. Your face flushes redder than a summer tomato.

Claude continues to hold your hand as he escorts the both of you to your room. The future Duke and your father are already excitedly discussing Leister business, trade and the safety of trade routes.

“I will leave you to your visit. I’ll be back in time to take you both for a grand lunch in town just across the way.” Claude smiles as he bows to your father and kisses your hand again before he leaves, his cape swishing as he turns.

You open your door to find a small table with a pitcher of ice cold water and lemons as well as two glasses and a small stack of cakes. A beautiful bouquet of daisies and roses accompanies them. Two comfortable and decorative chairs are alongside of the table. You swear you recall those chairs were in Seteth’s office not too long ago.

“Please take a seat, father.” You pour him some of the deliciously refreshing chilled water. “Tell me about your trip.” Trying to keep him focused on what has been going on at home. Every time he tries to ask about your relationship with Claude, you ask about your brothers or your aunt, anything to steer the conversation away from you. An opportune knock on the door disrupts your fathers latest attempt to discuss your relationship with the grandson of Duke Riegan.

“My apologies, we do have a reservation for lunch in town.” Claude bows deeply to the both of you. As you leave your room, Claude swiftly takes your hand. You smile nervously at him. This man is a master of deception.

Claude manages the conversation with entertaining stories of Byleth and the Golden Deer. He makes certain to include some accounts of your healing accomplishments, swearing that none of the deer would be here without your amazing abilities. You spend the entire time blushing or begging Claude to stop praising you, but he keeps going, his smile wider and wider.

At the restaurant, the waitress brings you to the table and Claude attends your chair for you. The waitress comments that it is always lovely to see you two lovebirds in here again. Does Claude have the entire town in on this? Geeez. Claude orders lunch for the both of you, as if he has done this a hundred times.

Lunch is anxious yet enjoyable. You are on the edge of your seat at all times. Claude explains how you met through the Golden Deer. You’re both supportive and loyal to the class. You found common interests in seeking cures for poisons and are very supportive of each other in battle, that you fell for his charm and good looks and that he is incredibly impressed by your intelligence and knowledge. Nothing he says is a lie, except that you two aren’t really together.

The waitress asks about dessert. Your father declines, Claude tells her the usual and your eyes get big. He squeezes your hand that he has clasped in his on the table and gives you a wink.

A small cake with two forks is placed between you. Claude quickly takes a fork and holds a piece of cake in front of your lips. You glance at him and your father. Feeding you? That’s pretty intimate. Claude smiles wider as you open slowly while he feeds you a bit of cake. You look into his eyes and tell him it is wonderful.

He cuts off another bit and takes a bite. “Delicious.” Is that an indirect kiss?

Your father is grinning at you as the cake is finished. You slightly roll your eyes with embarrassment and that fact that you can’t believe Claude is doing this.

The men argue a minute over who will pay the tab, Claude graciously thanking your father for a delightful lunch as your father foots the bill. Your father commenting that this has been the best and most entertaining lunch he has had in a long time makes you blush harder.

The conversation is quieter as everyone his happily full walking back to the monastery. Claude happily swings your hands back and forth together as you walk. Your father asks what things you will be doing soon. Claude advises they have a mission at the end of the month, and also the two of you have a date this Saturday just before sunset.

As you head back to the grounds, your father’s carriage is ready to go. Saying your goodbyes, your father gives you a long hug and whispers “Don’t let this one go, he’s a great catch.” He steps back and gives you one long admiring look.

He shakes Claude’s hand warmly, asking him to watch out for his baby girl.

“I’ll do everything in my power to protect her, sir. You can count on that.” Claude gives him one of his classic winks.

Standing at the gate, holding hands, you both wave as your father’s carriage rolls out of sight.

Claude holds his hands out to you, “A kiss for your boyfriend?” he says as he closes his eyes and puckers his lips. You laugh as you lightly slap his shoulder.

“I cannot believe you pulled this off! I thought for sure I’d be riding back with him, but you actually had him eating out of your hand!”. You laugh as you walk away. “Maybe you should see about getting into acting or the opera. I don’t think Dorothea could have pulled off a performance like that.”

You get back to your room and thankfully Seteth’s chairs are missing. The pitcher of water is still there and the flowers. You didn’t notice before, but there was a card with them.

Every day is heaven with you, my angel ~Claude.

P.S. You keep the date on Saturday at sunset.

#fe3h #fe16 #feth #fe3h x reader #fe Claude #claude von riegan

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sevarix-blogs · 3 years ago

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i wrote a silly fic because i was feeling silly

Yuri's Scheming Bet

(yes another fic about an ashen wolf placing a bet)

Rating: T Ship: Yurileth Tags: Modern au, silly, i literally named the file stupidsilly Words: 1.6k

Yuri takes advantage of a bet at a party in hopes that he'll win some good money.

Yuri sighed as he walked across the main room, regretting his decision to attend the party.

Sylvain was rumored to throw the best of them, but he found that even though he recognized many faces, he was bored.

Perhaps he had grown too old to appreciate such things. He still enjoyed socializing from time to time, but perhaps a different environment would be better. These days he preferred board game nights with friends over loud house parties. Byleth certainly appeared to feel the same.

He had agreed to go, of course--Yuri would never force his boyfriend to attend such an event--but being as introverted and shy as he was, Yuri found him on the far side of the room, sitting on a couch by himself, staring at his phone.

Perhaps it was time to leave.

As he was walking toward his boyfriend, however, he spotted two women glancing toward Byleth, talking in low voices. He slowed his pace as he walked near them, trying to hear what they were saying.

It was then that Yuri recognized them. He saw them hanging out with Sylvain from time to time. Hilda and Dorothea.

“Twenty gold. I’ll bet you Twenty gold to go talk to him,” Hilda said, with a chuckle.

Dorothea smirked. “I bet you fifty I can ask him on a date.”

Yuri realized what was going on at that moment. Their glances at Byleth sitting alone… they likely assumed he was single. Yuri held back a smile, and pulled out his phone.

Yuri: pretend like you don’t know me

He saw Byleth look up, searching for a moment before his eyes landed on Yuri. Then he glanced back at his phone.

Byleth: ok? why?

Yuri: just go along with it. act the best you can. this will be fun. we can go home afterwards

He put his phone in his pocket, then approached the women, who were still deciding on the bet.

“Eyeing the loner over there?” Yuri asked, nodding toward Byleth.

Dorothea chuckled. “He’s cute! He needs someone to talk to. Hilda thinks he’d be too shy to talk to me, though.”

Hilda nodded. “He already turned Linhardt away. Honestly, Dorothea, if you manage to ask him on a date, I’ll give you fifty gold.”

Yuri smiled. “I bet you one-hundred that I can get him to kiss me.”

Hilda laughed, and Dorothea stared at him in shock.

“That’s quite a bet,” Dorothea replied.

“How do you know he even likes guys?” Hilda asked.

Yuri looked at them smugly. “I guess that adds to the risk, doesn’t it?”

“All right then,” Hilda said. “You get him to kiss you, I’ll give you two-hundred. If you fail, you’ll need to fork over one-hundred to each of us.”

Dorothea smiled at her friend. “Oh, I like how you think.” Then she turned to Yuri. “What do you say?”

Yuri nodded. “Deal.”

“This should be good,” Dorothea said, positioning herself a little closer to where Byleth was sitting. Hilda followed, and together they pretended like they were busy chatting in order to overhear Yuri’s conversation with Byleth.

Yuri casually walked over to Byleth, then sat next to him on the couch. “Hey. What’s got you all alone over here?”

Byleth looked up from his phone, failing to meet Yuri’s eyes. So far, his acting was decent. “I… um… don’t really like crowds.”

“All alone though? At least let me keep you company.”

Byleth looked at him with confusion for a brief moment, then looked down again. “Sure.”

Yuri glanced toward the eavesdropping women, who carefully watched the situation.

“You know, I don’t blame you for sitting over here. This party is pretty boring.”

Byleth looked at him. “Yeah. I agree.”

Yuri scooted closer to him. “Whenever I get bored at parties, I find someone to make out with. Helps make things more interesting.”

Byleth tilted his head in confusion, giving him a look that begged Yuri to explain himself.

He knew Byleth was not one for public displays of affection, but in this situation… money was on the line. “You into men?”

Byleth blinked at him as though the answer was obvious. “Yes.”

“Well, if you’d like to pass the time… I’m taking volunteers.”

Byleth’s eyes widened in realization as he held back a smile. Then he carefully glanced at the groups of people around the room. “In front of everyone?” he whispered.

“Yes. I’ll explain later,” Yuri whispered in response, keeping up his flirty smile.

“Um, sure,” Byleth said at a normal volume. “I… volunteer.”

“More convincing,” Yuri whispered, before returning to the act. “Oh, do you now? Well, my evening just got--”

He was interrupted when Byleth suddenly kissed him. Perhaps his nerves got the best of him, but either way, Yuri didn’t mind. He just won money for kissing his own boyfriend.

Yuri smiled as their lips parted, but before he could glance over to the women who owed him money, Byleth kissed him again like no one was watching--like they were back at home on their own couch. In fact, Yuri started to forget about the bet entirely and focus on kissing him back.

Perhaps Byleth tried to be too convincing, or perhaps Yuri got too focused on it, because it was several minutes later when they finally separated.

Yuri smiled, attempting to wipe a smudge of lipstick off Byleth’s face. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Byleth replied quietly. “Can we go home now?”

“One moment,” he said, standing. He approached the two women, who looked at him in awe as he neared them.

“Pay up, ladies,” Yuri said.

“I was not expecting that,” Dorothea said. “How… how did you even--”

He shrugged. “Just my natural charm, I suppose.”

Hilda sighed as she handed him the bank notes. “A bet’s a bet. And you definitely won that one.”

Yuri took the money with a smile. “Thanks. I’m taking him home with me, too.”

Both of them stared at him, speechless. Yuri simply smiled and walked away, money in his pocket. Then he took Byleth’s hand and led him outside, beginning their walk home.

“Thanks for that. They thought you were single so I made a bet that I could get you to kiss me.”

Byleth smiled. “I had a feeling it was something like that. How much did you get?”

“Two-hundred!”

Byleth nodded. “I’d kiss you for free.”

Yuri laughed. “Oh, I know. But remind me never to ask you to act again.”

“I could have told you I’m bad at it,” he said with a smile.

Yuri smirked. “Not bad at kissing, though.”

Byleth’s face flushed. “I-I’m glad you think so.”

Yuri laughed again. “I’ll take you on a date tomorrow with that money I won. How’s that sound?”

Byleth smiled. “Much better than a boring party.”

#yurileth #fanfic #crackfic?#maybe idk #this is a silly fic #i apologize in advance #this came to me when i was half asleep and i thought it was funny #var's fics

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ghost-pocky · 4 years ago

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Can you share some random felileth headcanons with us? :D

Oh man, I would be happy to 💖💖

* Felix loves spicy food and Byleth doesn’t. Every time he’s asked to help her cook he tries his best but still makes it way too hot for her. He does think it’s cute watching her get flustered over it, though.

*Even though he knows she’s more than capable of handling herself, he still worries about her in battle. He always makes a point to check her position and stick near her in the event anything unexpected happens.

*After their Goddess Tower scene, Felix went back to his room and cursed himself for being so callous. Byleth was being open about potentially developing feelings for him and he let his well established crudeness get in the way of the first ~good~ thing to happen to him since Glenn’s death.

*Byleth, having an unconventional but loving relationship with Jeralt, mourns her father’s death in many ways. Regarding Felix, she wishes he were here to help him through the emotional termoil of his relationship with Rodrigue and give him a bit of that Fatherly acceptance he so desperately craves.

*Felix used to love the holidays when he was young—especially finding the perfect present for Glenn. Ever since his death, though, all that passion for the season crumpled into hatred. The festivities, merriment, it instantly eats at him. Byleth senses some subtext to his sour mood and works super hard to make sure he knows how loved he is which pulls him out of it a bit. It’s a lovely distraction from his angst, even if it’s temporary.

*Felix hates mounts—horses, wyverns, etc. He just has a real problem putting his trust in an animal, especially during combat where there are already so many factors to account for. When they travel, Byleth secretly loves watching how nervous he gets and the hilarity of him trying to hide it. He’s competent, but no matter how many times they ride to a new destination his hands always shake a bit.

*Byleth is a messy house keeper and Felix hates it. She’ll leave basically anything lying around—clothes, dishes, weapon maintenance tools, just everything scattered about without reason. He constantly picks up after her, preferring his space to be organized. This mostly stems from her being raised as a mercenary, never being in one place too long lends itself to more sporadic tendencies.

*Even though they share a similar love language, Felix still has a bit of a hard time conveying everything he’s thinking when speaking with her. Sometimes at night, he’ll just talk to her as she sleeps to get things out of his system. Occasionally, she’ll still be awake and keep her eyes closed to hear what’s on his mind, though she never brings it up, knowing he would die of embarrassment.

*Felix spent a lot of time in the woods after Glenn’s death, whole weeks sometimes, just trying to get away from his father and the burden of living in a place that now felt so empty. He still goes into the woods when he’s feeling particularly depressed or anxious as a way to comfort himself. Byleth knows this and let’s him have room to roam when he’s in that head space, though it still worries her.

*Byleth, now Archbishop, has received a lot of complaints about how many cats are around the monastery—they get into the trash, eat the food at the horse stables, distract students on their way to classes, etc. She will never get rid of them, though, because Felix secretly loves them. He stops to pet them when he thinks no one is around, frequently shares his lunch with them, and there’s one he really likes who always hangs out around the training grounds that he’ll sit with at night.

I’m always up for talking about my OTP ✨ Thanks for the question! <3

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #felix fraldarius #fe3h felix #felix hugo fraldarius #bylix #Felileth #byleth eisner #fe3h ask #asks open #my asks #fe3h headcanons #fire emblem headcanons

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mittelfrank-divas · 4 years ago

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Dance of the Black Heron chapter 3

In which Dorothea attempts to sort out how to teach Hubert to dance and words are exchanged.

AO3 link here!

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"No, no, no." Dorothea dropped the spoon that she'd been using to tap out a steady rhythm on the side of an overturned crate, letting it clatter onto the sun-bleached wood. "Are you dancing, or are you attempting to recite chapter five of our tactics textbook to Professor Byleth?"

Hubert dropped his stance to fold his arms together. Twenty-five minutes into their dance lesson, and he already felt sweaty and overly warm in his uniform. The afternoon sun beat down on them despite the mid-autumn season, making him regret his preference for black. His long hair was already starting to stick to his cheek on one side, and he was pretending not to notice this. "I do not understand the question."

Dorothea advanced on him across the small room. Well… "room" was a generous term for the location of their private lesson. Hubert had spent weeks sniffing out the more abandoned corners of Garreg Mach when they first arrived at school. The monastery grounds were a maze of ruins, both above ground and below, and many of the abandoned locations appeared to never be included on the guards' regular rounds. Of course, he had always imagined that when he utilized such hidden spaces, it would be for much more nefarious purposes than practicing for a dance competition.

The size and dimensions of this particular building were reminiscent of the knights' hall, but whatever use it had seen in centuries past was long since lost. The wood roof had long ago rotted and caved in, and no door remained in the doorframe. But the tile floor, once cleared of debris, made for a smooth enough surface to dance on without risk of tripping, despite weeds pushing up between a few of the cracks, and the brick walls offered some amount of privacy while they practiced. The open door faced away from the monastery, and the path here was overgrown enough to dissuade anyone from choosing to wander in this direction, so he could be confident that none would be nearby to witness his humiliation. In essence, they had their own private courtyard in which to stage their lessons.

Dorothea took him by the shoulders and gave him a shake, even though she had to reach up to do so. "You're too stiff! You look like a waiter in one of those fancy Enbarr restaurants where they fold the napkins to look like doves."

Strictly speaking, Hubert had hardly visited any restaurant, in Enbarr or anywhere else. Restaurants existed for those who were socializing or traveling, or who did not already dine in the actual Adrestian Palace, served by the royal family's own chefs. But he had a vague impression of what she was describing. "And I am to understand that that is a bad thing."

Dorothea's hands flew to her head in a dramatic fashion. "Yes! The point of dancing is movement! You cannot move and be rigid as stone at the same time. The scowling doesn't help, either."

Hubert felt himself flush. "I was merely concentrating."

Dorothea pursed her lips sympathetically, but her voice retained some of its impatient edge. "Concentration is important, but you'll need to learn not to let that show on your face. The judges want to see a smile. Can you do that, Hubie? Do you know how to smile?"

With some effort, Hubert conjured the most pleasant smile his face could allow.

Dorothea visibly recoiled, her hands leaving Hubert's shoulders so she could step back. "Never mind. You look like you intend to flay me alive. Don't smile like that at the judges, alright?"

Hubert tried to ignore the sting that her comment induced. "I was not intending to be sinister." Not at this exact moment, anyway.

"I've never met someone who could be threatening by accident, but somehow you manage it." Dorothea threw herself back onto her seat and took up her spoon again. "Fine! Let's start from the top!" With that, she began drumming out a beat for him. With a groan, he went back to it.

It surprised Hubert how quickly the dance came back to him. He had not even thought about waltzing for years, let alone put it into practice. His feet still remembered the steps, his shoulders still remembered how to set themselves as though preparing to cradle another in his arms. The basic mechanics of it were really quite straightforward.

And yet he could feel Dorothea's eyes on him, evaluating his every movement. The steady drumming of her spoon on the crate provided a simple enough beat for him to keep time to, but it was a grating sound, one that reminded him with every strike that he was not simply one dancer among a crowd. He was alone on an empty floor, foolishly dancing along to cutlery. Could the entire school hear the noise? Would a face appear in that open doorway any moment? He felt horribly foolish and woefully exposed.

"Augh, just stop!" Dorothea suddenly snapped, the spoon slamming down on the crate. "Honestly, could you look any more miserable? You act like you don't even want to be here."

Hubert bent over to catch his breath, hands on his thighs. There was a reason that he devoted most of his energy toward magic, something that allowed him to stand perfectly still while still fighting with deadly force. "This may come as some shock, but no part of this experience delights me. I am here for my duty, nothing else."

"Really? You think I love being here, pretending to be happy about you getting chosen over me?" Something in Dorothea's voice broke. Hubert tilted his head up to look at her through the sweaty bangs hanging in his face, and realized that she was on her feet, hands clenched at her sides.

He stood upright, hands still clutching at the stitch in his side. Hellfire, was he out of shape. "Is that what you think this situation is?"

Dorothea snorted. "At least have the decency to be honest with me. You and Edie just couldn't have your class represented by a commoner, could you?"

Hubert would have laughed, if he had the breath for it. Instead he merely stared at her in confusion. "Where in Cichol's cursed name did you get that idea?"

"Come on, Hubie. We both know I'm the best dancer in our class. And you come to me with the flimsiest of excuses for why I wasn't chosen? That you need me to concentrate on learning magic? Dancing is a magic class! There is no reason I couldn't do both." Furious tears were pooling in her eyes, threatening to spill. "I'm not an idiot, Hubie. I know there are plenty of people who think I don't deserve to be here. And maybe that would be enough to sully our house's reputation, having someone like me represent us. I just thought you and Edie were above that sort of thing."

Hubert tried to work out where exactly this situation had gone horribly wrong and saw that he'd mishandled it from the start. He should have seen how this would look to her. He straightened his jacket and laced his hands behind his back, feeling that he owed her at least some proper manners. "On the contrary, the thought of watching you outmatch those pitiful nobles and inflict upon them the shame of failure that they have too rarely encountered in their wretched lives fills me with a joy that I rarely know. Yes, you are in every sense the ideal candidate for this competition, and the Black Eagles would be proud to have you represent us. Not despite your origins. Your unique experience is exactly what makes you so adept at what you do. You know what it is to hone your skill for professional use, not as some parlor trick. It was not I who argued against your candidacy, nor was it Lady Edelgard. It was the professor's preference."

Dorothea processed this quietly, her green eyes fixed on something behind him, her arms crossed defensively. "I really thought they believed in me more than that."

"They do," Hubert said flatly, not wishing to obscure the message with what might seem to be insincere reassurance. "Enough to ensure that you do not deviate from your aspirations. Dorothea, why exactly did you come to the officer's academy? Gaining admission while working full time as a Songstress could not have been an easy task."

Dorothea sniffled, giving a dismissive shrug. "Oh, you know. A school filled with Fodlan's wealthiest young noble bachelors? How could I pass up an opportunity like that?"

Hubert rested his chin on his palm, letting his gaze drift to the tall, sun-dappled grass outside the door. "If that is your goal, then it's certainly not the worst plan for going about it. In fact, I would call it downright shrewd. But of course, the fact that you would also be learning skills here that could be used in any number of positions in the future must have crossed your mind. A backup plan, as it were."

Dorothea snorted, though it came out more as a sniffle. "I mean, what gal wouldn't want to learn how to strike a guy with lightning whenever he gets a bit handsy?"

"Indeed, but you could have learned that in Enbarr. There are other schools, easier schools to access." Dorothea said nothing, impulsively reaching to fix her long hair, as if it were ever anything less than perfectly coiled about her shoulders. Hubert persisted. "I have read your application."

Her gaze snapped back to him, wide-eyed. "But that's--"

"Highly confidential, of course. I don't trust just anyone to have such free access to Lady Edelgard. I need to know just who is sitting behind her chair every day." It had not, in fact, been a remotely easy task to gain access to the academy's records. Hubert was still trying to puzzle out where the bishops hid their archives. Fortunately, Professor Byleth was not quite so paranoid about the files they were given, and so he had managed to leaf through the documentation on the Black Eagles. Would that the other two professors could give him such ready access to their own classes.

"It's also very rude," Dorothea muttered.

"I do not tend to concern myself with what is polite." Hubert felt a faint smirk tug at his lips. "Quite an impressive application, actually. Your test scores were average, but your essays were most engaging. You have a practicality that many others lack. You do not allow the big picture, as it were, to blind you to facts. You have valuable insights that our class needs."

Dorothea flushed, looking away from him. For someone who seemed to thrive on attention, she did not seem to know what to do with this sort of praise. She sighed impatiently. "Is there a point to all of this, or are you just heaping compliments on me so I'll drop it?"

"My point, Dorothea, is that you did not come to the officer's academy just to be a Songstress by a different name. The professor fears that making you a Dancer would send a signal that you are valued only for your appearance. That it would lead you to limit yourself. Frankly, I would be inclined to disagree, had I not seen you in action."

"They said that?" Her voice hitched a bit when she said it.

"That is what they told me. That they want to see you succeed as a gremory, a class that very few ever manage to achieve. Though I do not agree with our professor on every front, their instincts on our class composition have been largely accurate. Do not think I haven't noticed you studying the chapter on Meteor, a spell so complex that I doubt even Linhardt would be bothered to learn it."

She gave him a startled glance, but did not deny it.

Hubert nodded to her. "So I ask you again: why did you come to the officer's academy? If you are happy remaining as a Songstress, if you would be satisfied only to become a Dancer and nothing else, then I will gladly end this farce and accompany you to persuade Professor Byleth to change their mind. But if you came here to prove something, as I suspect you did, then I would be remiss to allow you to make such a sacrifice."

Her eyebrows arched disbelievingly. "Hubie, that almost sounded generous of you."

He chuckled. "Lest you mistake my actions for kindness, allow me to remind you that I seek only to ensure that Lady Edelgard's people are maximizing their potential."

"Right, of course. You could not possibly be trying to help your friends achieve their dreams the way you're always talking about helping Edie with hers." She was smiling now, even as she wiped at the corner of her eye with her sleeve. "To answer your question, I... I don't know if I have just one answer for you. But I do know that I have been around simpering nobles my whole life. And I would give just about anything for the chance to wipe the smile off their faces. And beating them at their own game? Learning the spells that all their fancy tutors and expensive libraries couldn't teach them? I'd like that very much."

Hubert smirked in triumph, and offered her a low bow. A proper bow, the likes of which he normally reserved only for Edelgard. "Then, Miss Arnault, I suggest a trade. I will help you reach your goal if you help me reach mine. Teach me to survive this blasted competition and I promise that all I know of magic is at your disposal."

Dorothea laughed. "Okay, okay, no need to turn this into the opening of an epic drama. Though... hmm. I think I have an idea of how we're going to present you now. You are actually quite charming in your own way, Hubie. There's no reason to try to cover it up with a fake smile."

Now it was Hubert's turn for skepticism. "Somehow I doubt there is much charm for you to find."

Dorothea waved him off. "Oh hush, you'll see what I mean soon enough. Anyway, we're focusing on your stance right now. Here, take my hand." She stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder and held out the other for him to hold.

He surveyed her in confusion. "Does the contest not require each contestant to be performing alone?"

Dorothea huffed. "Yes, despite the waltz being a couple's dance. It's a silly requirement, really. But right now you're letting your nerves get in the way of your movement. You need to stop being so embarrassed about me watching you. So let's take out the audience factor entirely. There is nobody left to watch if we're both participating, right?"

Hubert sighed as his gloved hand took hers, the other resting lightly on her waist. "Perceptive, as ever."

She grinned up at him. "That's why I'm your teacher. Now, you lead. Teach me to waltz as though it's my first time. I'm a lowly commoner who's never been allowed to join in on such a high class dance before."

Hubert chuckled at her, pulling them into a slow, steady rhythm. Dorothea followed smoothly, exposing her lie for what it was. "Does that work on the brainless nobles you seduce? Pretending to be clueless?"

"Some of them." She smirked, unapologetic. It was harder to match each other's steps without music, but Dorothea was a professional. She adjusted to Hubert's pace, reading his body language well enough to anticipate his steps. "Good. Loosen your grip on my hand a bit. You're directing me, not pulling me like a dog on a leash."

"Quite the analogy."

Her head quirked in an approximation of a shrug. "You'd be surprised how necessary that comparison is. Far too many noblemen can't tell the difference."

"Not as surprised as you might think." He complied with her instruction, letting her hand simply rest in his rather than gripping it.

"Better, but you're still too rigid. You're worrying too much about what I'm doing. Dancing with someone is about trust. Which I know is in short supply with you."

"What gave you that impression?" Hubert tried not to stare down at her feet, certain that he was about to tread on her toes.

"I can't believe I have to tell you this, but my eyes are up here." She laughed at his startled look. "Trust, Hubie! You need to trust me that I know how to keep up with you. And you need to trust yourself. You know these steps, right?"

Hubert studiously kept his eyes on hers, realized his hand had tightened around hers again, and pointedly loosened it. "Knowing and doing are not the same."

Dorothea sighed. "Alright, stop. New plan. I'm cashing in that magic lesson right now."

Hubert let his hands fall away from hers as she stepped back, and tried very hard to keep pace with Dorothea's shifting moods. "I did not realize you were in such a hurry to learn."

"I am now. The wall makes a good enough target, right?" She moved to stand beside him so that they both faced the same direction, with only a wall of bare brickwork ahead of them. "So? What's the most basic Dark magic you know? What's the spell you can cast in your sleep?"

Hubert regarded her. "You are aware that Dark magic and Black magic are quite different, I'm sure. Black magic utilizes the elements, while Dark magic draws on something more internal and primal."

Dorothea sighed impatiently. "I have read chapter one of the textbook, yes, thank you Hubert. Show me anyway."

Hubert puffed out a breath. At least this would be a respite from his stumbling around. "Alright. The simplest Dark attack is Miasma Δ. It goes like this." It was easy. So easy to gather the dark magic in his chest. To draw his hand across his body as he muttered the incantation, feeling the cold sting of power spreading its tendrils down the length of his arm. To flick his fingers outward just as the magic reached them, casually lobbing a sphere of crackling darkness at the bare wall. The impact resonated with the magic's hollow sound, leaving a blackened scorch mark on the bricks. How strange that trying to dance had felt like wading through waist-deep mud, but casting this spell felt like stepping back onto dry land, as light and easy as walking on a summer day.

"Hmm." Dorothea experimentally moved her hand across her chest. "Like this?"

"Palm inward. Arm parallel with the floor." He reached over and tilted her elbow up a few degrees. "You want to draw the magic in toward your hand before you expel it. If you allow your arm to droop, you risk casting at the floor rather than at your target."

Dorothea imitated his movements, right down to a small flourish in her wrist that, strictly speaking, was not a necessary addition to the spell, but that Hubert habitually added on principle. "And your feet? Do you step forward with your right or your left?"

"Always lead with your casting side."

"Right. Of course." She practiced the motions again. Hand across the chest, elbow out, step forward, flick of the wrist. Again and again she repeated the steps, imitating him perfectly without the actual orb of magical darkness firing from her hand. And then she tried it again using the other hand.

"Dorothea, what are you doing?"

Dorothea flicked one hand in front of herself and then another. "What's it look like?"

Hubert crossed his arms. "It looks like you are being very smug."

She grinned, but did not stop her impromptu dance routine, working in much more hip sway than the original spell called for. "Don't I have a right to be? I'm finding all your secrets, Hubie."

He could not help the amused smirk that crossed his face. "I very much doubt that."

"Well I've found one, anyway. You are a good dancer when you're not getting in the way of yourself. We just have to draw it out of you. What is spellcasting other than a very precise dance routine with a purpose?" She did a careless twirl, her hair fanning out around her. It looked so effortless.

"Ah yes, deadly magical force is naught but prancing about." Hubert watched as Dorothea spun the movements he had taught her into an intricate routine that grew with each new iteration. Here he was, betrayed by his own lesson.

She came to a standstill, grinning in triumph. Whereas Hubert felt bedraggled and exhausted by dance, she looked invigorated, her peach skin glistening radiantly. "From now on, we'll warm up our sessions with a magic lesson. It's something you're already confident in, so it'll get you into the mindset you need. Come on now, let's get back to it. We've got lots of time yet before the sun goes down."

Hubert groaned, casting his eyes up at the treacherously clear blue sky, still shining bright with the low evening sun. If only he believed in the Goddess, he might be tempted to beg her to nudge it towards the horizon just a bit faster.

#hubert von vestra #dorothea arnault #black eagles #fanfic #dance of the black heron #indigo's ferdibert got me hyped to finish this part!

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yukiwrites · 3 years ago

Text

Step by Step, Towards the End

Thank you so much for the support as always, @breeachuu! I hope you like it!

Summary: Wolfram had chosen to stay by Dimitri and Byleth's side, so he would do anything to be able to keep on helping them achieve their objectives. He didn't expect to feel so proud, happy and fulfilled just by being part of history being written, though!

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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Despite being wet until their bones, the two did not let go of their embrace, sharing the very last of their warmth with each other. As Dimitri was weary from pouring his heart out for the first time in his life, he started to get heavier and heavier in Wolfram’s arms.

Although he was part dragon, Wolfram wasn’t one to rely much on physical strength, so Dimitri’s weight would undoubtedly topple them both on a puddle lest Wolfram did something. The answer came from a nearby cot at the stables -- Aquilo called on Wolfie once he saw his master trembling with cold and with lack of strength in his legs.

Little by little did they both walk without breaking physical contact until they reached Aquilo’s cot, and further until they were within Aquilo’s embrace, under his wing.

As a wyvern, Aquilo’s body was not warm in the slightest, not to mention the piercing cold of Dimitri’s armor… And yet, their embrace filled Wolfram’s chest with warmth, especially since he held Dimitri within his bosom, allowing the Prince something he most likely hadn’t had ever since his family passed away: solace, and a shoulder to cry on.

At some point, despite it all, Dimitri fell into a short sleep, one that wasn’t accompanied by the ghosts of the past; one that allowed him to rest his weary bones for the first time in… a decade. Wolfie simply did what his Mother and Father did for him whenever they nested: he ran his fingers through Dimitri’s wet hair, bringing him a sense of belonging.

The rain stopped before dawn broke, and the ensuing silence woke Dimitri up from his light sleep. He blinked slowly, as though wondering if he was within a dream for it to be so comfortable, but soon met with Wolfram’s blue lips and tired eyes.

“Oh…” Dimitri flinched. “Forgive me, I wasn’t myself.” He sat up, noticing he was under Aquilo’s wing. “I must ask for forgiveness once again, you’re freezing! Let us-”

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m fine.” Wolfie placed a placating hand on Dimitri’s shoulder. “I’m here because I want to be, so no need to apologize to me! Besides, I’m more worried about you. Are you feeling better?”

“I,” Dimitri opened his mouth, then closed it as he looked down. “Yes, I am feeling better. Thank you for stopping me on my suicidal mission, Wolfram. Were you not there, I would perhaps die a dog’s death pursuing Edelgard…”

“Mhm,” Wolfie bobbed his head to the sides, taking Dimitri’s hand into his. “I’m still worried, though, especially about those stabs. You didn’t let anyone take a look at it yesterday, right? I used a bit of healing magic during the night, but magic won’t heal infections, so I wanna take a look at it as soon as possible.”

Dimitri deflated, a small smile sprouting on his lips from the solace of having someone worry about him. “Of course. The maids should have started placing hot water on the tubs, so please come warm yourself in my quarters.”

Wolfram felt a shiver run down his spine and smiled weakly. “Sure! I won’t say no to a warm bath.”

The walk to Dimitri’s quarters was silent, though they never let go of each other’s hands, as though still lingering on the previous night’s events. Once they arrived, they almost ran into the maid that was coming out of the room from supplying the tub with hot water.

“K-kyaa!” She shrieked lightly as she saw Dimitri up close, shivering as though she had met the god of death itself. “F-forgive me my impudence, please spare me-” she bowed deeply, fearing meeting Dimitri’s eyes.

Hesitating, the prince let out a pained smile and stopped reaching out for the bowing maid.

“It’s alright. Thank you for your service, miss,” he said politely, which prompted the girl to look up to him in shock before she nodded vigorously and scurried off to continue with her work.

Wolfram followed the girl’s back with his eyes, then turned to Dimitri, placing one hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

The prince nodded, entering the room. “I’ve much to atone for, and many to apologize to for my past behavior,” he took a deep breath, as though that was the first time he did so in five years. “Thinking for myself and living for myself is no easy task, but I… am ready to walk towards that direction.”

“Mhm,” Wolfie leaned on the door as pride swelled in his chest. Dimitri took off his cloak, placing it on a coat hanger beside the door.

“Then, please, Wolfram, help yourself to the hot water.” He started unbuckling his bracers.

“Oh, no, I’m not going until after you! You’re the patient here and I want this wound clean and dressed before I’m to do anything!” Wolfie puffed his cheeks, poking Dimitri’s shoulder.

Chuckling, the prince nodded obediently. “Very well, friend. Thank you for taking such good care of me.” After saying that, and free from his bracers, Dimitri started to undress himself of his armor.

The cloak and the armor were heavy on their own, yes, but as each piece of clothing came off, Wolfram could see where all that weight that almost crushed him the night before came from: Dimitri’s body knew nothing but muscles and scars. They were firm to the eye and Wolfie was sure that they would be just as hard if he were to touch them and-

He felt… rather weird. His throat was dry and his reflex was to look away once Dimitri was about to take off his breeches. Only when the prince was fully immersed into the tub did Wolfram look again, somewhat conscious of how weird his heart was beating at that moment.

“How does it look?” Dimitri tilted his head to the side, revealing his naked nape, the place where the stabbing was most severe. As Wolfram thought, it looked like it would infect soon, so he was adamant on cleaning it well.

“Phew, good thing we caught it early!” The half-manakete said once he was satisfied with the cleaning job. “Okay, but I’ll need some herbs and bandages… I’ll go get them now!” He fled before Dimitri could even protest, his face on fire.

Wolfie ran towards the infirmary inside the bridge (that was reserved for high-ranking soldiers), his face so hot he almost forgot how cold he had been just an hour previous. His mind was chaotic, trying to understand his erratic emotions, though his hands moved with the ease of familiarity with the place. He didn’t even realize he was already on his way back after getting everything he needed until he was in front of Dimitri’s door again.

“I’m back!” he went in without being fully ready, his heart pounding.

It pounded harder once he saw that Dimitri was sitting on the bed with only a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one hanging over his shoulders.

“Welcome back,” he smiled warmly. The wound in his eye was already closed and taken care of, but it was the first time Wolfie was seeing Dimitri without his eyepatch, so he needed a moment to revive his heart.

“How handsome…” he mumbled, then gasped. “Um, okay! Here they are! Lemme look at your wound again!” He spoke in a high-pitched voice that was foreign to his own ears. However, once he got close, he realized it would be no use to dress the wound on Dimitri’s neck if his hair was still dripping wet. “Wait, let me dry this for you,” Wolfie placed the medicine on a nearby table, then carefully took the towel on Dimitri’s shoulder to start drying his hair.

“... Thank you,” Dimitri closed his eyes, leaning his head on Wolfram’s touch. For some reason, he didn’t feel like apologizing or saying that he would do it himself. It felt good, warm and comforting to be pampered as though he was a child, even if only for a moment.

Wolfram’s heart went off like a battle horn; his face so red and rigid he even had trouble swallowing and breathing. Still, he couldn’t help but drown all of those noises his brain and heart were making to simply enjoy the moment. For how long had he wanted his first friend to be this well? It was a moment Wolfie wouldn’t trade for anything.

He dried Dimitri’s hair in silence, then only instructed the prince to move this or that way so he could properly dress the wounds before finally nodding with an easy smile. “There you go, all patched up! You need to rest, you hear? If you strain this area too much, it REALLY might infect…”

“Of course. Thank you once again, Wolfram. Now, please, warm yourself before the water gets cold; I cannot be at ease seeing how wet you got because of me.”

As though reminded of his still damp clothes, Wolfie shivered. “Uh-oh, I completely forgot about it. Okay, I’ll go take a bath now, thank you! But I can just heat up the water with my fire, so no need to worry about it getting cold, nyaha!” He winked -- as much as one could actually see it -- before running away behind the room divider.

Seeing Dimitri look UP at him with that warm gaze -- it made Wolfie feel all tangled up and weird inside. He had to warm himself up before he went crazy!

Since he had access to hair oil inside this room, Wolfram used the opportunity to wash his hair as well. It had gotten rather long in the past five years -- its tips were of a light green that resembled Nidra’s hair, which made Wolfie even prouder of being able to grow out his hair.

He took after Henry in many ways, especially in the hair area; his locks were thin and barely grew after some point, so no matter how much Wolfie wanted to have a long braid like his older brothers, he could never do it.

But that wasn’t the case anymore! Now he could braid his hair in Meliodas’ fashion, though his locks weren’t nearly as long as his brother’s: they barely reached up to the middle of his back, but that was a start!

Wolfie came out of the room divider with a smile as he lovingly dried his hair. He found Dimitri midway to putting his armor back on, which made the smile die immediately.

“Wait, you need to rest!” He protested, blocking Dimitri’s path to another piece of armor.

Dimitri’s hand dropped, but his back was straight and his gaze was firm. “Thank you for worrying about me so much, Wolfram. Truly. I also must ask for forgiveness for how I’ve behaved in the past few months.” He bowed deeply, making Wolfram flinch.

“H-hey, I don’t need this-”

“No, you do. If it weren’t for you, the Professor and everyone, I wouldn’t be here today. I wouldn’t be alive to think of what step to take next… So, yes, you and all the others need to be thanked and apologized to.” He was resolute. “I must admit I still do not know what to do to atone for all the monstrous acts I commited, but I do know that I will live my entire life looking for the answer.” He looked up to the ceiling, as though he could see something that wasn’t there. “The first step I need to take in order to redeem myself and live for what I believe in is… to return to Fhirdiad.”

Wolfram gasped at the remark, feeling pride swell in his heart. They were going to save the people that were suffering under the Dukedom and the Empire’s heel!

“I have always believed that to be the right path, but the shackles were…” he glanced up to the ceiling again, then smiled bitterly, “they were too much to bear. They are still heavy and I might falter under them, but if I am to follow the path of the living… then I am willing to bear that weight.”

“Mhm…” Wolfie clutched his chest with emotion, then watched as Dimitri reached out to take said hand into his.

“So I beg you not to stop me, friend. I must attend the morning council to relay not only my apologies but the change of course to the others. Instead, will you not go with me?”

Wolfram smiled, then pouted. “That’s unfair; of course I’ll go with you!”

Dimitri chuckled, squeezing Wolfie’s hand slightly before letting go. “Thank you, Wolfram.”

On their way to the council, Wolfram felt strange that there were many eyes on him -- he could feel glances from afar and from the people passing by them; all directed at him. What could it be?

The answer would arrive as soon as they stepped into the room: all of their classmates gasped at Dimitri’s entrance (and Dedue even faltered, worrying about his wounds), though their eyes lingered on Wolfram; specifically, his ears.

“Ah!” He gasped, then shut his mouth with one hand. How could he forget? He had revealed himself the previous day to save Dimitri! Now everyone knew he wasn’t human. Their eyes moved back to Dimitri during his speech, so Wolfram was given a few minutes to think of his situation.

He was wearing some random clothes that were hanging around Dimitri’s room since his own were completely drenched from last night, so it was no wonder that he didn’t even wear his own bandanna. Wolfie had been so focused on Dimitri, he forgot everything else!

It was a wonder in and of itself, honestly, especially because keeping that secret had always weighed heavily on him from day one. Now, it was gone with the wind, poof! Like it never happened… and Wolfie only just now noticed it.

It was almost funny!

He was smiling by the end of the meeting, which had spanned several hours after Dimitri suggested they change their course, so before Gilbert officially closed all topics for the day, Wolfie raised his hand with a light heart.

“What is it, lad?” Gilbert asked as he placed the documents he had taken back on the table.

Wolfram and Dimitri exchanged glances and the prince took a step back with a smile. Once Wolfie was at the center of the room, he found Caspar’s and Dorothea’s gazes before anyone else’s, which gave him even more strength to reveal everything.

“Yesterday… well, I was gonna say that some of you might’ve seen me flying without my wyvern yesterday, but even now you can see how different I am from all of you, right?” He turned his head to the sides, his still loose hair dancing behind him. “Actually, I’m not fully human and, well, I came from a faraway place to help.”

“Help? With the war? Did you know?!” Annette raised her hand as though asking a question at a seminar.

“Hmm, honestly, I was instructed to stay with Byleth, no matter what happened, so I didn’t really know what was going to happen.” Wolfie scratched his cheek. “I’m really sorry for deceiving you all about my amnesia, but I really didn’t have any choice. I couldn’t show up and say I wasn’t human in a place I never saw shape-shifters about…”

“Shape-shifter…” Mercedes hummed. “It was said that the Children of the Goddess could transform into dragons. Are you perhaps…?” She trailed off, placing one hand over her chest.

“Uh, I have a human father and a dragon mother, but she’s not a goddess. Well… I did come here on our own goddess’ orders, so…”

“Amazing! You came into contact with her?” Mercedes approached, smiling brightly. Behind her, Ignatz was also eager to listen.

“Nyaha!” Wolfie giggled.” Alright, giddy up…!” He raised his sleeves, looking for a chair to sit on. Telling that tale would take a while, but it seemed that most of them were willing to listen, so Wolfie smiled widely and got ready to finally reveal everything.

Well, he was going to keep the parts about Rhea, Flayn and Seteth to himself. Byleth also shared more of what happened to her when she came to him with questions, so it wasn’t his place to reveal that either, but he just had to say what he had already told Caspar and Dorothea, so it would all be okay!

Unfortunately, Wolfram didn’t take into account the amount of questions many people could ask as opposed to only two people, so the reveal ended up stretching all the way until lunch time, and then a bit more. The half-manakete even forgot that he had planned on giving Dimitri his jewel right after they exited the meeting, so once he freed himself from the last stragglers, he went back to the familiar corridor towards Dimitri’s room.

Since his heart was light all day, Wolfram wasn’t still completely into the mood a manakete would usually be in for a jewel exchanging moment. He knocked on the door with an easy smile, then entered with Dimitri’s permission to find the prince awkwardly on top of the bed.

“Dedue and the Professor threatened me, saying that they would not let me out of their sight unless I rested, so resting I am.” He huffed in a defeated sigh.

“Heehee,” Wolfie giggled in response, thanking both of them in his mind. “Good, because that’s where a patient should be.” He sat on the bed, which finally allowed Dimitri to sit up (‘resting’ was not something he was accustomed to), then fiddled with his pockets.

The nervousness came a bit late, but surely it wrapped Wolfie in its clutches. “Um, I have something for you,” he croaked out.

“You’ve given me so much already, Wolfram.” Dimitri touched the tip of Wolfie’s knee, which was close to him.

“But this is something I promised to give you five years ago, though; it’s looong overdue.” Wolfie pressed his lips nervously, fidgeting with the jewel in his pocket. “Remember that lock of hair I asked you to give me?”

Dimitri stared blankly at Wolfram for a good second before gasping softly. “... Indeed! You said that your kin forges a… jewel of sorts to symbolize their relationship…”

“Mhm,” Wolfie took out the jewel from his pocket, placing it on Dimitri’s palm. “We pour different feelings into our fire to craft jewels based on how we feel about this or that person. And in this… are my thoughts about you. I crafted this a bit after I heard you were dead, then missing, so there’s a lot of longing and hoping.”

“... I see.” Dimitri spoke softly, touching the jewel with his index. “You’ve been worrying about me for such a long time, have you not? I’ve no words of thanks left…”

“There’s no need for more thanks, just, um… This is a big deal for my people, so I’m only asking you to take good care of it?”

“Absolutely! If I had the skill, I would attach a chain to it to hand around my neck right away, but since this is too precious to try my luck on this, may I ask if I can hand it to someone so they can make it into a necklace?”

Wolfram fidgeted. “Um, I think it’s better if I do it. It’s something really intimate, you know?”

“Of course, thank you for teaching me yet another aspect of your culture. Then, I am returning this to you,” he placed the jewel back into Wolfram’s hand. “I look forward to the day when I can carry it with me always.”

“Mhm…” Wolfie felt all mushy inside, which even translated to his flushed cheeks. “Thanks for accepting it, Dimitri. It means a lot.” He giggled, then clutched his and Dimitri’s jewels into his hand and kissed it lovingly.

Seeing the heartwarming scene, Dimitri couldn’t help but smile in turn, not even realizing he reached out to caress Wolfram’s long hair.

So many things had changed.

Yet, the most important ones hadn’t, thankfully.

There wasn’t much time for Dimitri to rest, unfortunately. Since they were in a race against time -- their enemy already had a tight hold on the capitol and were striking at the remaining loyal houses as they spoke -- they needed to make haste to Fhirdiad if they wanted to bring Cornelia’s reign of terror to the end.

Along with Dimitri’s changed behavior and Wolfram’s revelation, many aspects of their daily lives improved. The prince now took the time to speak with every single soldier he could, not to mention the maids and servants.

Caspar even told Wolfram that Dimitri had apologized to him about the way he had treated Caspar’s uncle, Randolph, back at the monastery’s invasion! Wolfram couldn’t be prouder of the both of them, honestly. Dimitri, for obvious reasons, but Caspar for being able to forgive so easily and let go of the past, despite Wolfram having been the one who dealt the killing blow on Randolph.

The closer they got to Faerghus, the colder it got. Despite spring being in full bloom, a land of the north was still a land of the north until the end. Wolfie had to resort to wearing more layers of clothes under his armor, resigning himself to not transforming during the battle for Fhirdiad if it meant not wearing an open back shirt like usual.

Yet, despite the cold, the streets were burning -- self-inflicted flames hailing from the Dukedom’s soldiers themselves, who were intent on bringing down the city with them if they had to.

The fight was fierce and full of traps along the way, but soon Dimitri’s spear dug itself inside Cornelia’s chest, bringing an end to the tyranny of a woman mad with power. She had spouted some nonsense about Dimitri’s stepmother causing the tragedy that had changed his life forever, but the prince stood tall in face of her poisonous words, emerging victorious in the end.

Once he relayed his victory speech to the soldiers, Gilbert approached from behind, urging him to go up to the balcony and greet the people he had saved.

Dimitri paled in an instant. “Do you mean- no! I cannot face them, not after everything I did-”

“It’s precisely because you did everything you could that you must face them now, Your Majesty.” Gilbert bowed deeply, facing his King, at long last.

Still faltering, Dimitri took a shaky breath. “Very well. “ he took a step forward, then glanced at the allies that followed close behind -- Gilbert, Byleth, Dedue and Wolfram -- before smiling.

The roars of the people could be heard even before they could be seen.

“What… what is this?” Dimitri gapped at the warm welcome. He was expecting stones, not cheers of victory.

“As you can see, the people are rejoicing in the return of their King.” Gilbert said solemnly.

“Bloodstained as I am… Am I fit to be King?” His voice shook as his eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t cry, Dimitri.” Byleth poked at the tall man, smiling mischievously.

Sniffling, Dimitri dried his face. “These are happy tears, my friend.”

Hearing his emotional voice made Wolfie sniffle as well, though his tears went unseen. The thunderous applause of the people in front of him reverberated through his chest, making him stand upright and allow himself to feel proud. He was so proud of his friend; of his company; of… of even himself! It was because everyone had banded together to put an end to evil that they managed to achieve such an overwhelming victory!

With these light thoughts and steps, the group went to the victory celebration that the soldiers prepared while Dimitri was busy meeting the people.

The venue wasn't as fancy as it had been back at the Monastery -- they weren’t going to fill the royal hall with battle-worn soldiers, after all -- since they were huddling themselves around the barracks, but the atmosphere was just as lively. No, it was much, much livelier than in the past, since they were now celebrating a victory they had shed blood to achieve.

Caspar took Wolfram for a spin just like he had done when they were students, but this time there was no one to kick them out for tripping on other people. There was only laughter, song and good food all around.

Wolfram spun so much he started to get nauseous, so he excused himself for a bit to get some fresh air -- something he mildly regretted since the so-called ‘fresh air’ was cold as ice, despite the season.

However, he didn’t regret it TOO much, seeing as he found Dimitri at the balcony he had chosen.

Dimitri noticed Wolfram approaching and smiled softly. “Have you grown weary of the festivities already?”

“No way, there’s a lot more partying in me yet.” Wolfie giggled, then shook his head slightly. “But all that dancing upset the food in my stomach so I was just taking a walk. What about you, though? You’re the main character!”

“It’s not that I’ve grown weary,” Dimitri looked beyond the balcony, towards the brightly lit city below, “I just find it difficult to be around everyone at the moment. Being back here in the castle after so long compelled me to visit the graves of my loved ones. It’s been too long since I offered flowers, perhaps a full decade.”

“Oh,” Wolfie pressed his lips, allowing Dimitri his space to speak.

“But I cannot stay away from them any longer. I’ve chosen to live for myself, but that does not mean that I disregard the dead. It simply means that I will live all the life in me to atone for everything.”

Wolfram opened his mouth to contest; to say that he had nothing to atone for, not regarding the ones who died, but he stopped himself. He knew that this was a matter too heavy to approach for the moment; not to mention that Dimitri wanted to atone for his five years encroached in darkness as well, so Wolfie had no right to say anything in that regard.

Instead, he took a step towards Dimitri, took his hand and leaned his head on on the prince’s shoulder. “I’m really proud of you, did you know? When you stood there in front of the people and showed your emotions,” he felt Dimitri shift, as though embarrassed for having cried in front of so many people, “and vowed to be the best person you can be to them until you can handle it. You’re going great.”

Dimitri’s chin trembled with emotion as he feared that he would dissolve in tears for the second time that night. Speaking was difficult, and the words of thanks only came after many tries. “Thank you, Wolfram. Truly.”

Wolfie simply nodded, but before he could even reply, he heard hurried steps coming in their direction with his sensitive hearing. His head snapped up to where the sound was coming from, followed by Dimitri’s confused gaze.

Soon, however, Dimitri heard the steps as well.

“Your Highness, I finally found you!” A foot soldier gasped for breath. “There’s an express messenger from the Alliance at the parlor, it’s urgent!”

Startled, Dimitri exchanged hurried glances with Wolfram. “Very well, thank you for running all the way here. Lead me to him.”

Apparently, the Empire was about to strike Derdriu, so Claude had sent an express messenger asking for the Kingdom’s aid right as he felt the shift in the Empire’s forces. Wolfram truly respected Claude’s backbone -- to ask help of someone who had been his enemy in the previous battle, albeit a misplaced one, was a power move.

Regardless of how each of them felt about the situation, their morale was at an all-time high after retaking the capital. That being so, they headed to the Aquatic Capital with clear heads and firm arms.

As they travelled, they devised many strategies to be able to jump into action as soon as they arrived, but the one Byleth suggested the most seemed to be the one that they would find themselves in: from how the Professor read the battlefield and how much she knew Claude, they would most likely fight in a pincer attack.

Claude was planning on luring the Empire’s forces into his territory so Dimitri could strike them on the back and effectively wipe them out. Truly a power move; Wolfram’s respect for him grew even more.

He conveyed as much once they met on the battlefield while Wolfie served as a fast messenger as usual.

“Wolf, you haven’t changed at all! Or should I say that you changed just as much as I expected you would? Done with the amnesia act now?” Claude teased despite being out of breath for covering his allies with his arrows from above.

Laughing, the half manakete simply relayed the message, glad that Claude’s wit hadn’t disappeared even after half a decade.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel weird while fighting those people. He was basically moving back and forth to relay Byleth’s orders, but he still had to protect himself here and there, so he was involved in a skirmish or two.

They felt familiar, like enemies he had fought before… Or watched someone fight before. But where? Who was it? The battle was so chaotic he couldn’t even focus on pulling a memory from years ago.

Yet, despite Wolfram’s worry, the battle progressed much faster than anyone had expected once the Kingdom army arrived. Of course, a pincer attack was usually always a winning tactic so it was no wonder that Claude was confident in that strategy.

But the truly shocking part of that entire endeavor was not the battle itself, but the results after it was won: Claude had taken measures to merge the Alliance back into the Kingdom, solidifying a step into the unification of Fódlan by Dimitri instead of by what Edelgard had been trying to do for the past five years.

“I need to leave right away, so our reunion won’t be as long,” Claude had told them the night before he was set to board a ship to somewhere far away, “but when I come back, I wanna hear all of the juicy details, you hear?”

Wolfie giggled after accepting Claude’s stretched hand into a warm handshake that shared a promise to meet again, whenever their futures crossed. Wolfram wondered in passing if he would still be in this world whenever Claude returned, but somehow, he felt that regardless of how long it took, they would meet again, against all circumstances.

Merging the Alliance back into the Kingdom after hundreds of years of its independence was a surprising boon to their cause -- though it would mean many, many mountains of documents to sign and reports to read once things calmed down -- but there was still one step to take before they could bring the fight into the Empire’s territory: they had to retake Arianrhod, the Fortress City.

It was once the border between the Kingdom and the Empire, which was now being controlled by the imperial forces. Dimitri had to take it back to ensure that Fhirdiad would be safe while they breached into the Empire’s territory towards Enbarr.

The plan was to retake Arianrhod, mostly known as the Silver Maiden, right after reclaiming Faerghus, but Claude’s matter was more pressing, so the endeavor was pushed back. Now, however, it was their priority.

It was the final step to reclaiming all of Faerghus, especially now before the imperial forces inside it were strengthened.

The fortress resembled the Great Bridge of Myrddin, though it was certainly more focused on defense and entrapment than on attack. There were many demonic beasts guarding the devices that controlled the traps, but Wolfram was able to take on one of them all by himself.

In Fódlan, or at least in this world where Fódlan was located, there were many kinds of magic; many still that were innate to some people. Although Wolfram was an outlander, it wasn’t as though he didn’t have untapped magic inside of him; it was simply because there was no such practice in Archena.

Because of all of these factors, Wolfram was able to find a powerful kind of magic within him: one that he called ‘Naga’ in respect to his kind’s Mother. It was devastatingly effective against monsters of all kind, to the point that he was able to fry a demonic beast in one shot after using the magic. Though it was a one-use only magic, it was something that would be a tremendous help in the future.

“Holy shit!” Caspar yelled from beside Wolfram during the battle after seeing the scorched body of the beast fall to the ground. “What was that? Awesome!”

Even Byleth commented on it after Wolfie returned to her with a message. “So this was your innate magic. Is it common in your world? It’s powerful.”

“Heehee…” Wolfram laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know, honestly. I just felt a surge of power and used it. We don’t use innate magic where I’m from, so I don’t know if it’s common or not.”

“I see; interesting. I wish I could go there someday to perhaps teach more people about magic from this world.”

“Oh, that would be interesting! I know my Father would love to learn more about magic!” Wolfie giggled happily, gearing himself up again to deliver another message.

Just one more step… Just after conquering this fortress, they would finally be able to start their war against the Empire in earnest.

The next stop: Fort Merceus!

#fire emblem three houses #fatesona #fodlansona #dimitri fire emblem #my writings #yuki's commissions

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fe-semi-decent-scenarios · 4 years ago

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Oh my gosh I love your Ashe x reader! So wholesome 💝 could I get a one-shot of Ashe and the reader where the reader asks him to have tea time with her, and she puts so much effort into the tea and snacks in order to confess to him?

[Hello! sorry that this request took some time. I’ve recently gotten into watching ‘The Great British Baking Show,’ and now I find myself learning how to make tarts vs. doing anything productive lol. On the bright side I learned how to make a gnash icing! I did my best with this one, and it’s a bit lengthy to make up for the wait. I wrote it from s/o’s p.o.v because somehow that just happened(I normally don’t opt. for first person). It’s not my best work, but I hope you like it!]

Ashe Ubert x Reader: {Tea over Troubles}

Premise: Much has happened in the short time you’ve spent at the monastery. One thing in-particular being a snag in your heart for a certain freckle faced sweetheart. Being the tongue-tied romantic you are, can some evening snacks smooth over an otherwise awkward confession?

“I’ll take one bag of mint brew please,” I said while reaching into my pocket. It was rather early in the morning, so the market was only just opening. Not too often do I show up around here before noon because of classes, but today is an exception. At my voice the shopkeeper tipped his hat at me in a greeting, before sifting through his wares.

“Sure thing. That’ll be 300 gold,” He said and pulled out a small sack. I took it gratefully and handed him the desired amount. It’s a bit pricier than what I usually go for, but on special occasions money is not something to mull over. In the distance the monastery clock chimed to signal the start of class, and I hurriedly shoved the sack into my bag.

“Thank you! I’ll be around next week for my order of Almyran pine,” I toss him a wave before leaving, and in turn the man does the same. Though next week I hopefully won’t have to visit at such an ungodly hour.

By the time I arrive class had already started. Professor Byleth stood stark in front of the chalk board, and it appeared that they were in the middle of a lesson on trajectory for the long-range fighters in our group. While their back was turned, I took the opportunity to slowly creep into the room. The door creaked just a smidge, drawing a few of my peers' attention. Felix glares my way but that’s no shock. What better thing could he do with his time then judge me? Luckily, I sit second from the back next to Sylvain. Reaching it undetected goes well enough. Though said tablemate is a chatterbox who’s laugh cost all my stealth points.

“You’re late (Y/N), this is unlike you,” The professor said. Sylvain’s snorty laugh drew their attention. It seemed that as I tried to calm my seatmate down, they maneuvered to stand in front of our table. Not the best situation to be caught in.

“I’m so sorry professor. I couldn’t find my books this morning,” I lied. Not an obvious one, but my tense posture might be a giveaway. If it was, they didn’t seem to care.

“I see, just try not to let it happen again,” They said and left me no room to reply before returning to the board. As if a puppeteer let go of my string my posture slumped, and from my side came a nudge. I ignore it only for Sylvain to wrap one of his arms over my shoulder. Across the room Ingrid lets out an irritated sigh; at least with me he won’t leave a mess for her to clean up. That poor girl.

“So…where were you really,” He pressed his face closer to my own, and from the corner of my eye I could see that cocky smirk of his.

“In my room?” I said, playing dumb.

“Do you expect me to believe that?” He said, but then his eyes widened a fraction “don’t tell me you were seeing someone? Now this is good,” his tone dropped an octave at the end. Utter mortification overtook my features, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes in disgust. All that did for him was solidify his theory.

“Could you get your mind out of the gutter?!” I snapped, but then remembered where we were “Honestly, Sylvain. Nock it off,” I whisper while pulling away entirely. He then shrugs his shoulders and turns back to face the board.

“My mind is exactly where it should- Ow!” His shriek startled me, and despite my own interests I join him in inspecting behind us. As Sylvain rubs the back of his head all I can do is assume someone flicked him. Maybe threw something? Alright then, the pencil on the floor supports the second option.

“Now what was that for?” He asked the two behind us. Ashe looked up from his textbook with one eyebrow quirked. He questioned what Sylvain meant, while at his side Annette clearly had a guilty conscience as she twiddled with the hems of her sleeves. That’s when I had to hold back my own smile. If Ashe knows nothing, then what could he have been reading from an upside-down textbook?

“Focus you two! This is important,” The professor cuts the interaction short, and when Sylvain turns, I can’t help but catch Ashe’s shoulders slump. How cute.

As usual the professor’s malicious lessons wear us all dry. By the end of the day we’re all like savages scouring for fresh game to cook up. Well, not exactly. We just need a few hours of sleep and maybe a glass of water. The only one of us who’s still fully attentive at this hour is Dedue. It’s…a bit unnerving how he can go so long with perfect posture.

“Class is dismissed. Remember that we have a mock battle next week, so be sure to brush up on formation placement for when I’m not there to guide you,” The professor concludes our lesson, and with a wave of the wrist people begin to file out. I wave goodbye to those sitting near me, and instead approach the professor’s pew. They glance up from the papers they’re reading and signal me to speak.

“Excuse me, Professor. Can I have a moment of your time for a personal issue?” I ask, and they place the papers down.

“I assume this has to do with why you were late today,” I nod.

“Alright, go on”

“Well, as you know things have been a bit rough for Ashe since the incident with the western church. I wanted to cheer him up, so I went out this morning to buy his favorite tea. I also wanted to get him something nice to eat…but I don’t know what he might like,” My words come out rushed and a bit uneven. The professor looks at me as if to say, ‘now how does this involve me?’ and I shakily move to tuck any hair stragglers behind my ear. Yeah, that surly couldn’t have made my feelings more obvious. I’m just a mastermind with words, aren’t I?

“You eat meals with him often after training, right? Any ideas?” I elaborate, and for a moment they pause to think.

“Sweet bread. He orders it often as a dessert,” They said, and give me an encouraging pat on the shoulder. With a large grin I snatch up my schoolbag and bid them farewell. The professor may not be the most expressive person, but that doesn’t mean they’re not supportive.

“Thank you, professor!”

After that catastrophe I began to make my way towards the mess hall. If luck is on my side, then the chefs won’t have any issue loaning out the kitchen to me for a few hours later this evening. As I walk the greenhouse comes into view, and perhaps it was a sign. What better way to cheer someone up than with flowers? With that in mind I change my course with a skip in my step and enter the garden in hopes of crafting a small bouquet. Though instead I’m met with a pleasant surprise.

“Ashe, Dedue! Fancy meeting you here,” I approach the duo, who are harvesting out of the vegetable gardens. At my presence Ashe jolts, and nearly drops the basket he was holding. Dedue was quick to respond and steadied him easily.

“O-oh! (Y/N) don’t do that, you nearly scared the wits out of me,” Ashe puts his free arm to his chest with a relieved sigh, and I can’t help but giggle. I nearly forgot he was the easily startled type; my bad.

“Haha I’m sorry guys. I hope that I’m not interrupting, just a few minutes and I’ll be out of your hair,” I said, and bypassed them to peruse the flora section of the garden. It was hard to pick out a distinct aroma, as the mass amount of plants seemed to overtake the room with the scent of wet soil. Someone must have watered recently.

“There is no need to rush. We are only collecting morfis plums for the head chef,” Dedue said, and continued to fill the basket Ashe was carrying.

“Dedue is right. Please, take your time,” Ashe said as well; once the basket was full, he began to carry it to the exit. As he walked, I noticed small patches of dirt littered over his uniform.

“That seems to be enough. Thank you for your help Dedue, I can deliver them from here,” He opened the door, and waved goodbye to the both of us before taking his leave. With every step small bits of dirt fell onto the floor in his wake.

“Then I will take my leave as well. Goodbye (Y/N),” Dedue moved to follow, but hastily I called out to him.

“Dedue hang on one moment!” He halted but did not turn away from the door.

“Yes?”

“I know this is kind of sudden, but do you perhaps know what Ashe’s favorite flower is? I wanted to prepare him a present,” I said a bit softer than before. Just as the professor did, he paused in thought. Then he pointed to the small bed of violets planted in the corner.

“Hm. I do not know, but I am under the belief that he prefers violets,” I couldn’t suppress my urge to hug him, so I did. I gave him a swift side squeeze and ran over to crouch by the blooms. Just a few in a vase would be perfect!

“Dedue you are the best! Just…don’t tell him that I’m doing this? Please?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder to meet his eyes. He remained expressionless as usual, but I could still hear the amusement in his voice.

“There is no benefit in ruining a surprise. I will not speak of it,” He bowed, and then dismissed himself.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then” I cheered, “bye! Thanks again Dedue,”

That evening had been spent productively, and by ‘productively’ I mean ‘making multiple sweet breads till one came edible’. It turns out that baking bread wasn’t as easy as it sounded, and that the chefs really don’t like when you make a calamity of their kitchen. After endless attempts I did manage to make something of…substance? If anything, Ashe will have a good laugh from it. By the end of the night there was flour lodged in places that I honestly didn’t know it could reach. The time from cleaning the kitchen to arriving at my room remains a blur, but the fresh loaf stored on my desk makes it all worth it.

When I manage to clean myself up for class, I arrive to see a bit of a twist on the normal set-up. Where I’d normally find my lover-boy classmate sat Ashe, and next to Anette was the missing flirt in question. They spoke idle chatter while waiting for the professor to arrive, so instead of interrupting I advanced towards my seat. With a newfound morning wind, I pulled out my usual chair.

“Hey, I didn’t hear anything about a new seating arrangement,” I spoke out to no one, but when I sat down Ashe turned towards my way. His hair appeared tamed for once and after catching my gaze he moved to comb it back with his hand. As I’ve said before: too cute.

“Good morning, the professor thought it would be a nice change of pace,” he said, a bit too cheery for this early, “I uhm…hope that it’s no issue?”

“Issue? You mean blessing. Now I can focus without Sylvain chatting my ear off” I leaned against the desk in hopes of getting more comfortable. At my dismissal of the new yet welcome change, he moved to unpack his things. Had he really waited to see if I was in favor of this?

“That’s very true. I’m also glad that we share a table now. I like having you as my partner,” a pause, a recollection, and then panic, “I-I mean for w-work! Partner for work!” His voice became more of a squeak as he moved to correct himself. From behind me Sylvain kicked at my ankles, without a doubt congratulating me on flustering the boy. As Ashe continued to scramble for his dignity, my head began to feel a bit heavy on my palm. Staying up into the morning hours wasn’t one of my brightest ideas, but what’s done is done.

“Say…are you alright? You seem out of it,” Placing the last of his things on his desk, Ashe turned to face me. It’s only normal that he’d ask, given my appearance and his caring nature. With a small smile, I attempted to shoo away his concern.

“Just didn’t sleep well, it’s fine. Would you maybe like to hang out later during free hour? You know, take a break from school for a bit,” Changing the topic was a good move considering how his face lit up. All remise of concern wiped away in favor of his face going flush.

“If it would help you feel better than I would love to,” he eagerly replied, “N-not to say that I would say ‘no’ otherwise. I’ll just be quiet now” Perhaps confessing isn’t as difficult as others make it seem. If he gets excited over simply spending time together, than tonight might cause him to collapse.

After dinner had been over with, I set my sights on assuring that everything was set and ready. The rooms that the monastery provided for its students were small but shouldn’t be too cramped if it’s only two people. Unfortunately, being fancy wasn’t a luxury I could afford, and the plain table I had borrowed from the infirmary made me feel small. After some searching, I decided to use an old shawl as a makeshift tablecloth and placed the vase of violets on the center. After slicing the loaf and plating the bread, I made quick work of seeping the tea. It wasn’t as decorative as what we see in the mess hall, but it’s the thought that counts. With not much time left I swiftly attempted to fix my hair, but a soft knocking cut it short.

“(Y/N)? It’s Ashe,” Ashe spoke from the other side. In a panic I looked for a comb, but alas luck was not on my side.

“Coming!” I moved to open the door, but paused at the last second, “Hey, could you maybe, not face the door when I open it?” I asked, and Ashe’s confusion came through the door just fine despite not being able to see him.

“Uhm, sure? Can I ask why?” His voice came apprehensive.

“Just do it please” I said, and soon came shuffling from the other side of the door. With a quick glance back to assure everything was set, I cracked the door open to make sure he followed directions. Just as expected he faced the other way. His hands locked together behind his back, making his unease apparent. Cautiously I reached to cover his eyes with my hands, and despite jolting in surprise he did not pull away.

“W-what are you doing? (Y/N), is that you?” He moved to place his hands over my own, ushering me to slowly pull him backwards in a rush. Although it was clumsily, he still followed. His hands were clammy against mine, yet my condition was no better. Next to the chill night air my rose-tinted cheeks burned noticeably.

“Yes, yes” I whispered in anticipation and turned him to face the table, “Now open!”

Once he caught sight of the room it was as if he glowed. In all honesty this is possibly the first time I have seen him this happy, which made all the effort worth the prize. One step at a time he approached the table with the cheesiest grin stretching his cheeks. After a moment he reached to delicately pluck a flower from the vase.

“Oh my- what’s all this for?” He asked, lifting the violet to his nose. As he did so I maneuvered my way to serve the tea.

“For you of course” I said, handing him a now filled cup and pulling out one of the seats. He sat down obediently, much to my delight. He placed the flower back in the vase as I took my seat across the table.

“M-me?” He lifted the cup to take a sip, only to pause with it hovering near his face “I love this scent…” As he took in the scenery, I took the liberty of pouring my own cup. One look at his face gave away how touched he was, which meant that my plan was a success. Slowly he lifted the cup to his lips and contently hummed with closed eyes.

“I know you do. I did a bit of detective work in hopes you’d like it,” I said, and nudged the plate of sweetbread closer to him. He reached out to take it hesitantly. Perhaps all this made him uncomfortable? A bit pushy? As he placed the plate in front of him Ashe’s eyes seemed to dart across the room, eyeing at anything and everything not in my general direction.

“I don’t know what to say…” He said, finally looking my way “You’ve gone to all this trouble and I have nothing to give” He once again moved to pick a violet. The sight was…charming to say the least. I could only offer a supportive chuckle in response. What else could you do when laying your heart bare.

“Then don’t say anything,” With one final breath, I placed the now empty cup back on its saucer. His own gaze seemed ignorant of what was going on: unreadable. Perhaps that was a good thing; better to go in blind than already know the outcome.

“Ashe, I care about you. I want you to be happy, and I know this can’t undo all the hardship that you have had to face” Silence. With a shaky sigh I steeled myself for the worst, “But, when I thought of what I could do this is what came up. I’m no deity, but I figured this is something in my power” Good enough. As I spoke my eyes shut to gather some courage, but in the long run it was ineffective. From Ashe came no answer, not even a peep. All I could do was steel myself for rejection…until a warm hand encased my own. I peered my eyes open to see that my grip on the teacup had intensified, and two calloused hands worked to sooth my tense disposition.

“Thank you. I can say from the bottom of my heart that this makes me feel-well, loved...” One hand moved to cup my chin and lead my gaze to meet two puffy green eyes. Had he been crying?

“I’m trying to find the right words but it’s so hard,” his forehead inched to lean against my own. His eyes fluttered shut, and ever small detail from the laugh lines decorating his forehead to the minuscule healing scrap along his cheek became apparent.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I care about you, ever so much” he breathed out, and I could feel my own tears begin to streak down my cheeks. With a slight tilt I leaned in to peck his nose, something he wasn’t expecting clearly. His eyes peered to gaze into my own, and before I knew I was smiling.

“In a romantic way?” I asked teasingly, reaching up to hold the hand he settled on my cheek.

“Yes, very much so”

#fe3h ashe #ashe ubert #ashe duran #ashe x reader #ashe ubert x reader #blue lions #fe3h #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h imagines #fe3h scenarios #fe: three houses

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thepandapopo · 4 years ago

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Sylvix Week 2020 Day 1: Wedding

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

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

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

Written for Sylvix Week 2020

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if Sylvain won’t stop fidgeting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sylvain.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

“Did someone call for backup?”

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

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

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

“Then next time answer it sooner!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sylvain. I swear I’m going to-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey Fe! Marry me.”

“What?”

“Marry me!”

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

“Sylvain, this is not the time!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a beat.

And then another.

And then,

“Claude. Marry us.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“KRAKEN!”

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

“You’re my family too.”

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

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

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

“What?”

“Have you ever thought about us getting married?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You… wanted to marry me?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry. What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.”

----

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

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

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

XxXxXxXxX

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flamingo-writes · 5 years ago

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It's Always Been You - Sylvain x Reader

Summary: After being away for five years in war with your father, the war is over and your father takes you to the Church if Seiros, where you meet the friendly faces you grew up with. Specially your best friend, Sylvain.

A/N: finally, I'm posting something about Fire Emblem Three Houses 🤣🤣 Im sorry I've been inactive, I've been purposefully been inactive, my holidays are over and I wanted to fully enjoy them. But now I am back!! Also, I’m gonna be writing the date in which I post things because I lowkey dont like not remembering when I posted something.

Posted: 01.14.2020

Words: 2.4K

Warnings: none

Pacing through the wide halls of the monastery, your eyes could hardly focus on something before something else caught your attention. And walking through what felt like endless halls only made you feel more and more nervous. Following your father, a few steps ahead of you as he limped his way forward at a faster pace than yours.

“It’s weird to be somewhere with this amount of silence…” You said as your father chuckled looking back at you.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who thought about it” He said cheerfully, although you could see his smile didn’t reach his eyes.”I’m sorry for taking you to war for all those years”

“You already apologised enough times, father. It’s okay, I don’t mind” You lied, remembering all the nightmares that flashed before your eyes when you tried to sleep. The smell of blood still felt fresh on your nose and the screams and whimpers of soldiers dying around you.

“I know, kid. But it’ll always weigh my soul” He answered waiting for you to catch up with him and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Good thing is, your friends are here! So I was told by Count Galatea!”

“Ingrid is here?” Your father noticed that spark of hope in your voice.

“Dimitri, Felix and Sylvain are too”

Your heart began beating faster and stronger, as suddenly you became even more aware of your surroundings, hoping that you might see them.

However, that was not the case. You finally entered the cathedral and met the archbishop, Rhea. Feeling slightly intimidated by her status as the supreme leader of the Church of Seiros, your whole demeanour became stiff and awkward.

After welcoming your father back from the local wars happening in your hometown, your father talked to her, giving her a brief summary of how your last five years at war had been. And midway through the story, a couple of men walked inside the room Rhea and your father were talking in. Rhea greeted them as you continued to stare at everyone, not fully understanding what was going on.

Not until Rhea introduced you to Byleth, one of the teachers. Byleth was by no means a person with a lot of words. And given your shy state, neither were you. You followed them, by your father’s and Rhea’s suggestion. All the silence you had been missing while being out in the battlefield suddenly became worse than war. Silence, so much silence, you felt like your thoughts could easily echo and expose you. Not until a very familiar voice broke said silence after you walked inside one of the classrooms.

“[Name]?!” That cheerful voice brought back so many of your childhood memories, and before you could even scan the classroom, Ingrid was running towards you, hugging you tighter than ever. “I can’t believe it! It’s you!” She laughed happily. “I was afraid I’d never see you again!”

You hugged her back at once as tears gathered in your eyes, thinking how neither her voice nor her scent had changed much. As you opened your eyes, you saw a much taller Dimitri walking towards you.

“Dimitri!” You cried as you broke the hug from Ingrid and hugged the blonde. He hugged you back as once. “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown!” You sobbed, burying your face in his shoulder. “I was taller than you when I left the castle” You giggled.

“I can’t believe you’re still a crybaby” A low voice said as you looked at your side and saw a much grown Felix approaching you as well.

“And you’re still an idiot, Felix” You joked as you let go of Dimitri. “I missed you guys so fucking much” tears kept falling from your eyes. “Where’s Syl?” You asked looking around.

“Probably chasing some girls outside. Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon” Ingrid assured.

As Byleth introduced you to the rest of the class, you remained close to your friends as they did most of the talking. Recalling memories from your childhood, and through their stories, your new classmates got to know you better. Sitting in a circle on the ground in the middle of the class, you were enjoying the conversation, exchanging stories from both your childhood and the time your friends had been in the academy.

You were sitting facing the door, every now and then looking outside into the garden, noticing many other students walking and chatting. Eventually, you noticed someone walking towards the room. Instinctively, your eyes scanned said figure. And then our heart stopped.

Looking straight into his eyes, the both of you paralyzed for a brief second.

“No way!” Sylvain said shocked. The widest smile taking over his face.

Without thinking it twice, you stood up and ran towards him. All of the Blue Lions looking at you sprint, faster than they could imagine, as you ran towards the red head. Jumping into his arms, you cried his name as he swiftly caught you. Holding you tight, so tight, you could feel every bit of his chest pressed against yours. Laughing, melancholic tears falling down your eyes once more. Sylvains spun on his toes, happy to see his best friend once more.

“For the Goddess’s love, [Name]” He said putting you back on the floor, still without breaking the hug. “Do not leave me again” He said kissing the top of your head.

“[Name] and Sylvain…” Ashe asked, slightly confused. The way you had greeted your other friends was nothing compared to how you had greeted Sylvain.

“Oh, they’ve always been like that. Those two used to be always together. Whenever Slvain wasn’t chasing some girl, he was hanging out with [Name]. They were each other’s second shadow, before [Name] and her father left”

“The first few months after her departure were very rough on Sylvain…” Dimitri whispered.

“Yeah, I’d never seen him so depressed. Not even when his brother left” Ingrid added “Sylvain did try to run away and bring her back. His father was pissed at him for risking his life like that”

“After [Name] left, he became a much worse womanizer than he already was…” Felix added, looking at Sylvain, holding your head in his hands and shaking you lightly, complaining about all those years you left him.

“You think he’ll slow down a little bit now that she’s with him again?” Annette asked, not really minding about Sylvain's flirty self, but because she felt uncomfortable when he was being flirty at her.

“There’s a possibility” Dimitri whispered.

“Yeah, he’ll probably go skirt chasing as a hobby when [Name] is busy and doesn’t pay much attention to him” Ingrid said

“I’ve always said those two would end up together in the future” Felix said in a low voice.

“No way!” Ingrid laughed. “I mean, I know those two are inseparable, but there is no way in heaven or hell those two would end up together. I mean, they love each other but they also can’t quite stand each other”

“Silence” Dimitri said. “They’re coming”

“I’m sorry, that’s what you get for leaving me, darling” Sylvain said.

“You think I don’t know you?” You scoffed. “Your lame ass will be coming back to me every time a girl rejects you”

“I’ve changed” He bragged lifting his chin with pride.

“Oh, have you?” You scoffed loudly.

“I’ve mastered the art of charming women. I don’t get rejected as much as I used to”

“I’m still sure you’ll be spending most of your day nagging me”

“Of course I will!” Sylvain laughed. “My best friend is back! We have to make up for all that time lost, angel” Approaching the circle, you returned to your spot. Sylvain walked next to you and gestured Dimitri to move a little bit to a side so he could sit next to you. “So, what are we guys talking about?”

“The ball and the dancing contest” Dedue said, taking back the conversation you had before Sylvain walked in the classroom.

The ball was over all fun. Maybe not the most fun night, but surely more fun than any night you had for the last 5 years. Andnafter a very much needed break, Sylvain asked you if you wanted to wander around the monastery at night.

The idea of wandering at night added something charming and spooky to the big old building. Silence ruling over the rest of it while the ball was contained in the ball room.

As much as you wanted to actually wander around, you decided to quietly follow Sylvain who walked with long steps, knowing where he was heading to.

He took you to one of the towers in the monastery. A tall tower you knew very well for what people had been whispering in the halls.

“Can I tell you something, [Name]?” Sylvain asked.

“Sure”

“After you left…You are my best friend, the best of them, okay? You know it” He began awkwardly “And after you left, I felt so lonely. I’d never felt like that before”

“I know. I did too” You said looking at him tenderly as he looked up at the sky. You noticed the rise and fall of his chest, different to how it normally is. He’s nervous, you thought. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it, just like you’d always do whenever you knew he was feeling uneasy.

“It was...so different to me. Living in a world without you. It somehow felt like starting over. I guess, after you left, I started dating women like a mad man. I guess, I was looking for someone to fill that hole you left in my chest. But it didn’t matter how many girls I went out with and how many I met, no one even got close to it”

“Syl…” You whispered. “I’m here now. We’re back together at being partners in crime, hey?”

“Partners…” Sylvain whispered looking at your hand on his.

“Syl” You purred. “I know why you brought me here…” At once he looked into your eyes. Slightly terrified. “I’m not dumb, Syl. I’ve heard the stories about this. People come to this spot and make a wish together. They say the Goddess will listen and help said wish come true. It’s romantic, it’s clearly a tradition meant for lovers…”

“[Name], I-I…” Sylvain stuttered nervously.

“I’d wish to never feel lonely again,” You said. “The day I left, it was the worst day of my life. I cried every night for several weeks. I wanted to be back home, with my friends. Especially you, Syl. I’d dream of you every single day. At least for a year. You were always on my mind, and I liked to look up at the stars and think you’d be looking at the same stars as I did”

“You’ll never be lonely again” Sylvain whispered, holding your hand and pulling it towards him, kissing your knuckles.

“[Name]” The way his voice whispered your name in such a tender way, melted your heart. You looked into his honey eyes, thinking if they had always been so gorgeous. “I’m a bit afraid of saying this, but I have to, otherwise I’ll go crazy if I keep bottling it in” Knowing what he was going to say, you blinked, your eyes inviting him to get closer. “[Name]” Cupping your face into his free hand. “I think I’m in love with you”

“Coming from such a casanova, that’s a little bit hard to believe, Sylvain” You said witty.

“After you left, I realized it’s always been you. You’re the reason why I can’t settle down with a girl. Because neither of them are you” He said leaning closer and bumping his forehead against yours.

“Prove it” You whispered closing your eyes.

“I’ve known you for as long as I can remember" He began, he leaned back, sighing in disappointment, since you thought he was going to kiss you "Life without you is no life at all, that much I know. You wished to never feel lonely, right? I will not let you feel that way again. Never. My wish is to never stray from you again. It happened once, and I’m sure I don’t want it to happen again”

“Make sure to not wish for something you’ll regret, Syl” You whispered.

“How could I regret feeling alive and full? I’d give up the world for you” His eyes met yours in the sweetest of stares.

“How come you never came for me while I was away” looking away, you tried smiling sarcastically.

“I tried" He answered at once "You can ask Ingrid. I tried at least three times. Those three I ended up locked up in my room for days"

The look you gave Sylvain, incredulous, made him lose his calm posture and instead turn defensive.

"Back then I was weak and I was scared. But now, there’s nothing in this world that could stop me. I’ve grown, and I’ve changed. And if you asked me to, I’d keep changing, and never look at another woman, ever”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, take it to that extreme…" You giggled, slightly amused "You’re a grown up, Syl. You’re free to do whatever you like" looking away from him, you stared at your feet, thinking of your next words "I’d like to ask you to be gentle with me. Don’t break my heart, please”

You looked up to your friend. He sighed deeply, a gentle smile on his lips as he leaned closer, bumping his forehead against yours again.

“I won’t. Your heart’s safe with me. I promise, [Name]” His velvet voice purred your ears as you closed your eyes, hoping that he'd finally lean in into the kiss you'd been craving.

“I love you, Syl” You whispered as he leaned closer.

“I love you too” Sylvain muttered, his breath hitting your lips, and your heart racing in anticipation.

He closed the distance, a bit afraid and insecure. A million thoughts came to his mind before sealing the kiss. He was going to kiss his best friend, and he had just confessed to his best friend. And yet, the moment his lips.met yours, his mind went blank. His heart and your breathing was everything he could hear. Your scent tangling with his was everything he could smell. Despite the cool wind howling, your warmth was everything he could feel. Melting into your lips, you kissed him back.

#sylvain x reader #fire emblem sylvain #sylvain gautier #sylvain jose gautier #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem imagines #feth #fe3h #fire emblem x reader #I should be heading to school by this hour #but I am here posting #nkjdnckc #next one coming is one about dimitri #can u tell I took the blue lions route

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pangtasias-atelier · 4 years ago

Note

Drabble (TW: Imprisonment) - Ashe gets captured by the Empire. To prevent him from escaping, Hubert orders that Ashe gets forcefed and fattened up until he's too big to escape. Ashe has no choice but to eat and eat, getting fatter every day until the seams on his clothes start splitting. He desperately hopes for the Professor or his friends to save him!

Ashe is an absolute cutey so this was fun to write.

Kinda went off at the beginning with Edelgard and Hubert lmao, but I hope the fat and stuffing goodness makes up for it!

Hope you enjoy!

______

“Hubert,” The waning moon aiding Edelgard in her approach, the sudden appearance of Her Majesty even throws Hubert off guard, Edelgard the only one to ever do so. Her and their prior professor, but neither Hubert or Edelgard have the option to concern themselves over such trivialities as mentor figures. “How many forces were lost?” The question is as simple as straightforward, Edelgard disregarding all notions as subtlety when in the presence of Hubert. The same could not be said for their ex-professor, a twinkle of regret shoved back down by Edelgard’s own fortitude.

“Ah, Lady Edelgard,” Hubert’s hair is more frazzled, a tinge off his usual part, strands of hair standing out of place where nothing but perfection was allowed for. “We fortunately suffered minimal losses. I’ll personally hand you the report when we have all the numbers figured out,” The truth of Fort Merceus being in the Resistance’s hands tremains unsaid, the Adrestian empire’s retreat easy to understand said fact.

“You usually have the report finished by this time, Hubert,”

“My apologies, Lady Edelgard. My own incompetence once again-”

“Hubert,” A hand on his shoulder silences him. “You saw the professor again, didn’t you,” Eyes cast to the ground, Hubert nearly has the gall to reassure. Remembering his place, and the place of Edelgard, he simply sighs instead.

“Yes, but that is unimportant. During the retreat, our forces were able to capture one of the enemy’s soldiers,”

“Ashe,” Edelgard sighs. “Make sure he is to not be tortured and have a room prepared for him,” Edelgard trudges off, mind burdened with heavy thoughts.

“Lady Edelgard! Just because he was a former member of our class...,” Byleth being responsible for said feat remains unsaid. “We should take whatever info we could possibly get from him,”

“Hubert, what I say is final. I will not have you bring harm to one who is already unarmed and captured,” Edelgard sighs, tossing a forlorn look at Hubert before heading off once more. “Simply ensure that he cannot escape,”

“Of course, Lady Edelgard,” Refraining from shaking his head, the act beneath him, Hubert walks off. First to the attendants in the west wing to order a room prepared at once. Then to the prison cells to get Ashe. Neither servant nor guard offer any rebuttal to Hubert’s strange commands, everyone knowing not to upset the lethal mage.

Blindfolded and arms bound as instructed, Ashe calmly walks wherever his captor takes him, knowing not to upset the ones who hold his life in their palms. The walk seemingly endless, the twists and turns of their winding trek all blur together. Suddenly stopping, the jolt of a push nearly tosses Ashe to the floor, awkwardly stumbling forward to not fall face flat. The door closed, Ashe blinks as his eyes adjust to the removal of his blindfold. A grandiose furnished room standing in front of him, Ashe has no time to think before hands work on his arm cuffs.

“Lady Edelgard has graciously allowed for your stay here,” Ashe instinctively rubs his wrists as Hubert frees them. “If you take advantage of Lady Edelgard’s kindness, then I will be there to make sure you never do so again,”

“But-I?” Ashe stutters, still shocked from the change of scenery.

“Call it a favor for an old classmate,” Hubert retorts, his face clearly showing his displeasure. Walking off, Hubert locks the door behind him. Keeping the key to himself, he commands the guards to not let anyone through without his own express permission.

Ashe left alone in his grand new room, the ostentatious furniture leaves him feeling out of place. Still a prisoner bright in his mind, he tentatively heads to the adjoined bathroom to finally freshen up, the grime of the day killing him.

Already no way to escape, Ashe thinks nothing of Hubert’s extreme methods. Already assuming for Hubert to have placed them, he is unaware of Hubert's true plot to ensure he never escapes.

The day arriving far sooner than pleasantly should be possible, Ashe’s weary bones crack and sigh as he stretches. Fine satin sheets under him, the nice nature of his prison cell still makes him feel on edge. Sitting up, the loose fabric for pajamas he had found in the drawers hangs off his skinny body. Lean muscle in his arms from drawing bows so often, the rest of his body has minimal musculature. Upon standing up, Ashe finds the door opening.

Hubert stepping in, he drags in a cart behind him as he closes the door. Unceremoniously, he pushes it towards Ashe, Hubert refusing to budge from his spot in front of the door. “Your breakfast,”

“All this?” Eyes agape, Ashe fervently removes the several cloches keeping his food warm. An omelette, sausages, bacon, pancakes, toast with jam, and hash browns, the meal is the definition of hearty with each having its own sizable portion.

“You would do well to not underestimate Lady Edelgard’s hospitality. And to appreciate it,” Heading off once more, Hubert locks the door.

Ashe once again alone, his stomach grumbles as the intoxicating aroma of the breakfast wafts its way into his nostrils. Having not eaten since his capture, a small nibble from each dish yields no possibility of poison. Starting with the omelette, Ashe drenches it and the hash browns in ketchup. Plenty of water to wash it down, his hungry state easily finishes half of each before moving on to the bacon and sausage. Grabbing a piece of each, the crispy texture of the bacon assaults his hungry tongue. Eating the sausage, the juicy sausage easily goes down his throat, Ashe rubbing his stomach. Glancing down, Ashe finds a small tum where once there was a flat stomach. Checking back to the plates, he sheepishly rubs his head at seeing a good chunk of the feast already gone. Reaching for a slice of toast, the fresh strawberry jam dances on his taste buds, the warm crunchy toast delicious just as the rest. The heaping stack of pancakes thankfully already cut into pieces for him, Ashe drowns them in the sweet syrup. Grabbing them with his fork, the soft chewy batter ends up devoured, Ashe finishing two whole pancakes before giving up.

Resting back on his bed, his stuffed stomach is slightly distended. Protruding a bit, the huge shirt he has offers the perfect amount of give to not bring him any more discomfort. Rubbing the small mass, Ashe lets out a yawn. Drowsily smacking his lips, Ashe contentedly falls back into the cushiony land of dreams.

Right to assume no poison had been put into his food, Ashe was simply lacking in knowledge of the magical arts. His food indeed tampered, Hubert had messed with it to ensure as much fattening as possible. Magic only able to go so far, the effect wasn’t anything obscene, but it did help expedite results.

Asleep, Ashe is unawate as a thin layer of pudge forms on his stomach, the once flat abdomen now sporting a sliver of flab. His thighs and arms ever so slightly thickening up, the effect takes hold of Ashe.

Happy to snooze away with a full stomach, the slamming of the door finally wakes him up. Groggily looking to and fro, he quickly sits up from Hubert visiting him once more. A bit more give where there once was none, Ashe reaches a hand to his stomach. Before he can mull on his thoughts Hubert speaks up,

“Your lunch is here,” The cart containing only a singular dish, the chicken salad sounds like a nice respite for Ashe despite his still engorged stomach. Hubert spots the still full breakfast cart. “Hmm, I see someone was unappreciative of their breakfast,” The door locked behind him, Hubert grabs the plate of hash browns. “Well, I’m sure a guest of Lady Edelgard would be a fool to not enjoy all of her gifts, wouldn’t you agree, Ashe?” Grabbing some with the fork, Huberts stands at the ready.

“Wh-?’ Unable to answer the rhetorical question, Ashe finds a fork of hash browns crammed into his mouth.

“We can’t be leaving any scraps left,” Ashe slightly struggling, Hubert puts the plat back down. Producing rope, he ties Ashe’s arms to the bedpost. Grabbing the plate once more, he sits beside Ashe, vigilant on his thrashing feet. The hash browns slowly going down Ashe’s throat, Hubert washes it down for him by pouring the cup of water down his gullet. Ashe breathing through his nose now, his stomach gurgles as more food still finds its way down his throat. The omelette going next, soon it's the sausage, then the bacon, next the toast, before finally, Hubert is cramming the pancakes down Ashe’s throat.

His cheek positively spherical from so much food crammed in his maw at once, dribbles of the syrup trickles down his chin. Huffing, Ashe groans as the last remnants of breakfast end up in his stomach along with the rest. Arms untied, all he can think of is rubbing his distended gut, his shirt lifting up from it.

“From now on, make sure that you finish all your meals before the next one,” Already leaving, Hubert is at the doorway. “Or we’ll have another repeat of this,”

Rubbing his gut, Ashe simply nods in bed, his jaw too tired to form any words. Left alone, time trickles slowly by, his stuffed gut taking up all his thoughts.

Glancing at the plate of salad, Ashe’s stomach yells at him for even looking at the food. Hubert’s words relaying themself to Ashe, he groans as he stands up. Heavy, tired feet hitting the floor, one hand rests on his paunch as he grabs the plate. Weighing his options, he takes a bit. About to spit it out, Ashe clenches a hand over his mouth, mentally willing himself to chew. Huffing, he drenches the salad with ranch, hoping the extra flavor will help him along. Pinching his nose, Ashe nibbles at the salad. Eyes clenched, each bite is a promise Ashe makes to his stomach to be the last one. A clear lie, but the mental effort needed to finish is taxing.

Fork scraping porcelain, Ashe drops his fork. He rests back down on his mattress. Rubbing his gut, the pounding sensation of being ridiculously overstuffed assaults him.

Resting, time seems to go slowly enough until the door opens up. Hubert bringing in another cart, Ashe nearly feels like losing the day’s meals from thinking about more food. “Hmm, you’re learning. I’ll be back in the morning,” Is all Hubert comments as he takes the prior cart and its plate back.

Ashe figures on taking a nap before eating his dinner, enough time thankfully offered to him.

By the time Ashe eats his dinner and crashes back into bed, the morning helps offer a new sense of clarity. Still stuffed, the noticeable fat on his body makes it clear to the tampering of his food. Clothes still thankfully loose, Ashe offers a groan as it becomes apparent that yesterday was not a one time thing, a heavy breakfast brought to him by Hubert.

Stuffing himself round the clock, Hubert’s chilling attitude and thinly veiled threats gets to Ashe every time. The effects of his food clearly grow more visible by the day on Ashe’s short body. Always skinny, the past feels so long ago as more and more flab stockpiles itself onto his frame.

A flat stomach turns into a distended little gut. Chunky thighs and arms to go along with it, Ashe had assumed it to be the end of his growth. But the meals simply kept up and so did Ashe’s ballooning figure. A potbelly a permanent fixture to his abdomen, even that was a stepping stone for Ashe’s obese body. Word of the Resistance absolutely unknown to him, Ashe has no idea of the current state of the war, his growing waistline concerning him.

Currently sitting in bed, Ashe had easily devoured the monumental feast for breakfast. His gut flowing onto his colossal thighs, the rolls of lard rise and fall with each wheeze he gives. Resting a hand on his gut, the other rubs it, unable to soothe the entire expanse of it. His large breasts rest on top of his stomach, his man boobs splaying to the side as they sag. Wide, doughy bags for arms, the wings for fat sag as well. His wide, fat ass oozing behind him, Ashe’s pear shape had become quickly apparent. Thighs nearly the width of the doorway, escaping was quickly making itself an invalid option. His massive thighs unable to spread much at all, the layers and rolls of flab ooze and meld together.

His lended clothes were torn long ago; the only fabric to fit Ashe now is a brand new pair of light blue boxers. Upon receiving the expansive fabric, the idea of needing so much was ridiculous, yet now he finds them to be on the tighter end of the spectrum, his ass filling out the back and falling out the bottom and the top.

The door opening without announcement, Ashe groans, his stomach still digesting the morning’s meal. Hibert brings another cart of food. He leaves it beside Ashe and leaves with a simple scoff at Ashe’s corpulent state.

A meaty hand on the bed, Ashe grunts as he pushes himself up. Arms burning, straining from doing so, he flops back down on his bed. Entire body jiggling, Ashe's cheeks follow suit as he wheezes. One half of his mind is concerned about his meal, the other half is concerned with his friends finding him before he grows too fat to move, Ashe's titanic size not far from reaching that reality.

#my writing #fat!ashe #fat!threehouses #male weight gain

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argent-vulpine · 4 years ago

Text

The Queen’s Scheme(r)s

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Rating: G

Characters: Yuri/F!Byleth/Claude, feat. Ignatz

Chapter Two: Sitting Pretty (As a Picture)

Read it on AO3

Byleth shifted uncomfortably in the seat, keeping her face as still as possible. To either side of her stood Yuri and Claude, each with a hand on her shoulders. She wasn’t sure if they were more uncomfortable than she was, but she imagined standing for as long as they had been was at least equally so.

Ignatz sat before them, his deft hands brushing paint onto the canvas, eyes occasionally squinting as he compared his work to the scene itself, making sure the lighting was right. They’d already sat for him before, to get his preliminary sketches out of the way, and now it was time for him to do the official painting.

The archbishop fought back a smirk at her luck, having claimed Ignatz as a Knight of Seiros before Lorenz could recruit him. She hadn’t forbidden him from taking other jobs, but he now lived at the monastery, and his primary duties now were to be her official artist. And not just for important things like this, but also to just capture life at the monastery: the way the sun set on the hills, the cats lounging in the sunlight, the dogs playing in the streets… and the students themselves, laughing and going about their days.

Reopening the academy had been one of her first goals as newly-confirmed archbishop, although she had made some distinctive changes. Students were no longer sorted by what part of Fódlan, instead being sorted at seemingly random, both to foster relations between the three former nations… and to ensure a healthy mix of skills, since each class worked as a unit on missions.

Another quite major change she’d made had been opening the doors to students from outside Fódlan. Petra had been the first to reach out about it, the Queen of Brigid wanting this new age of peace to broker stronger, healthier relations between their lands, and Claude hadn’t been far behind with talks of having Almyran students.

Change was coming, whether Fódlan was ready for it or not.

And part of that change came in the form of this portrait, depicting herself in her Archbishop regalia, flanked on either side by her husbands in their noble attire. Knowing she needn’t stay perfectly still, Byleth took a brief moment to glance first at one, then the other, feeling their comforting warmth. They returned her glances with soft smiles and gentle squeezes of their hands before their attention was drawn back to Ignatz.

Byleth lost track of time at some point. They’d all conversed for a while in soft tones, but the mostly empty room had echoed with their voices, and they’d subsided when it was clear that it was affecting the painter’s concentration.

A soft clatter brought her back to the present, her eyes snapping toward the sound, tensing up beneath her husbands’ hands before she realized it was Ignatz plunking his brush into a glass of water, a satisfied smile on his face.

“It still has to dry, of course, but it’s finished!” he announced, a bashfully proud look on his face.

She did not run… but it was a near thing, her pace quick enough that Claude and Yuri both had barely registered she’d moved from her seat before she was halfway to the painter. Byleth was a mixture of nervous and excited; she knew that Ignatz was an excellent artist, regardless of his self-deprecating during his academy days. And once she saw the painting itself, she knew she’d done well to commission him for the task.

It was, in a word, beautiful. Breathtakingly so. He’d managed to capture a serene, compassionate look in her features despite the expressionless mask she so often wore. She looked regal, more like the queen she was meant to be than the one she often felt she was. Her tactician and spymaster flanked her sides, looking down at her with such love and affection that she almost couldn’t breathe, seeing it depicted in this manner.

“I took care on the detail of the rings,” Ignatz said at her elbow, giving her a soft smile. “I figured you’d want it to be clear that the three of you are properly together.”

Now that he’d pointed it out, she could see it. She wore a band from each of her husbands, while they wore one from her. She’d had a jeweler recreate her mother’s ring for them, keeping the too-small original for herself, on display in their suite beneath a portrait of Jeralt. The light hit the stones in a way that made them sparkle, drawing the eye to their existence while not distracting from the larger image.

Yes, this is what she wanted the church to represent. Love and acceptance without borders – political or geographical.

On a whim, she turned and hugged Ignatz, ignoring his protests at the supposed impropriety and the sudden wobbling of the adornment on her head. “It’s gorgeous, Ignatz,” she said, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “I love it. What do you think?” she asked of her husbands, who’d come at a more leisurely pace and had been studying the painting in silence.

“Excellent use of color,” was Yuri’s first comment. “The way the light comes through, it makes Byleth look radiant.”

“As befitting a goddess.” Claude scrutinized the painting as well, leaning in so close his nose was in danger of touching the paint. When Ignatz nervously cleared his throat, Claude grinned and backed away a hair, straightening up. “It really is a masterpiece, Ignatz. This will look stunning in the great hall.”

“I’ll be working on the copies once this one is safe to move. You’ll have them in no time!” he promised.

They’d agreed that Fhirdiad, Derdriu, and Enbarr would all receive smaller version to hang in their main halls. Technically, those palaces all now belonged to Byleth, though the reality was that she had staffed them with trusted allies – her former students – to begin the reparations and ensure a smooth unification. She didn’t have the time to spend traveling between them as often as currently needed, but she had already scheduled a progress around the country… with Seteth’s approval, of course.

Eventually, Dimitri and Edelgard might be allowed back in their traditional residences, but as dukes, not king or emperor. First, though… first they had a lot to make up for. The people of Fódlan weren’t likely to forget that there had been a war, after all.

Ignatz busied himself putting away his paints and brushes, settling them into the case that had been made special for that purpose. He’d originally claimed it was far too grand a gift, when Byleth had presented him with it, but she’d pointed out that as her official artist, he needed to represent her well. That had been enough to get him to subside.

When he was done, she placed a hand on his shoulder, gaining his attention. “Give me some time to take off this regalia and join us for tea?” she asked, a soft smile lifting the corners of her lips.

“O-of course! I’d be honored!”

“Relax, Ignatz!” Claude laughed and clapped a hand on the young man’s other shoulder. “This is Byleth, your old professor. You don’t have to be so formal with her. Or with us,” he added, gesturing to himself and Yuri. “We haven’t changed just because we have fancy new titles.”

The painter didn’t look too convinced. One day, perhaps he’d learn. And she knew he’d relax once they were actually having tea, away from the potential prying eyes that wandered around the church. It was difficult to relax and be yourself around so many people, she knew. Once they were in clothes that didn’t immediately remind him of their elevated statuses, he’d be much more at ease.

“You have time to put your supplies away. I’ll send Cyril to fetch you when we’re ready.”

“Right! I’ll see you soon, then!” He gave her a broad grin, relaxing a little, before snapping the case closed and picking it up with ease.

Once he was safely out of the room, the door closed behind him and no one else in sight, she flung her arms around her husbands, drawing them to her for a hug and planting kisses on their cheeks. “You both look amazing,” she said, voice soft. “But seriously, let’s go get changed. This headdress is heavy.”

#yurileth #claudeleth #yurilaudeleth #polyamory #yuri leclerc #claude von riegan #byleth eisner #ignatz victor #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h

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mommymooze · 4 years ago

Text

Healing Fool

You hang out in the training grounds when it is your free time. Because it is place that people are always getting hurt and you liked to practice healing injuries. Caspar would get beat up because he likes to pick fights with people that use sharp pointy things even though he is a brawler. Felix caused injuries multiple times to multiple people. Sometimes the knights would join in with the students. Giving them tips and busted lips.

“Hey Ignatz. Want me to heal that shoulder.” You’d offer, “I think you’ve over worked it there.”

Ignatz has never turned down your kindness. He sits on the bench in front of you as you work your healing magic, reducing the pain in his shoulder from overworking during bow training. Then as an added bonus you massage his shoulder and upper arm gently with your expert fingers.

Ingrid has been sparring with Dimitri and she doesn’t hesitate to sit next to you and have you take away the soreness to her forearms and ribs that the house leader has dished out upon her. She practically melts under your shoulder massage. “Hit the sauna and drink lots and lots of water!” You tell her as she heads out.

Professor Byleth is next. She’s been sparring with Felix for a few hours now. You call her over to take a seat. You work on healing her right arm where Felix has been picking on it all day. Stretching and working on the muscles in her right shoulder she finally can relax after having been sparring for so long. You shake her water skin at her, reminding her to fill it up and drink lots of water.

Felix is the last one with you in the training grounds. He’s still hitting the training dummies across the room.

“Enough Felix, come here please.” You encourage him.

“You’re an idiot for doing this for us.” He grumbles as he sits down with his back to you.

You push him forward stretching his back out as you massage and heal his shoulders. Sitting him up you hold your waterskin out to him, filled with fresh cool water. He takes a few healthy drinks, then leans back against you. “Stupid.” He mumbles.

You work on his shoulders, his arms. Carefully massaging his forearms, you get to his hands. Massaging the palm of his right hand you then kiss each one of his fingertips. You do the same with his other hand.

When you are finished he sits up, turns and puts his arms around you, burying his face in your neck.

��If it means I can take care of you, I will be your idiot every day.” You tell your stubborn swordloving boyfriend.

#fe3h #fe3h x reader #fe16 #feth #Fire Emblem Three Houses #felix hugo fraldarius #felix hugo fraldarius x reader

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crackimagines · 5 years ago

Text

A Rough Start (FE: Three Houses Short Fic)

Byleth-Sama: Love is War (Part 1)

-----

Part Listings Here!

All AU’s involved listed here!

-----

With the ball quickly approaching, Sara and Megumi have a person in mind to ask to the dance. What they quickly realize is that they want to ask the same man, and they’re about to turn Garreg Mach Monastery into a battlefield.

----

Afternoon...

[A Gentle Breeze - Fire Emblem: Three Houses]

(Seteth) “And that concludes are meeting for this week. You are dismissed.”

Everyone got up and walked out the room.

Byleth headed back to his office, Manuela and Hanneman to theirs, as Sara, Doomguy, Megumi, Towa, and Angelica walked out of the building.

Sara sighed while rubbing her head.

(Sara) “Ugh, the White Heron Cup, huh?”

(Towa) “Are you not excited by it, Sara?”

(Sara) “Not in the slightest! We gotta set up all the decorations for something that’ll last only the afternoon! Plus, we gotta see the kids do some probably boring dance.”

(Megumi) “I think it sounds fun! I can’t wait to see what kind of dances are on display!”

(Towa) “I agree with Professor Sakura! It’s a good way to see Fodlan’s culture after all!”

(Megumi) “What do you think, Slayer?”

Doomguy shrugged, indicating that these sorts of events weren’t really his thing.

(Sara) “The only thing it’s going to remind me is of the upcoming ball and how dull that night is going to be...”

(Megumi) “I’m sure there will be a guy nice enough for you to dance with, Sara!”

(Sara) “Hopefully.”

(Angelica) “Frankly, I’m happy you are taking all the guys. I’ll be going for all the cute girls that’ll show up. Heh, I wonder if I can impress anyone enough to-”

Towa hit Angelica’s head with a clipboard.

(Towa) “No hitting on ANYONE, Angie! We talked about this!”

(Angelica) “Ow, okay okay! Well anyways, who’s going to be telling the Houses this information?”

(Sara) “I got an appointment with my beer can after that meeting, so...bye!”

Sara quickly walked away back to her room.

(Towa) “Well, I guess I-”

Doomguy’s hand was put in front of her and shook his head, and pointed towards himself. Once he waved goodbye to everyone, he went to the classrooms.

(Angelica) “So, Megunee. Who’re you goin’ with?”

(Megumi) “I don’t know yet. I’m sure I’ll think of someone later tonight.”

...

Once the classroom representatives read the paper that was going to describe how their next few weeks were going to go, they voiced their opinions.

(Kazuma) “Ugh great. A ball.”

(Aqua) “What? A NEET like you can’t stomach interaction with other peo-”

(Kazuma) “STOP CALLING ME A NEET YOU BITCH!”

(Akira) “Well, I guess there are worse ways to spend a night.”

(Rean) “I bet everyone will be scrambling to get a partner soon!”

(Yu) “That’ll be exciting.”

(Minako) “Oh, I can’t wait!”

(Minato) “It’s not possible to skip this, is it?”

(Kazuma) “I’m with Minato on this one. Can we?”

Doomguy shook his head no.

(Minako) “Don’t spoil the fun on this you guys! When is the next time we’re going to get to attend something like this?”

(Akira) “She’s got a point.”

(Morgana) “Plus, it’d be remiss for us to miss a chance to attend a fancy ball! We get to work on our people skills!”

(Kazuma) “With stuffy nobles! We had to deal with them a lot last time, and that wasn’t pleasant! I got better things to do that night than hang around a buncha assholes!”

(Yu) “...Pot calling the kettle black there, Kazuma-”

(Kazuma) “And YOU be quiet! I don’t have a bunch of girls surrounding me like you all do! IT’S NOT FAIR!”

(Rean) “...We do?”

Akira, Yu, and Minato shrugged.

(Aqua) “In any case, we should go tell our groups this stuff, yeah?”

Everyone nodded.

(Minako) “We’ll catch ya tomorrow!”

Everyone went their separate ways. Kazuma grumbled under his breath as he walked with Aqua.

(Aqua) “You can’t be shut in all the time! If it’ll get you out, then I’ll take pity and take you to dance with a godde-”

(Kazuma) “I’d rather die.”

(Sothis) “As would I.”

(Kazuma) “FUCKIN’ JESUS!”

Both Aqua and Kazuma were startled by Sothis appearing in front of them.

(Aqua) “Don’t scare us like tha-...Where’s Byleth?”

(Sothis) “That child is doing paperwork currently. I am in no mood to rest, so I thought I might as well join you idiots. Now, what’s this ball I’m hearing so much about?”

(Kazuma) “Tch, well you see...”

...

(Sothis) “...What kind of asinine reasoning is that? That you’ll be miserable if you do not have someone to dance with? Just strut your moves as you see fit!”

(Kazuma) “Psh, I wish we could, then maybe I could have a bit of fun! But no, this isn’t some nightclub, it’s some boring ass ball dancing!”

(Aqua) “Ugh, I’ve had enough of your whining. I’m off to drink.”

(Kazuma) “I hope you have a hangover!”

Late Evening...

[Evening Moments - Trails of Cold Steel]

Sara slammed her mug down onto the table.

(Sara) “Ah, that’s a nice cold brew you got us tonight, Manuela!”

(Manuela) “Ugh, I’m going to need it to forget about this week. That ball is going to be a sad reminder of my life...”

(Sara) “Here here...”

(Aqua) “Yeesh, everyone’s talkin’ doom and gloom about this damn ball! You girls just need to relax alright?! We can have fun dancing together!”

(Manuela) “Oh sweetie, you don’t understand. When you’re as old as us, you’re going to be lamenting this too...”

(Aqua) “I’m older than the both of you!”

(Sara) “Right right...goddess stuff and all that.”

Manuela and Sara chugged their beer.

(Aqua) “Well fine, I’ll humor you two then! Who are you going to ask to dance?”

(Manuela) “Well, there was this cute knight I saw earlier today. He seemed like a nice enough fellow. What about you, Sara?”

(Sara) “Someone who’d dance with me regardless of my habits...”

She considered her options. Frankly not a lot of people in the Monastery could stand her, and those who did were far too young. But...

(Sara) “Aha!”

Manuela and Aqua looked at her with a curious expression.

(Sara) “I know just the man!”

...

Megumi had just finished her paperwork for the night and was headed to her rooms before she almost ran into Kasumi.

(Kasumi) “Oh, please excuse me, Sakura-sensei!”

(Megumi) “Hello, Yoshizawa. I’m sorry I almost hit you there!”

(Kasumi) “That’s a lot of papers, do you need some help?”

(Megumi) “No I-...Actually, it’d be a big help if you could, thank you!”

Splitting the papers they walked to Megumi’s room.

(Megumi) “So, are you excited for the ball that’s coming soon?”

(Kasumi) “Indeed! Doing gymnastics is a bit different from dancing, but the footing seems similar, so I’m excited to try! Have we elected a representative for the White Heron Cup yet?”

(Megumi) “No, that’s something Sara, Slayer, and I need to discuss still.”

(Kasumi) “I see, well I hope you choose well. By the way, what about you? Are you excited?”

(Megumi) “Quite a bit, actually! I’m interested in seeing how the students dance, and how Fodlan dancing is compared to Japanese. Hah, as for asking someone to the dance, that’s an ongoing problem.”

(Kasumi) “Well, you’re a very kind person, Sakura-sensei! I’m sure that anyone would be more than happy to!”

(Megumi) “Hah, thank you Yoshizawa. To be frank, it’s not a matter of getting anyone that’s bothering me, it’s just having the right person. These sorts of things should be special, you know? O-Oh! Listen to me ramble, sorry! Thank you for helping out.”

Kasumi gave Megumi the papers.

(Kasumi) “Anytime! I hope you find the person you’re looking for!”

Kasumi bowed and walked away, Megumi opening her door and putting the papers on her desk.

(Megumi) “Well, if I had to choose anyone it’d be...-”

...

Megumi went back to the offices and saw Byleth’s door spilling candlelight beneath the door.

She was about to knock before Sara came around the corner.

(Sara) “Oh, heya Megunee. What’re you doin’?”

(Megumi) “Hello Sara. I was about to ask Byleth something, but its not that important. I’ll just come back later.”

(Sara) “Neither’s mine. It was just going to be about the Ball.”

(Megumi) “What a coincidence! That’s what I was going to talk to him about.

(Sara & Megumi) “...”

(Sara) “Were you about to-”

(Megumi) “-Ask him to the ball?”

!!!

(Sara) “Sis, I’m gonna need you to stand aside.”

(Megumi) “Huh?”

(Sara) “I need this more than you do, Megunee! You don’t understand the struggles I’ve been through!”

(Megumi) “...O-Oh! You have feelings for him then? I apologize, I’ll let you ask-”

(Sara) “HUH?! N-NO I DON’T! I WAS JUST GOING TO SEE IF HIS LONELY ASS NEEDED A GIRL LIKE ME!”

(Megumi) “...But didn’t you just-”

(Sara) “Alright, that’s it! KNOW WHAT?! I THINK I GOT A BETTER IDEA! HOW ABOUT WE LET HIM CHOOSE?!”

Megumi didn’t quite understand what Sara was going on about but...

Losing to Sara on this didn’t sit quite right with her. Regardless, Megumi agreed.

(Megumi) “Alright then, that’s fine with me.”

(Sara) “We’ll see who ends up the victor! It’s going to be me!”

Sara stormed away while Megumi stood there confused for a moment before she registered what she really meant.

(Megumi) “Oooooh! Hmph! Fine! If she’s going to act like that, then I’ll make sure not to fall that easily either! This means war, Sara!”

Byleth was inside doing paperwork. He was only half paying attention to the conversation while Sothis went outside to see what was going on. She was laughing hysterically when she came back in.

(Byleth) “What was going on out there?”

(Sothis) “Oh nothing. Just a lover’s dispute.”

(Byleth) “Whoever they are, they sounded cross.”

(Sothis) Oh sweet child, you have NO idea of what’s coming...

[Love Dramatic - Love is War]

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sabineelectricheart · 4 years ago

Text

A Room Full of Clothes

Summary: Byleth is evicted from her apartment. Dimitri is ready to help her.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 4800

Notes: I wouldn’t call it fluff. God, no. But it’s kinda cute, in a way. I hope you like it.

The sun shone brightly over the edges of the Gronder Field as a new day begins in Remire. The citizens start their gruelling commute to Garreg Mach early, not to be late for their jobs in the city.

“Okay, I’m here!” Byleth wiggles an arm through the sleeve of her jacket before settling into the couch with the rest of her roommates. “I’m in a bit of rush, but I’m here, I’m ready and I’m ready to listen. Now, will you tell us why you’ve called this emergency meeting?”

Annette fidgets on the spot, standing in the centre of the living room. Her doe-like blue eyes flicker between the remaining three residents. Felix, Ingrid and Sylvain uneasily avoid their friend’s gaze. In fact, they avoid looking at anything other than the walls of their apartment.

Byleth furrows her brow, narrowing her eyes in question to their strange behaviour.

“What’s going on?” Byleth begins slowly.

When none of them dares to make eye-contact, she turns to Felix, who sits closest to her on the couch.

“Don’t look at me.” The bluenette huffs, throwing his hands up defensively and with the usual angry edge to his voice. “I am not the one who called this little sham of a meeting, Annette did.”

The man looks pointedly at their roommate standing, urging her to get over whatever it was. Felix was never a patient person.

Byleth frowns, turning her attention back to the redhead who is nervously gnawing at her lower lip. The sinking feeling in her gut tells her nothing good is going to come from this “emergency meeting”, and something tells her, from the way her roommates are refusing to make eye contact, there was nothing last minute about this gathering.

“Byleth, you know you’re my best friend, and a very good friend to all of us!” She says the latter in one rushed breath.

“Why do I get the feeling like you’re all about to breakup with me?” The woman in question mutters, earning herself a snort from Sylvain for the trouble. She, then, tries to catch Ingrid’s and Felix’s eyes, but they were much too busy staring at the carpet.

Annette does not hear her, or does not care to, and continues to trample over her own words.

“We were thinking, with the end of our school year and everything coming up so soon this summer. Oh, this isn’t easy!” She stutters, fingers fumbling together.

The sight makes Byleth uncomfortable and she frowns. Cold dread rushes up her spine. “What’s going on?”

Felix sighs. “Come on, Annette. Just spit it out! It’s just Byleth, for the Goddess’ sake!”

“We were wondering if you’re considering moving in with Dimitri?” The young physicist blurts out.

A heavy silence falls over the five, all sitting uncomfortably next to each other, with the exception of Annette, who had the misfortune of stand before them. Her fists balls up tightly, her eyes quickly scanning Byleth’s usually neutral face in a sad effort to read her thoughts.

The blue-haired schoolteacher breaks the silence with a nervous chuckle, waiting for them to tell her at any moment this is all some joke. When no one says anything after another loaded beat of silence, she whips her head between Sylvain and Annette, before craning her head to read Ingrid and Felix’s sheepish expressions.

“Excuse me, what?” She lets out another uneasy laugh.

Ingrid sighs, finally looking up from the spot on the ground she has been fixating on.

“I think what we are all trying to say, or ask, is … You and Dimitri have been getting pretty serious over the last year, and we’re all very glad for that. We also think that it’s a bit inevitable, taking from how often you stay over at his place, that eventually you’re going to move in with him.”

Heat flushes Byleth’s face and she gapes flabbergasted at the strange scenario unfolding in her living room. Where her roommates have decidedly taken it upon themselves to ask her an intimate question she had not even considered, or discussed, with her own boyfriend.

The young woman shakes her head bemused.

“What are you guys talking about? Dimitri and I have been together a while, yes, but I live here.” She jabs a finger on the sofa’s cushion to emphasise her irritation. “Where is all of this coming from?”

All four others exchange quiet, nervous glances and fall deadly silent.

Byleth’s frown deepens. “Are you guys worried I’m going to stop paying rent or something? Because I’m not, I know I live here and I’ll keep paying my share of the bills. Just because I spend a lot of time by Dimitri doesn’t mean…”

“Would someone just… Tell her, please?” Felix scoffs.

“Why don’t you, emo boy?” Sylvain snaps, and the bluenette shuts up and sulks.

“What are we supposed to think? You’re hardly ever here!” Annette interjects and Byleth’s attention snaps back to her. “In the last three months, you’ve probably been home a grand total of one week and that’s just to do your share of the chores and to get a fresh set clothes.”

“I don’t have any plans to move in with Dimitri anytime soon, and if I had, I’d like to think I’d discuss it with him first and then you guys before leaving.” The girl with the blue hair crosses her arms over her chest. Her brow furrows in anger, wondering why the people she trusts the most are testing her. “I’m trying to wrap my head around this. Are you guys upset, or… I don’t know, that I’m not really home to hang out?”

There’s a hasty chorus of disagreement and a snort from Sylvain.

“No! Of course not. We’re all happy you and Dimitri were able to work things out and be together. None of us miss either of you sulking on the hallways because of heartache, trust me. It’s just…” Annette’s shifty eyes dart around the face of her roommates again before dropping her voice to a near whisper. “Somebody could be living in that room. Garreg Mach is really expensive and it’s hard to find somewhere to live comfortably at a reasonable price.”

“I know that, which is why I pay one-fifth of the rent.” Byleth says a little stung by the comment. “I could make more of an effort to be here, you’re right about that, but I…”

Suddenly it all clicks, and after nearly three years dealing with shy kids trying to make sense of their own emotions, Byleth can practically see the puzzle pieces aligning perfectly together. A surge of hot energy courses through her. Betrayal and anger flare up.

“Oh my star!” Byleth gasps, jaw slacking as the realisation dawns on her. Her friends collectively tense at her tone. “You have someone for the room already, don’t you?!”

“See!” Annette’s eye grow wide. She nervously points an accusing finger at Byleth. “You’re calling it the room, not even my room.”

“That is not the point!” The woman adds flustered. “And you’re not even denying it!”

“Okay, okay.” Sylvain wheels himself between Annette and Byleth. “I think we all need to take a step back and reassess. Byleth deserves a proper explanation and we’ve done a terrible job so far.”

Felix shakes his head, rolling her eyes and Ingrid awkwardly scratches at her eyebrow.

Falling to him, the redhead gives his friend a pained smile and gently tells her, “Byleth, I think what Annette is trying to say is that we may have jumped the gun a bit and promised your room to someone else.”

She rubs her creased forehead, trying to wrap her head around the mess.

“Why…” Byleth begins slowly, letting out a loud sigh and trying to stifle her anger into a passive voice. “…Would you offer my room to someone before even talking to me? Can’t you guys just tell them, I don’t know, sike?”

Annette and Sylvain share another anxious glance, trying to trade off the responsibility of telling the irate blackbelt in more martial arts they care to know the truth.

“One of our, ahem, friends in common told Annette she was struggling to find a place since the lease on her place was running out and well…” Sylvain scratched the back of his head, what he usually did whenever he felt nervous. “I think, our Annette here saw a colleague in need and… Offered up your room.”

They have hit Byleth in her weak spot, pulling at her heart strings and targeting the softness at the core of her nature. She opens her mouth, trying to come up with a solution before Annette hits her with the devastating, closing blow:

“It’s Dorothea.”

“Sylvain’s girlfriend?” Byleth groans, burying her face in her hands. “Why doesn’t she sleep on his room?!”

“She’s a model, you see.” Said man interjects with a moronic smile. “She owns too many clothes and shoes and make-up. Between her stuff and my stuff, we wouldn’t have any space.”

“Oh, so I’m being evicted, not so Dorothea can move in, but her clothes?!” The woman bawled. “What the fuck?!

Ingrid scoots closer and runs an arm, hopefully reassuring, around her friend’s shoulder. “It’s not like that, Byleth. Dorothea really needs a place to stay, and, well, you really don’t.”

The blue-haired woman glares at the blonde. “Easy for you to say, Ingrid. You’re engaged, why don’t you move in with Glenn?”

“Glenn lives in Fraldarius, Byleth.” The blonde biochemist responded, as if it was obvious.

“And Dimitri lives in the Upper City. Your point?” The other shot back.

She wishes the four of them had collectively shot her. It would hurt less. She stands up abruptly and shoulders her bag once more before heading for the front door.

“I need to go clear my head.” Byleth declared, picking up her keys from the table and walking to the door. “I can’t talk about this right now. I’m going to be late.”

No one moves, except for Annette, who looks like she is about to bolt after the young teacher, but Felix stops her.

“Oh, yeah? Where are you headed tonight?” Sylvain smugly calls out after Byleth, who glares at him before slamming the door.

*_*_*_*_*

When she arrives at Dimitri’s apartment, thirteen hours later, letting herself in with her own set of keys, the rich smell of oregano and sharp cheddar envelopes her seductively. Dedue must have stopped by.

The blond man can tell by the way Byleth storms in without so much of a greeting and the hasty way she unpacks the wine from her carrier bag that she is in a bad mood. She does not even bother petting or cooing at Rufus, aptly named after her boyfriend’s hated uncle, when it desperately whines at her heels.

Standing on the kitchen door after setting the dinner plates, Dimitri quirks an eyebrow at her. “Delays on the cable car again?”

His girlfriend remains eerily silent, opening and closing a few drawers and cabinet doors. Angry at her comfort and ease at which she can move around his apartment, finding exactly what she was looking for, where she was looking for it.

Dimitri continues to observe her. Eyes scanning, analysing, as she sets down two wine glasses with a clink. Impatiently, the resident uncorks the wine bottle and with a loud, long glug she pours the cheap red wine.

After handing Dimitri his glass, she gingerly-yet-decidedly taps hers with his and takes one long gulp. Byleth finally meets his eyes and pulls her drinks away, exhaling noisily.

“I’m getting kicked out of my apartment.” She declares, monotone. “I’m getting kicked out because of clothes.”

Dimitri freezes, wine glass suspended at his mouth. Out of all the reasons why she stomped into the house, this was not one of the scenarios he had prepared for. She downs the rest of her wine before pouring herself another generous serving.

“The tribe has spoken. I’ve been voted off the island. Big Brother has evicted me. I am the weakest link. I didn’t get a rose. Sashay away. I’m running out of TV catch phrases here, Dimitri.”

Byleth moves to the other side of the room and towards the couch, Rufus following closely behind her. When she plops down unceremoniously, she finally gives in and scratches the dark-brown Labrador behind its ear.

Dimitri throws a glance over his shoulder, ensuring the food his housekeeper brough over in the afternoon was covered before following the exasperated woman.

His eyebrows tightly knit together. “What do you mean you’re being kicked out?”

Byleth fills him in on why she is so frustrated, explaining the unwitting part that Dorothea played on the whole mess and recapping the details of the stupid living room meeting but overtly sidesteps the reasoning her roommates used to indirectly oust her from their home.

“Why do I get the feeling that there’s more to this than you’re letting on?” Dimitri says coolly, seeing through her as if she was made of glass.

He takes another drink of the terrible wine she has thoughtlessly chosen and fixes her with a serious stare. Byleth averts her blue eyes back down to her lap, heat prickling at her cheeks and ears. At the thought of presenting her boyfriend with the same words Annette had used calls a wave of embarrassment to wash over her.

She lets out a loud breath, the dark strands of her fringe blowing up briefly. She turns her head and meets his concerned gaze. “They did it because they’re expecting me to move in with you.”

The stillness that follows unnerves the older woman. Byleth cannot read Dimitri’s expression, and a rush of emotions surge through her. Mortified, she busies herself by petting Rufus’ eager head.

She is about to open her mouth again, on the verge of taking it all back, but then he speaks. “I wasn’t sure when to bring it up.”

“I’m sorry, what?” The woman balks.

Dimitri’s words take her by surprise, blowing her over in the complete opposite direction she anticipates. It is his turn to let out an exasperated sigh and takes a long drink as Byleth watches him nervously, gripping onto a spare throw pillow.

“Bring what up?” She asks, softly, trying to calm him down.

“I can see why they would think that.” He averts his gaze, toying with the stem of the wine glass. “You… Have been spending a lot of time here.”

“I have not!” She interrupts, but the man pays her no mind.

“I can see where they’re coming from. Most of your belongings are here. Your clothes, your class logs, your books, your plants, even your dog!” Dimitri lets out a chuckle.

Byleth stiffens. “They’re cacti and I can take them back to my apartment. I can clear out my drawer and take my paperwork, that’s not an issue, and I just keep Rufus here because Felix is allergic. I’m sorry if I’ve made myself too comfortable, but I…”

His large, comforting hand cuts her off mid-sentence, finding a spot on her lap.

“I don’t want to give you just a drawer.” He interjects.

The words die in her throat, mouth opening and closing a few times before she tilts her head quizzically. “What are you saying?”

Dimitri places his near-empty glass of wine on the coffee table, littered with her medical journal printouts.

“Well, you’ll be 29 soon…”

“And you’re 27, spring chicken.” Byleth smacks his arm with the pillow she holds.

Dimitri goes quiet, shooting her a deadpanned and exhausted look.

“I wasn’t meaning it as an insult, if you would just listen.” He mutters, clearly miffed at the jab at their age difference. “What I was trying to say, before you so rudely interrupted me, Byleth, is that you’re almost finally graduating college. I know you don’t like staying put for too long and you might want to move out of Garreg Mach altogether now, but if you choose to stay here…”

A pause weighs heavily on the living room environment. The man breathes out before continuing, feeling extremely bashful for broaching the subject.

“Well… Haven’t you… Haven’t you ever given it any thought on whether you’d like to live here with me?” His cheeks prickle pink at the words.

She feels like she is wading through a daydream, stomach somersaulting at the soft look he is giving her.

“Of course, it has crossed my mind. You know I like the school where I teach and I love my students. I don’t have anywhere else to go.” She plays with the frayed-ends of the pillow’s cover. “We’ve been together for a little over a year, everything’s been great and I love you—oh, don’t give me that look, it’s not like it’s a secret.”

A smug, coy smirk tugs at corners of his mouth and Byleth gives him another light whack with the pillow.

Another chorus of quiet laughter erupts from Dimitri, chest bouncing as he shields himself from the woman’s attack. “Okay, so would you care to elaborate what’s holding you back from moving in with me?”

Byleth freezes as his words, out in the open between them for the first time. Somewhere deep inside she resents her closest friends for forcing her hand to have this conversation. There is also a smaller hidden part of her that is so very grateful for them.

“It’s not that easy…” She mutters, anxious hands lavishing Rufus with attention.

Dimitri frowns. “Is it because you don’t want to move in with me?”

“No!” Byleth hurriedly responds, snapping her attention back to the young financier. “It’s not that.”

“Okay, humour me.” Dimitri studies her, silently intrigued by the challenge he has just posed. “Why not?”

“Where to begin? Oh, right, how about the fact that I can’t pay my share of the rent in the Upper City?” Byleth grumbles.

Despite her mother coming from wealth, Byleth’s life was always fraught with modest means. She had to delay going to college to raise some funds, and even then, she worked hard throughout her four years of education to get herself through it. It might be prideful of her, but she would not start relying on her moneybags boyfriend to pay all her bills when she finally was able to feel the coveted piece of paper in her hands.

Dimitri tenses. “Uh… Byleth, I own the townhouse. I thought you knew that.”

His attention uncomfortably shifts when Byleth’s jaw slacks.

“No, I did not know that, Dimitri,” she hisses.

He clears his throat. “Well, rent wouldn’t be an issue because I own the apartment. That is, in another three years, when I’m finished paying off the mortgage.”

Nervously, Byleth runs a hand through her hair. “Okay…” she starts slowly, trying to process the new information. “And how much is your mortgage—hey,” she scolds him when he opens his mouth to protest, eyes narrowing. “If you want to live together, I need to know these things, especially if I’m going to have to pull my weight in living costs.”

Dimitri’s frown deepens and he crosses his arms defensively over his chest. “I wouldn’t ask you to pay the mortgage, Byleth.”

The woman scoffs. “Then am I meant to just freeload and sit around your apartment, looking pretty, not contributing to the water, gas, electric bills?”

“You can contribute to the bills, and looking pretty wouldn’t hurt either, especially in that number you wore on my birthday, but I won’t have you paying towards the mortgage, it’s preposterous.” Dimitri reiterates, his light blond eyebrows knit together.

“Well, then I’m not moving in.” She pouts, arms also coming to cross over her chest.

He challenges her silence for a minute, then two, and after a year of being involved with the strong-headed teacher, he reconsiders.

With a defeated sigh, Dimitri reaches for Byleth’s forgotten notepad and pen on the coffee table. He scribbles quickly before loudly ripping the page out. He scrutinises her with a glare as he folds the page in halves, quarters, eights before reluctantly handing it over to her.

When Byleth smooths out the creases of the paper, she coughs loudly, awkwardly, at the figure staring back at her.

“Those are a lot of zeros.” She chokes out, eyes nearly bulging out of her head. “I can’t afford that. You know I can’t afford that. I teach kindergarten, for goodness sakes. That’s my dad’s yearly income. Double. By just sitting here, I’m practically depreciating the value of your home.”

The blond shakes his head. “I’m not asking you to pay for anything.”

“If we’re going to have a serious conversation about me moving in with you, you need to understand I do not want to live here rent-free.” Her face wrinkles in distaste for the idea.

“Then pay me what you’re paying in rent now at your current place.” Dimitri says defeated.

“No,” Byleth shakes her head decidedly and the man lets out another loud, exasperated breath. “No way. I didn’t take any handouts from my grandmother when she offered them, I won’t be taking them from my boyfriend, thank you. I am very much aware of our financial discrepancy, Dimitri.”

She crumples up the piece of paper and buries her face into the pillow. Money and social class have always been a sore spot between her and her friends. Felix and Sylvain were shamelessly rich, they were only slumming in Remire. Annette was definitively upper middle class, and Ingrid, while falling in a rough spot financially, was definitively marrying up next Spring.

That is not all. While they were all younger than her, they all had finished college and moved on to high-paying jobs, while she was stuck going to school every night because she had to work barely-over minimum wage. It was humiliating at times.

Now, her boyfriend wants her to move into his townhouse and become some sort of post-modern Stepford wife and it all seems so meaningless to her. She struggled to get herself where she is, all the way from when she was a little child and she had to say goodbye to whatever friend she made because her father had to move them to where there were work to now. If she caves in to Dimitri, what was even the point?

In the end, she knows that money is freedom, and she does not want to lose hers.

“This isn’t what I had planned. I was supposed to save up enough money to rent out my own little apartment by the end of next year. A grungy little place just for me, where you can finally come over and be forced to take cold showers in the shitty water pressure. A place in a neighbourhood where you’d tell me to call you every time I get home to make sure I got in okay. Not this!” She looks up to gesticulate wildly at his grossly luxurious living room.

“I’d ask you to call me when you got home regardless of where you choose to live.” He adds softly, hand on her thigh drawing comforting shapes.

“I don’t know what to do.” Byleth adds quietly, anxious hands once again petting an alert Rufus. “Our friends have accidentally kicked me out because they’re just… Well-meaning dickheads. And I know this is the next step for us, I just wish we had a say in it. Now, I have no choice but to accelerate my masterplan of winning the Imperial Lottery to afford living here. Twice.”

An uncharacteristically loud laugh erupts from Dimitri.

“You’re laughing, but I mean it. Even when I get my degree, I’ll have to work four jobs just to pay that stupid mortgage of yours.” Byleth adds seriously, slightly peeved at her boyfriend’s reaction.

“I know.” He replies coolly, almost smiling. “And I live to see the day when that happens, beloved. I just wish you’d hurry up already so I can finally retire and be a kept man.”

“Ha!” She giggles madly at the imagery it evokes, shoving him playfully and causing a wild grin to break out on his face. “The great Dimitri Blaiddyd, the Boar Prince of mergers and acquisitions, retired. What would you even spend your time doing? Going to the matinee and evening opera?”

“Which brings up another logistical point.” He begins thoughtfully. “If you move in, wherever will you run away to when you don’t want to go to the opera with me? You won’t have ‘last minute plans’ with your roommates or ‘pressing chores’ you have to complete at your apartment.”

She flushes. Clearly she is not as sly as she thinks she is.

Byleth changes the topic hastily. “Shouldn’t you be at least a little bit more… I don’t know… Opposed to us living together?”

Dimitri quietly considers her question as a hand comes up to rub the scruff on his jaw. Byleth immediately scolds herself for stupidly bringing on her own demise. Why would she question her boyfriend, with a notorious history of flighty behaviour, if he really wants to do this?

At this rate, she will be living in a cardboard under the Airmid River bridge. She wonders if her Uncle Seteth would let her sleep in Flayn’s room, now she is off to college in Fhirdiad.

“We’ve practically been living together for the last three months.” He says with a shrug, surprising Byleth. “I might’ve been disinclined about the notion a year ago, but… it’s as you said: everything’s been great and I love you.”

It is her turn to grin ear-to-ear at the words, she enjoys hearing the ease at which he uses them.

“It’s something that’s been on my mind lately, at an alarming frequency, if I may add.” He continues, clearing his throat and the hand on her thigh squeezes lightly. “I just never knew when it would be the right time to… Bring it up. I meant what I said earlier, I want to give you more than just a drawer. I want your cacti, your muddy shoes, your impressive collection of military history books. Those overpriced scented candles, your terrible, terrible, choice in wine, the way you somehow always manage to slam the door on your way out, how excited your demon dog gets when it knows it’s you unlocking the door. I want this to be your home too, Byleth. I want you to have your home with me.”

She swallows thickly. It might be the two heaped-glasses of terrible wine finally kicking in or the unguarded expression Dimitri wears so beautifully on his tired face, but the emotions are bubbling to the surface. They start as a prickle at the corners of her eyes and a stinging sensation in her nose.

A tear or two slip out, and before she can stop it, a goofy grin splits across her warm face. The hand on Byleth’s lap finally leaves its comfortable, warm spot. His thumb swipes at the rogue tears and Dimitri offers her a shy smile.

“Okay.” She says hoarsely, nodding slowly.

“Okay.” He echoes, blue eyes searching her face and the smile on his brightens by the second.

The hand resting on her face brings her towards him and their lips meet. His mouth slanting over hers in a new kiss, one they have never shared before. One that has always been waiting for them. It is painfully soft, reassuring, and feels like home. It feels like the kiss she has been searching for her whole life, and it has been waiting for her all along, right in the middle of this living room, on a Friday night, with the promise of a future waiting for them.

Maybe she owes her roommates an apology, and maybe a ‘Thank You’ card while she is at it.

The timer rings out loudly and Rufus’ barking follows. The alluring waft of potato gratin fills the house, their house, more prominent than before.

When they pull apart, her watery eyes find his, and they share a laugh at the silly looks on their faces.

“On one condition, though.” Byleth whispers, and they are still so close she can feel his breath ghosting across her lower lip. Dimitri quirks an eyebrow, somehow anticipating this request will be one her of lovely idiosyncrasies. “I still get to run away when you ask me to join you at the opera.”

Dimitri does not answer. Growling at Byleth’s vexing behaviour, he pounces on her and she fills the apartment with loud, raucous giggles while Dimitri lavishes the most sensitive part of her neck with ticklish kisses, beard relentlessly adding to the sensation.

They spend the remainder of the evening hashing out logistical details over wine and food. They fall into a comfortable routine, one they have never before noticed had always been there.

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

#fire emblem #Dimitri Blaiddyd

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derireo · 5 years ago

Text

dedue & dimitri - she knows what she’s doing

Dimitri doesn’t know how to kiss. Dedue offers up Byleth as his instructor until he gets the hang of it.

dedue x f!byleth x dimitri

LEMON

Dimitri was popular with the girls at Garreg Mach University (aka GMU). The girls loved his tall, broad frame, and the way he tied his hair back for varsity track and field. He did several field events like shotput and discus, but his best event was javelin.

Women loved to watch the way his strong muscles flexed as he ran down the track and threw the light spear up into the sky, and almost always defeat the other competitors that go against him.

He was undoubtedly handsome, and his kind personality towards his friends and strangers was a plus to many.

Dimitri was a ruggedly gorgeous man, and many of the girls from the university would try almost anything to spend a day with him.

Except, Dimitri has never been interested in girls or even boys – no one has ever piqued his interest. So, his experience with relationships and flings were at a zero, and no one really knew except for his small friend group.

Well, he wasn't interested until he met Byleth.

He first saw Byleth when the university was hosting the fencing provincials for the nth time this decade, with consecutive wins every following year due to the strong team GMU trained for hours, months, and years.

There were rumors about this woman, Eisner, who had been fencing on the team for three years, and had won each competition despite being a fresh competitor. No other students have properly seen her face before as she never left the gym with her mask off, and whenever she changed out of her fencing gear with her team, no one would see her leave.

So, she was kind of a mystery in the university, but she had a small fanbase considering her epic wins in the past half decade.

Unexpectedly, Eisner had sucked Dedue in too, as this year the Duscur man invited Dimitri to tag along with him to watch the mysterious fencer compete tonight. Dedue only really focused on his studies or training when he has a boxing match, so it was a surprise for his friend to all of a sudden be invested with fencing, of all things. He already had the tickets when he asked Dimitri, and so he couldn't refuse.

He's too shy to admit, but he was excited as well.

It was the match for gold, and Eisner was competing against another student from a different university. Her impressive footwork and her quick reactions to attacks had everyone in the gym holding their breath.

The match was close, as Eisner had one more point to win to get the gold and win the provincials, but throughout the whole match, the two fencers kept handing each other points, back and forth; such a heartracing match that it even had Dedue inching towards the edge of his seat.

It was quiet, the clock was ticking and the patter of their footsteps on the piste were the only sounds in the gym.

A quick stab to the chest was quickly deflected by Eisner, and her parry momentarily flustered her opponent as she twisted her body gracefully, body arched backwards as she reached forward with her sabre and hit her opponent square in the stomach.

And with the flashing of Eisner's light on the scoreboard, everyone in the gym who went to GMU stood up from their seats and roared from the top of their lungs as Eisner jumped up, throwing her fist in the air with joy.

Everyone went wild as it was another year that Garreg Mach University had won provincials again, all thanks to Eisner, and to make everyone go further into a frenzy, the young woman peeled off her mask to reveal her pretty, sweaty face to everyone in the gym, short strands of hair matted to her skin as her cheeks were flushed a lovely tinge of pink due to all the energy she had exerted into winning.

Boys and girls alike screamed.

"Oh, Goddess, it's Byleth!" Dimitri could hear a few people shouting over the ruckus in the gym as he stood in shock beside Dedue who was clapping his hands.

He wasn't really expecting to see someone so gorgeous under that mask.

As the gym quietened down, the officials of the tournament began sorting out the competitors into their rankings to get ready for the end of the competition awards, organising the trophies and medals on a large table as everyone who participated began to come back into the centre.

And Byleth, being the cheeky one she was, playfully sent a love arrow into the audience around where both Dimitri and Dedue sat, causing another small uproar from the students around them.

Dimitri was too dazed to remember what happened after that.

So, you could say it came as a shock when the next time Dimitri saw Byleth was when he was sitting at Dedue's desk with his friend sitting at the edge of his own bed, the girl happily bounding into his room without knocking on the door, finding her place in the large man's lap with a wide smile.

Her small ponytail bounced excitedly when she snuggled up to the man, and Dimitri couldn't help the way his heart stuttered when he saw that sweet smile of hers up close.

"What did you think about yesterday?" she whispered between Dedue and herself as the man curled his arms around her waist and dragged the both of them towards the headboard so that she'd be near Dimitri as well, his smile uncharacteristically private as Dedue cupped her cheek in his palm and placed a light kiss to her nose.

"You did well, cutie. Everyone was so shocked when you took off the mask."

Byleth scrunched her nose with a smile and looked over at Dimitri with her bright, twinkling eyes, almost startling the man by acknowledging his existence in the room.

"Were you shocked, Dimitri?" She asked with a tilted head, the tone in her voice casual as if she had spoken to him multiple times before, her hands finding Dedue's as he rests his palms against her thighs, his chin propped atop her head.

Awkwardly, Dimitri loosened the uniform tie that was beginning to get a bit tight around his neck and pushed himself back a little on Dedue's rolling chair, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he avoided eye contact with the girl.

"A little, yes. I don't know what I was expecting though." He muttered quietly and brought his hands together to fiddle around with his thumbs, a slight frown forming on his face as he took a quick glance towards Byleth who was giving him a friendly smile in return.

Byleth gently elbowed Dedue in the arm and turned her head to look back at him with a mischievous expression. "I bet he didn't expect me to look so pretty under that mask."

Dedue scoffed, pinching Byleth's thigh as Dimitri was too busy sputtering quietly over his words that neither he nor Byleth could hear.

Byleth squinted her eyes in thought the next few seconds as she leaned back into Dedue's chest and looked back at Dimitri who was fanning himself out of embarrassment, the heat already having risen to the tips of his ears.

"I was also really sweaty though, so I probably looked gross." She pondered aloud, lips pouted. "Nevermind."

Despite being flustered by Byleth's earlier words, Dimitri immediately shook his head in denial and shot himself forward on the chair he was on, his knees bumping into the side of Dedue's bed as he braced himself against the bedding.

"Not at all," he managed to blurt out, "I thought you looked absolutely gorgeous. I swear I– my heart stopped." he stammered, eyes wide and pleading as Byleth pretended to look unsure, Dedue behind her just rolling his eyes in amusement, but he decided to play along with the girl in his lap.

"I don't know, Dimitri," he started off, his cheek pressed against the back of Byleth's head as she giggled when his fingers tickled the inside of her thighs. "She's quite hard to convince."

"I look disgusting when I'm all sweaty in my gear." Byleth lamented, body sagging against Dedue to sell her joke.

Dimitri was a very sweet man from what Byleth could tell and from what Dedue had told her, considering the blond man was scrambling over his words with heat fuming out of his ears as he stared at her with a lost expression on his face, his lips slightly trembling from having no idea on what to say to her.

"Relax, Dimi." She laughed softly and reached out for his hand that was gripping onto Dedue's bed sheet, happily ignoring the way his body twitched when the nickname fell from her mouth. "I was just joking. You don't have to impress me with your words."

The blond could only flush an even deeper shade of red (if that was in anyway possible) and let the woman in front of him take his hand in hers, her thumb brushing over the back of his knuckles as she made an effort to get him to look at her.

"I heard you were in a bit of a predicament though. Dedue thought I could help."

Looking positively lost, Dimitri straightened in his chair with a tilted head, his eyebrows sad as he looked back and forth between Byleth and Dedue. "What's my situation?"

Scoffing, Dedue shot Dimitri a look. "You can barely function around girls you're interested in. You can't even make eye contact with Byleth."

"I'm surprised you didn't recognize me yet, either." Byleth mused, pulling at Dimitri's hand to get him to join the duo on the bed as well as making sure he kicked off his slides before putting his feet on the sheets.

"I'm the girl who took Dedue home that one night you were at the club."

Wide eyed, Dimitri pointed at Byleth and then Dedue, quickly realising the situation between the two and gulping when he saw how close Byleth was leaning into him, her eyes sparkling under the light as she curled both of her hands around his much large one, his smile becoming nervous.

"I don't know what you two are planning, but I believe I don't fit in to this equation."

"Hey, now." Byleth scolded, fingers lightly thwacking the back of his hand as Dedue rubbed his forehead while at the same time pulling out his phone to scroll through whatever. "I'm just gonna help you out with the kissing stuff."

Dimitri choked.

"Kissing?" He rasped, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to look at Dedue who was boredly typing something on his phone, obviously paying no mind to them both as Byleth continued to stay perched in his lap.

"I heard your first kiss happened a long while ago, and it didn't go so well. That being said, I will be your kissing partner until you get the hang of it!" She let go of Dimitri's hand to clap, and the blond nearly missed the warmth that she provided him for the past few minutes.

"You can't be serious." Dimitri laughed, incredulous, as he bravely stared Byleth in the eyes, his head shaking.

"I am." Byleth pouted, pointing her thumb back at Dedue who was still minding his own business. "Dedue thought it would help you be more confident around girls."

"I'm not so sure." Dimitri muttered unhappily and fiddled with the hem of his sweater, again, nervous, to look at Byleth.

The woman could only sigh, her eyes gentle as she tentatively reached out for the man in front of her, palms carefully sliding up to his cheeks to hold his face in her hands, making sure he was looking right at her when she spoke.

"I am here to take care of you, Dimitri. I will not force you to do anything you do not want to, but I can tell that you are a sweet, and sincere man. You just need a little guidance, that's all."

Those sad baby blues stared right back at Byleth while she brushed her thumbs along the dark circles that lay beneath his eyes and she couldn't help but coo at him as she brushed his long fringe from his sight, exposing the long, ragged scar that cut across his right eye.

"And without Dedue telling me, I can see that you've been through a lot these past couple years." She chuckled faintly, and traced the tips of her fingers along the uneven skin that was permanently etched onto his face, his eyelashes fluttering when she ran her thumb along his eyelid.

"From what I've been told about Dedue's scars, you were in the same situation." She smiled, sighing when the man in front of her visibly relaxed at the touch of her hand.

"You two are naughty boys." She scolded all of a sudden, and Dedue responded with a lazy grumble, leaning back against the headboard as he closed his eyes, Byleth still comfortable in his lap as she slowly got Dimitri to inch closer and closer to her without asking him to.

"I ought to punish you both for being delinquents in high school." She snarked playfully and printed a light kiss to Dimitri's scarred eyelid, her grin pleased when the blond flushed in surprise.

"You weren't any better yourself, Sweetheart." Dedue drawled without opening his eyes, a slight smile on his face. "You can't tell me the Ashen Demon was the nickname of an innocent high school girl."

"Oh, stop it." She groaned, lazily tickling her fingers against Dimitri's jaw as her other hand went back to poke Dedue in the chest. "I don't have as many scars as you guys do. No one else can prove I was her."

Fidgeting, Dimitri stared up at Byleth from his slouched position with some sort of emotion in his eyes; almost as if he was lovestruck. He wasn't really sure what it was about Byleth that made him eager to get closer to her, but with the way his hand was shyly coming up to wrap around her wrist to keep her hand on his face was something he's never felt comfortable doing before.

When Byleth looked back at him with curious eyes, he could only nervously bite at his lip as he kept her hand on his cheek, leaning into the warmth that her palm provided.

"Um.." His gaze flickered. "I–... I think I'd like to kiss you.. Now..." He murmured shyly, lips pouted a little as Byleth hummed, pleasantly surprised.

"I'm flattered. But first," she reached out to tug at the hem of his school pullover, indicating that she wanted to get it off of him before they continued. "Take this off. I have a feeling you're going to get a little hot under there, considering you've been blushing the whole time I've been here."

To prove her point, Dimitri automatically reddended and slipped off the pullover from his body to reveal the tight, white uniform button down that hugged his muscular frame. Byleth licked her lips in approval and gave a slight nod to the rolled up sleeves that made his arms look positively lovely.

Byleth supposes she has a thing for men who do that thing with their sleeves.

She shook her head. She couldn't let herself get distracted.

"We're gonna start off slow, okay?" She carefully readjusted herself in Dedue's lap to not disturb him and reached out for the loosened tie around Dimitri's neck, smiling. "Then once you've got the hang of it, the real fun begins."

Once the blond nodded, Byleth carefully pulled him in with his tie wrapped around her fist, letting the anticipation slowly rise between them as their breaths slowly began to mix and their lips just barely brushed. Dimitri held his hands in front of him, where they dug into the mattress just a few inches away from Byleth's knees.

He was shaking – reasonably so. Byleth was a gorgeous, and confident young woman. She could choose to do this with anyone else, but she chose to take care of Dimitri. The young man wasn't so sure if he was worthy to be in the presence of such a kind girl.

Lightly, Byleth tipped her head to connect their lips in a short kiss, quickly pulling away after a second or two so as not to overwhelm the man who was already clenching his hands into fists.

Dimitri was visibly flustered already.

The kiss only lasted for two seconds, but Dimitri already had the sensation of her plush, wet lips resting against his ingrained in his head, and he felt like he was ready to combust.

Giggling at the blank expression on his face, Byleth pulled Dimitri in again for another short kiss, just to get him used to the feeling of her lips against his as her free hand went to guide Dimitri's own to her thighs, so that he was able to brace himself against something more comfortable.

This kiss lasted a bit longer albeit only being just a press of their lips, and when Byleth pulled away a second time, the faint sound of their mouths smacking apart had Dimitri's body flinching in embarrassment; the sound almost lewd to him.

The action nearly had Byleth gushing a mantra of little coos.

"You're a cute one, aren't you?" She whispered sweetly, lips coming to find his own again to have him melting against her, his fingers weakly scratching at her thighs.

Slowly, their mouths began to move in tandem with each other as Dimitri eventually got the hang of what he was supposed to do, lips almost always tentatively connecting with Byleth's over and over again just to hear the addicting sound of their mouths smacking against each other.

Byleth sighed happily against Dimitri's mouth as he began to sink his fingers deeper into the flesh of her thighs, her teeth making an appearance to carefully nip at the man's lower lip.

She really loved riling men up with just the sound of kissing, amongst other things.

Lazily, just as Dimitri was getting more confident, Byleth gave a gentle suck to his bottom lip, the searing heat of her tongue dragging along the flesh eliciting a feeble moan from the young man that lit the ends of her nerves on fire.

"Mmh.." He mewled cutely, only adding more flame to the fire as she tugged his lip back with her teeth to see it snap back, her hands coming up to frame his face with her palms, dragging him into a much more heated kiss that had their teeth clashing.

His skin under her fingers were thrumming with heat, and as his lips parted just the slightest to let out a sweet, little moan, Byleth carefully licked her away into his inviting mouth, much to his surprise.

Dimitri didn't expect her tongue to enter his mouth, and so his first reaction was to gently bite down on her tongue, causing the girl to reel back in slight pain from the sharp pinch.

"Oh, Byleth! I'm so sorry." He panicked, body seizing up as he watched the girl wince at the throbbing ache that pulsated through her tongue, eyebrows slightly furrowed as his fingers calmed down against her thighs.

Pouting, Byleth lightly brushed her knuckles against Dimitri's chin in a mock punch, poking her tongue out a little to show that it was bleeding.

Just when Dimitri was going to apologise again, Dedue interruped him with a tired laugh, his eyes just barely opening as he reassured his friend. "It's okay. She likes biting."

"You have to kiss my ouchie." She demanded through a lisp as she held the tip of her tongue out, patiently waiting for Dimitri to regain the courage to get close to her again, eyes sparkling with anticipation as the man in front of her gulped nervously.

And much to her pleasure, Dimitri, who wanted to be a little daring, cupped her jaw in his large palm and dipped his head down, lazily sucking at the tip of her tongue to soothe her wound all the while successfully riling Byleth up.

"Playing dirty." She murmured when she pulled away from Dimitri and proceeded to knock him onto his back by pushing at his chest until he got the hint, the grin on her face wicked as she removed herself from Dedue's lap to crawl over Dimitri, who was staring up at her with dazed eyes as she straddled his hips with her thighs.

The room was getting hotter with how much their bodies were burning up, and with Byleth already going back to licking her way into his mouth, Dimitri was almost sure he was going to explode. He couldn't help the moans that escaped him as she used her tongue to have him melt in her palms, and his body couldn't help but shiver as her hands trailed over his chest and abdomen through his shirt.

Dimitri felt like he was going to die.

As her fingers skillfully undid each button from his uniform, Dimitri had a firm grip on her tied hair as their mouths slotted together in a wet kiss, saliva nearly leaking from their lips while Byleth ripped apart the rest of his shirt, effectively popping some buttons onto the floor as she exposed the hard ripple of his body.

"Is this okay?" She asked him breathlessly as her fingers began to trail down his chest and through the ridges of his stomach until they stopped at the buckle of his belt, her hand lightly tugging at it to let him know what she was asking for.

When he nodded his approval, Byleth started to expertly undo his belt with a single hand, her lips moving to press fleeting kisses from his chin and down his throat as she got the buckle undone, slowly moving down his body with her mouth pressing kisses to each inch of skin she can reach while she worked on unbuttoning his pants, the flat of her tongue languidly tracing every hard ridge of his toned stomach.

Just as her tongue was about to meet the waistband of his boxers, Byleth's hips were suddenly being hoisted up into the air with a new pair of hands, her back carefully being pressed down by a weight that was undoubtedly Dedue kneeling behind her with a tired smile.

"My lovely girl is getting carried away, I see." He murmured sweetly as he held his hips flush against her ass, where his growing erection pressed against the crevice of her cheeks, cooing faintly when she turned her head to look back at him, her hand palming Dimitri through his undergarments.

"He's a fast learner." She mewled pathetically as Dedue had a firm grip on her waist and ground his hips against her, keeping his movements slow so that she wouldn't get too distracted from pulling Dimitri's cock from his boxers, her mouth practically watering at the sight of the flushed head and the tip that was leaking precum.

Dedue nodded in agreement as he looked over at Dimitri who was covering his face with his hands in embarrassment, his chest heaving with shallow breaths as Byleth's hands gently pumped him to full hardness, her mouth just barely ghosting over the crown of his cock.

"Just watch her face, Dimitri. You don't need to be so shy." Dedue teased his friend who was trying to peek through his fingers to see what Byleth was doing to him, and began to inch her shorts down her thighs with his fingers tucked in her waistband, already being met with a panty-less Byleth and thin glistening strings of her slick sticking to her shorts.

Dedue pinched the soft flesh of her hip as reprimand.

"You have got to stop walking through our dorm without any underwear on, By."

Byleth pouted at the tone in his voice and made sure to make eye contact with Dimitri as he uncovered his face, one hand lovingly fondling his balls between her fingers as she pressed her thumb through the slit of his tip, giggling happily at the strangled sound that left the man's mouth.

"It makes it easier for your cock to– oh." just as she was about to respond with something playful, Dedue pulled his own cock out from his sweatpants and immediately pressed himself inside of Byleth's wet heat, her slick making it an easy entrance as her hole swallowed him up hole in just a few seconds.

Dimitri's breath stuttered when her smile was quickly replaced with a blissful expression as Dedue began to fill her up with his cock, with the way her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head as her mouth fell open to let out a soft gasp, Dimitri wanted to see what other kinds of faces she could make.

He held himself up by elbows, his shirt left hanging open on his shoulders as his toned stomach clenched, Byleth's cheek pressed against his v-line while she pumped his length a few times, exhales coming out in short breaths as her hips were being gripped by Dedue while he fucked her, and the small tendrils of hair that weren't tied up already sticking to parts of her neck and face.

"You are so pretty." Dimitri whispered under his breath and reached a hand out to cup Byleth's cheek in his palm, heart squeezing when she responded with a smile and leaned the weight of her head into his hand, body slightly shaking with the force of Dedue's hips slapping against her ass.

The wet noises of Dedue's cock sliding inside of her made Byleth moan as her slick continued to flood out in copious amounts, making the mess between the two lovers messy as Byleth tried to not let the pleasure take over her so she could start making Dimitri happy, mouth already falling open to let the the thick head of his cock slide against her drooling tongue.

Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears of pleasure as she stared up at Dimitri who held her jaw in his hand, and tried to bite his lip to muffle the growl that rumbled from his chest as she teasingly sucked the head like it was a popsicle, the tip of her tongue poking out to lap at the slit that gushed with more precum.

The noise made Byleth's thighs tremble, and her eyelashes fluttered as she loosened her jaw to accommodate the size of Dimitri's cock in her mouth, tongue slack against the underside of his shaft where the sensitive vein lay, a pleased hum escaping her when Dedue lazily rolled his hips into her, the head of his cock pressing against that bundle of nerves that had her twitching beneath the two men.

And then she started sucking.

The sensation of her mouth wrapped around his cock was something Dimitri couldn't describe, and he found it unbearably hot that whenever she popped off to breathe in some air, she was always salivating with the need to fill her mouth up with something. The hungry whimpers that fell from her lips as she searched every crevice and ridge of his cock with her tongue had Dimitri covering his mouth in pleasure, and at some point, his eyes started rolling too.

Eventually, the air became thick with heat and the smell was of sweat as Byleth continued to be taken from behind, and the sound of her choking on Dimitri's dick when she was given a particularly hard thrust nearly had both men orgasming at the same time.

Popping off of Dimitri with a sticky gasp, Byleth's hand quickly replaced her mouth as she felt her own orgasm coiling in the pit of her stomach, a mantra of little yes' escaping her as Dedue picked up the pace, his hands on his hips pulling her into every thrust to shove his cock deeper and deeper inside of her to get his sweet lover to squeal.

"Oh, please." She cried out, all cute and pathetic as her body swayed between the two much larger men that held her captive. Dimitri was slack jawed as he watched the girl come undone right in front of him, throat parched as the hold on his shaft tightened, her tongue falling from her mouth as tears slid down her face, body wracking with the hot flashes of pleasure dragging through her.

It wasn't long until Dedue was cursing as well, and with a low growl and a deep push of his hips, the young Duscur man released his fat load inside of the tiny girl that desperately lapped at the head of Dimitri's cock.

"Fuck." she growled weakly as Dedue continued to rock his hips into her, causing his cum to leak out of her while she suckled at Dimitri's tip to calm herself down from her orgasm.

Slowly, Byleth's body began to relax as her limbs got heavy, a faint whine escaping her once Dedue pulled out after a few more seconds of coming down from his high. The girl was finally able to focus on Dimitri once more, who was trying to pray to the Goddess above to forgive him and his sins.

She was getting lazy though, as her tongue was languidly lapping at his shaft with slow strokes, mouth occasionally giving the head gentle kisses before she licked her lips.

Then suddenly, Byleth had an idea.

Peeking up at Dimitri through her eyelashes, she sent him a little wink which caused him to flush.

"Daddy, lemme fuck 'im." She pouted cutely once she removed her mouth from Dimitri's cock with a faint pop, turning around to face Dedue who was resting against the headboard with his still hard cock resting in his palm. Dimitri stammered bashfully when Byleth turned around, and was met with the gorgeous sight of hot, white cum seeping out of her tiny hole.

Dimitri gulped.

How did Dedue fit inside of her?

And Daddy?

With fond eyes staring down at Byleth who was already crawling between his thighs to mouth at his cock, Dedue let out a sigh and dragged a hand through her bangs as he held the base of his shaft, lazily tapping the head against her parted lips as he motioned Dimitri over with a jut of his chin.

Nervously, Dimitri shuffled up behind Byleth who had her hips propped up while on her knees, obviously inviting Dimitri to sink his cock inside of her whenever he wanted.

"I think I'm gonna let him fuck you instead."

Byleth mewled happily, teasing the head of his cock with the tip of her tongue as she looked back at Dimitri who was already eagerly pressing at her loose hole.

She licked her lip once he slid inside of her and nuzzled her face into the toned stomach of Dedue to muffle her purr, mouth just barely ghosting against his cock.

"Give it to me, Daddy."

Dimitri gushed precum.

#dedue molinaro #dedue x byleth #dimitri x byleth #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #byleth eisner #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem byleth #female byleth #lemon

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