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gascon-en-exil · 2 years ago

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Nel and Raval broke the Internet. We have a serious debate on whether or not Dragons are acceptable of siblings incest with people even wondering how on earth dragon reproduction works.

I think they've just broken my inbox. I made an observation preemptively joking about how this was going to become a thing, and for some reason this is what's getting me dozens of anons. I've been a vocal critic of Avatars as a concept and have certainly never cared about shipping them with anyone, and yet here we are. It really is quite baffling; hopefully you all stick around for my next paralogue video this weekend and sub to my channel (let's go 500 subs!). Anyway, more anon perspectives:

So the fandom will never accept that the alternate universe equals to an excuse as to why there is no siblings bound between the main game siblings and the twins ? Man we are doomed. I guess that Nel and Rafal needs to screams a bit more about how their Sombron is not Alear's Sombron as if the developpers did not made it clear enough.

"normalizing harmful relationships" ?? what ?? ehm. so it's the people won't dont separate reality from fiction despite the fact that nobody will be able to one day travel dimension and marry the children of their own parent's counterpart.... god, even the game itself doesn't want it to be incest and is trying SO hard

I love how you basically stated all the reasons why a "morally good healthy ship" is not so healthy nor moral according to the very own anti' definition. I guess that there is something about people saying "love is love" in real life but when it's fictional character, it's literaly a death battle.

I think I know why the "Alear is dead" is brought on. Because from the start all ships were technically fucked up. No need for lolis, siblings, teenagers, old man or whatever relationship ties Rafal and Nel with Alear. If were on morality, all characters are marrying a dead person so even healthy and moral ships end up being immoral (asides from the whole species mixing that proved to be nothing but problem as it motivated Ashunera to make a flood). Good job Fire emblem.

This is going to be the Fates situation ALL over again. Except people this time will be petty with the whole separate dimension thing. We will have the anti trying to crave out, and the other who buy the excuse because they don't like incest while "Nel is waifu". and now that rafal has been confirmed to be a tsundere that like sweets... Yeah, Rafalear is going to be the great winner of the controversial not controversial pairing.

Ah yes, the infamous Byleth discourse because people don't know nor want to admit that grooming is not even age factor as there is kid that groom each other and some of them can be called pedophile. Wait till they discover that youngester can sexually assault older people, with the oldest of the party being the victim.

I gotta say, it must be very miserable to have an anti mindset when it comes to shipping, especially with a series like Fire emblem, which doesn't give a crap about power-imbalance like they do. I mean this is a series that has lord-retainer pairings, noble-commoner, incest, student-teacher, etc. I mean at this point, it's kinda FE's brand and it'd be a lot easier if people just accept that FE is a weird series that doesn't care about power dynamics in the same way Clamp didn't care about power imbalance with its relationships. It all just reveals that at the end of the day, these antis don't actually care about the real life victims, cause if they did, they would boycott the series and encourage people to do so like the moral satanic panic guardians of before. It's why I actually begrudgingly respect the people who do boycott Fire Emblem for "problematic elements", cause at least those guys are consistent with their moral uptight behavior.

Fe players : Alear and the twins are siblings as they share a dad

The whole DLC + the twins interactions with Alear and Veyle na dthe emblems denying it and making it canon taht they are not siblings and that the 2 Sombrons are different being just sharing a name and similiraties : are we a joke to you ?

God I am tired. Seriously ? the twins come from a dimension where Firene loves war, Brodia is the peaceful one, all the characters are complete opposite of their game counterpart, where Alear is not even Sombron's kid nor THE SAME GENDER AS THE ONE CHOOSEN BY THE PLAYER and they still think that Sombron is the same as main game Sombron ??? And we both knew that even if the twins were Lumera's kid, they would still call it incest because Lumera adopted Alear and made them a half divine dragon !! there is no way out.

my God it's insane. People really tries so hard. They went into a full rent over Alear's anatomy despite it being a mystery I mean their are originally a fell child, but then they got breeded with divine blood making Alear a half breed of both dragon's race, then they turn into a zombie and then into a Emblem with their hair being even more chaotic as we have 0 idea if the full blue hair made them full divine dragon or not. Worst, they even wonder if Sombron's DNA is the same in the paralele universe. My GOD JUST LISTEN TO WHAT THE GAME IS SAYING !! There is literaly not a single moment of the alt version speaking without making it clear that they are different people. Never though we could still be broken after all of this yet here we are !!

I totally get being uncomfy with some pairings but does it matter at the end ? Alear and their spouses will still give birth to either a monstruosity of a human child mixed with a mix of divine and fell blood while Alear can have children OP as hell with the twins, a broken monster dragon child with mixed blood while taking into account that Alear also become a mixed of Corrupted x Emblem hence a dead living. Either way we are cursed

Alright I have completed the DLC characters supports. I think it's safe to assume that Alear is to the twins what Rin kagamine is to Len kagamine.

I feel like I must conclude that Alear/the twins is not an incestuous ship but that because people think it is or that it looks like it we are gonna have a whole wave. Yeah never mind that i will soon see Rafal/Alfred fanart blooming when the lad are literally calling themselves brothers, something that Rafal never did with Alear, and that Rafal kind of turned Alt!Alfred into a Corrupted and cause his death... is it double standard ?

Gregory is the only Romantic DLC S Support, these anons onto nothing 😭😭😭😭

This is going to backfire into people saying "would you ship Celine and Alfred just becaus they are not related in another dimension" but yeah it's kinda the idea because Alternate Celine would not be our Alfred's brother so technically it's not the same as shipping the regular Celine with the regular Alfred. except it is with Alear and the twins and that they are never siblings in any dimension and I am feeling depressed writing this because why are we fighting over pixel hooking up ?

Are we gonna talk about how from the twins perspective they are marrying someone they are not related to but is dead in their universe whereas from Alear's perspective they are marrying someone they are not related to but simply did not exist in their universe ?

We literlay went through a DLc were our units could kill counterpart of themselves while getting 3 units who are polar opposite of the one we wanted to have. It can't get any weirder, not even with those fake incestuous support.

I feel like the problem of the game justification if the shippers use it would be to face people who would told them "then why don't you ship the Royals with the alternate version of their siblings" and them being grossed out but the thing is context : the twins keeps denying they are Sombron child and asserts that Sombron and another sombron are different people + they never act as siblings with Alear + the fact taht in both dimensions they are never related. So why this open the door to some pairings I find unsavory like Alcryst/ALt Diamant, it at least would not be real incest... but it is also never real incest because fictional characters are not related to each other unless you are asked to believe so.

The antis are exagerting. God won't send you to hell for liking a "problematic ships".

#Fire Emblem #FE17 #Fire Emblem Engage

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quietsun5268 · 2 years ago

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Who's the Most Likely, Least Likely, or Maybe Fathers for Owain based on Classes, looks, supports, and/or mannerisms?

Most Child units inherit the hair color from their fathers (with the exception of Female Morgan, who inherited her mother's hair color, and Lucina). But some parents are more fitting for some child units then others based on Classes, looks, supports, mannerisms, etc. I'm not looking for who would make the kid stronger. Just a parent who would make sense for the Child Units.

Recap: Brady Severa Cynthia Laurent Noire Yarne Gerome Nah Kjelle Lucina

Inigo

Morgan

Here's what I've gathered about Owain.

1.) In Awakening Owain's class is Myrmidon, which he could've gotten from Stahl, Lon'qu, Robin, Gaius or Gregor. In Fates Owain (or Odin) is a Dark Mage which he could've gotten from Libra, Henry, or Robin.

2.) He probably got the theatrics from Virion. Although the bizarreness probably came from Henry as well. The bragging probably came from Vaike.

3.) In his supports with Cynthia, Owain gets into an argument with her over what kind of hero is better. Owain prefers dark and edgy heroes, while Cynthia prefers more conventional heroes. I wonder if his preference is inspired by a possible father. Maybe either Lon'qu or Henry.

4.) Lon'qu's A Support with Lissa (where he took an arrow for her) could mirror his B Support with Owain. But there's a possible error, in when Lon'qu took an arrow for Lissa he still managed to kill the all assassins while injured, while when Lon'qu took an arrow for Owain in their B Support, they both retreated.

(?) Henry's father support with Owain has some unique dialogue. In their C Support Henry doesn't think Owain is cursed because he didn't detect a curse. At the beginning of their B Support Henry wasn't upset with him, not only that when Henry got shot by that arrow protecting Owain, it's implied Henry killed every single archer there single handedly.

(?) It's revealed in his A supports with his father that he died protecting him from an arrow but in Robin's case, he became gravely injured and is never seen by Owain again

(?) Ricken and Donnel are the youngest males of the Shepherds. In case you guys feel weird pairing up Lissa with anyone else.

(?) In Fire Emblem Fates, giving a Dragon Feather to Severa, Inigo, and Owain (Selena, Laslow, and Odin) produces some unique dialogue. Inigo and Severa show distaste for it while Owain has a straight up pissed reaction towards it. That particular reaction out what the other two feel could be from being impacted from either the Robin-Grima connection if he's his father or (this is only a theory) because it might remind him of the prejudice he might've faced in his childhood due to being half-Plegian if Henry is his father.

(?) One of Owain's barrack conversations with his father reveals that his father took him to the armory and that his father usually inscribes 'I Love Lissa' on his purchases. Who do you think would do that?

(?) Owain knows the Ylissean Royal family's fencing style, though he has added his own spin to it. So even if one of his possible father doesn't use swords, Owain still learns it.

Who do you think is the child's units mostly likely, maybe, and least likely parents based on Classes, looks, supports, mannerisms, etc?

I'm not sure if I got everything. There's always a chance I'm missing something but I'm willing to listen to any input and reasons why you think whatever Father is suitable for Owain.

Who's the Most Likely Father for Owain based on Classes, looks, supports, and/or mannerisms?: https://strawpoll.com/polls/e7ZJO1l4My3

Who's the Least Likely Father for Owain based on Classes, looks, supports, and/or mannerisms?: https://strawpoll.com/polls/wby5l7PDkZA

Reddit (you can click here if you want to see what other people think in the comments. But know that the polls aren't in Reddit)

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philliamwrites · 4 years ago

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The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.2]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 6.7k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Chapter 02: The Herald of Dawn

Hold me, O Night, with motherly affection, While the wan earth wakes with a misty yawn. By my blood will be born the Dawn and from my fleeting dream—the undying sun!

[Gabriele D’Annunzio]

Hushed whispers wake you from the dark. The crackling of fire sweeps away the last remains of weary unconsciousness, and you blink at a tent's ceiling. Someone draped heavy blankets over you, and with every breath you exhale, puffy white clouds rise up. The shadows of a fire dance across the walls, their blurry movements flush another wave of dizziness over you, and as you sit up, you notice a tight feeling around your head. When you raise a hand to your forehead, there is a bandage sitting tightly wrapped around your head, covering your right eye. The pain has finally stopped, but it still feels dully raw, like an injury that hasn’t healed properly and serves now as a reminder of anguish.

The memories from the battle rush back to you, the sound of metal hitting metal and heavy bodies dropping to the ground echo in your mind. Death was nothing new to the soldiers and mercenaries, so how come you don’t feel particularly sorry for the fallen? You’re no soldier, at least that’s what every fibre of your body tells you, so normalising killing isn’t right. You rebuild your surety of that, one shaky brick at a time.

Once on your feet, you make your way outside, drawn in by the smell of cooked meat and quiet chatter. The sight of a small camp greets you: more tents build a row on this side of the camp, and in the centre, solders sit around a small fire, their voices barely audible. They lean over a steaming kettle, their weapons at their feet or beside tree trunks—laid down for the night but still within reach.

“Heey, you’re finally back with us!” Claude’s voice rings through the camp, and several heads turn in your direction. As he waves for you to join him, you duck your head and move quickly to his side, wishing you could just merge with the ground and disappear from everyone’s attention. “Little one, you got us worried there,” he says. On his knees, he’s balancing a steaming wooden bowl, and the sight and smell reminds you how hungry you are. Your stomach agrees by providing a low growl.

“How long have I been out?” You barely recognise your own voice, the sound rough from exhaustion. Claude hums in thought and gestures with one hand to a soldier to bring you food, while his other pats the ground beside him for you to sit down. “We managed to march a couple of hours after cleaning up the mess from the battle. Right now we’re near the edge of the forest. There should be only one more day of marching until we reach the monastery.”

“And you guys are sure they can help me up there?” you wonder, watching the first group of soldiers get ready for the night watch. They’re frighteningly young, jostling and bumping into each other, laughing and stamping their feet against the cold snap that still lingers, the last gasp of winter before spring begins in earnest.

“If not there, I’m not sure there’s anyone out there who can help you.”

You glare at Claude. “Surely you must be the voice of confidence in this merry bunch, right?”

He laughs. “I’m the closest you’ll get to an optimist around here.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Reassuring is my second name.”

“No, you said it’s von,” you mumble. Claude stares at you for a long minute, then bursts out laughing, the sound dark and rich. “No, that’s a noble prefix. You don’t even remember that?”

You open your mouth, and close it like a fish, feeling your cheeks raise in temperature. He shouldn’t make you feel guilty for forgetting something like that, and yet the shame settles in your bones and you want to smack your head against something to help your brain remember.

“Ah, but pardon my rudeness,” Claude purrs and gives you a mock bow. “I can tell you everything you want to know about nobility and how overrated it is. In fact, I might as well convince you to join the Alliance before Their Highnesses steal you to their side.”

“I’m not going to be on anyone’s side,” you mumble, and steal Claude’s blanket as payback, relishing in his offended expression. “It has nothing to do with me.”

Claude raises an eyebrow. “Ehh, I’m not so sure it’s that easy.”

“It is,” you insist, unable to hide the sulk from your voice. “Because I say so.”

Claude raises both eyebrows. “That’s not how it works.”

“Watch me.”

Something like a shadow flashes across his emerald eyes, but it disappears quickly enough for you to think it’s only the light from the campfire playing a trick on you. “We’ll see about that.” He scrapes the remaining contents from his bowl and lets out a satisfying yawn when he’s finished, stretching his long limbs like a cat getting comfortable. “Sooo,” he starts, unnecessarily dragging out the vowel and the sound of it locks up your shoulders into one tense muscle in preparation of what he’s going to say next. “Care to explain what happened back there?”

You take a deep breath. “You mean when it felt like my eye was going to fall out of its socket?”

“Actually I meant when you tripped over that one root after we found you.” He gives you a crooked grin. “But that’s interesting too, please go on.”

“I thought no one saw that,” you mumble, and avoid his gaze as you remember that stupid root that nearly broke your neck. Well, Claude surely knows a thing or two about tricking someone into talking about exactly what he wants to hear.

You thank the mercenary that brings you food, and notice it’s the one from the battle with the crooked nose. He gives you a just as crooked grin and limps back to his comrades. The stew warms your chilled bones, the rich flavour of meat and vegetables lifting your spirits and filling you with energy. As you eat, you drag out the minutes but Claude doesn’t even squirm as you let him wait, and starts whistling an off-key tune until you start to feel uncomfortable.

“Well, if I knew, I wouldn’t be afraid that it might happen again,” you admit begrudgingly. “Because that was scary.”

“Yeah, it didn’t really look like fun,” Claude agrees. “But what was it in the first place?”

“I don’t know.” You start to become weary of those words. “But it hurt.”

Claude gives you a sympathetic look, and goes silent, allowing you to eat, but you can’t shake off the feeling his mind is still trying to figure out what’s the deal with you. He can, for all you care. And once he’s done, he can write a report and hand it right to you so you’ll understand as well.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice someone moving towards you. Dimitri approaches you with caution like you’re a small animal he might scare off with hasty movements. But the look he gives Claude is that of a disappointed father, and he shakes his head once he’s standing in front of him. “Claude, we were supposed to not disturb our guest,” Dimitri says sternly, then bows his head in your direction. “Apologies. We should let you rest.”

“No, it’s okay,” you admit, and shuffle a little to the side to make room. “Please stay.”

Both boys exchange a quick look, but then Dimitri sits down, minding a polite distance unlike Claude who only needs to stretch his legs for his feet touch your knee.

“We were worried,” Dimitri starts. Just like Claude, he’s taken off most of his armour, and nothing about him stands out as a member of the royalty. He looks just like any other boy, and you’d never admit it out loud, but you already miss the blue tones on his uniform, the colour making his remarkably ice-blue eye stand out even more. “Luckily we could dispose of all bandits and return to a safe area. Byleth carried you here all by herself.”

“Yeah, remind me not get on her bad side, okay?” Claude laughs, but you think you hear a slight nervous tremble in his voice. “She looks like she can decapitate me with a butter knife.”

“She doesn’t look like it. She very certainly will behead you with a butter knife,” Dimitri provides with a pleasant smile as if he’s talking about the weather.

“See, and that’s why she fits best in the Alliance,” Claude says, winking at you. “We’re always full of surprises.”

Dimitri rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his broad chest. “You might try it. I personally plan to convince her to join the Kingdom.”

“I think you’re both too late for that,” you say as you look to the other side of the camp where Byleth and Edelgard are currently engaged in a deep conversation, their heads leaning close to each other. Claude groans miserably, but quickly recovers as he turns to you, his eyes brightening up with excitement. “It’s okay, because once my disarming charm has wrapped you around my little finger, I’ll have an impressive tactician on my side.”

You almost choke on your next spoon of stew. “Tactician? I wouldn’t go that far.”

Beside you, Dimitri clears his throat. “Though I have to question Claude’s way of persuasion, I must admit he isn’t wrong about the latter. What you did back there was impressive.”

“I really didn’t do anything special,” you mumble at the same time Claude raises both hands leisurely and says, “Hey, it’s not my problem you think you’re immune to it, Your Princeliness.”

Dimitri grumbles something in a foreign language under his breath. Grinning smugly, Claude turns to you, and nudges your side. “Have confidence, little one. They’ll teach you everything you need to know up there.” He points up towards a mountain where you’ll apparently be heading tomorrow. If you squint, you think you can make out lights in the horizon brightening the night sky.

“That monastery,” you say, trying to ignore how Claude’s body radiates heat. “What exactly is that place? I’ve never heard of a monastery that holds a school. I think,” you quickly add, unsure what thoughts provided by your hazy mind are facts.

“The Officers Academy is a facility where students learn the arts of warfare, magic, and leadership,” Dimitri explains. He’s very obviously trying not to look at Claude, which in return has Claude’s grin widening even more. “The lessons provide us with everything we need as upcoming heads of our families. Swordsmanship, sorcery, authority, the history of our continent. There is much to learn for everyone attending the classes.”

“So it’s a death factory,” you translate, the sudden bitter taste in your mouth overshadowing the taste of the stew. “How can they just teach that stuff like it’s normal?”

“You saw it yourself, didn’t you.” Claude stretches his long limbs and leans back until he props his body up on his elbows. “Bandits and thieves everywhere.”

“And most students come from a noble house,” Dimitri adds. “They need to be taught how to take command, and about the responsibilities coming with leadership.”

You blow a strand of hair away from your face, mood dropped now that you know where you’ll be from tomorrow on. “This doesn’t sound right.” Though you can’t really say how a school is supposed to be instead. This is a world with different rules, and you aren’t sure if it’ll be easy to accommodate to them.

While the boys bicker how good the plot of the tale mentioned earlier really is, you see Byleth approaching. A bruise is forming on her left cheek, and she holds her arm as if bearing the pain from a wound. But nothing of that is portrayed on her face, as if her brain hasn’t registered she’s wounded yet and hence doesn’t need to express it.

“How are you?” she asks, sending the boys a quick look. Dimitri and Claude climb to their feet and wish their good nights with a quick bow. They hurry to Edelgard and gang up on heir, probably interrogating her about the conversation she's had with Byleth.

“I’m better,” you say, a little surprised you actually mean it. You feel refreshed and nourished, ready for another day of walking. Byleth sits down and watches the camp for a moment in silence. The chaos from before has settled into a quiet hum. Men and women sit together in little circles and tell their glorious battle stories with boisterous laughter, selling the illusion of a victorious life. But that might easily end the next day because of a hasty recklessness. No one thinks of that. Everyone is just celebrating, reaching for flasks and living in the moment. It’s a beautiful sight.

As the buzzing sound of people chatting subsides and the first turn in for the night, Byleth turns towards you, her voice lowered. “What you did back there,” she starts, and for whatever reason remains silent as if she decided talking about it isn’t a good idea. Shadows from the weakened fire dance across her face, and again you’re flooded with the unfathomable feeling of familiarity. It’s in the sharp lines of her face, the way her eyes move and settle on something as she observes her surroundings. It’s almost a painful sense of nostalgia. Something about this woman just brings you an unusual amount of ease, like it doesn’t really matter who you are, and rather that you’re here that makes the difference.

Before you can stop your brain, you’re already asking, “Do we know each other by chance?”

Byleth looks at you for a long minute, then slowly shakes her head, and you try not to show your disappointment too much. “I’ve travelled a lot with my father,” she says. “We’ve come through many lands and villages. You may have seen me at some point, but we’ve never exchanged a word until yesterday.”

You nod at the plausible explanation, but the feeling that this isn’t the right answer curls like a hook into your heart. “And your father hasn’t said anything about me as well?”

“No.” Byleth’s eyes follow your hands as they set down the empty bowl. Seeing that you’ve finished everything, she nods in approval. “And he doesn’t forget a face.”

“How do you all just … trust me,” you wonder, looking to where Jeralt is miserably leaning against a tree trunk as Alois keeps talking and talking. He looks like he wishes someone would take him down with an arrow.

“He doesn’t,” Byleth says. “And he calls me a little whippersnapper for that. He hasn’t called me that in the five years.” At the sound of the smile in her voice you snap your head in Byleth’s direction, but when you look, she wears the same bland expression like before.

“But you do,” you start carefully, not trusting your ears again, so you settle on staring at her until she gives another emotion. “Care to explain why?”

“For now, you haven’t given me any reason not to,” she states as if it really were that simple. It couldn’t be. Up until now Byleth has been your only anchor that your meeting wasn’t purely coincidental—that the reason shrouding your memories would dissipate like the night once dawn breaks if you just stick to her side, and everything will be revealed in time. But now without anything to hold on to, you feel like you’re slipping deeper and deeper into an abyss from which you can’t ascend. This feeling is terror fizzing in your blood like poison, and you shudder at the thought that you’ll forever remain adrift.

“Your powers,” Byleth continues, unaware of your mental breakdown right next to her. “They’re unusual, and if you learn to use them right, very dangerous.” Spoken by everyone else, this might sound like a threat, but Byleth says it like a simple statement, a fact, unaware how much she tilts your world with it. “What do you plan to do with them?”

You don’t have to think long about it. “I won’t do anything. Whatever it was, it’s over,” you say and gesture at your bandaged eye. It’s true. Since you woke up, your eye has remained calm, no red veil or eery proclamation someone might step into the campfire and burn alive. The pounding has stopped, and the normalcy of it is like a soothing balm.

Byleth studies you. You really wish she could give you more than her vacant expression. “You don’t know yet … your eye.” She takes your spoon and with the end of it, she draws a symbol on the ground. “Do you know what that is?”

You look at it, but nothing comes to your mind. It’s just a four pointed star with two lines crossing the right and left tips. “No, I’ve never seen it.”

Byleth holds your gaze as if she hopes to find a lie written between your eyes, and this time you don’t look away until she relents with a barely audible sigh.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because before you passed out, it appeared here.” She taps a finger against her closed, right eye, then points at you. Your body goes rigid. Immediately, your hands fly up to tear off the bandage, but Byleth catches your wrists and holds them down. “Not yet.”

“I want to see it.” Your breath catches in your lungs. It sounds like you need air because you’re drowning. “I want it off. Take it off!”

“I can’t show you, there are no mirrors,” Byleth says quietly, and throws a quick glance around the camp to see if your panic has alarmed anyone. You want to point out that you could use the reflection of her sword, but maybe Byleth has considered the same and thought it a bad idea, because she doesn’t know what else you might do with a weapon in your current state. Seeing that fighting against the vice grip she has on your hands is futile, you slump down, your arms falling slack back to your side. “Just what… what is happening. What is that?”

“Edelgard said it might be a Crest, but none she or the others have seen before,” Byleth explains. “They told me there is a teacher at the monastery who studies Crests.” She gives your arms a barely noticeable squeeze before she lets go. “So it’s going to be okay.”

“How can you say that?” you nearly sob, and wish you could hold onto her longer as she stands up and brushes dirt off her uniform. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not,” Byleth says, giving you one last look. You want to tell yourself it’s something like worry you see in her eyes, but her expression remains blank, like a board that’s been wiped clean. “I can only hope.”

The next morning, Jeralt and Alois set an unforgiving pace, determined to reach the monastery shortly after dawn broke. While everyone else couldn’t wait to reach their home as fast as possible, you feel worry grow with every step up the hill towards the walls and towers. The monastery looms like a stronghold, a building so tall and intimidating, built to make people feel small.

You were allowed to take off the bandage, and there was nothing worse than knowing something was on your eye but you couldn’t see it. Unlike everyone else. They kept staring at you, mumbling to each other in quiet whispers, and more than once you considered telling them that just because your eye was different it didn’t mean you were blind. It was reason enough for you to put the bandage back on and stay away from the soldiers and mercenaries, leaving them to their superstitious rumours. Who could have thought that you’d grab someone else’s attention entirely with that revelation.

Even before the first sunbeams broke through the budding branches, the wind carrying the smell of spring and new life, Edelgard stuck to you like a tick. It wasn’t hard to find out she was more interested in your Crest than you as a person, and every question you couldn’t answer fuelled her irritation. Still she was nothing but determined to squeeze the tiniest information out of you, and even though you tried to avoid her by either marching way too fast or way too slow, Edelgard didn’t relent and remained by your side. Fear is a little exaggerated to describe what you feel towards her, but it's close. Whenever her sharp eyes focus on you, unease takes hold of your brain and the words leave your mouth as nervous stammers. It certainly doesn’t help that you know she can easily hack off a grown man’s arm without so much as blinking. Or that the corners of her mouth curl up into the sweetest, rare smile.

Once you’re on the trade road up to the monastery, pebble makes way to smooth cobblestone. Giant iron doors stand wide open, and as your group enters, a merchant’s cart rolls past you and greets the returning knights. After the first entrance point, the second waits in the form of a portcullis and more knights standing on guard. Past the second ring of walls, you enter a small forecourt. On both sides are stalls and booths with merchants screaming their prices and the sound of metal hammered into the right shape at the blacksmith’s. At the foot of wide stairs leading up into the first building, a man dressed in dark blue robes awaits you, his strong arms crossed behind his back.

“Welcome back,” he greets Alois and the students. “Your messenger bird has reached us yesterday late into the evening, and preparations have been made.” To Jeralt, he says, “My name is Seteth. I am an adviser to the archbishop. Lady Rhea awaits you.” Jeralt nods but he looks a lot more cautious since you’ve entered the monastery grounds. At the mention of that name, his posture visibly tenses, but he gestures to Byleth and you to follow him nonetheless.

“We shall return to our respectable classes for now and make known we are unscathed,” Dimitri says. “Please, Byleth, and you too, if things have calmed down, meet the other students as well, won’t you?”

“Ohh, good idea. You have to go around and introduce yourself as our great saviours.” Claude winks at you with both thumbs up. Edelgard slaps his hands back down.

“We’ll be standing here until evening if we don’t get going," she says. "Please give Lady Rhea our regards. We’ll report to her once everything is sorted out about you.” She eyes you sideways, then ushers the boys down another hall like a mother hen. You exchange a quick look with Byleth who already looks very exasperated with the student’s antics.

Seteth leads you into the Audience Chamber, a rectangular room with statues decorating the walls, and asks for you to wait. The moment he leaves the room, you turn towards Jeralt and Byleth and ask, “Who is this Lady Rhea?”

“I’m aware Byleth doesn’t know much about her, I haven’t taught her he teachings of Seiros, but you—” He stops mid sentence seeing the way you look at him, and clears his throat. “Lady Rhea is the archbishop of the Church of Seiros. She’s commanding the knights and sees that the people don’t do anything stupid in the name of Seiros.”

“Seiros?” you ask, turning the name in your head. Nope, nothing.

“You know, the one who defeated the King of Liberation and founded the Church of Seiros?” When you just shrug, Jeralt scratches his beard and hums in thought. “Well, I sure won’t be the one preaching what you should know or not. But maybe don’t make it all too obvious you aren’t a follower.”

Or what, you want to ask, but Seteth returns and he isn’t alone. The woman walking ahead of him looks like she belongs on the portrait of a saint. It isn’t much that she walks towards you, but rather strides in grateful steps to the middle of the room, her chin raised high and shoulders squared. And yet when she looks at your little assembly, her eyes are soft and kind, her expression open and friendly.

“I welcome you into these sacred halls,” she says, her voice like soothing velvet on your skin. “Alois informed me of what happened, and I thank every one of you for saving the students.” Lady Rhea smiles at you all separately. Her eyes linger on you, and she titles her head slightly. “I've also heard about the wondrous things that happened to you. Please, be so kind and remove the bandage. Let me take a look at this Crest.”

You hesitate, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. But Rhea waits patiently and raises a delicate hand when her advisor Seteth flinches to repeat her request. Slowly, you take the bandage off, barely able to imagine how the symbol or Crest as they call it looks upon your eye. When you meet Rhea's gaze again, her smile freezes, and her eyes widen in surprise. Her lips part slightly, then stretch into an ecstatic smile. Beside her, Seteth inhales sharply. “This is impossible,” he breathes, growing pale. You start to panic.

“Why, what's wrong with me? What is impossible?”

“Nothing, nothing is wrong,” Rhea quickly reassures you, but it's hard to believe when Seteth looks like he's seen a ghost. “A fortunate day indeed. Not only does one of the strongest knights to have ever walked these halls return, but it also seems that a new chapter of history dawns upon us.”

All eyes land on her, one more puzzled than the other. Even Seteth doesn’t look like he fully comprehends what’s happening. “Lady Rhea?” he asks cautiously at the same time as Jeralt demands, “What are you talking about?”

The archbishop ignores them both, and the longer she gives you that pleasant smile, the more unsettled you feel. “When Alois wrote about a Crest appearing on your body, I was not sure what to think of it. But now, I cannot hide my joy at the return of a Crest that we thought was lost to history.”

“I—I don’t know why I have it,” you quickly say, feeling you have to defend yourself before they accuse you of stealing it. Can Crests be stolen in the first place? “I don’t remember why I have it.”

Lady Rhea nods, her solemn expression making way to worry. “Of that Alois informed me as well. You may stay here until your memories return. Allow me for now to tell you about the Crest. Maybe that will dissipate some of the darkness shrouding your mind.”

You nod, and brace yourself for whatever she’ll reveal. It certainly helps that Byleth stands close to you, her mere presence a standing stone you can hold onto for now without drifting away.

“It is a Crest most uncommon,” Lady Rhea explains, her hands gracefully crossed in front of her. “For there was only one person who bore it. This Crest belonged to the very one who served our Lady Seiros against the evil powers that threatened Fódlan thousands of years ago. He was known as Seiros’ Champion. The Herald of Dawn.”

She allows those words to sink into you, and how deep they sink. Now that they’re out here, you feel like they pull you down, deeper down into a dark sea from which you can’t surface. The only result is drowning.

“Herald of … you don’t think. You can’t think—” Your thoughts move way too fast, you can’t grasp any to sort them.

“What I think means nothing in light of what has transpired and therefore is reality. You are chosen by the Goddess herself to bring hope to the people of Fódlan. You are the Herald of Dawn.”

You feel sick. It may be phantom pain, but you could swear your right eye starts hurting again, as if the Crest is reacting to the revelation, the call of its true nature. You dig your trembling fingers into the fabric of your jacket, considering for the tiniest second to gouge your eye out. Can’t be anyone’s champion or Herald without the Crest, right? “So, you’re saying … am I the one from back then? This Champion?” If you were really the same person, how were you still alive after a thousands of years? The prospect of finally having an identity is great, but you aren’t sure you’re ready to pay the price that comes with it. And this one seems to carry a very heavy price.

“That seems quite impossible.” This time Seteth speaks up. He looks just as unnerved by this revelation as you feel. “The Herald appeared when Saint Seiros was in dire need, and once his duty was fulfilled, he vanished. ”

“But now, another Herald has come, and with you the promise of suffering and hardships,” Rhea explains, her expression now strict and foreboding. “The task of giving hope is the most difficult to ask of a person. But that is the path the Goddess has chosen for you.”

“No, no, you’re wrong. I’m no Herald … and certainly no Champion of anyone. I can’t give people hope, I don’t even know what to give them hope for!” Your voice borders on hysteric, but you’ve never been more determined to plead your case. “I’m not the right person. I’m really not.”

“Then how come you bear the Crest of Seiros’ Champion, my child?” Lady Rhea asks, and you notice the tiny shift in her voice. The kindness grows thiner and thiner, and in its place austerity and even coldness settle—the voice of authority and undeniable command. “It is Our Goddess’ will. The Church of Seiros needs you. The people of Fódlan need you. You cannot turn away from your Fate.”

You want to argue that yes, you can; you’ll turn around and leave this place filled with crazy people and their fanatic beliefs. One look from Byleth stops your thoughts. Lady Rhea interprets this silence as compliance, and nods, visibly pleased. “We have waited for this opportunity for so long,” she continues, now smiling again. “There shall be festivities today. As a welcome to our Herald, and the return of Blade Breaker Jeralt. For you, his daughter, we have also thought of a task that will greatly help Garreg Mach.”

Jeralt grunts, clearly unhappy, but Byleth only cocks her head to one side. You’re astonished that after everything, she’s still awfully calm and collected.

“A teaching position has become free as of yesterday,” Lady Rhea explains to Byleth. “By Alois' recommendation, you are to take that position and teach one of the Houses here at the Officers Academy. Your colleagues will provide you with further information. As for you,” and you flinch when she turns to you, afraid what else she has in store, “you too shall teach the students the course of leadership and command. Seiros’ Champion was a great tactician. He honed Saint Macuil’s abilities. I would not be surprised if you too show an unparallelled gift for strategy.”

“Well,” you start, but the hesitation is clear, and Lady Rhea smiles like she knows what you can do once the Crest is activated. “Whereas you are to choose one house,” she tells Byleth, “the Herald will hold seminars. As a servant of the Church, you cannot call in favourites.”

“I don’t even know what to teach,” you mumble weakly. “How to teach.”

“Me neither,” Byleth says, the first time she’s spoken since entering the Audience Chamber. The amusement glinting in Lady Rhea’s eyes is like the sun reflected on a purling river. “Do not worry,” she says. “You will learn in time. And we are here to help you as well.”

On your lips lie the words that they certainly didn’t help you. You came here so they could help to search for a way to return your memory.

Instead, they made everything worse.

The ceremonial robes hang heavy over your shoulders. The feast hasn’t started yet, but you’re already sweating and panting with the weight of the golden embroidery and the head piece decorating your forehead. When Seteth brought everything in a couple of hours ago, he was grumbling something unintelligible under his breath, at his side a little girl who, unlike him, was happy to meet you and to see that you’d take on the role as the Herald. You wanted to tell Flayn there was a difference between want and have to, but she was already focused on helping you dress and prepare for the festivities. Servants handled the remaining tasks of making you presentable, and now you’re standing in front of a giant mirror, observing yourself.

It was scary how things changed so fast. Not even 24 hours ago, you were a nobody, a nameless figure roaming the woods, and now there is a name that isn’t your own—no, not a name. A title. A title that will all but replace your name. History won’t remember you as a person, they will remember the deeds that you’ve done, the mistakes that you’ll commit. Lady Rhea spoke of honour like it’s a crown on your head, but you see the noose that it really is around your throat. The head piece feels too heavy, and the golden necklace sitting on your neck reminds you more of a dog collar.

There’s a knock on your door. Seteth said that someone would get you before everything starts, and you don’t even try to hide the relieved sob when Byleth enters the room. She examines you from head to toes, and leans her head to the side, one finger on her chin. “You look … different,” she says.

“You mean ridiculous.” You move your arms, demonstrating how the wide sleeves flap uselessly at your side. “I wish we could do this all without me looking like a sack of potatoes.”

“I had to think of cabbages, but you aren’t wrong either.” She crosses the room and looks outside the window. You can already hear the masses as they enter the Cathedral, and it does nothing to calm your haywire nerves. Byleth seems to notice as much. She turns to you, and asks, “How are you holding up?”

“Do you want the real answer or the one I prepared for Lady Rhea?”

Byleth raises a brow.

“Not good. I’m just … how could this happen?” You throw up your hands in frustration, and the robes give a dangerous tearing sound. Your arms fall immediately down, the thought of damaging a hundreds of years old ceremonial robe the last thing you need today. “Of all the things, how could I suddenly become some figure of the Church.”

“Is it so hard to believe that the Goddess of Fódlan has lead you to this path?” Byleth crosses her ams and leans against the wall next to the window, eyeing you curiously.

“I don’t even believe in this Goddess,” you groan, flopping on your bed. The chambers chosen for you overlook the bridge leading to the Cathedral where people swarm inside like little ants returning to their anthill. It was a small room equipped with all necessities for comfort but no additional expenses on luxury. A bed, a dresser, a simple table and chair, a mirror, and a shelf take up all the space. Not that you could have brought anything with you.

You look up at Byleth and dread the next question. “Do you believe in it?” you ask. “That I’m someone chosen?”

“Hmm.” Byleth casts one last glance outside, then pushes off the wall, gesturing you to follow her. You sigh, and mentally prepare yourself for what will happen in the Cathedral. Before you leave the room, Byleth rests her hand on the door handle and looks back at you over her shoulder. “I don’t know. Where I’m from, belief doesn’t save you from the sword of a thief. Only deeds and actions. It’s the reason my father and I are still alive.” She considers you for a moment, and when you blink you imagine you see the tiniest smile on her face. “What you did yesterday was very much real to me. Maybe a Goddess guided you, maybe it was just lucky instinct. But you saved my life, and that certainly is something I can rely on.”

She doesn’t wait for an answer, and swings the door open. You quickly follow, your steps feeling a lot lighter than before. “I guess I’m just frustrated,” you admit, carefully paying attention your voice isn’t too loud. “That they think there’s someone who can just decide how my life is going to be. Like this herald business suddenly defies who I am.”

“As long as you don’t forget who you are, does it matter?” Byleth wonders aloud, turning down another corridor that ends in stairs leading down. “As long as there is just one person who doesn’t forget, does it really matter?”

Maybe not to her, but for some inexplicable reason, it means a great deal to you. So you answer with a grumble, and Byleth hums like she knows she’s right. To change the subject, you ask, “What about you? How can you just follow along with being a teacher here?”

“Truth be told, I’m not happy,” Byleth says, nodding to the knights standing on guard in the first floor that leads outside. “But at the same time I can see Lady Rhea’s reasoning. Those students need someone who teaches them not to be stupid on the real battlefield. Especially when they are to be future rulers of Fódlan. If I’m the one shaping those little whippersnappers, I can rest at ease.”

You follow her down the hallways, staying silent until, “Whippersnapper is such a weird word,” you say.

Byleth gives a huff of air that barely passes as a chuckle. “It is.”

Together you leave the living quarters and enter the Cathedral at the backside where everything is closed off for the rest of the people. Lady Rhea and Seteth are already waiting for you, both dressed in equally complicated robes as you.

“Thank you, Professor.” Lady Rhea nods towards Byleth, who nods back and joins the other teachers. “And now, Herald, it is time to meet the sheep you shall shepherd from today on. Please, follow me.”

She doesn’t give you time to prepare for the crowd waiting for you, and glancing at Seteth for help doesn’t do anything either as he just crudely nods towards Lady Rhea, telling you to go along. You square your shoulders and hope for the best.

The Cathedral has been decorated with candles and tapestry showing the banner of the Church of Seiros and above it the Crest of the Herald. A platform has been built for your entrance, and stepping on it, your gaze roams over all the assembled students, clergy, and knights. Seeing them, you feel terror seize your body, locking up all muscles. The masses look at you with hunger in their eyes, ready to devour you like you’re the last piece of bread on the table. “Herald, Herald! ” they cry, and each time they open their mouths, the noose tightens around your neck. Saint and Martyr vaguely dance at the edges of your mind, beyond your grasp, mocking how you know them but don’t understand their very being. This is bigger than you. This is far bigger than you can manage, and you want to run away and hide from their greedy eyes.

Scanning the crowd, you notice the house leaders in the far back. Edelgard looks unpleased, her mouth set into a grim line, while Dimitri claps politely with the rest, and Claude raises a golden cup in mocking salute. You really want to break down and cry. The only solid point is Byleth, has always been Byleth up until now, at the other end of the room, holding your gaze steadfast like a pillow of strength in troubled waters.

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years ago

Text

Where Time Takes Us

Hey all! I’m almost done with Chapter One of a fic I’m working on, so in the mean time, why not have a quick teaser?

Eventually I’m gonna also post the full thing on AO3 so the format is better, and it’s also gonna have zelink and some revali stuff in the future...although I’m mainly gonna focus on character growth and arcs than the romance. All in all, when I’m done you’ll have to read it for yourself. In the mean time..

Enjoy!

Where Time Takes Us 6905 words (of like...15k it’s a teaser ok)

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Watch the home while she is off to war

The Slumber King versus the rearing boar

Awake, arise, do not be blind

To tales and destinies entwined

In the world we said that we would leave behind

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6 months, 3 weeks, and 3 days before the Hyrule Castle Slaughter, the Akkala Citadel Massacre, the slaying of the Champions, the death of the hero, and the rise of Calamity Ganon

She was supposed to work until whenever doomsday struck, and truly she wanted to, but circumstances led her to walk towards the echoing laughter.

Already trying to prepare the quip she would throw back at them (as undoubtedly they’d complain about her being late again) the researcher weaved through the familiar roads of West Castle Town. Most of the houses were dark, with the only light source coming from the occasional flickering lantern, and the pale complexion of the midnight moon. Needless to say, it made the warm glow of The Adequate’s Tavern stand out all the more as she approached.

Another roar of laughter and shouts escaped from an open window on the south side of the pub. The bags under her eyes curved with her smile as she recognized one of the voices. She absentmindedly traced her fingers along the outer walls of the tavern as she walked, loose chips of faded blue paint falling to the pavement below. The wooden sign above the door creaked with its askew weight. “The Adequate’s Tavern” was printed in bold, blue letters atop a faded yellow outline. The missing e’s and t’s gave evidence to the building’s true quality.

Pushing open the door, the researcher was met with a swirl of familiar scents, ranging from alcohol, apples, bread, and leather, along with a smokiness coming from the fireplace near the back of the bar.

Closing the door behind her, she walked through the entrance, passing under a wooden overhang, and alongside a long, stone-slated bar counter. She overheard a conversation between the barkeep and a waiter.

“Yes, they’re here again, so get out there already!”

“The scientists?” the waiter asked.

The man started shoving her towards the storage door behind the bar. “Yes, yes, now hurry up and stock up on that apple cider. I’ve already turned four full pitchers from the three of them, and the fourth is no doubt on the way. We can turn a bigger profit from those kids than any random alcoholic that stumbles in here tonight!”

The waiter disappeared into the back and the barkeep was left muttering by the counter. Chuckling to herself, the researcher moved away, starting to search for the scientists in question. Other than a single, beige wall that separated the edge of the bar with a support beam in the middle of the room, the pub was very open and lively. Square and circular tables were littered across the floor in mismatched patterns, ranging from oak brown to birch white. Clearly, aesthetic was not the centerpoint of the place.

She walked about the pub, scanning the faces of the men and women alike who crowded by the booths and tables. The tavern mainly housed a sea of Hylians, who let out the occasional drunken laugh, or hearty chuckle. It was a miracle she could hear her thoughts at all, as the air was rich with the sound of clattering dishware and the patter of dancing feet, as in a small corner to the left was a semi-circle stage housing a small band. A Hylian man with umber dark skin, much like her own, blew away at a Lurelin-made, seashell harmonica. To his left, a blonde woman extended her arm in quick and elegant strokes with a bow and fiddle. Two others struck away on small drums and bells, and the playful gig they performed had gotten several people up from their feet to dance for Hylia knows how long. The music wasn’t terrible, but she had heard better, from a certain Sheikah in particular...

As if fate had read her thoughts, she finally caught sight of her friends.

It hindsight, it was easy enough to expect the bard to be at the table closest to the stage. Yet, it was probably the three heads of cloud white, Sheikah hair that gave them away the quickest. A young teenage boy sat across a square table from two other Sheikah, a boy and a girl. He was looking at nothing in particular, as he plucked away at his lute, presumably tuning it. Wrapped around his head was a small cluster of green wooden beads, woven with brown string. They dotted like a line of stars in his fluffy, white hair, alternating between pine and sage shades. The knot tying the strings and beads around his head hung loosely like vines just by his right ear. He was just asking to look like a starstruck, homeless traveler, if it weren’t for the bright red cape pinned across his shoulders. The golden, Hyrulean emblem holding the crimson cloth together signified his status as an important worker of the palace. Although, no one would be surprised that this thin, skinny teenager was a bard and court poet, and not a royal knight.

Suddenly, the bard looked up and met her gaze, a pair of warm, red eyes catching the light of familiarity. He patted the empty seat next to him and said something to the other two Sheikah in front of him. One of them looked back, a young man with storm wild hair that seemed to part like lightning. He had a beige, long sleeve coat over a red tunic, as was the classic Sheikah style. However, the style of his white jacket told of his rank as a scientist. With chocolate eyes and a contagious grin, he nudged the girl next to him and fake coughed.

The young woman wore roughly the same outfit, although she had a navy blue skirt and boots compared to the other guy’s black pants and shoes. Her eyes were also red, albeit, with a more striking scarlet color, compared to the other boy’s warmer wine shade. Looking back, she adjusted her bright, Sheikah red, round, sparkly, diamond decorated glasses, complete with white accents that matched her hair. It was pulled in a messy bun, a hairstyle that her close friends knew was less for looks, and more for practical purposes, as supposedly “the stupid strands always find ways to bother my eyes. No, stop, I don’t need a comb! My eyeballs are just sensitive, OK?”

Pivoting past a waiter, the researcher finally moved closer to the trio, brushing her curly dark hair above her shoulders as she prepared for the sarcasm to begin.

The stormy eyed scientist spoke first.

“Purah, Purah! Is that...a ghost I see? It looks like Adello, but I feel like I haven’t seen her in a century, I surely thought her dead! Am I being…haunted?”

Purah turned in her seat and gave a fake gasp. She adjusted her red rimmed glasses at the sight of her. “You’re right, Robbie! I’ve heard about these spirits. They only come at midnight under a full moon, and they appear when you have friends that don’t know how to time manage and haunt you by coming to your birthday party with their terrible fashion sense 45 minutes late!” She clapped her hands along with the syllables of “45 minutes” to let her point be known.

Robbie awed at Adello in sarcastic wonder, and the boy across from him exhaled out of his nose with a smile.

Adello put a hand on her hip. “Save your breath, I was just working a bit overtime on the Divine Beast sketches. You know, work? For the jobs that we all have? So we can pay our taxes and shit? Unfortunately, not all of us have fancy salaries Mrs. Royal Scientist.”

Purah turned to Robbie, pulling down her glasses and looking at him sternly. “See, this is another trait of these kinds of spirits. They’re cursed to only say excuses for eternity.”

He shook his head. “Coupled with the fact that their fashion only ever consists of one color? Truly, a terrible fate for a ghost indeed.”

Adello narrowed her eyes. Smoothing out her juniper colored tunic, she said, “Ok first off, green is a great color on me, it pairs well with my skin tone. You’re both just blind, no wonder you need glasses.” Purah put a hand on her chest dramatically, but she continued. “Plus, I’d really rather not get fired since that ceremony thing with those Champions is tomorrow and, as you all know, I just got that promotion.”

The researcher propped a black leather boot up on the empty chair by the table, flipping her jet black hair dramatically. “How does it feel to be in the presence of someone with an actual on-the-field career?”

Purah stuck out her tongue, and Robbie cupped his hands and booed. However, the boy sitting on the other side of the fourseated table gave a celebratory strum of his lute, giving Adello’s pose a bright background flourish with a few upbeat chords.

She winked. “Thank you Zimiri, at least someone can recognize skill.” The bard gave a little bow with his head, grinning. “A few chords is all it takes to enhance a dramatic, late night entrance.”

Adello chuckled, finally sitting down in the empty seat beside him. The old oaken chair and floor creaked under the new weight. Robbie let out a huff.

“You kids need to learn to respect your elders.” He announced the word “respect” with the tip of his tongue. The researcher rolled her eyes.

“Ah yes, a whole one year gap between us. What astounding age and experience that these elders emit.” She gestured at Robbie and Purah with a sweep of her arm.

“Uh excuse me, but I believe in my case it’s now double that. A whole two years, my dear, naive child. For as of 4 hours ago, I now emit the knowledge of an existence spanning two decades!” Now it was his turn to pose dramatically, pointing towards the ceiling.

Everyone at the table groaned, turning to occupy themselves with something else. Purah started writing in her journal which she pulled out from her satchel, and Adello started to become very interested with the ceiling. Zimiri continued to pluck nothings on his lute.

Robbies crossed his arms, his white long sleeves folding across the Sheikah red shirt underneath. “Oh I see! So when Adello brags, she gets a musical accompaniment, but when I do it, it’s suddenly annoying and embarrassing?”

Adello smirked to herself, and answered, “Yep, that’s how it goes!”

“Alright you don’t get to speak Miss I-don’t-know-how-to-be-punctuation!”

Purah promptly smacked Robbie over the head with a pen.

“Hey! W—”

“The word is punctual you idiot.”

Robbie slumped his shoulders and made a face. He tapped his thumb and fingers together, mimicking the opening and closing of a mouth while he muttered mockingly in Purah’s tone under his breath.

Purah finished off a note in her journal before turning to the rest of the table. “Alright Adello, time to catch up. We’ve been playing ‘Till You Spill and I’ve already got some juicy stuff in here!”

Turning the pages of her journal towards Adello, she gave a chaotic grin. “Last round, Zimiri revealed that he once got teary eyed in front of the King himself after reading a poem about clouds.”

Zimiri raised his hands in defense. “Look, the clouds were an analogy for lost childhood innocence and I got choked up with that author’s amazing choice of imagery and descriptions, OK?”

Purah pointed her pen at him to hush, and continued. “Of course, him being a sentimental dork isn’t anything new, so he lost that round to Robbie who revealed the identity of his first crush.”

Zimiri muttered something about the game being rigged towards the birthday boy, but Adello talked over him, excitedly.

“Ooohhhh? Robbie?? Who are they?” She propped up her elbows and cradled her chin in her hands, excited at the prospect of more embarrassing information she could hang over his head.

He mumbled, looking to Purah for assistance, but she only cupped a hand over her ear, waiting for him to respond. “You all fuckin—” he sighed, “it’s…she’s...c-ch…” he avoided everyone’s gaze, “her name is...Cherry…”

Adello gasped, gleefully. “That girl from your old university?? The writer you hung out with!?”

Purah beamed, shaking Robbie’s shoulders excitedly. “I know right???” She loosened her grip and allowed him to wiggle out of her grasp for a moment. “Oh sweetie, campus days may be long gone for all of us prodigies and geniuses,” she flipped a few strands of her white hair with a turn of her head, “but I’m sure you’ll get her someday. You just gotta turn up the charm, find a way to woo with words. I’m sure writers’ love that.” Purah pulled down her glasses and gave a forced wink at him.

Adello tried to hold her tongue to no avail. “Pffft. Yeah, you can try wooing her with your punctuation.” This got a snicker out of Purah, and caused the birthday boy to blush furiously and slump further in his seat. Zimiri finally spoke up.

“Now, now, let’s all play nice. We don’t need to pester him further about it, he did win the round after all.”

“Uh, yeah. Speaking of the game, you still need to drink up mister.” Purah slid a tan brown cup of apple cider towards him, the translucent contents sloshing around like muck in a gutter.

He leaned on the back two legs of his chair. “Isn’t it punishment enough to smell it? The cider isn’t even near my face and my mouth is already burning.”

She shrugged. “Them's the rules of ‘Till You Spill. Your secret sucked, so swig!”

The poet groaned, but complied. Tipping the cup towards his lips, Zimiri took a hearty slurp of the cider, much to everyone’s amusement. It felt like hot, molten copper mixed with old apple skins. How could something both burn and freeze your throat at the same time? He let out a gag, to which Adello patted him on the back with a short laugh.

Raising his posture, Robbie crowed, “When we finally have Zimiri’s birthday maybe then we’ll actually upgrade to the alcohol.”

Adello raised an eyebrow. “Uh, right, because the upgrade from disorientingly strong, smelly apple cider, is you two being flat out drunk. Right...”

Purah slammed both her fists down with pride, letting the cups and pitchers slosh a few, amber colored drops onto the worn wooden table. “Bold of you to assume I’d drink at all, considering I’ve never lost a round! Mwahaha!” She blew a raspberry at her. “This tongue is apple free, baby.”

She gestured with her pinky and index finger at Zimiri and Adello. “Now, you two! The late combatant and the latest loser shall spill next. Give us your juicy gossip!!”

The bard, still reeling from his drink, leaned back in his chair and gave a nod toward Adello. “Ladies first?”

While she wasn’t undefeated in this drinking game, she sure as hell was playing to win. Especially since somebody needed to knock that smug expression off of Purah’s face. Adello thought to herself quickly.

Zimiri, no doubt, is probably gonna say something self-deprecating again, as he’s too nice to actually reveal anything embarrassing about anyone else. So...I just need to say something unexpected and interesting...perhaps something embarrassing about...hmm, I’ve already exhausted all my info about those cushy nobles and guards in past rounds…

Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. “The princess has a secret stuffed animal collection.” Seeing the light in her co-workers’ eyes twinkle, Adello knew she had chosen her words well. Purah leaned in. “OOoh? And how did you come across this juicy piece of information?” She rested her chin on an arm with an innocent smile.

“When I sent my application for the new job a few weeks ago, I gave it to the princess directly. It was late at night, and I bumped into her as she just left her room. The door was cracked open for a few seconds, before some royal, pompous guard slammed it right in my face. Yet, it wasn’t before I saw the pile of,” she counted on her fingers, “cow, sheep, bird, dog, and several horse stuffed animals piled high by her big, blue bed. I bet if I peaked for just a few more moments I could have found enough to pin her as a true horse girl.”

Robbie shrugged his shoulders, unconsciously rapping the table with his finger. “Well, speaking as a horse guy myself, I can attest to the fact that the childhood horse obsession phase never leaves, so I find Princess Zelda’s collection quite admirable.” He gave a nod towards Zimiri. “Either way, it’ll be tough to top that, Zim. Cute, yet slightly concerning, fact about our future queen? Quite the competition. Shall I signal the waiter for a refill now?”

Zimiri plucked a few more strings from his lute, before finally setting it down on the floor. He tilted his head, playfully. The string with sage green beads seemed to sway with the tavern’s music, and he spoke with a glint in his eyes. “Well, I might be faced with impending failure and ultimate defeat, but hells if I’m not one to try instead of mope.”

He combed his fingers through his messy, white hair, pondering his next choice of words. Fiddling with the beads and strings wrapped around it, he thought out loud.

“Let’s see...to top out on an embarrassing fact about a respected princess...it's natural to combat it with something...personal? That always seems to be the more valuable information in this game…” Adello shook her head. He was playing right into her hand.

“Well...Robbie won last round with the identity of Cherry...so, how about I dish out something similar. See, I’ve...uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Oh! Well. Court poet, shrine researcher, the job gets you close with the princess...kinda...I’d like to think we’re close anyhow…” He mumbled the last part of his sentence and let out a short cough. Then, he went back to fiddling with his short, messy hair.

“So… ever since I moved into the castle. When did my mom come here… five years now? I’ve, uh… had a crush on... Zelda…” He gave an uncertain grin, and raised the palm of his hands as if to ask, “well?”

At first he was met with silence. In his head, he started to celebrate the victory of his first ‘Till You Spill round in literal months. That was until he was met with groans and pitiful mutters.

“Oh Zimiri,” Purah sighed, “I was rooting for you too.” Seeing the bewilderment creep onto the poet’s face, Robbie answered the question before it even escaped his lips. “Literally everyone here knew that bud, it’s not a secret.”

The bard started to sputter, moving his hands in wild, questioning motions.

“But? Wha— I? You!? Didn’t you— I… W-well I mean, I know Adello knew, I told her years ago, but you guys—”

“Oh my gods. Zimiri, you literally talk about her all the time, you’re totally in love. Given that we’re also the recipients of your long spiels and ballads about how ‘intelligent and thoughtful and amazing Zelda is,’” Purah said the words to mimic the tone of Zimiri’s honey sweet voice, “it’s exceptionally, extremely, very, very obvious.”

“R-recognizing a person’s positive traits doesn’t instantly mean in love!”

The royal scientist leaned across the table and patted his head. “Right, but you also started attempting love songs a coincidental 2 weeks after starting your job of shrine research with her. Your eyes are already red, so whenever she passes by it’s like your pupils magically form into adoring hearts. Try to stay away from poker, it’s for your own good.”

Zimri continued to sputter, his cheeks becoming roser by the second. Robbie turned to Purah. “So, all in favour of finding Adello’s spill better than Zimri’s?” The two of them raised their hands in unison. “Alright buddy, secret sucked, so swig! WAITER PLEASE!”

Adello watched as the same woman she had seen near the bar earlier made her way to the table. Picking up a pitcher, she poured out a fresh cup of Adequate’s Apple Cider. The four of them had been here so many times, they didn’t even need to verbally ask for the order.

Before he could even start to reach for the cup, Adello snatched it out of the way. “Nah, it’s ok. I’ll do one for you, Zimiri. These two monsters have already tore you to shreds, and I’m sure I need a punishment anyway for coming in so late.”

He started to protest, but after catching the look in her dark, iron eyes, he relented. “Well, I thank you for your generosity.” The other two, however, were not as compliant.

Purah cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling, “Booooo... Boo to pity! Boo to generosity!” Robbie mimicked her.

“Yeah you have to respect your elders’ wishes. We demand blood! Suffering!”

Adello cracked her neck for show, before downing her glass of cider in a few gulps. The stench and tingling sensation seemed to stick to the sides of her throat. It would take more than water to clear that out. “Adequate” was being very generous when describing its quality.

“Mmmm. The cider’s weirdly salty tonight, I think your attitudes got mixed in here.”

Purah blew another rasberry at her.

They played for a few more rounds, the clatter of cups and breaths of laughter decorating the hours. Much to everyone’s distaste, Purah continued her winning streak, getting by with unbeatable information about the King, royal guards, and one embarrassing anecdote about how her little sister, Impa, had caught her writing an interesting letter to the “local archery hunk.”

Yet, Purah laughed along with the rest of them, the eyes behind her red rimmed glasses held no shame, which Adello envied. Of course that sort of attitude would make you a master at this game. Robbie and Adello attempted to team up and be biased towards Purah in an effort to get her to lose, but either Zimiri didn’t take the hint, or he just really liked playing fair which wasn’t exactly out of character, even if it meant more drinks for him.

Suddenly, a bell towards the back of the pub rang, signifying the end of the band’s gig. The dancing paused, as people gave their thanks, varying from politie applause to drunken yelps. Robbie then rapped the table with his hands, excitedly.

“You know what else tonight needs? Some amazing music, eh Zimiri?” He bounced his eyebrows up and down at him, and gestured towards the lute leaning on one of the table legs.

“I don’t know,” Zimiri replied, “I’ve only a part-time hire for the weekend rush hours, and I wouldn’t want to blindly get on stage and sing without being given permission.”

Adello scoffed. “Uh, are you kidding? The owner would love for you to play without paying you. Haven’t you heard the talk around town? The Adequate’s Tavern: Home of alright food and acceptable ale, but an outstanding, white-haired bard!”

He fiddled with the string in his hair again. “Oh yeah? I’d love to meet him someday.” At this, Adello clicked her tongue and promptly shoved him out of his chair with her hip.

He laughed to himself as he stumbled aback. “Alright, alright, but only because the birthday tyrant requested it.” Robbie clapped his hands in a “chop-chop” fashion, to truly signify his role as the newly dubbed tyrant.

Suddenly, Zimiri perked his head. Stepping back towards the table, he reached for his cup. “Oh wait, I just lost that round. I still need to drink my—”

Adello grabbed the cup right out of his hands. She tipped it 180 degrees and let the cider spill completely onto the wooden floor. He hopped back, and Purah let out a surprised yelp, saying something about letting the stench seep into the floorboards. Robbie just started to laugh, wildly. Noticing the small commotion, a few other guests looked back at them and started to snicker to themselves.

Setting the cup back on the table, the researcher said, “Great, now you don’t need to ruin your voice any longer. Now get up there and one-up the last band.”

The bard pushed his chair under the table. Picking up his lute as he stood and faced Adello, a charming smile on his face. “Heh, well. My singing voice is grateful. I suppose now I’m in debt to comply.” He gave a curt bow.

Robbie clapped his hands again. “Great, great. Now quit the manners and let’s go already! I still have to order the cake pie!”

Both of the girls rolled their eyes in unison. Zimiri shrugged and started to walk through the small crowd of standing Hylians, and towards the small stage.

A few of the regulars who recognized him let out whoops and whistles, yelling out “Bard!” or “More music!” in support. It seemed that no one really knew his name, but it was nice enough to know that even working here part time would grant you the honor of being recognized by a bunch of random folk. One confused patron, who only associated him with “z” yelled out “Yeah, Zelda!” before promptly slumping under the table. Looking around, a blonde girl caught his eye, as it seemed she was staring at him. He waved, and her cheeks, much to Zimiri’s confusion, turned pink at his gaze and she turned to her friends who started giggling.

Moving past the last of the Hylians with an, “excuse me, sorry!” he finally stepped on the stage. The bard pulled up a small stool to the stage, leaning against it. Most of the folks continued to whoop in approval, seemingly eager for another chance to start dancing. Even the barkeep clapped his hands, probably excited at the thought of a free gig.

I guess, if no one is stopping me…

It was a rowdy bunch, but not a new one. Zimiri had played for these kinds of audiences before.

“I see that quite a few people are itching for a new tune. So, uh, any requests?” he announced as he strum a chord on his lute.

A mass of different voices bounced around the tavern, requests ranging from The Babbler’s Jig, Misko’s Tale, The Eldin Bluffs, and Can I Get More Ale? Although, Zimiri wasn’t quite familiar with the chords of that last song.

He couldn’t stop himself from being biased towards the request of a certain dark skinned girl to his left.

“The World Behind!” Adello said. “Enough with those new ballads, I demand a classic!”

Robbie pumped an arm in the air. “Yes!” he shouted. “I second that! So is my decree as birthday tyrant!”

The bard smiled, preparing the fingering on the neck of his lute. He turned towards the audience. “Well, I’m afraid I have no choice but to heed to such authority.” He began to pluck the beginning notes, tapping a tempo with his boot against the stage. “Now then, a beat, if you all would be so kind?”

The tavern chattered in approval, before piping down. There probably weren't more than 30 people, but the beat they made was definitely sufficient. The sound of stomping, banging mugs, and clapping filled the room. The tempo didn’t even need much adjusting, as The World Behind was pretty familiar around Castle Town. The beat was like a child pretending to be a marching soldier, unconcerned and playful.

Zimiri’s smile widened. A lively crowd indeed, this will do nicely.

With that, he started to sing. His silvery voice echoed across the tavern, as he closed his eyes and began to play.

The boys have gone out to the wishing well

Will they come back? Oh only time will tell

A rupee for a life refined

But time and dreams never align

So tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

Many of the guests had started to dance again, while the rest continued the beat of the song. As Zimiri plucked rapid notes on his lute, he heard a supporting holler from Purah. Next to her, Robbie was slamming his fist to the beat, clearly enjoying himself.

Have you seen the soldiers’ drinking ale?

They wish to sing along with nightingales

To dance on home with songs and rhymes

To banish all the fears from mind

Yes tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

Another pause between the verses, and the bard played the “decorative” rapid notes in between. He didn’t mean to seem like he was showing off, but Adello would attest to the fact that this happened whenever he got too into the music. Looking towards her, Zimiri saw her give a double thumbs up.

Of beasts and men and all atrocities

The damn-ed fate, she owns all that you see

To a better day of new design

Forgot about the gods divine

Oh tell the world we’ll leave it all behind

At this point, some of the guests were singing along, though not to the point of overpowering his own alluring voice. Laughter rang out around the warmly lit room once again. Zimiri looked out at the dancing patrons and smiling guests, grinning at the feeling in his chest this brought. He continued the last verse.

Watch the home while—

“HEY!”

The sudden gruff voice startled the bard to the point where he nearly slipped off the stage.

Lumbering through the double doors, three guards entered the tavern. The one in front, who had interrupted the music, wore a typical knight’s outfit, the same as his male and female coworkers behind him. However, the black hooded cape he wore atop his metal armour swayed with every step he took across the floor, his supposed rank silencing the room.

Well, mostly, silenced the room. A few ticked off guests were booing, groaning, and mocking him for ruining the entertainment.

“Oh would you lot shut up for 2 seconds?!” he said, his voice booming across the tavern. “Listen, I’ll be blunt. I gotta give two messages for this establishment.”

The guests shook their heads, mumbling. Their booing and insults continued, but their volume quieted, it was too early to be getting cross with a couple of knights. Even Zimiri quietly slipped off the stage back towards his friends so as not to be at the end of the knight’s intimidating voice.

The female guard behind the knight handed him a slip of parchment. Unfolding it, the guard cleared his throat.

“Firstly, you’re music and pounding is disturbing the noblemen next door. He’s staying at the inn or something and wants you to quote,” he read from the paper, “quit the mindless thumping, for Castle Town is a place of serenity and peace, not of nonsense jigs and banging.”

The groaning and insults started up again, the man gave a shrug, stating something about how he was just following orders.

Adello couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “HA! Well, with an attitude like that, this’ll probably be the first and only time he’s been banged, he should be grateful.”

The room exploded into a mess of laughter and whoops. Even the guard smirked to himself, but attempted to hide it with a shake of his head, saying “Watch the mouth girl.” Although, his stern tone wasn’t in it.

After a second, he cleared his throat again. With a stomp of his boot regained the pub's attention, the laughter suffocated out.

“Now, we’re also here looking for a Dr. Robbie Kimura? I received word they might be around here?”

With the attention now towards a single table, most of the guests went back to their idle banter. A few waiters nodded their head towards the table in the back, and the man caught sight of three, white haired teenagers, who were sitting with the dark haired girl who had quipped out earlier.

The scientists turned around too late, in an effort to avoid the knight’s gaze. “Gee, what a bunch of snitches,” Robbie mumbled. The three guards started to walk over to the table.

“Dr...Robbie?”

“Who’s asking?” Robbie squinted with his dark brown eyes.

“Is this some kind of prank? You and your friends don’t even look old enough to drink.”

He scoffed. “Ok, first, yes I am a doctor! I didn’t fly through all those courses over four years just to be called, ‘Mr.’ And secondly, I’ll have you know that I am a ripe 20 years of age today, and I’m here drinking expired apple juice with my associates. So take that, pal!”

Beside him, Purah gave a proud nod in agreement. Zimiri started to wave at the guards, but Adello grabbed his arm before he could finish the movement. The guard was a bit unsettled with the way that girl was glaring at him. What was some random Hylian doing hanging out with a bunch of Sheikah anyway?

“Right, well look here son. Some curious aristo-brat snuck into the courtyard and caused one of those flying, metal Sheikah things to fall apart. My boss said that it was your prototype so you should come back and clean it up before something explodes, and possibly give a sincere apology to the meddling kid who got a few scratches.”

Robbie threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “You’re really gonna pull me out of a birthday just so I can go apologize to a spoiled kid for breaking in and ruining my Guardian?”

“If it let’s me keep my job, then yeah.”

Robbie mumbled something about not getting a slice of the apple cake pie.

Suddenly, Adello got up and pushed her chair in, smoothing out the belt around her tunic as she walked towards them.

“Ah yes, well thank you my dear assistant for the assessment but I’m capable of taking it from here.”

The guard raised a bushy, black eyebrow. “Sorry wha-”

“You said you only wanted Dr. Robbie? Well great job, you found them. Now let’s get going, I need to finish up a new design anyway.”

“You’re...Robbie? You’re a... clearly not—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have had my mother consult you for your opinion before I was given my name.”

This time, the guard didn’t smile along with her quip. “This is not the time for—”

She held up a finger to silence him, and glared at the three guards with her iron eyes.

“Look, I’m not a nobody. I’m more than capable of fixing up the guardian and any other disasters you might have left lying around the castle grounds. If I’m feeling generous, maybe I’ll even lick the kid’s boots, it’s not my first time dealing with this, alrighty?”

The knights looked at each other, quizzically. The researcher crossed her arms.

“You’re still following your precious orders, aren't you? How would you know what Dr. Robbie looks like? You can’t be faulted for not knowing someone you never met. So, you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

The blonde man behind the gruff, black caped guard, whispered something to his female coworker. Her gaze switched between the girl and the man. Still seeing the uncertainty in their eyes, Adello leaned closer to the knight and lowered her voice. “Come on, have a little heart, it’s his birthday.”

A beat of silence sat, only filled by the mild mumbling and chatter of the tavern. Finally, the guard let out a sigh.

“Alrighty Dr. Kimura. I’ll help escort you to the site.”

Robbie started to protest, but Adello quickly silenced him with a wink. The guard turned towards the rest of the room, yelling, “The rest of you, the sun is gonna rise in a few hours so save your rioting for then! Am I clear?”

The patrons just responded with stupid groans, and half-hearted agreements. They started walking towards the door. The female guard started to put a hand on Adello’s shoulder, but she brushed it off, saying something along the lines of “I can walk on my own two feet, thank you very much.”

Purah turned in her seat. “I’ll save a slice of cake pie for you!” Adello turned her head and responded with a two fingered salute, before disappearing out the door with the guards.

The tension in the tavern was almost immediately cleared, the moment the knights left. Most of the people went back to their normal conversational volume, and the waiters began to patter about with more confidence. However, Zimiri slumped in his seat, letting out a sigh.

“Why does she always do things like that?”

Robbie fiddled with the edge of his cup, tracing his finger around the rim. “Well, you know her. Undermining authority? Check. Insults and quips? Check.”

Robbie continued to list off more traits, but it faded out of Zimiri’s ear. Always jumping onto other’s burdens. Ah, that idiot. I bet she hasn’t slept for the last two days.

Purah suddenly piped up, taking out her pen and rapping it against the table. “Alright you too, let’s not let the sacrifice be in vain. Pool your rupees, we’re getting Robbie the fancy cake pie.”

The clatter of a few red and blue rupees echoed on the wooden table, although Zimri knocked Robbie’s share aside, saying how the birthday tyrant shouldn’t have to pitch in. Purah turned in her chair and started to wave her hand, in order to get the attention of a waiter. The bard watched as a woman with a tray started to walk over to the table. Then, he turned to Robbie.

“So what should we do while we wait?” Zimiri asked. Robbie stroked his chin, looking around the room.

“I think...the people could still use some music.”

Looking out at the crowd, Zimiri noticed how the guards' interference had really dampened the atmosphere. The warm and lively laughter that was present just a few moments earlier was now replaced with more monotone chatter.

He nodded his head in agreement, putting on a charming smile. The place needed a new pick-me-up, did it?

Well, what else is a musician for?

Stepping back onto the stage, he strummed an open chord, double checking the tuning. The whooping and clapping started to return, much to his delight. Plucking a familiar melody, the warm feeling in his stomach returned as he watched the new smiles that started to fill the room. However, before he began to sing, Zimiri first focused on craning his neck to look out a window, trying to catch a glimpse of a certain girl in the night.

It seemed the moon and sun were balanced on the edge of the world. The night had started to submerge behind the walls of West Castle Town, with only the brightest stars still perched upon the ink of the navy blue sky. The silver lining of greying clouds just barely glowed from the faint light of the day, still trying to break out of the eastern waters.

Adello’s footsteps echoed through the cobblestone streets, but she could barely hear it against the shifting of metal plates from the guards in front of her.

The gruff man looked back, scratching his peach fuzzed chin as he spoke. “Listen, if you finish your work quick I might be able to escort you back here.”

Adello shook her head. She turned to retrieve a journal from the pouch on her belt, opening its pages as an excuse to avoid his gaze. “No, it’s fine. I still have some more work I should be finishing up at home anyhow.”

“You...live at the castle?”

“Mmm.”

The guard took her blunt response as a sign to not continue with the niceties, much to Adello’s relief. Looking up, she gazed at the looming castle. Its towers were like mountain peaks, sitting above the blurred silhouettes of the buildings of Castle Town.

Taking out a bit of charcoal, she started to sketch its outline on a fresh page in her journal. While she only had one color, she tried to capture the shadows and lighting that cascaded on one side of the castle to the other.

The female guard slowed her step, starting to walk alongside the researcher.

“Already working?”

Adello didn’t look up from her journal. “Uh… you could say that.”

She laughed. “Well you best hope you know what you’re doing. This kid’s father has been yelling at her highness all night. Supposedly because she’s helping to lead Sheikah research, so everyone associated with guardians is at fault.”

Adello finished up the tower of Princess Zelda’s study in her sketch. She smiled to herself at the finished work. It was one of her better pieces. Putting the journal away, she turned back to the guard and scoffed. “Is that so?”

The guard hummed a yes. “Apparently, the kid is the son of some visiting nobleman from the East Post. It’d be in your best interest to apologize profusely if you still wanna walk around alive.”

Adello shook her head. She didn’t know it then, but looking back, many moons from now, she would laugh at the irony of her response.

“I’d rather die.”

#botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #botw fanfiction #purah #purah botw #robbie #robbie botw #zimiri #zimiri botw #adello #adello botw #botw oc #where time takes us

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thisispurpleyam · 4 years ago

Text

Surreptitious Candor part 4

A beautiful lounge singer and Napoleon Solo cross paths during U.N.C.L.E.’s mission in New York.

Napoleon Solo x WOC oc

I thought that this fic would only need 4 parts, but apparently it calls for two more...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Playlist

*****

Knocking out and tying up the owner of the invitation was much simpler than Gaby and Illya expected. The man was the personification of nervous, awkward, and clumsy. He tripped over his own feet and started sobbing immediately after Illya kicked his door down. When Gaby suddenly appeared behind him, the poor guy just couldn’t take it and passed out. They finished the job quietly and swiftly before their oblivious victim’s neighbors noticed something was amiss. Shortly after, they set off to the rendezvous point the team had agreed on.

At the soiree, Napoleon was blending in with the crowd perfectly, being the usual charmer he was. Amalia and Bernard didn’t even recognize him, as he had anticipated. So, when they paused to ask him who he was, he flawlessly delivered his story of being Alan Sinclair, the only child of the late Mr. and Mrs Sinclair. Everything else would have gone smoothly if it wasn’t for the gossip filling the room unnecessarily dragging out his job.

“Leon?” he heard a familiar voice call out to him, distracting him from his thoughts.

He turned around and faced the singer whom he had recently become very well acquainted with. “Ah, Eula. Fancy seeing you here.”

“After last night, who would have thought we’d run into each other again so soon?” she responded with a suggestive smirk.

Napoleon knowingly smiled back, taking pride in the secret only they had the privilege of knowing. He took her hand in his and kissed her gloved knuckles. “Fate has its ways.”

“I thought you didn’t like to dance, though?” Eula slyly asked, making a point of darting her eyes toward the dance floor.

“I suppose I could make an exception for a certain chanteuse again, considering how well my night ended the last time I did,” he replied with a wink, taking the lead and joining the pairs swaying to the music.

As the two of them moved in time with the song, it dawned on Eula how much time she had been spending with Napoleon. She preferred to be detached from people, being the independent and self-sufficient woman she was. Every involvement she ever had with a man, and they were very few and far between, only lasted a night. All of them, she either met at the lounge or worked with during one of her side jobs before she became a regular at the diner. She seldom let things get far as breakfast. Yet here she was, in her highest heels and most expensive dress, dancing with the devilishly handsome spy and enjoying his company for the fourth night in a row.

“Alan,” Amalia Fernsby called out. “I see you’ve gotten comfortable enough to partake in the festivities.”

“Mrs. Fernsby,” Napoleon greeted as he pulled away from Eula, noticing her expression sour the moment they heard Amalia’s voice. He pretended to not notice and settled for an arm around her waist instead. “I couldn’t possibly say no to such a lovely dance partner.”

Amalia turned her focus to the singer and remarked, “you never told us the two of you know each other.”

“I prefer to keep our conversations on a need-to-know basis,” Eula responded curtly, flashing an artificial smile to emphasize her point.

Bernard sensed the tension and stepped in, “I’m really glad you and Alan Sinclair are getting along well, though. His mother really meant a lot to our family. She was a wonderful tutor to you, and we’ll forever be in debt.”

“She absolutely was. Maybe you could come over for dinner sometime, Alan,” Amalia excitedly added. “How your mother didn’t talk much about you, I will never understand. If I had a son as handsome as you, I would-“

“Mother,” Eula sternly cut in. “Let’s not make our guest uncomfortable, shall we?”

Before the conversation could get any further, their assistant came to inform Bernard and Amalia that their presence was requested by an important guest.

Napoleon waited for any woman’s reaction whenever they realized a man had been dishonest with them. He anticipated Eula’s rage or tears, but neither came. Instead, she took her parents’ absence as an opportunity to get away from the crowd.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said as she grabbed him and pulled him to an empty hallway, leading him to the fire exit door. She looked both ways to make sure the area was clear before dragging him inside the stairwell.

Napoleon lazily raised both of his hands and offered Eula a sheepish grin, “Alright. You got me.”

“Relax, Alan,” she said in sarcasm and leaned her back against the door. “I’m trying to help you.”

Napoleon incredulously eyed the brunette. “You are?”

“Yes! So you better listen carefully before anybody notices anything out of the ordinary,” she responded all in one breath.

Still doubtful, Napoleon inquired, “but why? Considering you just found out I used you and lied to you, the last thing you should be feeling is generosity.”

Eula rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Leon, I knew. From the moment we first met, I knew you weren’t who you presented yourself to be.”

“Alright, humor me then,” he challenged. “What do you know about me?”

“First of all,” she started, taking steps closer to him and meeting his piercing gaze, “I know that you’re a conman. You always don designer suits that only the upper class of New York can afford, yet your hands are way too rough to belong to a man of wealth. Hell, even your car is more expensive than any I’ve driven before. As far as I know, no man can get that rich off physical labor alone. Hands like yours could only mean being heavily exposed to either field work or combat. My suspicions were proven right when I saw your scars last night. I’ve had my fair share of men, and I think I can tell the difference between a puny heir with no backbone and someone who had to do whatever he can to survive.”

Napoleon could only look at her in wonder. None of the women he had been with were as observant. They usually swooned over the smallest things and bought whatever persona he sold to them.

“I also know that you’re a thief. A good one, I might add, who would have gotten away with stealing my bracelet if I didn’t know the contents of my jewelry box like the back of my hand. After all, how can my bracelet disappear after I first spoke with you and suddenly turn up in my jewelry box after you spent the night?”

Napoleon snickered. “A good thief probably shouldn’t return items they’ve stolen.”

“Even if you hadn’t given it back, I still would have figured you out,” Eula confidently retorted.

“Oh really? Why’s that?”

“Simple. You’re not at all the type of man to stick around. You’re the type who leaves after you’ve had your fun. And if the object of your desire doesn’t take you up on your offer right away, you move on to your next conquest. With me, you actually waited for three days and even visited the diner despite barely knowing me. What other reason would you have to stay other than the fact that you’d already figured out who I really was?”

Napoleon hated to admit it, but he was impressed. The CIA and U.N.C.L.E. had done a good job covering up his criminal record, yet Eula was able to glean that much information simply by paying attention. She might not have figured out the exact circumstances, but she got pretty damn close. “You’re perceptive, I’ll give you that.”

“Alright, then. My turn to ask now. How did you find out I was a Fernsby?”

“Your bracelet,” he answered nonchalantly.

“My bracelet?” Eula asked in puzzlement. “But it’s a unique design that never reached the market.”

“Precisely. At first I considered it was a knockoff brand, seeing as it had an emblem vaguely similar to the Fernsbys’ trademark logo, but the quality was way too high to be that cheap. Then I found out that in every photograph taken of the Fernsby women from different generations, each had that bracelet in common. I gathered that it was a jewelry unique to every woman in the family.”

Eula shook her head and scoffed. “I knew I should have thrown that stupid thing away. It never did quite fit me right.”

“But there’s just one thing I couldn’t quite figure out.”

“And that is?”

“Every single Fernsby woman of the last three generations have their photographs in the paper, except for you.”

“I don’t really like to associate with my family. That’s the whole reason why I left the day I turned 18. I’ve been working at the lounge since then and even took up graveyard shifts at the diner.”

“So that’s why you’re helping me? Because you hate your family?”

“Don’t mock me,” she firmly told him. “They’re not as ‘glamorous’ as they make people think. I may not know the exact details, but I was groomed to be the company’s heir and trained to understand the ins and outs. I know they’ve been caught up in human trafficking and drug dealing of some sort. I can’t exactly report them to the cops because even they can be bought by our family name alone. The money from the business my ancestors started deserves to be put to better use.”

“And you think I won’t misuse the money?” he sarcastically asked.

“I think, you’re not doing this heist completely out of selfish reasons.”

“What makes you say that?”

“When you left the diner, I saw what you did to that young news boy. I saw how you bought all of the papers he had left just so he could go home. I also know that on the evening we met, when it was a really slow night at the lounge, it was you who tipped every single server on duty. Leon, you’re not as terrible of a person as you seem to think.”

“You’re trusting me way too much, Eula” Napoleon warned her.

“Well, I’d rather trust you than my manipulative and controlling parents. At least I know you’re capable of helping people on your own free will. They only do it for show.”

“If you hate them so much, why’d you come to the soiree?” he questioned.

“Because it’s part of the deal,” Eula bit back. “I promised I’d show up to every stupid gathering they’d hold in exchange for them getting their ‘henchmen’ off my back. It doesn’t guarantee my safety from the tabloids, but it’s worth a try…”

Napoleon wordlessly studied the brunette. All the years he spent in his trade taught him to recognize dishonesty, and Eula showed no sign of it. “Fine,” he gave in. “When do we start?”

“We? I can’t go with you. I go on stage in a few minutes. You’ll be on your own, so you have to pay close attention to everything I tell you.”

“Alright, what do I have to do?”

Eula looked around the fire exit staircase to make sure no one could overhear and hurriedly instructed, “go into the janitor’s closet at the end of the hall. The wall on the left side of the door is hollow and has a hidden elevator behind it. You’ll need this,” she took off her bracelet and handed it to Napoleon, “because the emblem on the pendant unlocks the elevator doors.”

“Ah, so this ‘stupid thing’ has a use after all,” Napoleon teased.

She let out a dry laugh and answered, “yes, but I won’t be needing it anymore, so you can keep it. The elevator takes you to the most restricted area of the building. When you get there, you’ll see a steel door with a passcode. I would tell you the code, but they change it every 12 hours. You get past that, and then there’s a safe you gotta crack.”

“Lucky for you, safe cracking is a part of my skill set. But I suppose you already knew that otherwise you wouldn’t be telling me all this.”

“I didn’t really know. But considering the magnitude of this larceny, I just figured.”

“Hmm, fair enough.

“Best be on your way before people start to miss you,” Eula ordered him. “Oh, and the password for unlocking the steel door from the inside is ‘awanggan.’ It’s Tagalog for infinity.”

“Listen, Eula,” Napoleon began hesitantly, “I’m sorry for-”

“It’s okay,” she interjected with a genuine smile and joked, “I always knew you weren’t a ‘coffee and breakfast in the morning’ kind of guy from the get go.”

Napoleon began to make his way to the door until he paused in his tracks and turned back around. He caught her off guard by pulling her in and capturing her lips with his. After she got past her initial surprise, she eagerly responded almost immediately; each of them moving with an amount of aggression to ensure neither would easily forget the physical memory of the experience. He gave her bottom lip a soft bite before slowly pulling away.

“Don’t miss me too much,” he smugly teased.

“Whatever you say, Leon. Now hurry!”

#Napoleon Solo #the man from uncle #The Man from U.N.C.L.E.#tmfu #tmfu fanfic #napoleon solo fanfic #napoleon solo x oc #woc oc

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zeldary · 5 years ago

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AHHI JUST SAW UR FE TRANS HCS POST.... U saif some have hints could u tell me the hints(sorry im really intrigued!! I'm trans too so)

Ahhh thanks for the ask dear!

I’ll try to list some of the reasons, though keep in mind some are pure headcanon! Some include spoilers so I’ll go game-by-game, from oldest-to-newest

Fire emblem Gaiden/ Fire emblem echoes: Shadows of Valentia

Saber - Agender: As my friend put it best: Saber lost his gender on a mission and never cared to go look for it. I just think he’s agender, all jokes aside, no much reasoning here!

Sonya - Trans lady: Sonya reveals that her two sisters were turned witches while she was sent away, as a kid. I like to think it’s because her father didn’t know at the time she was a girl. She’s also got great style and she’s a queen, and all trans women are queens, baby.

Genny - Trans non-binary girl: I like to see Genny as enby simply cuz non-binary people aren’t all androgynous. She’s also a super cute character and I love to think about Sonya and her bonding over being transfemmes because their friendships is super cute!

Celica - trans lady: Not in the original post but I’m adding it out of spite; Celica is trans and a wonderful character :)

Fire emblem Path of Radiance / Radiant dawn

Ike - Gay: i know you were referring to trans characters, but since he was included in the post, I decided to include him too. Basically; shows 0 interest in women, only has a platonic relationship with Elincia(?green haired lady), and that shopkeeper whos horny for him doesn’t interest him at all. However, he has two possible “bro” endings, where he elopes with a dude, with Ranulf and Soren! (Some might think it’s a reach, no way there could be a gay character, but keep in mind Jenny, in those games, is canonically a lesbian!)

Soren - Trans man: I just want to preface this by saying that when I discovered those games I was just learning about LGBTQIA+ issues, and some of my reasoning might not be that good, but here goes: the first playthrough I watched, Soren was constantly mistaken for a girl by the guy playing the game. He’s also (spoiler alert!) half beorc, half laguz, and i felt his treatment of society could be very relatable for trans people. There is also the fact that Ike has a great great great grandchild in Awakening, whom I think is also Soren’s (I like to think their paired ending is canonical), so Ike is still gay, he was just able to have a kid biologically with Soren :)

Fire emblem Fates

Forrest - Non-binary: I feel this is a touchy one: on one hand, people tend to see this character as just a gender-non-conforming boy, and I think a lot of people like him as is, and some might feel represented. On the other, Ive seen some NB people say his presentation and character reminds them of themselves. I also feel his struggle with his father is something a lot of us can relate to. As a non-binary person, while I respect any headcanon for him, I tend to fall for the latter. Also I’m starving for rep lol.

Fire emblem three houses

Byleth - Non-binary: Because I said so. (Nah just kidding the real reason is; everyone uses “they/them” for them anyway and I’m non-binary and playing them and they’re MY avatar. Ergo: they enby :3)

Leonie - Trans woman: When it comes to leonie, I just feel she’s trans, due to constantly having to remind people that she /is/ a girl. That’s a sentiment a lot of trans people share: just having people like “but... you don’t look like one lawl”. I also love the idea of trans girl leonie still being a bit of a tomboy, GNC trans people for the win lol (I also like to think her post timeskip design being pretty different is after 5 years of magic HRT lol)

Yuri - Non-binary: So basically i got super excited seeing the trailers seeing an androgynous character, thinking “THIS IS IT!! FINALLY!! NB REP!!!” But nah. Again you could make the same case as Forrest but I was just so excited,only to be so disappointed, I stick to my guns on that one, as I’m very petty. Yuri also got great style and not to brag but I feel we Enbies do have great style.

Bernadetta - Non-binary: I saw a shitty meme using her once to mock non-binary people, so I decided to have her be enby. Also I related hard to that character.

Dorothea - trans lady: Same as Sonya tbh: she’s majestic. But also: I find it interesting that (slight spoiler ahead) she was thrown in the streets as a child. I know it’s gross, /but/ I think it’s brought up in the game that sometime,s daughters were given away for money: my question is; why not give Dorothea away? Ferdinand’s support shows she was already beautiful when she was young. My answer: her father didn’t know she was a daughter. It also explain why, years later, he did not recognize her.

Manuela - Trans lady: My headcanon for Manuela is kind of an extension of Dorothea’s. I /Love/ the Idea of Manuella being Dorothea’s trans Icon, someone to admire both for her talent and for what she might have gone through. I also love the idea of Manuela seeing a /lot/ of herself in Dorothea, and thus making her her protégée at the opera. Just trans ladies helping each other Bruh.

Dimitri - Trans man: buckle up I kept one of the best for last. (Spoilers ahead!) First of all, his support with Catherine reveals he was very “feminine” as a kid, so much so that Catherine thought he was a girl. Fast forward, as a teen he’s very nice, a trait commonly shared by trans men. What makes me believe he’s trans most is the fact that as an adult, he does not have a beard. This might seem minor, but knowing his father had a lovely one, I find if weird that he does not, especially since we can assume he wouldn’t shave it since he looks...like... /that/, post-timeskip. I think he just has difficulty growing one, Dimitri is trans, change my mind.

So yeah my proof is circumstantial hope u still like it lol, thanks again for the ask anon!

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #Dimitri fe #dorothea arnault #dorothea fe #manuela fe #bernadetta fe #yuri fe #sonya fe #genny fe #saber fe #ike fe #soren fe #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #trans hc #nb hc #my stuff

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peechbea · 5 years ago

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No one asked but I'm gonna give my Opinions on the Fire Emblem games I've played uwu

Sacred Stones

Eirika and Ephraim are babey

Seth is the Perfect Man and no one can tell me otherwise

Colm...loml.....

I've only beaten it once, but the gameplay was solid and the game gave me genuine challenge. The story was good and characters were memorable.

Overall, 7/10

Awakening

Chrom's a himbo

Gaius is also a himbo

Together they make Ultra Himbo (and a cute couple)

Validar kinda hot though 🥵

Overall, gameplay was okay! I like the pair up mechanic, but after a while one can easily manipulate it to where it feels overpowered.

Casual mode is perfect for casual players. Believe it or not, some people don't spend hours upon hours on Fire Emblem. Yes, casual players are still true fans. Moving on.

As much as I love Robin, they can easily be overpowered. After multiple playthroughs, they end up incredibly strong every time.

Chrom can do the same, actually

Speaking of difficulty, you cannot have Baby Level (aka Normal) and Normal difficulty (aka Hard), and then shoot the difficulty up to Lunatic mode aka impossible. As someone who has spent years playing this game, I still haven't made it past chapter three of Lunatic mode.

Overall? Average gameplay, great character designs even if some personalities were bland, and good story. Plus it was my first FE game so, 9/10

Shadows of Valentia

Ngl, kinda disappointed that there's no customizable MC. Obviously, it's a remake from an older game so, understandable. Still, it would have been nice to give Alm or Celica a little accessory and have it show up on their portrait or even in battle.

I never played the original so I can't compare the two, but I genuinely enjoyed the game regardless of how faithful it was to Gaiden

Saber has me like 🥵👀

Fantastic storyline and characters I loved and still love

Lacks the pair up mechanic, which made me think more and plan more strategically

Supports felt kind of short and lackluster, but I assume that's due to the original characters from Gaiden not getting enough personality to begin with. I still enjoyed what little there was.

Was the first FE game I played that had exploration you could control! Nothing feels better than walking into a dungeon and smashing barrels with a sword uwu

While I love the game, I won't be able to experience it the first time again. The story is the same every time through, which most FE games are, but it almost feels necessary to promote some units to specific classes or else you can't progress. Because of that, it sits at 7.5/10

Three Houses

Brings back the exploration, but on a wider scale!!

Took the idea that a FE game could have branching paths and made it really good!

For the first time (for me anyway), the main characters have obvious internal struggles and even mental illnesses. Though these could have been handled a liiiiittle bit better, it's certainly a step in the right direction.

Lysithea is best girl don't argue with me you're wrong

I've yet to finish any path, but I know what happens in each one and no matter which route I look at, I am amazed!

Though most seem upset at Dimitri's death in the Golden Deer route, I found it oddly appropriate. A forgotten prince driven insane by the need for revenge meeting his end by chasing the cause of most his inner turmoil just seemed. Fitting.

Great game with wonderful graphics and characters. I can definitely see me replaying this multiple times

Absolutely 9/10 (and only falls a point short because I can't customize Byleth, but they're in almost every cutscene so that would have been difficult to animate in anyway)

Fates

What....were they aiming for.

This whole game feels rushed and lazy and just. Boring.

My favorite character is Asugi and that's only because he looks like Gaius and that's enough to remind me that there's much better things out there than Fates

Plot holes galore

Birthright is too easy, Revelations is on par with Awakening's Normal difficulty, and Conquest wasn't hard as much as it was unfair

Take chapter 21 of Conquest for example. You know, the Eternal Stairway? Fuck that.

I would avoid that route entirely if it wasn't for the unsatisfying experiences that are Birhright and Revelations

Phoenix mode???? Wh,,,,WHY. Casual mode is fine, but on Phoenix there was no challenge, no threat, no strategy involved. What good is a strategy game without strategy??

Hearing"BEtRayAl" every three seconds was exhausting. Jfc.

I like that Niles was the first bisexual character, but why did he have to be dark skinned and a sleazy creep. Kinda makes it seem that all lgbtq poc are like that. Not a good thing to show the younger, easily influenced audience.

Soleil is a mess but we all knew that already.

While I enjoyed the music in the game, it's hard to find it pleasing when it was the ONLY good thing about the game.

Honestly, 4/10 and I feel bad rating it that high

Literally the only thing putting it at a solid four is the Awakening trio. If they weren't there, I'd give it a fat 0.

#fire emblem conquest #fire emblem awakening #fire emblem fates #fire emblem shadows of valentia #fire emblem the sacred stones #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem birthright #fire emblem revelation #why yes i did write this up for no reason why do u ask

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demethinkstoomuch · 4 years ago

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Deme Rates Villagers: Cubs

It’s Bears, but Smaller!

(Why didn’t I lump Bears and Cubs the way I did Cows and Bulls? Because there are a fair number of them, I think.)

I have also realized that, rather than a numerical rating, an emoticon rating might be better. I may do numbers from time to time, and so likely will not go back for the others. There will not be a scale, but a broad expression of my feelings. Or a mimic of their faces. Or a comment. Sometimes.

Disclaimer: Images are from the wiki, all good dogs, my ratings are mainly just there because “Deme gives her abstract thoughts on villagers” is hardly a catchy thing.

Aisle

Another Animal Forest E+ exclusive, another villager that looks like they came out of a Rare game like Banjo-Kazooie or Conker’s Bad Fur Day, even though this one doesn’t feature any exact equivolents. On the whole, I think the high contrast between the blue fur and the tuft of blond hair is a bad look, but the big blue eyes being sort of heavy-lidded and dour’s kind of cute.

Rating: :|

Barold

Barold is great. Like, I don’t entirely know what they’re going for with him -- he vaguely suggests either Fred Flinstone or an IT guy in my head -- but I love it either way. (Fred Flinstone: 5 o’ clock shadow, shirt. IT Guy: Eeyes have kind of a glasses shape, beard). He’s oozing with character, albeit a strange character, and do I detect little white pawsies? I do!

Rating: B’|

Bluebear

She’s a bear! She’s blue! She’s got a little white and a little pink, which gives her a nicely over-all pastel look. I like the darker blue (Fire Emblem Lord Blue, perhaps?) hair on her. She is just cute.

Rating: :)

Cheri

Another colorful bear cub, this one, pink! I like her, she’s sassy. Nice eyebrows that pair with her eyes to give her an impression of moxie that’s still quite cute. Hair is spiky, which adds to that. She’s peppy, which means that by peppy standards, she’s pretty edgy, in a weird, pink little bear way. Either way, she’s rather cute.

Rating: :]

Chester

Man, what do the Animal Crossing devs have against just letting pandas be cute? Chow, Chester... They’re both just sort of weird in a way that I find, funnily enough, more unsettling or dull than charming. Long pupils are not friend-shaped; if they leaned into the creepy, like with a goat, that would be one thing, but it rather spoils Chester. The sad-looking mouth could be cute, but it’s a bit big for that. Almost there, Chester, but just not.

Rating: :(

Cupcake

So, Cupcake is kind of Cheri, but with a half-hearted snootification effort via heavy-lidded eyeshadow eyes. Meh.

Rating: :[ (Like Cheri, but worse.)

Judy

A New Horizons new villager, and Judy is sure an aesthetic! The pastel gradients, the enormous sparkly eyes with the big shojou lashes, she just screams that she belongs in a gothic lolita girl’s arms during a photoshoot. Get this bear a lace-up dress. She could be an extra Hello Kitty collab character or something. I’m not actually a huge fan of Judy, but I cannot possibly deny that she is wonderfully what she is, and so while the agressively UWU quality to her isn’t for me, but I can’t help but applaud it. Dedication! Also, I like the subtler blush. It works.

Rating: (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

June

June is maaaybe my favorite cub, she’s just simple and pleasant-looking, without being a pastel screaming-fest, Her colorscheme and implied heavy fringe has a sort of... Like, it makes her big blue eyes and over-all cuteness read “girl next door,” sort of an ordinary, natural cute. And then you add the cute big hibiscus for a little pop that contrasts with her eyes. It’s just a real cute look. I’d probably, though, if I were to consider adopting her, check to make sure her eyes aren’t super weird when you look at them from other angles. It’s a bad fate to befall a villager.

Rating: (◕‿◕✿) (Babe, hold my flower)

Kody

Hey, look, it’s one of my starter New Leaf villagers! Kody was the last of my first villagers to move out, too, sticking around for quite a while indeed. His departure left a hole that Clyde entered through via someone’s void, and I was not happy about that. As a result, I feel fonder of Kody than I would otherwise, since otherwise, he’s just, you know, a blue bear with a darker blue spot, like many animals that are just like that except not bears. It can be charming with the right face, but there’s nothing particularly noteworthy about his face. It’s just Kody. There he is. Old chum.

Rating: ˅ u ˅ Ah, the memories...

Maple

Awwww, look at her! She’s just precious, very simple, with implied floofy bangs and bright little dot eyes. Even the pink sticker blush works better with her colors than I see in a lot of places. If June didn’t have her flowers, maybe I’d be here saying Maple’s my favorite. Maybe Maple is my favorite, I don’t know. She feels like angelfood cake, you, know? Light, pleasant, sweet...Though, admittedly, not especially flavorful. She’s just cute as she is.

Rating: ‘ ◕ w ◕ ‘

Marty

Ah, a Sanrio villager! ...Not one of the cuter ones, really. Looks sort of like a honey jar bear to me, which is, I suppose, something. His eyebrows have an unassuming quality, like he’s just a normal guy.

Rating: Normal Guy / Guys

Murphy

Remember everything I said about Kody? Yeah, still true about Murphy. His coloring is just sort of “spotted bear,” now in green. But! He does have big square eyebrows and big square eyes, which give him a bit of extra character, reliably and kinda sleepy. A good face.

Rating = w = (A good thing, I promise.)

Olive

Olive is a villager I’ve heard compared to Maple a lot -- it’s the shirt, I suppose, but really, more than that. Her color scheme is also pretty naturalistic and grounded, she has a cute bang outline. She doesn’t push the cute as hard, but that might make her more comfortable, less out-and-out cutesy to folks. That said, her eyes just have that quality I found with the birds, where something about them, paired with the surprised eyebrows, that feels kinda blank, like they reveal nothing. Staring. These eyes have seen too much. But she’s still pretty cute, won’t lie.

Rating: O-O

Pekoe

Aww, isn’t she cute? This screenshot makes her look more cream-colored than I’m used to thinking of her as, a dramatic bonus to her over-all level of adorable. Pekoe’s use of ears to suggest little covered hair-buns is pretty flavorful; it makes me wonder if they almost wanted to make a cute, very on-theme panda, and then decided “No, let’s just make her a white bear, good enough.” Still, her face is cute, too, with a distinct set of eyes carrying through the same sort of design sensibilities as her hair and ears/buns, intensely stylized. It’s a nice look.

Rating: :)

Poko

What is with the shape of his head? You all see that, right, where his head is a totally different, longer, shape? Why? What does it mean? Is it meant to be like a mask? If it were meant to be a long mask, that’d be cool. I don’t think it is? It’s a mystery that he would need another appearance to solve, and that’s not happening.

Rating: ? :/

Poncho

Poncho’s cute. He’s basically just blue Olive, though the bangs are less fwooshy. Still, I find him a bit cuter than Olive, because the oval eyes sort of soften the effect of round on round on round that looks strange and staring; this is a bit more cartoony and cute. That’s about it from me. Pretty cute.

Rating: 0 ˅ 0

Pudge

Oh, Pudge looks so sad and alone! I want to hug and protect him! I’ve checked other screenshots, that’s just how Pudge’s face is, and it’s so precious! I do not get the freen on the ears and tip of tail, though. I do not understand why this is a thing, and I cannot say I approve of it. It’s kind of a distracting negative among this otherwise adorable design of a baby I just want to protect!

Rating: (> ‘ . ’)> Come here and let me hug you!

Stitches

OK, so, maybe if it’s not June or Maple, maybe Stitches is best cub. Certainly, he’s the most thematically strong, with this adorable patchwork teddybear design! His eyes evoke a really cute version of his name, little stitches. Just adorable and aesthetically on-point and I’m really happy to see him. I could see him with a place on my island, if I only didn’t have too many villagers I could see with a place.

Rating :D or, alternatively, XwX just for him.

Tammy

Oh, it’s almost all the things I dislike in a villager design. Random colors without real cohesion or purpose, just “well, this is a colorful animal” that clash with other randomly-selected colors (orange blush, deep rose eyeshadow, pale pink inner ears, white muzzle/paws, brown bangs) with eyeshadowed eyes to say “Hey this is a snooty” without going all-in for glamor-comedy? I think we’ve hit bingo. Funnily enough, I think this might be my least-favorite cub.

Rating: :(

Vladimir

Vladimir is ugly with dedication. Vladimir is ugly with a passion. Vladimir is ugly with soul and purpose. Buck teeth and that flatly furrowed, thin, no-brow-unibrow! Those awful bangs! Truly, Vladimir is an artist’s study in ugly-cute. I can’t say that it works to vaunt him into a villager I’d really love to have around, but I can profoundly respect him.

Rating: ಠ ῳ ಠ

The cubs are good, in conclusion. A good mix of aesthetics, and at least 3 I rather like, which is a good number. Also, I got to whip out some Japanese emoticons, and isn’t that important?

#Deme Rates Villagers #Animal Crossing #Cubs #stitches animal crossing

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machinequeen4 · 5 years ago

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Fic rec bingo list!

I thought I’d fill out this fic rec bingo card, posted by @lightveils on Twitter!

It sort of turned into the History of MachineQueen in Fanfiction. All you unsung heroes who write and publish fanfic, I love you and remember your names.

Recs for Fire Emblem Fates, Fire Emblem Three Houses, Yu-gi-oh, Doctor Who, RWBY, Ace Attorney, Tales of Graces follow!

1. A fic you love without knowing the source material

Undone - codenamecynic, Dragon Age II, E rated, Fenris/Female Hawke, multichap 135k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/482156/chapters/838851

I know nothing about Dragon Age and can’t remember why I decided to read it. TV Tropes maybe? From what I can tell it’s the events of the game with additional sex scenes. Hawke is witty, Fenris is a tragic broken bird, I was sold.

2. A fic with a premise that shouldn’t work but it does

Trial and Error - undieshogun, Fire Emblem Fates, T rated, Subaki/Takumi, multichap 15k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6890677/chapters/15719992

Not so much a premise but a ship I wasn’t convinced on. But it had Subaki in it so I gave it a try. It’s really cute - Subaki tries to teach Takumi social skills, much to his annoyance.

This line alone is gold star characterisation:

"I couldn't tell you why Tsubaki has taken such a liking to you, but I do know that any time he wants to befriend someone, it's because he sees in them something he lacks."

3. A fic you’ve reread several times

Gratitude - GoldenThreads, Fire Emblem Three Houses, T rated, Hubert/Ferdinand, multichap 8k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344273/chapters/48239686

The writing style is so beautifully layered that I find new meaning every time I read it. The scene where Ferdinand offers a hairpin for each story Hubert tells is gorgeous, one of my favourites to reread.

4. A fic you still remember many years later

A Song I Think I Heard Before - Scribbler, Yu-gi-oh, T rated, Mai/Jounouchi (Joey), multichap 40k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5924028/1/A_Song_I_Think_I_Heard_Before

My favourite Mai fic. This gives her a backstory with Dartz based villainy and recontextualises her relationship with Jou (Joey in the dub, most YGO authors used the JP names to distance themselves from 4Kids’ added cheese). I was on tenterhooks waiting for each new chapter. It’s got real emotional depth, capturing Mai’s cynical nature perfectly. Also I still think about/use the phrase bumblefuck in the morning.

5. A comfort fic

just a little stuck on you (you’ll be on me too) - flowermoons, Fire Emblem Three Houses, T rated, Hubert/Ferdinand, one chap 33k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21875707

This brings the cast of FE3H to the modern world and drops them into reality TV show The X Factor. There’s no war or death angst, just a singing contest. I grew up with The X Factor on TV on a Saturday night so this was a delight. Like me, the author is cynical about reality TV which makes the fic even more engaging. Ferdinand mourning his long hair after he cuts it and Hubert running round London looking for him really made my day.

6. A catharthic fic

Long and Lost - Windian, Tales of Graces, M rated, Richard/Asbel, multichap 36k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5357546/chapters/12372899

Listen game, you can’t spend 40 hours having the protagonist’s motivation as ‘save Richard’ and then pull a no homo on me! In this fic Asbel dutifully marries Cheria only for the whole thing to collapse in on itself when he realises he’s in love with Richard after all. The snow storm scene is something I’ll always remember.

7. A fic you’d like to print and put on your bookshelf

Revival series - MyAibou, Yu-gi-oh, T rated, multiship, many k

http://fanfiction.net/s/2681684/1/Revival-Prologue-Paradox

This is split into multiple parts and has another multipart followup. A continuation of Yu-gi-oh Duel Monsters with shipping and very decent original characters including villains. My polarshipping heart is in love with this scene on the clifftop in part 2 chapter 11 - a slow dance to the sound of the waves to help Mai remember she isn’t alone *melts into a puddle*

8. A fic you associate with a song

Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been - darkrunner, Yu-gi-oh, rated K+, Mai/Jou, multichap 9k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4445992/1/Who-I-Am-Hates-Who-I-ve-Been

It’s titled after a song. This was one of the first fics I ever found, read and loved. I was way too shy to review but I loved this author dearly. Good old angst & hurt/comfort with a happy ending. A happy ending for Mai was all I wanted haha!

9. A fic that inspires you

Patience, Ponies and Pastries - GoldenThreads, Fire Emblem Three Houses, T rated, Hubert/Ferdinand, multichap, 27k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20722859/chapters/49231019

A shipping fic where the two characters being shipped spend most of the fic apart! This author is so good at characterising the pair, there are treasures hidden throughout. I never thought reading about horses of all things could make me so emotional...

And this passage from Ferdinand’s point of view:

As long as Hubert did not truly reject such affection, did not throw him in the stocks for his bleeding heart, then he did not require reciprocation. He required that Hubert be cherished, and that was that.

10. A fic that brought you on board a new ship

Marik and Bakura Go To Censored Town - Little Kuriboh, Yu-gi-oh, M rated, multichap, 24k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6954805/1/Marik-Bakura-Go-To-Censored-Town

I spent most of my Yu-gi-oh fandom life wishing there were more fics about Mai and tended to avoid the big slash ships. However, Yu-gi-oh Abridged’s strongest pair were always Marik and Bakura. When I read this fic I realised yes, Marik being an idiot and Bakura being the straight man (not literally) makes this ship sing.

11. A fic you wish could be a movie

Denial & Deception - Bohemienne, Fire Emblem Three Houses, M rated, multichap, 74k (incomplete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895731/chapters/49671050

The setting of Derdriu is so lushly described that it would make a wonderful movie setting. Additional points for the masked ball chapters!

Hubert and Ferdinand infiltrate the Leicester Alliance using a fake relationship. It goes as well as you might expect. There is comedy, there is romance and the whole thing makes you want to smack Hubert round the face with a fish.

12. A fic that led to you making friends with the author

Past Future Continuous - HermitsUnited, Doctor Who, T rated, multichap 20k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4917490/1/Past-Future-Continuous

We are not in contact anymore but we shared a love of Donna Noble. This shines through in all her alternate season 5 fics!

13. A fic you’ve gushed about IRL

Festering Under Your Skin - Bohemienne, Fire Emblem Three Houses, M rated, multichap 52k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20465312/chapters/48559553

My poor gf had to put up with me going on about this one. Lady Edelgard is dead and Ferdinand is a Blue Lion who spares Hubert. All of this is played for maximum dramatic potential. Special marks for the scene where Ferdinand accidentally poisons himself with Hubert’s coffee. So brilliantly in character for both of them. And excellently foreshadowed earlier in the fic where an imprisoned Hubert keeps asking for his coffee...

14. A fic you associate with a place

Heart of Defiance - battlemage15, RWBY, M rated, multichap 150k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7896874/chapters/18038116

I downloaded this to my phone and read it on the top deck of the number 6 bus as it bumped along the country roads of deepest Devon. I was on my way to job interviews in the city and the trip was 2 hours long. The fic itself is a Yang centric shonen power fantasy that goes to pretty dark places.

15. A fic that made you gasp out loud

Blood and Ink - ShowMeYourFury, RWBY, M rated, Cinder/Ruby, multichap 45k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11754595/1/Blood-and-Ink

This fic is ruthless with Cinder’s villainy. Every time you think she can’t go any further, she does. I love it.

16. A fic you found at the right time

Forward - Lyricanna, Fire Emblem Fates, not rated, multichap, 34k (incomplete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12747516/chapters/29075913

I love the concept of this fic so much. Subaki is selected to be a Hoshidan ambassador in Nohr and gets lumped with Niles as a guide. Neither is having a good time. There is a plot going on involving kidnapping and asassination that forces them to work together.

17. A fic that you would read fic of

The Obligatory Hot Spring Scene - Scribbler, Yu-gi-oh, T rated, oneshot, sub 1k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6368612/1/The-Obligatory-Hot-Spring-Scene

Written as though the characters are actors and canon is a TV show. I love this concept and would read more in a similar vein

18. A fic that made you laugh out loud

Surrender To Your Peace - spiralpegasus, Fire Emblem Three Houses, M rated, Sylvain/Felix, one chap, 11k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20757260

“This is very unfortunate,” Dimitri says with a frown. “As the leader of this mission, I will take full responsibility and use the Swamp Bedroll.”

One does not simply sacrifice themselves to He Who Saw The Bottom Of The Earth And Lived with such a cavalier attitude. “You know your guilt complex doesn’t actually have to extend to sleeping in a gross swamp bag,” Sylvain tells him disbelievingly.

“I agree, Your Highness,” Dedue says, setting He Whose Stench Haunts The Dreams Of Man down on the ground with a delicate sort of distaste. “None of us need use this… bedroll.” He says bedroll the same way he says food when it’s Flayn’s turn to cook.

19. A fic with a line or two you’ve memorised by heart

one sentiment enlightens to another - newamsterdam, Fire Emblem Three Houses, G rated, Hubert/Ferdinand, oneshot 6k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074840

Ferdinand rolls his eyes. “Of course I do, Hubert. I remember very well. I just— well. Perhaps I’ve overestimated you.”

Hubert, who has spent the better part of the past few weeks believing he constantly underestimates Ferdinand, bristles.

Not the exact lines but I always keep this in mind when writing the ship. I think these hit on the fundamental misunderstanding between the two characters. Hubert is only human, not some all powerful hero/villain. And Ferdinand isn’t stupid just because he’s honest and emotional. I think the two of them have trouble getting their heads round these concepts!

20. A fic that gave you butterflies

Ataraxia - Windian, Tales of Graces, T rated, Cheria/Pascal, 13k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7828981/chapters/17871247

"I want you," Cheria tells her, and the night catches like a rubber band. Her hands are in Pascal's hair, Pascal's arms around hers, her mouth on hers. Their kisses are sloppy and messy, noses knocking against one another, but it's everything and it's nothing at all like kissing Asbel.

When they break for air, Pascal tells her, "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this, Cheria."

Cheria asks, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I dunno Cheria, because you were gonna marry Asbel, maybe?"

It stops her in her tracks. Voice low, she asks, "What am I going to tell him?"

Pascal cups either side of her face. Kisses her, so hot and hard that Cheria's left seeing stars, clinging at the strings of Pascal's swimsuit like a shipwrecked sailor to a spar.

"Screw it. Think about it in the morning. For once in your life, do something you want."

21. A fic that embodies something you value in life

The Truth About Love - MistressAkira, Fire Emblem Fates, T rated, Niles/Subaki, 2k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12036081

This fic is experimental in style - the author descrbes it as a soliloquy. The sentiment I take from it is that love is compromising, inconvenient, illogical. Yet it’s still something beautiful and something worth fighting for.

22. A favourite AU

Mobius - SirTeateiMoonlight, Xenoblade Chronicles, T rated, multichap, 17k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17845748/chapters/42111473

Melia finds a copy of Xenoblade, plays it and knows exactly what’s going on in the story. She uses this knowledge to her advantage. It’s a slippery slope. By the end of the story she’s mercilessly torturing Lorothia against her brother’s wishes.

23. A fic you’ve stayed up late to finish reading

Dirty Sympathy - ideny, Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney, M rated, Klavier/Apollo, 130k on AO3 not sure on kink meme

https://bludhavens.livejournal.com/88397.html?thread=41790541#t41790541

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075868/chapters/2160789

I stayed up reading this until 4am and for some reason (probably tiredness) confessed this to my not-yet-gf. She cites this as one of the moments she fell for me!

It’s a dark fic in which Klavier and Apollo are both in abusive relationships with villains. They concoct a plot to implicate the two of them in criminal activities to escape and fall for each other along the way.

24. A fic that made you feel seen

i knew you were trouble - Magepaw, Fire Emblem Fates, M rated, Niles/Subaki, 8k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19314568

First of all the title is one of my favourite songs. Second of all the dialogue is everything I want from the Niles/Subaki ship. Third Subaki’s pegasus makes her presence known. Fourth there is a gory battle scene and hurt/comfort gone wrong. And fifth, a happy ending.

Niles had to turn away, hand pressed to his mouth, before his own blush betrayed him. This was too good to last. This had to be the most embarrassingly vulnerable moment of his entire life, and of course the entirety of the Nohrian and Hoshidan military combined had to be there to see Niles go soft.

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disneyslament · 5 years ago

Link

Rating: General Audiences

Pairing: f!Byleth/Dedue

Summary: Byleth takes care of the greenhouse in Dedue's absence, but it feels lonely without him.

The Flower of Duscur

Despite the loss suffered by Garreg Mach in the five years of war while Byleth slept, the sturdy glass of the greenhouse remained intact. Within, flowers thrived of all species. Amidst all the death and destruction five years of war brought, life continued here, flourished even. Byleth didn’t understand how exactly. Without anyone present at the monastery to water the plants, how was it so many of them survived?

Garreg Mach remained a ghost town now, even with her old students back roaming the halls. Dimitri spent most of his time alone and muttering to himself, while the others reconnected with each other after so long apart. To Byleth, it was all a bit overwhelming, so she found herself in the greenhouse searching for solace after a long day.

She reached a hand, scarred and callused from her many years working as a mercenary, to one of the most beautiful of the flowers. It grew barely an inch above the soil, but its pink blossoms stood out amongst the green shrubbery surrounding it where the weeds grew out of control.

“They are from Duscur,” Dedue told her once, when she was but a teacher and he but a simple student, alive and well. “They require a dry environment. The roots will rot otherwise.”

Now that her attention focused on these pink flowers, she noticed that they spread from their corner where Dedue once pointed them out to almost the entirety of the greenhouse floor. This explained why the greenhouse appeared to be thriving despite the lack of care: the flowers of Duscur survived all this time without water. They were used to being independent.

Duscur… Dedue…

It felt like no time at all passed since Byleth last saw everyone in that fateful battle at Garreg Mach, and yet…

Everyone and everything changed.

And the solitude of this greenhouse wouldn’t be the same without Dedue.

~~~

“I thought I might be able to find you in here, Professor.”

Byleth relaxed from her kneeling position and sat cross-legged on the floor. She took off her gardening gloves and wiped her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand, smearing a coat of dirt on her skin. Ashe sat down next to her and smiled, picking up the spade she had been using to dig up the brown remains of plants buried beneath the green.

“We’re all worried about His Highness, but I want you to know that we’re worried about you, too,” Ashe said, reaching into the thick of it and gently scooping up a small pile of dry soil. “You can’t fix everything by yourself. I’d be happy to help out here.”

“You do know more than I do about plants,” Byleth admitted. But something tugged within her, something unfamiliar, and she squeezed the gloves in her hands. “Ah, well, I think I’ve got this mostly taken care of, though. If you don’t mind helping out in the kitchen? I’m sure the others would rather eat your cooking than mine.”

Ashe nodded, letting the soil fall back to the ground. “That sounds fair. Is there anything specific that you would like to eat? We don’t have much, but I can try to make something with what we have.”

Byleth shook her head and slipped her hands back into the gardening gloves. She yanked at a weed in between a few pink blossoms and added it to her growing pile between herself and Ashe. Ashe said his goodbyes and had just made it to the creaking greenhouse doors when Byleth stopped again and turned to look back at him.

“Hold on, Ashe.”

His hand lingered on the ornate, but dusty, door. “Did you think of something, Professor?”

“Did Dedue ever teach you any recipes from Duscur?”

Her voice was quieter than usual. Byleth never said much, as all the Blue Lions knew, but Ashe had never heard her so timid before, almost as if she was embarrassed to say it. Byleth, and most of her class of students, got along well with Dedue. Only Ingrid and Felix didn’t have many nice things to say about him.

So, why the embarrassment?

Still, it wasn’t Ashe’s place to question it. He just smiled at his professor. “He taught me a couple of them. I doubt it will be much the same as his cooking, but I can try to recreate one of them for supper tonight if you like.”

“I would like that,” she responded and returned to work weeding the garden.

~~~

No one would suspect it—or if they did, they would never speak aloud of it—but the guilt hit Byleth hard. Her time alone in the greenhouse was both cathartic and isolating, and it allowed her to think about all she missed during those years.

She let her students down. If she had been there, what fate would have befallen the Kingdom? Surely she alone would not have made all the difference, but she could have kept Dimitri from falling down this dark path he now carved for himself. She could have kept the Blue Lions together, organized them into a team sooner than now. Maybe she could have saved Dedue.

It was no use thinking about the “what ifs” of five years’ time. All the same, Byleth kept running the possibilities through her mind. She had been unable to save her father, and now she had been unable to help her students—her friends.

All she could do now was prove herself on the battlefield as a leader. They managed to defend themselves against the Imperial troops who came to take back Garreg Mach, thanks in part to Byleth’s direction. The following moon, they secured troops at Ailell, despite a setback thanks to a rat in their forces.

But were those just flukes? Did Byleth know what she was doing?

The first real test of their strength and Byleth’s leadership skills would be taking the Great Bridge of Myrddin. Thanks to Claude, passage through Gloucester territory would be mostly smooth, leaving their small army to deal with just the Imperial army guarding the bridge. This would be no small feat, especially since Byleth needed to constantly watch Dimitri out of the corner of her eye to make sure he didn’t risk all their lives.

Byleth could not imagine what sort of horrors Dimitri saw in the five years she slept. She would say he had changed, except she suspected this had been within him all the time she knew him. Not even Rodrigue’s presence soothed the beast, as she hoped it might, and his behavior put everyone else on edge, too.

She understood, of course. He had been right, just now. She took up her sword in pursuit of Monica five years ago… all for revenge. And Dimitri told her back then, too, that the only reason he came to the Officers Academy was for revenge. If she stepped in his shoes, would she also thirst for revenge as he did?

But Felix was right, too. They had all lost someone, some sooner than others. Felix lost his brother, Ingrid her fiancé, Ashe his parents and adoptive father, Mercedes her mother, Annette her father even as he stood there with them, Sylvain his brother, Byleth her father. Still, they fought on. Still, they retained their humanity.

So, all Byleth could do was make sure no one else got lost, too.

All part of the job, she told herself as they got into formation on the bridge. She could see the wheels turning in Dimitri’s head through his visible eye, but when he noticed her looking, he glared at her and turned away.

“Attack Ladislava and take the bridge,” Rodrigue ordered. “Shall we begin?”

Byleth raised her left hand, the one free of the Sword of the Creator, and let it linger in the air for a moment. She wondered if anyone noticed how she shook.

“Attack!” she shouted, lowering her hand like a whip.

They fought on, the clashing of metal on metal like a symphony in the background. It was only when an unexpected voice broke through the chorus that Byleth hesitated, and her opponent got in a hit. Ashe fired an arrow, knocking down the man who clipped Byleth’s shoulder.

She put pressure on the wound but turned back without much attention to the battle around her anymore. And for the first time in the many moons since their reunion, Byleth saw humanity on Dimitri’s face once again, if only for a moment.

“Dedue…”

The sound stopped. Byleth’s ears rang as soon as she heard Dimitri say that name, and she looked further back to see the man of Duscur she believed dead standing among their ranks.

Lips moved, words exchanged, and Byleth heard none of it. It wasn’t until a hand smacked down on her opposite shoulder than she was thrown back into reality. “Pay attention!” Felix yelled. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

Right. Now wasn’t the time. She had to make it through this battle alive, make sure they all made it through this battle alive, and then she could disappear into herself again. What sort of illusion could this be to distract her so during an important battle like this?

An illusion… yes, an illusion. Was it so?

~~~

The Blue Lions, reunited once again, gathered for supper the next evening upon their return to Garreg Mach. Only two members of their former House were absent from this celebration both of victory and of Dedue’s return.

The two members who needed to be there and were not.

No one was surprised by Dimitri’s absence. He had not joined his old classmates for a meal since their reunion, leaving Felix to suspect that he feasted on the remains of wild animals to satisfy his lust for blood, much to Ingrid’s disgust.

But Byleth? She went out of her way to make sure no one ever ate alone, even if that meant she sat with an empty plate while the other person ate. For her not to be here with everyone meant something was wrong.

Instead, Byleth sat in the silence of the greenhouse. The trickling of rain hitting the glass roof soothed her like a lullaby as she pulled out more weeds. There seemed to be an endless amount. No matter how many invaders she removed, more always appeared. She never had the touch when it came to keeping them out.

The sound of rain prevented Byleth from hearing another person entering the greenhouse. She continued her work, wiping the sweat from her face with her muddy arm.

In the dark, one might have confused the beads of sweat on her cheeks for tears.

She jumped when she noticed another person knelt beside her. “Dedue! You shouldn’t be here!”

“My apologies for startling you, Professor. The others were wondering where you were, and Ashe suggested I might find you here to invite you to dinner,” Dedue said. His voice had not changed, not like Dimitri’s had, in the past five years.

“No, I’m… I’m busy, I…” Byleth dropped her gloves to her side and stood up. “You need to go back and tell the others I’m not coming.”

Dedue stood, as well. He always towered over her—over everyone, really. But he was the only one who she needed to look up to, literally, and to others, it could be intimidating. Byleth, though, found comfort in his size.

And Goddess, how she missed him. Standing by his side now looking up into his green eyes, she remembered the connection she felt with him. And he had been dead, he had been gone, just like she had. But only she remembered it all like it was yesterday. Those five years did not exist to her.

“Very well.” Dedue bowed and turned to leave. Byleth watched him, making sure he really left. Then it was just the rain trickling again.

She sighed and hurried out after him. “Dedue!” she called, holding a hand over her brow to shield her eyes from the rain.

He turned back. “Yes?”

“Come back to the greenhouse tomorrow morning.”

He nodded, and then continued through the rain back to the dining hall. Byleth stood in the rain for a minute longer watching him disappear into the darkness, until she couldn’t see him through the rain anymore.

For now, it was back to work.

~~~

The work took all night, and the sun barely had risen before Dedue entered the greenhouse as per Byleth’s request. She knew him to be an early riser, always the first to awaken in case Dimitri needed anything, but sometimes she beat him to the greenhouse on a rare occasion. Spending the entire night there guaranteed she’d be first.

She nearly dozed off a couple of times in the night, but she fought through the weight that sat on her eyelids. By the time Dedue arrived, though, sleep captivated her, and she lay on the floor with one hand still in the soil.

“Professor,” Dedue tried first, as putting his hands on her seemed wrong somehow. When she did not stir, no other choice could be made. He put a hand on her shoulder, careful not to touch the bandages covering her wound from the other day’s battle. “Professor, wake up.”

She stirred, groaning slightly as she rolled onto her back. Blinking the fog away, she sat up when her vision cleared enough to see Dedue above her.

“Dedue!”

“This is not an appropriate location to rest. I advise you to return to your quarters and get some rest,” he said.

Byleth scrambled to her feet, brushing the dirt off her clothes as best she could. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m glad you came.”

Like Byleth, Dedue did not often display his emotions clearly on his face, but his eyes betrayed the confusion he felt. “Yesterday you said that I did not belong here, and today you are glad I am here.”

Byleth winced as the words she said returned to her. “I’m sorry. It came out wrong. I didn’t want you to see the greenhouse until it was ready. I’ve been working the past few moons on it to get it back to its former glory, but…” Byleth held out her hand and stepped out of the way of her work. “This is all I could do.”

In the light of day, the greenhouse came to life. Dedue’s gaze fell on the pink flowers of Duscur first. The weeds had been removed completely, leaving the flowers at the forefront. They were no longer hidden away in the corner as they had been before, but directly in the middle where everyone could see them right when they walked into the greenhouse. The other flowers had been clipped and nurtured, complementing the pink flowers below like a crown might add magnificence.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Dedue walked around the greenhouse, leaning in to examine Byleth’s work every now and again. He touched a few leaves, his fingertips brushing the green so delicately that one might think the leaf would shatter with anything more.

Last, he stopped back in front of the pink flowers and knelt down. He grabbed the shears from where Byleth left them on the ground and carefully snipped a flower away from the others.

“There is no literal translation into the language of Fódlan for the name of this flower, but it might be closest to call it the Beauty of the North,” Dedue explained, setting the shears down and standing back up. The little flower appeared so tiny in his large hands. “This flower is native to the northernmost part of Duscur and thrives in the permafrost. There is no reason it should have survived here.”

“It must be adaptable,” Byleth suggested.

“Or it must have had a reason to survive.” Dedue reached up and snaked the stem of the flower beneath Byleth’s headband by her ear.

Byleth smiled, touching the petals of the flower in her hair. “We all have our reasons.”

Dedue nodded and turned to look back down at the flowers of Duscur. “It is good to see you again, Professor.”

“You, too, Dedue.”

Whatever reasons the Beauty of the North had for surviving, and whatever reasons they all had for living, it was easier to survive together. And for the first time in five years, the silence of the greenhouse did not feel so lonely anymore.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #fe16 #f!byleth #dedue molinaro #byleth x dedue

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benisasoftboi · 5 years ago

Text

Unorganised thoughts on Silver Snow:

When I finished Golden Deer, I said that it had felt like a more traditional Fire Emblem story than Blue Lions. Silver Snow is that but even more so (though GD is still the most trad-FE cast, IMO)

Having already played those two routes, it felt very much like a whirlwind tour of them both, plus another battle thrown in at the end - a battle that probably should have been harder, but I (completely accidentally) built the bulkiest Byleth imaginable, especially resistance wise, plus high magic - and so, by pairing high defensive stats with Nosferatu, I tanked every attack that came my way

Gaming, for me, is just doing whatever the hell I feel like, stumbling into good results, and then pretending that I did it on purpose

I spent the whole battle with the Dragon Tales theme song stuck in my head. Kind of killed the mood

I really enjoyed that after wrapping up both the Edelgard and TWSITD plots, they basically Persona 4 you by trying to convince you that the whole game’s done now and all that’s left is to chat with everyone - though unlike in P4, there’s very obviously something left to do because they give you a whole month of prep time, rather than just one day

I felt the same way about this on Golden Deer - none of the characters are appropriately shocked by Rhea’s highly questionable actions

Also - she says she’s going to explain the whole truth! And she doesn’t! Only the Byleth creation stuff! The other revelations from Golden Deer are missing! Rhea! Why! Are! You! Like! This!

This is actually a problem I have with this game as a whole - they want to keep certain lore and secrets exclusive to certain routes, but it results in every story feeling in some way incomplete. Like, Fates gets a lot of crap, but at least you did get a full story from your half (third? never played Revelation) a game for the price of a whole one. Blue Lions gets the worst of it, I think

Plus, when you know some of said secrets, it makes characters who refuse to share them in other routes seem weirdly (and sometimes, contrivedly) cagey about things they really do not need to be cagey about. See: Claude refusing to tell Dimitri and Byleth in Azure Moon that he wants to End Racism, and instead vagueing about ‘achieving his dream’. This is not Edelgard wanting to conquer Fodlan and dismantle the entire social structure, Claude, your ideals really are not so controversial that you need to be this coy. Dimitri and I are cool, we getcha

My one sentence review of the whole game is basically: Great characters, great world building, great gameplay - but really, really frustrating plot structure

I’m also really upset that Seteth does not have a dragon form

Speaking of Seteth, I married him this time around. I mostly decided to do it for laughs, but while Byleth/Dedue is still my number one Byleth pairing, I came to really, genuinely like them together. Seteth is one of my favs, now more than ever

It helps that romancing Seteth feels a lot less... creepy than romancing most of the students. I like Linhardt, but romancing him felt very weird to me because I couldn’t get over Byleth having first known him as a 16 year old under their care. Dedue, for the record, doesn’t elicit this response because he doesn’t really feel as much like a student to me? Role-wise he feels a lot closer to the knights, and it’s just that he's been enrolled as a student for convenience’s sake, which makes him and Byleth feel more equal than they do with most of the other kids. Helps that he’s also on the older end

Anyway, Seteth and Byleth would be the nerdiest couple ever, is the impression I got from their ending. The confession scene made me laugh in how ‘oh we’ve got a lot of work to do - btw wanna get married? - sweet, now let’s get back to work’ it was. Mark Whitten is a gem

It’s also the the first time I felt like the game was actually shipping me with a main lord (Seteth taking that role in the absence of the box lords on this route). Haven’t done Crimson Flower yet, so no opinion on the Edelgard/Byleth relationship yet, but regarding Claude and Dimitri my (pretty damn controversial, possibly a bad idea to put out there) opinions on them with Byleth are that

Claude and Byleth are platonic bros, regardless of Byleth’s gender. I just don’t get any feeling of romance from their relationship at all, and so pairing them off feels weird (to me, personally - I don’t hate the ship or anything, though)

Meanwhile Dimitri 100% had a crush on his teacher at school, but after more than five years of enduring trauma after trauma, and then half a year of beginning to heal (whilst fighting a war culminating in the execution of his step-sister), Dimitri is nowhere near ready for a romantic relationship. And when he is, I wouldn’t want him with any of the main cast, Dimitri x Village Girl OTP. I guess if it has to be anyone, I’d be okay with Mercedes, maybe Marianne - hell, maybe even Claude - but really, I just want him to get a fresh start. I think that’s the healthiest option for him, in the end

I do think it’s a pairing that could work in an AU where Dimitri doesn’t have any of the experiences he has in canon, though

And again, this is just my personal reading

I’ll also admit that I may be influenced by the fact that his two most popular pairings are with Byleth and Dedue, who I greatly prefer with each other. Mostly because I love Dedue with all my soul and his ending with Byleth is by far his happiest, in my eyes at least. It’s the only one where he puts some distance between himself and Dimitri and evens out the power balance in their relationship, which makes me happy because oh boy, the Dimitri/Dedue relationship is super interesting and compelling, but also (again, by my reading) all kinds of unhealthy as it’s presented for most of the game - power balance issues like I say, the fact that they tend to indulge, even encourage, each other’s worst instincts and behaviours, mutual guilt complexes - like I say, it’s fascinating, but damn screwed up. IMO, they’re one of the best examples I’ve seen of how unhealthy relationships aren’t always the result of one bad person, and how two good people can end up being very bad for each other

Though it is, again, a pairing I can see working (and actually being incredibly cute) in an AU where they’ve lived less horrible lives

And it’s not like I don’t want them to be friends, I just want them to also develop healthier boundaries and equal levels of respect

oh my god none of this has anything to do with silver snow what am I doing

But hey, speaking of Dimitri - I flip flopped on whether I thought his death was handled better or worse here than Golden Deer. It was given, I felt, more appropriate gravitas, but again suffered from ‘Dimitri’s dead! No, Dimitri’s alive! Oh wait, now he’s dead again’ in like, three successive scenes. And then you see his... ghost? I guess?

Dimitri really seems to get the short end of the stick on routes outside his own. Claude’s non-Deer roles were, in both cases I’ve played, much stronger and more fitting, and Edelgard is Edelgard

Maybe he’ll be good in Crimson Flower. Please. I miss Dimitri mattering. He’s probably my favourite of the three

There’s a point - obviously I don’t fully know Edelgard yet, but from what I got from the White Clouds section, above anything else she strikes me as an incredibly realistic depiction of a slightly edgy, extremely idealistic, but also highly naive and short-sighted teenager

Her whole goal, it seems, is meritocracy. She hates the crest system and the nobility, and she wants to create a system of equal opportunity. I can get behind that, but I really hope she’s prepared to accept the fact that true equal opportunity is basically impossible without recreating The Giver, as inequality is always more complex than one single factor being to blame for everything. Has Edelgard considered other limitations that make true meritocracy difficult to achieve? Has she been working on, say, a comprehensive benefits system? Or is she more of a libertarian type, and so primarily all about negative freedom and removing direct oppression? I hope Crimson Flower goes into detail on this, I’d be genuinely interested to know

I also find it interesting that she gets very angry about the fact that people hurt her and her family as a means to their own ends, so she decides that her own ends are to eliminate the system that lead to that happening - and she doesn’t care who she has to hurt in the process

This isn’t a CinemaSins *ding* plot hole observation, I genuinely think it’s interesting, and not actually that unrealistic

I also suppose her goal is no less naive than End All Racism By Being Nice To People, but Claude isn’t killing and persecuting people in attempt to achieve that, so it invites less scrutiny

I do wonder if I would have felt more strongly positively about her if she’d been my first playthrough. I do believe she’s a person that sincerely means well, and she’s certainly sympathetic, but - hmm. I’ll make my mind up when I finish CF

Anyway, paired endings. A few that I got include Raphael and Bernadetta (by far my favourite Bernie ending so far, seriously, what is that Caspar ending), Shamir and Leonie, which was cute and goofy (as Leonie’s endings tend to be, I notice, I do like that girl), Felix and Dorothea (not my favourite for either, but cute), Sylvain and Mercedes (the same but even cuter), Cyril and Petra (which felt wrong, partly because I love Cysithea a hell of a lot, and also because despite knowing there’s only about a year between them, Petra looks so much older pre-time skip), Ferdie and Marianne (super wholesome and sweet), and Linhardt and Caspar (my boyyyyssss that I refuse to ever separate again)

Not sure what I’m going to aim for on CF aside from keeping those boys together and also Ferdie/Hubert, as I’ve Heard Things

Flayn and Manuela have an A support so I figured they had a paired ending and it turns out they do not, which means Manuela was alone forever and Flayn ran away because apparently she hated having Byleth for a step mother I guess, rude

My Byleth (Myleth?) was prepared to be the best step mother in the history of the world, so offended

I realised ‘Javelins of Light’ is one of my absolute favourite tracks in the whole game. Mostly because it sounds like something out of Danganronpa, which made me nostalgic

I also like ‘Guardian of Starlight’ for somehow managing to sound like a Danganronpa/PMD: Explorers crossover track

I love how out of nowhere the Immaculate One fight is. It really does just feel like they needed something to distinguish the route from Verdant Wind outside of Claude not being around, so they just had a map that was less cool in every way except for the dragon

Is there an explanation for why Nemesis doesn’t show up on this route?

Also - I didn’t mention this in Golden Deer thoughts but I also found that final battle way, way easier than it was probably meant to be because I’d made everyone into a flier and so the floor damage hazard was meaningless

Which I totally did on purpose and not so I could make a stupid joke post about my all-wyvern team

Anyway, in conclusion, Silver Snow was a good route, I enjoyed it more than I thought I would (I’d kind of thought it was just going to be GD without Claude, which isn’t... totally wrong, but it’s got some other stuff going on too), I liked Seteth getting to have a bigger role, I thought it had the best final boss (if not the best final boss map), and I liked that I got some more Dragon Lore (never a bad thing)

please don’t yell at me for my controversial shipping opinions

#fire emblem #fe3h #silver snow #silver snow spoilers #golden deer spoilers #verdant wind spoilers #blue lions spoilers #azure moon spoilers #long post

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irisandlily · 5 years ago

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Fictober 2019: Fire Emblem 3/31

Prompt 14: “I can’t come back.”

Fandom: Fire Emblem Awakening

Pairing: Background Chrobin

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings/Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20841938/chapters/49648901#workskin (i love lucina i swear)

It was nightfall, by the time Lucina had finally made her decision. Illuminated by a burning candle, Lucina sat at her desk, writing into the night with a quill and bottle of ink. By midnight, nearly two hours later, there were crumpled up papers scattered all over the desk as the princess tucked away her letter in the folds of her tunic. She blew out the candle and picked up the lantern beside it. With the parallel falchion at her side, she left the room, making her way to another’s.

Lucina quietly opened the door, peeking in, with the only light coming from the lantern. She could see the sleeping forms of her parents under the covers as she placed the letter at her father’s desk. She turned to the crib at the end of the bed, where the sleeping form of her present infant self slept.

“Yours will be a happy future,” she spoke in a whisper, leaning down and placing a kiss upon her infant self's forehead. She placed her tiara over the letter and spared one last glance at her parents before leaving the room, closing the door after her quietly.

The halls were cold, illuminated by a few scions and the pale moonlight shining through the windows.

“Lucina?” she stopped in her tracks, bracing herself as she turned around to the voice calling her name.

“Milady.” she bowed her head.

“Lucina it’s the middle of the night.” if Robin noticed the change of address, she didn’t say anything. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I was just going for a walk outside... To clear my head.”

Robin raised a brow, “Then why are you dressed as Marth?”

“I-...” she hadn’t been prepared to talk with Robin before she left. She hadn’t meant to talk to her or Chrom before she left at all.

“You’re leaving us, aren’t you?” the sorrow in the tactician’s voice pulled at Lucina’s steeled heart.

“I’ll not have myself become a burden. On Chrom or you.”

“Lucina we’ve talked about this before, you could never be a burden on us. You’re our daughter for god's sake!”

“Even so, this is something I’ve chosen to do, long before the Fell Dragon had been defeated.” the queen reached toward her, removing the butterfly mask from her eyes. Lucina looked away from her, and Robin pulled her into a hug.

“My wonderful daughter... My beautiful, noble, daughter... Lucina- is there anything I can say- anything I can do to convince you to stay?” a quiet, pleading whisper.

Lucina choked back a sob, nearly hugging Robin back before willing herself to keep her arms at her side. She felt like a child again, being comforted by her mother over a nightmare. She breathed in through tears, willing herself not to cry. Trying to commit her mother to memory.

“I’m sorry… but I’ve chosen my path.” she gently pulled away from Robin's warm embrace. She knew if she lingered any longer her resolve would falter, shattering the mask she had carefully crafted and built up for wherever fate would lead her, away from her family. “Please- don’t try to search for me. I can't come back.” she took the mask from Robin’s hands and turned away, leaving her mother to stare after her, calling out her name.

#fictober19 #fe lucina #fe robin #chrobin #fe awakening #fire emblem awakening #lily's writing

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philliamwrites · 4 years ago

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The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.6]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Words: 5.1k

Notes: Chapter 5 | Chapter 7

Chapter 06: From The Beyond

Ah! It is well for the unfortunate to be resigned, but for the guilty there is no peace.

[Mary B. Shelley, Frankenstein]

Thinking back on it later, the events during Garland Moon were probably what set the hare running toward its demise. Not that any of you could have known that. Not the students who joyfully spend their days in cherished halls where daylight passes through coloured glass; not Byleth with her gift to correct past mistakes with a flick of her wrist and change the course of time; not you with your foresight to see what dangers await in the future and prepare a different path for those you care for to walk safely.

Thinking back on it later, everything that followed surely ascribed to and served Fate, and not even Sylvain could charm her with his silver tongue and golden wit, for Fate’s lover is Time and she does not look kindly upon those who enslave him.

Maybe that is why things turned out the way they did for Byleth and you.

But that future is still far away and every single one of you still believes the goddess has Fate tightly leashed to her side, her benevolence endless and spreading to every corner in Fódlan.

That is why you don’t think too much about it when one day, Seteth disturbs your seminar, a deep frown settled in his features as you explain how to turn an ambush to your advantage to the students.

“Apologies for the disturbance, Herald. Lady Rhea asks to see Ashe.”

The boy gives a pitiful squeal but is up on his feet nonetheless. “Me? Why?”

“You will see. Please come.” Seteth holds the classroom’s door open.

You nod, a little worried about the frightened glance Ashe sends your way like he hopes you can actually say no and decline Rhea’s command. An encouraging smile is everything you can give him on his way before the door shuts behind him. Its sound wakes everyone else from their slumber and it takes a few minutes to reclaim order and their attention. It certainly does help that the Blue Lion House isn’t as chaotic as a certain other, not to name any names.

Said house proves again to be more difficult to teach. Or tame. You didn’t have the courage to ask why they thought it was a good idea to see whose shoe would leave the darkest stain on Claude’s bedroom’s ceiling. Even days after their mischief students kept talking about how they have never seen Seteth this furious.

“Herald, please,” Hilda cries, tragically draped over the back of her chair, a maiden in bittersweet agony over her loss of free time. “It was all Claude’s fault.”

“Liars never prosper,” Claude calls from the far back of the room. He’s hunched over his papers, working vigorously on Seteth’s punishment. He ordered them to write hundred times I shall not throw footwear against any ceiling in the monastery. They’ve been at it for about twenty minutes and Claude’s quill hasn’t stopped its furious scratching against parchment at all.

“I won’t mess with Seteth,” you tell them and lean dangerously far back on your chair to place your feet on the teacher’s desk. “And you deserve it. Or do they not teach you proper manners in your noble homes?”

“Well, it’s not like anyone taught us not to do it,” Hilda chirps. You throw a glare her way and she quickly dugs her head and continues writing. Quills scratch on paper for about seven seconds before Hilda stops again.

“Herald,” she says. “What do you think about Lady Catherine’s Thunderbrand?”

You look up from your book titled Noticeable War Generals. Smile gone from her face, Hilda looks up at you with sharp curiosity. It’s eerily silent now, and a quick glance towards Claude shows he is listening as well.

Catherine’s Thunderbrand. Its sight is still burned into the back of your closed eyes: Golden ivory forged into a grotesque sword, a blood red Crest Stone in its middle that seemed to pulsate—as if it breathed. As if it was a living thing with a heart. You had simply stared at it in awe and thought What a mesmerising weapon.

“It’s … fascinating,” you manage. “A Hero’s Relic. There are more than just Thunderbrand, right?”

“Ten exist,” Claude calls from the back. “Bestowed by the goddess upon ten heroes, they are passed down to their descendants. House Riegan and House Goneril have one in their possession as well.”

“Then why don’t you use it?” You certainly wouldn’t miss a chance to own and wield a mighty weapon like that.

“Wield that?”Hilda shudders in disgust. “No thank you. It looks so weird, pulsating and moving like an insect.”

“And we’re way too inexperienced to use it in a real battle.” Claude puts his quill between his nose and upper lip and tries to hold it there. “They’re locked away anyway and hidden from those who might misuse their power.”

Claude has a point. Nonetheless, you’d gladly take a look at them. Maybe even hold one … Did the Herald own one as well? A special weapon only forged for the Herald. A slight shudder runs down your spine at the thought of using it in battle.

Ten minutes later, Claude jumps to his feet. He hurries towards you, slams his parchments on the table and leaves just as fast. “Bye Herald!”

“No way!” Hilda pales. “How is he so fast?”

You wonder as well and take a look at his papers. Instead of writing what Seteth has told them, Claude simply left poor drawings of their crime and promised with one sentence he wouldn’t do it again.

And we of House Riegan never break our promises, reads the last line.

You groan. Now it’s your turn to think about a good explanation to Seteth’s questions why you haven’t paid more attention.

Month three passed within the blink of an eye. Garland Moon brought the sweet smell of white roses to Garreg Mach, a tradition much anticipated by the students. Everywhere you went, garlands and gifts made of white roses were given to each other as a sign of friendship or budding love. Some found their way to your desk, though your admirers preferred to stay anonymous whereas Byleth was busy to stow them somewhere—not a day passed without her receiving something or a group of giggling students following her around.

“I really don’t know what to do with all those flowers,” she told you one day during a tea session, a deep frown on her face. “They wilt. Then I throw them away. It’s a waste.”

“Your students love it,” you replied but were glad not to be in her place.

Another good deed Garland Moon brought with it is longer days and shorter nights. Students lounged outside in their summer uniforms after class, enjoying those last warm days before raining season arrived with fierce gusts and heavy pouring, forcing them back inside where they spent their free time inside the library or the dining hall, playing little games to kill time.

For a change of pace, Byleth and Jeralt decided they’d hold a grilled fish dinner on every last day of each week and most of the invited either didn’t have the heart or the courage to tell them once every week was once every week too much.

Everything happened too fast after that. Rhea informed the teacher’s faculty and her Knights of Lord Lonato Gaspard’s planned rebellion against the church. With that, the mystery of why Seteth had demanded to speak with Ashe was solved; it also explained why he spent so much time inside the chapel, praying and wondering himself about his adoptive father’s reasoning.

“There is no question about it,” Rhea says in her cool, demanding voice once every teacher and Knight of Seiros gathered inside the War Room to discuss the matter. “We will send a troop to meet them halfway in Kingdom Territory. They will pay for mocking our goddess.”

“Allow me to lead the Knights, Lady Rhea,” Catherine says. Even now, you can’t take your eyes off Thunderbrand strapped on her back. “I know Gaspard and what he’s capable of.”

“We did not forget what you’ve done back when—” Seteth starts. Catherine silences him with one look, leaving no doubt she doesn’t wish to speak of it.

“And that is exactly why I have to go.”

Rhea nodded. “So be it. I know I leave this mission in your capable hands.”

“But why is he leading this rebellion?” you wonder. “I thought the Kingdom is strongly devoted to Seiros’ teachings.”

“Every flock has its black sheep,” Rhea says, sounding sad. “We will get our answers once we defeat and capture them.”

“What about the surrounding villages and those who support Gaspard’s rebellion but don’t fight?” Byleth asked. Until now, you haven’t really thought of those not directly involved in it, but she does make a good point.

Rhea squared her shoulders. “What about them?”

“They’re not directly involved but might try to get in our way.” Byleth glanced at the strategic map laid out before her. There is a way through the forest for your units to approach Lonato’s stronghold. Surrounding villages are marked with a red pin. They surround the forest in a loose circle, making an intrusion possible, though sending Knights of Seiros out to watch them and stop them could be quite easy—

“Everyone who supports this foolish rebellion should receive the rightful punishment,” Rhea says, her voice so cold it freezes your thoughts of how to make the villagers stay out of this. Your head snaps up as you stare at her. Byleth raises an eyebrow but remains silent just like everyone else. Something about that makes you shudder.

“But they’re civilians, right? If we can avoid having them interfere—”

“By joining Lonato Gaspard’s rebellion they pledge guilty to his cause.” Rhea looks up at you, scorn flashing briefly in her eyes. “I will not have them simply go if it opens the possibility for revenge one day.”

If you squinted really hard, there was reason behind her words. Still, your stomach turned at the thought of endangering civilians even though it could be prevented. Without any protests, that was the plan for the operation.

You sat this one out. There was much to prepare for the upcoming Rite of Rebirth, a ceremony when the Church of Seiros and its believers unite to pray for the return of the goddess. Even though you wouldn’t call yourself a believer—many find it strange that you remember the way of war but not the way of the Church as if you lived somewhere without Seiros’ teachings—your presence was of outmost importance as well. Though after you heard how the mission went, you really wished you had joined the Blue Lions fighting against Gaspard instead of sitting around and deciding which ceremonial robes fit better.

Loud voices drift through the closed door of a classroom, voices you immediately recognise belonging to Dimitri and Byleth.

“Are you insane?” You flinch back even though a heavy wooden door separates you from what is undoubtedly Dimitri’s wrath. “Those were civilians.”

A reply is lost, too quiet for you to hear, but whatever Byleth said, it wasn’t the right thing. A second later, Dimitri storms through the doors. The distress in his features stops you from asking what is wrong, a flash of betrayal lurking in his eyes seals your mouth shut. You look after him until he disappears around the corner, only slowly turning towards Byleth. She is propping herself up on the table, learning on her strong arms and staring at the opposite wall, her mouth a grim line—solid rock that stands against the raging waves summoned by Dimitri, her grip on the edge of the table hard enough to turn her knuckles white.

“Everything okay?” An unnecessary question answered by a simple shake of her head. You lean your hips against the table. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Byleth is silent. Only slowly, like a tight knot finally coming lose, the tension in her shoulders dissipates and she takes a long, deep breath.

“Dimitri told me about their mission. How they dealt with Lord Lonato’s revolt.” She finally steps away from the table and kneads the muscles in her shoulders. You imagine they’re hard like a rock. “They faced simple peasants who defended their Lord. Peasants who didn’t even know how to wield a sword without cutting their own thumbs off.”

“And Rhea made quite clear how to deal with them,” you finish, summoning unwanted imaginations about a gruesome butchery in your mind. Byleth nods.

“Dimitri asked for my advice,” she continues, her gaze drifting towards the door as if said young man might return like a bad haunting if his name is simply muttered. “If there was anything they could have done different. I told him there wasn’t.” She tears her eyes away from the door and fixes them on you. “I told him that is the way of war.”

She is right, a part of you insists. Such facts cannot be changed and claiming anything different is foolish, naive. Yet, something stirs, a tiny tiny voice, a feeling, that challenges that thought. A feeling you didn’t expect to be part of you.

“I don’t know about the details,” you say, shuffling from left to right, “but maybe it was avoidable. Lord Lonato must have known how his subjects felt about it. He didn’t need to involve them.”

“I think they joined on their own. The students gave them a chance to lay down their weapons.”

“Still—”

“Still they decided to follow their foolish Lord,” a voice from the door joins, cold and imperious, chilling you to the bone. Rhea enters the War Room, her expression void of any warmth or kindness. “There is no place for doubt. We must punish any sinner who may inflict harm upon believers, even if those sinners are civilians.”

“And you think to have the students punish them is right?” Byleth asks, earning a sharp glare from Rhea. She quickly, but somewhat begrudgingly adds, “Your Grace.”

“I have heard that some students struggled with completing the task,” Rhea acknowledges, doing her best to show how unaffected she is by Byleth’s criticism. “I pray they learnt a valuable lesson about the fate that awaits all who are foolish enough to point their blades towards the heavens.”

An icy shudder crawls up your spine, cold fingers tighten around your throat to keep you silent—a leash forged of obedience and intimidation, the mistress standing before you. It would be wise to keep your mouth shut, not draw unnecessary attention; keep your head low and nothing can slice it from your shoulders. But the words, burning hot on your tongue, demand freedom.

“Fearing the Church isn’t the same as respecting it.”

Something sharp flashes in Rhea’s eyes. “If fear is the only way to control them, then so be it. They are traitors to the holy teachings.”

“They are people. People with families.”

“People who would be wise to remember it was the progenitor god who gave them these lands and their life,” Rhea answers, growing impatient. She notices something in the way you look at her, for she takes a moment to collect herself by taking a deep breath. “I do not enjoy seeing those who wronged our holy teachings punished, Herald,” she continues, now much calmer. “But punish them we must before they hurt those who are dear to us.” Upon her last words, her eyes dart to Byleth, looking at her with so much fondness and care, a sting of jealousy in your chest forces you to avert your gaze to the ground. It isn’t the first time you notice Rhea’s palpable interest in Byleth’s wellbeing though no answer comes to mind why it is like that. If Byleth noticed the same, she doesn’t show it.

After that, the incident is quickly forgotten, making room for the new incident occupying everyone’s mind: an assassination plot on Rhea on the day of the Rite of Rebirth found in Lonato’s possession. You aren’t the only one wondering why he’d carry something like that around where it’s easy to find. Multiple theories go around, one more farfetched than the other. One particular makes sense, its source none other than sharp witted Claude who thinks this plot is a simple distraction for something much bigger.

“If security is focused on the Rite of Rebirth inside the Goddess’ Tower, pretty much anyone can simply stroll around the monastery and do who knows what,” he told you on the day Byleth and her class set out to discover what important places might become a target. Garreg Mach hides many secrets and treasures. Some of them even you are not allowed to see like relics passed down from archbishop to archbishop, guarded by the elite of the Knights of Seiros, tall and bulky men and women with grim mouths and determined eyes rooting them in place day and night in front of locked doors only Rhea knows what they hide.

With every passing day, tension hangs in the air like a thick blanket waiting to smother you all. But it isn’t simply the anticipation for whatever the Western Church has planned. It is also the holy ceremony of the Rite of Rebirth, one you’ve practised under the stern eyes of Seteth who doesn’t settle for anything less than perfect. Every word, every step is engraved in your mind.

On the day of the Rite of Rebirth the sun relentlessly blazes down at the monastery. Your ceremonial robes are heavy and woven from thick jacquard fabric lined with fine golden patterns that depict the Herald’s Crest on the back. You’ve barely finished preparing everything inside the round chamber inside the Goddess’ Tower but perspiration glues your hair to your forehead.

A whole feast is prepared; food offerings and gifts from the townsfolk and priests served on golden and silver plates on long tables covered with white table clothes. In the middle Seteth prepared a small platform for Rhea to stand and speak in honour of the goddess that she may return to Fódlan and show its people her infinite grace. In short, you’d do anything to join the students who are securing the locations lacking in defence right now instead of standing around and waving at pilgrims. The only joy lies in Flayn’s bright presence and her never ending optimism. She’s a sweet girl and has been looking forward to the ceremony since the beginning of Blue Sea Moon. Looking upon her, it is hard not to catch her excitement and joy when the ceremony finally begins.

Because of certain circumstances you couldn’t quite follow, the holy relic used for the ceremony, the Chalice of Beginnings, has been missing for a long time. Because of that, a mock chalice was prepared by the cardinals, a handful of high authority men and women who make it no secret they can’t quite decide if they like or dislike you and your position.

“You must excuse them,” one of the cardinals says after a group of them simply shook their heads at you happily scooping tons of food on a plate. His dark hair falls to his shoulders and unlike the other cardinals, his brown eyes are filled with kindness. “They simply think in old patterns and value their old traditions. You are quite young, Herald. They don’t know how to handle that.”

“But you do?” you wonder and notice too late how unfriendly that sounds. But he simply laughs.

“I do frequent with young folk, yes,” he says. “They are my flock and I will do anything to protect them.”

“That again, Aelfric?” Catherine joins you and slaps his shoulder just when he was about to drink from his cup. You pretend the pastries on your plate are far more interesting than watching him choke on wine. “You’re way too good for them, you know?”

“Who is ‘them?’” you ask but Catherine just sways her hand as if he wants to get rid of a nasty fly.

“Unimportant. You did a good job carrying the chalice to the podium.”

“I did almost trip over these.” You pluck at the heavy robes, already looking forward to getting out of them.

Catherine laughs but it is short lived. Out of nowhere, a knight hurriedly approaches and leans over to her, muttering, “They are after the tomb of Saint Seiros.”

Glass shatters as her grip tightens around the fragile stem but without so much as noticing it she storms towards Rhea, fury blazing in her eyes. Something happened. Something far more exciting than playing a believer in front of everyone, so you follow her to listen in more.

“Those dastards from the Western Church infiltrated the Holy Mausoleum,” she says. Rhea pales. “I will take some knights and go there at once.”

“Go and be swift, Catherine.” Rhea’s words are barely a puff of breath, those news shaking her but she remains stoic in front of everyone to prevent panic. Her voice drops dangerously low. “Punish those heathens.”

Catherine’s head dips in a slight bow. “I will, Your Grace.”

“I want to help too.”

Both turn around at your voice. Catherine narrows her eyes to sharp slits, but it is Rhea who says, “No. I need you here for the ceremony, Herald.”

“Please, let me,” you beg. Something inside you demands to follow, demands to see what is inside the Holy Mausoleum that causes so much bloodshed. “I can’t explain, but I need to be there.”

Rhea presses her lips into a thin line. Before she reopens her mouth to decline your wish, you whirl around and leave the ceremony room, Catherine in hot pursuit. You manage halfway down the hallway before she reaches you and grabs your arm hard.

“Even though you are the Herald, I won’t allow you to show this disrespect towards Her Grace,” she snarls. “If she tells you to stay, you listen.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” you say, trying to free your arm from her bone breaking grip. “But something calls me to this place and I need to follow it.”

Catherine isn’t pleased but she knows better than do you any real harm. With a crude nod, she allows you to follow. Several knights wait for you and together you make your way through the warm evening air towards the Holy Mausoleum that lies behind the chapel.

You enter right before chaos erupts. At the end of the hall, its ceiling so high up it’s barely visible in the dark, Byleth stands tall and rises a sword that flashes in a bright red light. A throb goes through your body and brings you to your knees. It feels like an arrow drove into your chest, the stinging pain unlike anything you’ve felt before—no, it’s a pain you haven’t felt since the Crest appeared on your eye for the first time. And then that thrumming energy within you exploded, a sharp crimson that drenched every corner of your right vision, rushing through your veins.

“Kill them!” an enemy mage commands, fury fuelling him to a last desperate attack. With his remaining companions, they summon a giant fire spell you’ve only read about in books, a combination of spells into a group flame that covers a large area—the pre-stage to a much more fatal blaze that can scorch the land. Blaze or no, the effect watching the giant fire ball curling and sparking until it grows large enough to wipe out anything in its way is the same. Fear paralyses your body. Move, your mind screams, but you can’t. Your muscles have locked up; a high whine of terror fills your head and fizzes in your blood like poison, yet you do not understand where this fear of fire comes from.

“Take cover!” Catherine roars but it is too late. The blast hits the ground right before you, dispersing your small group of reinforcements like wind scattering leaves in all directions. A loud crack beneath you makes your heart skip a beat, a rumble shakes the hall and before you can fully comprehend what is happening, the ground gives way.

The last thing you hear is Byleth shouting, not Herald, but your name before you plunge into darkness.

Wake up.

You have to wake up.

This darkness is terrifying, so utterly black and choking, curling around you like a tight fist. Like someone is holding you in their dirty, tainted clutches, smelling of death and horror. Wake up, you tell yourself, more urgent now, your mind struggling to escape from claws digging into your consciousness, their goal unknown but you don’t want to stay here to find out what they are after. What they want to take from you.

Wake up, this time another voice, the voice, echoing like a sweet bell’s chime, the flicker of light in a darkness so black it hums. You have to wake up.

Your eyes snap open, the sudden white ceiling hurting like a sudden flash of light. Once you’re used to the brightness, you realise this isn’t a room, this is … this is your consciousness—no walls, no windows. It’s just a space, and yet you can clearly determine borders. Somewhere is an exit you’re free to use, nothing holds you captive. It’s your safe place. Your haven. Which doesn’t explain how you’ve gotten here.

All you know is it feels safe. It feels like a warm embrace, the feeling of hope, watching a budding flower embraced by soft, fragile hands—asteritrope, your mind provides out of nowhere, the flower always turning its head towards the Blue Star.

It is like breaking a spell. First, everything is simply white, empty, a second later, you stand in a vast field of asteritropes, an ocean of purple, gently swaying flowers at your feet. Everything smells of sweet innocence, of honey dipped fingers and bittersweet regret. It is a familiar scent, one your body remembers and reacts to with a shudder so strong it rattles deep in your bones; a chill so cold it freezes you on the spot, the slightest movement threatening to shatter you entirely.

What is this grief, this sadness? Is it your own or have you fallen into a sea of tears wept by someone else? Your chest is heavy with a burden, a pulling towards the unknown that is yet so familiar. It is homesickness towards a place you have never been but long to visit.

The flowers shaped like little stars stretch beyond what you think are the edges of this place. If this is a dream, you don’t want to wake up anytime soon, relishing in this peace and quiet.

A peace and quiet that lasts only a moment until you notice it. Not it, him. In the middle of the field, a boy sits, bent over something that demands his complete attention. Dark curls fall against pale skin, his brows pulled tightly together as his fingers work something in his lap. He is wearing a simple white robe, though it is unlike any of the religious wear you've seen on the priests and nuns; it seem ... too old for that. Only after you approach, you see he is folding purple flowers and green steams into a crown.

“Hello?” you say, only now entertaining the idea you might have died and this is the afterlife, the first point before returning to the goddess’ side. It is a strangely tranquil thought. “Can you hear me?”

The boy’s head snaps up, his eyes wide as he momentarily forgets his work, and you take a step back, struck by how bright his steel grey eyes are. They roam over you, up and down, back up again, as he slowly raises to his feet.

“You’re here,” he says, awestruck. “You’re finally here. It is so nice to meet you after all this time.”

His voice is like a punch to your gut. You recognise it immediately, the voice who pulled you back from the darkness.

“You—” Nothing makes sense. “Who are you? What are you?”

“There is nothing to fear,” he says, offering you his hand. The tips of his fingers are purple from handling delicate petals. The crown lies at his bare feet, forgotten. He looks strangely vulnerable.

You take another step back, worry a steady, hard pulse against your neck. The air catches in your lungs. You feel like the ground is opening beneath your feet. “Are you … the goddess? A god?”

The boy blinks, then throws his head back and bursts out laughing, the sound like sweet bells chiming in the wind. “You people love to call everything you do not understand god.”

“Then what are you?” It comes out as a breath, and for a brief second you think it’s fear that seizes your body, but no. You should be afraid and yet instead of frenzy panic there is a calm spreading inside you as if you belong here. You can’t say if it’s the boy’s presence or the familiar scent of wildflowers.

The boy leans his head to the side, his smile as vibrant as early sunlight casting away leftover shadows from a dark night. “Hmmm … the End, perhaps? Or why not just … a friend?”

“The end? My end?”

“No, the end is never simply the end,” he says, shaking his head.

“Is that supposed to reassure me?”

“It may be a rebirth,” he continues. “Or the passing into a new era. Into a new dawn.”

“A new dawn,” you mumble. The realisation makes your knees weak. “Don’t tell me—” You suck in a sharp breath, unable to belief where your thoughts are hurling towards in lightning speed. You kneel onto the soft flowerbed, careful not to crush any flowers. “Why are we here … do you know me by chance?”

“I … cannot say for sure,” he starts slowly, uncertainty turning his features even younger. “I have been watching you since you awoke four moons ago. On that day, I as well awoke from a deep slumber. But I do not know why it is you that I am bound to.”

“Bound to?” Your head spins. “What do you mean?”

“You must have felt it by now, have you not? I am here because of this,” he says, and lifts his hand to point at your right eye. You flinch back as if he smacked you right across your face.

“So you are him,” you whisper, a shudder ripping through your body. “You’re the first Herald. You are Seiros’ Champion.”

The boy smiles.

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