#Rhea x Byleth

[thirteendaysintaunton]

“And remember, the truth that once was spoken: To love another person is to see the face of God.”

[sergeanthopeless]

The Goddess and the Saint

Chapter 3: The one where Seteth and Flayn arrive at Garreg Mach

Summary: Seteth brings a newly-awakened Flayn to seek asylum at Garreg Mach, where they meet the Goddess Reborn.

Excerpt:

Now that his daughter seemed to be free at last of her restorative hibernation, Seteth needed to take her somewhere safe, somewhere she could never be harmed again. Of course, there were many such places he had found and taken advantage of through the years, yet none of them fit the one condition Cethleann exacted of him: she would not endure further isolation. She wanted to be among people.

Apparently, her father did not qualify as “people.”

Thus, Garreg Mach was his only choice. Although Seiros was here, this was also the heart of the Church of Seiros, the most prominent religion on the continent, a bastion of faith and military strength no one dared to attack. In other words, a safe place.

Read it on AO3

[frickingnerd]

dating rhea & byleth

pairing: rhea x gn!reader x byleth eisner

tags: wholesome fluff, polyamorous relationship (no rhea x byleth)

being in a relationship with the archbishop and ashen demon is quite the unique situation

when you started working at the officers academy and met byleth, things still seemed rather normal

even when you started to befriend rhea and spend more time with her, it still wasn't too odd – after all, she had a good relationship with all the teachers! 

though when rhea confessed her love to you, that's when things started to change

you were surprised that out of all people, she had fallen in love with you, yet you were also happy

your relationship stayed a secret for a while, until one day rhea brought byleth along to one of your dates

you two had only been colleagues until then, but that day rhea confessed to you on byleth's behalf that they were in love with you as well and proposed that you could date both of them

you thought it was a trap at first, but rhea seemed genuine about her proposal

you agreed, already being on good terms with byleth

at first, you thought rhea was the one who had feelings for byleth and wanted them to be part of the relationship

but over time, you grew closer and closer to byleth, catching feelings yourself, while you realized that rhea had never tried to make a move on byleth herself

even after months of dating, rhea and byleth's relationship was a mystery to you

but you were glad that rhea had proposed a polyamorous relationship that day, because it had lead to you getting to know byleth even better and falling in love with them as well…

[squeaky-potat]

If you're still doing requests, could you do f!Byleth and Rhea pre-time skip just happily at peace? Rhea's headpiece is inSANE so please don't feel pressured into including it <3

I took Rhea’s headpiece as a challenge and honestly I’m pretty happy with this version. 🤓

Thank you so much for your request anon! I really enjoyed bringing this to life. They are taking a lovely stroll through the gardens.🪻

I’m currently taking drawing requests! And now requests are turning into stickers! See my pinned post for details!

[reneethegreatandpowerful]

Mikleth/The Mummy (1999)

This is pretty random, but I like it.

[nabateaprodigy]

May I request Rhea/femaleByleth looking at the night sky together? 💙

Starlight Sky

Game Series: Fire Emblem.

Characters: Female Byleth, Claude, Sothis and Rhea.

Genre: Fluff.

Proofread: Yes.

Notes: Slight spoilers. I decided to base this fic off the ball cutscene from FE3H and the event with Rhea that happens after it. Sothis and Claude are in this as they are a part of the cutscene and event. However, this still is mainly a Female Byleth x Rhea fic.

It was a lively night in Garreg Mach Monastery. It was the night of the ball and students were having drinks and dancing hand in hand to the music. Even Byleth was in the ballroom watching her students dance and chat with each other. She was content with just watching from the sidelines as her students enjoyed themselves and had fun not having to worry over exams and assignments.

However, before she knew it one of her fellow students approached and took her hand. "Hey teach let's dance!" It was Claude and he took her hand and they walked and danced together to the rhythm of the music. After some time Byleth slipped off to somewhere more quiet within the Monastery.

Feeling rather tired from the dancing and chatting with the students. She wanted some alone time to relax for a while.

"Feeling tired are you? I dare say you were the most popular in the ballroom. You had so many students swarming around to dance and chat with you. Come on won't you dance more?"

It was Sothis Someone who Byleth had gotten to know quite well over the past few months. Byleth trusted Sothis and even if she wouldn't say she was glad to have Sothis around to keep her company. "No, I think I'll rest for now and return to the ballroom later," Byleth replied.

"Oh, you're no fun why If I had a body of my own. I'd dance the night away until my legs gave out. But fine done as you will rest for now you certainly deserve it." Just as the two were speaking Lady Rhea had walked into the room. "..." As soon as she had entered she left just as quickly.

"Since you will dance no more. Why don't you follow her and see what she's doing." Soiths spoke. "Why would I? I have no reason to follow her." Byleth replied. "Ugh come on! I'm bored beyond belief! Come on I know you are interested in what she is up to!" Byleth couldn't deny that she was interested in seeing what Lady Rhea was up to.

Suddenly both heard distant singing. "Someone is singing. You hear it too yes? It's coming from that direction could it be..." Sothis had spoken and now Byleth almost felt drawn to the distant singing as she made her way to where the singing was coming from.

"In time's flow...see the glow of flames ever burning bright... On the swift river's drift, broken memories alight..." It was Lady Rhea and it seems as though she is singing a lullaby. "That song it seems... familiar to be but how can that be so? I feel as though I sang this song to someone in the distant past. But there's more i...wrote this song but how can that be so? If what I say is true how could she be singing it? Unless...oh my I feel rather sleepy all of a sudden. I feel as though I could just doze right off to sleep..."

Snores were heard indicating that Sothis had fallen asleep.

After Sothis had fallen asleep Byleth decided to go out onto the balcony where Lady Rhea was singing. "You have an enchanting singing voice, Lady Rhea," Byleth spoke as stepped onto the balcony Lady Rhea turned to face her. "Oh professor how nice it is to see you.

My thanks that song has special meaning to me and I often find myself singing the melody." Lady Rhea replied to Byleth as looked up to the starlight sky.

Byleth then stood next to her looking up at the beautiful night sky with her. "Someone very important to me once sang this song to me. However, she is no longer her as she is in the heavenly kingdom above." As she continued to look up at the star light sky Byleth spoke.

"I'm sure she is at peace now and I'm sure she is happy to hear you sing the song she once sang to you." Rhea smiles. "Yes professor I'm sure she is and she must be looking down upon us with a smile on her face." Byleth then turned to look at Lady Rhea and put out her hand.

"May I have this dance, Lady Rhea?" Lady Rhea laughed. "Of course, you may have this dance professor." Lady Rhea spoke as she took Byleth's hand in hers. As the two danced the night away under the beautiful starlight sky.

[grandsonoflightike]

SS3 - Rise Of True Unified Fodlan Chapter 01: Arval asks Shez To Tell His Love of His Existence and the meeting between them

Couples: Shez X Monica, Byleth X Edelgard, Dimitri X Ingrid, Claude X Hilda, Scileth X Jeritza, Bileth X Sothis, Timmy X Annette, Ferdinand X Dorothea, Dedue X Mercedes, Marianne X Linhardt, Lysithea X Felix, Bernadetta X Caspar, Leonie X Lorenz, Petra X Ashe, Balthus X Hapi, Yuri X Constance, Catherine X Sharmir, And Ignatz X Flayn

The Path of Scarlet Blaze is about to change as, In the past encounters, there are 4 Byleths and Monica Saved Ingrid And Rodrigue secretly because she felt it was necessary.  Now Arval suggests to Shez to tell The One he loves that he wants to meet them.  This is right before The Battle for Ailell aka The Valley Of Torment.

(Background Song Is Let It Burn By Red.)

Arval says “You really love someone, don't you? So much you gave the merc whistle right after you mentioned it to Edelgard. That merc whistle signified your true feelings.  Tell her about me and schedule a meeting between me and them.”

An unknown voice says “That's right, my creation. Let me brag to the person who could have prevented it all.”

Shez goes and talk to his love who is Monica and she believes and will keep it a secret.  Then she says she will meet him tonight.  That night, Monica heads to the meeting spot and the being behind the mysterious voice appears.

“Are you Arval?” Monica says.

The Mysterious Being says “No, Arval is my creation that I used Shadow Shez's Family to pass Down my consciousness.  I am Epimenides.  I will kill the vessel of Sothis AKA Bileth.  As long as Shez Exists, He will be connected to her as I will always exist. Only if you had returned his love before Ingrid had died, then there would be a True Unified Fodlan.”

Monica realized that Epimenides didn’t know she saved both Ingrid and Rodrigue secretly.

Epimenides says “After The Next Battle, I will use Shez's Connection to Arval To Attack Bileth.  To think the very reason she is called The Ashen Demon is Because Rhea has been experimenting on humans With a special crest she created called The Crest Of Flames. The Mother of Byleth and Bileth as Well as Jeralt's Wife was the previous experiment and her daughter got her non-Working from her without the Crest Of Flames Sigil connected to but the mother begged Rhea transfer the sigil to the daughter, which killed her. This makes Jeralt quit the knights, take his kids, and create Jeralt's Mercenaries.  It is only because Shez's Former Group battled Jeralt's Mercenaries that I am even here with Shez and You were saved.  That is why only your love before Ingrid's Death can cleanse Shez of being corrupted again even if I am defeated in Zahras and the way to destroy Fodlan's True Master AKA Nemesis who was killed twice to be honest.  The Agathans were a technological advanced society until the dragons led by Sothis wiped them out and Their leader was the original Nemesis.  The Nemesis from legend stole the bones of the dragons who died in that war including Sothis for The Agathans and they made the heroes.  Rhea is Seiros, Seteth Is Cichol, and Flayn is Cethleann.  Cichol and Cethleann know nothing of the experiments Seiros is doing.  See ya when I resurface after my defeat in Zahr- Huh?” Epimenides is Surprised.

The Reason behind Epimenides's Surprise is Monica is smirking.

Epimenides asks “Why are you smirking, Love Of My Consciousness Holder?”

Monica says “It is just you think You succeeded In Surviving When Ingrid And Rodrigue Are Alive.  I secretly Saved Them thinking I Surprise my fellow Black Eagles and I had A feeling I should.  Now I know why I had that feeling.  You are the reason.  I plan on revealing everything you told me to the people at the Battle Of The Valley Of Torment.”

Epimenides shouts “No, I won't let you!” He Charges up a spell but suddenly freezes.  He says “Arval what are you doing?”

Arval says “Saving one of my new masters if the Lover of my destined partner is told about me, the lover aka Monica Von Ochs.”

“So you are Arval? You consider me your master?” Monica says.

“Yes, Bring Shez to the middle of the battlefield with you and I will help you reveal it all.” Arval says.

TBC…

[plotthotrobin]

Claudeleth Fanfic idea: Interest Poll (Description Below)

Rating: Probably T (M at most)

Relationship: NB/M Byleth x Claude (romance only develops post-timeskip)

Content Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death (Most of the characters who die in Verdant Wind would probably die here too), Mild Body Horror?

Tags (Subject to change, and I will add more later): Non-binary Byleth, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Friends to Lovers, Includes Some Three Hopes Lore, Focus is on Interpersonal Relationships More Than Politics, Rhea is somewhat villainized

Despite Sothis’ warnings against doing so, Byleth has been through each path more times than they can count in an attempt to try to achieve a better ending where all three lords live and work together for the sake of Fódlan. They’ve tried everything they can think of, but at most they’ve gotten two lords at a time to survive and somewhat cooperate. (Either Claude and Dimitri or Claude and Edelgard, never Dimitri and Edelgard) They’re infuriatingly close every time. If they can just find the right time to drop the right information to the right people, they can achieve the bright future they long so much for…

Except their body can no longer withstand turning back time. Each attempt has taken its toll mentally and physically, and Byleth is at their limit. They have one last divine pulse and must pick a side. Ultimately Byleth chooses Claude, and it haunts them. They could have chosen Dimitri or Edelgard and Claude would have still lived, but they didn’t. They don’t fully understand their own decision, to be frank, it was just instinct to return to his side.

Meanwhile, Claude is more determined than ever to peel back the layers of secrets of his new professor. Nothing ever seems to actually surprise them, and it sometimes seems like they’re simply nodding and going through the motions… yet they are fiercely protective of him and the other Deer and are always there when needed. It makes no damn sense… Compels him though. It isn’t until five years later that he actually starts getting the answers he is searching for - and he isn’t prepared for what he finds.

[yall-hate-kids-tourney]

Chris Thorndyke (Sonic X) vs. Cyril (Fire Emblem)

Y'all Hate Kids: Screwed By The Writers

Propaganda below the cut

(edit: added the cut)

-

Chris Thorndyke (Sonic X)

Chris Thorndyke is THE hated kid in the Sonic fandom and for what??? The whimsy of being sonic's friend?????? Being neglected by his parents but not acting like the sad little neglected child in a gacha movie????? Because the dub writers made him a little more annoying???? For years if you searched the chris thorndyke tag it was NOTHING but vitriol and anger towards this child. His one crime was thinking Sonic was cool and the fandom sentenced him to death for it.

Cyril (Fire Emblem)

cw: Slavery, racism, grooming , Human trafficking, child soldiers, warfare, war orphans

"This boy. This POOR BOY. Would've submitted him to Yall Hate Teens if I could have, because BOY does the fandom rag on him. But thankfully, he applies to this one as well.

Jusr for some background. Okay so we got this 14 year old kid. Born in a (non-white) country with a lot of emphasis on fighting (which is iffy in its own sense too), and he ends up put in a battle at a young age. During this battle, he's captured by the soldiers of a noble family from the white people continent, and made into their ""servant"" (but let's be real, they aren't paying him.) Eventually, he's rescued by the pope, who is secretly a dragon, and he becomes very indebted to her because of this. He becomes almost fanatical in his respect for her, and that's where the main source of people disliking him in the fandom comes from. They think he's annoying. Or make really gross sexual jokes about him (14) and the 100 bajillion year old (that was hyperbole) dragon pope who arguably groomed him according to certain interpretations.

Anyway, for the things the writers did to him! Well, for one, a few of his supports are pretty bad. One particularly terrible one stands out-- his Hilda support. In which he's doing his job, working hard and stuff and she starts saying all these racist comments about how she didn't know that his people were capable of that. He's (rightfully) really rude to her for their first 2 supports, but eventually they have a slightly more friendly relationship. Their A is her bringing home a letter from her brother, telling her that racism is bad. That was what it took for her to realize that, by the way.

Okay, a little iffy, but guess what? You remember the noble family that he was ENSLAVED BY? YEAH. She is a member of that family. And in their paired ending? They get married. He marries the racist white woman who basically decided that he was one of the good ones. You want to know who he DOESN'T gave a paired ending with? Someone who can share his experience of growing up with a complex relationship with his culture. Or the guy who is curious about him and his life and helps to show him the beauty in the mundane, in a really very sweet support that tragically only goes up to B, wanting to go on a trip with him to see his homeland when everything is over. Or the ither person of color who feels questionably indebted to a powerful white person. Also his Byleth S support is really weird and creepy.

Oh, and he was completely cut out of the spin-off game. He was supposed to be playable in it, but they cut him out. You kill him in Scarlet Blaze (or maybe he doesn't die. I forget. You fight him.) And I think he sometimes shows up in other routes but that's it. He was done so dirty by the writers, the fandom, everyone. It's really fucked up."

-

I was fine with Cyril but a ton of people online SEVERELY hated my boy for just existing so I grew to love him out of spite. Cyril's backstory had him as a child soldier that was captured by the enemy nation where he became a servant to a noble family. Archbishop Rhea noticed Cyril and took him to Garreg Mach Monastery where he willingly works for her out of gratitude for giving him a home when he was at his worst. Because he's a kid (who's also far more mature than some of the older cast) Cyril was one of the few characters who was critical of the protagonist from the get go and I think this brought in the hate. Like- Cyril WAS a kidnapping victim but he's also mature enough to recognize that his home nation wasn't perfect and only encouraged a bloody culture that kept making orphans. Cyril technically doesn't need to work or stay at Garreg Mach but he does so because he feels that he owes Lady Rhea and the localization of FE16 smooths over a lot of that info. Like- leave my boy aloneee he's just living his own life instead of making the protagonist the center of his universe. He's a child soldier that has yet to really find his place in the world after finally being given the reigns of his own life. Cyril my son. Cyril my boy- you are more than all the hate. Be free my child

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

i am back to state my case on seteth x jeralt! being totally honest the biggest appeal of this ship is less about the actual romantic chemistry and moreso about how interesting their interactions could be IF THEY HAD ANY !! the fact that they are both connected to the church and have a history with rhea and they don't speak to each other like AT ALL in canon is nuts to me. there's so many missed conversation opportunities of things they have in common on top of having ties to rhea. they both enjoy fishing. they are both fathers. they both are inhumanly old yet don't physically show it. they both hold a lot of secrets. they both have children they want to protect - seteth could learn a lot of parenting tips from jeralt, and vice versa, since....both of them definitely have room to improve, to say the least. DJaimon illustrated some supports between seteth and jeralt that played no small part in leading me to think they need to talk to each other SO BAD.

having no supports even in the spinoff which was created for the sole purpose of giving us more fe3h content is unbelievable. jeralt got supports with manuela (love her, but why?) but didn't get supports with seteth or alois. alois, y'know, someone who considers jeralt like a father figure, comparing himself to byleth as like an older brother? jeralt even has a whole paralogue battle with byleth and leonie. and i know it's been discussed here before that it's unrealistic to expect writers to write supports for every single character pairing, but come on. at least in fewth this would've been the closest jeralt would get to having a support chain with rhea, which would've been so interesting. but oh well. he doesn't speak a single word to seteth. seteth, who is rhea's closest confidant and yet knows so little about why jeralt left the church. seteth, who oversaw the knights of seiros while he was leading it. seteth, who grows close to his child and has his daughter join their class. that requires so much trust.

even though they dont canonically interact, they have every reason to, and its impossible for them to have not interacted in the past. jeralt was the head of the knights of seiros and very close to rhea, and since seteth both oversees the knights of seiros and is close to rhea, of course he would have interacted with him. i think there is a very interesting dynamic to be had here. especially considering jeralt eventually betrays rhea due to what she did to his child and flees, but does come back to the church, that gives seteth so much reason to question him. he already questions if byleth can be trusted, but when he finds out more about why jeralt left (reading his diary), he starts to question rhea ("what did you do to that baby, rhea? nothing...questionable, i should hope?"), sowing seeds of mistrust. i think jeralt's interference with rhea can provide so much conflict for seteth. i think seteth should suffer more and battle within himself whether he is doing the right thing siding with rhea or not. and knowing jeralt, he would probably challenge seteth more directly on that. theres so many things they can bond over. theres so many things they can challenge one another's beliefs over. theres so much to talk about and yet they never get to talk and it makes me explode inside.

and finally, why they would be a good couple ..... idk man i just like dilfs. this is the old man yaoi all the cool kids are talking about. there's fluctuating power dynamics and trust issues and fatherly bonding and all kinds of things that could be explored. plus, i really like seteth as a character and have wanted to ship him with someone, but seteth x byleth has never appealed to me. most byleth ships aren't appealing to me personally. but seteth x byleth's dad.... oh boy. there's so much to be explored here helped in no small part by zero canon interaction. these are prime shipping conditions. all of it is up to interpretation and fan creation. and brother i'm about to go buck wild. in fact, i already have. who's with me!!!!

👀

[the-reader-insert-gazette]

What Could Have Been - F!Reader x Hubert von Vestra

Request Column (Anon) - Fire Emblem Three Houses

Once, they were classmates. Once, they were almost something more. But in a world where their loyalties demand bloodshed, all they have left is the illusion of what might have been.

✒️ Word Count: 5924

Request Summary - Hubert from FE3H falling in love with Reader who is Rhea's adopted child, as Edelgard's with Byleth. But unfortunately, reader is siding against the Empire.

Hubert had always understood the nature of war.

It was not the chaos of battle or the clash of steel that intrigued him, nor was it the mindless violence that repelled the more naive students at Garreg Mach. It was the strategy, the manipulation of resources, the careful dance of control.

So when the Black Eagles first mission was announced, a bandit-hunting assignment, he did not hesitate to assess the strengths and weaknesses of his class. The mission itself was of little consequence. What interested him was how the others would perform.

How she would perform.

[Name] was, by all appearances, an enigma within the Black Eagles. The Archbishop’s adopted child, an outsider of noble status without a crest, and yet a young woman who carried herself with an unshakable sense of belonging. She had a sharp tongue, a keen mind, and a knack for finding the cracks in even the most carefully constructed plans.

It was that very trait that irked him most.

Because, to his growing frustration, she was often right.

The group set out early in the morning, the sky painted in soft hues of gold and violet as they left the safety of the monastery. Hubert rode alongside Edelgard, listening to her speak of the mission’s political implications, of how even something as mundane as eradicating bandits could serve as a tool to strengthen the Empire’s hold over the Church. He responded when necessary, but his attention occasionally drifted—drawn, against his better judgment, to the figure riding a few paces ahead.

[Name] rode with an ease that suggested familiarity. Not nobility, but something instinctive. Her posture was relaxed, her fingers loosely curled around the reins, yet her gaze remained sharp, sweeping across the landscape like she was mapping every possible threat.

She was too perceptive.

Too much like him.

It was deeply irritating.

By the time they arrived at the location, the sun had climbed high in the sky, casting long shadows over the jagged cliffs and overgrown ruins. The professor, Byleth, gave a brief but efficient strategy breakdown—minimal words, clear instructions. Hubert had to begrudgingly admit their leadership was effective.

Still, it was a simple mission. The bandits, sloppy and unorganized, had little chance against trained students, let alone the future leaders of Fódlan. Edelgard took command, dividing the Black Eagles into strategic formations, but before Hubert could suggest an optimized positioning, [Name] spoke.

“I’ll take the flank,” she said, already stepping forward. “If we drive them inward, we can funnel them into a tighter formation. It’ll make them easier to cut down.”

Hubert narrowed his eyes. “And what will you do if they anticipate that and scatter instead?”

She glanced at him, arching a brow. “Then I’ll improvise.”

The sheer audacity of it.

Hubert loathed unpredictability. Plans existed for a reason. Control was necessary. And yet, [Name] acted as if battle was simply another sparring match, another challenge to be tackled in the moment.

Edelgard considered her proposal before nodding. “It’s a sound plan. We’ll proceed with it.”

Hubert exhaled slowly through his nose, biting back his irritation.

It wasn’t a bad plan. But it wasn’t his.

Regardless, the battle unfolded as expected.

The bandits were laughably unskilled, relying on brute force rather than tactical precision. Hubert took position behind the frontlines, casting spells from a distance, ensuring that Edelgard was never exposed. He directed magic with calculated precision, eliminating threats before they could become liabilities.

[Name], however, was another matter entirely.

She moved through the battlefield with ruthless efficiency, her sword cutting through the enemy ranks with swift, decisive strikes. But what unsettled him was not her skill—he had expected her to be capable. It was the way she watched.

She was studying their opponents as she fought, adapting to their movements, exploiting their weaknesses the moment she identified them.

She was doing exactly what he did.

Hubert found himself watching her more closely than he intended, cataloging her movements, analyzing her choices, searching for a flaw—any flaw—that would prove her recklessness would cost her.

But she did not falter.

And then, in the midst of the battle, it happened.

A bandit, more cunning than the rest, slipped through an opening, raising his axe in a downward arc toward [Name]'s blind spot.

Hubert reacted before he could think.

The spell left his hands in an instant, a dark lance of magic striking the bandit in the chest before his blade could even graze her armor. The man crumpled, lifeless.

[Name] turned sharply, sword still raised, and met his gaze across the battlefield.

A heartbeat passed between them.

Her eyes flicked to the fallen bandit, then back to him.

And then—infuriatingly—she smirked.

“Appreciate it, Vestra,” she called over the sound of the battlefield.

Hubert scoffed, concealing the way his pulse had inexplicably quickened. “Try not to get yourself killed, and you won’t need my assistance.”

She only grinned wider before pivoting back into the fray.

Hubert exhaled, forcing himself to return his focus to the battle.

It was nothing.

A simple reaction, the logical course of action to preserve their numbers. That was all.

And yet, long after the battle ended, as they returned to Garreg Mach in the dying light of day, he caught himself watching her again.

Control was the foundation of Hubert's very existence—an unwavering, unshakable discipline that allowed him to serve Edelgard with ruthless precision. There was no room for hesitation, no space for sentiment, no patience for distractions.

And yet, over the past few months, something had begun to shift.

It was subtle at first. A stray glance here, an unwanted thought there. The kind of inconsequential details that should have passed through his mind unnoticed. But instead, they lingered.

Or rather—she lingered.

[Name].

It had started after that mission. Certain moments from that day refused to fade. The sharp glint in her eye as she adjusted mid-fight, the precise calculation in her every movement, the smirk she had thrown him after he saved her.

A smirk that, to his mounting irritation, surfaced in his mind far too often.

And so, he noticed things.

The way she scanned a battlefield before stepping onto it, as if seeing paths no one else did. The way she absentmindedly twisted the rings on her fingers when deep in thought. The way she always arrived early to strategy meetings, flipping through notes with a quiet confidence that made it seem as if she had already considered every possible outcome.

At first, he told himself it was nothing.

Merely an observation of a useful ally.

And yet, the realization crept in slowly, insidiously, like ink bleeding into parchment.

He listened when she spoke.

Not just out of duty. Not just out of tactical necessity. He listened because something in him wanted to. Because, despite himself, he wanted to hear what she thought, wanted to challenge her strategies, wanted to hear the sharp wit in her responses.

The revelation settled in his chest like an iron weight.

No. Absolutely not.

There was no room for this.

It was nothing more than a passing distraction, an irritant that would fade in time.

It had to.

Of course, Edelgard was the first to notice.

They had taken to meeting in the gardens more often as the months passed, a quiet reprieve from the watchful eyes of the monastery. It was an unspoken tradition—here, they spoke freely, their words untainted by the expectations of those around them.

Hubert sat beside her, posture straight despite the deceptive ease with which he carried himself. The conversation had been about Enbarr, about the shifting tides within the Empire, about their next moves.

And then Edelgard stopped mid-sentence.

Her voice simply faded, and when he turned to question her, he found her watching him, one brow slightly raised.

"You stopped speaking, Your Highness," he remarked, his voice as smooth and measured as ever. "I assume you expect me to reach the conclusion myself?"

Edelgard did not immediately answer. Instead, she studied him with an expression far too calculating for his liking.

"You’ve been distracted lately," she said at last.

Hubert’s fingers barely twitched against his knee. "I am never distracted."

"You are," Edelgard countered, her tone light but precise—like the edge of a blade resting just against the skin. "I’ve seen you watching her."

His body went utterly still.

It was a rare thing, for Hubert to be caught off guard. He had spent years ensuring his composure was unshakable, his emotions a locked vault to all but himself.

And yet, there was something about the way Edelgard looked at him now that unsettled him. Not because she was wrong. But because she wasn’t.

His response was immediate, practiced. "I observe everyone."

Edelgard hummed, unconvinced. "Perhaps. But not like this."

He let a pause settle between them, calculating his next move.

Edelgard was not someone easily swayed by deflection, nor was she prone to meaningless speculation. If she had brought this up, it meant she had already drawn her conclusion.

And yet, the absurdity of it all nearly made him scoff aloud.

Did she truly believe there was anything to analyze here? That he, of all people, would waste his time entertaining such a notion?

"I see potential where others do not," he said at last, his tone carefully dispassionate. "That is all."

Edelgard tilted her head slightly, considering him. Then—"Then tell me, Hubert—why is it that when she speaks, you listen?"

Hubert exhaled through his nose, forcing himself into stillness.

The question was irrelevant.

It should have been irrelevant.

And yet, as her words settled between them, he found himself unable to immediately summon an answer.

Because the truth—the insidious, infuriating truth—was that Edelgard was right.

And he hated that more than anything else.

The next day arrived far too quickly for Hubert’s liking.

His night had been restless. Despite his best efforts, sleep had eluded him, his mind fixating on details he had no business lingering on—the echo of [Name]’s voice, the amused tilt of her head, the warmth that came across his fingertips whenever the hands ghosted past each other. It was all irrelevant.

And yet, he found himself dwelling on it.

By the time morning arrived, his irritation had settled into something sharp and simmering, coiled tight in his chest like a wound that refused to heal. He had spent the better part of the day directing his focus toward his duties—pouring over intelligence reports, refining strategy discussions with Edelgard, ensuring that the pieces of their inevitable war moved as intended.

It should have been enough to drown out the unwanted distraction.

And yet, when he found himself passing through the monastery halls that evening, he hesitated at the sight before him.

The courtyard was quiet, the lanterns casting a warm glow against the cobblestone path. [Name] stood beneath one of the great archways, speaking with Ferdinand of all people, her arms loosely crossed over her chest. She looked relaxed—comfortable in a way that irritated him for reasons he refused to examine.

She laughed at something Ferdinand said, a small shake of her head following, and though the sound was distant, it still reached him.

Hubert exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to keep walking. Irrelevant. Meaningless.

And yet, before he could pass entirely, [Name] glanced up—sharp as ever, always aware of her surroundings. Their gazes met, and for a moment, she studied him quiet curiosity.

She lifted a hand, fingers brushing against her temple in a casual, almost lazy salute.

He said nothing. Did nothing. Simply turned away and continued down the corridor.

Yet, even as he moved beyond her sight, the tension in his jaw refused to ease.

He should have expected Edelgard to comment on the matter.

The two of them were reviewing intelligence reports later that night when she suddenly asked, without looking up, “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or should I hazard a guess?”

Hubert did not so much as pause in turning the page. “If something were bothering me, Your Highness, I assure you, you would not need to ask.”

Edelgard made a quiet sound, somewhere between acknowledgment and amusement. “Ah. So we’re pretending, then.”

His fingers stilled against the parchment.

She wasn’t going to let it go.

He sighed, allowing the briefest moment of exasperation to slip through. “If you wish to entertain yourself with speculation, I will not stop you. However, I have work to attend to.”

Edelgard finally set her own papers down, clasping her hands together in her lap. “Work that you’re performing with significantly less efficiency than usual.”

His jaw tightened. “That is hardly true.”

Her gaze was unwavering. “It is, actually. I expected better from you.”

That almost made him bristle, but he knew better than to let Edelgard see she had struck a nerve. Instead, he adjusted his posture, keeping his expression impassive. “Perhaps I have simply had much to consider.”

Her lips twitched at that. “I imagine you have.”

Silence settled between them, and Hubert was about to return to his work when Edelgard spoke again, voice far too casual for his liking.

“She was with Ferdinand earlier.”

His fingers tensed. She?

Edelgard, perceptive as ever, took his silence as confirmation.

“Hmm.” She tilted her head. “He certainly seems fond of her.”

Hubert exhaled slowly. “Everyone is fond of her.”

Edelgard’s brows lifted ever so slightly. “And you, Hubert?”

He leveled her with a sharp look. “You already know the answer to that question, Your Highness.”

She smiled faintly, though there was something knowing in the way she regarded him. “Do I?”

Hubert did not entertain her with a response.

Instead, he forced himself to return to his papers, ignoring the quiet amusement in Edelgard’s eyes as she, too, resumed her work.

She had no need to push further.

The damage was already done.

That night, as Hubert retired to his quarters, he found his mind plagued with yet another irrelevant detail—

Ferdinand had made her laugh.

It was stupid. A ridiculous, meaningless thing to fixate on.

And yet, as he sat at his desk, staring down at a report he had already read twice without absorbing a word, the thought lingered.

He scowled at himself, setting the papers aside. It is nothing.

Yet as the candlelight flickered against the walls, as the night stretched on, he found himself leaning back in his chair, fingers pressed against his temple.

For the first time in years, Hubert von Vestra had lost control of something.

And he hated it.

Hubert had made a decision.

Ignoring the problem had done nothing but deepen the irritation lodged beneath his skin. Edelgard had noticed, he had noticed—and sooner or later, she would as well. He refused to allow that to happen.

And so, rather than waste another evening lost in his thoughts, Hubert took the most direct approach possible.

He sought [Name] out.

He found her in the monastery gardens, seated beneath one of the stone archways, flipping through a book with a thoughtful expression.

She noticed him immediately, of course. She always did. Her sharp eyes flicked up from the pages, mild surprise crossing her face before a knowing smirk tugged at her lips.

“Well,” she mused, closing the book. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Neither did I,” Hubert admitted dryly.

She raised an eyebrow, amusement evident. “Ah, so this is a social visit, then? What a rare occasion.”

It was a social visit, in a way—an effort to dismantle whatever this was before it dug any deeper beneath his skin. And so, for the first time in a long while, Hubert attempted something unthinkable.

He tried to make her laugh.

“I was under the impression that I should attempt to be more… approachable,” he said, voice as flat as ever. “It was either this or smiling at people in the dining hall.”

[Name] blinked.

And then—

She laughed.

It was short, but it was genuine. A startled, warm sound that rang through the quiet evening air.

Hubert immediately regretted it.

Not because it was unsuccessful.

But because he liked it.

He tensed, ensuring his expression remained neutral as [Name] shook her head, still grinning. “That was the worst attempt at humor I’ve ever heard,” she teased.

“Then it is fortunate that I do not make a habit of it,” he countered, tone clipped, already eager to shift the conversation elsewhere.

And so, he did.

“Earlier,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “I saw you speaking with Ferdinand.”

[Name] blinked again, this time in confusion. “...And?”

Hubert exhaled sharply. He had not intended for this to sound like an interrogation, and yet that was precisely what it was beginning to resemble. “You seemed rather comfortable with him.”

Her brows lifted, amusement creeping back into her expression. “And?” she repeated.

Hubert’s jaw tightened.

There was no reason for this conversation to feel as aggravating as it did. He should not care what her answer was. And yet, standing here beneath the dimming sky, watching the way she tilted her head at him with that same unreadable curiosity—he needed to know.

Finally, [Name] sighed, shaking her head with mock exasperation. “If you must know, I was helping him.”

“Helping him with what?”

She smirked. “His love life, actually.”

Hubert went still.

A beat passed.

Then another.

"...Pardon?"

[Name] snickered at his visible confusion, clearly enjoying this far more than she should have been. “He asked for my advice on how to approach someone for the upcoming ball.”

Hubert could not immediately form a response.

He had spent the past twenty-four hours in an increasingly frustrating spiral of misplaced irritation, self-inflicted exasperation, and wholly unnecessary over-analysis, and yet the reality was far simpler than he had expected.

It had nothing to do with her.

It had never been about her.

His shoulders loosened, only slightly, as he exhaled through his nose. “I see.”

[Name] was still smirking. “What, were you worried about me, Vestra?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he shot back immediately.

She only grinned wider.

And for reasons he could not quite comprehend, Hubert felt something in his chest settle.

Only slightly.

But it was enough.

In the weeks following their conversation in the gardens, something between them shifted.

During training exercises, they moved together with a synchronicity that had not been there before. When one advanced, the other adjusted. When Hubert laid down suppressing fire with his spells, [Name] was already reading the battlefield, maneuvering into position. Their strategies became sharper, their efficiency undeniable.

The others began to notice.

“Impressive,” Dorothea remarked after a particularly grueling sparring session. “You two actually coordinate now. It’s almost like you’re friends.”

Hubert scoffed. “That is an exaggeration.”

[Name], wiping sweat from her brow, smirked. “Oh, come now, Vestra. Don’t tell me you like working with me?”

“I tolerate your presence,” he corrected smoothly.

She laughed.

And—though Hubert would never admit it—he did not find it unpleasant.

It was on a rare quiet afternoon, over lunch, that Edelgard introduced her latest scheme.

The Black Eagles had gathered in the dining hall, the usual hum of conversation filling the space. Hubert had taken his usual seat beside Edelgard, [Name] sitting across from them, idly picking at her meal while Ferdinand and Linhardt discussed something heatedly beside her.

Edelgard, seemingly unbothered by their bickering, set down her fork and addressed [Name] directly.

“I have a favor to ask.”

[Name] raised an eyebrow. “A favor?”

Edelgard nodded. “The ball is approaching.”

Hubert, who had been otherwise focused on his meal, immediately stiffened.

[Name], unaware of his reaction, only shrugged. “I’m aware.”

Edelgard folded her hands together. “Since I will be attending with Professor Byleth, I was wondering—would you mind taking Hubert in my place?”

There was a brief silence.

[Name] blinked.

Hubert—who had, up until this moment, believed himself immune to shock—felt something akin to horror seep into his bones.

“…I’m sorry, what?” [Name] finally said, looking between the two of them.

Edelgard remained utterly composed. “I imagine Hubert would not bother to attend unless given an obligation. I would prefer that he make an appearance, at least for a short while.”

Hubert turned his sharpest glare toward her. “Your Highness.”

Edelgard smiled. “I believe you would be the most capable of ensuring he does not spend the evening hiding in the shadows.”

[Name] glanced at Hubert, then back at Edelgard, an amused smile forming on her lips. “You want me to drag him onto the dance floor, don’t you?”

“That is not a requirement,” Edelgard said mildly. “But I would not object.”

[Name] leaned back in her chair, watching Hubert closely now. “And what do you think of this arrangement, Vestra?”

Hubert exhaled slowly, regaining his composure. “I think Edelgard is conspiring against me.”

[Name]’s grin widened. “That’s not a no.”

“It was not a yes, either.”

She rested her chin in her hand, as if considering. “Well, I suppose I could find someone else…”

Hubert did not know why those words irritated him.

He had no interest in attending the ball, and even less interest in who [Name] chose to go with.

And yet.

Before she could say anything further, he spoke, “Very well.”

[Name] blinked, looking almost surprised at his agreement. “…Really?”

He sighed. “If it will satisfy Her Highness.”

Edelgard, looking altogether too pleased, inclined her head. “I appreciate your cooperation.”

The evening of the ball arrived far too quickly for Hubert’s liking.

He had anticipated this—had known from the moment Edelgard had maneuvered him into this arrangement that the night would be a carefully orchestrated disaster. What he had not anticipated, however, was the weight that settled in his chest as he stood at the entrance of the grand ballroom, watching [Name] move effortlessly through the crowd.

She had always been sharp, always held herself with the confidence of someone who belonged wherever she stood. But here, under the warm glow of chandeliers, draped in the soft elegance of the occasion, she looked unburdened.

Hubert felt the ache of it settle deeper.

Because he knew the truth.

This was fleeting. A single, hollow night carved from the inevitable. Soon, Garreg Mach would cease to be their home. The lines they had once danced between as students would become battlefields. And no matter how much he tried to suppress the truth clawing at the back of his mind, he knew—

He would lose her.

Perhaps not in death, but in loyalty. In trust. In the way she looked at him now, unguarded, teasing, without the weight of betrayal behind her eyes.

Foolish. It was foolish to let himself dwell on such things.

And yet, here he was.

She found him before he could consider slipping away.

“Are you brooding already?” she mused, plucking two glasses of wine from a passing server and offering one to him. “We haven’t even been here an hour.”

Hubert took the glass without thinking, narrowing his eyes. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

She sipped her drink, glancing toward the dance floor. “It’s a nice night. Shame to waste it sulking.”

His gaze flickered across the room, noting the way the others moved with such ease—students who, unlike him, could afford to treat this as just another evening. He envied them.

She nudged him lightly. “Are you really that miserable?”

“Perhaps I do not see the appeal in pointless celebration.”

[Name] hummed, setting her glass aside. “Then perhaps you just haven’t properly participated.”

Hubert arched a brow. “If you are suggesting what I think you are suggesting—”

She grinned, reaching for his hand. “Oh, come now, Vestra. It’s just one dance.”

He hesitated.

Not because he didn’t want to—that was the problem.

Because the moment he let himself have this—this brief, meaningless indulgence—he would never be able to pretend that he didn’t want more.

But her fingers were already curling around his, and to his own damnation, he let her pull him forward.

The dance was slow, measured. Not extravagant, not dramatic, but effortless. She matched his movements easily, adjusting when he did, anticipating him just as she did on the battlefield. Their hands met, their steps aligned, and for a moment, it was just them.

Hubert did not allow himself to feel.

Not the warmth of her palm against his, nor the way her eyes searched his face with something unreadable.

And yet, as the music swelled and the world around them blurred, he knew—

This was the last time they would stand together like this.

That realization nearly broke him.

When the song came to an end, [Name] stepped back, tilting her head. “See? Not so terrible.”

He released her hand, the ghost of her touch lingering far too long. “Debatable.”

She laughed.

And Hubert committed the sound to memory.

The monastery burned around them.

Distant screams and the clash of steel rang through the ruined halls, yet for a moment, in this shattered corridor between the chaos, it was just the two of them.

[Name] stood before him, her sword at her side, her breathing steady despite the weight pressing on her chest. The torchlight flickered against her face, illuminating the questions in her eyes, the ones she was no longer holding back.

“How could you?”

Her voice was quiet, but it carried through the space between them like a blade drawn from its sheath.

Hubert did not flinch. He did not avert his gaze. But the words struck true.

“You knew,” she continued, stepping closer. “You knew what this would do. What it would mean.”

His silence was an answer in itself.

[Name] swallowed, shaking her head. “We—” She exhaled sharply, jaw tightening. “You—”

She faltered, and for the first time, something like frustration flickered across her face. Not at him. Not at the battle. But at the ache of it, the unbearable weight of knowing this had never been a misunderstanding.

He had chosen this.

Had chosen Edelgard.

Had chosen war over whatever was left between them.

“And you did it anyway,” she said finally.

Hubert’s fingers curled at his sides, his expression unreadable.

He could have given her a dozen answers—ones that would have been clean, logical, precise. It had to be done. This is bigger than us. You would never have stood beside us.

But none of them would be enough.

[Name] let out a breath, her voice steadier now. “Say something.”

His throat felt tight. But when he finally spoke, his voice was smooth, measured—just as it had always been.

“This will not be the last time you see me.”

[Name] stilled.

He saw the way her fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword, the way her jaw tensed as she searched his face for something—some flicker of hesitation, some sign that this was not as inevitable as it seemed.

But Hubert offered nothing else.

Her lips parted slightly, but whatever words had been forming were lost. Instead, she stepped back.

Her blade remained lowered.

She turned away.

And Hubert let her go.

Because this war was not yet over.

And no matter what path they walked from here, their story was not finished.

Later, when the dust had settled and the monastery stood as nothing more than a fractured ruin behind them, Edelgard found him alone.

She approached quietly, pausing at his side, her gaze flickering to where his hands were clasped behind his back.

“I am sorry, Hubert.”

His expression did not change. “For what, exactly?”

Edelgard hesitated. “For what this cost you.”

His fingers twitched, barely perceptible.

But his voice was even as he replied, “It cost me nothing.”

Edelgard looked at him for a long moment.

She said nothing more.

Because they both knew it was a lie.

[Name] had always believed that time would make this easier.

Five years had passed. Five years of war, of choices that could not be undone, of paths that had led her back to the ruins of the monastery she once called home. The rain fell in a steady rhythm, cold against her skin, but she barely felt it.

She had told herself she would not come.

And yet, when the letter arrived—folded simply, bearing no seal, the ink unmistakably his—she had known she could not ignore it.

A single line. A place. A time.

Nothing more.

And so, she was here.

When she reached the clearing near the edge of Garreg Mach, she was not surprised to find him waiting.

Hubert stood beneath the great oak, the only part of this place that remained untouched by war. He was as she remembered, yet not the same—taller, sharper, his presence heavier than it had been before. The years had not softened him. If anything, they had turned him into something colder, something carved entirely from shadow.

And yet, his eyes, when they met hers, were the same.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then his voice cut through the rain.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

It was steady, measured—carefully composed as always. But she heard it. Beneath the surface, beneath the weight of five years and everything left unsaid, there was something else.

Something only she would recognize.

[Name] pulled back her hood, the white-and-gold crest of the Church stark against her shoulders. “And yet you waited.”

His only response was to shift his cloak slightly, offering her coverage. A small, useless gesture, considering the direction of the rain, but she did not step away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she murmured.

“I should be many things,” he replied, tilting his head slightly. “But at this moment, I choose to be here.”

She exhaled, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

They had known this would happen. Had always known. But standing here, with the weight of everything between them, she realized the most painful truth of all.

He was still him.

The student years felt like another life. Back then, they had debated in lecture halls, sharpened their skills in battle, traded wit and strategy in the gardens of Garreg Mach. Back then, there had been no sides, no war looming on the horizon, no betrayal waiting to split the world in two.

But those days were gone.

“Then say it,” she said quietly. “Say what we both know.”

Hubert’s expression did not shift. “You intend to stand against us.”

“And you intend to go through with this.”

“I do.”

The answer should not have hurt.

[Name] swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “You knew this was where we would end up.”

Hubert’s gaze flickered downward, toward her gloved hands. He hesitated—just for a second, just enough for her to notice—but then his expression smoothed over, unreadable once more. “I knew.”

“And you still waited for me.”

He lifted his chin slightly. “Yes.”

The rain pressed in around them, a fragile barrier between the past and what would come next.

It would be so easy to let herself forget, just for this moment. To let herself believe they were still the same people they had been before the war had shaped them into something unrecognizable. To imagine that their choices hadn’t already set them on opposite sides of a battlefield.

But she had chosen her side. Just as he had chosen his.

“Does Edelgard know?” she asked finally.

He let out a quiet breath—so subtle that she almost didn’t catch it. “She suspects. But she has Byleth now. She has little reason to concern herself with my missteps.”

Byleth.

The professor who had once guided them had long since cast their lot with the Empire. [Name] wondered if they had ever hesitated—if the weight of what was to come had settled in their chest the same way it had in hers.

“And you?” Hubert’s voice was softer now. “Do you believe in what you’re fighting for?”

[Name] looked up at him.

It was the question she had asked herself countless times. Did she fight for Rhea, the woman who had raised her, or for the remnants of a world that felt like it was slipping through her fingers?

“I believe in protecting what little remains,” she admitted.

Hubert studied her, the glow of distant torches casting sharp shadows across his face. “Then we truly are on opposite sides.”

She swallowed. “We always were, weren’t we?”

Hubert did not answer. Instead, he shifted, adjusting his grip on his cloak, his free hand brushing against hers—just for a second. It was an accident, surely. A mistake. And yet, neither of them moved away.

It would have been easier if he had let her hate him. If he had become the monster so many in the Church claimed him to be.

But he was still the same man who had once stood beside her in the lecture halls, who had quietly ensured she never walked alone when their missions sent them into enemy territory, who had always, always watched her from the shadows, even when he pretended not to care.

[Name] closed her eyes. The rain pattered softly against the fabric of their shared cover, a fragile barrier against the inevitable.

She turned to him, their faces close in the dim light.

“If we meet on the battlefield—”

“I will not hesitate,” Hubert said, though his voice lacked its usual conviction.

[Name] should have turned and left. That would have been the logical choice, the wise one. Instead, she lingered, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around the fabric of his cloak where it draped over them both.

Neither of them moved.

For just a moment—one fleeting, fragile moment—they were not enemies.

“I wish things had been different,” she whispered, finally allowing herself to admit it.

Hubert exhaled through his nose, a quiet, tired sound. “That is a foolish wish.”

“I know.”

His eyes, sharp and calculating even in the dim light, softened—just barely. He was a man of practicality, of ruthless efficiency, and yet, here they stood, soaked in rain and wrapped in the illusion of something that could never be.

“I would have followed you,” she murmured. “If things had been different. If—”

Hubert silenced her with a rare, unexpected touch, his gloved fingers brushing against the side of her face.

The world outside their small shelter didn’t exist. There were no war horns, no banners, no looming battle that would force them to cross blades.

“[Name].” He rarely said her name, always opting for something detached—as he was taught that names had power. And yet, tonight, he spoke it as if it was something sacred.

He leaned in.

It was not a rushed thing, nor desperate—it was deliberate, like every move he had ever made. His lips met hers in something soft, fleeting, something that did not belong in a world filled with war.

[Name] barely breathed, her fingers instinctively finding the folds of his coat as if holding on would change their fates.

But it wouldn’t.

And so, she let go.

Hubert pulled back, his expression unreadable, though she could see it—the quiet resignation, the knowledge that whatever had just passed between them could never be acknowledged.

“This never happened,” she said, forcing herself to step back, to remove herself from his warmth.

Hubert straightened, his mask of cold detachment settling back into place, as though it had never slipped. “No. It didn’t.”

Neither of them moved for a long moment.

Then, with a final glance—one that held more than either of them could say—[Name] turned on her heel and walked away, vanishing into the rain.

By the time she reached the monastery walls, she dared to look back.

Hubert was gone.

Just as he always had been.

Editor's Note: Initially this was just going to be an extended version of the last piece. But them I wanted to provide foundation context. And then it spiraled into this. Hope you enjoy!

Also, going forward I will be approaching requests indirectly, particularly for anon made requests. For non-anon, I can either tag or directly dm depending on preference.

[sergeanthopeless]

(belated)

I hear that the dopamine from sharing WIPs is good motivation. I’m pretty low on motivation this days, what with a new baby taking most of my energy and attention and trying to transition back into my day job taking the rest. But this fic is important to me, and I need to get it out of my system. So here’s a much-overdue update on Ch.2 of the Arranged Marriage Setleth AU to keep myself accountable!

Rhea tells no one but her most trusted cardinals of where she is going: She settles in Zanado, the only appropriate place. Zanado was where Sothis had arrived to Fódlan. It had been her home and her seat of power. Rhea leaves behind an official excuse, claiming the need to “purify herself”. This would be nothing new to them; she has done this before, when her duties have become too much and she needs respite. Of course, this absence would be longer. It pains her to leave behind the remains of her brethren so unguarded, but she has the ancient Zanadite technology, and the Tomb itself is locked to all but her touch. The Church is self-sufficient; it can afford to go without her for a year or so. She is not abandoning the Church or her people. This is for the greater good, for she is restoring the goddess to her rightful place.

[if-fe3h-was-good]

FE3H supports that are actually hilarious in our opinion

(part of a series ranking all FE3H supports) Some paired endings were initially gross and then we thought, wait actually, this could be funny--

Ferdinand x Manuela

Ferdinand: i love my MILF wife

Linhardt x Catherine

Catherine introduces Linhardt as “boytoy” at every function

Bernadetta x Seteth

Please imagine Bernadetta writing erotic saint cichol fanfiction

And imagine Seteth’s response was not negative

Dorothea x Sylvain

THE most divorced energy

Sylvain x M!Byleth

Sylvain casually flirting with Byleth over and over again and Byleth starts responding but Sylvain continues assuming they’re good buddies up to and past the wedding night

Ingrid x Yuri

Imagine Ingrid marrying a mafia boss who she doesn’t know is a mafia boss. She never finds out

Lorenz x Leonie

Leonie does stand up comedy all about “i hate my husband” and earns millions and becomes tiktok famous

Lorenz x Catherine

Catherine gives him a concussion and Lorenz got turned on by it

Ignatz x F! and M! Byleth

Ignatz takes “fuck the goddess” literally

Byleth would run away at first but they’re too polite to turn him down forever

Lysithea and Balthus

Just imagine them as Yzma and Kronk it makes sense I promise–

Seteth x Catherine

Please imagine one night as they’re searching for Rhea during the five year time skip in Blue Lions route and they are so depressed and wound up they have a one night stand 

but let’s be honest it’s not good they both regret it heavily and can’t look each other in the eye ever again

Sothis x F! and M! Byleth

It’s basically canon that this is how their A+ support went:

Sothis: “I want a human relationship so I guess we’re married now!!!” 

Byleth: “oh well you’re the goddess so that’s legally binding”

[kitkatopinions]

Permission to ask about your favourite three houses ships?

Absolutely! My absolute favorite ship from Fire Emblem Three Houses/Hopes is Claude x Lorenz. I know a lot of people hate Lorenz, but I love him, and if you put in the work, his supports with Claude are just everything. They really seemed to lean into it for Three Hopes too. I mean just look at them.

LIKE?!?!?! How can they have this much chemistry and not get married?!?!? I didn't originally ship them, but there's some excellent fanart and once I started thinking about it, it felt so obvious and now it's my OTP.

But I have other ships! My other favorites are Dimitri x male Byleth, Caspar x Lindhart, female Byleth x Mercedes, Rhea x Catherine, Catherine x Shamir, Shez x Arval. And this might sound weird but I also ship Hilda x Dedue (because I wrote a fanfic once where Claude and the golden deer teamed up with Dimitri and saved him before the time skip and Hilda wound up harboring Dimitri and Dedue in her house secretly and me and the person I was writing with wound up loving the dynamic we created for her and Dedue,) and Felix x Holst but not as he is in Three Hopes (because that same fanfic was written prior to the release of Three Hopes so I'd invented my own version of Holst and he and Felix hit it off.)

Also I casually like the ship between Dimitri and Sylvain, Caspar and Ashe, Caspar and Ferdinand, Dorothea and female Byleth, and Leonie and Seteth.

So yeah, very few of them have supports where they wind up officially married, but I love them all the same. Also almost everyone in this game is queer and the only reason why only like four of them are canonical is because the writers are cowards.

[feshippingpolls]

The squequal to the 3h mlm polycule.

F!Byleth x Edelgard x Dorothea x Mercedes.

I have no propaganda for this one like I did the other, sorry yuri fans :(

(Excluding Rhea and Sothis because they're Bylethsexuals)

FE: Should they kiss?

Byleth x Edelgard x Dorothea x Mercedes

[ranowa-arts]

dragon-hunter edelgard

HELLO, IS THIS THING ON

I NEED A BIGGER GUN

my list of creatures for inktober actually ran out with water nymph so i was just planning to do something vague with byleth or rhea or edelgard for the last one, i didn't really have any ideas. and then XENOBLADE X ANNOUNCEMENT TRAILER

THE WIND BLOWS, HARD IN DECEMBER

THE LAST FIGHT DO YOU REMEMBER

i DO remember my last fight, i soloed telethia the endbringer with my rook that had edelgard's VA, and now i'm gonna get to DO IT AGAIN >:D

BLOSSOM DANCE BABEY