#i love them but they are all a mess and sylvain is absolutely the worst of them in this way

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

random Dimitri/Sylvain/Felix relationships thoughts (Ingrid isn't part of it for a reason, hear me out, it's part of this whole thing lol) but

it's interesting to think about the differences in his relationships with Sylvain and Felix in Houses and Hopes when in Houses in CF, Sylvain is the one by Dimitri's end until the very end, but they both die. when he's left with just Felix in SB, they both survive.

it's worth noting that Dimitri and Sylvain are both revenge driven and aggressive individuals, so if it's just the two of them, it makes sense that they would support each other's desire to fight until they die.

Felix is dead in CF by the time you reach them if you didn't recruit Felix. that means he's not there to stop them from sacrificing themselves. in SB he is alive but has to retreat, and Sylvain goes out to fight after that. at that point though Ingrid is already dead, and Sylvain wanted revenge. that said, Felix had retreated, so death-wish Sylvain didn't have Felix to stop him from fighting until it killed him.

in CF, Felix and Ingrid were (presumably barring recruitment) dead, so nothing was going to stop him from dying trying to get revenge or dying fighting for Dimitri. in SB too, Ingrid is dead. in both cases he's lost someone dear to him and dies wanting revenge/to protect what he has left.

in CF/SB, Sylvain dies no matter what story-wise (bar Houses recruitment), dying out of his loyalty to his friends and wanting revenge (and likely the grief of any loss spurring him to fight until he dies). while I'm not 100 percent sure on this, I'm pretty sure Sylvain isn't among the pity recruitment cast in Houses, where you defeat them and you get the option for them to join you. I'm pretty sure that's not available for Sylvain if he wasn't recruited in the first place.

if it's Sylvain and Dimitri fighting together they both die... because neither has regard for their own life and because they both believe in fighting until the end. both of them are willing to die for revenge normally, but when they have each other and nobody else (re: Ingrid and Felix and also Rodrigue are dead by this point without recruitment for the former two)? you've got two people with that mindset and nobody to stop them. they will stay and fight together until they fall though. that is, their loyalty will remain between them right to the grave.

Felix hates that and even tells Rodrigue in their A support that he would find a way for himself and Dimitri to get out of the situation alive. he wouldn't even consider dying an option. this is exactly what happens in SB after they've lost all their friends and family, save for Dedue, and Felix retreats because it's better to him than dying. mind you, Dimitri also retreats when defeated in SB in that same chapter - the chapter that Felix is alive.

in VW, Sylvain "jokes" that he'll keep fighting like he wants to die because it's worked up until then. mind you, Dimitri is dead by the point he says that (in SB, Ingrid was dead by the point Sylvain died too). Sylvain is basically New Mystery's Wolf, where he keeps fighting recklessly as if trying to die (which is literally Wolf's ending text). considering Hopes kept the whole "one of my best friends died and I'm extremely suicidal now" deal, I think it's safe to say that losing his closest friends (any of them) will make him spiral.

in CF, he's lost Felix and Ingrid (either to death or betrayal), and is fighting at the last line of defense, having lost two of his dearest friends and knowing their enemies are coming for the last one he has (and it makes sense he'd be okay with dying at that point, because I think it'd be way too much for him to lose all three of his friends and be left alone). in VW, he's lost Dimitri and also his sense of caring about survival. in SB, he's lost Ingrid. in AG/AM, he isn't nearly as suicidal because he hasn't lost any of his most important people.

not sure I'm explaining this well! but! what I'm basically saying is that if Felix is there to stop them from being suicidal (retreating counts as not being present in the moment to be able to prevent it), it works out. he does succeed in his desire to get them out alive rather than anyone having to be sacrificed for any of them to make it out. if he's not there though, if he or Ingrid died, Sylvain will also die. if Dimitri dies but Sylvain is recruited (VW), he'll still keep trying to die.

in a way Felix being alive and present is what holds Dimitri and Sylvain back from throwing their lives away. Sylvain is more like, Felix has to literally be right there though to stop him, or he won't back down even if it kills him. it's like when you tell a kid not to steal a cookie and they won't steal it while you're there... but once you leave the room that kid is gonna steal that cookie. if Felix walks out for five minutes and one of their friends was killed, Sylvain is going to fight in a way that risks him dying.

if Sylvain hasn't lost any of them he's much more okay, but the moment he loses any of them, he's out for blood. he's worse than Dimitri in that way, because if Dimitri is in a healthier mindset he can be helped and stopped. Sylvain will wait until nobody is looking to go run out and fight, and either get revenge or die trying.

since Ingrid is the first to die among the Suicidal Three Musketeers, I can't really delve into how she'd react to it. she dies in CF (if not recruited) before Sylvain or Dimitri are fought in the following chapter, and in SB she's the first to die as well. however, we do know her dying will spur Sylvain into a reckless revenge fest.

when I say Sylvain is just generally bloodthirsty for revenge though, I'm also counting the fact that he wants revenge for his father in GW. it's not in the main story, but if Claude gets close enough to him in battle, it will trigger a dialogue between them and well... suffice to Sylvain is pissed. that man is the biggest revenge driven man in Faerghus, even outdoing Dimitri himself (Dimitri is a lot more calculating and reasoning when he's not at his lowest points. Sylvain just doesn't care and will go right for it).

[professor-tammi]

AG rambles, up to the penultimate chapter (I might actually finish the game! soon!)

- ok quick gameplay advice to anyone who’s playing AG, when you get the Catherine / Shamir / Jeralt paralogue, just skip it. yes I am serious. it’s an absolute nightmare to play I spent almost 2 hours restarting it

(maybe it’s a little more forgiving on Normal mode but I honestly doubt it’s by much. this is the worst map I’ve played in any musou game, by far)

- after recruiting Byleth Sylvain of course gets a line about how she’s a “stunning beauty”... Sylvain... (Ingrid tells him to shut up)

- so anyway. the can of worms that is Edelgard in AM... it’s... not great. the game confirms that she’s lost her memory, essentially, and seems to have mentally regressed to being, like... 10 or something. I dunno. either way I am not a fan -- I do kinda get why the writers did it and it puts me at ease to know it at least wasn’t a Creep reason but mmmmm I do not like it

- also hilariously, once you get to the bonus chapter where Arval transports you to Slitherland, Edelgard’s amnesia is sort of randomly undone and Dimitri and Claude have to explain to her that she’s been under mind control for half a year and the Empire is a total mess (which she’s not terribly happy to hear). like, okay, I guess the plot explanation is supposed to be something along the lines of, being in Slitherland undoes the magic? or being away from Thales undoes it? honestly I don’t even know but it’s kinda sloppy writing

- you get little cutscenes (supports! ish!) between your house leader and the other two lords here, which I think is rather nice. Claude and Dimitri’s scene has Claude openly admit that he just wants to Destroy the Church, which... idk how I feel about this being his motivation know because I don’t know Houses!Claude well enough to comment on it, really, but I find their conversation interesting anyhow?

so Dimitri basically goes, “ok I get that you want to destroy the church and I agree on a personal level. but are you cool with faerghus” and Claude is like “yep” and something about this is inherently very funny to me. maybe it’s all the accusations of Dimitri being pro-Church I’ve seen over the years despite evidence to the contrary :’)

anyhow Dimitri then brings up three issues with abolishing the Church, which is that it would make Faerghus kingless again which would lead to another civil war, and that it would cause a problem for actual believers (you don’t say...), and that... it would put commoners and Claude himself at risk. to which Claude says that he can take care of himself. I suppose this is what one might call dimiclaude content :D?

- since Edelstans love taking Dimitri lines out of context I just know we are going to see this one, where Dimitri talks about his three reasons for not wanting the Church gone:

Dimitri: First, abolishing the church would deny the king’s right to rule Faerghus.

which does not look great without the followup line:

Dimitri: Without one, the people will descend into chaos and war.

- the Dimitri / Edelgard conversation is hilariously awkward, though Dimitri at least directly confronts her about Patricia and asks if Edelgard was involved in her death, to which she says that she wasn’t

... then there’s a random earthquake and Edelgard trips and you get a whole CG artpiece of Dimitri helping Edelgard up, where Edelgard takes his hand and starts to thank him before cutting off with a hmph which is also so funny to me. that is remarkably Felix of you Edelgard!!

Edelgard then recounts something similar happening to her as a child, and Dimitri says he has the same memory (I think pretty obviously implying that yes, he did help her up back then too, but she can’t recall it was him), to which Edelgard hastily tries to cut off the conversation and leave (... which I think in turn implies that Edelgard’s memories of Dimitri may have partially come back because Magic, but she’s refusing to acknowledge them because she doesn’t want to grow attached to him,,,,,) (I choose to interpret this as sad siblings content nobody can take that away from me)

- anyway here are my thoughts on the Dimitri / Edelgard conversation: modern AU Dimilix where people keep questioning how and why Dimitri handles Felix’s attitude so well and Dimitri is just like “well, actually, my sister is like that too so I’m used to it! it’s just how some people show affection :)” (Felix overhears this and he Hates It). thanks that is what I think

- in the base camp after ch 12 we get Sylvain talking about Dimilix... fic thought #2 Dimilix with wingman Sylvain. actually, I’m sure that already exists, but still

- Marianne’s base camp dialogue is all about Hilda, and how she recently reunited with her and that she missed her dearly... cute!

- Felix is happy about hopefully not having to face the Death Knight again, which I’m pointing out because it’s a stark contrast to Houses!Felix having base camp dialogues about wanting to fight him in non-AM routes... wonder if that’s a nod to those, or if I’m just reading too much into things

- recruiting Byleth unlocks Felix / Rodrigue A, where they finally talk things out and reconcile. they discuss Glenn, and Rodrigue asks Felix if he wouldn’t have done the same thing in Glenn’s position -- would he have abandoned Dimitri or fought to the death? and Felix, of course, goes “no I would have made sure we BOTH survived >:(” and it’s rather cute ahaha

I noticed this back in 3H as well but Koei’s writers broadly really love criticizing the idea that it is noble to sacrifice yourself for someone else, and that one should instead live for them (this is such an SW thing and it clearly carried over to 3H). this comes out in full force with Felix :D

- the Felix / Shez A support also has some more discussion of Fraldarius / Loog tradition stuff which is, of course, Prime Dimilix Content.

- I rather enjoy the Dedue / Catherine conversations; they discuss how similar their unflinching loyalty to their lord (Dimitri / Rhea) is and Catherine actually goes a step further and compares Dimitri to Rhea. I mostly see Edelgard-Rhea comparisons in fandom, but honestly, the Dimitri-Rhea comparison might ring even more true...

- the Sylvain/Yuri B support is exactly as gay as I’d been told. which is to say. Yuri just straight-up asks Sylvain on a date and Sylvain is like “hmm yeah I’m kinda into that”. if bi Sylvain wasn’t canon enough before it is canon now (but also, it was canon before)

- you get a scene between Caspar and his father before ch 13 that I rather liked, but what stood out to me is that Caspar reacts to the fact that you’ve recruited Linhardt and comments on how he “might be in the Kingdom”. (in the base camp after this chapter, Linhardt is surprisingly at ease with having to potentially fight Caspar; if Shez tells him it must be rough on him since they’re childhood friends, Linhardt just goes “no, not especially”. stone cold!)

- Ashe, of all people, is actually more worried about fighting Caspar, even though they don’t even know each other in this timeline! he mentions that Caspar’s positive attitude was contagious and ponders if they could’ve been friends in another time... you could have. you would have raised a cute kitten together :D!

- for anyone wondering, Edelgard’s siblings are still mentioned in the game -- a random base camp NPC says rumor has it that the emperor’s siblings are all dead, meaning there’s nobody in line to be emperor after Edelgard.

- the most relevant-to-my-personal-interests base camp dialogue is, of course, the Dedue + Felix one, which... well. I’ll just type it out, since I took screencaps:

Dedue: It appears Count Bergliez is now in charge of the Imperial army.

Felix: So I’ve heard. He put up one tough fight in Ailell. Getting past him won’t be easy. He still wishes to be the emperor’s shield, even though he knows that’s going on in the Empire. His sense of duty is admirable. Dialogue option 1: He sounds a lot like Dedue.

Dialogue option 2: He sounds a lot like Felix.

If option 2 is chosen:

[Felix support raised]

Shez: A guy who protects his leader no matter what? Reminds me of you, Felix.

Felix: Hmph. Don’t lump me in with someone like that. I would’ve washed my hands of them and fled a long time ago.

Dedue: I don’t think you’re the kind to make such a decision lightly.

I chose the second option fully expecting Felix to hate it, but it raises support with him? huh!?

objectively speaking, the sort of loyalty described sounds much more akin to Dedue’s than Felix’s, but I occasionally see people complain that Felix stays with Dimitri even throughout his mad phase in early post-timeskip AM and I can only reiterate that Felix is a much more loyal character than people tend to think, especially where Dimitri is concerned

[cavalierious-whim]

Sylvain's wholly unprepared for Felix to ask him to slather sunscreen upon his pasty (well-defined) back.

#

Happy Sylvix Summer. Take my dumb beach fluff rife with Teen-aged Tropey Rom-Com bullshit. Read here on AO3 for better quality, and follow me here on Twitter!

#

Despite his long-harbored crush, Sylvain never thought much of a half-naked Felix until one fateful beach trip.

They’re past their high-school years and well into college. Young enough to not be tied down by relationships. That’d be boring to Sylvain, who has a new flavor every week and happily so.

Mostly because it’s easier to be casual than commit to something that’d mean more.

Felix is just an old friend, he tells himself. A second glance, really. Okay, well, maybe not second-- that’s a cruel thing to say. Sylvain would give his left arm for the guy, literally, but he’s never really considered the why behind the thought until then.

And sure, he’s always liked him, even if Sylvain’s never thought much about it. Felix is kinda cute in a deranged cat sort of way.

But now, it makes a lot of sense. Stares him right in the face, a visage of gleaming pasty white skin and deceptively toned muscles. Sylvain’s just fucking blind and stupid, and now it can’t be unseen.

Felix is no longer a scrawny and gangly thing; now he sports lithe and supple muscle. Defined shoulders and a slim waist that tapers into what’s probably the finest ass Sylvain’s ever seen. Pert and shapely, perfect in every way.

Sylvain stares long enough for his ice cream cone to melt all over his hand.

“I’d tell you to take a picture,” says Ingrid, her laugh pealing through the air from behind her hand. “But that’d only piss him off.”

“Ingrid,” says Sylvain panicked. He shakes the melted, sticky mess from his hand as he continues to gawk. At least they’re in the shade under his umbrella, so it’s only a minor mess. “When on earth did that happen?”

Ingrid raises an eyebrow. “When did what happen?”

Sylvain groans. Of course, she’d make him say it. Ingrid’s the worst (or the best) when it comes to forcing others to make fools of themselves. She’s already adopted a devilish smirk, waiting for Sylvain to dig himself a hole deep in the beach sand.

A grave might be more fitting, considering what Felix would do to him if he ever caught Sylvain staring.

“I mean, what’d you expect?” asks Ingrid, sparing Sylvain from further embarrassment. For the moment. Sylvain knows better than to think that she’s done with him. Ingrid’s only biding her time. “When people play sports, they get ripped.” She points to Sylvain. “Look at you. Look at me.”

“I play baseball,” says Sylvain in a low hiss. “I can throw a pitch as fast as a car on the highway and sprint the length of an entire field. Fencing is barely a sport when compared.”

Ingrid just looks at him, her face flat and unimpressed as she sips at her drink and twirls the tiny decorative beach umbrella within it. “I dare you to tell him that.”

Sylvain flounders the tiniest bit. Absolutely not. He likes living far too much. Ever since Felix picked up a foil and learned how to bout, he’d been considerably more dangerous than the crybaby know-it-all they’d all grown up with.

“But, like… how?” says Sylvain as he wonders, persistent in his confusion as to when Felix suddenly became handsome. Like, model handsome. Like, Sylvain would take him around and then pound him into the sheets handsome.

Sylvain never thinks about sleeping with men. Except for Felix, but that’s something that he usually pushes to the back corner of his mind because it’s really fucking awkward to think that way about your bestie.

And Ingrid knows, she’s known for a stupidly long time because of one shitty night where he’d drunkenly blubbered his feelings out to her. In rare form, she didn’t laugh at him that night, she’d only combed her fingers through his hair and called him the world’s biggest idiot.

He’s good at that. Being dumb. Probably his best quality.

Sylvain can’t stop looking, his eyes grazing over Felix’s perfect form. My wet dreams are never going to be the same again, he thinks, his mouth going dry.

“Disgusting,” says Ingrid, making a face. She knows what Sylvain’s thinking, what he can’t help but agonize about. But then she waves her hand dismissively. “Also, he does squats from sun-up to sun-down. No wonder his ass looks so good.”

“Wait, are you looking?” asks Sylvain a little too quickly. Accusatory. He watches her through a shrewd gaze.

“Oh, Goddess, no. I’d rather choke.” She makes another face, this one cross-eyed as she cuts across her neck with a finger dramatically. “I’ve just been watching your sorry ass moon over him--”

“I’m not mooning--”

“Who’s mooning over what?”

Both Ingrid and Sylvain freeze at Felix’s voice. Then, Sylvain laughs, high-pitched and incredibly awkward.

“Nothing--”

“Sylvain and how he’s--”

Sylvain kicks her and Ingrid curses. Felix watches on, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sylvain’s rarely rude to Ingrid (okay, so that’s a lie; he’s rude to her constantly, but she’s Ingrid, and she deserves it every time), but he shoots her the meanest look that he can muster.

Which, admittedly, isn’t very threatening.

“Is there a reason you look like a fucking five-year-old trying to threaten a classmate who stole your juice box?”

Sylvain nearly congratulates Felix on his brilliant use of imagery. Instead, he starts with, “Felix--”

“Oh, don’t mind him,” cuts in Ingrid. “He’s just annoyed that I called him out on his bullshit.”

With that, Felix perks up because if there’s something that he loves more than anything else, it’s watching Sylvain getting dunked on. Which is more often than Sylvain likes to admit.

“So,” says Felix, “The usual.”

“Felix, why are you even here?” Sylvain doesn’t mean for it to be so biting, but it comes out sounding quite like Felix himself, an absolute feat.

“We’re at the beach, and together at that if I must remind you,” says Felix, cocking his head to the side. “The sun’s high and blazing, and I’m pasty as hell. Help me with this.”

A demand, not a request. So incredibly like Felix. Sylvain barely catches the bottle that is thrown at him. “Sunscreen,” he reads aloud rather dumbly.

“Yes, you dimwit,” says Felix. “Not everyone tans like you. Some of us come out looking like lobsters, and I don’t mean in a tasty kind of way.”

Sylvain disagrees. Felix looks the tastiest he’s ever seen, and Sylvain’s known him for nearly two decades.

“So what, like rub this all over you?”

Felix rolls his eyes, replying slowly like he’s speaking to a child. “Yes. My arms are short and you’re conveniently there. Even if I’m flexible--” Sylvain super doesn’t need to think about that, “--there are parts of my back that I can’t reach.”

Sylvain would rather burn in Ailell than do this because this is now his absolute worst fucking nightmare. A unique hell, tailored just for him. A test of the Goddess.

Or a memory he’ll wank to for months to come.

Definitely the latter, knowing Sylvain.

Ingrid, bless her shrew-like and ill-tempered soul, shoots Sylvain an amused glance. Soaks the entire thing up, her mouth tipped to the side as she delights in Sylvain’s discomfort. This kind of thing fuels her; juicy gossip feeds her for days and then some.

Especially when it comes to Sylvain.

“Ingrid, fuck off,” says Sylvain. Felix, who didn’t see her look, reaches out to swat Sylvain in return. “Ow!”

“You fuck off,” says Felix. “Stop being rude.”

“She’s the one--”

“Alright, I’m leaving,” says Ingrid abruptly, “Before this lover’s spat gets any worse--”

“This isn’t a spat--” starts Sylvain.

“Lover’s?” exclaimed Felix, pink in the face.

That catches Sylvain’s attention as he turns to him. What an odd reaction-- the embarrassment as he refuses to look either of them in the face. Sylvain’s mouth falls open in surprise and Ingrid’s clamps right up. Then, she smiles, the sly little grin that she gets when she’s up to no good. Never bodes well. Sylvain’s about to say something when she speaks.

“I’ll come and check on your boys later, yeah?” Oh, Ingrid’s up to no good, about to throw Sylvain to the sharks. Wholly intent of leaving him behind with Felix and his newfound discovery that his crush is probably more than a crush.

“Ingrid--” starts Sylvain, but before he can properly beg her, Ingrid’s gone, leaving behind nothing but a trail of footprints in the sand.

Felix plops onto the towel in front of Sylvain, his back facing him. Sylvain looks at the expanse of it, far broader than he remembers. He swallows thickly as his hand hovers awkwardly over Felix’s skin.

“Insufferable, that woman. What my brother sees in her I’ll never know.”

“Even people with terrible personalities have matches,” says Sylvain in humor. A decent attempt at distraction that usually works with others.

Felix grunts. “Yes, well, you’d know that best of all, wouldn’t you?”

Ouch, thinks Sylvain. Nasty little stinger right out of left-field but incredibly on-brand for Felix. His favorite thing to do is remind Sylvain about his habitually shitty dating habits.

“That’s a little cruel, don’t you think?” Sylvain uncaps the bottle of sunscreen and squirts a generous amount onto his palms.

“What, can’t handle the criticism?” Felix snorts. “Sylvain, you’ve slept with the entire volleyball team, minus Ingrid.”

“Have you seen them, though? Legs up to here, literally. Except for Ingrid of course, because that’d be so gross--”

“Ridiculous,” says Felix, snorting again. “Utterly predictable. And you wonder why you’re always dead last.”

Sylvain frowns at the strange wording. “I’m top of our class.”

Felix doesn’t immediately answer. “That isn’t what I mean,” he finally says, tilting his head back slightly to look at Sylvain. Then his expression hardens, turning aggressive again. “Are you going to lather me up or should I go ask Ingrid instead?”

“No,” says Sylvain, “Just… yeah, okay. I’ve got this.”

“Sylvain, it’s just sunscreen.” There’s a tiny frown on Felix’s face.

Sylvain’s a confident man, able to woo anyone into his bed. Rubbing sunscreen into Felix’s skin should be easy. It isn’t. Sylvain hesitates and hesitates, fingers hovering over the smooth line of Felix’s bare shoulders.

Nothing explains Sylvain’s sudden dry mouth or the inkling that this is a terrible idea.

“Sylvain,” says Felix, clearly waiting.

Felix’s skin is warm to the touch and soft under Sylvain’s calloused fingers. He starts at his shoulders, massaging the liquid in, squeezing at Felix’s tight muscles.

“Tense?” asks Sylvain, teasing him.

“Tired,” says Felix, sounding-- well, just that. Exhausted, even.

Sylvain’s hands pause as he leans forward slightly. “You train too much.”

“You don’t train enough. You could be on the national team if you gave a shit.”

Sylvain laughs and leans even closer, his mouth near Felix’s ear. “Yeah, well, that’s the difference between us. I don’t want to be on the national team.”

Felix harrumphs and crosses his arms over his chest. “That just makes you dumb, then.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Sylvain smooths his hands across the top of Felix’s shoulders, then sweeps them down and under his blades, thumbs digging into the meat of Felix’s back.

Felix lets out a low moan, a sinful-sounding thing that makes Sylvain bite at his lips and look to the sky. He’s never really prayed before, doesn’t believe in the Goddess, but he asks Seiros for strength.

“Shit, Sylvain,” says Felix with a sigh. “That’s--”

“Seriously, Felix, you’re all locked up.”

Felix whines when Sylvain raises his hand to press into the muscles at the base of his neck, his fingernails just barely scratching across Felix’s skin. “Sorry,” murmurs Felix, pink in the cheeks again, hands shifting awkwardly in his lap.

“You need to cool down properly after your sessions,” says Sylvain. “You’re working yourself too hard. Nothing but knots and bone back here.”

“Sunscreen,” says Felix suddenly.

“What?”

“The sunscreen. Your hands are dry.”

Right. The sunscreen. Sylvain isn’t supposed to be giving Felix a massage, he’s supposed to be oiling him up and readying him for the sun. He slicks his hands up again, murmurs an apology, and finds the lower part of Felix’s back this time.

“Sorry. Can’t have you burning to a crisp out there.”

Felix sighs at the touch, leaning into it slightly and Sylvain nearly dies on the spot. So, maybe he’s just now noticed how handsome Felix is, but it’s not exactly the first time Sylvain’s thought about him like this. Usually, when he does, he tucks it away deep-- not because it’s embarrassing, or Sylvain has reservations about men, but because Felix would slaughter him if he knew.

Sylvain lets out a long breath as he rubs the sunscreen into Felix’s skin, making sure not to miss any spots.

“What’s Ingrid doing?” asks Felix, nodding to where she stands fifty paces away in the sun.

Sylvain looks up, squinting at her. Ingrid flashes him a grin before pressing her thumb and forefinger together on one hand, and then taking her pointer finger with the other and--

“Is she--”

Ingrid makes the crudest gesture known to man, and then, wiggling her eyebrows, points directly to Felix, then Sylvain right after.

Sylvain’s going to kill her. Absolutely murder her in her sleep. He’s got a spare key to her place and he knows where she keeps the sharp knives. Glenn might forgive Sylvain for it if they properly explain. Even though Glenn’s nearly thirty, he still thinks it’s his job to protect Felix.

Especially from Ingrid’s never-ending teasing.

“She’s dead,” says Sylvain. “Next time I’m within a few feet of her.”

“Not if I kill her first,” says Felix.

Sylvain leans over Felix, shooting Ingrid the finger with both hands. She, naturally, shoots him one right back. “So fucking rude,” says Sylvain, leaning back again and slathering his hands with sunscreen once more. “And the things that she implies. Don’t listen to her.”

Strangely, Felix is quiet. Twiddles his thumbs in his lap. Sylvain watches him for a moment before resuming his requested task, catching the spots of his back that he’s missed.

“Would it be so bad?” asks Felix.

Sylvain’s hands pause. “What?”

“The idea of being with me. Is it such a terrible idea?”

Sylvain laughs because that’s what he does when faced with awkward questions. “Felix, we’re too old for gay jokes and Ingrid knows that. She’s just picking on us because it’s how she asserts dominance.”

Felix doesn’t even scoff which is a red flag, so Sylvain grasps him by the shoulders and looks at him from the side. “Hey, wait, are you worried about dating? I thought it wasn’t something you’re interested in?”

They’ve known each other since they were practically in diapers, so of course, they’ve talked about this: girls and dating. Well, more so Sylvain who always talked at Felix. Felix is relatively tight-lipped about it, even now, into their college years. Always says that he’s just not interested.

Never bothered Sylvain one bit.

“I mean, I know some cute girls--”

“Sylvain, I don’t want to date women.”

Oh. Oh. Sylvain’s mouth shuts tight as he absorbs this information. This puts a lot of things into perspective; Felix’s disinterest in women and how he’d roll his eyes whenever Sylvain would talk about them. His lack of celebrity crushes and such. Felix has just never said it so bluntly.

“Felix, it’s totally cool if you’re gay. I know some cute guys--”

Felix lets out a frustrated groan, rubbing at his face. “Sylvain, I’m not-- that’s not-- That’s not it.”

“Felix, you have to throw me a bone here, what on earth are you talking about--”

“I like you, you absolute imbecile,” says Felix very suddenly. And loudly. Entirely red-faced with embarrassment as he digs a hand into the sand beside him. “And Ingrid’s known for years because Glenn fucking told her, and that’s why she’s been so incredibly insufferable this entire time--”

Sylvain bursts into laughter, which in retrospect, probably wasn’t the best reaction. “Wait, no, no, that’s not why I’m laughing,” he says when Felix starts to pull away. Felix pauses, looking at him with barely contained aggravation.

“This isn’t funny, Sylvain,” he says quietly.

“Ingrid’s making fun of both of us, so yeah, it kind of is.”

Felix blinks very slowly, his face contorting into supreme confusion.

Sylvain sighs, rubbing at his chin awkwardly. “So look, here’s the thing. The shitty dating’s always been to fill a void because I’ve always been afraid to like, date someone properly. No commitment is so much easier than actual commitment and--”

“Sylvain, what on earth are you blabbering about?” cuts in Felix impatiently.

“I like you too?” Sylvain doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding like a question, so he clears his throat and tries again. “What I mean to say is, I’ve always liked you, I guess, but I’ve never really noticed you and--”

When Felix laughs, it’s always a bitter-sounding thing which is why Sylvain never wants to hear it. Means he’s about to lose his shit. This time though, he’s chuckling softly, rubbing at his face tiredly. “Let me guess,” he says quietly, “Ingrid knows.”

Sylvain swallows thickly, sitting there awkwardly with sunscreen-covered hands. “She, uh, might.”

“So, I didn’t have to resort to this, then.”

Sylvain shoots him a confused look. “Resort to what?”

Felix sighs, pink-cheeked with embarrassment again. “Parading around without a shirt on. The whole sunscreen thing. Ingrid’s blasted idea, of course, and now I see why. Glenn agreed, saying you’re the type to be visually stimulated but because I didn’t think that you liked me--”

“Wait, wait, back up,” says Sylvain, trying to process everything that Felix is trying to say. “What do you mean Ingrid’s idea?”

Felix finally looks at Sylvain’s face, annoyed with the entire situation. “She was tired of me not saying anything and told me to do something about it. I said it wouldn’t matter, that you didn’t like me but--” He pauses and waves vaguely between them.

“She’s known that I’ve liked you for years,” finishes Sylvain quietly. “Oh, Goddess, I’m going to kill her.”

“Please don’t,” says Felix. “Because then Glenn would kill you and that would mean I’ve made an utter fool of myself for nothing.”

Sylvain looks at the sunscreen again. “Felix, I hope you realize, rubbing you down in this nearly ended me. Like, I won’t be able to move from this towel for at least ten minutes.”

At that, Felix smirks slightly, his mouth tipped up at one corner. “Well, I’m sure there are spots that you’ve missed.”

Sylvain groans at the idea.

“I’m joking,” says Felix quietly, reaching out to touch Sylvain’s shoulder, thumbing over it with uncertainty. “So what--”

“I mean, the answer’s yes, obviously.” Felix looks at him, his face carefully schooled into something bland. Obviously trying not to get his hopes up, so Sylvain continues. “I mean, I didn’t collapse onto Ingrid’s bathroom floor one night, wasted to only say no--”

“You what?”

“Okay, so forget about that--”

“So you were truly serious about liking me?” asks Felix, his voice cracking slightly.

Sylvain’s expression softens. “I mean, it’s never been so clear until today but--”

“Why today, of all days?”

Sylvain’s done a fantastic job of looking at only Felix’s face so far so he finally looks down, eyes sweeping over his chest. Sylvain swallows thickly. “I mean, look at you, you’re--”

“Save it for the women who warm your bed,” says Felix acerbically. He moves to get up properly and Sylvain reaches out to grab his wrist.

“Felix, wait, don’t do that.” Felix does. Waits for him to say his piece. “I’ve always liked you, but it never really clicked that you’re-- uh-- look, there’s no delicate way to say it, so I just will. You’re gorgeous. Handsome. I can’t stop looking at you because you make me feel things, and that’s something that’s just... Ingrid told me to take a fucking picture, Felix.”

Felix snorts at that, hiding a smile behind his hand. Then he plops back down to the sand.

“You realize that I expect to be more than a bed warmer,” says Felix finally, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’d never ask that of you,” says Sylvain, seriously. “Unless you wanted to, because trust me, I’m certainly not opposed--”

Felix reaches forward with lightning-fast speed, pulls open Sylvain’s swim trunks, and dumps a handful of sand directly into them. Sylvain looks down dumbly. Dreads the inevitable itchiness that comes with getting sand in the bits where you don’t want it.

“Okay, yeah, I deserved that.”

Felix hesitates and then says, “Insufferable.”

“Yeah,” says Sylvain in agreement.

“It’s part of your charm.”

Sylvain grins at him. “Oh, my charm? Does that mean that I won you over with my bewitching demeanor?”

Felix’s expression sours the slightest bit. “Don’t push it.”

It falls quiet between them, as they sit on the towel underneath Sylvain’s umbrella, but it’s a comfortable silence. Sylvain rubs the leftover sunscreen into his own shoulders as Felix tries not to stare in return.

“So,” says Sylvain finally. “Dinner on the pier maybe? Without Ingrid and Glenn, I mean.”

“Yes, nothing says fantastic first date like shoveling buttered crawfish into your mouth like a slob.” But Felix’s face is soft and fond when he looks at Sylvain, and Sylvain knows that it’s a date sealed for later that night.

Things are going to be weird, supposes Sylvain, but there are worse things. At least they’ll be figuring it out together.

“Who gets first dibs on dunking ice-cold seawater all over Ingrid?” asks Sylvain.

“I think that I can get Glenn to distract her long enough for you to fill the pail. Or, we can tag team her-- grab her and throw her in the ocean itself.”

That’s a better idea and Sylvain says as such, much to Felix’s entertainment. “Maybe we shouldn’t,” continues Sylvain. “We do owe her some credit.”

Felix snorts. “Are you going to give her the satisfaction of it?”

They both look at each other, then Sylvain says, “Absolutely not.” He pauses, reaching out to Felix, wanting to grab his hand and hold it. But he hesitates.

Felix sees and watches silently. “We’re dumb,” he finally says. “It’s taken us so long. We’re nearly done with college.”

“Yeah, well, late-bloomers and all that.”

“Sylvain, you’re the opposite of a late-bloomer.”

“Not where it counts.”

Felix sighs softly and reaches out, taking Sylvain’s hand, linking their fingers together. He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t have to. He and Sylvain have always been like that; silent in most of their communication because they just read each other so well.

Except for when it comes to their wants, apparently.

Still, better late than never supposes Sylvain when he squeezes Felix’s hand back.

[mommymooze]

Premonition

Since you were young you’ve dreamed of your death. You watch yourself being stabbed in your stomach. Your eyes follow the dagger coming for you. At first it is from your point of view. As you get older, you watch from the views of others watching your death. You don’t see your whole self nor your clothes. Just your skin, you know its your skin, your stomach, and the knife. Everything else is misty.

You sign up for the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach to learn how to defend yourself and fight bandits, useful as you come from a family of merchants in Conand territory.  You are welcomed into the Blue Lions, becoming good friends with everyone in the house. You love having professor Byleth as your teacher. Then the war begins, and everyone goes home. You reunite briefly with your parents. They are too old to fight, so they leave for Morfis or Almyra, somewhere not in the middle of a war. You take what they cannot sell, returning to the ruins of Garreg Mach, and descend into Abyss.

The Ashen Wolves are happy to have you. Yuri sells and trades the goods from your parents for essentials to keep Abyss fed and healthy. The Wolves are still fighting alongside the kingdom, having joined their house once they were discovered. Their war is underground and in the shadows. You frequently are out with one if not all of them running a covert operation to disrupt Imperial forces, stealing enemy supplies and generally make things difficult for Edelgard.  

Several times a month you dream of the dagger slicing into your stomach. The vision has changed since you were younger. You watch skin being sliced, the blood quickly flowing like a waterfall down your abdomen. You stand in the grass outside on an overcast day. You can identify the angle of the dagger. You think the wielder is right handed and aiming straight for your heart.

Yuri is contacted by a small band of fighters from Duscur. You assist sneaking them through the kingdom, helping to get them into the dungeons of Fhirdiad before the enemy can execute Dimitri. You escort them until they are out of the city. Dedue is hurt in the mission, you must leave before you know how serious his injuries were. Dimitri is in the worst shape of any of them, but his injuries aren’t all physical.

Yuri then sends you and Balthus out to Riegan territory to work with Claude on a mission. It is good to see the Deer’s leader and even better to hear that he feels he owes something to the kingdom.

You are sent on fighting missions, spying missions, covert missions, trading and food recovery operations. The imperials killed the local chicken farmer. You think it’s a terrible shame to leave all of those chickens to starve. Trying to hide from the Empire’s army in a heavily wooded forest with bags of noisy chickens is one of the more challenging recent jobs. It’s worth it. Abyss now has a chicken coop well below the cathedral, under the long high bridge. Bandits don’t make it down there frequently, so they have a good steady supply of eggs for feeding the residents.

Five years is a long time when you look back at it. This war seems to never end. There is always fighting, fires, thefts, murders. The borders of the countries on maps are blurred, constantly moving, yet not moving at all.

Yuri has the wolves +1 head topside. Today is the day of the Millennium festival. You run up a hill and are thrilled to see a mop of red hair coming into view as you maneuver over the rise. You run to stand alongside Felix and Sylvain just as they are being attacked by bandits. Everyone’s showing off their new skills, taking down enemies with ease. Quickly Annette and Mercedes join the group, Hapi bringing them into view. In a matter of minutes bandits are dead and the group is reunited. The most surprising detail is that Byleth is back! There are tears of joy and grateful sighs. Dimitri is there, but he’s doing worse than the last time you had seen him. He stomps off to the remains of the Cathedral. There is a huge presence missing as you all are still standing in the grass and weeds of the fields. Dedue has not returned.

 The Blue Lions make the monastery their base. They clean up and begin to rebuild Garreg Mach. As soon as the training grounds are functional, Felix is after you to spar with him. You always had a great time fighting with him. He was always serious, so intense. You had laughed at him then, always telling him to loosen up. Now honing your skills is absolutely necessary. There are no requests to go easy. Only to fight, to learn, to get better and be better than the next enemy that could stand before you.

Both of you have changed greatly over the time spent apart. You are both stronger, faster than you were so long ago. He looks more muscular than he was in the past. He’s also taller. As the fight continues his strikes are still strong, straight and true. Your strikes become more ruthless, fighting more with your survival instincts than beauty and finesse, just like your enemies have been fighting you for all these years.

Felix forces you backwards and you suddenly find yourself against a wall. His sword is at your throat.

“Hah.” You smirk, glancing to your left.

“Yield.” The master swordsman nearly spits, shoving the point of the sword into your chin.

You smack him on the shoulder with a ball of fire in your hand, flames flashing out in every direction, breaking his concentration. You then cast lightning at him, the shock of the electricity forcing him to let go of his sword. You hit him with mire just as he hits you with lightning, the force of the spells crashing and sending you both flying backwards a few feet, landing flat on your asses.

He looks angry enough to spit nails. You start to giggle then give a full hearty laugh. You smile because you haven’t laughed like that in a long time.

Begrudgingly he walks over and offers a hand to help you off the ground.

Just as you pick up your sword you hear the word that makes your heart leap.

“Again!”

  The day is overcast when the Empire attacks the monastery again. It is a difficult fight, so many are injured, however Byleth & Dimitri’s army is successful in defending the academy. Byleth’s presence makes a huge difference for everyone.

Your dreams are every 2 or 3 days now. They have transitioned again, becoming longer and more detailed. You can tell that there are two larger shapes around you. You see your hands reaching for your stomach, your fingers are already bruised and bloodied. It hurts, starting with a sting then feeling the blade go deeper and pain is completely washing over you. The pain is what wakes you. You cannot go back to sleep with this going on inside your head.

Dimitri is a mess holed up in the Cathedral, you decide go to visit him after your premonition.

“Have you come to stare and mock the beast?” The Prince growls.

“No. But quite often you refer to yourself as a dead man. I understand that. I will be dead soon too. I’ve always dreamed of my death. The older I get, the more frequently I dream of it. I’m getting close. Figured the dead should hang out together.”

“I need no others to die for me.” The giant man mumbles.

“I believe in what we are fighting for. I believed in your father. I wont haunt you Dimitri. If I get a choice to haunt anyone, I’ll go to Enbarr and torment Hubert and Edelgard.”

Dimitri doesn’t laugh. He only stands before you quietly as you get up to leave him. You recognize him as one of the figures in your dreams. Silently you remove yourself, walking aimlessly around the grounds.

 As per the orders of the War Council, everyone marches to Ailell to gain more troops. They are attacked by Gwendal, the Gray lion. Fighting in battles is hard enough, but when the ground is hot enough to cook a steak, it’s nearly impossible. Your sword feels like it is red hot through your gloves. Still you hold on to your weapon tightly, bringing the enemies to their knees. Rodrigue arrives just in time to assist in taking down Gwendal. The old knight looks relieved at finally finding death. The Duke and his additional troops are sorely needed and join Dimitri’s army. It takes days to get the smell of burnt flesh out of your nostrils.

 Everyone heads back to the monastery. You are walking among the wagons when Rodrigue rides by on his horse. You glance his way and nod. Then you stop. Looking at the Duke of Fraldarius, seeing his shadow revealed by the light of the setting sun, you recognize another shape from your dreams.

 You are up early every day now. Felix spars with you all morning. Sometimes you spar with him in the afternoon, or head to Abyss to work out with the Wolves. You become more restless with each passing day. If you can’t train with your sword you run, run until your lungs are on fire. Anything to keep yourself moving. You eat, you sleep, or at least try to. Sometimes you fall asleep while eating. Nobody really notices, it seems to be a common occurrence. The joys of war.

 The next battle is for the great bridge at Myrrdin over the Aramid river. Ladislava holds control of the bridge and taunts the Blue Lions. Dimitri is screaming for her head in addition to Edelgard’s. The fight has barely begun, you are in the back sending magic after enemy forces when the sound of heavy knights came from behind. You turn to see…Dedue!!! He runs up to Dimtiri, ready to fight for his side. The Blue Lions are extremely energized, they decimate the enemy troops on the bridge. Ladislava is defeated in record time. Everyone is overjoyed that they have cut off the Empire from obtaining any further supplies from the north. Most importantly, they are whole and happily celebrate Dedue’s return.

 Every night. Every freaking night the dreams are tormenting you. You dream of an overcast day. They are there, standing on the grass-- Dimitri, Rodrigue, and one other person in front of you. You are out of breath. The dagger appears, you reach for your stomach, a gash in your shirt, pulling at the dagger with your bruised and bloody hands, blood flowing out of you like a river. You scream…and wake up.

 You head to the training grounds to practice with Felix. He notices. Your swings are careless, ruthless, the look in your eyes is wild.

“Hey!” He grabs you by your collar, choking you slightly. “Don’t go full boar on me. We need you.”

You spit and stare at the ground. Taking a deep breath you finally answer, “Okay.”

You spar with him but hold yourself back. You need to keep yourself in control. It’s so difficult when the end is so near.

 You join Annette and Mercedes in the kitchens baking cookies. You pay way too much for spices for cookies, but it’s not like you need the money much longer. You leave a small box of the not too sweet, heavily spiced cookies at Felix’s door. You hand out a few cookies to each of the Blue Lions that you meet. You can’t forget your friends in Abyss and send a box of cookies their way as well.

Running to the Cathedral you see Dimitri standing at his pile of rubble. He even acknowledges your presence. You are grateful that Dedue and Rodrigue are here for him. You thank him for his leadership and for everything he has done for you and the Lions. You leave as suddenly as you appeared. He looks a bit confused.

Heading to the marketplace, you stop by the armorer and pick up your custom chainmail shirt. It is heavy and goes past your hips. You wear it under your tunic everywhere you go. You even start running with it on, it becomes your second skin.

 The army is on the march. They are prepared for the encounter with the Empire’s forces. They have good intel that the Alliance may be sending their army to meet with them as well. You hope that Dimitri and Claude can talk before so that they can work together to take down Edelgard, however the Alliance Lord has not responded to any of Byleth’s requests. You think that there is a spy that must have intercepted them. Claude would have joined you, you know that.

The army stops for a break. There is a large stream nearby and you bathe quickly to get some of the dirt and dust of the road removed. The call to resume marching is much too quick, you grab your clothes and struggle into them as you take your place in the procession.

The three armies converge on a single point. How appropriate that it should be Gronder Field. Just as you are heading to take your position, you realize something is missing. Your vest is hanging on a branch back at the stream. You remind yourself to pick it up on the way back.

The horns of battle sound and you are running towards the enemy, teeth gritted and sword at the ready. The Empire’s soldiers are getting closer by the second. The battle is a blur. You take out enemy soldiers left and right with the flash of your blade. If you can’t cut through their armor, you cook them inside it with fire or electrocute them with lightning. You are part of the main surge of fighters, creeping closer and closer to Edelgard. You hear Dimitri screaming for his revenge. To help him you fire spells at Hubert while stabbing Empire fighters, hoping that your spells can break his concentration away from defending the Emperor.

Dimitri screams as Edelgard retreats, Hubert warping the pair of them away. There are still a few Empire soldiers and you strike them with lightning. Rodrigue rides up to the Prince, dismounting so he can check his wounds. Just as Rodrigue stands next to Dimitri, you look to the right and a young girl is screaming and breaking free from a kingdom knight. She runs towards the two men, screaming about getting even and revenge. Your feet are moving before your mind can catch up, you can’t let her get to them. She sounds insane with rage, demanding revenge for her brother’s death. You drop your weapons to help you gain more speed, she is pulling out a dagger. You’re not sure if she is targeting the prince or the duke. She takes a swing at Rodrigue, slicing into his coat, then pulling her weapon back again to thrust it into his side. You are there, putting yourself between the dark haired man and the ruthless girl. You are grabbing at the weapon, however her deathgrip on the dagger doesn’t loosen, she’s going to kill someone, anyone and she thrusts the dagger into you.  Dimitri quickly reacts, bringing Ahredbahr down upon the enraged girl, ending her life.

You reach for the blade with your already bloody hands having fought all day in the battle, you are trying to remove the knif, your fingers slick with your own blood flowing out from your side like a river. You suddenly feel too weak to pull it out. Your legs are giving out underneath you. You feel your body falling. Dimitri and Rodrigue are yelling. There is so much noise, then the buzzing in your ears takes over, the darkness begins to cloud your vision, you recall only a little light in the center showing Rodrigue’s pleading face before everything is black.

 You open your eyes but they do not want to focus. You lift your head and it falls back to the pillow, being overcome with dizzyness. There are a multitude of voices, some are shouting, all of them speaking all at once. You want to cover your head and make it all go away, its too much. You lift your hands but they are so weak you drop them. You welcome the darkness as it takes you in.

 Things are quieter now. A woman’s voice softly speaks. “Are you awake dear. Nod for yes.”

You pull your chin down, you can’t lift your head much, you feel so incredibly weak. You want to open your eyes but that feels impossibly difficult.

The voice says we’re going to prop you up so you can drink something. It will make you feel better.

Hands from both sides lift your shoulders to tuck a pillow beneath you and then under your head. You grimace at the pain but it stops quickly. You feel a small bottle brought to your lips. You take a little sip, your mouth is so dry it feels cool and wet.

She is telling you to swallow. Ohh, cool on your throat. You open your mouth for more.  They let you have a few more sips.

You fall back into a deep sleep.

You waken the next morning hearing the deep voice of Rodrigue advising the healers that you are awake.

“It is good to see that you are still with us.” The Duke smiles.

“How.. how am I not dead?” You gasp, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Since she was prevented from killing me, I was able to heal you. I am a Holy Knight of the Kingdom you know. I was able to heal you, stopping your bleeding as quickly as I could. We then brought you back here. I will notify Dimitri of your recovery, he will be most pleased.

“Thank you for saving me.” You whisper.

“It is I who must thank you. If it wasn’t for your quick intervention, I would not be here.” Duke Fraldarius smiles widely at you.

The clerics check you over, allowing you to sit up. Eventually you feel well enough to clean up and even have visitors.

One by one the lions come to visit. A pile of gifts and flowers begins to accumulate on the table next to the bed.

Felix arrives and shoos everyone away bringing you dinner, which is thin oatmeal. Bestest oatmeal you have had in a long time. While you eat Felix stays to keep you company.

“Oh. I talked to my old man.” Felix says as he fiddles with a piece of loose leather on a belt. “We’re going to try to talk to each other more. That’s a start right?” He asks as he looks at you.

“That’s great. I think you guys are lucky to get a second chance. Not that things will be perfect, but better.”  You say as you finish your dinner.

“Have you had that weird dream any more?” The swordsman wonders out loud.

You think, “No. It was every single day and now nothing. I thought for sure it was my death.” Your voice trails off.

“Maybe you get a second chance too.” Felix almost smiles as he takes your empty bowl away.

[xofoldedpages]

Forgive me for being absolute trash for Sylvain, but could you do something with "I trusted you" or "The worst part is, I loved you anyway" or both from the 45 OTP Angst Prompts ^^" up to you! I'm just in the mood to be crushed by Sylvain tonight LMAO

45 OTP Angst Prompt found HEREOH OKAY.So you wanna do this to me huh?  Leave me crying here like a lil baby ??I changed up the second line just a little, but enjoy being heartbroken, thanks.

Sylvain Jose Gautier: a name you unintentionally familiarized yourself with upon acceptance to the Officer’s Academy. All of your female friends warned you about him; they claimed he was the resident skirt chaser. And you? You were gorgeous, and he was bound to set his eyes on you. Their opinions left a bitter taste in your mouth. But, of course, they were correct.

Two days after classes began, a certain redheaded boy approached you, but you were prepared. You brushed off his compliments with ease. After all, they lacked any real substance to them. But somehow, over time, Sylvain began to break down your walls. Little did you know, you were also breaking down his.

One day, he came to you a mumbling mess. Between the mumbles, you were able to decipher he wanted to study together.

“Oh?” You mused. “Yeah, we can study together. Did you want to come to my dorm after class?”

In an instant, Sylvain’s skin flushed, and his face was brighter than his hair. Your suggestion was innocent, though. There was a clear no-talking rule in the library, but none of the students followed this rule, and it was loosely enforced. You needed a quiet space to study, and you were comfortable in your own area. Sylvain eagerly nodded his head to the suggestion, and much to your surprise, he actually studied that night.

Between chapters, the two of you divulged information to each other that no one else knew, and you began to see Sylvain in a different light. Maybe he wasn’t just the resident skirt-chaser; perhaps he was genuine. The two of you started to spend more time together, and you weren’t sure when it happened, but you fell for Sylvain.

It wasn’t a hard fall, and there wasn’t a specific moment you could recall that made you say, “yeah, I love that guy.” Things just happened naturally. You found yourself intoxicated by his mere presence, and you two spent every moment you could together.

Sylvain had invited you to sit with him underneath a tree on an unusually warm morning before class. He inquired about your week, your schedules having kept you apart for most of it. You began to tell him about something that piqued your interest in the class. Excitement poured into your words, and your face lit up as you spoke. Sylvain, unable to contain himself, kissed you midsentence.

It was the first kiss you shared together.

Caught off guard, you did not know how to respond. His lips were hesitant at first, but when you finally relaxed and melted into his arms, he kissed you with such urgency that stole the oxygen right out of your lungs.

Goddess, you loved this man, but your friends always warned you not to get attached. If you did, you would surely get hurt. So, you tried to detach yourself from those feelings you had for Sylvain. When girls would approach him, you would look the other way, lying to yourself that you didn’t care.

Little did you know, he gradually put an end to his flirting. You, however, were too busy trying to ignore Sylvain around these girls that you failed to see he was always the one being approached.

Still, your schedules kept the two of you busy, and you weren’t able to see Sylvain as much as you wanted. When you two were able to meet, he always greeted you with a kiss that halted the world around you. You had to protect yourself, though. After every kiss you two shared, you reminded yourself that you weren’t special and that he was doing this with every girl. You tried so hard, in the beginning, to be different, and yet you became what you fought so hard to avoid.

You proceeded to plague your mind with thoughts about Sylvain not genuinely caring about you, so when Claude kissed you in the middle of the Entrance Hall, you kissed him back. You loved Sylvain, but you kissed Claude back. You kissed him back because Sylvain was kissing other girls, too. The kiss you shared with Claude was ordinary. It didn’t leave you breathless or wanting more, and it only made you realize that you yearned for Sylvain to love you as much as you loved him.

“Wow,” The single word echoed through the hall.

“Sylvain?” You whisked around just in time to see him exiting the room. Without thinking, you followed him outside.

“Sylvain, wait,” After speeding up, you were finally able to catch up to him. You had a strange urge to explain yourself to him. You reached out your hand and grasped his wrist, begging him to stop. “Claude, he kissed me.”

Sylvain swept your hand away, suddenly turning so he could face you directly.

“Yeah? That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing.”

He looked away from you, an ironic smile plastered on his face. Not knowing how to respond to this feeling of jealousy, he let out a low and haunting chuckle.

“The funny thing is,” He paused, running his fingers through his red hair, “I trusted you.”

Those three words stole your breath, and you suddenly couldn’t breathe. Sylvain always knew how to leave you breathless.

“The worst part is, I still love you, anyway.”

A part of you always wanted to hear those words come out of his mouth, but not like this.

You stood there, stunned into silence until something began to bubble in the pit of your stomach.

“How can you get mad at me? I had to watch you flirt with other girls all the time,” You stood your ground, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Yeah? Is that what you think of me? Some idiot who can’t stop flirting with girls?”

He pressed his lips together, his head shaking.

“You were enough for me, but apparently I wasn’t enough for you.”

His words sunk deep into your bones, and you could feel grief settling into your skeleton.

“Just,” Sylvain sighed, unable to find the right words. “Just forget it, okay? Just forget I said anything and leave me alone.”

And with that, he left you standing alone. The next few days you tried reaching out to Sylvain, but he refused to listen. Weeks later, as you rounded a corner, you spotted him with another girl, and your heart quickly settled into the pit of your stomach.

You still loved him.

[fehspinning]

The Sylvain Method - A Dimitri/Alfonse fic

   Dimitri looks down at the small box wrapped with ribbon that he carries; the doubt demanding to make its presence felt once more. Is it too forward? Is it out of line to give Alfonse a gift like this?

   The anxiety he feels tenses his body; thankfully he realizes it just as he begins to squeeze the box in his hand. Dimitri knows almost all there is to know about martial combat; he knows about politics, war and battle but when it comes to matters of the heart though he is at a loss.

   The one time he attempted to gift someone he liked with a token of affection things...did not go so well. Does he really want to risk soliciting the same reaction from Alfonse?

   Oh if he had only listened to Sylvain more! A thought Dimitri never expected himself to have. Yet if he is to be honest with himself while Sylvain always went to excess in the end the noble did possession a selection of skills and charms when it came to endeavors of the heart.

   Thinking on his friend gives the Prince of Faerghus an idea, an absolutely wondrous idea that may have his endeavor go well yet. Sylvain may not be here but he has had many conversations with him, and watched the lady's man ply his craft countless times. If he just draws on what he remembers; do the type of things, say the type of things Sylvain would then there is no way things can go wrong.

   Alfonse turns the corner ahead, the Askr prince has a meeting today with some scholars about new lore discovered regarding the latest threat to the Kingdom. Upon seeing Dimitri Alfonse smiles brightly and Dimitri can feel the strength leave his knees. No one has ever had such an effect on Dimitri before and hopefully he will never have to risk finding out if someone else can make him feel that way again.

   “Alfonse...I know you have a meeting but do you have a minute?”

   Alfonse nods and can't help but feel a bit of concern. His normally stoic prince looks worried, or concerned about something. “What is it? What's wrong?”

   Dimitri shakes his head; “Nothing, I just got you a gift and couldn't wait to give it to you.”

   “Oh OK.” The smile returns, Alfonse doesn't understand why Dimitri seems so out of sorts compared to how he usually is in public but as long as nothing is wrong there is no need to push.

   Dimitri offers Alfonse a box, a simple box about the size of Dimitri's palm wrapped in some rather fancy ribbon.

   Taking it gingerly Alfonse unwraps the gift revealing what appears to be a piece of jewelry; a golden lion's head. He pulls it out, a blue ribbon unfurls under the lion's head with a crest marked upon it that he's never seen in Askr. Nor has he seen it among the wide variety of crests he's encountered among the ranks of the Order of Heroes.

   “It's the crest of my kingdom, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.” Dimitri smiles; while he isn't homesick anymore there is a certain comfort in seeing the symbol.

   “The craftsmanship, it's incredible.” Alfonse can't take his eyes off the piece. Whoever did the gold-smithing put in a level of detail Askr crafters seldom succeed at.

   “May I?”

   Confused Alfonse nods and doesn't move or react to Dimitri taking the brooch and fastening to Alfonse's shirt on the opposite side of the Askr brooch. “I asked around, it took some doing especially to keep it secret from anyone who might spoil the surprise but I wanted you to have a way to know, during those rare times that I am not at your side, that I am with you still even if in spirit.”

   Alfonse just stares at the lion head brooch not saying anything; his face not seeming to be able to settle on any one emotion. Dimitri wilts, it's the dagger all over again. He's just so bad at this how can he save this situation? Without thinking he says the first thing that comes to mind that he believes Sylvain would say; “And it'll be a reminder for me too!”

   What was that? It takes all over Dimitri's military discipline to not groan turn and run away from this every growing mess.

   The comment does seem to have confused Alfonse; while he may not have been able to choose a single emotion for Dimitri's gift Dimitri can easily read the feeling that Alfonse is wearing now; confusion. “Remind you? Is there a chance you will forget?”

   Will Dimitri know that Alfonse is making a joke? Between Alfonse not being very experienced at making jokes or romance, and Dimitri taking things very literally Alfonse can't help but be nervous that he may have unintentionally insulted his love. Given the panicked look in Dimitri's eyes Alfonse can't do anything but assume the worst.

   Dimitri doesn't know what Sylvain would say, he can't remember anything at the moment regarding his friend or anything. He's screwed up and now he doesn't know how to fix it. He knows he needs to respond, Alfonse will expect him to respond and if he takes too long then maybe Alfonse will find him too awkward. Words start coming out before he thinks on what they will be. “No, but that doesn't mean I still won't appreciate the reminder!”

   Alfonse blushes and looks away, the same way that the girls would when Sylvain gave them one of his lines. Dimitri's heart skips beats, he did it! He saved the situation and has triumphed; in his head he can even hear Sylvain congratulating him for coming up with such a clever line.

    His cheeks burn with embarrassment, and he is having trouble looking directly at Dimitri. What Dimitri nor Sylvain know is that more often than not, this is the same reaction Sylvain’s lines encourage.

   Alfonse doesn't know what type of response he was expecting to his comment but it wasn't that. That was so corny, yet it also made Alfonse feel even more special; the whole thing was so confusing but Dimitri seems so happy with himself. The line may have been rather awkward but to see a genuine, boisterous smile on the lips of his blonde prince can't help but cause Alfonse's embarrassment to numb.

   He raises his head so he can look Dimitri eye to eye, goes to speak but is caught off guard once more by Dimitri who has leaned in, pulling Alfonse close giving him in a rather extended kiss.

   Alfonse melts in Dimitri's arms as he always does.

   Meanwhile somewhere at the back of his mind Dimitri can hear Sylvain voicing his approval not only for Dimitri's pursuit of love but the methods he's using to win the other prince over.

[allie-writes]

Word of Mouth

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None apply Category: Gen Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Ashe Ubert (implied), Sylvain Jose Gautier/Felix Hugo Fraldarius (implied) Word count: 1866 Language: English Read on: Fanfiction.net | AO3

Ingrid, Sylvain, and rumours.

Ingrid sits with her back exemplarily straight, her prim posture at odds with the grime in her hair and the stains on her clothes. That much is almost nostalgic—Sylvain vaguely remembers the Ingrid of his youth being constantly covered in more filth than the rest of them combined, and terribly proud of the fact as well.

 “I’m honoured you’d think to stop by here, honestly,” he tells her, pouring a generous shot of brandy for Ingrid before putting the stopper back on the carafe.

 “You know I try to visit whenever I can find the time,” she replies in that fondly chiding tone Sylvain misses sometimes and leans back into the plush pillows of the lounge chaise she is occupying.

 Sylvain walks over to her and offers her the drink. Ingrid’s small smile is grateful as she accepts it. “I take it the knightly life is still doing it for you, then?” he asks.

 “Of course it is.”

 It’s easy to tell just by her expression, if Sylvain is being honest. She seems awfully comfortable in her skin nowadays, like she’s found the place she’d always been meant to be. Looking at her makes something terribly warm bubble up in the pit of his stomach.

 A log cracks in the fireplace; the salon is almost stiflingly warm. Still, Sylvain sits right next to Ingrid, leg up in her space as if he was twenty again and trying to get a rise out of her. She seems entirely unfazed now, and it’s a bit disappointing. “And you? Are you doing well, Margrave?”

 Sylvain snorts a little laugh at the title. “Oh yeah, all that official business is absolutely riveting,” he replies. “As you can imagine.”

 Ingrid rolls her eyes with a smile and takes a sip from her drink. “If there wasn’t more to your life, I’m pretty sure you would have gone insane by now,” she says, gently knocking her knee into Sylvain’s thigh.

 “Totally. Securing the border is a real blast.”

 This actually earns him a shove. “Oh, come now!” Ingrid scoffs. “I know for a fact you’ve been to Fhirdiad a few times over the past year!”

 “Then why do you ask?”

 She sighs. “I want to know how you are holding up, not what you’ve been doing, Sylvain.”

 It’s curious how much his name can sound like a mild insult, coming from Ingrid. He feels a bit dense, anyway. “I’m alright, really. Better, now that I got to see my dear friend Ingrid again, of course.”

 “We missed each other, the last time you came to Fhirdiad,” she replies, almost bashfully. She swivels her glass and watches the brandy lap at the walls. “It’s a shame, really. It was only for a supply-run, and yet I couldn’t be there.”

 Sylvain considers throwing an arm around her shoulders for a second or two but ultimately thinks better of it. Instead, he makes sure his words come out in the worst drawl he can manage. “If you started slacking on your duties to see me, I’d tell His Majesty that you’ve been kidnapped and replaced by an impostor.”

 Ingrid huffs, pretends not to smile, and leans into Sylvain’s side. It’s unlike her; she must really have missed him. “Thank Sothis that’s not the case, then,” she says, grinning fifteen years younger than her current age.

 She’s shockingly pretty like this, and some impulse born out of a bad old habit compels Sylvain to sling that arm around her after all. “I talked to Ashe. Did he tell you?” he asks, and feels rather than sees Ingrid nod.

 “He didn’t tell me what about, though. So, what did you talk about?”

 “Oh, you know, all the fun things Ashe likes. Knightliness, chivalry, politics, books... girls.” That earns Sylvain an elbow in the ribs. He laughs in order to hide the wince. “Really!” he insists.

 “I kind of have an inkling that you were to one to start with that topic,” Ingrid replies, and Sylvain can’t see it, but he could swear she’s battling a smile in that exasperated way of hers.

 “Well, we did talk about you.”

 “O-oh,” she mutters. That, apparently, makes more sense in her book. “Well, I hope he only had good things to say.”

 Sylvain hums. “I don’t think Ashe could badmouth anyone if he tried.”

 That earns him a laugh. “I agree,” Ingrid says and leans forward, twisting in her seat to meet Sylvain’s eye. There’s something mischievous to her expression. She puts her glass down before she continues, “And did you glean anything worthwhile from what he said?”

 “Except for the fact that you’re the most exemplary knight serving under His Majesty, a beacon of bravery, chivalry, all that is good and that you’re an inspiration to all? Not really.”

 Ingrid flushes and averts her eyes. “Coming from him,” she mumbles, more to herself than anything. She wets her lips and glances back towards Sylvain. “Nothing else, apart from that?”

 “What do you want me to say?” Sylvain asks. “That he told me something embarrassing? That he decided to tell me he was madly in love with you?”

 Swallowing, Ingrid stares off into the fireplace. She seems to be debating whether she should go on before she says, “Well, there are rumours about that.”

 She’s still leaning forward, and the distance between them suddenly feels like a mile. “There’s always rumours,” Sylvain replies. A hollow feeling settles into the pit of his stomach. He gathers his hands into his lap. “But it’s just people talking.”

 The gaze Ingrid fixes him with is downright painful. “That’s easy for you to say.”

 Which is—fair, Sylvain concedes. He’d used gossip and rumours to cultivate an image for the longest time. Something shallow, something dumb, something of a whore, something that was one hell of a lot easier to explain than the mess buried underneath.

 But still.

 “Are they true, then?” he asks, maybe to be a bit cruel. “Are you and Ashe—“

 “No, we’re not,” Ingrid says firmly, brows knitted together. Her eyebrows have always been much darker than her hair. Right now, they look ugly. “It’s none of your business, anyways.”

 The air between them stills. Ingrid’s shoulders are tense, her mouth in a severe frown. Sylvain regards Ingrid calmly, just watching her breathe until the crease in her brow eventually smoothes out.

 “I didn’t think it would get to me like this,” she admits, apologising after a fashion, as the tension is drained from her system. “People talking behind my back, more concerned about whether I am courting someone than my accomplishments...”

 There’s a glassy quality to her eyes as she stares off into the middle distance, voice shaky and frail. She feels tiny next to Sylvain, suddenly, and he’s acutely aware of where he misstepped. “See, Ingrid, that’s why all I do is try talking to Sreng without getting stabbed and visiting the capital every few months,” Sylvain says, forcing a lightness he doesn’t feel. But it gets Ingrid to snort a laugh and look at him again—forest green and fond—and it feels like a win.

 “Here I am, working every day of my life,” she says, her lips quirked into a smile, “only for the esteemed Margrave to earn more praises than I for botching diplomacy and being lazy.”

 Sylvain puts a hand to his chest, gasping. At the gesture, Ingrid snorts again. “You wound me! I don’t botch diplomacy. I’m just that charming.”

 She grins now, resting her elbow on the chaise’s armrest to prop her head up on her hand like some religious painting. “You know, I’m kind of surprised I don’t have to clean up after your scandals anymore.”

 “Should I break a maiden’s heart for old times’ sake, then?” Sylvain offers, only for Ingrid to roll her eyes. “Anything for you, you know.”

 “I don’t think I’ll ever hold ‘consoling crying village girls’ in fond memory,” she replies drily.

 Sylvain slides down in his seat, picking up Ingrid’s abandoned brandy and taking a swig of it. Her whole face scrunches up in disdain. “Fair enough,” he replies, licking his lips. “Doesn’t the rumour mill of Fhirdiad have some choice opinions on me?”

 “You know I don’t care for gossip.” She tries to sound blasé, but Ingrid has never been good at lying or hiding things, earnest as she is. “You probably know more than I do.”

 “Really,” Sylvain says, flatly. “C’mon, Ingrid, you know I’m used to worse. You don’t have to coddle me.”

 She sighs, seemingly relenting. “How’s Felix doing, Sylvain?” she asks, though, slow and deliberate and pregnant with meaning and—

 “Oh,” Sylvain breathes before he can catch himself, probably—tellingly—flushing all the way up to his hairline. Ingrid’s brows shoot up in surprise, eyes wide as dinner plates. Sylvain looks anywhere but her and slaps on a smile that fools exactly no one. “Oh, I haven’t heard from him in a while. Maybe you should pay him a visit on your way back, too,” he blathers, shooting for normalcy, really, but his voice comes out strained.

 “Y-yes, that’s a good idea!” Ingrid agrees, equally as flustered.

 A beat, then.

 “Maybe don’t share your gossip with him, though,” Sylvain suggests, “Goddess knows it might upset him.”

 There’s a very clear admission between the lines here. Ingrid plucks the brandy out of Sylvain’s grasp and downs the entire rest in one go. “I won’t,” she says, slamming the empty glass down on the coffee table. “He doesn’t care for it, anyways.”

 “I’m sure he’d listen if you decided to tell him that you and Ashe—“

 “For Sothis’ sake Sylvain, let it go!” she scolds, swatting at his arm. She looks pinker in the face now, and Sylvain has a hard time deciding whether it’s from the brandy or something else. “I was being delicate, and yet you—“

 “I know, I know. I’m impossible, nay, incorrigible.”

 Ingrid huffs and crosses her arms, yet seems satisfied with that answer. “As long as you know it,” she says, not without humour, and stands up. She offers Sylvain a hand to pull him to his feet as well, smiling something pretty and lopsided. “I think we should turn in for the night.”

 Sylvain closes his hand around Ingrid’s wrists before he finds himself dragged up way too easily considering Ingrid is a whole head shorter. “Maybe we should,” he agrees, so of course, neither of them moves.

 Ingrid sighs, looking up at Sylvain. “Don’t let what others say get to you,” she says, only two decades late. Then, more quietly, “I know rumours are worse when they’re based on some semblance of the truth.”

 “Ingrid,” Sylvain exhales, and has to shake his head to prevent himself from shoving his foot in his mouth. That’s all she’s going to tell him, and that’s fine. He smiles at her. “I’m sure they’ll be done preparing a room for you by now.”

 “Then we should be going.” Ingrid gallantly offers Sylvain her arm, and he loops his own through it with exaggerated words of thanks.  She smiles mischievously, then. “Can’t have any rumours spreading about us, after all,” she says, and Sylvain can’t help but laugh.

[gallantgautier]

Unsaid, pt.1

((ooc: A drabble I promised Rai regarding how Sylvain went from “he’s my friend” to “oheck I have a crush” to the almost quiet resolve his feelings eventually become. Only I still have 5 years to traverse and it ended up 1k+ so it’s gunna be a series I guess???))

 Sylvain doesn’t say everything he thinks, so, he writes. He writes letters he never intends to send.

Great Tree Moon – xx – 1180

Hey buddy,

You know, it probably wasn’t much of a reunion, was it? I was my usual annoying self. You were, well, you. I know I make fun of you for it, but really, I kinda appreciate it.

Sorry I haven’t changed. I guess you hadn’t expected me to, you didn’t look any more exasperated than normal, so I’ll take that as a win.

Anyway, all I wanted to say was that it’s good to see you again.

See you in class,

-S.

 Harpstring Moon – xx – 1180

Hey,

You know, it’s probably a good thing that I have absolutely no intention of ever sending any of these, this one is going to confuse the shit out of you.

Met a new guy, caught me playing the piano, went about as well as I could have expected I guess, which is not well at all. Thinks I’m good at it, would rather he didn’t, even if it’s true. And then Mercedes found out, but I think she’ll keep it secret. Pretty sure she will.

I promise I’ll play for you one day, I told myself I wouldn’t until I got really good. It’s a long way off though.

Dunno why I’m telling you all this, just feels kinda right, y’know?

Heh, who am I kidding?

See you in class,

-S.

 Garland Moon – xx – 1180

‘Sup?

You know, it really was pretty surprising to see that you’re gunna enter that costume contest. I know I dared you and all, but you know me and being serious? Never happens. Didn’t think you’d rise to it.

I’m actually really glad you did though.

Really, I mean it. Helping you out, even if it’s just making a dumb costume, it kind of reminded me of old times, y’know? Remember when we used to play knights, and Ingrid refused to be the princess, so I had to, even if I wasn’t happy about it because I wanted to be the dragon. But you’d always be the one ‘rescuing’ me so… Guess I didn’t mind all that much.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I had fun today. Kinda wish we could just hang out more.

I’ll be cheering you on when the judging starts.

-S.

p.s. The braids suit you.

 Verdant Rain Moon – xx – 1180

Miklan,

I thought I hated you. I told everyone I hated you. You were awful. You tried to kill me, repeatedly. I was just a kid Miklan, I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask to be born. Who does that? Who tries to kill a kid? Their own little brother?

I used to think I wished Glenn was my brother instead. He never hurt Felix, didn’t throw him down wells, leave him on mountains, come at him with knives, look at him as less than dirt under his shoes. I used to wish you were Glenn.

Mostly, I wish I could have helped you. Maybe if I could, you would have loved me back.

I don’t hate you.

I’m sorry.

-Sylvain.

 ------ Moon – xx – 1180

Hi pal,

This is probably the weirdest one of these that I’m ever going to write, but I just gotta ask. Have you… Changed something lately? Are you doing your hair differently? Not super different, it still looked the same but, maybe you’re using a new method?

Or, maybe you started wearing cologne?

I dunno man, something is different about you. I can’t put my finger on it, and it’s weirding me out.

It’s kinda distracting.

Quit it.

-S.

 ------ Moon – xx – 1180

Dear Mercedes

Thanks for listening to me today, Goddess, I was a mess. I’m not sure if you’re right exactly, but talking about it helped. I swear, you must have been a saint in a past life.

I owe you about twelves pastries. They’ll have to be bought though; I have no idea how to make them. Maybe you can teach me someday?

…Savoury ones? Maybe we can make them spicy. I think he

Fuck. You’re right.

Fuck.

 ------ Moon – xx – 1180

Felix,

Sorry I ran out during training. I know I got all weird. Won’t happen again. Promise.

-Sylvain.

 ------ Moon – xx – 1180

Felix,

It happened again. Well, I guess if I’m gunna break any promises to you, at least it’s one you don’t know about.

-Sylvain.

 ------ Moon – xx – 1180

Dear Mercedes,

I need your help. I can’t keep going on like this. There has to be some way to just forget about all these stupid feelings, right? I mean, at worst, they’re a liability. If I keep getting distracted this badly, it’s only a matter of time until it happens during something important. What if someone gets hurt because I’m too caught up in being a moron to help them?

Ah nevermind. I know what you’ll say. And you’re right, I know you’re right.

But it scares me.

-Sylvain.

 ------ Moon – xx – 1180

Felix,

I should have been there. I should have helped.

You’ve got to wake up. Don’t leave me. Don’t go where I can’t follow.

You promised.

-Sylvain.

------ Moon – xx – 1180

Hey Fe,

Sorry if this one is a mess, it’s hard to write neatly after only… Actually, I have no idea how much I slept over the last few days. Not much. Don’t yell at me for it, I needed to be there when you woke up. I’m glad I was.

I’m sorry I yelled, but I’ve never been more terrified in my life. I’m really, really glad you’ll be okay. I wanted to stay, but Manuela wouldn’t let me.

I thought I lost you buddy, I even prayed. Yeah, me, praying. Who would have thought?

I can’t remember who said it, but someone did; ‘you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.’ They neglected to mention that you notice it when it’s almost gone too. You were almost gone Felix, I thought-

I’ve never seen you so still, I’ve never-                                                                                -I don’t know what I would have done if-

Dammit, sorry, I thought I’d be okay.

Don’t ever do that to me again Felix, promise me that you’ll-                                                         -promise me that-                                                            -we sti-         -until we-                   -gether. Promise me.

I think… I think I-

I know that doesn’t mean much from me, since I’ve said it to so many other people.

But I really think I do. Maybe.

Is this what it actually feels like?

Kinda hurts. Not sure I like it.

You’re probably asleep right now. I hope you’re comfortable. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much. I hope-

Sleep tight.

Yours, always.

-Sylvain.

 (Much of the ink on this parchment is illegible, patches suggesting moisture damage is responsible.)