#sorry not sorry for demeaning his character
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squibsformers · 2 days ago
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Miscommunication
Rodimus x Human Reader, Drift x Ratchet x Human Reader
Summary: After Rodimus tried looping you into something you really weren't into, you sought out your other partners to complain about his reveal of character.
Word Count: 1,128
AN: NSFW suggestive talk, no outright smut. Also hi this is my first tf writing soooo lmk what your thoughts are, i love comments. I'm already working on a reader insert series and wanted to start with a few one off bits. Enjoy! tagging valveplug just in case.
Drift looked up when you entered the medbay, his greeting dying on his glossa as his field just PINGED with the waves of displeasure coming off you.
“Jeez… what's got you all wound up, huh?” He straightened his backstuts as he stood up more from the desk he leaned over, messing with Ratchet temporarily set aside.
You hissed a rush of words under your breath as you strutted in, something that he couldn't TELL what was said but he understood it wasn't very polite. Even the older medic bot lifted his head to address you.
“I only managed to make out Rodimus in all that. What did our oh so brilliant captain do to piss you off?”
 “I thought this whole time we were leading up to something… fun. But it turns out I misread every step. He thinks he's BETTER than me.”
“He's the captain, he is better than you.”
You whipped your head around to glare at Ratchet. “Better enough that I deserve to clean the dirt off his kibble with my tongue?? Because I feel that's pretty fucking degrading.”
Both bots stilled, and the medic's “Wait, what-” was interrupted by Drift stalling briefly and talking over him. “That doesn't sound at ALL like something Roddy would say.”
“I thought so, too.” You huffed before your attitude melted into something a bit sadder. “I mean… I've been flirting with him for so long, and he's been receptive towards it. You even told me he said he likes me. So I don't know where this came from…” 
Groaning, you put your face in your hands, and idly Ratchet patted your back while working (and half listening). 
“I didn't even think that would be a thing with you guys, making someone tongue-polish your like, plating and stuff.”
“That sounds like something Megatron would have had Starscream do back in the day,” Ratchet groused, making Drift mock gagging.
“I'm going to purge my tank, don't make me think about those two like that.” A shudder wracked the ex ‘con's frame. “Eugh. No it's not really a thing with us. Is…is it a human thing?”
“Ah…” The question made you pause to think. “Not… really? I mean, kind of. It's usually an extremely exaggerated form of punishment from someone who wants to uh… show superiority while demeaning the other. Though it's shoes or boots for us, not armor spikes. The idea is to polish the dirtiest article of clothing with their tongue - or glossa - so they feel... sub-human. Though there's always exceptions, and some people are into that kinda thing as like, a kink? But it's really not…what I'm looking for.” You wince.
….Ratchet paused his comforting as he listened, before turning to look you over. “Hold on, back up. Armor spikes… kid, what did Rodimus say to you?”
Drift leaned over the autobot's shoulder, studying you closely. The samurai looked both confused…and disbelieving.
Alright, fine then.
“He said ‘Y’know… Maybe you can put that glossa of yours to use and… clean my spikes with it.’” They let out a grumble. “I didn't peg him for the degrading type…”
The two mechs went oddly quiet and still.
“Spikes… plural?” Drift pressed.
You thought back more, mulling the memory over, of the captain of the Lost Light leering down at you with that heated smirk and his thumb on your cheek…and shook your head.
“No, sorry. Just spike.”
“PFFT-”
You looked up to see Drift looking away, one of his servos clamped over his intake as he cackled. His limbs shook and he held onto Ratchet to steady himself. The medic was looking away, face buried in his hands. His shoulders shook.
He was also laughing at you.
“What. WHAT! HEY?? HELLO!!”
“Kid…Kid, Sp..spike is another term we have for plug.” Ratchet mumbled out. Still laughing. Very much laughing at you. His words caused Drift to wheeze and bend over, his vents stuttering as he cackled.
“He was asking you to interface finally and you totally missed it..!! Oh Primus help me, what did you say? What did you say, tell me. Please, it has to be good.”
Your face got warm as you thought of the fact that you had finally gotten Rodimus interested enough he would make a bold pass. Your face was hot when you realized you had totally missed his signals. Your face was practically on fire when it clicked just how badly you fumbled the whole interaction.
“I… I said Ew, no thanks. And came here-”
“THAAAAHAHAATS THE WORST THING YOU C-COOOHOULD HAVE SAID!!! AAAHAHAGHA OH PRIMUS-”
“Frag me, kid you did not-”
There was no saving you. Both mechs were now openly laughing at your misery. Your face buried in your hands you mumbled out a weak “How was I supposed to know!” that only made Drift start losing it all over again.
After some time (Ten. Minutes.) the two much larger beings had settled, Ratchet returning to his work and chuckling on occasion while Drift…pestered you over your absolute dropping of the ball.
“I can't believe this. I'm almost scared to flirt with you now because you may not get it!”
“Driiiiift…!” You whined, the cheeky samurai squeezing your hips. “Let me go, I want to jettison myself out of the airlock.”
“Not a chance!! I mean I want to make sure if I tell you I wanna have you eat my valve from the back that you aren't going to mistake it for me, say, threatening to mug you or something.”
Your face was bright red. “Drift!!”
“Or, oh man, if I tell you I want to slot my plug between your thighs, maybe you'll think I'm wanting you to-”
“RATCHET! DRIFT IS BULLYING ME AGAIN!” Complaining loudly, you squirmed in Drift's hold while eyeing his Conjux, displeased and humiliated and hoping the medic would scold him or something.
Ratchet barely spared you a glance with his optics as he continued his inventory count. He was literally busy and not paying attention to you two.
“Between words from attractive mechs, manhandling, and something almost too big to go in, you enjoy being bullied, and all of us here are very aware of it,” drawled the grouch's response.
You stared at him, mouth dropped open in shock and WORSE embarrassment at how he called your bullshit out. All while Drift began cackling all over again.
You stared up at the habisuite door, staring at the imposing metal barrier of captain Rodimus Prime's personal chambers. Your stomach twisted in knots nervously, your palms somewhat sweaty as you raised a fist and knocked hard, twice. Mentally, you prepared your apology as you heard shuffling and the soft clank of pedes across a metal floor.
God, you hoped the mech thought stupid was hot.
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imagine-darksiders · 8 months ago
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I'm putting together a much longer video where I just ramble about Ulthane and Darksiders while I try and get back into sketching him without a reference, and I had to clip this bit because the slogan fucking kills me.
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bookshopbentley · 1 year ago
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it really fucking annoys me when people act like aziraphale only wants the angel version of crowley . i mean , yes . aziraphale still sees the angel in crowley . but an angel who didn’t ask to fall and didn’t deserve to fall . and an angel isn’t all he sees crowley for . i mean , he wasn’t pining friends with crowley for 6000 + years holding out hope that crowley would become an angel again or only seeing angel crowley because crowley isn’t like any of the angels aziraphale knows . he’s crowley . he’s not angelic or demonic but he’s crowley , and that’s what aziraphale loves .
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cluescorner · 6 months ago
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I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc
#damian wayne#damian al ghul#damian al ghul wayne#batman#batfamily#for all of the issues that come with having Steph as your fave having too much wild shit happening at once is never one of them#btw I quite like The Boy Wonder Issue 1. wow shocker an artist and writer who I have liked everything they've ever done#has once again written something that I am enjoying with art that makes me want to be part of its world.#it's almost like Juni Ba is really freaking talented or something#like I have some problems with it but it seems like many of those are part of the point. Damian is learning that his siblings are more#three-dimensional than he realized and that is part of this 'coming of age' story merged with fairytale#so I can't be mad at the oversimplistic defining of Dick and Jason and Tim until the conclusion of the series. that might be the point.#I hope that the series will address Steph as a Robin but if not then frankly it's not an issue unique to this series.#I'll be annoyed and disappointed but ultimately roll with it like I am with Babsgirl being here. There's too much good stuff here to get#hung up on shit that seems to be almost an editorial mandate at this point. at least that's where I'm at.#I am also very sorry that Chip Zdarsky is massacring your boy. he has 'X (Tim for him) is the best Robin so everyone else must suck' diseas#where a writer really likes one specific Robin and in trying to uplift them demeans all of the other Robins. instead of like...just writing#for that one character only or alternatively not demeaning the other characters in order to make his blorbo look good#it's wild because I actually think his writing for Tim is pretty solid. but he's not writing a Tim series. he's writing a Batman series.#and if you are going to write a Batman series and include other Batfamily members you need to actually write them well.#instead of assigning them like 2 personality traits while Tim gets to be a whole character#I accept that behavior in fanfic where I have lesser standards because it's fucking free. not a comic run that wants me to pay#tens of dollars in order to understand what the fuck is going on. he's been going for a while now it's gotta be a lot of money.#I can buy Steelworks with that money. I can see John Henry and Natasha Irons in a trade. Fuck you Chip.#it's why it takes such a special person to write a good ensemble story/a good Batfamily story. you have to be good at writing a LOT#of different characters. which I don't think most people are. I sure as hell am not. I can write maybe 3 at a time confidently well.#and you also have to give all of them at least SOME love or else people will be upset that you aren't focusing on their fave#and also the writing as a whole will suffer. Chip Zdarsky is a pretty good Tim writer. I'd maybe read a Tim solo written by him.#I would not read a story focusing on multiple characters that I like written by Chip Zdarsky. because every character who isn't Tim#is at least a bit weak/inconsistent/out of character INCLUDING FUCKING BATMAN. THE NO. 1 GUY MOST ARE HERE FOR
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hazeism · 1 year ago
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Book Demerzel was male in the past too! She is Gender.
Ooh, okay, so I guess my understanding of things is kind of impaired by the fact that I'm still on Edge (I went in in-universe chrono, though--I mean I did the Empire books all jumbled because I read Pebble ages and ages ago and then the other two came in as holds from my library in the wrong order hahah--so I started the Foundation novels with Prelude) and have yet to read and Earth which I think he returns in? So I might be missing a huge amount of context regarding his presentation/interpretation/etc. etc.
Most of my ideas about Daneel's complication regarding gender mostly conform to my understanding of him (any pronouns apply 🥰🥰 but I'm used to he so I'll just go with that for now) as a fundamentally resolved, instrumental thing--though cornered of course by minimalism and limited knowledge--who has the luxury (?) of more readily identifying the contextual applications of gender, combined then with millenia of insight into the fluid/arbitrary drifts of social and cultural mores, plus his own schematics of prioritization and internalization... I think he is on like extradimensional levels of gender, internally, and I hope there is canon basis for him taking upon himself some gendered aspects in a functional/teleological manner (as he takes on other aspects of personhood! even Demerzel himself is an adopted aspect!) because I think that even if that goes uninterrogated (as so many things in these novels do GRRR!) it has even more necessary implications for his internal cognitions of gender!!!!
That said I DO also think there's something to be said about the amount of gendered socialization he gets in his most formative years (especially from his Earthman who knows his sociological formulas but does not have a very sophisticated or unblemished understanding of gender politicssdbfkdj)--which is undercut by his state of subjection and perpetual qualification and Othering from people who do know his true nature, and then the implication of Deceit (not what I believe him to be doing--at least in the context of gender/lack thereof but definitely how it would be interpreted by towards people who don't know what he is which like. very transgender existence tbh being considered inherently deceitful) but this all just makes it more texturally complex and interesting and makes him even better at being soooo gender. Love that thing!!!!
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t4tpumpkinduo · 1 year ago
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man.
#i had this whole post ive been trying to formulate for so so long. abt my issues w ceewilbur and ccwilburisms and#to clarify i do like cwilb he is one of my faves. ik it may seem i wanna bite his arm off smtimes and i Do but#its mostly bitterness directed to the stuff Around him if that makes sense. yk the response to lots abt him#the way the overcompensation abt how he can be villanized swinging into a state where he Cant and never Did and wrong and if you critique#or acknowledge it you get snipped at and demeaned and treated like its a targeted hit on the mentally ill when its like#a mild disagreement with one of the most popular characters in the fanbase Easily#and w cc wil i do think he is just sm guy. im sure he's a nice dude idrc abt the ccs usually but he seems alright enough even tho he has v#goofy ahh takes and opinions but that doesnt make you Evil#but when i dive into what really has made me feel so alienated and snippy its. llmao its the racism yeah lol its super very much the racism#its very very prevelent and very common and very unchallenged. and it like. upsets me so bad its why i keep bailing on making my actual#full detailed post abt it. cuz everytime i try to formulate my thoughts i just get upset and frustrated i wanna rip my hair out#its hard not to feel like im talking to a wall when its so common and unchecked and. ive seen rightful critiques of these spaces and how#ppl interact with them Openly Mocked and brushed aside and treated like 'petty sensative internet drama' that ppl need to 'just get over'#sorry man im a fucking 🇲🇽 i cant exactly log off and Stop Experiencing Racism. and sorry that me feeling alienated and tired and sad abt#it is an inconvenience for you llol#and like idk. im not upset w anyone in particular this isnt a call out post or vague who give a shit and.#eh maybe im stupid but i really really believe a lot of ppl arent doing it on purpose#its just bein parroted ik i get it but#am i rlly not allowed to be tired? why should it feel like my responsibility to hold ppls hand and go hey mb treat poc and darker skinned#ppl like ppl. maybe you should examine why you need so many things made palatable to you through conventionally attractive whiteness first#idk. idk!!! am i crazy who fucking knows#but it has been weighing on me stupid style so bad#the shrinking fanbase and primarily yk common stragglers has just. rlly felt like a magnifying glass to my already existing issues abt it#idk man. idk im tired and im at work its 100°+ and my head hurts so this is all yr getting. lea me alone#and again this isnt a vague who Cares. just wanted to get it off my chest finally#huri.txt#discourse#<- ig
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unproduciblesmackdown · 1 year ago
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also quite the illustration in wags being like "'not asking permission' - wags" and plowing through someone expressing a physical boundary but he was already intending to use physical violence & violation & assumed corresponding distress as a tool to get his way....amidst the typicality, "correctness," permissibility of all that around here like five times an hour
#winston billions#and in all ways like the [oh well but at least it's Not That Bad(tm)] / some theoretical peak lasting physical harm....not that relevant#not unlike how billions didn't need to put all that effort into supposedly not yet going ''yeah prince is the worst ofc'' in s6#like oh he repeatedly took advantage of someone (not a cis man) he's ceo of; early 20s/abt the age of his kids so he could have sex#but then we have to be going ''oh but well at least it's Not That Bad'' like yeah wow & that doesn't matter That Much / make it That Good#it's all operating on the same logic & principles & that is the issue; there'll always be some theoretical worse instance....#and what's it do for what's deemed [worse instances] to then just use that against ''lesser'' instances#rian out here apparently w/no idea abt power but also somehow aware she has to assert Fault for it herself thinking emoticon#but also rian being clueless / continuing not to think abt shit at all / maybe thinking fucking an old man makes her Mature is all like#more stuff that doesn't quite coalesce into anything consistent & instead is all incompletely gestured at as some Explanation Aggregate#sorry i've noticed that this is a leaking bag of gravel labeled ''rian'' and not a character#anyways. and wendy Would do aba & ppl Do already give the organic aba & it's abusive. check the ''not abt ppl's wellbeing'' & the ppl who#get to be In Charge of anyone else & the ''corrected'' ppl Not getting to be treated as people#rian's treatment of winston....all the Aggressive behavior only allowed to Some & that serves to get those people's ways#all the demeaning treatment directed at ppl so that someone can try using them as a stepstool for their feelings / ego#&/or simply to try to get their [being a person] to stop being a roadblock to their existence aligning w/only what you want from them#next episode sure could be about how Actually This Place Is Horrible For Its Own Employees; it has been; it'll continue to be....#like a great time to deal with that. if wendy wants to consider if she's actually not doing anything Good here then like time for that too#might convince everyone else to (a) not quit for their own sakes & maybe even also (b) see wendy to make her feel better. again.#but maybe we still lose winston as the guy who (a) gets to peace out & (b) is just having one of the more miserable times over there#taylor's busier; sometimes in englander; no tmc niche; not close enough to tuk to chat; dollar bill's here; rian won't let him speak....#and whether taylor Themself being unable to convince winston to return gets them thinking abt things & stuff. not like they've been unaware#at all of this Environment being hostile & miserable lol but nobody just kind of matter of factly wanders out w/o Basically being pushed...#& it's been a minute since they were a fellow nonboss employee. & maybe Winston quitting just shakes up assumptions & then why not question#more things & like; even if they suppose they're fine enough for Now & Could be happy w/a billion or their own place or something like#maybe you too can just walk out you can leave w/o having been forced to some Crisis Breaking Point about it#and not spend years more at the sunk cost factory of more problems worse times etc etc....a concept#&/or idk maybe also just pondering like oh also the way people here or anywhere are negatively affected even if you werent paying attention#this is all still operating off the one theory though of course#but also the actual text of this post needs no further canon info or context to be True / about what it is lmao. wags die challenge
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medicasino · 2 years ago
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where's that post that's like "if you fawn over fictional characters with scars but treat irl people with visible disabilities and/or facial differences like shit or think theyre creepy you suck" because i want to reblog that a MILLION times.
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cherry-leclerc · 2 months ago
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we never talk about it ☆ op81
genre: humor, angst, yearning, massive crushes, and lots and lots of miscommunication, assistant!reader
word count: 11k
It's unwise—longing for someone like Oscar. While he's the epitome of someone anyone can easily fall in love with, you're the epitome of a devoted girl who will fall in love with him. You might not even care too much about all the heartbreak you endure along the way.
inspired by this !
cherry here!... based on real events.
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Do you remember the day we first met?
The wind doesn’t do its job in blocking him out, the way you prayed and wished it would. You’re still able to catch the crack in his voice—a distant reminder of the way it once made you giggle. Even his nose is beet red, matching the Christmas lights. But apart from all that, you still hear him. You still see him. 
You always have.
“A little bit. Yeah.”
He flinches, then tries to play it off with a soft smile. Like he doesn’t want you to uncover the slight hurt he feels. But he can’t read your mind. He never could. And that was the problem.
Oscar nods, feigning indifference. “I do. Remember it all, I mean.  Think back to it quite often."
-
It’s utterly useless to try and ignore him, really.
His hair is too fluffy, his eyes are too bright, and his accent is making you want to flaunt the way some loony character would with a hand over their heart. It was honestly a tad bit demeaning.
But you can't help it. You admire the way his brown locks fall in a lousy manner when he towers down to sign the contract. You blush when his eyes get that twinkle in them. And you swoon over almost anything he says with a shy smile.
“You’re drooling.”
Mortified, you briskly run the back of your hand against your mouth before sending a harsh glare. Lando snickers. “Would you please stop?”
His jaw drops, theatrically. “You’re not actually into him—are you?”
He says it with a trace of humor, but also shock, and you can't help but have your mouth run dry. A loose grin starts to expand across his lips as you hurriedly shake your head. “O-of course not. Are you crazy?”
But if anything, you feel crazy. You must be, right? With every passing second of your heart beating faster and faster against your chest simply just by looking at the young Australian, you’re sure you fall straight into the category like some love fool.
Lando squints his eyes. “I don’t know.” He leans in straight into your face, nearly hissing. “Am I?”
“Am I interrupting?” 
Flinching hard, you turn quickly to face Anastasia. You’d initially met the black haired girl back in 2019. As you started off as the Brits personal assistant, she took over as Carlos’ and later also Daniel’s. Over the course of time, you two came to be as close as sisters. 
“No! Not at all,” you squeak, nervously before pushing the McLaren driver away and patting towards the open chair next to you. She giggles, rolling her eyes and adjusting herself. “How was the flight over?”
A shrug. “As good as it can get. Sat next to a silver fox, so I guess that must count for something, no?” Lando shudders. She leans in closer, plopping her head against your shoulder. “What’d I miss?”
“Not much.” Only, that’s not true. She missed the way he laughed awkwardly when the doors wouldn’t slide open and let him into the headquarters. She missed the way he rolled his R’s a little too hard when saying ‘sorry’. She missed the way he grabbed the pen with a certain glow on his face, like he almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Lazy fingers pat her head gently once before sighing. “He seems nice.”
“How do you know?”
You know because of the way he talks to everyone. Like he cares about what they have to say. Whether it’s about how great his career is going to be here in McLaren or if they introduce their kids to him via FaceTime. He always wore the same smile, talked in the same warm tone. So, could your guess be far off? Yes. It could be completely far off. But you would bet money that it wasn’t. 
“Just a wild hypothesis.”
Her laugh isn’t too loud, not ridiculously so, at least, but the fact that it echoes is what makes it appear as such. Anastasia is quick to slap her hand over her mouth, the Brit turns fast to face her with panic evident in his eyes, and you simply blink with a shade of red slowly creeping towards your cheekbones. 
Zak grins. “You three.”
“Oh, we’re out,” Lando mumbles in monotone, already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the exit. You follow numbly, like you don’t have any strength left in your body. 
“You’re leaving me?” Anastasia hisses.
“She’s my assistant,” he says like a matter-of-fact. “Where I go, she goes.”
“Oh, you Judas—”
“All of you,” Zak clarifies, narrowing his eyes over to you and the Brit. You gulp.
With a soft curse, Anastasia stands up, tall and firm, and makes her way over with all the confidence in the world. You frown, craving to be the same way, even just a small percentage. Instead, you have to be forced by the McLaren driver. 
With every step, your head just spins faster because now, he’s more than real. You can smell his cologne. You can count all the moles that cover his face if you really wanted to. You can spot how his hair is still a bit wet, indicating an early shower. 
He’s just becoming— too real. 
“Lando, buddy, meet your new teammate!”
“Nice to meet you,” the blue eyed boy declares with a loopy grin, letting go of your hand in order to shake his. 
“Likewise.”
Zak claps once. “Oh! And meet your personal assistant, Anastasia.”
“Here for anything you might need,” she cheers with a bright smile.
“Fantastic.”
A wave of silence overlaps your four before Lando clears his throat. “And even though you might not be working with her one-on-one, this is my Anastasia.” A snicker. “My assistant, if you will.”
“Nice to meet you—”
“Nice to meet you—”
You both freeze, hands intertwined for a second longer before abruptly letting go. He lets out a dry laugh while you do the same. The way your skin tingles makes you blush. 
“This is fun and all, but we actually have somewhere to be,” the Brit claims with a suspicious look slashed across his usual laid back expression. You nod. “But we’ll see each other soon, man. Can’t wait to race together!”
In a flash, you two are out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Oscar blinking slowly.
-
“He fucks with you.”
“Excuse me?”
Another bench press. “As in, he likes you. He’s into you.”
You don’t dare ask who he is because you already know who the Brit’s referring to and that would only inflate your ego. Snapping your fingers, you narrow your eyes. “Focus. Two more sets left to go.” He groans, flipping you off.
It would be a lie to say that this didn’t make your self-esteem skyrocket. Could he be right? Could someone like Oscar ever lay eyes on you? Somewhere in your dreams, you’d like to say yes. Yes. That is a possibility. But the longer you think about it, the more unrealistic it gets.
You don’t have what others do. And that itself is enough to pop the bubble. 
-
The start of the season is always tough. 
“He’s extremely nervous.”
For some more than others.
You frown. “Really? But he’s usually so…relaxed.”
Anastasia shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder as she continues typing. “I mean, I tried talking to him but with everything I said, he’d just reply—'that's nice’. It was sarcastic, if anything. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel for him. Poor boy.” Her fingers freeze mid-air. “Wait—do you think you could talk to him?”
“I’m not sure that’s a great idea—”
“Come on! Maybe it’ll help him ease his nerves!”
“Ana—”
“Please.”
You huff. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”
As soon as you knock, you almost want to turn away. Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Plus, it’s not like he’s going to die from having butterflies in his stomach. Yeah, surely he’ll be fine and he doesn’t really even need you to—
“Come in.”
He wasn't expecting you, that much you can tell by the way his brows go up. But he’s quick to erase the confusion, settling with a fond expression. “Hey.”
“Hi,” you squeak before cringing at the sound. He chuckles, returning to his warm-up exercises. “How are you feeling?”
Another chuckle, this time amused. “Anastasia sent you, didn’t she?”
“What?” A beat. “No.”
He hums. “Tsk. I’m a bit nervous, that's all.”
You lick your lips, kicking your foot up against the doorframe. What could you possibly say that she hasn’t already? If she couldn’t ease him, then how can you? The thought of messing up and making it worse makes your stomach churn. 
“You’re going to do g—”
“Great?” He sighs, blowing his cheeks. “That’s exactly what she said.”
“And what’s wrong with it? She’s only trying to help.”
“No. I know she is, but…” He looks down onto his lap, pausing all movements. “Look, I appreciate you both. What you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t stand hearing what others think I want to hear.”
“It doesn’t do it for you?”
His eyes grow slightly wide with the way you go about and ask. He’s never seen you be anything other than sweet and reserved. But this—right now—is stern and very coach-like. Something and someone you aren’t. Not even close.
“It doesn’t,” he admits, finally looking away. “Never liked it. Always sounds too forced.”
You nod, crossing your arms. “Fine. I can tell you the truth. I can be truthful.” He perks. “Oscar, you’re a terrific driver.” He groans, covering his face with his hands. “But just because you’re great doesn’t mean you’ll be great all the time.” The Australian frowns, uncovering and looking up at you with attentive eyes. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to be second, or third, or sometimes even twentieth, but that doesn’t matter, you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you signed that contract, so you sort of have to suck it up, either way.” He lets out a loud laugh. Very unlike him. A weak smile threatens to fall as you try your best to push it back. “There’s going to be bad races, but there’s also going to be very good races. It all depends on you and how hard you work. Sometimes you’ll have a good car, a good strat, and others you’ll have a shitbox and a bad strat. That’s just the way this sport works, okay?”
Oscar blinks slowly, as if trying to decipher who you are, and that itself makes you dizzy. “I-I-I don’t care if you’re nervous, I don’t care if you’re sure—all we care is that you drive that car, and that you try your best no matter what. Can you do that?”
It’s foreign. The feeling in his chest. He’s not used to hearing any of this. As of recently, everyones been texting him to say how great he’s going to be. How far he’ll go. And while he was grateful for having unconditional support, he also dreaded hearing it sometimes because he doesn’t even want to picture letting any of  them down. He’ll act like he’s fine, he’ll act like he doesn’t care—but none of that would be true.
The brunette tilts his head to the side, slightly squinting. “I can. I can always try my best. Even if I fall short.”
“Good.” A beat. “We all believe in you. No matter what, okay?”
A timid smile. “I know…”
He ends up having to retire the car by lap fifteen, but the most astonishing part is that he’s not even upset. He tried his best. He listened to every single advice his engineer would alert him with. He practiced long hours in the stimulator.
This is just the way things go sometimes. Just like you said.
-
“I’m bored. Can I get a ten minute break or something?” Lando grimaces, rolling his wrist like it's the worst pain in the world. 
You hum, fixing the signed hats back into the box. With eyes screwed, you shrug. “Fine. But only ten! I’m serious. We need to have this done by one.”
“Yes! Ten—got it.”
He doesn’t come back in ten. For the matter, he actually goes missing. 
You narrow your eyes towards the clock, watching as it clicks like some mockery. You’re going to strangle him. You vow at that very moment that you’ll strangle the Brit as soon as you lay hands on him. With one final huff of desperation, you stand up, rubbing your eyes. People frolic through the paddock—you’re sure you even catch a glimpse of Lewis being papped—but that’s not what catches all of your attention. 
Instead, you find yourself leaning against the rail, squinting down to where the man of the hour sits, microphones huddled all around him like some interrogation. Anastasia smiles politely, back straight, and voice-recorder in hand. 
It’s faint—you almost can’t hear a thing—but it’s just enough. 
How does it feel to be back home? Enjoying it, no?
Oscar hums, straight brows slightly furrowed due to the bright sun, but just one adjustment of his hat makes that all go away. “Feels good. I’m able to sleep in my own bed, so that’s pretty cool. And yes. It may be a bit biased, but I am enjoying my time here more than the last two races.” Everyone chuckles. 
Can we talk about your expectations for this weekend? 
You can see him pause, and from where you’re standing, the way his fingers drum against his chair. “Well, I, uh…I hope for a good car.” The joke is supposed to be there, but you can tell everyone was expecting more with the way they murmur to one another. You wince.
Will raises the microphone up to his lips, along with his hand in order to catch the brunette’s attention. “I’m sure there’s been lots of people reaching out to you since this is your first home race, but has there been someone’s advice that has stuck like no other?”
Oscar smiles gently. “There has been, actually.”
You freeze, gripping the steel bar with anticipation. Your knuckles nearly feel like they’re about to snap, and you feel like you’re probably leaning a bit too far over the edge to hear it all, but you don’t even care. Will chuckles. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind sharing with us all? I’m sure it’ll help a lot of youngsters watching.”
Anastasia slides the recorder closer. Oscar visibly swallows. “I’m not sure I can. I never asked her for permission to talk about it. And quite frankly, I’d like to keep it between us.”
Will perks up. “Her?”
The black-haired girl is quick to whisper into his ear, turning the opposite way so no one can even attempt to read her lips. He nods, eyes trained forward like some guard. “Any more questions?” But everyone’s intrigued at this point, so all the questions that follow remain the same. Something that makes Anastasia panic and Oscar regret his choice of words. 
“Can we get a name?” some blurts out, nearly seeming desperate to get the inside scoop.
Only, his face remains still, jaw slacked. “No.”
Will raises his hand. “Very well, we don’t have any right to know, but are you willing to share a bit about what she said?”
And it’s almost as if the Australian can foresee that the only way to get out of this situation is by giving them what they want. Even if it’s a stupid little crumb. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She told me to try my best. That’s all I can really do.”
The mix of photographers and journalists deflate. “I-I’m sorry,” Lawrence Barretto slides in with a light tone and an ever lighter smile. “Don’t mean to lessen its meaning, but isn’t that a common thing to say? To hear?” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I just thought it’d be something a bit more…deep. Inspiring, perhaps.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re grateful to whatever God may exist that you’re not down there. On the other hand, Oscar is a bit bothered by the innocent comment, but then realizes he doesn't have to be. They weren’t there. They don’t know just how much more you said. How upfront you were with him without sounding condescending. Something most people did without even realizing. 
The brown eyed boy spares a smile. “Like I said—some things I’d like to keep between her and I. And even if it was just that, it’s the way she said it.” A beat. “It’s quite a lavish thing to have. A sincere person to talk to, I mean.”
Will tilts his head suspiciously. “It appears she might be someone special to you, yes?”
The Australian freezes at the unwanted interpretation. Suddenly, the atmosphere is far too crowded. He lets out a forced chuckle, rolling his neck before messaging it gently. “Well, yes. I’d agree.” 
A mix of giddiness and shock rushes through your veins as you refrain yourself from jumping up and down with excitement. 
“You’d be lucky if you had her as a friend too.”
-
“Is everything okay?”
Biting down on the churro he had gifted you as an apology for not getting back on time, you growl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”
Lando raises a thick brow. “Dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re moping.”
Your jaw goes slack, immediately turning to face him. “I am not moping.”
The sound he lets out indicates he doesn’t quite believe you, but is choosing to let it go. Also, he doesn’t want to see your patience run out, too scared of what you might do. The curly haired driver plops down onto his bed that stands in his motorhome, closing his eyes. You nearly envy the indifference in him. The lack of worry. 
“I can hear your teeth clenching. Gross.”
A grunt. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Need anything?”
“Only a nap. It’s a good thing you’ll be gone.” He turns over to his side, bringing your jacket over his face to block out any light. You bite the air, swinging silently for a minute or two before exiting the cramped room. 
The sun hurts, you remember thinking, but the upcoming migraine you’re getting is even worse. You should be used to this by now, given you’ve suffered from them since elementary, but based on the way you zig zag without meaning to is enough proof to know that you’re not. Everyone's voices are suddenly muffled, even the sound of engines roaring is as soft as a feather. You wince, massaging your temples as if that might help. 
Woah, are you feeling alright? 
“I’m fine,” you respond meekly, to who even knows. You wave them off rudely. “I’ll be fine. Just. Leave me alone.” 
Anastasia frowns, all while fanning your face. “No. You need to lay down.” She nudges the Australian, who up until now, you had no clue he had his arm clung around your waist. If you weren’t too busy feeling like shit, you’d definitely be making a fool out of yourself. Her green eyes fill up with worry. “I’m gonna go look for a paramedic.”
“You’re doing too much,” you slur, body letting loose and making the brunette shriek as he grips you harder, trying to keep you upright. 
A deadpan expression. “Oscar, take her back to your motorhome and have her lay down.”
He nods, hesitantly. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Once she runs off like a headless chicken, you let out a dramatic gag. Sharp brows knit together with horror. “Do I smell bad?”
A giggle. “No. As a matter of fact, you smell rich.”
With his arm still wrapped around you securely, and warm eyes flickering from to you back to see where he’s heading, he grins, eyes crinkling. “Rich? That just so happens to have a scent?”
You purse your lips, wincing at the fact that your peripheral vision has gone completely dark. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m a terrific liar and I’m only stroking your ego for my benefit.”
Another chuckle. “Benefit? What benefit may that be?”
Tsk. “How else am I gonna get you to take me to bed?”
The Australian instantly chokes hard on a string of his own saliva, causing you to flinch at the loud sound. Loud to you, at least. He apologizes, but not before taking a glance down, like it’s the first time meeting you. 
As soon as you lay down on the miniature mattress, you release a groan. Even just having your eyes closed makes you dizzy. You let out a loud groan, kicking your feet against the cushion in desperation.
“That bad?”
“That annoying.”
And even though you can’t see him, he nods, internally freaking out, trying to think of ways to help. “Does this happen to you often?”
“Yes.”
He nods, sheepishly. “W-what do you normally do? You know? To help?”
Tossing over to lay on your side, you pinch your eyes, grinding your molars. For a minute, you sort of thought your teeth might crack. Everything about this situation was becoming unbearable. “My mom, she, um…she’d normally braid my hair. It helped sometimes. Others it didn’t.” Messy hair dangles over your face as you let you out a loud exhale, as if you were in the middle of releasing some demon. “I moved too much, she said.”
Oscar smiles, coming across like a faint memory locked in the back of your mind. “I-I-I can try…” Loopy eyes flicker up to face him, and he’s quick to scrunch his nose. The sight alone makes you breathe easier, though he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. “Only if you want me to…”
“You know how?”
“Sort of? When I was younger, I used to sit across from my sisters at the breakfast table. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”
The subtle proud smile makes your heart beat flutter, smitten at the insight to his childhood. You wish you knew more. Like what was his favorite show? Did he have any imaginary friends, just like you did? Or maybe his favorite superhero? But you swallow all those questions down your throat as soon as he kneels down next to you. The whiff of soft musk distinctively adds to your headache, but you’re too focused on him for something as dumb as that to matter. 
“Just…close your eyes.”
Taking one last glance at him, you comply, lashes fanning slowly before going completely dark. You can still hear him adjusting, you can feel him take your hair into his hands, but nothing makes you stop breathing like his touch that grazes your cheek. 
It’s almost ghostlike—doesn’t really stay on the same spot for too long—but you know it’s real. Long fingers calmly push strands of hair behind your ear, tranquility expanding over your body. The slight tickle it causes helps ease your pounding migraine, little by little. 
“Are my hands too cold?” he whispers, not trying to intrude, but at the same time, wanting to know. You twist, bottom lip jutting out. Not at all. Keep going. And he does. He ends up tangling your hair a bit, because as it turns out, he doesn’t remember much, but he’s sure to delicately fix his mess, brows drawn in with heavy concentration. 
As soon as your hair is back to flowing free, he relaxes, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. Your hair feels soft. Just what he would imagine a cloud would feel like. For a second, he begins to wonder, who’s this really for? He feels like this might be soothing him more than you. 
Just then, his finger catches on a knot, and he freezes, stopping all movements. “Holy crap, I am so sorry, I—”
You let out a low whimper, but don’t do so much as bat an eye. You’re sound asleep. The brunette lets out a breath of relief, falling back to sit on the ground. 
Your face is a bit squashed—and you’re drooling just a tad bit—but for some odd reason, he finds himself admiring. You’re full lips. You’re lashes. God, even the way you breathe. He feels a tender smile itching, but it never truly gets to see the light of day, because before he knows it, the door is swung wide open. 
Anastasia stops dead in her tracks. “What happe—is she asleep?”
Oscar opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. He does this a couple of times, awkwardly turning to face you and his assistant, back and forth, back and forth. “She, um…just did. A minute ago.”
She pouts, scratching her head. “Weird. Usually when this happens it prolongs for at least ten minutes before it gets any better.” The green eyed girl sheepishly waves the group of paramedics away. A trail of sighs echo as they turn away. As soon as they’re gone, she gently shuts the door, then tippy toes towards the edge of the small bed. Neat brows furrow. “At least she’s feeling better, no?”
Brown eyes follow her gaze. “Yeah. At least.”
-
Lando ends up throwing—and according to him— “The World’s Coolest Jamboree”. You beg for him to call it anything but jamboree, but he’s too attached to it by the time he sends the last text invite, which so happens to be to the rookie driver. 
“Has anyone RSVPed?” you question over his shoulder. He’s in the middle of mixing some mysterious liquid, but by the looks of it, doesn’t look any good. You grimace. 
He lets out a bleh before dropping his utensils. “No one RSVPs these days. They either show up, or they don’t.” 
A slow nod. “So, you don’t know who’s coming?”
“Not a clue. But most likely everyone.”
You scoff. “How are you so sure?”
He gives you an ‘are you kidding me?’ type glare before sending a sly grin. “First of all, it’s my party. They’d be crazy to miss out. And second of all…it’s only the biggest, funnest, coolest jamboree!”
“Funnest is not a word.”
“And party-poopers aren’t welcomed.” You gasp, smacking his chest harshly. He lets out a snicker, picking up a bag of ice and spilling it into the glass bowl. “But I’ll make an exception. Just this once.”
“Just this once,” you mimic before dipping your pinky in. He instantly slaps your hand away. Smacking your lips, you let out a yelp at the bitter taste. “This tastes like ass. God—not even Daniel will drink this, and that guy drinks anything in his way. I’m surprised he hasn’t been accidentally roofied.”
Lando claps his hands with amusement. “God forbid. And please, pay your respect to Lando’s Best Worst Decision.” A beat. “™.” 
“™?” you deadpan. “What? Are you planning on adding a trademark to this sewage water?”
“It’s good, okay?” Mixing the clear liquid once more, he smiles fondly down at it. “And maybe. I’m seriously considering it.”
You sneer, already walking away.
He ends up being right. Not even an hour later, the party is in full swing. Sure, a couple drivers aren’t able to make it, but it’s still jammed packed. It's honestly a miracle to get through the Monaco flat. 
You’re still sober?
Laughing, you nod, raising your water up in the air like some toast. Daniel frowns. “Considering I have to make sure my number one client doesn’t make any bad choices tonight, then nope. Can’t have a sip of alcohol.” 
Brown eyes flutter slowly. “I’m sure there’s other beverage choices. Have you tried Lando’s Best Worst Decision?” He leans in, winking. “™.”
“Oh no. Don’t tell me you actually like it?” He shrugs and you shudder in disgust. “I’m sure I saw him add ten energy shots and God knows what else.”
“No wonder I feel kinda funky.” Your face drops. “Hey, if you pass out, can I crash tonight?”
“Daniel!” you groan, covering your face. “I swear, I’m going to spill that stupid drin—” Only, Daniel is gone. Craning your head, you circle the room. From where you stand, you’re able to see Carlos and Lando taking part in a heated round of pool, all while Charles sways back and forth, infamous red cup in hand.
Marching over to the kitchen island, you pick up the glass bowl and carry it over to the sink before tipping it over. You huff, hair fanning across your nose. 
“Stupid, stupid boys—”
“Hey.”
You shriek, dropping the bowl, and wincing at the sound of glass shattering. 
Oscar grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?”
“No.” You sigh. “Lando’s gonna kill me.”
Grabbing the nearby broom, the Australian sweeps carefully while knitting his brows. “Why?”
“It’s a family heirloom.”
“A glass bowl?”
You giggle. “I wonder why too.”
Despite the blaring music, and constant chattering, the room feels rather silent. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, and that seems to catch his eye as it dawns on him that he hasn’t really seen you in anything other than your usual uniform. To be fair, you could say the same. He likes it. 
You clear your throat. “Halfway done. How do you feel?”
He sips on his water, jaw clicking before settling with a sharp tsk. “Good. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. Anastasia even congratulated me the other day when I diverted a series of questions with ease.”
Impressed, you raise your brows. “Bravo. Wish that was the case with Lando. I swear, sometimes I think he does and says things to make me look bad on purpose.”
“He should stop,” he says with a goofy smile. “Does he not know how lucky he is to get to call you his assistant?”
You blush. “Best friend, actually. I’ve been promoted ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend last New Year's Eve.”
The brunette inches forward with curiosity. “Wish to clarify?”
You hop onto the island, fixing your dress and crossing your legs. “Don’t tell him that I told you any of this, but I secretly think he was embarrassed of not having a midnight’s kiss. Especially since his ex was there with her new boyfriend. Talk about the unexpected.”
His chest tightens. “You two, um…kissed, then?”
“Yes,” you confirm with a childlike grin, and for some reason, it makes him want to puke. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about this in forever!”
He pretends to find interest in the crowded room, but really, it all remains on you. “Was it any good?”
You blush this time and he swears he’s close to walking away. “Yes and no. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t feel right.”
He perks up then, floppy hair bouncing at the sudden speed. “Really?” He coughs, then fixes his watch, training his eyes towards the floor. “Erm, I mean, is that so?”
A nose scrunch. “It felt like kissing someone you’re not supposed to. Which I suppose is true. We’re better off as friends.” He relaxes. “Thinking about it, we might’ve gagged each other's mouths.” You grimace. “If that doesn't show our discomfort, then I don’t know what will.”
“Good to know.” Oscar rubs his arm, up and down, then steps closer to you. You blink. “Hey, I was meaning to ask—”
Strippers? I didn’t order any strippers. 
Hire, a male voice interjects. He means to say he didn’t—hire—any strippers. 
“Son of a…” You wince apologetically, to which he shrugs. Don’t worry. Go. Biting your lip, you nod, rushing to the living room, where Lando, Daniel, and a bunch of other randoms circle the almost nude girls with long legs. 
“I mean, I won’t turn you away, ladies,” the Brit mumbled, already wrapping his arms around their waists. They all giggle, inching closer until he’s a blushing mess. 
You snap your fingers, pointing towards the exit. “All of you need to leave.”
Is that your sister? the one with a cowboy hat whispers into his ear. He quickly shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you like a deadly weapon. 
“No. That’s his girlfriend,” Daniel yodels, face pressed up against the couch, admiring the group of girls. “But they’re in an open relationship.”
“I’m not his girlfriend—”
“She’s not my girlfriend—”
Oscar’s jaw clenches, eyes focused on the entire commotion. The older Australian rolls his eyes. “Right. We don’t talk about it.”
“Would you stop trying to help?” you shoot back, sarcastically, and clap your hands as if you’re rounding up a new high school cheer. “I need you all out. You want money? Fine. He’ll give you money,” you declare, signaling towards Lando. 
“Hey,” he groans, instantly letting go and stepping closer to you. “They haven’t even done anything to earn it….”
Your eye twitches. “I swear to God—”
“Deal,” the redhead shoots out. “But we need a moment to come to an agreement. You know? On how much we want to ask for.”
“Perfect,” you chirp, rolling your heels. “Take out your wallet, Big Boy.”
“You used to be fun.”
“And you used to be terrified over a pair of tits when I first met you. Whatever happened?” Lando blushes profoundly before pushing you away. “Want them gone, Lando, gone!”
“Yes! Jesus Christ—let me deal with this.”
“I’m done,” you promise with your hands raised up in surrender. “But just remember what happened last time.” He frowns, cocking his head to the side. You wiggle your brows. “São Paulo.” 
Color drains his face before letting out an unhinged laugh and motioning you away. You giggle, heading back to where Oscar stands. 
“I see what you mean,” he announces. What? “How he can have a bit of a headache.” 
“See! I told you! Four years of this!” A dramatic yawn. “I’m tired.” 
A string of boo’s follow once the strippers prance out the door, waving all their money in the air. Specifically Daniel, who genuinely looks upset to see them go. Oscar leans down against the counter, the proximity between you becoming smaller. “You should get some rest, then.” But he selfishly doesn’t  mean it. He wants you to stay—to keep talking to him. 
You let out a snort, grabbing your sides. “I mean, I'm tired of being Lando’s assistant. It’s a full time job, y’know?”
“Oh.” He stands up straight again. “Right. Of course.”
You purse your lips, looking down to your shoes. “But that was actually quite thoughtful.”
She thinks I’m thoughtful, he internally swoons because that must be a good sign, right? Not everyone is thoughtful, but he is, and that must count for something. Gathering all the strength he has left—which is not much considering you blink up at him like some angel—he licks his pink lips. “Back to what I was going to say earlier before you left—”
“I wasn’t trying to step on him! I already said I was sorry!” you hear a familiar voice, instantly turning to find Anastasia kicking Daniel’s face back into place, well, since he now lays asleep on the floor. You curse beneath your breath, jumping off the island once again. 
“His head did a complete 360!” Yuki accuses, clearly panicked. “That's not normal, is it?”
“No, it is,” Pierre replies with a bored tone. “I’ve seen it happen before.”
Crouching down next to the curly haired driver, you jab his cheek before motioning Oscar and Anastasia closer. “Help me carry him to the guest room,” you instruct, already taking off your cardigan. 
The black haired girl is quick on her feet, grabbing the Australians right leg as you grab the left. Oscar, however, swallows hard at the amount of cleavage you’re suddenly displaying, but instantly snaps out of it when both you and Anastasia blink back at him. He picks up the Alpha Tauri driver’s upper body before puffing. 
You blush bright pink at the sight of his muscles pulsing against his t-shirt. “I-It’s just around the corner.” 
As soon as you make it into the room, you three carefully place Daniel onto the bed, to which he squirms before flipping over and snoring away. You motion a finger over your lips before pushing them both out. Gently closing the door behind you,you let out a breath of relief. 
Anastasia lets out a whistle. “Surprisingly not that heavy.”
Oscar scoffs. “Easy for you to say. I had to carry most of his weight.” 
She shrugs, hugging you hello and apologizing for being so late, and you’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine, though she missed the chance to see strippers give Lando a tough time. She sneers. “I didn’t even know there existed strippers in Monaco.” And then she’s off, clapping loudly at the sight of Lando giving out a round of jello shots. You sigh, rubbing your temples.
“I-I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”
He freezes. “Oh. Just that—” He panics. “Only that I like your shoes!”
You blink, deflating from within. But you try to cover it up with a soft smile. “Thanks, I guess?” Orbs flicker down toward your white Sambas. “Lando says they are overrated, but I like ‘em.”
He nods. “Yeah. I like them too.”
-
It happens one Friday afternoon—the decision. 
You’re in between races, you’re in between headaches, and you’re ready to self-implode. So, before any of that happens, you make your first decision. To go on a walk. 
It’s getting rather chilly these days, something you love, but also hate. You love it because there is a certain coziness that comes along with it, but you also hate it because you can’t always be cozy, so you’re left shivering. Much like now. But to be fair, this was your own choosing. 
The pounding that takes over your head lessens the longer you stroll, the longer you breathe actual fresh air. You don’t really think much, you mainly remain blank, but the sound of tires screeching rips you away. Squinting hard, you catch a glimpse of a lady with grocery bags flipping off the fellow driver, who shares nothing but an apologetic smile before driving off. 
“What happened? Do I have something on my face?”
Dusting your nose, then your cheek, you blush faintly. You instantly assume it’s the powdered donuts fault—the one you had gobbled up in a hurry during the drive back to the paddock. It was an early morning, and no one really made it on time when it came to early days, but you always did. And so did Oscar. So, a sleepy Zak gave you a wad of cash, and sent you two to the nearest donut shop. 
The Australian shakes his head, blinking straight ahead. “N-no, I was just checking my blind spot.”
That only makes you blush harder because in what crazy world would he be looking at you? 
A single nod. The car is quiet apart from the sound of his hands moving against the steering wheel, and the sound of the blinker clicking. It’s gloomy, too. You clear your throat. “I love it when it rains.” He hums, calmly, encouraging you to continue. “It just makes me happy.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” You purse your lips. “I sort of wish I were home. That way I can snuggle near the window and fall asleep to the sound of light drizzle.”
The brunette quirks a brow towards the road. “That sounds nice. Like…really nice.” A pause. “Why can’t you do that here, though?”
Here—here means where you are right now. Here means this place that’s not home. Here is not close to being enough, but he doesn’t figure that one out. You blink, dragging your finger along the pink box sitting on your lap. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” A small shrug. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? There’s always something missing.”
He doesn’t waste a moment in asking. “What do you think that is?”
Taken aback by his inquiry, you let yourself surmise for a second or two before licking your lips. “Maybe a pup. To keep me company”
He semi-frowns, cocking his head to send you a deadpan expression. “A dog?”
Now it’s your turn to frown, sending him a glare. “What were you thinking?”
The red light lets him take focus on you. “Dunno. A boyfriend, maybe?”
You’re sure you’re nearly as tomato red as the light staring at you both. “What? You instantly just assume I don't have one already?”
He freezes. “Well, I, um…t-that’s not what I meant—”
“Look, I know I’m not a guys’ typical ‘dream girl’, but sheesh I’m not that unlovable. At least, I hope not, but now you’re making me second guess. I mean, your opinion must indicate everyone sees me as some sort of lonely widow.”
Oscar shakes his head, adamantly. “I don’t see you as such.” A slow pause. “A lonely widow, I mean. I find your words to not be all that true, really. You’re nice. You’re persevering, You’re beautiful. And you have a good heart.” The light translates back to green, and you’re freakishly thankful, that way he can’t see you burn up. “You could easily be anyone's dream. Whoever makes you think otherwise is a phony.”
It’s getting harder not to laugh—most likely out of skeptic shock—but you refrain. He’s simply being kind with you, but that doesn’t stop you from nearly going into cardiac arrest. His words should have been labeled with a warning. 
“Guess this world is filled with lots of phonies.”
He scoffs. “There shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to a girl like you.”
Your breath catches. “Os—”
All of a sudden, the car comes to a harsh stop, sending you flying, but not the Australian, who remains sitting up straight. An older man flips him off before riding off on his bike. You both breath hard, turning to face each other. 
“Are you okay?” he questions, voice laced with worry. 
You nod, slightly dazed. “I, um—yeah. Are you?”
A nod. “I didn’t even see where he came from.”
A weak laugh finally erupts. “Blame it on the poor innocent man— clever.”
Brown eyes soften. They flicker from your orbs back to your pouty lips. He’s only checking if you’re okay, of course. You send him a reassuring bow and he releases a heavy breath. 
“Guess I was too focused on my blind spot, once again.”
The next decision comes when you opt in to join your neighbor, Mr. Lennon, for a cup of tea after he finds you shivering. By that time, it’s raining hard, you're soaking wet, and it only makes sense to accept his kind offer. 
“Mint. To hopefully push back any upcoming cold. God, what were you thinking?”
You let out a laugh. “Not much. That’s why I was aimlessly roaming.”
“What about now?”
You halt, mug raised up to your chapped lips. “What about now?”
He smiles, softly, mixing his own tea with a heavy spoon of honey. “Did the walk help? Were you able to get the wheels rolling?”
Now you giggle loudly. “That’s not very nice! The wheels are working just fine, thank you very much.”
The light scent of pine trees enter the room as soon as he stands up to open his window, the sound of soft rain singing to you as some much needed therapy. “So? What were you pondering about out there?”
“I wasn’t pondering.”
“Walking alone in the middle of a thunderstorm?” A sore laugh. “Been there. Done that. There’s always something on someone’s mind when that happens. Which isn’t often, or usual, so that must mean you’re really stuck up on something.”
“Or someone,” you mumble beneath your breath. His brows dart up, and you sheepishly settle the mug down. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
You blink. You don’t really talk about him out loud. Not with Lando. Not with Anastasia. Not even with your own reflection. Everything has always remained with you. A place you knew to be safe because you made it safe. But Mr. Lennon’s eyes prove to you that he’s lived enough lives—enough scenarios—to maybe understand. Even just a fraction. He watches you visibly gulp. And he knows that look. The confusion, the yearning. 
“I’m in love with this boy.”
He hums, leaning back against his wooden chair. “There’s always a boy.”
You look down. “He’s a friend of mine, which makes everything much worse because I can’t ruin that. But for the first time in all my years of living…” Round, glossy eyes stare back at him with a hopeless expression. “I really—really—want to.”
He’s attentive, he listens like some frozen statue, and maybe that’s what fuels your courage to continue speaking. “My entire life, I’ve had crushes, sure, but I’ve never loved someone. Not seriously. So, of course I’m caught off guard when I do feel that for someone who I’m not even in a relationship with.” A playful snort. “God, I feel so stupid.”
The silence that lingers is comforting. Your nerves flow away with the rain, and you feel at peace. Quietly, he clears his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”
A soft sigh. “I’m all ears.”
Gray brows furrow as if trying to recover a distant memory. “I once loved a boy, too.” Your eyes widen. Sure, you knew he was never married, never even had a kid, but you never thought of any reason as to why not. He nods, faintly. “Not many know, and not because I’m ashamed, not by any means…” A single beat. “But because real, sincere feelings are easier to ignore. Because who wants to deal with reality, right? Who wants to confess and be turned away like some dog at your door?”
Exactly, you think, nodding along. “Everyone is always going to be scared of something, but avoidant people like us are terrified about the what-ifs.” He sends a wink. “And I’m living proof that being that way won’t get you nowhere. And you'll realize sooner or later in life that you’d rather be nowhere with someone you love, than nowhere…” His eyes circle the nearly empty kitchen, despite living there for the past twenty years. “...all alone.”
Your chin wobbles. “You know you have me, right? I’m always next door.” A wet laugh follows. “Anyways, I might even join you in this lonely life, eh? Doesn’t sound half bad if I’m doing it with you.”
Tender eyes close slowly before blinking back at you. “No. I want you to be the complete opposite from me. Be different. Tell him how you feel. Even if it costs you a broken heart, tell him. Because I’m telling you right now that a broken heart is always better than the constant desire that will always follow you like the devil.”
A warm droplet rolls down your cheek as you sheepishly laugh, but he doesn’t judge. He never has. Instead, ever the true gentleman, he hands you his handkerchief. “Did you ever get the chance to tell him that you…”
His wrinkles imprint more vividly as he breathes out. “I did, but it didn’t really make the difference I had hoped for. He was already married to someone else.”
A loud sob escapes. “That’s not f-fair. You deserve to be happy with the man you love.”
“I do. But you know what?” You rub the tears away, eyes connecting. “I’ve made peace with the consequences of my own actions.”
By now the rain has died down, and so have you. With one last smile, Mr. Lennon gives your cold hand a soft squeeze.   
“Learn from my mistakes, won’t you?”
-
That same night, as you cried over a bottle of wine, you made your third and final decision. And you would execute it all the next time you saw him, no matter the outcome. 
But now that you spoke about it once to someone, you felt almost invincible. Which is why you called Lando. 
You what? 
A wince. “You can’t tell him, okay? I’m legitimately trusting you with this!” He opens his mouth, but you’re quick to signal him off. “Including Ana.”
“Wow. I thought she’d know.” You shrug because you don’t really have an explanation for not having had confided in her, but you know deep down that you’re not really into playing a game of Cupid, and that’s exactly what she'd turn this into. The Brit nods, sympathetically. “Alright. I won’t tell a single soul.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”
His question comes out hesitant—like he’s afraid of scaring you away from the possibility—but it doesn’t. Instead, you nod, to which he’s extra surprised because you’ve never been the kind to. “That’s the main reason I told you any of this. Because I wanted to ask you if you knew if he has a girlfriend or not? Someone he’s trying to pursue? I’d hate to…intervene.”
Lando let’s put a soft smile, dimples imprinting neatly onto his face. “I mean, he’s particularly private—you know him—but I’ve never heard him mention having a girl. It doesn’t seem like he does. Go for it. What do you have to lose?”
“My dignity? A good friend?”
Silently, he grimaces because even he can see how much this all means to you—how much you’re scared. So, to boost up your confidence—which is something he definitely doesn’t lack—he flashes a loopy grin. “He probably likes you, anyways.”
You come to a fast halt. Suddenly, painting your nails isn’t your top priority. “Really? You think so?” He nods, and you can’t help but smile back. “What’d he say?”
“Well, as I already stated before, he keeps his things locked up pretty well. But I do recall one time…” He closes his eyes harshly. Then, he snaps his fingers loudly. “I believe in Hungary. He was on a high. And we shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate. So, he sort of let loose. Like insanely loose.”
“And?” you push, eagerly trying to get whatever he has stuck in his throat out of him. The green eyed boy snickers. 
“He wasn’t very clear, but he did say he had a crush on a girl. Someone he really wanted to get to know. But that  things were a little bit difficult.” You nod, urging him to continue. “I asked why, and he said it was because she had a good heart, or something of that sort? Good intentions? Can’t remember—and that he didn’t want to ruin it.”
Your breath hitches.
And you have a good heart. You could easily be anyone’s dream. 
-
Ironically, you’re huddled in Lando’s flat once again when it happens. Well. Almost happens. It’s filled with a few McLaren members because he insisted on hosting a nice brunch. And it was. Nice, you mean. 
“Pretty,” Anastasia says, sending a soft smack towards your ass. You yelp, swatting her hand away, and pulling your skirt downward. She snickers. “You should tie your hair up more often. Let’s everyone admire such an angel face.”
“Stop it,” you hiss, but can’t hide the pink flush. “But thank you.” 
She grins, eyes crinkling. Black hair sways as she moves to the beat of the music, nursing her drink. “Nice to have a break…”
“Definitely.”
At some point, she slithers away, leaving you all alone on the balcony. Which was quite lonesome until he came along. Oscar scrunched his nose, meekly. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright. Don’t own this place, do I?”
He lets off a raw chuckle. Deeper than when you first met him, and you come to the realization that a lot about him has changed. His hair is longer, his neck is thicker, and his shoulders are wider. But his smile and eyes remain the same. Boyish.
“Thinking?”
You sigh, admiring the ocean set out right in front of you. “Thinking, yes. A lot these days.”
And if he’s patient enough, he’d notice the way your hands shake. Tiny vibrates, but still.. He’d notice the way you bite down on your lip, brushing it along the way. He’d notice the way you blink feverishly, like even the wind hurts. 
And he is. He is a patient person. So, he does notice. 
“Do you know what song this is?”
Brows furrow, deep in thought. And he’s quick to note that the ticks you had are coming to an easy halt. Mentally, though, you’re cursing yourself out because you do know. You do know the song that flows nicely into your ears, but simply having him next to you is what’s making you forget. How dare me have that kind of power over you?
“I know it,” you start. “But I can’t seem to remember right now...”
The brunette gently nods his head along to the beat. His eyes close, and his hair delicately tussles, and suddenly he’s the only thing you see. “Sex,” he says. You blush, ripping your gaze away before he catches you in the act. Oscar laughs. “It’s Sex by The 1975. How could I forget?”
“Oh yeah.”
The guitar screeches when the volume somehow gets louder, despite not being inside. “Would have killed me not to get it right. My sister listens to it all the time.”
Plump lips pressed together. “You have a sister?” But you know the answer to that question, of course you do. You’re a girl. You’ve done your research, even when you pinched yourself not to. 
He nods. “Three, actually. Talk about a headache, am I right?”
And it’s almost nostalgic—your laugh. Like it might be one he heard in his past life, but in his current one, can't remember. But it’s okay if he doesn’t because at least he knows he can learn it. And he has. 
“You look really pretty when you laugh that way. Insanely so.”
You can’t seem to register his words. The way they come off as soft and ginger as they could possibly get. As if he really means it. And for the first time since your first interaction with him almost two years ago—you sort of believe he might. 
“You’re just saying that?” you question as some test, does eyes challenging him into finally spitting out the truth. The same truth you carry. He shakes his head, taking a step closer.
“I mean it.” 
Like a sudden magnet, you two are hesitantly connecting closer and closer together before either of you could stop it. Not that either of you would. The Australian towers over you, almost caging you like some endangered species he’s afraid of slipping away and going extinct. 
You swallow, lashes fluttering, and he smiles at the sight—melts. You’ve always been reserved. Quiet. Shy. And so has he, so he can’t really judge you, but he’s willing to be different—just once in his life—to get what he’s been wanting for a long time now. 
His eyes follow your lips. Admires how plump they are. How they’re the perfect shade of pink. So, when he leans in and you don’t pull away? He thinks he might explode with the need to kiss you. One time. If he’s lucky, just—once. 
“You’ve always been my dre—”
“There you two are!” Anastasia cheers, zigzagging to you both as an apologetic Lando follows right after. By now, Oscar has jumped far away from you, and you’re left feeling empty and lost, blinking at an alarming rate. “We’ve been looking all over!” A hiccup. “What were you doing?” Your lips remain open but Oscar is the first to let out an awkward cough.
“We were just talking about…logistics!” He turns to you, sparing you a pleading look. “W-weren’t we?”
You finally come to, nodding slowly, eyes buzzing between the two McLaren drivers and your best friend, who wobbles from left to right. “Yeah, I….we—logistics, and whatnot.” A beat. “Doesn’t matter.”
He flinches, avoiding your doleful stare. Oscar forces such a bright smile—the kind that can’t go unnoticed by even the biggest idiot on earth—and nods in agreement. “She’s right. It doesn’t matter.”
Lando analyzes you, then his teammate, and wishes he had done more to keep Anastasia from barging in. But really, was this some sign? Maybe you were some delusional little girl who truly believed she had a chance with the boy next door. The one everyone wants, but only one will get to have.
And let’s face it. 
It was never going to be you.
-
You’d make an excellent detective in your next life, you’re sure of it. But for now, you’re just some brokenhearted assistant who mourns the death of her what-ifs. Someone who is really good at picking up on clues. 
It’s right before Christmas—right before Anastasia’s birthday party—and you’re curling your hair quite poorly. You daze off every now and then, you apply mascara almost zombie-like, and you’re dreading even showing up. Have you been avoiding him? Yes. Yes, you have. Have you been good at it? Only the best, if we’re being truthful here. And were you ready to face him without feeling the need to bolt? 
Nope. Not in this lifetime nor the next.
But still, you force yourself to finish getting ready because this isn’t about you. This isn’t about him. It’s about being there for your friend. 
Mindlessly, on the drive there, pouting in the back of the yellow cab, you click onto Instagram and the first thing you do is smile at the birthday post Anastasia had posted not even five minutes ago. You scroll, smile wider, and then come to a harsh pause. The kind that makes your throat close up. The kind that makes you stop breathing. 
The kind that lets you know—
You’ve lost.
His arms are tied around her waist, his head nuzzles between her neck, but you can still tell it’s him. His hazel hair can’t go unnoticed. Maybe to someone else, but not you. 
Then, as if all odds are against you, your feed refreshes and you’re left far more dumbfounded. 
She appears in most of his pictures because why not? It’s his girlfriend's birthday, it goes as expected. Museum dates. Pictures of them with each other's families. And you feel greedy like never before because—why couldn't that be you? 
Venmo or cash? You look up, making eye contact with your taxi driver who looks as tired as you are. You press your lips together into a fine line. Digging into your purse, you grab all that you have and jump out of the cab. 
It’s chilly out and the lights are beautifully hung, but it doesn’t do you any good. You just want to go home. Curl up in bed and die. Dig a hole—self-suffocate—who cares. And you’re ready to turn around, go back and apologize to Mr. Lennon for not doing better. You really thought you had it in you, but it just wasn’t enough. 
But then, the door swings open and Pierre curls a brow. Kika waves from behind “He thought you were some serial killer. He’s been watching too much Dateline.” The brunette scurries over, throwing her arms around you and takes a step back. “Come in before you freeze to death.”
But even that didn’t sound too bad. You sheepishly thank her, following the couple back in. A string of jazz cradles the warm lit living room and the scent of apple pie makes you inhale sharply. A giggle stirs up behind you. Anastasia grins.
“You’re here!”
All of a sudden, you hate her smile. You hate her laugh. You hate her entirely. But you also don’t. You can’t hate her smile. You can’t hate her laugh. You can’t hate her entirely. Because even though you feel like she owes you loyalty, that’s not really true. She had zero idea about your feelings towards Oscar and she won. Fair and square. That doesn’t mean you had to like it.
“Happy birthday, Annie.” Hugging her, you giggle against her ear when she jumps up and down, nearly knocking you two over. “For you. From me.”
She wiggles her neat brows, green eyes buzzing with suspicion. “Is it a vibrator again?”
You blush. “No. Even better.”
“Wow! Even better?” She rips the small bag open, eyes widened double in their size. “Oh my God, you got me the Mary Jane’s I wanted?”
“Well, you kept bugging me, and so I thought—”
“D'accord, je comprends. I love them, thank you.” Grabbing your wrist, she tugged you into the empty hallway, and you can already feel her buzzing with excitement. Your stomach churns. “I wanted to tell you as soon as he asked me out—I really did—but he insisted on keeping it between us two for a while, and I told him no, I had to tell you, but then I understood that maybe it was for the best, and I’ve always liked him—”
Every word makes you feel smaller and smaller because the light in her eyes gives it all away. She, too—much like you—is in love with Oscar Piastri. You shake your head, sharing a light laugh. “I totally get it. There’s no need to explain.” 
The green eyed girl visibly relaxes, shoulders rolling back. “I knew you’d understand. Oscar was right—you have a good heart.”
Ana, Yuki just spilled wine on your coach, Daniel rattles from the other side of the room, pointing accusingly towards his teammate who rubs the cushion with his Dior sweatshirt. She sighs. Be right back!
At that moment, you don’t care if you wind up with a deadly case of hypothermia, you simply walk out of the warm house.
“What are you doing? You’re going to get sick.”
Screwing your eyes shut seems to be the only answer to help your mending heart into not breaking completely. And fuck him—fuck him for sounding so goddamn caring. 
You turn with a soft smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Won’t really make a difference, I already feel sick.” You cough for emphasis. “See?” Oscar rolls his eyes, ignoring the poor excuse, and hands you his puffer jacket. You shake your head. Take it. “No.” He frowns. Why not? Rocks crunch with every step he takes. “It wouldn’t be right.”
“What? Borrowing a jacket from a friend?”
“Borrowing my best friend's boyfriend’s jacket.”
His stomach drops, rolling with a wave of anxiety as he tries to not show his uncomfort. “She told you?”
Your teeth grind harder. “That, and you both posted about a thousand pictures together. Wasn’t that difficult to understand what was going on.” A sore laugh. “I’m happy for you two, though. Really. I am.”
“You are?”
Sending a nasty glare that you tried to keep in for the life in you, you turn over to face him, nose rosy. “Yes. Over the fucking moon.”
He flinches. “Listen, about that day at Lando’s house. I-I-I was caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have said what I said, o-or tried to kiss you—”
“You’re a phony, you know that, right?”
Another flinch. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I feel bad, okay?”
Tears well up inside your eyes. Somewhere deep inside your chest, you feel a harsh sting, and still that doesn’t compare to his pity. You let out a scoff, crossing your arms. “You feel bad, for what? For messing with my emotions, or for getting with my best friend?” You poke his chest hard, but he remains as still as a brick wall, a pained expression mapped out. “Which one is it?”
“For all of it!” He grabs your face, making you freeze under his fire-like touch. “I loved you—God—I loved every inch of you. Your humor, your heart, your jokes that never land, the awkward giggles that follow afterward—everything. There was not a single thing you could do that could have pushed me away.”
“Then what happened?” you whisper, eyes tracing his pink lips, trying to enjoy his hands. They’re calloused, sure, but they’re by far the closest thing you’ve had, so nothing else matters. His breath hitches, soft eyes looking down at you in complete defeat. You grimace. “Why was I not enough for you to try?”
His hands drop. Brown locks shakes as he rubs his eyes, like this is all some part of a fever dream. Maybe it was. The Australian frowns. “I could ask you the same thing.”
It’s a slap in the face, and it burns like never before because you know he’s right. “I wanted to tell you!” A shaky breath. “I was going to tell you.”
Leaves rustle. “You were?”
“Yes,” you confess, nodding adamantly. “That day at Lando’s place—I wanted to tell you.”
The McLaren driver bites his tongue hard, blinking rapidly. “W-what would you have said?”
“That I loved you too.”
He can’t hide his pain just by hearing those words. He scrunches his nose. He nods robotically. And he keeps his eyes trained towards the ground, like he’s in the middle of solving a puzzle. 
“I really did like you. From the moment we met.” Finally, he looks up, round eyes searching for any sign of intimacy. If there’s any left—any you still save for him. “Do you remember the day we first met?”
“A little bit. Yeah.”
A second ticks by. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often.” He lets out a boyish grin, crinkles forming, making your heart flutter. “You took my breath away.” 
And as if humanly possible, despite the icy air, your cheekbones flush harder as you bite back a giddy smile. “You barely even noticed me—”
“You wore a white ribbon. Hair half up, half down. Denim overalls with your initials sewn onto them. Emerald earrings.” You blink, clearly taken aback by his polished memory. His eyes soften. “I’ll always notice you.”
-
Anastasia pecks the Australians cheek, giggling after each one. Oscar smiles, letting out a sheepish laugh. From the corner, seated next to Lando, you sigh sadly. The Brit bumps his shoulder up against yours. What’s wrong? But you must not have heard him, or you ignore him, but he, too, has eyes. 
“I swear I didn’t know a thing about them,” he whispers. “If I had, I would have warned you, you know that—”
“Lando,” you cut him off, voice weak and mellow. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”
He frowns. “I know that, but—”
“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time more firm. He swallows, nodding hesitantly. With a soft laugh, you poke his ribs and he’s quick to let out a yelp. “Just want to forget, you know?”
Lando hums. “Understood.”
Anastasia clinks her spoon against her mug. The one you each painted differently in that one pottery class years ago. She grins. “I’m so glad all of you could make it, really, it means a lot.” Her eyes crinkle sweetly towards Oscar who traces shapes down her back. She blushes for him—the same way you do. “I feel like…I finally have everything I ever wanted.”
A string of oohh's echo the room, whistles ringing. She laughs, head falling back, and he lets out a single chuckle, rosy cheeks making everyone grow louder. Meanwhile, you stay silent, focusing on Lando’s shoes. The Brit winces, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. 
Daniel yodels, raising his beer. “Well, in that case, I feel like I do too!” He hiccups, making Pierre and Yuki snicker. “A hot girlfriend, good ‘ol friends, and a nice pair of abs.”
“They are nice,” Lily mumbles, earning her a soft smack from Alex who rolls his eyes. 
Carlos cackles. “Me next—um, okay. A good team, my girlfriend, and…and—my hair.”
“Narcissist,” Lando whispers, trying to get a good laugh out of you. And it works. You giggle, muffling the sound with the back of your hand. Oscar perks up, orbs floating over to where you and the Brit whisper to one another, smiles only growing wider. His jaw clenches. Either way, you tune out all the constant chatter after hearing how Pierre was grateful for having a massive cock. 
“I really hope nothing changes between us.”
You laugh. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”
The Australian scratches his shoes against the wet pavement. He agrees. He won’t admit it, but he agrees. Everything has changed. Timidly, he glances over at you, biting the inside of his cheek. His gaze burns—just like always—and you turn to face him.
By now your tears have dried, but your heartbreak still continues. Something deep inside tells you that it’ll continue for as long as you live. You despise yourself for letting any of this get out of hand. For letting your fear of rejection play a big part in losing him. He smiles.
“I love you, okay?”
You smile. “I love you, too.”
Your voice sounds sweet—just like honey. And if it’s a lie, just to make him feel better, then he’s a grateful bloke. He might not have your heart—not completely—and he might not have your hand in his, but he’s fine with that. Because he’s heard all he’s needed to hear. And he can live at peace.
Oscar grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. It’s tender, just the way you pictured it. You smell like flowers, just like he had dreamt. He pulls away. “You can always talk to me. Whenever. I’ll always be there for you.”
“Thank you. But I won’t bother you too much.” His brows furrow, mouth opening to protest before you wave him off with a tired smile. “Don’t want to vent to you about…well—you.”
“What about you?” Anastasia squeals, making your jump in place. 
“What about me?” 
She rolls her eyes, theatrically. Oscar remains as still as a statue, enjoying the moment to admire you without having to explain why—all eyes were on you, after all. “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?”
Wistfully, your eyes look up, connecting with the ones you know so well. You admire his boyish features one last time before looking down onto your lap and then focusing on Anastasia.
“No. But I once got very close.”
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frenziedfireworks · 1 year ago
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Lost Games
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Fred Weasley x Reader
Summary : Gryffindor loses their match and you have to deal with the aftermath.
CW : SMUT, 18+ Characters, f!reader, breeding & degrading kink, spanking, angry!fred, slight dubcon ? (idk), panty gag, sexy time with a lil bit of plot
A/N : tumblr hates me and uploaded my shit weird so heres try 2... also angry fred is awooga
masterlist
You knew it was going to be a rough night. With Gryffindor losing their quidditch match that always meant you would have to deal with an unhappy Fred. 
You had dusted off your jeans and made your way down to wait for Fred. The moment his red hair peeked around the corner you opened your arms. He yanked you up into his hold and began walking. 
“Fred! Put me down!” You smacked against his shoulder and the boy just grunted.
“No.” Was the only response you got as you squirmed in his arms. It didn’t take long for Fred to get to where he wanted to be, finally planting you on your feet in an abandoned classroom.
“Fred I’m sorry about-“
“Shut up. I don’t want to talk about that pathetic fucking game. Just be quiet and good for me, yeah?” Fred pushed your form against one of the desks, hungry lips attacking yours at mach speed. You gasped into the kiss surprised at his ferocity. 
“Fred-“
“I thought I told you to be quiet. Or do I need to shut you up myself?” Fred delivered a harsh slap to your thigh and you squealed in surprise. You had always known him to have a temper when things didn’t go his way but you had never seen him this worked up. It was indescribably hot. His fingers trailed over your waistband, lips lapping and biting at whatever skin he could get ahold of. 
“I'm taking these off.” Fred ripped at your jean zipper and pulled the fabric down. The cold air made your skin tingle and you were suddenly aware of the wet spot on your panties. Fred’s smirk grew as he noticed, finger trailing lightly over the spot. You felt your body jolt at the touch and you gripped onto his arms.
“So wet.. How naughty.” He clicked his tongue and his finger dipped into the fabric. A moan left your lips before you could understand what was going on. His dark eyes watched you as his finger rubbed your sensitive nub, waiting for any sound you would make. 
He seemed satisfied with his work, finally pulling down your undergarments. He shuffled your panties into his pocket and went back to his brutal attack. His fingers plowed their way through your folds before he inserted two digits into you. The sensation left you speechless as you threw your head back. Wanton moans slipped through your lips as he began pumping his fingers back and forth. His pace got harsher the closer you got and then it was gone all at once. 
“What-“ You started and were met with a harsh hit to the clit. A small scream erupted from your throat and you were sure that if Fred wasn’t so good at hiding the whole school would’ve heard you.
“I fucking told you to be quiet and you just won’t stop. I really do have to do everything myself.” Fred pulled your mouth open and shoveled fabric into it. You smacked at his arms, confused and shocked at the intrusion. 
“Maybe you’ll enjoy the taste of yourself while I ruin this poor pussy of yours. Bet it gets your sick mind off.” Fred’s hands shook desperately to get his pants off, yanking at the materials confining him. Your hole pulsed around nothing, his crude words and anger making you more and more aroused.
“Fuck me..” Fred’s head threw back as his cock slapped against his stomach. Your groans were muffled through your panty-gag as he spat in his hand and gave himself a few starting pumps.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” Is the only words you heard before he was everywhere. His cock slipped through your wet folds and bullied its way inside of you. He only waited a few seconds before beginning to pound away. His pace was cruel and his words were even more demeaning. It was aggressive and hot, only adding to the growing tension in your stomach.
“Fuck. You were built to take me. Going to fill you up and keep going. Bet you’d like that you little fucking slag.” Fred’s hand whipped at your hip and pulled you into him even harder. His grip would definitely leave bruises tomorrow but in the moment you couldn't care less. His face was filled with fury, each thrust taking out the anger from the failed game. Your body was a rag doll in his arms being used for his pleasure. 
You could feel his pace getting erratic, both of you coming close to your highs. Fred’s thumb came down to your nub rubbing small circles to push you just over the edge. Your subdued screams filled the air as you clenched around his cock, your nails digging into his back. Fred continued to fuck you through your high, chasing for his escape.
“Fuck! You’re so fucking tight. I’m gonna fill you up. Take it like the good whore you a-are.” Fred’s voice cracked as his spasms staggered and white ribbons of cum filled you. You rolled your eyes back and pulled your sopping underwear out of your mouth.
“Wow.” Is all you could breathe out as Fred’s head dropped to your shoulder. Your fingers ran soothing circles on the back of his neck as he calmed down.
“Wow is right love. Sorry if I was a little rough..” Fred shrugged awkwardly, pulling himself out of you. You couldn’t help but giggle. The same man had been degrading you not even five minutes ago and now can barely look you in the eyes?
“You’re good. I didn’t expect you to be so mad. Maybe you need to lose more often.” You winked at the boy and he grinned.
“Absolutely not. I always win. But if you want me to fuck you like that more often that can definitely be arranged.” Fred left a few pecks to your cheeks as he handed you your jeans. You smiled and returned the favor.
“I’d love nothing more Weasley.”
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dark-konohagakure2 · 5 months ago
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hii, can i request noncon madara capturing tobiramas virgin daughter during a battle and then using her as his personal slave? sorry if this isnt a request you're comfy writing !
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tw: noncon, age difference, size difference, kidnapping, enslavement, abuse, breeding, rough sex, degradation, sadism
All characters depicted are 18+
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There are very few people that Madara can claim to loathe with his entire being, but if he had to pick one person, it would be Tobirama Senju. Not only had the man constantly discriminate against his clan, but he was also responsible for Izuna's death. Now Madara wants vengeance, and he already has the perfect plan to make Tobirama feel the same pain as him.
During the Uchiha's next battle against the Senju, his main target is not Tobirama, but his daughter, and capturing such a weak girl is almost laughably easy. Madara thinks it's only fair, Tobirama stole someone he loved, and now Madara will steal somebody he loves.
Despite his stoney face, internally Madara feels as giddy as a child on Christmas morning, he now has his hands on not only Tobirama's daughter but Hashirama's niece as well, and he has complete and total power over her, and he plans on using that to his full advantage.
Once he has her in his grasp, Madara will do everything in his power to strip her of all her human dignity, stripping her of her clothes, slapping her around, and treating her like less than dirt, tearing her apart with his harsh words and razor sharp tongue as he makes use of her.
"Shut your mouth you Senju whore. This is what you deserve for having such tainted blood running through your veins, so be quite before I rip your tongue out."
Madara is very rough with his newly acquired slave, holding her down roughly with his bigger body, using his full weight to force her thighs against her chest as he ruthlessly claims her virginity, almost animalistic with the intensity he employs as he breeds her.
He is a much bigger and stronger man than most, so Madara can easily hold her down or lift her up as he takes advantage of her. He'll twist and bend her body in uncomfortable positions to increase her pain and his own pleasure. Madara doesn't care about her comfort, he believes that she deserves every bit of suffering she gets for daring to be a Senju.
Madara doesn't just use her for sex, but for labor as well, making her do demeaning tasks such as cleaning the blood off his weapons and armor whenever he returns from another one of his "dances", he'll even gloat to her during this, telling her with relish about how the very blood she's cleaning off of him is the blood of her fellow clansmen.
Whenever Madara is done with her, he leaves her broken and bruised everytime, his seed leaking out of her holes and her body trembling in equal parts fear and pain. Madara enjoys her pain, knowing that he's not only hurting the girl herself, but her father as well by proxy.
"Does it hurt? Good. That's just a fraction of the suffering your damned father caused me when he killed my brother. Get used to it, bitch. This is your life now..."
Madara sees this as a twisted form of justice in a way. Tobirama took a family member from him, so Madara will simply make himself a new one, and he'll use that Senju bastard's own flesh and blood to do so, the thought of having a half Senju child both disgusting and exciting Madara.
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bg3-npc · 11 months ago
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Is Theo Soloman (Wyll's voice actor) the ONLY employee through Larian that actually likes Wyll????? Like, I loved the writing for Wyll and felt bad that his writer didn't get to create more and develop him further.
That response to the article though?? It's one thing to not take your characters seriously all the time when you've made it clear you care about them. It's another when a majority of fans are extremely hostile to them and your response is to laugh at a joke made at their expense. You're telling those fans, "Hey keep antagonizing them, it's not only deserved but funny."
If he came to Wyll's defense no one would take note, but joining in on the mocking of him only makes the aggressive (and extremely racist) fans feel vindicated in their treatment of Wyll. You're adding fuel to the fire.
Theo is the only one who (when even invited to speak) talks about Wyll with care and sincerity. He's the only one that when he does poke fun at Wyll, obviously comes at it from a place of love and understanding for the character. Never from a place of indifference or carelessness.
Theo Soloman thank you for everything you have done and continue to do for Wyll. I'm so sorry the people who made your job exist only ever invalidate and demean your work.
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Okay, I actually really like this. And I can say why.
"But Dana isn't it hypocritical to Like Lunar's 'villain arc' while disliking Nexus's?"
Not really. Because what Lunar is doing is consistent with his character. Which is, entirely selfish motivations as he has always had before, and I'll explain Lunar's motivations and why he makes a better compelling villain arc. And who knows, maybe Lunar will rush back and say he's sorry after one or two episodes when Nexus didn't.
But Nexus/N!Moon grieving over someone he loved, everyone assuming he's evil and them making a heel turn into 'irredeemable evil' I didn't like because it was contradictory to the past year we spent with N!Moon and unintentionally felt like it villainized grieving in an ugly way. And I've expressed the dislike of All of Nexus's worst fears coming true. He believes his family doesn't understand, they treat him like villain immediately. He thinks he's easily replaceable and not as talented as the Old Moon. Old Moon comes back, replaces him, is accepted immediately and was proven to be intellectually superior to N!Moon. He thinks he's broken that he's beyond repair and can't be fixed. Earth gave up on him really quickly despite being aware of his coping mechanisms (lashing out) (even before the "collateral damage" thing) Ruin lied and manipulated him and killed Solar. Nexus never wanted to be manipulated again.... D!Sun put the plans in place that he was the perfect pawn in an interdimensional sacrifice to get the outcome he wanted. Nexus wanted his family to join him and understand him. No one understood him and he died at the hands of his own brother.
Nexus died with all his worst fears and nightmares confirmed true. It's honestly tragic and horrible.
NOw.... Lunar. Getting into this little bean. Has a far more compelling reason to be corrupted by Negative star power. That is consistent with his character and just doesn't replace Lunar with... Lexus or something.
So Lunar was just told recently by Taurus and Gemini, that he has reached the precipice of his training and neither will train him anymore. With his mental block on his trauma and Eclipse and just apathetic to everything, he can't tap into his emotions or power. Understandably, Lunar is frustrated by this and feels no one is listening to him and feels his partner is being demeaning (they're not. And it's not about him. But Lunar is to selfish to get that.)
People often don't understand that Gemini does not try to be intentionally demeaning to Lunar. They do not have human emotions like we do, or even the animatronics do. They operate at a different level beyond our human comprehension, So I don't place Astrals into mortality boxes. And Lunar, is still a very childish and selfish character, and seems to not understand their partner. Even if they do like them a whole lot. They just don't understand them at a fundamental level. It's hard to have an emotional connection to someone who doesn't have human emotions, (or who is just starting to feel emotions in small doses but that's just a theory) and Lunar does not have the patience or emotional maturity to deal with someone who operates like that.
So Rez puts it out there for Lunar to get stronger then they are willing to train him and SO OF COURSE Lunar would jump at that because he feels infantilized and has felt that way by his partner for a long time. Keep it in mind, Gemini does not do this intentionally, and makes this clear to Lunar MANY TIMES over the entire course of the year they have been interacting.
Not to mention, Sun killing Nexus disturbed something across dimensions. It's as I said when Nexus first turned to the dark side. It's like all Moon's destiny is to inherently be doomed by ambition. Lunar included in that. Lunar following in Nexus's footsteps. Because those who don't know their history are doomed to repeat it. And Lunar is the prime example. And this is horrible. Maybe it's hypocritical of me to like Lunar's heel turn into a Sasuke arc. But this is on a path of destiny that needs to break. And that's why I think I find it a bit more compelling from a character motivation and writing stand point. So. Yes. Lunar abandoning his family when they need him. Horray!!!
I think I just like it because it is consistent with all of Lunar's characterization up to this point. And because he did not care or know what was going on with Nexus, he will get corrupted by the NSP too. Who knows, maybe Lunar will gain a new found sympathy for Nexus knowing how Dark Star Power fucks with your head and insecurities.
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ellecdc · 7 months ago
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Nsfw!
Moonwater is a bit new pairing for me and i love it too much but i always wonder how the dynamic are in the bedroom, i really dont think both men are anything other than rough.
I mean when needed the boys would be gentle but most of the time i dont think so? Remus, maybe? could be gentler but during full moon he’s an animal but regulus tho, i dont see him as the gentle type.
What do you think?
oooou ok ok I like it, I like it; let's discuss below
CW: discussing sex and dynamics, NSFW, mdni 18+
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So, this first part is going to be my own personal opinion based off of who I am as a person, and my views may not be shared within the fandom. I personally struggle with super abrasive dom/sub dynamics where a male character is very overbearing, controlling, etc. THAT DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T LIKE ANY DOM/SUB DYNAMICS, just that fics where a male character is being super aggressive and demeaning and such really aren't my vibe, if that makes sense?
I personally struggle imagining our sweet, sad boy Remus as being super mean in bed? Doesn't mean I don't think he's in charge, especially in poly!scenarios because when there's that many people in bed, someone has to run the show lol, but I don't see him as super bossy and assertive.
Now, keeping in mind that this is my interpretation on a character who literally doesn't exist (which is so sad wtf), my version of 'dom!remus' looks more like a very assured, confident guy in bed; he knows what he's doing, he's good at it, and he knows how to get everyone where they're trying to go (i.e., orgasm city, obviously). He takes care of everyone in bed, and (in the case of poly!marauders or poly!wolfstar) he certainly redirects anyone's naughty (bratty) behaviour (read: sirius), but I think he'd also be super communicative and understanding that it's a dance, not a battle which adds to his assuredness and confidence in bed because people feel safe with him - they know that he knows what he's doing and can let go because they trust him with their safety and their pleasure - and he's in bed with his partner's, not his adversaries.
I've often imagined his love language (how he shows love) to be acts of service and physical touch, which I think goes hand in hand with how he is in bed; when he's in a relationship with these ships, he's making love, not just fucking
HOWEVER.....
I think you're right...some things definitely change around the full moon. I think leading up to the moon (depending on if it was a manic moon or if he was moonsick) there'd be a very noticeable change in him. For manic moons - he'd be a little more desperate, a little rougher (while still being our sweet guy as mentioned above lol), and I think there would be way more sex. He'd be insatiable and obsessed with you; "come on dovey, one more for me, yeah? you're so good, so good for me; i know you can do one more". Good luck trying to pry him from between your legs.
if he was riddled with moonsickness (immediately after every moon or leading up to a bad moon where he is sore and such), i think he might be a bit of a switch? He'd want to be held and cherished and taken care of - he'd nearly cry in awe every time you got on your knees to give him a lazy, gentle blowjob, or if you were in the mood, he'd lay back and let you ride him (he actually loved it - thought you looked beautiful up there)
Now for Regulus lolololololol
No one who grew up in the dynamics Regulus did is vanilla in bed, I'm sorry. (and I come from a place of authority in this - I relate a little too well to Sirius [though not as violent, obviously]). Honestly? I could see Regulus being mean. And not in a super demeaning way that makes you feel small or embarrassed (again, this is my preference), but he takes pleasure in surprising you by suddenly flipping you over and taking you from a different angle. By suddenly and without warning changing the rhythm of his thrusts from soft and slow to deep and punishing. He'd love marking you up - possessive af and making sure everyone and anyone knew that not only were you taken, but you were his. In the same vain, I picture him as a bit of a sadist/masochist but again, not in a super violent or demeaning way. He'd like for the fuck to be a little rough, a little hard; he loves the mixture of pleasure and pain - wants to be bit so hard he bleeds and wouldn't mind doing the same to you if you asked for it. I also think he'd be willing to try a lot of new things in bed, and some of his favourite sex is when you fuck him with a strap [if you're fem or afab].
Together?
I think Rem is still in charge - again, he's confident and assured in the bedroom and everyone trusts his authority and trusts him to keep them safe and satisfied. He would keep Reg from getting too rough or going too hard and would constantly check in to make sure you were still good with everything going on. He'd also be able to satiate any need in Reg regarding his masochistic tendencies. I believe Reg would bottom in the dynamic, but again, I think sometimes depending on the moon and how Rem is feeling mentally - he'd experiment more fluidly with Reg.
I've also mentioned before that I believe Purebloods have a breeding kink and with Remus' animalistic side due to his lycanthropy, that he would too. So I think there would be a lot of using cum as lube, taking turns filling you up with their cum, maybe some snowballing??? jesus christ I'm a sick fuck lmfao. anything to do with cum would send those boys spiralling, "no no babygirl, don't waste it" Rem would coo as he used his fingers to push cum back into your hole. or "whose do you want next, amour? Mine or Rem's?"
And I think you're right, when the time called for it, these boys would be so fucking good at making you feel nothing short of fucking worshipped. The soft, hungry gazes, the lingering and soothing touches, the praises falling from their lips as they gave you everything they got. I'd cry I think; they'd reduce me to tears for sure.
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itgetsdark-x · 1 year ago
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gruff dilf joel and younger snarky reader are sent on a mission out of jackson. they have a rough, long day of constant nitpicking and bitching (done worse by a shared horse). the reader is purposefully pressing his buttons because she wants to make him snap on her. they stop for the night at a safe house with one bed and filthy unprotected sex ensues. joel forces her into submission and her cockiness dissipates. super condescending and demeaning joel. breeding kink, pet names, the works 🙏🏼
A/N: what a return for me… pheewwww, this was hot to write ngl. I loved writing Joel as a bit more of an asshole and I just wanna say, I would do anything for snarky, gruff dilf joel… like literally anything. I hope this is okay for you, anon!
Summary: You were a skilled hunter, everyone in Jackson knew that and it often meant that you were sent out with someone just as skilled but not quite as young, Joel Miller.
Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI! Breeding kink, praise kink, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m & f receiving), degrading talk (depends on how u look at it), implied age gap (not specified), just a lot of smut and swearing tbh
Characters: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 7.6k (lol, I’m sorry!)
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Sunlight seeped through the threadbare curtains of your house, the early morning light drowning your soft skin as you slept peacefully. Three loud bangs drew you from your slumber and you let out a groan as you stretched your limbs out, rubbing the remnants of sleep away from your eyes. 
“Get your ass up!” You heard the familiar voice shout from outside and you groaned again, shoving your face into your pillow. 
“Fuck off.” You yelled, knowing the older male would be able to hear you through your open window. 
“Would if I could.” He retorted. “I’m letting myself in through the back. Hurry up, sick of waiting for you.”
You rolled your eyes as you finally sat up in your bed, you heard the male enter your house downstairs and it immediately ignited anger in your bones. You stomped out of bed, grabbing your clothes and begrudgingly dressing yourself.
You gave your appearance a once over in the old mirror that hung pathetically on your walls and sighed at the dark circles under your eyes. After using your bathroom to freshen up, you traipsed down your stairs gruffly and shoved your feet into your worn boots. 
“Why are you here at the ass-crack of dawn, Miller?” You hissed, scowling at the male who sat on your old couch, his dirty boots carelessly resting on the coffee table in the middle of your lounge. 
“Aren’t you a ray of fuckin’ sunshine this morning.” He huffed. “Got a job to be getting on with, Maria and the guys gave me the instructions that we have to go run off some raiders. There’s a safe house half way that we can stay in tonight. Should be an easy job so long as you listen to me for once and get on with it.”
You groaned, loudly, as you bent down to lace up your boots; your old cargo trousers clung to the curve of your ass and thick, muscular thighs as you did so. Joel stood behind you, he couldn’t help but admire as the old material stretched as you moved. 
“Why exactly have I been instructed to work with you?” You shot back, turning to look at the male. 
Joel held a hand out as an offer to help you stand, you shot him a sour look, rolled your eyes and stood without a word. Joel clenched his jaw at your defiant behaviour and gently pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. 
“Do I look like I know, little girl? Look, I don’t wanna be working with you, just as much as you don’t wanna be working with me. So how about you quit your bitchin’, get the job done and go back to being a sour little brat by yourself.”
“God, I fucking hate you, Joel Miller.” You said harshly, shoving past him and bumping him with your shoulder. 
You grabbed your backpack off the floor, it was the one you always used when going on jobs or patrols; it had all your necessities that you kept restocked. You opened your front door, and ushered for Joel to leave your house, he narrowed his eyes at you and walked out. You left behind him and made sure your house was shut up properly before walking down the three steps that lead to your house. 
“Where’s the other horse?!” You asked, ludicrously as Joel swung himself onto the large horse. 
“Only got allocated one, ‘lotta raiders and people sniffing around Jackson at the moment so they got a lot more patrols going on. Sorry kiddo, either you’re hiking all day or sucking it up and getting on with me.” He shrugged, patting the horse gently. 
You sighed deeply to yourself, as if this job or day couldn’t get worse; you had to spend it with Joel Miller on one horse. 
You had known Joel for a while now, since your first day in Jackson in fact. Him and Tommy found you stumbling around outside the gates of Jackson, whilst they were out on patrol, they saw you were injured and luckily, the people of Jackson allowed you to take residence within their community. 
You couldn’t quite pinpoint when this long-standing feud started with the older of the Miller brother’s but it had been going on for sometime. You despised the male, he always acted like he knew what was best when it came to hunting or patrols, whatever he said was the golden way of doing things and it drove you insane. Maybe it was your twisted attraction to the older male that made your stomach twist and settle in deep anger; you hated the way your pulse would race when he was near or the way your eyes would hungrily drink in all the sharp lines of the males features. He was too old to be any good for you, you knew that and maybe, just maybe, that’s why you kept up this pretence of hatred. 
Tommy was a stark contrast of his older brother; he had kind eyes and soft features, he actually cared about other people within the community. Joel on the other hand, he just cared about getting the job done and done right first time so he could get back home to Ellie, the kid he had arrived in Jackson with. You didn’t really care to ask how or why but Ellie, for what it seemed, was a cool kid and that you had spoken to a handful of times. 
“Your choice but we gotta leave now, it’s a 50 mile ride east to the safe house and I don’t expect it to be an easy one.” Joel stated bluntly. 
“Fine. Fucking fine.” You hissed, slinging your backpack onto your back and holding your rifle over your shoulder. 
It was a known fact that you were one of the more skilled hunters and fighters in Jackson; you had been fighting for yourself your whole life, you didn’t have anyone to fight for you or to keep you alive so from a very young age, you had to do it yourself with whatever resources you could find. Joel seemed to hate it, he seemed to hate the fact that you were younger than him and seemingly, knew what you were doing. 
That’s why you always got paired up together; Joel was skilled but older, you were younger and fitter but still on his skill level at handling your firearms. 
You slung yourself onto the horse, holding Joel’s muscular arm for leverage as you steadied yourself on the back of the animal. Your body was pressed tightly to Joel’s, your legs meeting at the front as your torso pressed to his back. He gently kicked the horse and encouraged the animal to move. 
You rode in silence through the town and out of the gates of Jackson. You watched your surroundings carefully, keeping an ear out for any nearby movement; you had heard the stories recently of people not making it back from their patrols. The raiders nearby were increasing and they were getting desperate for a fraction of what you all had in Jackson. 
The peaceful sounds of nature filled your ears as you rode in silence; just the horses’ hooves on the soft ground and noises of nearby wildlife; birds chirped happily and it almost made you spit out a laugh. Those innocent creatures had no idea of the depressing state that the world lived in now, they couldn’t ever know what loss meant; your mind wandered and you felt the bitter acid of frustration rise in your throat. 
“Wanna ease up on your grip?” Joel huffed, snapping you out of your thoughts. 
“What?” You spat before you realised your hands were gripping tightly at his waist; you eased your grip and kept one hand on him to steady yourself whilst your other hand rested on your thigh. “Sorry.” You mumbled sheepishly. 
“What’s causin’ you to have the death-grip on me, anyway? Not normally scared ridin’.” He laughed smugly. 
You shrugged, he felt the jolt of your shoulder so he knew what you did without seeing it. 
“Natures just… funny.” You laughed sourly. “These birds, chirping away and living their normal lives; they ain’t ever known any different whereas we have, y’know. We’ve all lost something, someone and they don’t know shit. Just makes me angry.”
Your voice trailed off at the end, the images of your parents being taken from you when you were just seven years old played in your head like a worn out cassette. It was painful to constantly think of your mother’s screams as she was torn apart. Or the way your father hid you and told you to remain quiet and that was the last time you saw him. 
“Yeah, well, that’s life, kid. It’s shit.” Joel shrugged back.
He never opened up about his loss, about his daughter, he didn’t see the need to. People who were closest to him knew and he remembered the beautiful memories of his daughter, for him, that was enough. He knew the way people whispered about him, he could even see the way some even pointed as he walked by. “There’s Joel Miller, yeah, Tommy’s brother, he’s the one that lost a daughter and turned up with that kid months after Tommy arrived with Maria.”
You didn’t respond to Joel, instead you huffed and went back to taking in your surroundings. You travelled in a, somewhat, comfortable silence for a couple of hours before Joel halted the horse. 
“Why are we stopping? We’re in the middle of the Forrest?” You snapped, finger hovering over your trigger as you scoped out the landscape through your weapon’s scope. 
“Needa eat, piss and you can take charge on leading the next stretch. Problem with that, little girl?” He snapped right back. 
You sighed and reluctantly climbed down off the horse, you took the reins and carefully attached them to a nearby branch so your horse would stay secured whilst you all took a moments rest. 
Joel grabbed food out of his pack and chucked a sandwich in your direction, you quickly caught it with one hand and shot the male a cocky smile. 
“Gotta be quicker than that, old man.” You smirked. 
He rolled his eyes and stretched out his back with a deep groan, he had himself turned away from you as he stretched. You eyes soaked up every inch of the male, from his salt and peppered locks, down to his broad shoulders and down even farther to the subtle curves of his ass and muscular legs. As he stretched a slither of tanned skin was exposed and you mentally cursed yourself for wondering what Joel’s body would feel like under your skilled hands. You couldn’t help as you wondered even further how the male would sound as he came, would it be gruff like his groans as he stretched out his aching limbs or would it sound more tender and soft.
You physically shook your head to rid the mental images that were drowning your mind and you absently took a bite of your food as your eyes still hungrily wandered over Joel’s physique. He turned back to you, catching your eyes and he smirked, knowing full well that he had just caught you checking him out. 
“You alright there, darlin’? Lookin’ a bit flustered.” He chuckled, cockiness dripping from his voice. 
“Fine. Just thinking about Grayson.” You lied. Grayson was your most recent boyfriend, well, fling. You had both agreed to use each other to scratch the itches that your hands didn’t satisfy anymore; he was fairly well known among Jackson, especially to the women there and you knew Joel hated the younger male. 
“Sure.” Joel said, unconvinced but not willing to push the matter any further right now. 
An icy silence fell between the two of you once again, you stared at your food and bitterly ate at it. Your eyes trailed up slowly and bored into the older male as he sat down on the ground to eat; your eyes followed the lines of his legs as he sat until they fixated on his bulge. Jackson was small, people talked, women especially talked. Joel wasn’t one to sleep around carelessly but even when the world had ended, everyone has needs and Joel knew how to fulfil them. You knew he had quite the reputation, apparently he had the equipment and he apparently knew exactly how to use it. 
You finished your food and threw the wrapper to the side, you stretched your legs out with a delicate groan and leant back onto your arms, taking a moment to relax before you had to be cramped up on the horse again with Joel. Your mind wandered once again as the silence between you both persisted, you wondered how Joel’s rough hands would feel; how they would feel wrapped around your throat as his thick fingers fucked into you. Or how his cock would split you open as he pressed you down roughly to take every inch of him. You swallowed thickly, pushing the thoughts down as you gently squeezed your thighs together, trying anything to curb the throbbing between your legs. 
Joel could feel your eyes on him, he could feel the intense stares and he couldn’t help but smirk as he finished up his food; he loved the fact that he could get you all flustered and frustrated by simply just being. It would be a complete lie if Joel hadn’t thought about you in that way but it was a line he hadn’t crossed, mainly because you both couldn’t stop arguing long enough to realise the tension that was thick in the air. 
“We should get going.” You said gruffly, your voice shattering the silence abruptly. “Want to get to the safe house to actually sleep properly. Get your ass up, old man.”
“Old man.” Joel tutted, rolling his eyes. 
He moaned as he arose from the ground, further cementing your comment on his age. You let out a sharp laugh and shot him a smug look as you slung yourself onto the horse. 
“Pass me the reigns.” You said sharply. 
“Please?” Joel asked. 
“Yeah, thanks. Get on or get left behind.” You muttered. 
Joel let out a frustrated sigh and simply passed you the reigns before climbing onto the horse behind you. He shimmed himself into place until he was comfortable, you could feel his thick thighs rub up behind you; you were so close to him now, it felt different than when you were on the back of the horse. You cleared your throat awkwardly and kicked the horse into action. 
The soft sounds of the horses hooves in the mud filled your ears as all your brain could focus on was the feel of Joel grinding up behind you with every move of the horse. He kept a hand on your hip for his stability at times when the terrain proved bumpy. 
You could feel yourself trying to shift in the saddle, feeling grateful every time you felt the seam of your pants rub against your damp core in just the right way. You bit back frustrated groans and the safe house couldn’t come soon enough, you would wait until Joel would fall into his usual slumber to relieve yourself with your own needy fingers. 
-
The ride was long, excruciatingly so and that was only enhanced further by your own frustrations but Joel assured you that the safe house was just up ahead, only a few more miles. The sun was setting and your surroundings were growing darker by the minute, it was made you nervous but you persevered, not letting any weakness show to the older male. 
“What was that?” You muttered, pulling on the horses reigns to halt the animal and you brought your finger up to your lips to hush Joel. 
A twig snapped near you and immediately your hand was on your weapon, pulling the pistol from your thigh holster. 
“Probably just an animal, keep moving.” Joel barked, annoyed at your paranoia. 
“Joel, I’m not a dumb ass, that didn’t sound like an animal.” You snapped back, your voice a harsh whisper. 
You sat there, your eyes still scanning the darkening scene as you held your pistol out and aimed. 
“Shoulda listened to the little girl, old man.” An unfamiliar voice rang out, a silhouette coming into focus as your finger hovered over your trigger. 
“Fuck off, walk away and I won’t shoot your brains out right here.” You spat, pointing the gun in his direction. 
The unknown male whistled, the noise echoed throughout and suddenly, four more men came from the shadows; they were all holding various weapons, some with crow bars, some with bats and the leader, with a large knife. 
“Oh boys, look at her, such a feisty and pretty little thing.” The male laughed, his voice sent sickening chills down your spine. “Whatcha reckon she’s doing with this old guy? Probably fuckin’ him so he don’t kill her.”
You felt your skin crawl and you shot a look over at Joel, your eyes flickered with panic as they looked back over at the men. 
“Let the old man go, take me, I’ll do what you want.” You said quickly, knowing a distraction like that could help. 
Joel looked at you ludicrously and as his hand hovered over his knife that was out of sight of the males. 
“Whatcha say boys? You reckon we could use the pretty little thing… Depends I guess, how used up are you.” He snarled, the other men with him whistling and laughing as the leader spoke. “Wouldn’t want his,” he shot a look at Joel. “Sloppy seconds, don’t want a used up little whore.”
“I-I’m a virgin!” You lied, lowering your gun and slowly getting off the horse. You threw your gun behind you, away from the men and smiled as sweetly as you could. “I’m fresh, I promise. Not used at all.” You held your hands up in surrender.
The leader closed the space between you, with two large strides and he took a few strands of loose hair so he could twirl them in his fingers. He leant down to close the gap between you further and sniffed deeply. You closed your eyes as you cringed internally. 
His fingers gently stroked down your neck and pulled your T-shirt forward so he could peer down your shirt, your stomach flipped with sickness and whilst he was distracted, you landed a hard kick to his groin. He groaned loudly and immediately fell to the floor, you took his knife and without hesitation, plunged it into the side of his neck. 
“Fuckin’ crazy bitch.” He spluttered out as the life slowly drained from him. 
The other men came lurching forward, immediately springing into action and Joel jumped down from the horse, knife in hand to help fight off the others. One of the men scrambled to pick up your gun, they quickly grabbed it and shot at you as you tried to fight him for it, the bullet missed you but managed to graze your thigh. As the loud bang rang loud in everyone’s ears, Joel was able to injure anotjer enough that the rest all dispersed off into the overgrown trees. 
“If I see you again, you’re all fuckin’ dead. Hear me? Dead men fucking walking.” Joel barked as they scampered off, fleeing the scene. 
You breathed deeply, holding your thigh as you fell to the floor; the fabric of your pants was ripped where the bullet grazed your skin. The burning was intense and you hissed as you ripped some fabric from your shirt to wrap around your leg. 
“Let me.” Joel said, kneeling down to help. 
You kicked your leg, pushing the male away from you and you shot him a sour look. 
“I’m fucking fine, leave me alone. I’ve got it. Just get us to the safe house.” You hissed again, standing shakily. 
You bent down to pick up your gun that had been thrown across the ground and you landed a final kick to the two bodies on the ground before clambering awkwardly onto the horse. 
“You’re so stubborn. I’m just trying to help you.” Joel spat, his annoyance evident as he kicked the horse into a fast canter. 
“Fuck off, Joel. Just get us there without getting us killed, yeah?” 
“What do you think I’m doing?!” He bickered back. 
The final stretch of the journey was short, although it felt elongated with the burning in your leg. You arrived at the safe house, looking at the exterior, you should wondered how it could even be classed as a house. It was a sad looking shack, the old and splintered wood of the its exterior looked as if it could give out any second. 
“Is there supplies here? Medicines and what not?” You asked as you climbed off the horse, you tied up her reigns and watched as Joel grabbed the bags off the back harness on the horse. 
“Should be.” He muttered and led the way, he cautiously opened the building and checked out the surroundings; it was dark now and he quickly flicked on the lantern that was situated inside. 
The dull orange glow illuminated the small shack just enough for you to see one old, worse for wear bed in the corner and a small kitchenette area. Joel searched through the cupboards and found bandages and some old disinfectant. 
You sat down on the bed with a groan, flexing your leg as you inspected your wound. He tossed the supplies at you and shut up the building, after giving the outside a final inspection of any nearby activity. 
You had removed your trousers so you could better dress your dirty wound when Joel walked back in, he was pacing the creaky ground and pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. 
“You were fucking stupid back there, with those guys. Could have got yourself killed.” He finally barked. 
“Yeah, well, I didn’t see you with a better plan.” You snapped back, standing after being satisfied with your handy work. 
“Watch your tone with me, kid.” He snarled, getting closer to you. 
“Yeah? Or what? Whatcha gonna do, Miller?” You asked, squaring up to the older male. “I saved our ass back there and all because you were too chicken shit to do anything yourself. And I’m not a kid, so you watch your tone.” You accused, your slender finger landing some jabs into his shoulder. 
“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.” He bit back as he took your wrist with ease into his large hand and held it roughly. 
You winced as he twisted your arm so it was behind yourself now and out of his general area. You took your free hand and shoved the male away from you, he took a couple steps back after stumbling from the force of your shove. 
“Fuck off, Joel. You should just be glad I was there to save your sorry, old ass. You wouldn’t have been able to do shit by yourself.” You hissed in agitation and turned your back to the male. 
You bent down to rummage through your pack until you found the spare set of pants you carried with yourself; you couldn’t see the way the older male’s eyes were fixated on the curve of your ass in your panties or the way his cock twitched in his own pants. 
“Such a brat.” Joel spat. “Such a rude, fuckin’ brat. Someone should teach you some manners.”
You laughed as you stood once more and span to look at the male, your eyes were narrowed and you cocked an eyebrow at him. 
“Oh yeah? Someone should teach me some manners?” You laughed and the male nodded, his hands balled into tight fists as his sides. “And who’s gonna do that? You? Like to see you try, old man.” You laughed once more, it was a condescending and loud noise, and it only seemed to anger the male more. 
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Joel smirked, voice cold and smug. “You’d be purring in my lap in no time, little girl. I see the way you stare at me, or the way you were rubbin’ yourself on the saddle earlier. Pathetic little girl. Should be taught some manners on how to behave properly.”
You lurched at the male, unable to control your anger anymore and you landed a loud slap to his face. 
“You’re such a cunt!” You cursed loudly, shoving past the male. 
He caught your wrist once more in a tight grip and pulled you back until you were stood in front of him again. 
“You’re only angry because I’ve called you out.” He said calmly, his voice still oozing with condescension. 
You opened your mouth to argue, to protest what he was saying but you didn’t have the chance because just as quick as you went to argue, his lips were pressing to yours in a hot and angry kiss. Joel weaved a hand around your throat and gently squeezed it as he kissed you. Your hands pawed at him eagerly, trying to strip any layers of clothing off of him as quick as you could. 
He bit at your bottom lip roughly and you whimpered, almost immediately folding for him. The kiss was filled with all the pining that had surrounded you both for months, even when both of you never realised it; it was angry, hot and full of clashing teeth. It summed the two of you up completely. Still, even now, you were both fighting for dominance to command the exchange. 
“Get on your fuckin’ knees.” Joel whispered against your lips, his hand still wrapped around your throat. 
You wanted to protest and tell him to fuck off, you wanted to snipe back and tell him to do the same but the words weren’t forming and they soon died in your mouth; instead, you were sinking to your knees to obediently look up at the male. Slowly, he released the hand from around your throat and smirked down at you. 
“Well,” he said, raising a brow at you. “You know what to do from here, so fucking do it.” 
You looked at him with narrowed eyes and you opened your mouth to speak, before a sound could even leave he shot you another look, one that warned you to do other wise and you simply shut up. 
You roughly undid his worn trousers, your fingers were trembling slightly and you just prayed that the man above you didn’t notice; you knew you would never live it down. You pulled down the old fabric of his pants and didn’t hesitate to the same with his boxers. His cock sprung upwards, it was hard already and your eyes drank in the curve of his shaft and the way his tip was already leaking a small bead of precum.
You looked up at him with a smirk, it was a smug move and you knew it, clearly he was far more turned on then he cared to admit and that made you feel proud. 
“Whatcha waiting for, princess? Need me to spell it out for you?” He asked, holding your chin roughly to maintain eye contact. “Hm? Need me to spell out for you what it is that you need to be doing now? Poor little baby. I’ve heard some good things about this mouth now why don’t you put it to good use for once, rather than your incessant bitchin’.” Joel growled. 
“Fuck you. Prick.” You argued weakly before obliging. 
Joel still held your chin as he directed your mouth onto his large cock, you opened your mouth wide and slightly stuck out your tongue so his member could slide into the warm crevice with ease. You slowly started to bob your head up and down onto his cock and the male removed the grip from your chin, instead, he wove his thick fingers into your hair; he held on by the roots and tugged roughly to move your head. 
“Fuck.” He groaned deeply, his voice sounding, somehow, even gruffer than normal. “That’s it, good girl. Take my cock, I know you can do better than that.”
You couldn’t deny that the way Joel spoke to you drove your crazier than it should have. Your core throbbed at the thought of having the male inside of you and it drove you to bob your head quicker onto his length, eager to earn more praise from him. 
“Come on, that’s pathetic, little girl. I know you can do better than that.” He pushed your head down harder causing you to gag around him. Spit collected at the corners of your mouth and started to dribble down your chin has Joel controlled the speed of which your head was moving. “That’s it, god, fuck, wish you could see how pathetic you look right now. Spit dribbling down your chin as you take my cock like a good girl.”
You moaned around the male and fluttered your eyes shut as you concentrated on not choking on your own spit as Joel drove his cock roughly into your mouth until the head was hitting the back of your throat. 
Joel roughly pulled your hair until your mouth popped off him, a long string of spittle connected you to his length and he simply looked down at you and barked out a laugh. 
“Look at you,” he laughed again and your stomach bubbled with arousal and anger. “Finally being a good girl and listening to me. Maybe that’s what you need all along, isn’t it? Needed to taste my cock and find out what you’d been missing.”
“Asshole.” You hissed after sucking in a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. 
“Hmm? Guess I haven’t managed to teach you any manners just yet, that’s alright baby, they’ll come when you do.” He smirked, taking your throat once more in his hands and pulling you up. 
Your jaw tensed as you ground your teeth together.
“You seem angry, princess. Tell me, what’s up?” He cooed, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb.
“You’re such a prick, thinking you know everything all the fuckin’ time, well you don’t. Just ‘cause I sucked your cock doesn’t mean you’re in charge.” You muttered. 
“Oh? It doesn’t? So I’m not in charge? So, if I said, oh I dunno… If you behave and do as you’re told, I’ll let you cum as many times as you want but if you don’t well then… No orgasms for you, princess.” He chuckled, slowly trailing his hand down your arm and across your clothed breasts before he stroked the front of your damp panties. “Your move, baby girl.”
You shivered at his touches, his fingers ghosted over your panties and it took everything within yourself to not grab his hand and just rub up against it like a dog in heat. 
“Fuck.” You whispered, closing your eyes in despair. “Fine. Fuck.” You whimpered as Joel passed his fingers over your clothed heat again. “Fine! You’re in charge. Fine. Happy?” You yelled in defeat.
Joel laughed and kicked his boots off to the side so his trousers could follow suit. He peeled his jacket off before removing his old t-shirt, there he was, stood before you and completely naked. 
Your eyes roamed the expanse of his naked skin and appreciated every inch; for his age, he was fit and not in a sickly way. He was slim but broad in his shoulders, his arms were thick from handling guns and weapons during fights and his cock, you didn’t want to admit it but you needed more of it. 
“Take off your clothes and lay on the bed for me, spread your legs and show me that little cunt of yours.” He whispered in your ear before nudging you in that direction. 
You nodded albeit a little dumbly and did as your were told; you removed your ripped T-shirt from over your head and pulled off the old sports bra that contained your breasts, they fell from the fabric and Joel bit back a groan as he took in your body. You stepped out of your panties, and tossed them to the side, a thick damp strip staining the gusset of them. 
Joel’s hand pumped his cock slowly as he looked at you, his thumb rubbed the precum over his length and he hissed softly at the sensation. Your eyes were fixed on his as you slowly sank onto the bed, the tired springs beneath you creaked softly and you sat back, with your legs spread wide for the male. He could see your arousal from where he was stood, could see your sticky wetness that coated your slit already. 
“Touch yourself.” He commanded and you shook your head, your cheeks flushed in minor embarrassment. “Hm? I don’t recall asking. Fuckin’ touch yourself and show me, show me how you make yourself cum when no one is around.”
Your hands stroked over your breasts, your fingers toyed with your nipples and you whimpered as you gently pinched the buds. You allowed one of your hands to travel lower and finally, dip between your wet folds. You gently sunk a finger into your wet heat and moaned, your head fell back as you pumped your finger slowly inside of yourself. After a few seconds, you added another finger and you whined at the feeling of your walls stretching around your own digits. Your head was still lulled back and soft moans fell from your parted lips, Joel stood above you and pumped his cock as he watched on. 
“Look at me, I wanna see that pretty little face of yours as you fuck yourself for me.” He groaned. 
You lifted your head and almost instantly your eyes met, you were both fixated on one another’s gaze and it made something deep in your stomach twist and bubble. You knew you were close and you sped your fingers up to draw your orgasm closer. 
“Gonna cum.” You whispered, your breaths coming out in short and ragged spurts. 
“Ask me.” Joel shot back, speeding his hand up. “Ask for my permission like the good little girl I know you can be.”
“Fuck. Can I — can I cum?” 
“Can you cum… what?” He asked. 
“Please. Please can I cum. Please, Joel. Fuck. Need it so bad, please.” You whimpered pathetically, your hand working hard. 
“Mhm, good girl. That’s it. Fuckin’ look at me as you cum, that’s it. I wanna see your face when you cum. Good fuckin’ girl.” He cursed. 
Joel’s praises were all you needed to nudge you over the edge and tumble deep into your intense orgasm, your toes curled and thighs shook as you kept your direct eye contact with the male. Explicit curses fell from your lips like flowing stream and you shook heavily as you slowly started to come down. 
“Let me taste you.” Joel whispered, dropping to his knees and pulling you closer, he was careful to avoid your bandaged wound as he did so. 
He pulled your fingers from your wet heat and sucked them clean, groaning as he tasted your arousal for the first time. 
“So sweet. Tastes so sweet. All for me now, hm?” He asked and you replied silently with a nod of your head. 
Joel ducked his head down and without a second’s hesitation, he sucked your swollen clit into his mouth; his tongue lapped at the bud roughly and you all but screamed at him. It was intense, your hand flew to his head to grip harshly at his greying hair and it only caused the male to suckle at your bud harder. 
“Fuck. Shit. Fucking Christ, Joel.” You whimpered, your thighs trembling as he forced them open. 
“That’s it baby, cum for me. Cum with my mouth on your pretty clit.” 
You barely had a second to recover from your orgasm, you barely even came down from it and here Joel was, ripping another out of you almost instantly. If it didn’t feel so good, you would have shot him a snarky comment about it. 
Your fingers were shaking as they held onto Joel and your hips ground down to meet the males face harder as he elicited your second orgasm from you. Your hole clenched around air and you whimpered at the feeling of being so empty when all you wanted was to feel Joel’s cock inside of you. 
He flicked his tongue over your bud once more for good measure as you rode out your orgasm. Your stomach was heaving with the deep breaths you tried to suck in, your legs were shaking and you weren’t sure if you would be able to handle Joel fucking you. 
“On your knees, ass up and silence from you, I don’t wanna hear you arguing with me.” Joel muttered before he gently spanked your exposed pussy. 
You made a small noise, the slap sending ripples through your body. You nodded and scrambled on your shaking legs to get yourself into the position. 
Joel roughly manhandled your ass, he groped at the flesh roughly and spread you before he landed his hand down onto the smooth skin in a bruising spank. You let out of a yelp and tried to scarper away from his hands but instead he brought you back roughly and spanked you again but this time you let out a small moan. 
Satisfied with the response, Joel took his length and gently pressed the tip of his cock to your eager, wet hole. 
You whimpered and gently pushed your hips backwards, trying to encourage the man to hurry up but it only caused him to withdraw more and tut from behind you. You whined and shoved your face into your arms which were resting on the old mattress. 
“Tell me how badly you want it, princess. Tell me how bad you’ve wanted my cock all day.” He groaned, rubbing his fat cock head along your slit, letting it nudge at your clit with every pass. 
“Fuck you.” You spat out, not wanting to appease the male further. 
“I will if you just tell me, come on, sweetheart. Look at you, your needy hole is all but begging for me. I know you want it, so why don’t you be a good little girl and tell me how badly. Come on.” He cooed. 
You groaned and hid your face further into the crook of your arm, no one, not ever, had spoken to you like that during sex or sexual acts and you didn’t want to admit how much it was turning you on. You felt embarrassed at being so exposed to the male behind you and you felt your cheeks burning under his watchful gaze. 
“Fuck, Joel. Please.” You whined. 
“Please what? Hm? What d’ya want baby? Hm?”
“Joel, I’m not playing. Please. Please fuck me, I’ve wanted it so bad all day, c-couldn’t help but stare at your bulge earlier and imagine what it would feel like in me. Been soaked all day, was gonna wait until you were sleeping so I could rub my pussy and think about it. P-please.” You all but sobbed out, your voice sounded foreign as the words tumbled carelessly from your own lips. “I’m not even joking, if you tease me any more I’ll cum without either of us touching me and that’s just embarrassing for everyone. Please fuck me already, wanna feel your cum dripping out of my hole. Want you to fuck a baby into me.” The last sentence fell from your lips and you immediately wanted to withdraw. “I-I mean, I just. Fuck. Sorry. I’m just really turned on and I didn’t mean—.”
Joel didn’t give any more warning, he bottomed out into you with a deep groan and your fingers gripped at the sorry sheets beneath you both. 
“Fuckin’ hell, princess. So tight for me. You want me to fill you up with my seed? Hmm? Wanna see if I can get you pregnant, huh? Bet you’d like that, filthy little slut.” Joel snarled, his hips pushing against your ass hard enough to leave marks. 
He was relentless with his pace, his thick cock drilled in and out of your tight hole and you felt drunk, felt drunk on the high of your previous orgasms and felt drunk on the older male’s cock. 
You couldn’t help but squirm under Joel, his strong hands held you in place to ensure you didn’t move too much. 
“C’mon baby girl, quit your squirmin’ for me… gotta keep nice and still whilst I fuck my cum into you. Gotta make sure it gets nice and deep.” He groaned. 
You clenched around the male as he spoke, his words causing your walls to flutter around him and you moaned softly, your head still buried deep into your own arm. Your fingers were still gripping at the sheets for dear life as Joel fucked into you, his own fingers gripped roughly at the soft flesh of your hips. 
“J-Joel��” you whimpered weakly. “Please can I cum again? P-please.”
Joel smiled from behind you and released on of his hands so he could intertwine it into your messy hair; he pressed your face into the mattress below you and rolled his hips rhythmically. You whimpered under the pressure of the man and felt yourself fluttering around him, knowing that another orgasm was impending imminently. 
“Mhm, wanna feel your pretty little pussy cum on my cock. That’s it, atta girl. Such a good little whore for me, aren’t you? Taking me so well. Mmm, so proud of you, good baby.” He cooed, pulling his cock out to rub up against your clit. 
Your legs shook once more, the new sensation against your swollen clit driving you mad. He took his cock and roughly pressed it back into your wet heat and you groaned under him. You slid a hand under your bodies so your fingers could rub eagerly at your own clit, Joel noticed it and pressed your face hard into the rough fabric underneath you. 
Your fingers circled your clit and within seconds you were falling apart at the seams, you came around the male and your walls sucked him in deeper as you did so. 
His name fell from your lips like a spoken curse as you fell apart, your weak body collapsed as your orgasm ripped every shroud of energy you had left in you. Joel didn’t seem to mind, he more felt a sense of pride that he had this effect on you. 
He took both of your hips into his hands once more and sped his hips up, hungrily chasing his own high. 
“Such a good little pet for me, so beautiful when you’re fucked out. So obedient for me. Fuck. So good. Should fuck my seed into you so we can see you get all full and round, let everyone know in Jackson who you belong to. Eh? You like that?” Joel mumbled, his words barely stringing a sentence together between his ragged breaths. 
You nodded under the male eagerly and moaned weakly. Joel chuckled as he looked at your spent face and you clenched around him once again, that was all he needed and he was tumbling into his own orgasm. Joel bottomed himself out and held himself there, anchoring himself to you by your hips as you felt the first hot spurts of his cum coat your insides. You whined at the sensation of being so full of the male. 
“Fuck…” you whispered. 
Joel laughed gruffly as he collapsed on top of you, he barely held his weight up as he tried to suck down some deep breaths. After a few seconds, Joel finally built up the courage to collapse onto the sorry mattress next to you. The springs creaked loudly as he did so and you rolled onto your back with a wince, you knew you would be sore tomorrow for more than one reason. 
“Fuck!” You repeated, your mind slowly coming to terms with what just happened. 
“Not so cocky anymore, are you?” Joel laughed, leaning up on his elbows to peer down at you. 
“And yet, you’re still an asshole? Unbelievable.” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. 
“I prefer the term, consistent, darlin’.” He shot back, smugly before he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 
Joel got off the bed with a groan and quickly threw his clothes back on. 
“Take the first sleep, I’ll keep watch. Tomorrow we’ll go find those fuckers from today and make sure they don’t get anywhere near you again.” Joel said, softer this time. 
“You take the first sleep, y’always fall asleep on watch anyway. Old man. Can’t imagine how tired you are after fuckin’ that hard.” You teased back. 
“For once, just for once could you just listen to me and do as I say?” Joel huffed. 
“I just did… dunno if you remember? Your cock was inside of me? Pretty good. That’s all you’re gettin’ from me.” 
“Only pretty good? Huh…” Joel mumbled as he watched you dress yourself. “Guess I should give it another go and see if I can improve my score… and your manners since you seem to have forgotten them real quick.”
“Guess you should.” You replied quickly with a smirk. 
“Such a bitch.” Joel shook his head with a fond smile this time and quickly closed the distance between you both again. 
“Such an asshole.” You laughed and latched your lips onto his with a grin spread across your features. 
Maybe working with the older Miller again wouldn’t be the worse thing in the world, not anymore, anyway. 
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reunionatdawn · 8 months ago
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My Analysis of the Best Paired Endings in 3H (Part 19: AM Sylvain/Felix)
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Sylvain: I hate Crests, you know. They mess everything up in life, the future, everything… Just because I have a Crest, I'm treated as the heir, and my older brother nearly killed me because of jealousy. Bitches... they swarm to me, no, to my blood, like ants... Mercedes: …I'm sorry. Did I remind you of something you didn't want to remember? Sylvain: …Sorry, I slipped. Ah, damn, I didn't mean to show such a pathetic side… Mercedes: …No, I'm glad. It feels like I saw your true face for the first time.
The localization watered down, omitted, or completely rewrote a lot of the more interesting gender-related dialogue. In his Japanese B-Support with Mercedes, the word Sylvain used for women was "女ども" (onnadomo). This term is derogatory. It is used to refer to females in a demeaning manner and carries a tone of contempt or disdain. It is considered offensive and is avoided in polite conversation. A comparable word in English might be "bitches" or "wenches."
Sylvain: …Oh, what's up, Professor? Haha, sorry, didn't notice you at all. We've been meeting quite often lately. Oh, could it be that you're interested in me? (Female Byleth): ...Just kidding, it's a joke. Please don't make such an obvious disgusted face. (Male Byleth): Sorry, my arms are reserved for girls only! I'd prefer not to lend them to bastards.
The localization also changed some lines in Sylvain's B-Support with Byleth pretty significantly. If you are playing as Male Byleth, he refers to males as "野郎" (yarou). It's an informal term that is somewhat similar to "guy" or "dude" in English, but it's more derogatory. It's a gendered insult and it suggests that the person being referred to is undesirable or contemptible in some way. It implies qualities like rudeness, roughness, or unpleasantness. It is also considered offensive and impolite, and it's generally not used in polite contexts.
Sylvain: My brother was always a truly irredeemable bastard. Selfish, conceited, and arrogant. I've always had to clean up after him…even after he died. But, thinking about it, if my brother, not me, had been born with the Crest… Would I have become like my brother, or would there have been a different fate for me…?
"Yarou" is often translated as "bastard". In Hopes, if you take Sylvain on an expedition and ask about his likes, he says it's talking to girls. If you ask what he dislikes, he says it's being surrounded by guys, and he uses the same term. And he often used it when referring to guys in general, such as during teatime. I think he was even more of a misandrist than a misogynist, and it's a shame that wasn't as apparent in English because it's pretty integral to his character.
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Sylvain: If someone is in trouble, you help them. That's what a knight, no, what a human being does. Whether it's a cute girl or a rugged big guy, it's the same thing. Ashe: …! Sylvain: Hey, don't give me that look. Are you falling for me? Unfortunately… Ashe: What are you talking about? …I'm just a little surprised.
Even though Sylvain disliked most women, he still vastly preferred their company over men. In their B-Support, he saved Ashe's life, and Ashe came to thank him (quite similar to Sylvain's A-Support with Felix, actually). And he basically told Ashe "no homo". In the localization of their C-Support, he asked Dimitri to come to town together with him to pick up girls. But in the Japanese, he simply encouraged him to invite girls out to dinner on his own.
Sylvain: Hey, Professor. If you're free, wanna go out to the town together? (Female Byleth): I found a place with delicious food. I thought I had no choice but to invite you, Professor! (Male Byleth): In search of unseen beauties… No. Just kidding. Please don't give me that look.
While there are plenty of hints that Sylvain is bisexual, I think it makes perfect sense that he can't end up with Male Byleth or any other male character except for one. He had a VERY specific type. I don't even think Female Byleth was truly his type. But ya know, self-insert.
Sylvain: Dorothea, Hilda, Mercedes… Lady Rhea is also quite the beauty. Ah, the Officer's Academy is great, Professor. Beauties everywhere you turn! Haha!
So, what was his type? Well, he tells you on the first day of school who he was interested in. Three girly girls and Lady Rhea, who represents the Mother Goddess archetype, the embodiment of the divine feminine principle.
Sylvain: Professor, have you seen Felix? He's always disappearing when you take your eyes off him. Byleth: I saw him at the training ground. Sylvain: Well, I thought it might be something like that. Sorry, Professor. Thanks for your help! Taking care of horses, you know, it's quite soothing. They repay trust with trust. Sigh… In that regard, dealing with girls is quite tricky.
Sylvain liked damsels in distress he could swoop in and help. He thought Hilda was cute until he learned that her "delicate flower" act was insincere. And he was attracted to Dorothea, whom he compared to a beautiful flower in bloom, until he suspected she had an ulterior motive. On the day he was looking for Felix, he said he liked looking after horses because, unlike girls, they can be trusted.
Yuri: Oh, is this what they call mutual affection? I'm up for a rendezvous anytime… But next time, could you use better lines than when we first met? That was terrible! "Hello, young lady, delicate as a little bird! Would you care to chat a bit over there…" Sylvain: Oh, come on, I already apologized plenty for mistaking you for a girl! How many times do I have to say it! Yuri: I didn't really need an apology, you know. Look at this face; there are plenty who make that mistake. In fact, I even think I should have conversed with you, even if I had to pretend to be a woman. There's nothing wrong with maintaining a relationship with the future Margrave, right? Sylvain: What an enthusiastic pick-up line… I can't help but feel strange myself.
What mattered to Sylvain was whether his brain registered someone as a girl. He tried to woo a crossdresser at a harvest festival. And the pick-up line he used on Yuri was changed in the localization. He called him "delicate as a little bird" in Japanese. And he was not turned off by the idea of Yuri pretending to be a woman with him.
Sylvain: ...Sorry. Well, I understand, but it seems my mind was refusing to comprehend... Certainly, you... I mean, you're a woman. Yes, a lovely young lady, indeed. Oh no, I've been rude. I'm terribly sorry, miss. Leonie: What's with that tone... Sylvain: I really am sorry. This is a first for me, too. Even if Leonie is ro… I mean, even if she's an active girl, something like this… Leonie: You were about to say "rough", right!?
He knew Leonie was a girl, but his mind just didn't see her as a one. He used the word"粗雑" (sozatsu). It means "rough" or "crude". Later, he compared her to a sunflower, rather than a delicate flower.
Sylvain: It might also be one of the knights… Oh, wait, me!? Ingrid: I'll hit you. Sylvain: W-wait, I was just kidding! I'm against violence! Being too rough ruins a beauty, you know! ………… Uh, well. I-I mean, when I say "beauty," I'm not talking about flirting or anything, yeah!
In his A+ Support with Ingrid, the Japanese word he used was "乱暴" (ranbou). It means "rough" or "violent" in English.
Sylvain: I'm weary from the nonstop battles. A gentle and beautiful young lady who can heal my troubled heart, I wonder if she’s lying around out there somewhere… (Best Answer): She might appear someday.
Even his notes to the advice box suggested that his ideal partner was a "Yamato Nadeshiko". The term describes the "flower of Japanese womanhood" or "traditional daughter of Japan". It's a nostalgic term for the perfect woman under the ideology of Japanese patriarchal society. Sylvain adored traditional femininity and wanted a partner who was the epitome of feminine beauty.
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Sylvain: To be honest, I left home without telling my father, even though the country was in a difficult situation. Haha, I can imagine my father's angry face. "That idiot son of mine…" Haha, scary, scary…
But it was not because he was interested in upholding patriarchy. In fact, it he hated patriarchy and did not have a good relationship with the men in his life. His father was known as the "Wall of Ice". Matthias only cared about whether he had a Crest and could wield the Lance of Ruin. He didn't have much regard for his son's life and wanted him to take out a group of bandits by himself to earn his inheritance.
Ingrid: As you know, Sylvain and I have known each other since we were children. In the past, he often had bruises and other injuries on his face and body. Every time I asked, he would say he got them during training, but still…
And growing up, Sylvain was regularly beaten by his older brother.
Dimitri: Who's naïve and serious…? Besides, compared to you, most men are probably the same. Sylvain: Oh, really? A man who gives a dagger as a gift to a girl he likes is quite… Dimitri: How many years ago was that story? …If I seriously slap your head, will you forget about it? Sylvain: If I were hit with that monstrous strength, I'd die… It doesn't sound like a joke.
His Japanese voice acting during his C-Support with Dimitri conveyed a lot more distress than the English version did. Because of how overly serious Dimitri was, and his history of being abused, he genuinely could not tell that he was just joking about hitting him.
Sylvain: Ah, damn it… Joining the Empire… I wonder what Father would say… And then there's His Highness… He's definitely furious, right? That guy, when he's angry, he's downright terrifying… I wonder how I'll be killed… Just imagining it makes my legs tremble. However… it's your decision. I'll follow you…until the end. Haha, I wonder what's gotten into me. I should be scared out of my mind… and yet…
If you recruit Sylvain into CF, you'll learn that he was terrified of Dimitri's anger. He was a childhood friend, but he was never as close to him as he was to Ingrid and Felix. Dimitri was, after all, the future patriarch of the Kingdom with superhuman strength. Which would be kind of intimidating to an abuse victim. In CF, he calls Dimitri a stubborn "yarou". While he is on good terms with him in AM after his boar phase, he doesn't even have an A-Support with him.
Sylvain: Thinking that he's in the next room makes me hesitate to invite a girl over at night. I'm already scared and scared of the scolding the next morning... (Best Answer): Maybe I should reconsider the room assignments…
Sylvain's note to the advice box was about how he was afraid to invite girls to his room because Dimitri was next door. He didn't take his scoldings from Ingrid or Felix very seriously. But Dimitri's seriousness seemed to remind him of his father. And Sylvain was deathly afraid of his father. I'm sure that's why he felt like he had no way out of his arranged marriage.
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Sylvain: As someone with a Crest, I was raised with great care by my parents. But my older brother, who didn't have a Crest, was suddenly treated very coldly when I was born. …My older brother even pushed me into a well and abandoned me in the snowy mountains. I understood it even as a child. I had taken everything from him. How could I complain in front of someone who wanted a Crest but couldn't get one? So, the persistent stares of women, the appraising looks of noble daughters… I had to smile and accept them. …Because I had the Crest.
Sylvain bears the Crest of Gautier which is associated with the Death Arcana in Tarot. And the theme of "death" certainly played a large role in his character arc. Growing up, he was constantly told that he should go die and his brother tried to kill him. But Death doesn't mean literal death. It signifies a time of significant transformation, transition, and change. The old version of you needs to "die" to allow the new you to be created. 
Sylvain: Ever since King Lambert passed away, I hardly get to see my childhood friends anymore…
Death also represents a resistance to change. In Hopes, if you take Sylvain on an expedition and ask him about his memories of the past, he sadly recounts how he and his old friends stopped hanging out much after King Lambert died. Sylvain would have been fifteen at the time. The same age he was when he hit on Lord Gwendal's daughter, prompting Ingrid to finally leave her room out of concern for him.
Sylvain: Actually, I have a history with Lord Gwendal. Yes, that was a story from many years ago. I met a lovely young lady, fell in love, and was nearly killed by her father… And that father happened to be Lord Gwendal. Oh boy, I was truly prepared to die at that time!
In Japanese, Sylvain's Classic Mode death quote uses the word "覚悟" (kakugo). It means "prepared for" or "mental readiness." And in Japanese, he uses that exact same word when talking about the Lord Gwendal incident. Sylvain's childhood antics (such as hitting on Ingrid's grandmother) could be seen as a harmless ploy for attention to compensate for his terrible home life. However, his involvement with Gwendal's daughter appeared to be way more serious.
Sylvain: …Well, whatever you think, Professor, I don't intend to change my attitude. You see, I may be a good-for-nothing, but I'm still a noble with a Crest… I try not to get involved in serious relationships. They only bring trouble. Eventually, I'll be quietly married off to some suitable partner and settle down.
Sylvain was extremely disingenuous with girls. He would use them for sex, then dump them in public. He was dreading the fact that his life would change after he got married and he blamed them for it.
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Ingrid: Right? We're just childhood friends, right? Then why do I have to clean up after your messes? Sylvain: Haha, nobody asked you to do that! Well, just think of it as your role and accept it. For some reason, it's been like this since we were kids, and it'll probably continue. Ingrid: …Continue like this? So, you don't have any intention of changing your ways!?
The only way Sylvain knew how to cope with his fate was by pretending that he just couldn't resist falling in love with every cute girl that he laid eyes on. But the truth was that he disliked girls and was even afraid of them. He was being literal when he said he would stake his life on flirting.
Ingrid: You keep earning resentment from women, and eventually, you'll really get stabbed. Sylvain: Haha, well, if I get stabbed, I get stabbed. I suppose that's just how it goes. Ingrid: …Dying for such a silly reason is definitely not okay, are you stupid!? …Glenn was the type to make those kinds of jokes too. And he really never came back.
Ingrid's line in her B-Support with Sylvain was changed slightly. She specifically warned him that he would get stabbed if he didn't change his behavior. And he just laughed, as if he were prepared to die.
Sylvain: I just, uh… Well, you're going to think I'm being a jerk or hitting on you or whatever… When we're side by side like this, training, I feel— I don't know—oddly at ease. Ingrid: I know what you mean. It's probably because we've been friends for so long. Sylvain: That must be it. Let's never change. Friends forever?
All Sylvain wanted was for things to go back to how they were when he was a kid. In their Houses A-Support, he emphasized that he was not trying to hit on Ingrid. The idea that things wouldn't change between them just put him at ease.
Ingrid: What do you mean you feel relieved seeing me eat? Sylvain: Haha, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. Just seeing you enjoying your meal like that makes me, you know, feel relaxed. [...] Nobody can stay the same as they were in the past. You said something like that recently too, didn't you? That's why having something that doesn't change is really comforting for us.
In their Hopes A-Support, he offered to treat Ingrid to dinner not as an attempt to woo her, but just so that he could watch her eat. It was a relief to him that some people never change.
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Sylvain: Hey Felix, you free? You must be free, right? Let's go flirt with some girls together again today. Felix: Tch… You're disturbing my training. Go by yourself. Sylvain: Don't say that. Come on, we've known each other for a long time, haven't we?
The one change that bothered Sylvain more than any other was the change in Felix's personality. While he didn't like girls becoming attached to him, he was sad that Felix seemed to have outgrown that tendency and no longer wanted to spend time with him.
Felix: We've certainly known each other for a while, but that's about it. Besides, it's not what I wanted. It was just our parents' wishes. Sylvain: So, you're saying it's a rotten relationship, huh?
The phrase "rotten relationship" is kinda hard to translate. It is "腐れ縁" (kusareen) in Japanese. It means "a relationship that cannot be severed even if one wants to." It's usually a relationship that has persisted for a long time, often against one's will or preference, because it is bound up in some work, social, or family obligation. It tends to have a negative connotation, implying that the relationship is undesirable or plagued by difficulties.
It was derived from "鎖縁" (kusari-en) or "chain relationship", a term that refers to a close and inseparable relationship between two people, often described as being bound together by chains. "Chain relationship" was a positive term referring to two people bound by fate, as if they were destined to be together. But over time, the "rotten" part was added, and it took on a negative connotation.
Felix: That boar prince, it's been a rotten relationship since birth… No, even before birth. That's why I'm warning you… He harbors a beast within. You can trust in his skill in combat and brute strength, but as a person, he's utterly untrustworthy. You better be careful not to be devoured yourself.
Felix used the exact same term when he warned Byleth about Dimitri in Chapter 2. And the way he described his relationship with Sylvain is actually a far more accurate description of his relationship with Dimitri. Felix did have fond memories of their childhood together, but Dimitri's sadistic smile while torturing the rebels was ingrained in his mind. After that, he no longer wanted to associate with him, but he couldn't break off their relationship due to his family.
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Sylvain: So, you're saying it's a rotten relationship, huh? Come on now, Felix. You used to cling to me like glue back in the day. You couldn't beat your brother, got into fights with His Highness, and every time something happened, you came crying to me. Back then, you were so meek and innocent. I doted on you like a little brother… Felix: ...Enough.
Sylvain disagreed that his relationship with Felix was just a rotten relationship. The implication was that it was more of a chain relationship and Felix was trying to downplay how close they were because he was hurt by the way Sylvain was acting.
Felix: Listen. I've held back until now, but there are plenty of things I want to say to you. In your personal life and even on the battlefield, you're frivolous. Whenever something happens, it's always about women… Sylvain: Hmm, what's wrong with that? It's rude to ignore cute girls… Felix: There's a limit to that, you sex fiend. If your sword skills were solid, I could acknowledge that. But you slack off even in training… Do you not feel any guilt about hurting others' feelings and holding them back?
Sylvain's womanizing certainly hurt Felix's feelings, but he was even more hurt by his frivolousness in battle. The implication was that he had no choice but to double down on his training because he was always babysitting Sylvain on the battlefield.
Felix: Being in this military academy, one becomes speechless at the sheer number of fools who, indulged by the power of their Crests and the status of nobility, neglect their training. It's truly astounding. (Best response): It would be good to give them training.
Felix's note to the advice box was undoubtedly written with a particular person in mind.
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Sylvain: You know, since way back, I've been doing stupid things, and you've always been there to yell at me… Felix: Both of us getting lectured by Ingrid because of you… Try to put yourself in my shoes, I got dragged into it every time. Sylvain: Yeah yeah, that's right. Our relationship hasn't changed no matter how many years have passed. But you've changed, Felix. You were so adorable when we were kids… Now, you've become completely warped. I wonder why you grew up like this… Felix: Tch… You, on the other hand, are still a good-for-nothing, just like in the past. Sylvain: Ahahaha, what's that? Is that something the person who has always been by my side would say? Even now, look, you came all the way to me with the intention to apologize for what happened the other day, right?
Sylvain wasn't intimidated by Felix. But being yelled at by him still hurt his feelings and he kept his distance afterwards. And Felix came crawling back to him to apologize. He couldn't sever their relationship even if he was so hurt that he may have wanted to. He was afraid of losing their friendship, so it proves he was lying when he called it a rotten relationship.
Felix: …The boar prince and I have been acquainted since before birth. Before I knew it, he was always by my side… You might even say that, at one time, we were best friends.
Dimitri and Felix were always together as little kids and Felix used to whine unless they could do everything together (Ironically, Dimitri was probably the one who viewed it as a rotten relationship when they were kids). I've seen some people say that they were best friends up until the incident suppressing the rebellion when they were 14 or 15. But that didn't appear to be the case. At the time the Tragedy of Duscur occurred, when he was 13, Dimitri considered Glenn his best friend.
Sylvain: However, both His Majesty and Felix have really grown up, haven't they? Ten years ago, they were the kind of guys who would squabble over breaking each other's swords and whatnot…
Felix always went crying to Sylvain whenever he and Dimitri fought. Dimitri broke Felix's sword when they were nine years old. So, even by that age, Felix was clingier with Sylvain than Dimitri.
Sylvain: A little laziness is just right. If you push yourself too hard, you'll just get tired. Oh yeah, I'll treat you to a meal, so let's go out to town together, Felix. Felix: No. Sylvain: Which is more important, going to town with me or training? Felix: Training. See ya.
Sylvain lamented how cute Felix used to be in Houses, Hopes, and even Heroes. He was the only male character that Sylvain was ever interested in spending time with one-on-one. He even invited him out to dinner like he did with girls. It is very likely that he was so sad about how much Felix changed because he used to be his ideal "girl".
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Sylvain: More importantly, it's time for the ballroom dance now, isn't it? There's also the White Heron Cup competition, right? So, Professor, who are we sending from our class? (Byleth chooses Sylvain as the representative for the White Heron Cup) Sylvain: Huh, me? Well, um, that's fine I guess. It's a good opportunity to show the girls what I can do. (Byleth does NOT choose Sylvain as the representative for the White Heron Cup) (Japanese) Sylvain: If anything, I'd rather see a beauty dancing than watch a bastard dancing, you know. (English) Sylvain: I get it. No worries, really. I'd rather see a beautiful person dancing instead of some goof like me.
Sylvain lumped himself into the "yarou" category, too. He was eager to impress girls during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. But he will sound a bit disappointed if you choose him as the representative for the White Heron Cup. He's happier if you choose a beauty. The term he used for a "beauty" was "美人" (bijin). It means "beautiful person," but it is primarily used to refer to women.
It can sometimes be used to describe an exceptionally attractive man, although less commonly. Generally, "bijin" is more commonly associated with feminine beauty in Japanese language and culture. While it can technically be used to describe individuals of any gender who are considered beautiful, the term often carries connotations of traditional or stereotypical feminine beauty standards.
And since "yarou" is gendered, you'd think that "beautiful girl" would be the obvious way to translate that line, right? On the first day of school, “beautiful girls” was used. But I have to give the localizers credit where credit is due. They used "person" rather than "girl". Because they knew Sylvain would not have minded one bit if Felix had been the White Heron Cup representative.
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Felix: You seem like you have something to say. …You're not seriously considering choosing me as the representative for the White Heron Cup, are you? (Byleth does NOT choose Felix as the representative for the White Heron Cup) Felix: I see. That's fine then.
Felix is unsociable. He gets annoyed if Byleth stares at him too long during teatime and he struggles to maintain eye contact when talking to people. Yet he was not as opposed to participating in a dance contest as you'd expect. He even brought it up himself. If you don't pick him, he doesn't sound relieved like most of the others. In fact, in Japanese, I'd say he sounds a tiny bit disappointed. His objection seemed to be dancing with a girl, not dancing in general.
Felix: I'd much rather swing a sword at the training grounds than dance with a girl at the ball. Sylvain: Huh? Your Highness and Felix, are you joking…? You can dance with all the girls in the school. Do you mean to say that on such a wonderful day, you two dudes will be practicing swordplay with each other…? That doesn't seem like a sane idea!
One the "Night of Promises", Dimitri was not looking forward to the ball because he was sad that he was never going to rekindle his spark with Edelgard. He still attends the ball, and the cutscene shows him dancing next to Edelgard, as if to imply that he wished he was dancing with her instead. Felix felt the same way as Dimitri. He said he was going to skip out and train instead, something that made Sylvain sad. He used the word "yarou" once again here, emphasizing the masculine nature of the activity he's criticizing.
Felix: But… to the casual observer, it might not look entirely unlike a tryst between a man and a woman. If you're truly dissatisfied, then that's your compromise. Byleth: Unfriendly. Felix: Call it whatever you want. I'm about to head back to the training grounds.
If Byleth meets Felix at the Goddess Tower, his dialogue indicated that he did indeed skip the ball to practice at the training grounds.
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Sylvain: When I heard you were heading to the Goddess Tower, I wondered who you were having a tryst with… I never expected you'd just be standing there alone, lost in thought. Byleth: Tryst...? Sylvain: Wait a minute. Seriously, what's going on? When someone goes to the Goddess Tower, isn't it to meet a lover? Here, vows exchanged are sure to be fulfilled… It's the lovers' sanctuary, you know. (Option 1) Byleth: Why did you come alone? Sylvain: Huh? Oh, well... Truth be told, I was curious about who you were waiting for. I hurried to catch up, only to find you alone in the end... Well, I must say, it put my mind at ease.
Sylvain goes to the Goddess Tower simply because he was curious about who Byleth was waiting for and was relieved to find out that she was alone. Then afterwards, he offers to make a vow with her.
(Option 2) Byleth: Don't you need to invite a female student? Sylvain: That's true. I could have invited someone, but my true love is right in front of me. Being alone at the Goddess Tower means I can try to woo you, right?
The phrase Sylvain used for "true love" was "本命の相手" (honmei no aite). "本命の" (honmei no) translates to "main," or "primary". "相手" (aite) translates to "partner" or "opponent," depending on the context. The phrase typically refers to the person that the individual truly loves or considers as their ideal romantic interest.
HOWEVER. It also translates as "favorite opponent" in specific contexts, particularly in sports or competitive activities where "aite" means "opponent" or "rival." In that context, it refers to the most formidable opponent in a competition or match, the one whom the athlete or team considers their top rival or challenger.
Byleth: …Me? Sylvain: Yes. Who else would I be talking about?
Who else would he be talking about? Well maybe someone who spends a lot of time with Byleth as a sparring partner? Someone who was absent from the ball? Perhaps someone he made a promise together with in the past?
Sylvain: Hey, Professor, I won't make you unhappy. So, how about getting married… Byleth: You're not trustworthy. Sylvain: Haha, well, that's true.
Sooo. Why did Sylvain go to the Goddess Tower? Was Byleth his true love? Or was she actually his primary rival for his true love? Well, I think we can rule out the "true love" option.
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Felix: This is troublesome… The enemy is just a bunch of thieves. I doubt there are any skilled fighters among them. Sylvain: Don't be so cold. I'm looking forward to it. Come on, there might be a beautiful female thief among them.
Felix was always trying to prove his worth in battle. And Sylvain was always goofing off because he didn't value his own life. Before the group's first battle against bandits in Houses, he wasn't acting serious because there would most likely not be skilled fighters among them. He even made a joke about flirting with one of them.
Felix: If they're in a state of confusion right now, we can easily round them all up. I'm on my way. Sylvain: …No, no, no, hold on a second. Don't you think there's something strange about that fortress?
In Hopes, the bandits were a much greater threat than they anticipated, and Sylvain completely changed his tune. You gain Support points with Felix if you suggest charging the fort. But you gain points with Sylvain if you suggest a more cautious approach.
Sylvain: Ah, I thought since it's a festival day, there wouldn't be any lectures, and we could play all day… Hey, Professor. Even if you were planning an assassination, would you really choose the day of the Rite of Rebirth for it? I feel like there might be times when security is less tight. Or is there a reason it has to be this day?
Before the Rite of Rebirth, there was an assassination attempt on Lady Rhea. Sylvain didn't take it seriously because he knew the monastery's security would be tighter than ever on that day, and he was just goofing off and chatting up Hilda.
Sylvain: …But it's strangely quiet these days. Is it because the knights are out and about? Felix: I heard the knights are putting all their effort into tracking down the enemy. Sylvain: Putting all their effort… Isn't that a bit too much? Is it okay to neglect the monastery's defense? Felix: …How do you see this situation? Byleth: Maybe you're worrying too much. Sylvain: Is that so… Well, I hope the knights come back soon.
But after Jeralt was killed by intruders, he was standing with Felix, worrying about the thin security with all the knights out looking for the enemy. It's a very nice bit of subtle storytelling, showing that, even if he seemed like he was always goofing off, he was serious about Felix's safety and always kept an eye on him.
Sylvain: Come to think of it, you don't like sweets, huh? Well, thanks. I'll eat it later. …So, what do you want me to do? Ah, you want me to play matchmaker with a girl? Felix: Is your head filled with sugar or something? I'm just here to thank you for the battle the other day. If you hadn't noticed the ambush, I would probably be dead by now. Sylvain: Oh, right... But isn't that just how it goes? On the battlefield, it's all about mutual support. That's what comrades do, right? Felix: …You haven't changed a bit. Sylvain: Yeah, I'm still the same as ever. Felix: You always…
Felix is the only partner who will confess their feelings for Sylvain at the end of the Support chain. You could tell that he was mulling it over in the A-Support. He even brought a gift of sweets for Sylvain before he planned to tell him how he felt. But he chickened out. Still, he was going to say that he was grateful to Sylvain for always protecting him ever since they were kids.
Sylvain: His Majesty or Felix would probably make better hunting partners than me. I prefer to just sit back and watch.
While there are no specific childhood anecdotes related to this, a comment Sylvain made during his Hopes expedition did imply that he occasionally accompanied Dimitri and Felix on their hunting trips.
Felix: Boars are naturally wary animals, but this one seems injured… If it senses us, it'll charge. We can't afford to get injured by its massive rush. Raphael: Huh? Felix, you sound like you've fought something like this before? Felix: It's a story from many years ago, but I once let a similar quarry slip away. [...] House Blaiddyd and House Fraldarius used to go on hunting trips together. On one trip, a certain prince killed so many deer it proved impossible to fit them all on the sled. Meanwhile, I went off hunting on my own, encountered the boar, and barely escaped with my life.
Felix had a near-death encounter with a wild boar as a child. And I strongly suspect that Sylvain was the one who saved his life and got pretty hurt in the process.
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Felix: You've always been like this since we were kids. Normally so unreliable, but you've always thrown yourself in harm's way and helped us when it really counted. …Every time you managed to put on that carefree smile for us, I cannot deny that I wanted to hug you a little. Sylvain: O-Oh… You're the one spouting those kinds of lines? Have you eaten something strange? Felix: Tch… I won't say it again, you fool! Now that I know you're safe, I'm going back to my room.
In the A+ Support, Felix will finally say what he was thinking back in the A-Support. He will mention how Sylvain would literally put his body on the line and then smile afterwards. And Sylvain told Marianne that a smile was the true measure of a person's worth. He always smiled because it made him feel strong.
Felix uses the word "抱いていた" (dakishiteita). It means "embrace" or "hold." It can mean to literally hold, hug, or embrace someone in a physical sense. Or it can be used metaphorically to express the idea of cherishing or harboring a feeling of admiration or longing. But the writers probably chose that word for its dual meaning.
Felix was certainly trying to communicate his admiration for Sylvain's ability to smile even when he's hurt and in a lot of pain. And in doing so, he made his intense longing for Sylvain clear. And I do not think the localizers were wrong to have Felix express his desire to hug Sylvain in a literal sense. It was all part of the same package.
Sylvain: Alright, alright. Then I'll wait while having a meal until you feel like it. Come on, Felix, let's grab a meal in town. I'll treat you. How about some meat? Felix: …Alright. I owe you one. Just for today, I'll go along. Sylvain: After we fill our stomachs, then we can go chat up some girls… Felix: ………. Sylvain: Just kidding, jeez, you're really short-tempered. Come on, let's go together, Felix!
Sylvain offered to treat Felix to dinner in their B-Support, and he got rejected. In the A-Support, he offered again, and Felix agreed because he owed him. Now, Sylvain offered to treat Byleth—even the male—to dinner in his Paralogue because he saved his life, and he owed him. So, that probably wasn't what he wanted to hear.
In Sylvain's mind, relationships were always transactional, and he was very suspicious over whether anyone really wanted to spend time with him. He even suspected that Felix came to give him the sweets just so he could set him up with a girl. So, he apparently tested Felix's intentions by suggesting they chat up girls afterward. Ya know, just to make sure they're on the same page and it's really a date. In light of what Felix intended to say, it's clear why he was upset.
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Sylvain: ...Hey, uh, Ingrid. Training again today? Ingrid: No, today I'm going to the city to buy supplies. Training comes afterward. Is there something wrong? Sylvain: N-no, you're still as serious as ever, huh? Some things never change. Ingrid: …What are you talking about? I haven't changed at all. Sylvain: Y-yeah, you're right, haha. Ingrid: …Hey, what's up, Sylvain? Did you eat something strange? Sylvain: N-no, it's not that. Um… Have you found someone you like?
Sylvain was always smooth whenever he was flirting with girls. But in his A+ Support with Ingrid, he was incredibly flustered and stumbling over his words. He's a completely different person when he's really fallen for someone. Taken at face-value, the player would assume that he has fallen for Ingrid. And while that is certainly a valid interpretation, it actually isn't the only interpretation. He was particularly worried that she had been training a lot lately.
Sylvain: No, it's not like I'm flustered or anything. …I was just a little curious about the reason, that's all. Ingrid: …The reason for the makeup, huh. What do you think it is? Sylvain: Well… Is it because of a guy? If we're talking about someone you might like, going by your past tendencies… Felix…No, His Highness is also a possibility.
And the first person he asked about was Felix, due to Ingrid's history with Glenn and how Felix had changed to be more like him. But was it because he was afraid Felix would steal Ingrid from him? Or was he afraid Ingrid would steal Felix from him? While many people consider Ingrid the "canon" love interest for Sylvain, they deliberately left their A+ Support open to interpretation. I have no doubt that the writers preferred Felix as Sylvain's love interest, but they didn't want to make a gay pairing too obvious, so they left it open for Ingrid, too.
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Sylvain: I've been given the opportunity for revenge. I won't waste it… even if it means stabbing each other to death…!
Regardless of which one you interpret as his love interest, Ingrid and Felix were the two most important people to Sylvain. If you do not recruit them in CF, they will die at Arianrhod, and Sylvain's dialogue changes in response during "Field of Revenge". The Japanese verb he uses "刺し違える" (sashichigaeru) literally refers to stabbing one another and killing each other.
Sylvain: Professor! Has it really been five years? We ought to raise a glass to the occasion. Celebrate your return. Nah, I'd rather commemorate it with your death.
Sylvain's CF arc is very interesting. He becomes like Miklan. The foreshadowing in his B-Support with Byleth was intended for this exact moment. He was so jealous of Byleth's ability to live freely that he wanted to kill them. And now he gets the chance. He doesn't care if he dies as long as he gets his revenge for his two friends. Sylvain felt like his parents only valued him for his Crest and his brother wanted him dead. But those two really loved him. He was so driven to kill Byleth in CF because s/he took everything from him.
Mercedes: You can't choose where you're born. It's like flowers not being able to choose where they bloom. Since we don't suffer from hunger or thirst, we can't complain even if the place is cramped. It's the same for both of us… We all have to bloom where we're planted. Sylvain: It's true that flowers can't choose where to bloom. They can't go where they want to go until they die, and if the environment is bad, they will just wither away.
Because of the arranged marriage looming over his head, Sylvain felt like a flower with his roots firmly planted. He didn't feel like he could go where he wanted to go until he died.
Sylvain: Finally… I can go to the place where they are… I'm sorry, Your Majesty… I… will go ahead and wait… Dimitri: Thank you, Sylvain. I will also… definitely go to where you all are.
And where did he want to go? To the place where Ingrid and Felix were. CF!Sylvain was relieved that he could finally join them upon his death, something that was sadly not included in the localized version. That line was especially relevant to his relationship with Felix because they promised to die together.
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Sylvain: Me… disliking girls? Hahaha, no way, no way, not at all! I'm always serious when it comes to girls. I put my life on the line to woo them. Dorothea: You should focus on one person and then say that. You only have one life, and usually, there's only one person you can love enough to stake your whole life on.
Sylvain has the fewest number of paired endings out of any student. Understandably, very few women would consider marrying him. Mercedes would in order to escape her arranged marriage, but she'd have to give up her dream. And Ingrid would because she loved him and thought she needed to take care of him or else he'd end up like Glenn. But she'd also have to give up her dream.
In his S-Support proposal, Byleth was not quite sure if Sylvain was being sincere because he was still using shallow words. And Dorothea did not trust him, either, because he had to propose to her at least ten times. And of course, Dorothea will marry pretty much any nobleman in the game to secure her future. Felix had no one pressuring him and nothing to gain from being with Sylvain.
Sylvain: Do you remember? We made a promise when we were kids. That we'd die together. Felix: ...I remember. Sylvain: So, you see, there's no way I'd die before you and leave you behind.
In English, "dying together" could be taken as platonic. Just brothers-in-arms or best friends. However, there's a cultural nuance to it in Japanese because that phrase is often used in a romantic context. It implies that they will not just die but spend their whole lives together. It was, in essence, a marriage proposal.
Felix: …Well, I suppose that's true. But I'm fed up with getting terrified like this. You shouldn't just fool around all the time. Take your training seriously for once. …If you end up carelessly throwing your life away, I won't be able to die with you. Sylvain: Yeah, you're right. Once I'm healed, I'll try to be a bit more serious.
Felix uses the phrase "肝を冷やす" (kimo-o-hiyasu). It's an expression that literally translates to "cooling the liver" but figuratively means "to be frightened" or "to be scared stiff." It refers to the feeling of fear or nervousness that causes a person's body temperature to drop, often likened to a sensation of chilling one's liver.
Their entire Support chain was about how Felix never really changed. He always prioritized his training over hanging out because he was absolutely terrified that Sylvain would get himself killed and they wouldn't have a future together. After finally realizing this, Sylvain reaffirmed his childhood promise. He no longer wanted to die.
Sylvain: Anyway, I suppose you just said the things I usually say, right? Even if it's the same pick-up line, serious guys' words are taken seriously.
When Felix said Sylvain was frivolous in their C-Support, he used the word "不真面目" (fumajime). When Sylvain said he'd be more serious from now on, he used the word "真面目" (majime), which is the opposite. He also used this word in his Support with Dimitri. It means "serious" or "earnest" in English. It describes someone who is diligent, takes things seriously, and is sincere.
The "Sincerest of Knights" was not just saying that he would take his training seriously. He was also saying that he would take his personal life seriously. He wouldn't be frivolously going around picking up girls and telling them he loves them enough to stake his life on them anymore. Because he already found the one.
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Sylvain: These five years, fighting and fighting… Finally, the tough times have come to an end. A new era is about to begin. …So, I thought it's about time I put an end to my own fate. Byleth: Put an end to? Sylvain: Yes. My fate is not determined by something like a Crest; it's determined by me… This is the first step towards that. Not someone trying to use my Crest, not someone decided by someone else, and not just a playmate…
Death is the arcana of transformation and typically refers to a need to start over by letting go of the past. It is about moving forward from outworn and outgrown ways of life. And that's what Sylvain's character arc was all about, regardless of whether he marries Byleth.
The term for "put an end to" is "けじめ" (kejime). It can be translated as "closure," "settling accounts," "bringing something to an end," or "establishing a clear boundary." It suggests that Sylvain is finally ready to confront his fear, establish firm boundaries with his father, and decide for himself who he forms intimate relationships with.
Sylvain: But our feet aren't roots. We can move ourselves and go where we want. If we navigate cleverly, we might not have to give up what we want to do. [...] I'm not trying to court you or anything like that. But if I, as the legitimate son of Gautier, were to propose to you… The other party would have no choice but to withdraw. It might sour our relations a bit, though. Afterward, you can do as you please. You can work at the church or become whatever you want. Mercedes: But if you did that, Sylvain, you wouldn't be able to marry the person you love, right? Sylvain: Hahaha, I'm not being serious about that.
Sylvain is a Gemini. Being the Twins, they'll flit from person to person to see what everyone has to offer, but once they commit, their lives are complete and whole. Because he and Felix made such a promise before the game even started, it suggests that they were both in love with each other, regardless of whether you go for their paired ending.
And if Sylvain already had someone that he wanted to spend his life with, but that he wasn't free to do so because they were the wrong gender to produce heirs, then it casts his behavior in a different light. His storyline was about forbidden love. He changes his behavior in Hopes because he realizes that he can go where he wants and doesn't have to give up on being with the person he loves.
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Felix: I was raised to value strength above all else. Whereas you had a reason, an ambition, pushing you toward that hunger. So, tell me. What was the reason? Why were you driven to become so strong?
Not only is Sylvix the best relationship for Sylvain's growth, but it is also the best relationship for Felix's too. Felix was also a victim of Faerghus's patriarchal culture. He was taught to swing a sword before he could write and was raised with the motto: "Grow strong so you may live, and live to grow stronger".
Felix: It's like training with my brother. He always won—always—and died before I could win a single bout. From the first time I held a sword, all I wanted was to surpass him. And that's what drove me to become so strong.
Since Felix was a child, his main ambition in life was to surpass his brother, who he always lost to while sparring. And that sense of purpose continued to subconsciously drive him, even nine whole years after he died.
Rodrigue: …My eldest son was quite outstanding, you know. He was knighted at the age of fifteen.
Glenn possessed exceptional swordsmanship ability. Felix was probably so obsessed with surpassing his brother at swordplay because he was trying to earn the admiration of his father.
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Felix: Sorry, but I'm not "Emile." And of course, I'm not your brother. Tch… It's so annoying being compared to someone else. Mercedes: I'm really sorry… I'll be on my way then. …Oh, the tea refill is here. Please help yourself if you'd like. …Well, see you. Felix: …I am me. Regardless of what anyone says, I'm not anyone else. …Isn't that right…Brother.
The English localization changed several lines in Felix's C-Support with Mercedes, giving it a slightly different meaning than the original Japanese version. The verb used by Felix is "重ねる" (kasaneru). It means "to pile up" or "to layer". Metaphorically, in this context, it conveys the concept of overlapping an image of one person with someone else, because they remind you of them. The Japanese version made it sound like "You're you, not anyone else" was something Glenn had to remind Felix often.
Shez: Is Dimitri really that much like his dad? Rodrigue: Oh, yes, absolutely. Well, the late King was a bit more hot-headed, it seems… Compared to me and my son, they are spitting images of each other. See, we don't resemble each other much. Shez: Yeah, you're really not very similar at all. Your looks aside, of course.
The concept of "kasaneru" played into Rodrigue's relationship with both of his sons. He had trouble viewing them as their own people, rather than just reflections of himself. He was very proud that Glenn took after him and disappointed that Felix did not. He also projected his own feelings onto Glenn. While it did seem like he chose to defend Dimitri to the death, he was not satisfied to die.
Felix: …Hmph. It's a waste to keep someone like you as a woman. Leonie: Oh, come on. That's what's wrong with you. Strength has nothing to do with gender. It's because you underestimate your opponent that you fall into traps. Felix: …Yeah, you're right.
I've seen some people accuse Felix of being a misogynist because of several comments he made to female characters. One comment was to Ingrid about finding a husband, which I'll get to later. Another was his comment to Leonie about being impressive "for a girl". His comment in Japanese is actually entirely different. He was saying that Leonie is so strong that it's a waste because strength isn't a trait that is appreciated or expected of females in Fódlan.
Felix was implying that her talents might be better suited for manhood. And she actually made him question that way of thinking. This Support showed how Felix was aware that some people don't naturally conform traditional gender roles and it would make their lives much easier if they were the opposite sex. Which is something he had undoubtedly thought about himself.
Felix: It's all well and good to remember the dead, but sentimentality will get you killed. All the tears in the world couldn't bring them back, after all. Ingrid: You have always viewed the world in such stark terms. It might even be one of your strengths. But one day, you will learn that emotions and sentimentality are also a strength, not a curse.
Felix is a Pisces, which is considered one of the most feminine signs of the zodiac due to its association with sensitivity, intuition, empathy, and creativity. Pisceans are often described as dreamy, compassionate, and deeply empathetic individuals who are attuned to the emotions and needs of others. As a child, Felix was meek, innocent, clingy, and would cry easily. These are stereotypically feminine traits which would certainly not be valued in a strength-obsessed culture like Faerghus. And especially not in a boy.
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Felix: I am tired of it. For years, I've been forced to be a "replacement" for the dead. I had an excellent brother. He was a splendid knight worthy of admiration… He's dead now. After my brother's death, his presence haunted me like a shadow.
The Mother Goddess archetype is a powerful and ancient symbol found in various cultures and mythologies around the world. It represents the qualities of nurturing, fertility, protection, wisdom, and interconnectedness. Some examples are Isis from ancient Egyptian mythology and Mother Mary in Christianity. Sothis was the embodiment of the divine feminine principle.
The one who embodied the divine masculine principle was Nemesis. He represented the Warrior Hero archetype, which embodies qualities such as courage, strength, and valor. Figures like Achilles in Greek mythology, King Arthur in Arthurian legends, and Beowulf in Anglo-Saxon literature exemplify the ideals of the Warrior Hero.
Despite being the most religious country, the actual values of Faerghus were much more aligned with the Warrior Hero than the Mother Goddess. The Crest of Fraldarius is associated with the Emperor arcana. It represents the divine masculine principle. As the replacement heir, Felix's patriarchal duty was to serve as the king's sword and shield. But he hated the ideals of chivalry.
Dimitri: Heh. You know, Felix, you really are growing more and more like your brother. Always so sarcastic, and constantly looking for a fight. But deep inside, more than anyone, you—
The concept of "kasaneru" factored into Dimitri and Felix's relationship as well. Felix's gruff personality was not the natural effect of puberty. It was the result of being forced into a role he wasn't suited for. He hated bloodshed. His first battle left him horrified and he needed to desensitize himself to cope. After losing his brother and becoming a squire, his naturally sentimental and meek personality changed to become more like his brother, "sarcastic and constantly looking for a fight". Stereotypically masculine traits.
Bernadetta: Felix, did you just smile? And it was a really big smile, right? Hehehe, it's like cracking open a tough nut and finding a sweet smile inside… Felix: Tch… Don't get cocky, silly girl. Bernadetta: Oh no, the shell closed! Felix: …You've got guts to tease me like that. Seems like you really want to get in trouble.
The word Bernadetta used was "甘い" (amai). It is used for "sweet" and, just like in English, is often used to describe something that is sweet in taste or metaphorically sweet in demeanor or expression. In Japan, sweets are culturally coded as childish and feminine and liking meat is considered masculine. Did Felix truly not like sweets? Or did he just avoid them because of how they are perceived?
Bernadetta: Felix, please try this. This candy has a reputation for not being sweet. (Normal) Felix: I refuse. Whether it's sweet or not, I don't like candy. (Felix & Lysithea support level B reached) Felix: Candy, huh... If you say it's not sweet, should I take some?
It's worth noting that Felix will refuse to eat unsweet candy that Bernadetta offers him in their A+ Support. But he will actually give the candy a try if he has reached B-Support with Lysithea, after he tries her cake. And in their paired ending, he gives up the sword to spend to his life baking sweets with her. So, it suggests that he was just concerned with keeping up appearances.
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Felix: If I were to die here, would you say something like you did when it was my brother? "That's the true end for a knight."
During World War II, ultra-nationalists popularized Yamato Nadeshiko as the female manifestation of Yamato Damashii. It is the term for an idealized Japanese man and refers to the traditional virtues and characteristics associated with him. These include loyalty, courage, honor, selflessness, and a strong sense of duty. This concept is deeply rooted in Japanese culture and history, reflecting the values upheld by the samurai class and other historical figures. The Kamikaze suicide pilots were said to embody Yamato Damashii.
Dimitri: My closest friend was a knight who served the royal family. He was near to my own age, and I admired him greatly. But one day, I watched him die. He stood his ground and fought bravely, but his life was snuffed out in the blink of an eye all the same. Ingrid: I always looked up to Glenn. He was the very picture of a perfect knight—noble and virtuous. In the end, he laid down his life—the ultimate sacrifice. I feel proud of him in ways that words can't quantify. Rodrigue: To this day, I'm proud of Glenn. He gave his life to protect Prince Dimitri. If he had abandoned His Highness and fled, I don't know that I could have forgiven him… I would have been deeply ashamed.
Glenn was less a character and more an archetype. He represented the ideal man of Faerghus that Felix was supposed to aspire to be. Since he was a child, his purpose in life was getting strong enough to beat Glenn at sparring. He felt like he would only be valued if he became more like his brother. And after the Tragedy of Duscur, he felt like his father would only value him if he died.
Sylvain: The old Felix was really adorable, but what happened to make him like that? (Best Answer): Say it's part of growing up.
Whenever Felix lost to Glenn at sparring, he would go crying to Sylvain. It is likely that Sylvain was the one person, other than Glenn, who made Felix feel appreciated for who he really was. Rodrigue, Dimitri, and Ingrid always talked about how admirable Glenn was. Sylvain always talked about how adorable Felix was and was sad about how he had changed. After losing his brother, Felix probably felt like his purpose in life was keeping his promise with Sylvain.
(If Byleth is male) Felix: Having heard of your skills, I'm eager to meet you in battle. Come to the training ground later. There, you will show me what you're capable of.
Regardless of gender, Felix viewed Byleth as his personal rival, just like he did with Glenn when he was a kid.
(If Byleth is female) Sylvain: Such benevolence is a sight to behold! I don't suppose you would care to join me for tea? We could discuss education…and marriage. Felix: Control yourself, Sylvain. I have more important matters to discuss with our new professor. Come to the training ground later. There, you will show me what you're capable of.
Although, interestingly, it was Sylvain's marriage proposal that prompted him to challenge Female Byleth to a sparring match when she first became Professor.
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Felix: …What. I thought it might be someone else, but it's you. Byleth: Meeting someone? Felix: I didn't have such plans. …I just wanted to come to a quiet place.
Felix skipped the ball. But he was already at the Goddess Tower when Byleth arrived. He said he just needed some quiet, but wouldn't the training grounds already be quiet on the night of the ball? In Japanese, it's clearer that he was actually expecting someone else instead of her. There's only one person he could possibly have had in mind. The person he made a promise with long ago.
Felix: You know the legend of the Goddess Tower, don't you? The one where vows always come true. It's so absurd it makes me feel like vomiting…but trying to believe in it might be amusing. Let's make a vow to the Goddess of Fódlan. I will… I will, someday, surpass you. I'll surpass your sword, your skills, and as a warrior, I'll defeat you.
Byleth rejected Sylvain's request to exchange vows. And her vow with Felix was quite unromantic. Before swearing his vow, Felix closed his eyes, which he also does in his A+ Support when he remembers his promise with Sylvain.
Byleth: What kind of vow is that? Felix: What, unsatisfied? If you're looking for a romantic relationship, I'm sorry, but hit up some other man. Unfortunately, I've lived a life devoid of such things. Blades, blood, and battles. That's all I am.
Felix wasn't disinterested in love. He was disillusioned with love. After feeling unloved by his father and cheated on by Sylvain, he was trying to fill the void of love with strength. The only way he knew how to prove his worth to himself was on the battlefield. And that was the only sense of purpose he had left in life, anyway.
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Felix: Once I decided to fight alongside you and the emperor, I was prepared. …Prepared to abandon my country, to strike down my father, and to kill a man I once called a friend. But… my sword feels a bit heavy.
I found Felix's character arc in CF very interesting due to the whole "rotten relationships" idea. Remember how it means "a bad relationship that cannot be cut even if you try"?
Dimitri: Felix… You killed Rodrigue… your own father. Felix: I decided to cut down anyone who stood in my way. Even if it's my own father… Even if it's a friend I spent my childhood with. Dimitri: I see. After this exchange… I have finally resolved to kill you.
When it came down to literally cutting Dimitri out of his life, CF!Felix was very hesitant. He had a sad expression during this dialogue. And it was the same when he fought Ingrid.
Sylvain: Hey, Felix… Remember back when we were kids? We promised we'd die together, didn't we? Felix: ...Yeah, I remember. Sylvain: So… Now, it's gonna be you and me, killing each other. Felix: …Sorry, Sylvain. I'm gonna have to let you die first.
However, he showed absolutely NO hesitation killing Sylvain. In fact, he was even colder to him than he was to Rodrigue. Sylvain was clearly the real target of Felix's revenge in this chapter, not the boar. When Ingrid warned Sylvain that he was going to get stabbed if he kept cheating, it was probably foreshadowing for this moment.
Sylvain did not take CF!Ingrid's disloyalty personally and was not angry at her. He was just happy that her stubbornness hadn't changed. But he was very angry at CF!Felix. It was the betrayal he wanted revenge for. He specifically brought up their promise before expressing his desire to fight to the death. He was fully prepared to be stabbed to death, but he wanted to take Felix with him.
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Rodrigue: Hmm. The dreams I held dear as a child have either already come true…or never will.
The Hero's Relic of House Fraldarius is the Aegis Shield, a reference to Greek mythology. It's likely no coincidence that Rodrigue's middle name is "Achille". He was probably inspired by Achilles, the warrior hero from the Iliad. Achilles' strong reaction to his childhood companion Patroclus' death is often taken as a sign that their relationship was possibly deeper than friendship. He lamented, "My dear comrade Patroclus has fallen—he whom I valued more than all others, and loved as dearly as my own life? I have lost him."
Rodrigue: No matter how much we grieve, the dead won't return. There's no way for them to hear our words. That's why their presence binds those living in the present like a curse. The more we cherished them, the more we become entangled and suffer… I'm not strong enough to scold His Highness for his foolishness. Byleth: Even so… Rodrigue: Yes. It seems scolding and getting them back on their feet is our duty as adults, isn't it? …Despite speaking so arrogantly, in the end, I am unfit to be an adult, aren't I?
When I first played AM and got to the scene called "Entrusting the Future", I assumed Rodrigue was still talking about Glenn when he lamented how the dead can't return.
Rodrigue: We both have a disposition where we can't just live without purpose. Both Felix and me. I lived to serve him, the late King Lambert… to support him as his right hand. Having lost the king I should serve, having lost the purpose of my life… I thought about what I should live for… And in the end, I made fulfilling our promise my new purpose. Shez: A promise… What was the promise about? Rodrigue: He asked me to admonish and correct his child if he ever strayed from the right path.
But after playing AG, there was another scene called "Entrusting the Future". And I realized he was actually talking about Lambert all along, not Glenn. AM!Rodrigue understood why Felix hated him for his comment about Glenn's death and he didn't blame him.
Dimitri: Every time I see the expression of longing on your face when you remember my father, there's always a thought that crosses my mind. I wonder if you wished to live and die alongside him. Rodrigue: …Haha, you're overthinking it, Your Majesty. Despite appearances, I consider myself quite resilient. No, I didn't wish for my own death when Lambert passed. However… if it were to fulfill a promise with him, I believe I'd be satisfied to die.
The concept of "kasaneru" played a large role in Rodrigue's relationship with Dimitri. It was very telling that he decided that his new reason to live was not to help his surviving son get back on his feet, but instead keeping his promise to Lambert. Dimitri had strayed from the right path, but Rodrigue could not scold him. In VW, this enabling caused Dimitri to throw everyone's lives away at Gronder Field. In AM, when the consequences of Dimitri's actions came back to bite him, Rodrigue took the punishment on himself, stating how there are no sins or punishments on the battlefield.
Rodrigue: He left home on his own, and now… this foolish son of mine. Felix: I have no intention of returning to you. Nor do I have any intention of returning to that boar. Rodrigue: …When a child misbehaves, it's the parent's responsibility. Felix… right here and now, you'll die!
Yet Rodrigue said he would not have forgiven Glenn if he had run away at Duscur. He could not even forgive his own teenage son for an act of cowardice on the battlefield. And if Felix joins CF, he has absolutely NO problems punishing him with death. I could understand and empathize with Rodrigue more after playing AG. I don't think he was a bad person. But he was certainly a bad father. He valued Lambert's (and Dimitri's) life above all others, even his own. And even his own sons. And Felix could pick up on that.
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Felix: So, the old man's dead… Dimitri: Yes. Felix: I'll cut you down. Prepare yourself, you damn boar! Dimitri: Very well. Come at me, Felix!
There is unused dialogue that was apparently meant to be an alternate scenario based on whether Felix was defeated in Part 1 and was unrecruited in Part 2. I suspect much of his vitriol towards Dimitri in AM stemmed from jealousy over his father's affection. And because of him, he lost the chance to ever make up with his father. Their AM battle dialogue is the opposite of CF. This Felix had no hesitation cutting Dimitri out of his life violently and was prepared to die with him.
Felix: Sylvain, stand aside. My blade thirsts for his blood, not yours. Sylvain: Then surrender already. I don't want to fight you, either! Felix: …Sorry. That isn't up for discussion.
But he had no desire to cut Sylvain down. Because they could not finish their Support chain, Felix could not reaffirm his promise and find a new reason to live. I'm sure Sylvain knew that he was throwing his life away by trying to kill Dimitri and he was desperate to stop him. It's hard to overstate just how much more emotional Sylvain sounded in Japanese. He really did NOT want to fight Felix.
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Rodrigue: Remember when I told you about the time I acted foolishly and got myself into trouble? Lambert broke through enemy lines and told me, "Don't waste your life." Although he was covered in wounds, so it wasn't very persuasive, was it? Dimitri: Haha, indeed. You two were truly good friends. I'm so envious of my father. Rodrigue: Haha, saying that would only make my son jealous. He'd ask, "What am I to you?"
As a descendant of the hero Fraldarius, Felix was expected to have the same kind of bond with Dimitri that Kyphon had with Loog and Rodrigue had with Lambert. But I never got the impression that he did. In Hopes, he inherits his father's title and position as the king's right-hand, similar to his solo ending in Houses.
His duty was to act as the Shield of Faerghus, and that involved protecting Dimitri, primarily from his own suicidal recklessness. That was a role he played in Houses as well, but he was mainly protecting Sylvain from himself instead of Dimitri. That's not to say that Felix did not care for Dimitri's safety in Houses. He just delegated those duties to Byleth, like when he asked her to "cage the boar".
Sylvain: Be careful, will you? …Jeez, you've even got bruises on your neck. If something were to happen to you, we don't know what will become of Faerghus, do we? Felix: I won't say it'll go smoothly without me, but I always assume I might die on the battlefield. Sylvain: Seriously, Felix… if you were to disappear now, what would happen to Faerghus and His Majesty?
It did not seem like being the Shield of Faerghus gave Felix a true sense of purpose or a reason to live. Sylvain's appeals for him to survive because Faerghus and Dimitri needed him did not seem to be very effective. In Hopes, he was pretty nonchalant about dying on the battlefield, causing Sylvain to scold him for being reckless. It was the exact opposite of their Houses Supports.
Sylvain: You and me, we'll support His Majesty and Faerghus, by complementing each other's weaknesses. Felix: …Yeah. Um… in the future too, I'll count on you. I hate to admit it, but I probably need you. Maybe. Besides… without you, everyone else would be insufferably gloomy. Sylvain: I get it. You don't have to say it. I'll always be with you, no matter what.
In Hopes, Felix was there to help Dimitri get back on his feet, both literally and figuratively. But Sylvain was the only one he could ever lean on. Felix was raised to believe it was his duty to be a literal human shield. And that's why it meant so much to him that Sylvain would always protect him.
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Shez: Well, you know, Sylvain, who always fights with you, ends up being swarmed by enemies... Felix: …That's because every time, he boasts about taking charge with nonsense like "Leave it to me." Well, I believe he'd manage to get through any predicament, no matter how dire.
There was a change in Felix's C-Support with Shez. The localization stated that Felix would always get surrounded by enemies when fighting with Sylvain. But in the Japanese, it was the opposite.
Matthias: Rodrigue, fall back with the duke. The escape route is secured… Leave it to me. Rodrigue: Matthias… What a fool. Make sure you come back alive. You must! Matthias: It's been a while since I've fought to protect a friend's back. My blood is boiling with youthful fervor! Claude: Risking your life to let allies escape, huh? That's the knightly spirit of Faerghus we admire.
When Matthias died in GW, he said he would be waiting for Rodrigue and Lambert on the other side. It's extremely similar to what Sylvain says when he dies in CF. And there were many parallels between Sylvain and his father in Hopes.
Felix: I can still stand… I can still wield my sword. I can still fight…! Tch… With injuries like these, I won't withdraw…! Sylvain: Felix! Stand down! Aww, look at you all beaten up… Leave this to us and fall back, okay? Felix: Ugh… You better come back. If you're planning to die, I won't forgive you, Sylvain!
When Dedue is low on health during the SB battle at Ailell, Dimitri begs him to fall back because he cannot afford to lose him. But when Felix is low on health and can no longer stand, Sylvain is the one who comes to his aid. Rodrigue made it clear that he expected his son to fight to the death. But because of Sylvain he retreats. His future with Sylvain was the reason he chose to keep on living.
Sylvain: Ah… Felix. I'm glad you're safe. Felix: You, always trying to shield me... Don't be reckless. Even though you're weak, you always, always...! Sylvain: It's fine as long as you're safe. As long as you're alive, I… Felix: You stupid bastard! Don't joke like that. If you ever dare to die, I won't forgive you…!
It's more obvious in Japanese, but what Felix said to Sylvain at the Valley of Torment was almost the exact same as their A+ Support. Sylvain probably knew he was going to die, just like Matthias did in GW. He was fighting to the death as he avenged Ingrid. Even though he wanted to die together with him, if it came down to it, Sylvain was always content to sacrifice his life to let Felix live. He died as a true knight so that Felix wouldn't have to. Felix had the type of bond with Sylvain that he was supposed to have with Dimitri.
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Felix: …Well, I was prepared for it to come to this. With Father… and also with that boar, we'll eventually have to part ways.
Felix did not want to become a knight for many reasons. In Japanese, he used the phrase "袂を分かつ" (tasuki wo wakatsu). It literally means "to separate the sleeves" and is often used metaphorically. The imagery evokes the idea of two individuals going their separate ways, often signifying a farewell or divergence of paths. That is his entire motivation if he joins CF.
Felix: For the past five years, I've been fighting under the emperor. …I've slain quite a number of enemies. Now, I must look just like that boar from back then. …It's the face of a cruel beast that revels in blood and violence.
But if he takes that path, he becomes the very boar he hated.
Felix: …He's dead. I heard he was beheaded… But… I didn't see his head. If, by some chance, he's leading that army… Byleth: Are you truly ready to fight? Felix: …Don't underestimate me. Even if it's him, I'm prepared to kill.
In VW, Felix suspected that Dimitri was still alive all along. But he still chose to stay with the Alliance.
Felix: …I never truly understood his hatred and anguish towards the Empire. If it were me…could I have saved him? Could I have… stopped him?
Afterwards, he wondered if he could have saved him from dying like a wild boar. Even if he had stayed with the Kingdom, it wouldn't have made a difference. Only Byleth would have been able to stop him. Felix would have just died pointlessly at Gronder like everyone else. But there was no way for him to know that. In both routes, he suffers from regret and wishes he'd died alongside Dimitri. He is a lost soul, who lives only for the sword and fights with a will to die.
Felix & Sylvain (Non-AM) After the war, minor skirmishes continued throughout various regions in Fódlan. Felix, upon learning that there were battles still to be fought, chose to forsake his noble status and make a living as a swordsman. Over a decade later, he took on the role of a mercenary, and his employer turned out to be Sylvain, who had inherited the title of Margrave Gautier. The two of them were overjoyed to reunite, but their diverging paths meant that their fates would never intertwine further. After finishing his work, Felix left Sylvain's territory, embarking on another journey as a wanderer. It was a few years later when Sylvain received a sword that was unmistakably Felix's.
This is the ending you get if Felix uses his sword to cut a path to his ideal future. While he can eventually give up the sword and find some peace if he has a female partner, his paired ending with Sylvain is the single most tragic ending in the game. Despite having a chance reunion, Sylvain is unable to save him. While the reason for this is never stated, the Japanese ending offers a clue.
The phrase used for “diverging paths” in Japanes is "道を違えた" (michi o tagaeta). It also translates to "took the wrong path" or "strayed from the path." It implies making a mistake or deviating from the correct course of action, moral path, or intended direction. It emphasizes the idea of going astray or making an error in judgment.
Sylvain's arc was about realizing that his Crest did not decide his fate, he did. After Felix left him, he probably settled down with a random noblewoman, had children, and it was simply too late for him to start a new life with Felix. Because Felix went astray and chose an immoral path, it caused Sylvain to make a big mistake. Felix follows in Glenn's footsteps and dies alone, full of pain and regret. And I can't imagine that Sylvain's fate was any better when Felix's sword arrived on his doorstep. He probably became the next Wall of Ice. They can only be together in AM and their non-AM ending strongly emphasizes how that was the intended path for them.
Felix: Why did they die while I lived? …Even now, there's not a day I don't question. But I'm not as spoiled as you. I'll take my regrets to the grave. There are more important things to me now.
The localization did a faithful job with the Dimitri/Felix A-Support. It's just that, in Japanese, there was a line about how Felix would take any regrets to his grave. It was very similar to his A-Support with Rodrigue in Hopes. In AM, Rodrigue dies, and Felix never got to apologize for punching him. He even left a note in the confession box about that. But in Hopes, he could get closure with his father.
Felix and Dimitri's relationship was FAR from healthy. It probably would be much better for both of them to sever their rotten relationship once and for all and walk separate paths in life. And their A-Support was written with the idea that, if this was the final time Felix spoke to Dimitri one-on-one, that would be okay. He said what he needed to say and wouldn't have any regrets. Dimitri could sense his underlying compassion and was content to leave it at that.
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Flayn: But isn't there a future beyond that where Felix can avoid taking lives? Felix: …It's fine to dream of such a future, but I don't belong there. After all, I've been swinging a sword ever since I was born. ...Swordsmen are troublesome creatures. Fighting for peace, yet losing our purpose when peace finally arrives. Flayn: …Haha, if that's the case, you need not worry. […] If you felt like you lost your purpose in life, surely you would find a new purpose. It's not like you to fear loss. Felix: …...… You really are something, aren't you? Huh… I've never even thought about it. Maybe there is such a way of living after all. ...I'm starting to get interested. Perhaps swinging a sword for the future you dream of wouldn't be such a bad idea.
One way Felix resembled his father was that he couldn't live without a great purpose in life, and if he lost that purpose, he'd need something to fill the void. He needed a future to look forward to during peacetime. He was intrigued by the idea that one day he could chop wood, fruits, and vegetables instead of people.
Felix: The millennium festival? Talking about festivities at a time like this, you're as carefree as ever, huh… Sylvain: No, no. While it's a celebration, it's also a political gathering where rulers from various countries gather. It wouldn't hurt to think about the future, right? You can't stay uninvolved either. Felix: Well, that may be true. For now, focus on the battle at hand, Sylvain. If you die here, there won't be any millennium festival or anything. Sylvain: Oops, a valid point! Well then, for now, I'll quietly prepare for the deployment. Felix: Do that. Don't neglect your preparations and end up losing your life in some trivial place.
He wielded a sword because he was afraid of loss. Getting stronger would not fulfill him the same way a relationship could. His non-AM endings really emphasize the fact that the sword was just filling the void of a partner.
Felix: I find it easier to wield a sword than to hold a woman's hand.
But personally, I think he was the only gay character in 3H (well, other than perhaps his father). He got along well with women, but I was struck by how unromantic his paired endings with them were. He is the only man to propose to Byleth at the training grounds instead of the Goddess Tower. He spends a lot of time apart from her in their paired ending and is happiest exchanging swords instead of words when they actually do see each other. It felt more like he was replacing the loss of his brother through her than really being in love.
In his ending with Flayn, he continues to wield a sword as Dimitri's right-hand and only gives it up in favor of a quiet life on his estate when Dimitri dies. When he marries Mercedes, Bernie, or Dorothea, he becomes the king's right-hand and travels across Fódlan with Dimitri. He spends a lot of time away from Bernie. Dorothea has to accompany him on the battlefield to get quality time.
His ending with Leonie is not romantic and they just become drinking buddies. In his ending with Ingrid, he gives up the sword when he's injured and does not regret it. The only two female paired endings that don't mention warfare, swords, or knighthood are Annette and Lysithea. But it felt like the joke was that he actually fell in love with he singing, not Annette herself. And with Lysithea, she dies young and leaves behind her cake recipe.
Felix: You're not cut out to be a knight. How about you start seriously looking for a marriage partner? Ingrid: …What's that supposed to mean? Felix: Just as I said. Ingrid: I understand that you dislike things like chivalry and knightly pride. Just because of that, you keep running away from your duty as the heir of the house… You have no right to speak so high and mighty.
In Japanese Felix did tell Ingrid to go find a husband, but he used the word "結婚相手" (kekkon aite) instead of "夫" (otto) which means husband. "Kekkon aite" refers to someone whom you are seriously considering as a potential marriage partner but may not be formally engaged to or married yet. He wasn't telling her to go find the next man to offer a huge dowry and immediately get engaged.
He was saying that she would be better off dating, finding a serious partner that she loves, and eventually getting married. He did not say this in a disparaging way. He didn't want her to end up like Glenn nor did he want her to blindly follow the orders of a king who he considered bloodthirsty. He genuinely thought that being a wife would be a safer and more fulfilling lifestyle than being a knight.
Dimitri & Felix Dimitri formally succeeded to the throne of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus after his coronation, dedicating his lifetime to the governance and reform of Fódlan. Behind many of his achievements stood Felix, the Duke of Fraldarius, who sometimes acted as the king's right-hand man and at other times served as his advisor. Bound by a lifelong steadfast friendship, it is said that Felix mourned more intensely at Dimitri's passing than even the queen herself. The tale of their lives, akin to the legendary Lion King Loog and his sworn friend Kyphon, will be passed down through the ages as one of the stories that adorn the history of Fódlan.
In any case, Felix was projecting his own feelings onto Ingrid. If you pair her with Dimitri, it says she supported him as a wife and queen, but still insisted on fighting on the front lines in battle like a knight. If you pair Felix with Dimitri, it says he mourned the king's death more than the queen. Ya know, the wife. Chivalry promotes homoromantic social bonding among men. Rodrigue had a wife and kids, but he devoted his life to a married (presumably heterosexual) man. He used his position as "sworn friend" of the king to fill the void of an actual gay relationship. He lost his reason for living when Lambert died. In this ending, Felix ends up following in his father's footsteps. I don't think that's a satisfying ending for him.
Dimitri/Felix: "彼らは生涯固い友情で結ばれ" means "They were bound by a lifelong strong friendship." This phrase emphasizes the steadfast and enduring nature of their friendship. The word "固い" means "firm" or "strong," implying a friendship that is resilient and unwavering. Sylvain/Felix: "生涯無二の友であり続けた" means "They remained lifelong inseparable friends." This phrase emphasizes the unique and unparalleled nature of their friendship. The term "無二" means "unparalleled" or "incomparable," suggesting that their bond was extraordinary and unmatched.
I would also like to compare the descriptions of friendship in the Dimitri/Felix ending to the Sylvain/Felix ending. Both phrases convey a deep sense of friendship, but they emphasize slightly different aspects. Dimitri/Felix emphasizes the enduring strength and solidity of their bond. In terms of depth, Sylvain/Felix carries a stronger sense of exclusivity and uniqueness in their friendship.
The term "無二" was also used in Ingrid's AM paired endings with Ashe and Dedue. Her arc was about belonging to herself, not a man. She wanted to go down in history as a knight, not as a wife. For that reason, her AM paired endings with Ashe and Dedue don't specify her marital status. But the writers still wanted to suggest that she and her male partner were possibly lovers. Since it can also mean “inseparable” in certain contexts, "無二" was chosen for their bond.
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Felix & Sylvain (AM) Felix, who succeeded his deceased father Rodrigue as Duke Fraldarius, and Sylvain, who inherited the title of Margrave Gautier after his father's passing, both devoted their efforts to the restoration and prosperity of the Kingdom. Even amidst their busy days, their friendship never wavered. Felix would occasionally show up at the Gautier family's residence and insult Sylvain, and Sylvain, in turn, would visit the Fraldarius house frequently, solely to tease Felix. Throughout their lives, they remained inseparable friends, and there is even an anecdote that they coincidentally passed away on the same day.
In this ending, both men inherit their fathers' titles, but neither of them is forced to fulfill their unwanted patriarchal duty. Their bond is characterized by mutual devotion, not chivalry or bloodline. Their relationship effectively goes back to how it was when they were kids. He apparently made peace with Sreng as Sylvain is free to go where he wants and spends his life with someone he loves, not just someone he can have Crest babies with. While he becomes a famous cheater in his solo ending, and a renowned lord in his others, here historians remember him most for his closeness with Felix.
Like Rodrigue, Felix wished to live and die alongside another man. When paired with most of his wives, he becomes the king's right-hand, a role that would require him to wield a sword and travel. But not in this ending. He stays in Fraldarius territory so he can be available for frequent surprise visits. Sylvain was his true purpose in life, and neither can live without the other. And to me, that is the ideal ending to both of their character arcs. The Shield of Faerghus died like a true knight. "The Shield's Successor" died like a true wife.
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