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roraruu · 8 months

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YOTO: July

Leonie/Bernadetta. Stars/friends to enemies to lovers.

The first time Bernadetta spots Leonie out by the little fishing lake is after Jeralt dies.

She sits on the edge of the dock, with her naked toes just grazing the surface to barely kiss the water.

Bernadetta originally snuck out of her room to snag some cake from the mess hall. But as she was creeping along the path, humming to herself, she heard a sniffle, then a sigh and saw Leonie seated there at the dock.

Bernadetta doesn’t talk to her, just observes her from her perfect little hiding spot outside Petra’s room. The shadows shield her enough from Leonie’s view. It’s been raining for the last few days so the air is very humid and there’s little relief; but the sky has opened up and there’s only wispy remnants of storm colours.

Bernadetta has never seen the stars shine so brightly. Varley is an arid region, but the skies are mostly covered by smoke from the factories that produce their weapons. Swords and scriptures, that’s what her people are known for.

She wants to open her mouth to ask if Leonie’s okay, because Bernadetta concerned and Leonie is Leonie. She’s like a hornet, strong, fast, zippy. Once, when she was sitting in on a lancing lecture to pass a horse backing riding exam—mandatory as she skipped so many of her assigned shifts in the stables—Leonie got hit several times by Dimitri of all people and did nothing more than stagger back and yell at him “again”. She even went as far as to taunt him, asking “is that all you got?”

Something inside Bernadetta—probably her anxiety—tells her that this is treacherous.

Maybe Leonie doesn’t want visitors? Maybe she came out here for peace and air?

Before she knows it, she’s calling out her name softly. “Leonie? Are you… um… okay?”

There’s a distinctly snotty sound and then Leonie vehemently insisting she’s alright, she’s okay in a salty, tear-streaked voice that insists she’s not okay.

Bernadetta stands in the dark night and says, “I don’t… um… know what you’re going through but uh… M-Maybe cake would help?”

“Cake?”

Bernadetta feels stupid. “Ye-Yeah. Cake always makes me feel a little better. And watching the stars.”

Leonie pauses.

“I-I was just going to go watch some. B-But maybe we could. Um. Watch the stars together?”

“That sounds good.” Leonie’s voice is small.

Bernadetta hurries and gets two slabs of cake—eating a bit of hers on the walk back—some stale cookies and thermos of tea to bring back to Leonie. She settles in beside her, but not to close and pushes the cake and cookies closer to her. Leonie finds it in her to laugh, and says “You can come closer, Bernadetta, I’m just crying, not sick.”

Bernadetta sheepishly slides closer along the dock. Panic rises inside her but it feels different this time. She fights back and tells it that it will not best her. “A-Are you okay?” Then admonishes herself. “S-Stupid Bernie, of course you’re not okay…”

“No, don’t worry.” Leonie runs a hand over her face, pushing back her bangs. “I’m just missing Jeralt. Captain… Captain Jeralt.”

“Oh.”

“He was sorta like a dad to me.” Leonie confesses softly, then mutters, “but I guess you figured that out already.”

“Sorta, yeah.”

There’s a silence between the two of them for a moment before Bernadetta squeezes her eyes shut tight and says, “I called Alois ‘Dad’ by accident.”

Leonie’s brow furrows and she sputters out a little choked laugh that’s obviously half-forced, half-genuine. “Do I wanna know?”

“Um… my father… He isn’t good to me.” She’s careful with her words, for she thinks that they’ll get back to him somehow. “Alois reminded me of my uncle, Francois. I always felt comfortable around him… I called him father a few times.”

Leonie looks at her like she understands what Bernadetta means. Her hand clasps over Bernadetta’s and for once—and at the perfect time—Bernadetta doesn’t flinch. “My old man wasn’t good to me either. Jeralt was.”

“We’re lucky to have them… Aren’t we?” Bernadetta asks.

Leonie’s voice cracks again. “Yeah. We are.”

“Stars are pretty tonight.” Bernadetta says.

Leonie nods. “Yeah. They are.”

—

Leonie is dragging Bernadetta back to her horse. Well, not dragging, but leading her back with her hand in Bernadetta’s. It’s late at night, after lights out. Leonie insists that she’s found the perfect spot to stargaze and when Leonie is right, she is right.

Bernadetta is shy and nervous and demure and ladylike. When Leonie told her of the plan during the lecture on tactics during battle, Bernadetta’s eyes sparkled in wonder and she murmured in curiosity if it was the same spot that Caspar took her to. She brought a little fabric knot of snacks—stolen hard cheese and bread—and her sketchbook with some thick charcoals.

“W-Would you let me draw you?” Bernadetta asks nervously. Leonie can’t help but think she looks pretty with that crimson blush and wide eyes. In the back of her mind, she wishes that Bernadetta was a little braver, not for Leonie but for herself.

“I’ve never had someone draw me.” Leonie muses. “So yeah, of course.”

The horse is tied up beneath a tree and Leonie half expects to be posed like an elegant lady—in the back of her mind, she wishes that Bernadetta does that, fluffing up her messy hair, lacing her hands in her lap, tilting her chin up while murmuring ‘now look at me’. But her hair is short and her face is round and her clothes are mismatched compared to Bernadetta’s pretty eyelet nightgown and the little sweater over top of it.

Bernadetta is on her feet and pulls her up, she’s much stronger than Leonie expected. She drags Leonie next to the horse and then instructs her to braid its mane. “Or whatever you do around them. Just act natural.” Bernadetta insists. Her voice is giddy. “Like you’re just in the stables.”

Leonie does so, but it’s hard to act natural when Bernadetta’s big eyes are focused on her. But they’re not focused on her per se; they’re focused on a spot next to her, in a space that isn’t hers. Does that make sense?

In a half hour, Bernadetta has a sketch and is showing Leonie it as they eat stolen cheese and bread and gaze at the stars. “I-It’s not even my best work.” Bernadetta says. “It looks quite bad really. Oh goddess you hate it—”

Leonie rests a hand on Bernadetta’s shoulder. “No, Bernadetta. I love it.”

Bernadetta’s face goes red and she hides her face in her hands in embarrassment. She murmurs something unintelligible, and when Leonie asks her again, Bernadetta practically yells, “I’ll come to Sauin and paint you proper someday!”

That makes Leonie smile for real, perhaps for the first time since Jeralt died.

—

Bernadetta isn’t a gambler, but when she does play cards, she’s a shark. Her mind is hardwired for mathematics, for chance and probability. It’s probably why she’s so good at judging when to run and hide and when it play it safe.

Leonie however, likes to gamble only when she knows she’ll win. And while she and Bernadetta are friends, one of them is rich and the other is very poor. Leonie looks like she’s got the upper hand, a cute little smirk and sharp glimpse of the eye, and Bernadetta pulls out a 15-ten, launching her ahead of Leonie and into the final peg.

Leonie sighs and hands slides the little gold marks to Bernadetta. “You’re too good at this.” She sighs. “Crib isn’t my game.”

“Don’t say that.” Bernadetta insists, taking the change and rattling it in her hand. “I th-think I have enough to get us some tea.”

“We can have tea back under the gazebo. The professor won’t mind sharing some leaves, and I’m sure if you ask Lorenz for a teapot he’ll lend it. He’s got like twenty or something. Probably.”

Bernadetta pouts and shakes her head. “I won! I want to treat you.”

“Isn’t that a waste of money?”

“Shouldn’t you hush and let me treat you?”

Leonie can’t fight the logic in that and shuts up. But before they can get down to the tea shop down below in town, Bernadetta’s anxiety spikes. “I don’t think I can do it.” She mumbles and grabs Leonie’s hand for support.

Both girls blush hard. Bernadetta feels a little stronger when Leonie squeezes it back and tells her that it’s okay, that they can to another time. But Bernadetta is adamant. She wants to give Leonie something. They pass a flower seller and Bernadetta, overcome with energy and courage actually asks the seller for a bouquet of sunflowers. Her words come out in one breath, in sentences that linger along and make Leonie wonder why she’s never like this around her. Bernadetta comes running back with an armful of stalky blooming sunflowers that reflect their golden-yellow light back onto her pallid face.

She thrusts them at Leonie and says, “H-Here! For you!”

Leonie’s never had flowers given to her before. Back home in Sauin when Saint Cethleann day hit—which was typically recognized as a day to celebrate forms of love—people would always exchange flowers. Leonie never got a single one, aside from her mother but that doesn’t really count.

Leonie blushes hard and takes them from Bernadetta, murmuring a barely audible, “thank you.” Bernadetta must not notice her blush, for she turned away quickly. It’s a huge stack and Leonie plucks one, a small one that was plucked before it had fully bloomed so the petals are still small and holds it out to Bernadetta.

“But they’re for you.” She protests.

“And I’m giving you one.”

Bernadetta vehemently refuses, all the way up to the monastery. That night, when Leonie’s doing a final walk before bed, she takes the small sunflower and leaves it out in front of Bernadetta’s door.

The next morning, when Leonie’s the first one up and doing her morning stretches, she walks past Bernadetta’s door and smiles when she sees the sunflower gone.

—

Bernadetta is hiding behind a table of hors d’oeuvres at the ball. She hasn’t danced yet, refuses everyone until Leonie comes over and takes her hand and pulls her to the floor. Bernadetta was never a great dancer, always too jumpy and quick, which is why she’s probably a great archer. Leonie’s always been light on her feet but uncoordinated when it comes to dancing.

So instead of the floor, where they’ll surely bump into people and piss them off, Leonie takes Bernadetta outside where they spin in the grass and collapse in the blades laughing and dizzy.

And then, as Bernadetta’s about to get up, Leonie leans in and kisses her.

It’s a short burst of a first kiss that makes both girls burn bright red and their hearts pound so loudly that they can hear it in their ears.

All Leonie can think of is “Oh goddess, oh fuck I’m so stupid, oh goddess,” in a repetitive loop.

Meanwhile, Bernadetta is staring off into space like she’s zoning out, her mind awash with “Well, everything makes sense now.”

Leonie’s mouth opens to apologize, to sputter out apologies like what Bernadetta would do; but as she begins to speak, the words die against Bernadetta’s lips as she kisses her again and again.

—

“The stars are prettier in Sauin.” Leonie says.

Bernadetta can’t help but believe her. They’re probably so much prettier against the open fields and bright skies. Wildflowers in the vale. The skies in Varley are shit in comparison, always covered up and smoky.

“I want to see them one day.” Bernadetta tells her.

Leonie presses a kiss against her temple. “I’ll show you. Promise, Bern.”

Bernadetta curls into her chest, her arms snaking around Leonie’s waist tightly. Leonie laughs and it reverberates through Bernadetta’s entire body. She feels warm, she feels at home.

“I’ll hold you to it, Sunflower.”

—

Leonie developed a taste for alcohol young. From fine brandy to shitty moonshine, she isn’t picky. But she honestly prefers it in her mouth instead of washing it over open wounds.

She’s had a stash of gin—not her favourite but it does the trick pretty quick—that’s just right to clean broken skin and wounds. She keeps it stashed in her boot, probably negating its purpose.

The arrow is lodged in Bernadetta’s thigh and she’s been unconscious for a while. She slumped over into Leonie and her grip went limp about twenty miles away from Varley Manor. Edelgard had ordered them to retreat if things looked bad, and things really started looking bad. Leonie had a feeling that the monastery would be either taken by the church and kingdom or overrun with wounded so she ran. It was the bravest thing she could do.

Leonie grabbed Bernadetta by the waist and hauled her up onto her horse, ignoring her yelp and her cries that Petra was left behind, that Petra was going to die and leave her siblings behind, that she needs to help Petra—

Leonie had grabbed Bernadetta’s hands and told her, in a low tone, a warning tone, a tone that she hated, “We can’t help Petra if we die.”

That sobered Bernadetta up. “I’ll guide Bennet. You focus on protecting Petra.” Leonie ordered.

Bernadetta nodded, her eyes glistening with tears. The two became a cohesive unit—Leonie guiding the horse, Bernadetta nocking arrows and protecting Petra from a distance as best as she could. Leonie circled around the town of Garreg Mach, fully intending to get back up to where Petra was so that Bernadetta could take Bennet and speed off to safety and Leonie could jump off and help Petra, who was surrounded.

Just as they were rounding the battlefield, another archer came outta nowhere. They missed Leonie but hit Bernadetta with a shrieking cry that made Leonie’s ears pop and Bernadetta drops her bow and cuss loudly.

Instincts drove Leonie to get the fuck off the field. Healers were scarce and her own vulnerary stash was near-depleted from a particularly nasty hit from Alois, who had nearly taken out Bernadetta. Leonie had seen it coming, saw the panic and fear in Bernadetta’s eyes, and remembered that one time, down at the lake, where Bernadetta recalled how similar he was to her uncle.

So Leonie had jumped in, Leonie had taken the hit and then knocked the shit out of Alois, ignoring the fact that he had a wife and child at home, ignoring the connection he had with Bernadetta, ignoring the fact that he had mentored her in axe-throwing when she first got to the academy.

Ignoring that he too had lost Jeralt.

Leonie snapped the reins and directed Bennet—who had been startled by Bernadetta’s high-pitched scream—away from the field.

“Okay Bernie, okay,” Leonie’s voice was uneasy, and she was trying her best to make it calm. Bennet got scared and in between soothing Bernadetta and the horse, Leonie was stretched thin. “Talk about something. Tell me anything, come on, Bernie!”

Bernadetta was half-sobbing, half-screaming and began spilling the entire story of a five-part saga about a hunter and a princess, a Cinderella story of sorts. Leonie took the reins in one hand and searched for the vulnerary that she tucked into her pockets and fished it out. She handed it back to Bernadetta who chugged the rest of it and cringed.

When Leonie realizes that the gin is in her pocket.—Leonie kept her talking by asking about the book she’s writing. Each time her voice got too faint, Leonie would shift the reins into one hand and clutch Bernadetta’s arm hard and ask, more like yelling over the hoofbeats, “okay Bern, what happens next? What happens next?”

When Bernadetta doesn’t answer, Leonie panics. Leonie isn’t used to panicking. Her mind goes through the motions of control, of what’s right, what’s logical.

We need to stop.

She pulls hard on the reins and the horse halts, whinnying in protest. Leonie hops down from the horse and Bernadetta almost falls.

Leonie braces Bernadetta and helps her down as best she can. In a panic, Leonie undoes the cloak around her waist and bunches it up to make a shitty little cushion. She tucks it under Bernadetta’s hips. Elevation. Elevation is key.

She searches for a pulse, her breath. She’s breathing but shallow, and her pulse is weak.

Leonie stumbles over cusses. The vulnerary only did so much, and it wasn’t enough. First aid, she needs first aid. But pulling the arrow out makes a breeding ground for infection. And pulling out the arrow is not a good idea for the extra blood loss.

Now, she’s wishing she paid more attention to Lorenz in between his patronizing comments and remarks as he tried to teach her white magic. Leonie was almost hopeless. Guy was a jerk most of the time but he knew what he was talking out.

All she has is here and now. Stop the bleeding. She orders herself. She has to stop the bleeding before Bernadetta’s weak pulse goes flat and she stops breathing.

Leonie grabs the cloak and bunches it around the arrowhead. Bernadetta’s body flinches instinctively and Leonie feels uncomfortable hope. Don’t get ahead of yourself Pinelli. She warns.

The professor would know what to do. She keeps thinking that Byleth would tell her what to do. But Professor Byleth is back on the front lines with Edelgard.

She dodges those thoughts as deftly as she can and searches the packs for alcohol. Leonie developed a taste for alcohol pretty young. Bernadetta did too, though she can’t hold her booze.

Leonie waterfalls it into her mouth and bitter, intense juniper and florals run over her tongue to take the edge off, breathes a sigh and steadies herself.

“I’m sorry Bern.” She says before dousing her thigh in gin. Before the alcohol washes over her broken skin, Leonie is murmuring white magic spells, tripping over the words and half-crying because she can’t lose Bernadetta. She can’t. Bernadetta has to live because Leonie’s lost too much already—

Bernadetta shocks awake and stares at Leonie, eyes dazed and unable to hold Leonie as her focus. Leonie doesn’t care. Instead she’s sobbing and clutching onto Bernadetta and praising the all stars in the sky that the stupid spell worked.

—

Bernadetta tries to slow her thundering heart but she can’t. Camping sounded more fun on the first night, but after a week, her back is aching and she’s struggling to find a comfortable way to stretch out without kicking Leonie.

The idea, at first, was to try and get to Varley where they could hide out. Bernadetta remembers a few empty houses that they could wait out in for a few days until the monastery is recovered and they can contact the professor.

But after a few days, Bernadetta sends a message by express to the professor asking for instructions and gets nothing back. And worse, every time she tries to remember the way home to Varley it gets foggier. She’s blocked part of it out, the pathways and vale that’s cloaked in thick, jet-black pines. It would be easier if she could just fucking remember.

She begins to get worried when Leonie gets frustrated with her inability to remember. Leonie will ask questions over and over, trying to figure out a solution, but each time Bernadetta cries out that she doesn’t know or can’t remember, Leonie’s patience burns away.

At least they’re going back into imperial territory. Most of the noble houses bound together and are in agreement to fight against the church and Kingdom, but there’s still dissenters and Bernadetta is constantly on the edge of a panic attack.

Their plan becomes treacherous and after a week of camping with stolen blankets and in dirty clothes, Bernadetta is done.

“I can’t remember the way home.” She says into Leonie’s back.

Leonie stirs a little. Her voice is distant. “You can’t?”

”No.”

“Seriously?”

“I can’t, I’m sorry, Leonie, I can’t.”

“Can you remember the path you took up to the monastery.”

“No.” Bernadetta’s voice gets shaky. “I… I was pretty much shoved in a bag and carried there, I remember nothing. I’m sorry Leonie, I’m sorry.”

Leonie sighs and sits up. Bernadetta stares at her frame, lit by the stars. Her freckles melt into her skin and disappear; shame, for they were Bernadetta’s favourite part of her, they looked like a tiny sky painted across her cheeks and down her neck.

“Then you have to go back to Edelgard.”

Bernadetta sits up. “M-Me? What about you?”

Leonie is cold and quiet. “I can’t go back.” Her voice is defeated. “Claude needs me.”

“You’re deserting? She’ll kill you.“ Bernadetta says desperately. Her hand finds Leonie’s and holds it tight. “Leo, I can’t—I-I-I won’t… Don’t…”

Leonie’s arm comes around her shoulder for a moment and she feels her lips brush her hair. “I’ll run with you. I’ll run! W-We can figure something else out! We can go to the kingdom.”

“They know you’re with Edelgard.” Leonie warns. “The second someone sees you, or recognizes you, you’re done.”

“But I don’t… I can’t. I can’t be away from you, Leonie.” Bernadetta holds her gaze. The words jumble in her throat, thicken her tongue and take forever to come out but Leonie is patient. “You make me strong.”

Leonie just stares and holds her hand, her calloused thumb running over the back of Bernadetta’s palm. She’s quiet, gentle and attentive as Bernadetta attempts to regain herself and fails horribly. Bernadetta wants to collapse into Leonie’s arms and sob and yell that it’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fucking fair.

“We’ll make it someday.” Leonie promises her. “We’ll just wait and see, okay? I know this isn’t the end, I know it, Bern.”

Bernadetta feels her world come crashing down on her, but Leonie’s holding it up like she always does. She’s always so cool under pressure, nothing ever gets to her and it’s one of the reasons why Bernadetta is so intrigued by her.

“We’ll head back to the monastery tomorrow.” Leonie decides. “How’s your leg?”

“Fine. I’ll survive.”

It still hurts a lot, and Bernadetta’s moving slower than she should but the important thing is that she’s alive. She would’ve been dead without Leonie. Soon enough, Leonie won’t be there to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.

“They’ll take care of it better, I’m sure they have the supplies.”

Tears prick at Bernadetta’s eyes. Her arms slither around Leonie’s waist. She hugs Leonie tight, trying to remember how she’s all strength, all hard edges and sinewy muscle. Every since really taking archery seriously, Bernadetta’s slowly become like that, but village life and planting and sowing and hunting since she was a kid has sculpted Leonie into that mould.

Bernadetta focuses on the feeling of Leonie’s body against hers, her steady breathing, the rhythmic gentle thud of her heart. Bernadetta focuses on that for a long, long time until Leonie melts into sleep—she’s always been a better camper than Bernadetta—then slowly extracts herself from around Leonie.

She gets up, empties her pockets of her change, they were playing an anxious game of cribbage, trying to pass the time before the attack on the monastery, and leaves her entire coin purse of cribbage winnings by Leonie’s head, writing in the dirt, You win, Sunflower.

She says goodbye to Bennet, leaves all the rations they collected and her cloak because Leonie will surely need it and leaves the campground without looking back.

—

In five years, Bernadetta throws herself on Edelgard’s mercy; Leonie does the same with Claude. Naturally, as both are skilled fighters, they’re accepted back into the fold.

Edelgard keeps a close eye on Bernadetta to make sure she doesn’t run and hide. Claude makes sure that Lorenz, who has employed Leonie as a mercenary out of the knowledge of his father, keeps tabs on her.

Bernadetta doesn’t dare send a letter to Leonie, though she writes many and addresses them to the hearth in her room. Leonie doesn’t either, because she goes where the money goes.

But soon enough, five years lapse and the war goes full tilt.

—

Leonie is thrown from her horse. Bennet, the dumb bastard, rears up when Raphael lets out a roar to gas himself up. The battle’s barely started and she’s already half-concussed. The one fucking battle, that is the most important and she’s already messed up.

Leonie forces herself up into the saddle and follows Claude’s orders. She and Raphael are on the front line, their job is to cut a path through so that their reinforcements—mages—can sneak in and set fire to the field.

It all goes to plan, Leonie cuts down allies and enemies alike, their faces and bodies bleeding together like paint.

There, across the field she sees Bernadetta at the ballista. She looks different. Stronger, more mature, there’s a fire in her eyes that Leonie never saw before and she keeps murmuring, that can’t be Bernadetta, that can’t be her. It can’t be.

Then it occurs to Leonie that she’s on the bridge they’re going to set fire to.

Bernadetta, who left her in the ruins of a ravaged town. Bernadetta, who she thought would have died long ago. Bernadetta, who she would never have imagined in a thousand years to be here, on the front line at the Battle of Gronder Field.

Before she realizes it, Leonie is barrelling towards Bernadetta, screaming her name like it’s the only words she knows. She’s breathless, her lungs burning like hell as she pushes poor Bennet, faster, faster, faster.

She feels an arrow graze her shoulder. From the corner of her eye, Leonie sees crimson seep through her shirt sleeve and she cusses. Bernadetta nocks another one and screams at her to stop or she’ll shoot again. There’s a wild look in her eyes, a dangerous look, a look that says, “we have unfinished business”.

Leonie feels a lurch of anxiety and stops short of dismounting Bennet.

There’s a tense moment of eye contact as Leonie drinks in how Bernadetta has changed. Her hair is different, like she’s finally gotten used to using a hair brush, and she’s taller, much taller, almost as tall as Leonie herself. And she looks mature in a bad way, in a way that gives her dark circles beneath her eyes and quaking hands. She doesn’t look like the Bernadetta that she kissed, the Bernadetta that she shared secrets with, the Bernadetta that she loved and still loves.

She must have gone back to her father. Leonie shivers as she thinks it.

There’s the din of swords and shields. Leonie almost drops her lance. Bennet grows anxious with all the fighting.

“They’re gonna light this on fire.” Leonie tells her against the deafening sound. “If not them, us. You have to move.”

Bernadetta stares at her. “You said they’d protect me.”

“I was wrong!” Leonie cries out desparately. “I was so fucking wrong! I should have protected you. But you should have stayed! All you had to do was stay!”

Bernadetta’s eyes flicker behind her. She keeps the bowstring pulled tight as Leonie gets off Bennet and then lets it fly into Leonie’s shoulder. It lands hard and Bernadetta drops her bow, immediately realizing what she’s done.

She’s swearing, half screaming the words and then a cacophony of Oh goddess, oh Goddess, but all Leonie can think about is that she’s missed that anxious little voice and then realizes, “Oh fuck. You shot me.”

Bernadetta is stumbling over apologies before taking action. Like years before, but now in reverse, Bernadetta hauls Leonie on the back of Bennet and snaps the reins hard. She yells at Leonie to tell her about Sauin Village, about her home, about her travels, and Leonie, while feeling the blood ooze from her shoulder and the cloud of adrenaline fade from her mind, can talk only of the stars back in Sauin as they desert Gronder Field and their armies.

—

Bernadetta, Eternal Loner Leonie, Blade Breaker II

After fleeing Gronder, Bernadetta and Leonie were said to be spotted on the run for many, many years, though no official documents or records state this. Folk songs and rumours suggest that they became some sort of heroes to everyday folk, and The Ballad of the Bear and the Hornet, can be found in many children’s books.

Reports exist that an older woman with a fair amount of battle scars could be spotted inside taverns and pubs with many a great story to tell. These fun nights would follow promptly with a woman who only referred to herself as Bear, coming in to pay her wife’s tab and give her apologies.

Bonus CF Ending: Upon inheriting House Varley, Bernadetta completed her duties in solitude. When Leonie was called to dispatch some bandits, she and Bernadetta reunited and ended up staying together. Leonie became captain of her personal guard and Bernadetta ascended to become a wise, caring and authoritative leader with Leonie’s help. It was rumoured that in the early days of their relationship, Leonie would sit in and warn visiting dignitaries and politicians to mind their manners when Bernadetta was speaking with a weapon at hand; in respect to this, Bernadetta gave her a golden dagger, engraved with the name Sunflower.

#ru writes #3h #fanfiction #I got super fucked up today about bern and leonie and this just came out #Leobern #I can’t be the only one who thinks they’Re neat ok #leonie pinelli #bernadetta von varley #These poor girls are super fucked up and i want them to be ok #Tw abuse #i get the vibe that Leonie’s dad is pretty absent hence the attachment to Jeralt #And we know Gregoire is gonna get the folding chair if Leonie ever sees him #I usually hc bern as a beautiful bi lady but in this she spends 18 years of her life wondering why every man she meets she thinks is mid #EXCEPTING RAPHAEL KIRSTEN #But the second leonie kisses her she’s like “OH. OHHHHHH OK OK I GET IT NOW!!!” As if she didn’t see Petra and Edie and Dorothea and didn’t #Think: wow these girls are so pretty i mean beautiful i mean hot i mean—#year of the otp

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petra-macweary · 2 years

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hello i will be pushing my enby petra/transmasc ingrid/transfem dorothea agenda today

#look i can’t help being like this i just love them #and when i love characters i hc them as trans. it cannot be helped #petra macneary #dorothea arnault #ingrid brandl galatea

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madefate · 1 year

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dorothea!!! / @furys-burn

based on pure vibes and supports and my non guilty pleasure favorite tropes, my top dorothea ships are sylvain, ferdinand, and petra !! they're GOOD. ferdinand has that eager golden retriever energy and the melodrama of their miscommunication as children - it's extremely tasty. with sylvain, there's this vibe of like, besties who are a little frenemies but also understand each other fundamentally and are basically already an old married couple who age like fine wine and boy does she top the hell out of him. and obviously we have dorothea / petra, wlw who are better than you - queen and lover, fighter and feminine, divine.

honestly though i'm so open to feeling out the vibes with other characters; dorothea is fascinating and she has the potential to challenge a lot of people's worldviews which is my favorite basis for shipping!

accepting !

#( answered. )#( dorothea hc. )#furysburn

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fairypaw · 4 months

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Poly plastic critters be upon ye' 🏳️‍🌈👭👭💥

me babbling about them under the cut as always

i recently got these lps together and theyre my darling starshines. i kinda wanna make them into long running ocs make lore for them and all that,, so here are some info and hcs and lore for the girls <33

Dorothea Flores || (cocker spaniel)

• she/her (afab)

• nicknames: dory, dorothy

• met Tommy first during early highschool, they were acquaintances and were on friendly terms through classes/projects but nothing came of it due to Dory's issues and Tom moving shortly. Rekindled again much later when she was on the job to find a heavily concussed Tommy

• Met Nia in pre med, Nia was the one who really helped her sort out all her issues and how they came to date was Dory on the bathroom floor post breakdown and went "lol that was embarrassing. wanna grab coffee later its a date"

• your local recovered mean girl grew up an angry child under her parents roof, its okay she figured it out,, eventually,,, in therapy

• currently an EMT, though shes undergoing training to become a paramedic.

• loves cooking!! she sings when she cooks and her girls will butt in off key fondly

Niamh Buckley || (deer)

• they/them (transfem amab)

• nicknames: nia

• homeschooled for most of their life, conservative parents who kept them in a short leash. ran away when they were 18 and lived with Tommy and her brother before going to collage where they met Dory.

• currently in med school to be a pediatric psychologist, but teaches elementary ballet part time

• kids love them like they're some sort of children whisperer, they hope to foster kids one day, something something breaking generational trauma

• loves gardening, grows their own veggies and herbs, hoping to grow a flower garden once they're a homeowner and not a heavily in debt student

Hamamoto Tomeiko || (cat)

• she/her

• nicknames: tommy, tom, miko

• was raised only by her older half brother growing up, her parents were unfit to raise a child and her freshly 18 brother adopted her, started calling him dad down the line.

• had a crush on Dorothy since high school, but it was pretty one sided since they were only in the same school for 2 years, because her dad's job made them move around a lot

• can pick up conversational languages pretty quickly because of this, also knows two different sign languages

• Met Nia because her dad came home with a homeless runaway kid and he took them in immediately knowing exactly what it felt like, they bonded while living together and decided to be roomates again in collage. feelings ensue

• wikipedia lite, will tell you about the article they read about whatever niche topic whenever they get an excuse to (theyr a little acoustic)

• studying in aerospace engineering, girl never let go of her hyperfixation of rockers since she was 7 and it shows

them . btw.

#littlest pet shop #lps #lpsblr #my art #littlest pet shop art #lps art #LETS GO LESBIANS LETS GOO !!!!!#accidentally made all of them have parental issues oops its okay its a canon event #well except for tommy kinda #i put WAYYY too much thought in this . maybe maybe ill expand on this univ

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sanest-bsd-delegate · 1 year

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Just a bunch of stray kids

Headcanon: You are a caretaker at an orphanage as you see how your boyfriend act around kids ft Dazai, Akutagawa ,Ranpo Masterlist Please look at the request rules in masterlist before requesting.

Dazai:

Ma'am you are a female Odasaku to him.

I mean you are a caretaker, at what cost? The orphanage.

The orphan kids just to much remind him of his time with Odasaku and the other orphans.

Being famous for the laughing personality he holds, In no time will the orphans hesitate to cling at this tall lean figure.

Having a class? Dazai will be bargaining the classroom and disrupting the class.

A kid is crying? No problem! Dazai will make sure the kid is on his shoulders being the tallest.

Just don't have this man near the storytime period. He will make sure to read that book.

What about the teens you say? Well he might have showed them The promise Neverland anime.

I leave the rest of Dazai HC to you. We all know it where it ends

Akutagawa:

As much you convinced him to like you back, He hates orphans.

You are the polar opposite couples. you will take the kid and your boyfriend take their parents. (UMM BUSINESS?)

He talks time to open up a little, considering he would barely visit your workplace.

But He will make sure that the attacks and fights are never near the orphanage. (he is a babygirl fr)

He seemed to attract some kids at the orphanage who usually referred him as big brother. (Honestly its just wholesome, might as well make a oneshot on it later)

Now he wouldn't be the one to interact much but he may burst in pure jealously once in a while whenever the kids steal your attention.

"They are just a bunch of stray kids" He would say, but we all know deep inside he likes them.

Ranpo:

Is Ranpo talking care of kids or are the kids taking care of Ranpo? No one knows.

You would be face-palming as the kids seemed to beat Ranpo up because he stole their candies for dinner.

I feel like Ranpo's coat and hat will be stolen every time he visits the orphanage, as kids would run and strike pose showing off their non existing abilities.

Ranpo is the mom of the orphanage. Lost your slippers? He found it under the pillow. Lost your Head band? He finds it inside the cupboard.

He is legit the favorite adult out of all the ADA members.

Am sorry but the kids love him more then they love you. Its always Ranpo name which seemed to be chanting during meals as if he had started a new religion.

"Dorothea, did you finish your homework?" ".....Ranpo"

LIKE????? You had to ban your own boyfriend after that at your workplace.

Laughing at this cus my humor is broken. Requests are half way done dw bbgs/bbbs i havent forgotten about y'all

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gunpowderdtim · 1 month

Note

could i possibly please hear your marius backstory hc? no pressure ofc

boy am i glad you asked.

Byron, as per "canon", grew up on a planet with poor nutrition, poor everything really, with his sister, Dorothea, and his parent. (menntioned by kofi once)

Dorothea and Byron spent their time, when not experiencing the horrors, poking around ruins, trying not to die, and to scavenge what they can from the relics left behind by the long-crumbled ancient society of some sort.

(Very memory of water, if any of you have read that book)

One day, Byron and Dorothea stumble across an entrance to some sort of old science facility, or warehouse, or perhaps hangar is the best word.

And together, they discover Kismet, Fate, (or, more pertinently within my mechs canon, fate in the matter that a story has its written ending.) - and Byron begins piloting it.

A sword in a stone, one might say.

Arthur.

When Arthur got his railgun, that started his destiny.

Byron did not have a military grade gun.

Byron had Kismet.

Now what is Kismet?

A gundam, a mecha, a giant fucking humanoid robot vehicle that Byron then pilots to do plot things.

What sort of plot things? Exactly what doesn't particularly matter, only that Byron did not stop.

He just kept on fucking going. Until he couldn't. That sounds sort of familiar, huh?

Like Hercules.

[Zeus's] favourite trick is to offer [his bastard children] a place in the family, contingent on the completion of a suicide mission or two. Most barely last a week, but Heracles? Heracles is too mean, too tough, and too stupid to stop. So he just keeps going.

Now, Kismet eventually will crash, with Byron inside, but thats to discuss later, for now, lets ask another question:

How does Kismet operate?

To me, Kismet is made of a very familiar metal - the sort, that we may know, "hums like a far off chant"

(the sort of metal i think all Mechanisms are made of, a far off chant, you say? like a song?)

And how, i may offer, do machines of metal like that operate?

His name is Kvasir, a low level member of the Midgardian resistance, but that doesn't matter. What matters is the dozen tubes and feed lines plugged into his veins, pumping blood through the arcane glyphs and blood channels and gears and sigils that line the chamber. The metal is the same as that which makes the track, and it hums like a far off chant.

Blood. Blood that runs through channels, the life force of the user, hoooking them into the heart of the machine to feed it, to regulate it.

(We know the mechanisms are likely powered off void. They shimmer rainbow when damaged.)

Byron is Kismet's pilot, and, i would imagine, there has to me a mechanism of sort to pilot it, pilot fate, to me, i envision a cuff around his arm, with veins of metal snaking up his veins, sapping his blood, drop by drop, to power the machine.

Byron is the heart, in the center of machine, who needs hearts blood when you act as it? He controls Kismet with a cuff around his arm He is its pilot.

He steers fate.

Thor begins pulling levers and throwing switches seemingly at random, causing the glyphs and channels to move and warp their constellations.

Byron, most likely, pulls the wrong lever.

Kismet crashes.

And Byron becomes it.

Or it becomes Marius.

The cuff stops being around his arm, starts being his arm, fusing into his body, his bones, becoming it, becoming him, and Byron becomes something else altogether.

Byron Von Raum once piloted Kismet.

Kismet is now piloting Marius.

What is the relationship between parasite and host? What is the relationship between pilot and ship? What is the relationship between Mechanism, and the body a mechanism 'enhances'?

What is the relationship between a story, and its ending?

#marius von raum #the mechanisms #the mechs #asks #the amount of narratomancy i can shove into this guy is INSANEEEEE

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glowingbadger · 1 year

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Fire Emblem Three Houses Poly & Multi-Character Masterlist

Poly:

Reader wants both - Yuri, Dimitri

sylvain, felix, dimitri x reader

Claude, Yuri, Sylvain x reader

Claude, Dimitri x Reader

College AU Claude, Dimitri x Reader

Felix, Sylvain x Reader

Sylvain, Felix Threesome

Threesome - Lorenz, Ignatz

Multi:

Misc spicy hcs - Linhardt, Felix, Lorenz, Seteth, Jeritza

Misc spicy hcs - Sylvain, Hubert, Yuri

Nsfw alphabet prompts - E I K M W - Hubert, Sylvain

Nsfw alphabet prompts - F J Q V - Dimitri, Sylvain

Competing over reader - Yuri, Dimitri

Misc spicy hcs - Ashe, Felix, Yuri

W/ asexual reader - Dimitri, Ashe, Sylvain, Felix, Yuri, Claude

Reader’s first time - Sylvain, Ashe, Dimitri

Reader’s first time - Felix, Claude, Yuri

Sfw and Nsfw headcanons - Ashe, Ferdinand

Sfw and Nsfw headcanons - Hilda, Marianne, Dorothea

Nsfw alphabet prompts - A I D P W - Ashe, Ferdinand

Sub! spicy headcanons - Ashe, Ignatz

Sfw & nsfw headcanons - Raphael, Hubert

Sfw & nsfw headcanons - Caspar, Linhardt

Dealing with a Brat!Reader - Dimitri, Seteth

Reader hiccups during sex - Dimitri, Syllvain, Felix

Learning Reader’s body - Linhardt, Felix

Where they like to be kissed - Hubert, Seteth, Sylvain, Yuri

Straightforward Reader - Felix, Sylvain

Favorite part of AFAB S/O’s body - most guys

Breeding kink hc's - most guys

What they love to see you wearing - most guys

Multi, Modern AU:

Modern college AU - blue lions boys - SFW

Modern college AU - ashen wolves (all 4) - SFW

Modern AU w/ insecure Reader - Claude, Dimitri, Ashe, Felix, Sylvain - SFW

escape room w/Reader - Blue lion boys - SFW

Modern AU, sfw & nsfw - Yuri, Felix

Modern AU, sfw & nsfw - Sylvain, Hilda, Ashe

Modern AU, sfw & nsfw - Marianne, Dimitri, Claude

Modern AU ‘soft’ HCs - Yuri, Dimitri, Sylvain, Felix, Ashe - SFW

Modern AU w/ insecure Reader - Marianne, Ferdinand, Lorenz, Hilda - SFW

Taking care of sick Reader - Dimitri, Felix, Sylvain, Dedue, Ashe - SFW

Multi, SFW:

Fluff hcs - Sylvain, Dimitri

First “I love you” - Dimitri, Claude, Ashe, Sylvain, Yuri, Felix

With short!Reader hcs - Dimitri, Sylvain, Ashe, Claude, Felix

Reader forced to fight him - Seteth, Hubert, Felix

Vices - most FE3H dudes, tw for alcohol and smoking

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #few3h #fe3h #fire emblem three hopes #not sfw #fire emblem smut #masterlist #smut blog #blog update #blog maintenance

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margalitarry · 2 years

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updated as of september 13th, 2022

requests are CLOSED

check out my wattpad!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

harry styles

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

meet me in the hallway

bloody faced

your met gala

almost together

she

tis the damn season

cruel summer

happily

colby brock

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the aftermath

dorothea

tomorrow never came

this love

stranger things

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dating steve harrington hc

the chateau

harry potter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

coming soon <3

marvel

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

coming soon <3

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spaceagebachelormann · 1 year

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dex dizznee headcanons

★ mars thoughts — alternate title is dex (marlees version) <3

★ warnings — theres like. a mention of the maze runner so spoilers for the death cure (book/movie 3)!!

★ m. list || kotlc m.list || navigation

okay so

he is actually the funniest and most sarcastic person ever

he can’t go five minutes without making fun of something or someone (affectionately) or saying something that makes the whole room burst out laughing

HE IS DATING KEEFE!! KEEFEX IS REAL

actually no scratch that he’s simultaneously dating both jensi and keefe it’s polyamory <3

also btw he has a super great music taste (the banner for these hcs <3)

like mainly he listens to old songs sophie showed him, mainly sad ones

his favourite artists are frank sinatra, brenda lee, nat king cole, elvis presley, elton john, ABBA, david bowie, joan jett, TLC, october country, madonna, weezer….

but he also likes some newer artists!! like taylor swift, lana del rey, clairo, mac demarco and stuff like that :))

he shamelessly lovingly bullies people for this music tastes, telling them “your homework is to listen to some real music. get inspired.” (THE BANNER) and hands them a list of artists he listens to that he basically just carries around for the purpose of that

btw he’s the kotlc equivalent of irish. i dare you to tell me otherwise.

he gets it from keslers side of the family, and he owns a kilt but will never ever EVER wear it because according to him “it’s a disgrace to humanity”

his accent always makes people laugh, like because all of his friends have either no accent or different accents it doesn’t really come out with them, but sometimes it’ll poke through and people will laugh

or they’ll ask him to read some insane sentence in his accent and he’ll do it because he loves it when people laugh cause he did/said something funny

also this guy is PETTY and JEALOUS and has slight ANGER ISSUES that he picked up from fitz

real quick: separate hc that dex picks up stuff from his friends without realizing it

he once went and rewrote a whole essay just to prove a point to fitz

and he once filled keefes shoes with rice because he talked to sophie for 6 minutes and dex for 3

and he once got pissed than his shoes were muddier than usual

i love flawed dex

k moving on

remember when i said he’s always making fun of people affectionately?? yeah i have more to add about that

like he’s still very funny and known for his loving bullying, but he knows exactly what and what not to say and when or when not to say it

he genuinely cares about the people around him, and when they need to. uh. idk talk to someone?? he’s there and knows exactly what to say and waits for an opportunity to say something mean, but in a way that it’s clearly a joke and will cheer the person up a bit

now, if he made the person upset, he immediately feels terrible and tries to make it right cause he’s able to admit when he made a mistake

if someone else made that person upset, they better pray he never finds their ass because they will be in tears by the time he’s done making fun of them

he’s rlly good at pinpointing who likes who, who doesn’t like who, and can also easily tell who likes him and he considers this his superpower

one time he gripped biana on the shoulders and said “biana. you like sophie.” and then did the same to sophie later

also this mf is BLIND. he refuses to wear glasses because he doesn’t like the way he looks with them

but he wears contacts

and he will never tell anyone this.

he can’t cook for shit, but he CAN bake!! because it has fractions and he’s good at math

he kinda just makes cupcakes and brownies because their keefes and jensi’s favourites

he has been known to blast the mamma mia soundtrack and/or evermore at 2am

his favourites are dorothea and SOS

oh btw i know if said the dizznees have hooked noses before, and i stand by it.

doesn’t matter what you say, the dizznees with the exclusion of kesler and inclusion of edaline, have hooked noses

and he is not! insecure about it! he likes his nose because according to him, he can, “smell everyone’s bullshit from a mile away”

he doesn’t read a lot, but when he does it’s hard to get him to stop

most of them are human books sophie has on her bedside table

he likes murder mysteries and dystopian novels <33

specifically the maze runner and a good girls guide to murder

he sent sophie a 8 page long double sided paragraph about how angry he was when (MAZE RUNNER SPOILERS) newt died

and another one that was even longer about how much he loves ravi singh

his room is almost always messy

he doesnt have the patience (or enough ability to care enough) to clean it

tbh dex seems like one of them mfs who kisses peoples cheeks as a greeting/goodbye.

like he’ll lean in and just mwah <3 and then he says bye/hi like it’s nothing

he’s very big on platonic kisses

ALSO HES SUPER CLOSE WITH HIS MOM

can be classified as a mommas boy

if dex knows something, juline knows it too and cue the judgemental stares

oh btw he’s either 5’5 at the tallest or 5’9 at the shortest

all the dizzneses are just rlly fuckin tall. not including kesler. tall juline is love tall juline is life.

in my head, and because shannon canonically said at one point that dex was tall, and he’s tall in the official art, he’s a little shorter than fitz

but like only by a little

fitz is 5’11 and 1 cm

dex is 5’10 and 3 cms

yes fitz holds a ruler over his head when they argue

he also adores flowers

sometimes he’ll grab one of his siblings or parents or maybe even one of his friends and they just go on a walk somewhere he can collect a shit ton of flowers

he makes bouquets for his friends and says something mean as he hands it to them

idc what you say he has curly hair he gets from kesler

one time he fucked up while he was messing with something and it had purple streaks for a week

he actually didn’t look that bad but he never lets anyone bring that week up

i always pictured him with light blue eyes but. listen imagine him with dark eyes

when he gets excited you can see them light up and become all sparkly and glittery

that works for both light and dark eyes but shhhh

a huge lover of the 60s-70s era

mainly the early 70s

oh and he sleeps with 8 million stuffed animals thanks for coming to my ted talk

taglist: @literaturewithliz / @presidentroarie

#dex (marlees version) 🌷#kotlc!! 🦢👁#keeper of the lost cities #kotlc headcanons #keeper of the lost cities headcanons #keefex #dex dizznee #dex dizznee headcanons #rizznees (marlees version) 🤍#dizznees

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juneberrie · 1 year

Text

CLOSED ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ omg you guys tysm for six hundred of yall <3 i really appreciate it and honestly the fact that all of yall like my writing (and the insanity that comes with it) makes me so happy ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

all fandoms/characters are open for this event, but i do have the right to delete/not write your request.

make sure to specify fandoms and if you want fem!reader or gn!reader!!

the tag for this event is going to be “juneberrie’s 600 celly <3”

the event will be open from april 13th - april 17th

masterlist. navigation. rules.

🌷 all of the girls — headcanons -> send me this along with a character and a scenario/prompt and ill give you some hcs!

💌 love language — ships -> send me a description of urself (can be as short or long as u want), a fandom, and a gender pref and ill ship you with a character!

🎀 nymphology — blurbs -> send me a character and a prompt and i’ll write you a lil baby blurb x

prompts — 🤍 🦩 🍨

🦢 dorothea — mutuals only -> send me this and i’ll assign you one of my comfort characters and one of my pinterest boards <3

🎟️ girl next door — albums -> send me a character and i’ll tell you what fave album of mine they fit and the song that reminds me the most of them

🕊️ safe & sound — games -> cym, kmk, wyr, etc!!

tagging some gorgeous gorgeous moots -> @spaceagebachelormann @likefolksong @ell0ra-br3kk3r @spideypnk @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @faeriieblush @masivechaos @meredarling @starstruckwillows @starlit-epiphany @starconfettii

#juneberrie’s 600 celly <3

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rosethorn-248 · 1 year

Text

✦ :: A few FE3H characters and their scents

@supershiny-raven and I decided to come up with some ideas on how a handful of characters would potentially smell/wear as perfume or cologne.

These are only fun little thoughts we made. Whether you disagree or agree is up to you. If you want to share more, feel free reblog.

———

✧ :: Sylvain Jose Gautier

I feel like he’d definitely have a musky yet lavishing aroma. Like it’s masculine but very inviting, at the same time. In my head, I figured something such as orange blossoms and cedarwood (with maybe a hint of coconut) I like to hc that he’s got fluffy and loose locks, so most products would be coconut scented (modern-wise, at least) He’s obviously an erotic/flirtatious character. The more bitter/citrus part of his scent would complement that, and the sweeter bits would feel like a trance almost. It fits his character well, I think. He pleasantly draws people in with a lovingly, overwhelming aroma.

✧ :: Felix Hugo Fraldarius

I was a bit stuck on this because of the fact that he’d mostly smell like the training grounds, whetstones, or even weaponry; however, aside from those aspects, he might give off a spicy aroma. There’s probably a nature/airy base or something, but for the most part, he’d smell like a rosy bonfire. Like scandalwood, birchwood, amber, and moss. Perhaps cedarwood like Sylvain. I’d probably say scandalwood and birchwood though. Felix just feels like he’d have a bitter/spicy scent. Something that immediately grabs your attention, but not in an odd way. Its simply striking and sharp smelling. Exactly how he likes to keep his blades, along with his outer attitude too.

✧ :: Claude Von Riegan

I’m not sure why, but he was pretty hard to think of a scent for. I figured he’d smell spicy yet musky/mossy. Not legitimately spicy like Felix, but something with a kick to it, at least. My guess for this was apple spice, bergamot, and amber. I was also trying to take into consideration Almyra for his scent, but apple spice seemed to match the particular spiciness I was looking for. I wouldn’t doubt that there’s definitely a better substitute for him; however, I think this combination fits well. Its complex just like him.

✧ :: Byleth Eisner (Female)

Ray came up with this scent for Byleth. They felt like something clean/fresh yet sweet (such as fruity/floral) would fit her best. Perhaps a zen garden with a bit of a berry aroma (and even peonies) She seems like she’d smell like the monastery, honestly. Like her dorm is basically how she smells 24/7. With all of her students always gifting her lovely flowers, it makes complete sense for Byleth to give off a floral freshness or berry bliss.

✧ :: Edelgard Von Hresvelg

This was another one that was a tad difficult because of her pairings. I immediately wanted to give her a perfume that she might wear while out with a girlfriend or partner, in general, but I mostly considered her, for the most part. Because of that, I feel like she’d have a citrus scent with a bubbly sweetness to it. I was thinking something with lemon and lavender (maybe a few berries) Edelgard seems like she’d have a crisp yet bitter citrus smell to her, blended together with a floral/berry sweetness. She’s fierce yet cute all in one.

✧ :: Ferdinand Von Aegir

Okay, listen, here me out…but Ferdinand is definitely someone who’s ordering a pumpkin spice latte during the fall. I’m not sure what else to say aside from that about him because he’d absolutely smell like pumpkin spice with a nice bergamot and cedarwood accent. He’d have a sweet spicy smell to him. Like a peaceful tea time or something. He’d just smell very noblest/elegant. Because he’s Ferdinand Von Aegir, of course.

✧ :: Dorothea Arnault

I made her scent similar to Sylvain’s with the whole flirty/lovely aromas, but unlike Sylvain, Dorothea doesn’t need to entice people with her beauty. The people come to her initially. Like a love spell or entrancement. She’d smell downright luxurious and sweet (with floral hints for sure) Dorothea gives off blossoms and orchids aromas. She smells like an entire bouquet, basically, and everyone is just drawn to the flowery scent. She is the pique definition of beauty.

✧ :: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd

Ray made this one too. They were mostly thinking of his post-war designs/life as the King of Faerghus. It was concluded that Dimitri would probably smell more mature perhaps. Similar to Byleth, he’d just smell like his palace mostly, which seems welcoming yet classy. Like warm leather, vanilla, and blackberry. I can picture him wearing colors such as the ones in his post-timeskip designs with a pleasant warm aroma. It’s refreshing into a new beginning for Faerghus.

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thot-writes · 2 years

Note

Hi, is it alright by you if I ask for (n)sfw hc's of Dorothea and a shy male/AMAB s/o?

dorothea my beloved….. yes u absolutely can!!! i had a lot of fun with this (submissive amab sluts deserve the world!!!)

big mommy dorothea and shy little boy toy reader (NSFW 18+);

Dorothea comes off as such a mommy dom to me she would absolutely adore a shy s/o

on a wholesome scale, she would fawn and fuss over you even when you insist she doesn’t need to (inwardly though, how could you complain? she’s everything you want and more, the idea that she even likes you back is difficult to believe!)

she’d bring you flowers, take you out to eat, play with your hair, compliment you until you’re just about ready to melt into a puddle, and serenade you with her angelic voice whenever the opportunity arose (and she’s good at making opportunities.)

you want a loving, doting girlfriend to look after your every want? you want someone so good they leave you questioning what benevolent god decided to bless you? that’s dorothea

if you also want someone to treat you like the closet slut you are— that’s dorothea too.

you thought she couldn’t possibly make you blush any harder than when she flatters you endlessly. but what she does to you in bed blows that out of the water.

she’s a tease. a huge tease. she’ll worship you in one breath, then taunt you in the next.

“You like my breasts that much, you naughty boy?” she coos, gazing down at you as you suckle her soft, milk-white tits. she cradles you, running manicured nails through your hair as her left hand delicately trails the underside of your yearning cock. tears burn at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at the torment you’re receiving. she’s touching you, sure, and you have her tits in your mouth, that’s true— but you’re silently begging her to just take you.

she knows it, too. it’s why she’s got that look in her eyes and that smug smile on her lips. your cock pathetically dribbles pre-cum on her fingers, she knows all it would take is a couple pumps of her hand and you’d be squirting all over her, but she denies you all the same.

your lick slowly at her nipple, unable to keep eye contact with her for longer than a second. she hums and caresses your cheek. “So cute. You’re being so polite even though you’re reaching your limit. Do you want me to take you?”

the tears start flowing. you’re so desperate for her it’s painful. you timidly nod your head— it’s all you can manage.

she shuffles so you’re not sucking on her anymore, and you miss her warmth. she leans over and kisses you passionately, a yelp rising from you as she does.

she sticks her tongue in your mouth, and you obediently open your lips wider for her. you moan as she toys with your tongue, licks at your lips, and savour her vaguely sweet taste. your arms wrap around her neck and she repositions herself to be completely on top of you.

her pussy bumps up against your erection and you almost cum right then.

she pulls away from the kiss and giggles at your whine. her hands cup your tear-slicked cheeks and she gazes down at you fondly.

“Tell me, my love,” she starts, smiling innocently. “How do you want me to fuck you? Shall I ride you, or do you want to be filled?”

your breath catches. either sounds heavenly, but you find your eyes flickering to her pussy. the thought of her warm walls squeezing tight around you and her hands lingering dangerously on your throat as you cry out seems too tempting to pass up.

she tilts her head, waiting for your answer. you manage — miraculously — to speak, “I-I want your pussy, p-please… Dorothea..”

you notice a glimmer in her eyes. you swallow in anticipation as she hovers over you — but instead of feeling the sweet sensation of her cunt, she simply leaves.

you snap up from your lying position on the couch, scared you’d done something to displease your mistress, but she gestures for you to lie down again and you comply. tension grips your body until she comes back wearing her strap-on.

she grins at you as she approaches, trickling a bottle of lubricant all over the toy attached at her hips.

you open your mouth to ask what she’s doing, but she interrupts, “Are you disappointed, pet? Should I not fuck you at all?”

“I-it’s just—“

she positions herself between your legs, letting the lube drip over your cock and along your upper thighs. “Don’t worry,” she laughs. “I’ll make sure everyone can hear your cute voice, my love.”

her careful prepping of your waiting hole is juxtaposed by her rough and relentless thrusting. the air is ripped from your lungs and your arms flail for purchase on the armrest behind your head.

her fat tits bounce with each thrust of her hips, her nails dig into your skin but you’re unable to care.

the room is filled with the noises of wet slapping, wood creaking, and your own unrestrained moans of pleasure. you cum quickly, but she’s unwilling to let you off with just that.

your whole body feels like it’s on fire, your swollen and sensitive prostate enduring a merciless onslaught from dorothea.

one of your hands flies to your nipple and you tug on it roughly. your shyness has been replaced with a burning lust. “F-fuck— yes, Dorothea! Fill me up! Fuck me harder, I n-need you deeper!”

“Ah? Then I’ll make sure to leave you satisfied, [Name]!”

you can feel yourself squeezing around the girthy dick she’s fucking into you, and your eyes roll back.

your shameless cries echo out into the night— much to the chagrin of your neighbours— and dorothea doesn’t stop until you’re completely spent and spends the rest of the night cuddling and caring for you. you fall asleep in her arms the same way you have a hundred times before, thanking your lucky stars that you’ve found a soulmate in Dorothea.

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