#dimitri doesn’t actually wear his but carries it with him at all times | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 23

--------

2000

We were ten years old, Derek and I. Playing a game of hide and seek with his sister Laura. It felt like it was more a game of “let the kids run around and not bother me”. We were deep in the woods outside of their home, laughing and squealing delight as we ran and ran. That is until lightning flashed through the sky and thunder boomed immediately after. Spooked, we ran further from the thunder and lightning, finding a small improvised shelter that we had made a few years before when we would play cops and robbers. Derek’s uncle Peter had helped us build it, occasionally playing the sheriff when he deemed us “less annoying than usual”.

Once inside the little hut, we sat and decided to wait out the storm or at least until someone came to get us. It was mostly dry with only or two leaks in the roof. We waited a while in silence, only the rain and wind howling filled the air. It was almost peaceful. I had been sitting there, literally twiddling my thumbs when I noticed the anxious movements Derek was making. He was tapping his foot against the soft earth and he was repeatedly cracking his knuckles.

“What is it?” I asked. He seemed to snap out of his trance and looked at him, then looking away with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“I was just thinking about what my mom said last year... About us being arranged in a marriage.”

“What about it?” I turned my body so that I could face him.

Derek rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I dunno... I guess that I wouldn’t want to be forced into a marriage with you. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“You’re right.” I glanced out towards the woods, smiling fondly, “I want to fall in love. I want someone like Dimitri in Anastasia.” I sighed dreamily.

“Wasn’t he a con-artist?” Derek raised an eyebrow. I shoved him playfully.

“No...Well, yes. But he doesn’t take the money the Duchess offered him as a reward because he wants Anastasia to be happy.”

“He’s a cartoon.”

“And you’re a dork.” I shook my head, “What about you? Who would you wanna marry someday?”

Derek thought for a moment, “I guess... I would want someone like Anastasia. She’s super badass and defeats the villain all by herself. She also went through a lot and did a lot even when she didn’t remember who she was, she fought for her future.”

As sweet as that was...

“She’s a cartoon.” I mocked his voice. He grinned and shoved me, starting a wrestling match that ended with Talia and Peter finding us. They brought us home and made us hot chocolate.

After landing, Michael and I had taken a ferry to the Shetland islands to Sumburgh, the village on the island where the Lunar Circle was settled. We actually were brought to a castle, which was already insane enough. The next insane thing was a statue just inside the massive doors into the main room of the castle. It was a humanoid with the head of a wolf, wearing a kilt and armor. The creature also carried a sword.

“What is that?” I whispered to Michael.

“The Wulver. A werewolf that had come to peace with his wolf and human sides. He was friendly to locals and they seemed fine with him. That’s when hunters came and tried to kill him. He was the reason for founding the Lunar Circle - coexistence.

“Can I do that?” I whispered under my breath.

“Unfortunately, no.” Our attention was brought to a man with a thick Scottish accent walking into the room, “Our world has lost touch with the old magic. But maybe someday we can bring it back.” He was average height, with salt and pepper hair that was on the longer side and a bit shaggy. His eyes were a kind blue color. He held out his hand to me.

“Praetor Lachlan McLeod.” The stranger introduced himself, “It’s so good to finally meet you, (Y/N).” So this was the man who wrote the letter, it was nice to have a face to a name. I shook his hand and smiled politely.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Praetor.” From my googling, Praetor was a Roman term for an official, which was an interesting concept since Rome had completely invaded all of England, Ireland, and Scotland and almost wiped out their culture. But whatever.

“Please, call me Lachlan.”

I nodded, “Okay, Lachlan.” He held both of my hands in his smiling sympathetically.

“I want to extend my condolences, again, for your loss. Your mother and father did so much for the Lunar Circle.”

Slowly, I slipped my hands from his, “Thank you... I just have a lot of questions about them.”

“All in due time, my dear. You’ve had a long flight and I’m sure that you’re exhausted.”

Michael sighed, “Oh, we sure are-”

“I’m not tired. I want answers.” I said sternly. Michael looked incredibly nervous which made me wonder how high up this Lachlan guy was, “I appreciate your concern, sir, but I am coming from a place where I am just now remembering my parents were a part of a secret werewolf society that gave them the tools to take all of my memories away and said society wouldn’t allow me to be accompanied by my partner. It took a lot for him to let me come by myself, especially since he had never trusted the Lunar Circle in the first place.”

“Ah, yes, Derek Hale.” He said, almost amused, “I remember his mother’s rejection letter. It was somehow very personal. I think she referred to me as ‘a spineless coward who would rather fraternize with the enemy than fight them.”

I clicked my tongue, “Sounds like Talia.” Michael nudged my side, signally for me to chill.

“And another thing-”

“Oh no.” Michael hid his face in his hands.

“This guy.” I pointed to Michael, “He killed my parents, isn’t there some kind of punishment for that?”

Michael ripped his hands from his face, “Hey, that wasn’t my fault.”

“Mr. Keaton’s unfortunate affliction caused by Peter Hale has been reviewed.” Lachlan put his arms behind his back, “I assure you. It was all the Hale’s doing.”

I jerked forward, Michael had to grab my arms to hold me back, “Derek is not his uncle.” My eyes flashing red.

Lachlan raised his eyebrows and smiled, leaning down and flashing his alpha red eyes at me in return, “I’m sure he’s not.” The red left his eyes and he stood up straight, “Take her to the infirmary and then straight to bed.” He said to Michael, his eyes never leaving mine. I kept my eyes on him, even as he started to walk away, this kilt swaying with each step.

“The infirmary? Why?” Michael asked.

“I believe Miss (Y/L/N) is carrying something.” He grinned, “Something that may calm her temper.”

After a blood test in the infirmary, we were escorted to two rooms in the castle. Of course, this left me alone with my thoughts that I really didn’t want to think about. Knowing that Derek and everyone else was back home fighting against the alpha pack while I was in this ancient castle where I haven’t gotten the answers I wanted. Why was I even here? To take up my parents’ mantle? Whatever it was, I didn’t want it. I just wanted to go back home and help. I looked out the window of the castle, seeing the moon high in the sky.

I mean, what could they tell that I didn’t already know? My parents took my memories to keep me safe and look where it got them? Burned to ashes. And what else? I was only stalked by a psychopath and had to watch my friend struggle to not hurt anyone. I mean, hell, I was still struggling with the change. Uncle Noah was still processing what I was. Yes, he’s supportive but to what end? And Stiles? I wasn’t there to protect him when he was kidnapped and beaten by the Argents and now I was millions of miles away and if he was in trouble there was nothing that I could do. And if anything happened to Derek and I wasn’t there to save him? What was the point of even being alive? I would be without them, helpless and guilty, all because of some stupid secret society.

My chest got tighter and tighter as my emotions ran high. My thoughts and feelings were moving so quickly that it felt like I didn’t have control of my own mind. My hands clenched tight, I could feel all of my features shift. Coarse hair growing down the sides of my face, the bridge of my nose tightening. I screamed loudly, the high pitch lowering into a loud roar.

“This is your fault!” She shouted, standing up, “Take me home!” She lunged forward. Michael lunged forward, using the shield to knock her back across the room and into the window. Surprisingly, it didn’t break. She fell to the ground, looking up quickly.

MICHAEL

From the loud roar that just came from the next to his, Michael had a feeling that the Sheriff had been right. She was a time bomb and she just exploded. Michael quickly grabbed a shield from one of the suits of armor that for some reason always decorated castles and made his way into (Y/N)’s room. (Y/N) was on the bed, tearing at pillows. There were feathers and fluff flying all over the room. She was in full shift, her eyes fiery red, her canines sharp. Her eyes took him in, snarling loudly. She jumped off the bed, landing in front of him on all fours. Michael jumped back, shield held tight in his hand.

“Come on, (Y/N)!” He tried to put on a brave face, “You just need to calm down and get some rest.”

“SCREW YOU!” She shouted, lunging again. This time, Michael moved on the way, letting her slam into the door, which also didn’t break.

“That’s a good door.” He said to himself. Michael looked from the door and back to the angry werewolf. She was seething with rage and one step closer to killing him.

“Think about this. You don’t want to kill me!”

“Yes, I do! I hate you!”

“Hate is such a strong word...” He said nervously. (Y/N) lunged again and was met by a door to the face. Lachlan had opened the door and they both looked down at (Y/N) on the floor. She was on her behind, rubbing her forehead. Lachlan sighed, reaching down to help (Y/N) up.

“I seem to have underestimated your anger. Please, walk with me.”

(Y/N)

Lachlan led me out of the castle and down to the grounds. In the back of the stone walls, there was a large garden. The Praetor hadn’t said anything since we had been out here, but I think that’s what he wanted. The moon and the atmosphere around us was calming, must be the magic here.

“I apologize for dismissing your concerns earlier.” Lachlan said finally, leading us to the cliff side where we could see the waves crashing against the rocks, “You have been through a lot lately. More than any new werewolf is expected to handle as well as you have.” When I looked at him, I could tell he was being genuine.

“I just...” I sighed, leaning against a nearby oak, “I didn’t want to come here. I didn’t want to leave my partner behind. And... I didn’t want to meet the people who told my parents to take my life from me.”

Lachlan looked up at the moon, the wind flowing through his hair, “Your concerns are near and dear to my heart. My own parents used the Wolf Eclipse spell on me after I mated with a she-wolf from a rival clan. The look in her eyes when I told her I didn’t know who she was... I see it every time I close my eyes. And then I lost her.” His voice shook a bit, “I never forgave them after that.” He looked back at me, “When your parents told us that they had done the spell after the Hale fire, we told them it was a bad idea. You needed to be stronger than ever, maybe even leave Beacon Hills, but they became too attached to the community, to the sheriff and his son.” They stayed for them... I have no idea what my life would have been like without Stiles in it. It was so different. That was a life I didn’t want to think about because it was a life without my best friend and his insane antics. It was a life without Uncle Noah who loved me no matter what. It would be a life without Derek, or at least a life where I wouldn’t be there to meet him again.

“I remember now that my father thought we were safe.” I wrapped my arms around myself, “Chris Argent is loyal to his word and the code his family is supposed to follow. Unfortunately, he is the only one who follows that code. Even his own daughter was corrupted by his father and his sister and she was dating a werewolf.”

“Unfortunately, not every hunter can be Chris Argent. From our understanding, he is the only one fighting with his head while the others see us as inhuman.” He chuckled, “You might even say that we are more human than they are.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek.

“Lachlan?”

“Hmm?”

“What am I doing here? Why bring me all this way?”

Lachlan looked back up at the moon and smiled, “Well, it was originally to restore your memories. Thankfully, that resolved itself. Now, since you are the only member left of your clan - an alpha was two sparks - we were hoping that you could spend some time with us to relearn the basics. And I also want you to relax, experience your culture, your legacy.”

“That sounds great and all. But I don’t have time to do that. I need to get back to Derek.”

“(Y/N), you know that it is too dangerous for the both of you to be there. I don’t want you to experience what it’s like to lose a mate. It’s... It’s soul crushing. Losing who you love most - that is the worst pain anyone can feel.” Lachlan turned to go back to the castle, “Think about it. You aren’t a prisoner here. You may leave whenever you like. But I think you could do great things with just a little help.” With that, his footsteps faded into the darkness; leaving me with only my thoughts, the moonlight, and the ocean below. I had to make a decision, one that would ultimately decide my future as an alpha. I just wish someone I knew was here to help me make this decision. If only Uncle Noah were here. He was so level headed and wanted the best for me, but the werewolf drama was probably too much for him already. And Derek would want me to hone in on my skills, even if that meant going into battles alone and possibly losing them.

I just wish it wasn’t this hard.

After pressing Derek’s contact, I pressed the phone to my ear and listened to it ring. I had no idea what time it was back home, I just needed to at least pretend I was talking to him.

“Hey Der.” I smiled, “I know it’s late or early. Honestly, I’m not sure. But I wanted to call you and tell you how today went. The flight was long, the food was okay. Uh they made me get a blood test for whatever reason. Oh, and there’s this thing called the Wulver and he was a werewolf that came to peace with his human and animal side. Lachlan’s really nice and doesn’t want to take me from you so the coast is clear on that one. And uh I remembered something today. When we were kids, we got lost in the woods in a storm and we talked about crushes. Funny how you had a crush on a girl who lost her memories.” I laughed, “Anyway... I miss you. And I love you. And I’ll be back as soon-”

I was cut off by a beep and a message telling me that the allotted time of this message was over. Sighing, I set my phone down and flopped back on the extravagant bed that seemed to form to my body in just the right way. All the fluff and feathers had been cleaned by the time I came back so I should probably thank whoever the cleaning staff were. All I can do is sleep and hope that tomorrow will give me better answers.

-------------------

Read part 24 here!

I watched Inside today so I am no feeling good.

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are appreciated!

Please message me or comment below to be added to the taglist!

YSM Tag:

@nyotamalfoy

@fruitloopzzz

@babygirl-angel-love

@aestheticeggs

@akuri-shinsou

@geli2297

@coruscaret

@oh-my-gosh-everything-is-taken

@bellabadacadabra

@parabatai-winchester

#derek hale fic #derek hale x reader #teen wolf fic #teen wolf x reader

30 notes · View notes

lokis-little-kitten · 3 years

Text

Teaching Assistant 13

When you wake up it is the next morning. You have been transferred to a recovery room. It is quite spacious and light. Your bag and other belongings laid on a table next to your bed. An IV was in your right arm connected to a bag of fluid.

You look down and notice your left shoulder is all bandaged up. You can see some angry bruises peek out from under it. The room was awfully quiet and you felt anxious. You wanted to know what was going on. You press the call button and wait for a nurse to come and take a look at you.

A young girl walks in with a large smile on her face when she sees you. She has short black hair and a radiant smile. She seems South Asian. She takes a look at the machines on your bedside as she starts to ask questions.

“Hello. I’m Maya. How are you feeling?” You try to shrug but because of your bandaged up shoulder you can’t.

“Okay, I think. I feel really tired…” The nurse nods and writes it down on the notepad she carries with her.

“That is completely normal. You are on some really strong pain meds. The doctor will come and take a look at you in a little bit. Is there anything I can do?” You look around the room and then lock in on your bag.

“My phone. Can you plug it in so I can charge it? There should be a charger on my bag.” Maya nods and checks your bag. She pulls out the cord and your phone. She plugs it in and lays the phone on your lap. You quickly thank her.

“Anything else?”

You think for a second before you remember. You’re surprised you can. You usually try to forget this. “I have an appointment with Doctor Eric Wilson here at 4… Can you let him know I had an accident?” She assures you that she will and then leaves again.

When she leaves you quickly turn on your phone. A few spam emails pop up on the screen and a few texts. One from Dimitri and a few from Loki. You first open the one from Dimitri but as you do he calls you. You pick up and put the phone on speaker.

“Hey, you missed the first lesson. Are you alright,” he asks in a worried tone. There is some buzzing behind him. He is clearly in between classes.

“I had an accident, last night. I’m in the hospital,” you croak out. Your throat is as dry as sandpaper.

“Seriously? I’ll come right away,” he tells you and you hear him starting to walk faster to call in sick.

“Thank you,” you reply. Dimitri tells you to sit tight and that he will be there shortly. You hang up and then check Loki’s texts.

Daddyi.

Did you get home safe?

Darling?

Answer me!

Where are you?

Why aren’t you in my class?

You are in so much trouble.

Please answer me. I’m worried. Did I do something wrong? Did something happen?

Answer me or I’m coming to your flat!

The last message was only sent a few minutes ago. Quickly you call Loki up as well but he doesn’t pick up. He would probably be teaching a class right now. You leave him a voice note explaining your situation and tell him not to worry.

After that your doctor did come in and check up on you for a moment. She explained what they did in the surgery and what was going to happen afterwards. You came out reasonably unscratched for a motorcycle accident. You had a broken collarbone, a bruised rib and a small head wound. They did want to do a brain scan to make sure there was no other damage done.

You would have to receive a lot of physical therapy for it to heal properly. You would also have to wear a sling the next few weeks. The doctor asked you once again if she could call someone for you. You told her Dimitri was on his way.

A few minutes later he indeed arrived. He looked rather pale when he walked in. It must have been a bit of a worrying sight. You were in a very oversized hospital gown and all alone in the rather empty and sterile room. He sat down on the bed with you and grabbed your hand.

“How are you, babe?” He looks at you with large puppy eyes.

“I’m alright. The painkillers do their job.” You give him a short smile and then take a deep breath. You tell him you still need a brain scan and that you need to wear a sling the next few weeks. Dimitri offers to get you some stuff from home, like your laptop, clothes and other things.

When he leaves you go for the brain scan, which is frightening. The room was dark and the machine was scary. You had to lay still as the machine was scanning you. You were very happy when you got out of it.

Once back in your room Loki still hasn't replied or even seen your messages. Dimitri returned with some of your stuff. You watch a bit of a movie until he is sent out as well. You take a short nap since the anesthetic made you drowsy.

Around four someone knocks on your door. When you look who it is you are surprised it is Eric. He is the psychiatrist treating you for your eating disorder and anxiety. He was absolutely wonderful. You are so lucky to have found him! He takes a chair and sits down next to your bed.

“Hey there,” he smiles as he takes off his official doctor's coat. “You didn’t think I would skip out on you only because of a little motorcycle accident.” He gives you a funny smirk that manages to make you laugh.

“Of course not. I think I’d have to actually pass away to skip an appointment.” Eric chuckles a bit and then opens his file.

“So, how are you in regards to the accident,” he asks in a serious tone. You think for a moment and want to sit up but your shoulder prevents you from doing so. You slumb back into the pillows before replying.

“This is gonna sound strange, but I’m alright. I don’t know if it’s just the shock but I sort of needed this…” As the words leave your mouth you feel crazy. The brain scan came back clear but maybe they missed something.

“You needed a near death experience,” the psychiatrist asks you as he changes his sitting position. There is a thin frown upon his forehead.

“Yes… in a way. I tried to stay here, to stay awake. I was actively finding ways to stay here and to help the doctors. A few months ago I would have let myself drift off but I didn’t. I wanted to live,” you explain.

It was true. A few months back when you were deep in your eating disorder and filled with anxiety you had at some point nearly died. You didn’t care whether you lived or died. You just wanted your suffering to be over. Now, after some of the hardest months of your life it changed. You wanted to live. You wanted to make the most of it. You wanted to study, to graduate and make something of yourself. It was a big difference and the accident reminded you of that.

“You should be proud of yourself,” Eric agreed, “that is a big change. Although, you should not need a near death experience every time to remind you of that.” The last bit he says as a joke but it’s tinted with seriousness.

When the session is slowly coming to an end your phone rings. The screen was still upwards and the words ‘DADDY’ appeared largely on the screen. Doctor Eric looks at the phone as you quickly click it away. You look up at his confused face and wait for him to say something.

“I thought you didn’t talk to your father anymore,” he asks with suspicion written all over his face. He knows very well you haven’t talked to him since you were ten.

“I’m not,” you reply and avert your eyes from him. Loki could not have called on a worse moment. You do not want to talk about your love/sex life with your psychiatrist. The fact that this is illegal doesn’t help.

“So you’re seeing someone. Why didn’t you tell me,” he asks in a serious tone before switching to dramatics. “I thought we told each other everything.” He makes some fake crying noises and slowly slides from his chair. You can’t help but chuckle at the ethics.

“It’s still pretty new. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I didn’t think it was important,” you say, hoping Eric will stop questioning. He struggles back onto his chair and gives you a serious look. As he does you have to hang up another call from Loki.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it with an old dude like me, but I do feel like we should talk about it. You have never had a good example of relationships and you are in treatment for an eating disorder, depression and anxiety. This could turn toxic if you’re not careful.” You just stare at your therapist for a second.

“Well thank you for listing all that,” you mutter as you slide down in your bed a little more. Eric gives you an unimpressed look. “But I guess you make a point. Next session,” you suggest as you look at the clock. Your hour is over. Eric luckily agrees and then leaves the room.

When he leaves you quickly call Loki back. He answers rather fast and distressed this time. A plethora of questions immediately roll off his tongue. You quickly stop him halfway.

“Loki, I’m alright. Sorry I didn’t pick up. I was with a doctor.” You can hear him sigh in relief.

“I was so worried when I didn’t hear from you and you didn’t show up today. I knew I should have driven you home last night!” You stop him again before he starts to ramble again.

“It’s not your fault. There was a broken traffic light.”

“How are you feeling? Can I come over?”

“I’m alright. On a lot of painkillers. I don’t think you should. It would be suspicious. The doctors told me I will be discharged soon. I’ll see you then.” Loki doesn’t like the idea of you being in the hospital all alone but eventually agrees. You talk a little longer until Loki has to go home from the university.

The next two days pass by slowly. Dimitri comes by in the afternoon but the rest is rather boring. When you are finally discharged you are over the moon. Dimitri came and picked you up. He brought you home, did some meal prepping since your left arm was completely useless.

He stays over the night and helps you in the morning to figure things out. Getting dressed was absolute hell. Luckily the hospital had given you some painkillers for your arm and bruised ribs. Dimitri is also nice enough to carry your bag into college.

It was difficult to get through Loki’s class. You were craving one of his hugs and to just talk to him for a moment. You wanted to dig your nose in his neck and take in his scent. When class is finally over Loki tells you to stay behind.

You walk up to him when students leave the classroom. He starts to talk to you about work you missed and whether you would have to catch it up. Once everyone is gone Loki rushes to the door, closes it and turns the lock. He pulls down the curtain that allows you to look into the room.

When the coast is finally clear Loki immediately pulls you in for a kiss. He holds both his hands on your cheeks as he does so. You lay your good hand on his shoulder and pull him nice and close to you. When he let's go you press your body against his. You press your head in the crook up of his neck. Loki puts his arms around you in return as gently as he can. One arm he moves to your head and gently cradles it.

“I’m so happy you’re okay,” he mumbles before kissing your hair. You don’t reply but just place a gentle kiss on his soft skin.

34 notes · View notes

dusky-dancing · 3 years

Text

What Grows in Winter

Rating: T

Length: ~4500 words

Pairing: Felix Hugo Fraldarius / Byleth Eisner

Tags: Mistletoe, Hand Warming, Kissing, Holiday Tropes, Fluff, Pining.

Summary: Fodlan’s coldest winter and a gruesome war greet Byleth upon waking from her five-year slumber, and while an improvised winter celebration is in the works, she’s more drawn to a familiar stability. Surely, whatever grows in the harshest seasons can survive anything.

This is my Felileth Secret Santa gift for Rex a.k.a Smoke n’ Milk! Check out their art twitter if you’re craving some Felileth. I hope you all enjoy, and have a very Merry Christmas!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Snow made sparring more challenging. Byleth already knew this, but to do so with Felix only a month after she’d awoken from her five-year slumber was much harder than she’d imagined.

It didn’t help that the weather had been relentless that year, and missing Red Wolf Moon meant missing wolf-hunting season, which would’ve supplied their soldiers and allies with the pelts and meat they needed to survive the cold. The guilt tugged at her mind at all times. So many from both the church and the Kingdom had quickly joined the cause with her name, yet she had nothing to show for it besides barely fending off an Empire assault.

Perhaps sparring Felix grew difficult because he’d grown stronger, or that Byleth had just grown weaker. No matter the excuse, her chill-stiffened muscles struggled to stay mobile against her opponent’s relentless strength.

“You’re slow.” He lunged swiftly, barely giving her time to parry his sword to the side and force an opening. His body pivoted with the movement, however, and their swords clashed before she could move forward on the offensive.

“It’s called a warm-up, Felix,” she panted.

“Maybe you’ll finally buy a coat, or make actual use of the one you already have,” he smirked and sliced at her sleeves that dangled unused from her shoulders. “Or admit that I’ve finally surpassed you.”

“Nah,” she said. “Match isn’t over, Fraldarius, and I doubt you’d accept victory that easily.”

“You’re right,” he chuckled before assuming a ready stance and waiting for her to move first.

Byleth almost accepted his bait out of spite until she felt something tickle her hair. Old habits kicked in, and she spun towards their intruder, which in turn startled Felix. Her sword swung for whatever had snuck up on them, but met only empty air, then a small fishing line. The culprit, a small tuft of twigs, leaves, and red berries, fell to her feet.

“Woah, woah! Easy!” Sylvain yelled from above. The paladin had somehow managed to climb to the roof with a fishing pole without alerting either Felix or Byleth to his presence. Maybe Byleth really had lost her touch.

“Sylvain, what the hell is wrong with you?!” Felix shouted.

With that, Sylvain leapt from the roof, dusted himself off, and held his hands up in defeat. “I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you! You two must’ve been really distracted.” He eyed the severed end of his fishing line. “How did you cut this with a wooden sword?”

“What do you want?” Felix asked. “We’re busy, if you haven’t noticed.”

Byleth’s eyes drifted to the small green shrub lying in the snow. “And what is that?” she added.

“Oh, this?” Sylvain smirked and picked it up, twirling it in his fingers. “Glad you asked. Annette and Merci tasked me with getting everyone into a more... festive ...spirit.”

Right, the mages’ mission to lift everyone’s spirits with an improvised winter celebration. The Lions had reunited, as had many of their allies, but Dimitri was far from a kingly state, their supplies ran short, and the monastery’s defenses were unprepared for another Empire incursion. The millenium-old walls had been worse for wear after five years of war and neglect, but their fortress, like their resolve to carry on, held together.

Mercedes and Annette had immediately called for a celebration of Byleth’s return, though she argued they had many more reasons to celebrate. The Millenium Festival marked their reunion, but the decorations, the music, the feasts, and the bright firelight that contrasted with the white snow had been absent. The two women were making up for that now, and most of the Lions had agreed to help.

“Sylvain, you know you’re supposed to hang up decorations, not flail them around on a fishing rod, right?”

“Ah, but this isn’t a decoration, my good friend.” He tied the bundle to the freshly-cut end of the fishing line and wiggled it between Felix and Byleth. “This, here, is a mistletoe.”

Byleth didn’t know what any of that meant, but if Felix’s reaction was any indication, it wasn’t any good. His annoyed narrow eyes flew open, and his cheeks that surely must have been freezing in the falling snow flushed red.

“See? Felix knows! I knew you’d-”

“Get lost, Sylvain.” Felix ducked away from the plant as if it was a deadly poison.

“Not until you two follow the tradition.” Sylvain’s unyielding grin told Byleth that he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Few were immune to Felix’s sudden outbursts, and Sylvain was likely the most seasoned in navigating the swordsman’s temper.

Despite the dread hanging in the air, Byleth was curious. “What tradition?”

Felix spun around and pointed his glove in Sylvain’s face. “Don’t tell her!” He didn’t address Byleth directly, but nodded to her. “Trust me, you’re better off not knowing our stupid traditions.”

“Great idea, Felix, why don’t you tell her!” Sylvain nudged his friend as his voice nearly sang. Their moods couldn’t be more opposite, but Byleth knew whose taste aligned more with her own.

Felix grunted. “Let’s just get back to training.”

In their brief repose, Byleth’s muscles had only stiffened by remaining stagnant. And she couldn’t deny her curiosity. “I’m not participating in any weird Faerghus traditions, but I should still know what they are.”

Sylvain’s smile grew all the way to his eyes while Felix scoffed with a look of betrayal. Maybe he wished that she’d push Sylvain to drop it. After a few tense moments, however, he yielded and turned back toward her. Even so, he kept his face turned away from her.

“When two people are caught under a mistletoe, the dumb tradition says they have to...kiss.”

“Oh,” was all Byleth could say in response. If Sylvain was watching her for a strong reaction, he wouldn’t get one. But that was only because her insides were imploding.

Sylvain wanted him to kiss her? Had he chosen them on purpose, or had it just been coincidence?

Did she... want to kiss Felix?

The man didn’t give her time to ponder the sensation any further. “But like I said, it’s dumb, it’s cold, and we’re busy. So get lost, Sylvain.”

“Oh, you’re busy . I see how it is.” He reeled in the mistletoe and swung it over his shoulder. “You two are the first to refuse, you know. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just a sign. A mistletoe is an omen of peace and protection from death. They grow even in the harshest winter. The fact that some began sprouting on the shrubs throughout the monastery is good, no?”

Felix’s face flared red, either with seething anger or pure embarrassment. “Then go find more willing participants and tell Edelgard the war’s over because of some weeds. Leave us.”

Sylvain threw his hands up in defeat. “All right, all right, I surrender. Consent is important, anyways.” Before he pushed the training ground doors open, however, he turned and gave them one last of his dazzling smiles. “You never refused, though. All I heard were excuses.” And with that, he shrugged and moved through the doors.

“Don’t waste that fishing line, Sylvain, I’ll need it later!” Byleth shouted before the doors slammed shut. An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment. Byleth was sure her fingers had fused to her sword hilt. “My hands are freezing,” she said in an attempt to break the tension and turn the conversation elsewhere.

When his eyes met hers, however, he almost looked apologetic. He’d never apologized for his outbursts in the past, so why did he look so regretful now?

Oh.

Her attempt to pull his attention away from the awkward situation appeared to work as he strode over to her and removed a glove. Atleast, it worked until his bare hand touched hers, and her cheeks flared with heat. Maybe it was just because his hand was exceptionally warm compared to hers, or maybe it was the sudden close proximity. Regardless, their brief reprieve from recent events was short-lived.

Felix pulled his hand away quickly. “Well, damn, of course they are. You’re gripping a wooden sword in the freezing snow, bare-handed. Will you buy some gloves already?”

“I suppose I’m not used to the cold.” She leaned her sword against a nearby pillar. Relieved that it hadn’t frozen stuck to her palm, she rubbed her now-free hands together for warmth. “It’s worse this year than I remember. Gloves are hard enough to come by, and I can’t...” she paused, recalling how many at the monastery were even less equipped for the cold. “I can’t let myself get comfortable yet.”

Felix sighed, still keeping arm’s distance from her. A moment later, he offered her both of his gloves. She was in the middle of exhaling warm breath against her hands and froze at his sudden gesture.

“Here, you’ll get warmer faster, then we can get back to work.”

He’d never demanded that she borrow anything of his before - not his coat, his gloves, and certainly not his sword. But she knew better than to leave him hanging for too long.

“Thank you,” she said before taking them. Her hands already felt warmer just holding the thick hide fabric. His gloves outsized her hands noticeably, and she didn’t miss the chuckle that came from him when the tips of the fingers flopped over.

But they were extremely warm. Instinctively, she clasped her hands together and brought them close to her face, and she inhaled the scent of pine and sword oil.

Was this how he always smelled?

“Felix?” she asked. He was doing everything in his power to not watch her, but his head turned toward her curiously. “You were right. Traditions are stupid,” she smirked.

His shoulders relaxed, and a half-smile to match her own replaced the scowl that had been present since Sylvain’s provocation. “I get why people have them, but there’s no point to just follow them blindly.”

“Even if they’re just for fun?” she asked.

“Sylvain should know better than to ask me to do something for fun .”

She smirked, “Yes, but he doesn’t know better than to push your buttons. There, I’d say he succeeded.”

Felix scoffed and turned away. As Byleth’s hands warmed, she realized she’d never really taken the time to notice how much her former students had grown. The one before her certainly had. He was taller and stronger, sure. She knew that enough from training with him, but he’d grown in his own mind as well. He’d hardened himself, likely from the war, yet at the same time his gaze had softened towards her and the other Blue Lions, save for Dimitri.

Maybe his vindication, knowing he’d been right all along about the prince, had brought with it a tragic sense of peace.

Back when the prince’s demons had begun to show themselves, Felix had been the only one she could approach about it without getting excuses or looks of pity. That was five years ago, though it still lived freshly in Byleth’s memory.

Five years. She’d seen the growth of her former students, but how had their view of her changed during her absence? How had Felix’s? If he’d thought her to be dead, perhaps he’d simply tucked away memories of her next to Glenn and sought out another rival to overcome. If he’d thought she lived, maybe he’d searched for her and had become more concerned and angry as time went on. Felix hadn’t volunteered which side he’d leaned toward yet, and truth be told, it didn’t matter to Byleth whether he’d believed her to be alive or dead. The fact that he was sparring with her now was enough of an answer.

She learned one more crucial piece of information - that the thought of kissing her made Felix absolutely flustered, not annoyed or irritated.

Despite how everything had changed, Felix remained a source of stability for her. Training with him brought her down to her humanity again, away from the realm of the goddess, nobles, and crests. A second thing she learned - the thought of kissing Felix made her flustered as well.

Amidst the realization, her hands had regained feeling. The growing impatience of her opponent made itself known in the way he paced with folded arms and tapped his bare fingers. Or maybe similar thoughts refused to leave his mind as well.

There was one way to find out.

When Byleth returned to Felix his gloves, she raised herself onto her toes, leaned in, and pecked her lips onto his cheek. He immediately pulled away like she’d just stabbed him, with an eyes-wide look of shock. His cheeks flushed red, and his sword fell from his grasp.

Byleth had seen Felix do many things when caught off guard, but she’d never seen him drop his weapon.

“Wh-what the hell was that for?!”

She retreated a step, doing her best to maintain her calm exterior. “As a thanks, and a way to fulfill that stupid tradition.”

He didn’t respond again, which made her second guess her own judgment. He’d looked like he’d wanted to kiss her, right? She hadn’t imagined the way he let her borrow his gloves, the way he watched her when they sparred.

“I-I’m sorry. I just thought that...you know what? Nevermind. I should go eat. The cold’s obviously getting to me.” She began to back away, but his bare hand caught her wrist. When she looked back in shock, his gaze was still fixated on the ground.

“It-it’s fine,” he croaked and cleared his throat before finally meeting her gaze. “But that’s not how the tradition goes.”

Byleth paused. Why did Felix suddenly care about the rules?

Unless…

“It doesn’t work with...just that.” He stepped closer, keeping a hold on her arm. “You have to…”

Oh.

Did he actually want to kiss her? The way his eyes held her screamed yes , with a taste of caution and a lingering question floating within them. So she answered with the smallest nod she could muster, afraid that moving too quickly would break whatever trance they’d found themselves in.

He didn’t move to touch her anywhere else, but heat flooded her every fiber as he leaned closer and tilted his head to the side. Her eyes closed themselves, overwhelmed at the sight, and then a warmth brushed across her lips. It was brief, if a little ticklish, and she responded in kind before the sensation quickly retreated.

Her eyes remained shut for too long, afraid of the image that would greet her. Would he look happy? Angry? She feared that he may have already turned his back and walked away before his calloused grip on her arm reminded her that he was still within reach.

Finally, her eyelids gained the strength to open, and indeed the sight would’ve made her heart race if it hadn’t been permanently unbeating. Felix watched her intently, searching her for emotions. Her self-expression was still muted, but he’d become one of the few people who could read her subtle changes, and she hoped that his intuition had remained with him after all those years.

What his eyes communicated, on the other hand, was as clear as day to her. Though he watched her, his gaze was soft with his eyelids hanging lightly. She cursed the snow that fell between the few inches of space between them, interrupting her view. She’d never denied that he was handsome in the same way she’d never deny his skills with a sword, yet now he looked to her almost as a lover would. Not quite open and comfortable enough to freely steal hazy glances, but enough to ask another question.

Is this really what you want?

A question that went unasked, as the words that came from him brought her thoughts to a halt. “Now it counts,” he spoke plainly, as if he were commenting on her sword technique.

They avoided one another's gaze once again, with his eyes darting down and hers upwards. She scanned the roof, suddenly paranoid that their prior company hadn’t completely left, and swore she saw a second, fresher disturbance in the snow that blanketed the roof. Whether the redhead would earn himself a few more weeks of stable duty wasn’t on the forefront of her mind, however, compared to the man retreating from her.

“I thought you hated traditions.” She turned her wrist in his grasp so she could return his hold, telling him he could stay if he liked.

Or possibly ask for more.

The thought of kissing him again, fully aware and able to better-prepare herself, erupted butterflies in her chest. She wondered if this was the closest she’d feel to a racing heartbeat.

“I do.” He kept his tone, but his expression held the same question as before. His voice dropped when he spoke again. “But I don’t...hate you.”

She tried to stop the snort that escaped from her nose to no avail, so her free hand came up to cover her face. Now Felix just looked offended, but the way his face continued to redden as he turned away told her that he wished he’d chosen his words better.

But she didn’t. Felix wasn’t the type of man to overthink his words. It was one of his traits that allowed him to be honest and insightful, even if his words stung. Regardless, she knew that I don’t hate you from Felix meant more than the words themselves.

Her grip on his wrist held firm, and she ran her thumb along the fabric of his sleeve. “I don’t hate you either, Felix.”

He seemed to just notice her touch, for his attention turned to their interlocked arms. Facing her again, he made her the flustered one when he slid his fingers down to take her hand instead. It surprised her how quickly he could turn the tables against her.

“Byleth…”

Familiarity hit her as he stepped closer again, only now his other hand caressed her shoulder, his warm gloves discarded somewhere in the snow. The gaze in his eyes, however, had shifted drastically. Where previously he approached her like a stray cat, now his eyes resembled a wolf - hungry and knowing exactly what he wanted. Her breath hitched, and she managed to rest her free hand against his waist. He was warm as always, but she swore he was shivering. No, trembling.

“Felix…”

Whatever words tried to spill from her were stopped, but not with the crashing of his lips against hers like she’d imagined. Instead, the doors to the training grounds burst open.

The wolf-like expression before her switched from hunger to anger. He pushed her away sharply, but she took no offense as she’d probably have done the same. Her attention turned to the entryway, where she expected to see Sylvain. She was partially correct, but the paladin wasn’t alone.

Ashe ran to the front and nearly collapsed into the snow, out of breath. “You aren’t going to believe this, Professor! I was scouting and-”

“Slow down, Ashe, you’re hyperventilating!” Mercedes patted his back and offered him water. Indeed, his face was beet red, and his breathing short. He panted as if he’d just run several miles up the mountain, which would be true if he’d been scouting.

“Let me finish.” He took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Professor, we won’t have to worry about blankets and pelts this winter, because a herd is approaching! A herd of...llamas!”

The surprise threw Byleth in many different mental directions. She suddenly became aware of her and Felix’s state. They’d tried to appear as if they’d just been sparring like any other day, yet their bare hands, long-abandoned swords, and fresh shoeprints in the snow gave away their close proximity only moments ago. She quickly scanned the crowd to see if anyone had picked up on those details. Ashe, though a skilled scout, was too winded and had let his senses drop within the safety of the monastery. Mercedes and Annette hadn’t noticed. So that just left-

Sylvain didn’t even try to hide the grin plastered on his face. He stood unnoticed in the back of the group, just so only Felix and Byleth would catch his gaze. Byleth felt heat rise to her face, but retained her well-practiced stoic facade. Felix, however, failed to hide his flustered annoyance, and his face grew brighter with every second. Luckily for him, the other students were only looking for their former professor’s reaction.

“We’ve never hunted those before,” Byleth said.

“You don’t hunt them!” Annette jumped to gain everyone’s attention. “You shepherd them and use their fleece to make blankets! They can even protect themselves and other livestock from wolves!”

“I don’t recall llamas being around when I was teaching.”

“They’re native to south Fodlan, where the climate is a little more friendly to them.” Sylvain finally broke his painfully teasing silence. “I guess the combination of the war in Alliance and Empire territory with the thinning human population around here drove them this far north.”

“That’s great news.” Byleth managed a small smile. One of her burdens - helping her friends and comrades survive the brutal winter - had been lifted.

“Yes!” Annette beamed. “No one will be cold this year!”

“Does this mean we’ll have to cancel our winter festival?” Mercedes asked.

For whatever reason, they looked to Byleth for an answer. She found the gesture sweet, that they still looked to her for guidance or permission for things she was barely involved in.

She already knew her answer, yet still scanned their faces. Annette and Mercedes begged with their eyes, and she resisted chuckling at their collective adorable nature. Ashe was beginning to regain his strength, seeming to just notice the other people present. It wouldn’t be long before he’d realize the awkwardness of the situation he’d just barged in on.

Sylvain looked to her curiously. She and Felix had practically cursed holiday traditions earlier, though Byleth had nothing against holidays or celebrations themselves. He was scanning her to see if she’d prioritize fun or practicality.

Well, why not both?

Finally, she turned to the man beside her. Felix waited for her reaction as well, though he’d probably only taken in half of the conversation. The flush of his cheeks had begun to subside, and he shot her a half-smile with folded arms. He knew the answer she was about to give, and was savoring the wait as much as she was.

“Of course not.” She could practically feel the collective sigh and smiled before facing the rest of her audience. “There are plenty of hands looking for busy work. I don’t see why we can’t handle both. Marianne is good with animals, so I’ll appoint her to lead.”

“We should clear a pasture for them, so they’ll know where a safe place is,” Annette added.

Ashe just laughed, seemingly still in disbelief of the day’s events. He definitely wasn’t the only one.

“Oh this is wonderful!” Mercedes clasped her hands together. “I hope they’ll come back next year, and the year after that! Imagine if it were safe enough to let children see them!”

“If they do, we’ll make it a-” the last word caught in Byleth’s throat, and her attention was immediately drawn to Sylvain’s smirk, somehow even larger than earlier. She swallowed and cleared her throat, looked to Felix, then back to Sylvain, and finished her thought, “-a tradition.”

Sylvain snickered, which confused everyone but the swordsmen. Felix’s flush quickly returned. It really wasn’t that hard to get a rise out of him, was it?

“Changed your mind on traditions, Professor?” Sylvain asked with his hands on his hips. “Could it be because some of them might work-”

“We got damn lucky,” Felix interrupted, letting loose his thoughts for the first time in this conversation. “You said it yourself: the war, the low population - that drove them here. Not your stupid mistletoe.”

“Oh, you took out the mistletoe!” Mercedes exclaimed. “You’re the best, Sylvain!”

“Just doing my duty.”

“Wait.” Annette tapped her chin. “Did Felix actually kiss someone!”

Byleth had done her work to keep the attention off of Felix thus far, but now he’d thrown himself to the wolves. Even Ashe’s eyes lit up. Byleth couldn’t help her amusement.

“No!” Felix shouted and stomped off to gather his sword. No one stopped him.

Sylvain, despite the endless dancing on Felix’s thin ice, came to his friend’s aid. “Alas, even I cannot get Felix to kiss anyone.” It wasn’t technically a lie.

“What about you, Professor?” Mercedes asked. “Did you kiss anyone?”

“I’m not kissing anyone who still calls me ‘Professor.’” Also not a lie, since Felix hadn’t addressed her by that title since their reunion.

“Good point,” Mercedes giggled. “I just can’t bring myself to call you by your first name yet.”

“Yeah,” Annette said. “You’ll always be our professor, first and foremost.”

“Well, someone’s kiss brought survivability to the monastery, that’s all I’m saying.” Sylvain shrugged his shoulders and shot both Felix and Byleth winks from the back.

Byleth could practically feel the heat radiating off of Felix, compared to the chilled falling snow around them. Luckily for them, Sylvain pushed it no further. Unluckily for them, the rest caught on.

“Felix, are you okay?” Mercedes asked. “You look like you’re catching a cold.”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled. “Just want to get back to training. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in a war.”

“I suppose we should go count the herd’s numbers,” Ashe said, “and start learning how to use their fleece.”

“Oh! I’ll come!” Annette skipped after him.

Mercedes eyed Felix suspiciously, not in the way Sylvain had, but like a concerned mother. She looked to Byleth, almost to communicate, make sure he takes care of himself , and Byleth affirmed her with a nod. Sylvain was the last to leave, simply offering the pair one last wink and a salute before closing the doors to the training grounds.

Being alone with Felix once more, they couldn’t ignore what had happened. Her exposed skin suddenly forgot all about the cold, and the supposedly fearless Ashen Demon couldn’t bring herself to look in the eyes of the man who’d kissed her.

“I should go, too,” she said. “I need to ask Marianne to take on her role and...other things.”

Felix was silent as she retrieved her training sword and hung it on the weapon rack where it would be protected by the roof’s overhang.

Perhaps he was still as flustered as she was, or he’d lost his courage to act. Or perhaps...he’d regretted it all.

Before she reached the large double doors, however, a firm hold pulled at her wrists and spun her around. Amber eyes met hers again, with a familiar hungry expression.

“Before you go,” he hummed, only audible by their proximity, “just know that I…”

He took a moment to search for the right words, his darting pupils betraying his thoughts. In the end, he gave up on talking and simply kissed her. Damn him for catching her off-guard again, but she wouldn’t hesitate a second time. She pulled her wrists free in favor for grasping his fur collar. Soon she felt his hands at her waist, and knew he wouldn’t retreat.

So warm. He was so warm, and suddenly surviving the harsh war-torn winter didn’t feel so improbable.

#fire emblem: 3 houses #fe3h fanfic #felileth #felix hugo fraldarius #byleth eisner #sylvain jose gautier #felileth secret santa 2020 #mistletoe #kissing #fluff #pining #my writing #dusky writing #long post

37 notes · View notes

frustrated-writer-skyeknight · 3 years

Text

My main Fanfic squad, but as F.r.i.e.n.d.s (so S.q.u.a.d i guess)

Chandler - Hiccup

Monica - Jack

Ross - Jim

Rachel - Dimitri

Joey - Astrid

Phoebe - Jamie

Scene One

Jack: You know I just don't get it. I mean, I didn't plan to quote 'ruin my marriage' unquote shortly after having one. I don't see why I'm the only one getting all the beef when it's Elsa who wanted the divorce to happen so soon.

Jamie: I mean... Mom still doesn't believe you had no idea she was a lesbian.

Jack: No, no. See, the plan was...

Hiccup: There was a plan for this?

Jack: The plan was... After a year, Elsa would file the divorce because 'Jack isn't suitable for marriage life' like I also kept telling our parents. Then, I finally come out to them as gay because 'this experience traumatized me from liking women' instead of saying I've been that way the whole time. Now turns out, she wants a divorce cause she's the gay one.

Hiccup: So you did plan to ruin it anyway?

Jamie: Then, tell mom and dad that.

Jack: I would, but it's Elsa's call and she doesn't really want to come out yet.

Hiccup: So, what are you going to do now?

Jack: Well, for the meantime, I'd be happy not to deal with any talks of my marriage or divorce for now.

Just then, Dimitri walks in during a hot stuffy day, wearing a tuxedo, of all things...

Hiccup: Okay, how about someone else's?

Dimitri: *goes up to the counter* Excuse me, hi. Uh, I'm looking for someone? I'm told they might be here.

Jack: Dimitri?

Dimitri: *turns around* Jack! Thank god. Nevermind, I've found him.

Jack: Why are you dressed that way? Wait, did you commute all the way over here in that?

Dimitri: I don't even have bills that aren't in rubles. I walked.

Jack: On a hot July heat wave? How are you alive?

Dimitri: Man, I don't know. I wish I was dead. I'm not having the best day.

Barista: Can I get you anything?

Jack: Iced tea. Grande size, thanks.

Jack and Dimitri move to the couch and the white haired man started introducing him to his friends...

Jack: Of course, you know Jim.

Dimitri: *elbows Jack roughly*

Jim: *raises a brow*

Jack: ...and you remember my brother, Jamie?

Dimitri: Of course, hey Jamie. Still think my grandpa is the boogeyman?

Jamie: He looks like a skeleton who sold his soul to add flesh over it. Boogeyman is being polite, in his case.

Dimitri snickers in response as he took a spot on the lounge couch while he waited for the iced tea ordered for him...

Jack: So are you actually going to tell us what happened or should I buy you a vowel too?

Dimitri: Okay... So an hour before my wedding, it literally dawned on me I was going to get married to Anastasia Romanov. And it got me thinking... Do I really want to spend the rest of my life as Dimitri Romanov?

Astrid: Huh, nice. Usually, the bride takes the groom's last name. Glad society's evolved enough to let it happen the other way.

Dimitri: *shrugs* Her last name carries more prestige. Which brings me to my next point... The luxurious life is appealing and all but I don't think it's really worth the boredom of putting up with the entitled rich highlanders in the monthly banquets. At least, that's not a life I want.

Hiccup: See, even the only ones who say that are those rich enough to afford saying it.

Astrid: Like you can talk. Your dad's a lawyer. You lived in a big house in the Suburbs in your childhood.

Dimitri: Anyway, long story short, I ran off from my wedding. And I went to where I knew Jack lived, but he wasn't at his flat. So this big guy wilting a piece of wood on the hallway told me I might find him here and you're the only one I know in the city that didn't come to the wedding.

Jack: ... I wasn't invited to the wedding.

Dimitri: What? But mother told me she sent you an invitation.

Jack: And you remember exactly how your folks feel about me, right?

Dimitri: Well, uh, my mother at least seemed convincing that she was making more attempts in being open...

Scene two

Hiccup: Ever notice that the most popular KDramas usually involve love triangles, petty jealousy, and cliché main guy heartthrobs?

Astrid: Maybe the ones you watch? Kingdom isn't like that.

Hiccup: Yeah, but the have the overused zombie infestation plot to make up for it.

Jamie: When will you guys just watch TV shows for their purpose?

Astrid: And what's that?

Jamie: Entertainment.

Hiccup: Well, when it's actually doing its purpose I guess.

Meanwhile, Dimitri was on the phone while Jim went to get a snack from the fridge....

Dimitri: I'm fine, uncle Vlad. And I'll feel much better if I wasn't hearing dad cussing like a sailor in the background. You know what, just put him on and let's get this over with...

Jack pauses his phone streaming Netflix before they all turned to not-so-subtly eavesdrop on Dimitri, even Jim stares at the Russian while nibbling on a muffin...

Dimitri: Yeah, it's m─dad no─Well, if you stop cursing my existence long enough to let me explain─Is mom there? Cause she'd be rubbing soap on your mouth by now!

Jim: Huh, dad troubles. *walks back to the den* Now I see why the Russian ran.

Hiccup: ... In your case, your dad ran though...

Jim: This muffin could be used as a lethal murder weapon, Haddock.

Dimitri: Znayete chto, k chertu eto, ya prosto skazhu eto. I'm gay, and always have been since forever. Even Anya knows!

Jack: Called it.

Hiccup: He was your roommate at college. Of course you called it.

Dimitri: Yeah well, tell mama I love her but screw you pops. It's my life, and I'm gonna live it the way I want...... Well, maybe I don't need your roof to return to. I'll just stay here....... Hey, he may be bottom feeder Jack to you, but he's my friend bottom feeder Jack!

Jack: I guess we established I'm still bottom feeder Jack.

Dimitri: It's my decision now, dad....... Well, maybe I don't want to keep my inherita─ No, no! I said maybe! *face falls and places the phone back on the counter and slumps on a dining room chair* Well, now I'm cut off. Shostakovitch... I don't know if the heatwave is just hitting now, or if I'm having a panic attack...

Jack snaps his fingers and went through the kitchen drawers to take out a paper bag and handed it over to Dimitri, telling him to breathe in and out of it...

Jack: Okay, just take calming breaths buddy. Calm, calm...

Dimitri: *breathing quickly, narrowing his eyes at Jack*

Jack: C'mon, don't look at me like that. Just... You know, think of less stressful thoughts. Think happy thoughts.

Dimitri: *inhales* I am *exhales* drawing a blank... Little help?

Jamie: 🎶Think of a wonderful thought. Any merry little thought... Think of Christmas, think of snow. Think of sleigh bells off you go!🎶

Dimitri: *throws off paper bag* Not like that.

Astrid: *shrugs* Made me happy.

Scene three

Dimitri: So, uh, listen James....

Jim: Dude, Jim is fine.

Dimitri: Right... So, I don't know if you knew this. But back in High school, I had a secret crush on you.

Jim: Oh, I heard of it. Didn't really think it was true, though.

Dimitri: Really? Why not?

Jim: Seriously? With practically everyone and their literal mothers going on about how you were gonna marry Romanov after college? Case in point, what you almost did hours ago. I thought they were just messing with me.

Dimitri: You did? Uh, so... I was wondering... Maybe I could take you out some time? Like... On a date? I mean, after the whole... Runaway groom thing dies down?

Jim: Well, we'll see.

Znayete chto, k chertu eto, ya prosto skazhu eto. - You know what to hell with this I'm just gonna say it.

Used google translate

#Hiccup Haddock #Jack Frost #Dimitri Sudayev #Jim Hawkins #Jamie Bennett #Astrid Hofferson

4 notes · View notes

crackimagines · 4 years

Text

Overlord Three Houses Supports

Overlord 3H AU Masterlist

----

Universal Supports: Byleth, House Isekai

Ainz Ooal Gown

Closest Friends: Edelgard, Linhardt, Claude, Dimitri, Hapi, Hubert, Mercedes

Ainz, to his Floor Guardians, is a merciful and fair being, striking any who oppose Nazarick down, always seeing the bigger goal ahead, and is perfect in every way. Ainz is cold and calculating, and extremely pragmatic.

To everyone in the Monastery, it’s very clear he has no idea what he’s doing, but no one says anything due to not wanting to be murdered by his group.

When not around his group, they tend to see the real Ainz, which is just a regular person, skeletal appearance aside. He is respectful, but is absolutely brutal to any enemies of his fellow students and his own House.

Ainz sees Fodlan as a bizarre world, not at all similar to Yggdrasil, the DMMO-RPG he played almost religiously before being teleported to a new world. While he doesn’t particularly care about the politics in it, he at least cares somewhat for his classmates.

Rest of the cast under the cut!

---

Albedo

Closest Friends: Dorothea, Hilda, Manuela, Petra, Hubert

The first thing that everyone noticed about Albedo was that she was absolutely beautiful. The next thing was that she was a succubus. The fact a literal monster was at Garreg Mach was unnerving, but she seems to get along mostly with everyone. She is seems to be polite, but is terrifyingly in love with Ainz, and would definitely kill every one of them if he ordered it.

Sylvain and Lorenz have been the only ones to make her genuinely mad, and extremely close to murdering them.

Despite her disdain for humans, she doesn’t seem to dislike most of the humans at Garreg Mach and in her own House. Mostly due to the interactions from the last classroom environment, and finds House Isekai with the most tolerable to likable humans.

Shalltear

Closest Friends: Edelgard, Hubert, Mercedes, Linhardt

Being an undead vampire makes mostly everyone stay away from her, but she doesn’t appear to be malicious. At least at first.

Those who spent any amount of time knows that she is sadistic, just as kinky as Darkness, and absolutely terrifying. She has a distaste for humans like most of Nazarick, but seems to keep it under control at Garreg Mach, going so far as to like a few people here.

Demiurge

Closest Friends: Edelgard, Hubert, Shamir, Claude

Whenever Demiurge enters the room, everyone gets a cold chill running down their spine. He is even more cold-blooded than Ainz, and calculates things down to a brutal efficiency. Everyone is convinced he has a plan to kill the entire Monastery. Which he does.

He is one of the most loyal to Ainz, right behind Albedo. The church keeps a close eye on him, and he returns the surveillance in kind with his magic.

While he prepares and plots against his classmates, he doesn't harm them and gets along fine with them, especially Hubert. He enjoys working in this new environment, and seeing those in awe of his great ruler, Ainz Ooal Gown.

Cocytus

Closest Friends: Felix, Ingrid, Ashe, Caspar, Leonie, Catherine, Jeritza, Dimitri

Everyone pulled their weapons on Cocytus when they first saw what he was. After a bit of time, people are still not used to him, but his classmates see him as one of the few nice people from Ainz’s group.

He is a warrior through and through, and has an honor system that would humble anyone, especially those training to be knights.

Cocytus specifically likes training the students, seeing such young warrior spirits waiting to unlock their full potential. He genuinely likes a lot of the students at the Monastery, along the Knights of Seiros.

Pandora’s Actor

Closest Friends: Flayn, Annette, Marianne, Yuri, Dimitri, Ashe, Ingrid

Even though Nazarick’s group has literal demons and monsters walking about, everyone finds Pandora’s Actor the weirdest of the bunch.

He is a shapeshifter, but that is not what makes him notorious. He is extremely flamboyant in his speech, actions and even poses. Despite his flashiness, he is generally a nice enough person, albeit annoying sometimes. Ainz does everything in his power to avoid him, and to prevent him from embarrassing the group further.

Ainz’s attempts do not work.

A exaggerant and jolly figure who wishes to do all to help his creator, Ainz. Be it from getting his attention to even fighting him if he has to. He's prone to be rather embarrassing to Ainz yet Pandora’s Actor does not care.

Sebas

Perhaps the most normal and kind one of the group, he is fairly popular around the Monastery. While not human himself, he does not hold contempt for them, in fact its the opposite. Willing to help train the younger students to hone their skills and being an advising figure for all, he was voted to be an Instructor for House Isekai. He is a brutal fighter, able to punch people’s heads clean off, making him loved and feared.

Sebas likes the enthusiastic natures of the Youths of Garreg Mach, and is more than happy to spend time with them, making sure the rules are being kept and helping those in need. Sebas is the first person of Nazarick that people go to for advice, followed by Cocytus.

Despite his overall friendly and respectful manner, his absolute loyalty is with Ainz, not anyone else.

Aura and Mare (Respectively)

Aura is a very cheerful, tomboyish girl who is often straightforward and blunt with her remarks. Mare has a shy and cowardly personality, the kind which is a polar opposite to his sister, Aura. He often stutters when speaking and maintains a subservient demeanor during conversations. Despite their appearances, they are able to carry out the most cold-blooded orders without question or hesitation for Ainz, as their loyalty is unwavering towards him.

Even though they are very old (Around seventy in age), they often get lumped in with the younger students of the Academy, and their childlike-demeanor does not help make them seem like their age. They are completely neutral towards humans, and get along with the students relatively well.

The Monastery also notes Aura and Shaltear not getting along, though students with siblings point out that it’s more of a familial way of acting, as if they were actually sisters.

-----

The Pleiades

The Pleiades Six Sisters, left to right

Yuri Alpha, Lupusregina Beta, Entoma Vasilissa Zeta, CZ2I28 Delta, Narberal Gamma, Solution Epsilon

They generally do not interact with the students of the Monastery, due to a majority of them hating humans, but can get along if ordered to.

Though due to a majority of them having to interact with humans in their own world and with Kazuma’s group, the Pleiades have grown slightly more tolerant of them.

Those of House Isekai are the only humans they get along with right off the bat, since some of them have been with Ainz before.

Universal Supports: Byleth, House Isekai

Yuri

Closest Friends - Byleth, Ashe, Ingrid, Lysithea, Leonie, Seteth, Edelgard

A dullahan (Undead who can remove their head) and leader of the Battle Maids, she is one of the two sisters that humans can “safely” talk to. She is the one of the few among Nazarick who do not outright despise humans, and likes them. Her behavior is strict and is like that of a teacher, but acts more like a tomboy in private.

Lupusregina

Closest Friends - Claude, Yuri, Hapi, Dorothea, Hilda, Mercedes, Annette, Ignatz, Raphael, Ferdinand

A werewolf and the most cheerful one of her sisters. She has a very bright and outgoing personality, but is able to act accordingly like a perfect lady. She is sociable and friendly towards humans. However she is brutal and cunning, and has an extremely sadistic nature, making her one of the most dangerous to humans.

Entoma

Closest Friends (Used VERY LOOSELY) - Flayn, Cyril, Lysithea, Annette

Entoma has the appearance of a young girl wearing traditional Japanese attire. Her eyes and mouth never move, but that is due to her true form being an spider-human. In fact, she likes to eat humans, finding them delicious.

Despite her literally eating them, she doesn’t particularly care for them much, if they don’t bother her, she doesn’t bother them. When she isn’t hungry, anyway. Though having to be at the Monastery, she instead eats any bandits or prisoners around Garreg Mach.

CZ2128

Closest Friends: Mercedes, Annette, Ashe, Hapi, Costance, Flayn, Dedue, Dimitri, Hilda

CZ2I28 is emotionless and usually silent, due to being an automaton. However, she likes cute things and likes to mark them with a one yen sticker. She normally does not respond to humans and ignores them, though there have only been a select few she actually responds to.

She is the second of the two sisters that humans can safely talk to without the threat of being murdered for saying the wrong thing.

Narberal

Closest Friends (Used VERY LOOSELY) - Ashe, Edelgard, Hubert, Dimitri, Dedue, Felix

Narberal is a doppleganger like Pandora’s Actor. She views humans as nothing more than low-class creatures, always pondering to kill anyone who dares look down upon Ainz before asking his permission to do so. Ironically enough, she dislikes the thought of killing humans, she will not hesitate to do so if there is no reason to let them live, or unless given an order by Ainz.

She is generally calm, but prone to anger quickly. It is also very easy to make her flustered.

Solution

Closest Friends (Used VERY LOOSELY) - Hubert, Edelgard, Claude, Dimitri

Solution is a slime-like predator creature and thinks of humans as food and toys. She loves to swallow humans alive and enjoys the suffering and struggling of her victims. She is also very logical, often questioning her more powerful superiors if their actions are not beneficial to Nazarick as a whole.

57 notes · View notes

viviae · 5 years

Text

One of my favorite things about dimitri post timeskip is how they convey how physically intimidating he is and how much he’s changed over the years.

To start off with, Dimitri is one of the few characters that actually grow post timeskip that isn’t related to their shoe wear. And by god, he’s grown a lot. He’s now one of the tallest characters in the entire game (sharing his height with lorenz and Hubert) but he seems like a mountain.

Lorenz and Hubert aren’t meant to come off as physically intimidating, as Lorenz is always animated to seem more graceful and refined and more at comfort with himself. Hubert only comes off as scary due to grounded and focused he is. Dimitri is the exact opposite of them all.

In all his animations when first meeting him in his state of blood lust he’s always shaking. It’s almost like the weight of his own body is threatening to come crushing down on him at any moment. It’s immediately off putting to the player as he never shares these unique animations with anyone else.

Comparing to sweet baby dimitri who was still always hiding his rage with guarded movements the shaking he does makes even the smallest conversation with him seem genuinely scary. He’s a man so broken he can’t even carry his own body.

He’s always had a unique animation for when being a ground unit with a lance if you examine how he stands ready compared to sylvain or other lance users it’s more like he’s willing to jump into combat. He’s much more aggressive in his animation and it all comes to fruition when the most you’ll be seeing of this animation is his unique classes post timeskip. The only time he doesn’t shake is when he’s in combat, and in that he’s a force always ready to fight.

#fe #fe:3h spoilers #fe:3h #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimileth #fe:16 #god i could talk about how fantastic dimitri is designed until it kills me #i should shut up about the blue lions and talk about golden deer at some point #but they are so good

650 notes · View notes

sabineelectricheart · 3 years

Text

Licking His Lips

Summary: Dimitri is jealous when he sees his professor wearing her old mercenary clothes. This will not stand.

Rating: MA - Content is only suitable for mature adults. May contain explicit language and adult themes.

Words: 2100

Notes: Smut galore. I thought I’d make Dimitri more of a sexist pig, because, y’know, medieval, but it turned out he was pretty tame. Oh, well, next time I’ll get ’em.

“Oh, professor!” Mecedes gushes as soon as they see their instructor coming over from the Archbishop’s room to the Entrance Hall. “Don’t you look lovely this morning?”

Dimitri frowns, keeping his eyes focused on the trunks in front of him. He might appreciate Mercedes and Annette as individuals, but whenever they come together, it was an ordeal. He hates the noise of their gossips and snickered laughter, he detests that sense of a hub of whispers and wasted time when there are things to do and more important subjects to address.

Byleth thanks the church ward politely, but that does not satisfy her pink-haired friend.

“Doesn’t the professor look lovely, Your Highness?” She snickers, and the blond noble thinks this whole affair had been carefully planned by their meddlesome scheming.

Not that he actually needed their help to express his appreciation towards their blue-haired professor.

He sighs. As much as he would like to, he cannot ignore the incessant prattle, so he sweeps his eyes from the shiny tops of Byleth’s riding boots, across her legs covered in black lace and armoured chest, to protect against wandering arrows, to her beautiful face, looking away from his scrutiny.

It had been over six Moons since Dimitri saw the comely woman in such a scandalous garb. He knew those were her travelling clothes, which she used often while a mercenary, but ever since she arrived in Garreg Mach, Seteth had provided her with an array of black and grey dresses to be worn in class, and while out on the field, she usually wore the nunnery habit of the monastery, proper of the magical classes she elected to use, to better assist their learning efforts.

Alas, in a couple of bells, they would depart to Gronder Field, for the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion. She had declined travelling with the Archbishop and Seteth, so she would be allowed a more comfortable wear, and, despite him also insisting that she travel with him on the Royal Carriage, she had pointed out that Dedue was much too heavy to ride the same horse all the way to the Bergliez hunting lodge, and it would be uncomfortable for the three of them to sit eight hours in such close proximity.

Byleth would ride with Rodrigue and the rest of the Royal Bodyguards in the front, which motivated her to dust her old outfit, but it also meant that Dimitri would have to watch that damn skirt to roll up, her breasts to move in the rhythm of the horse’s gallop, her navel exposed to the sun, and he would not be able neither to touch or even speak with her. It would be torture.

He wonders if he would be able to convincedly persuade Rodrigue to force his professor into ceremonial garb. At least they had long breeches.

“If that skirt were any higher, we would all be able see what you had for breakfast.” Dimitri snaps, ignoring the gasps around him as he turns on his heel.

He is not sure why he is in such a bad mood, or rather a worse mood than usual, as mornings were always difficult to him. His headache was under control, and he did catch some sleep the night before. Yet, the prince has moved from gruff to grumpy in a matter of seconds, and he finds his thoughts returning to the vision of the professor more than once as he finishes packing and giving orders to the guards.

It is not that he minds the skirt that sits a palm above her knee. In fact, he loves how easily it scrunches up to her waist as he leans her over his large desk, taking her from behind at every available opportunity, but he does mind that other people notice.

They are not official. They cannot be. He is a noble, a prince at that, and could not afford to court a mercenary in any official capacity, not to mention that her position in Garreg Mach was undoubtedly fraught, and a scandal would cement the idea that she had slept her way into her job, even though the Church would never allow such a thing.

His funk continues throughout the morning, and he is still out of sorts when he meets Sylvain and Felix at the training grounds, probably there to sneak a little bit of practice before the big day tomorrow.

Dimitri channels his rage into his routine, digging deeper than he has in a while.

“It would be best if you slow down, Your Highness. You do not want to hurt something today of all days!” Sylvain furrows his brow as he spots Dimitri’s lifts.

“I’m fine.” Dimitri grunts through gritted teeth.

He has starting to feel more than a little regret that he came here to try to decompress, since both of his equally-noble classmates have shown more than passing interest in Byleth over the last year.

Dimitri is admittedly less worried about Felix than he used to be, since his former friend does not seem that invested in anything other than becoming stronger and beating his sovereign into line, but something tells him Sylvain Gautier is still one to watch.

“Why are you so perky?” The prince asks the famed philanderer as they put away the training lances.

Sylvain shrugs, his grin stretching from one ear to another. “I started the day with my favourite thing.”

He wiggles his eyebrows and runs a tongue across his top lip, signalling he had enjoyed some sort of sexual activity in his room before dawn.

Felix frowns. “You are absolutely disgusting, Sylvain. Don’t you have anything better to do in the morning?”

Dimitri rolls his eyes and says a curt goodbye, but as the day stretches on infinitely, he wonders just who Sylvain is spending his mornings with.

Surely not Byleth? They’re together, right? Just because they cannot be public, it does not mean that she had the right to cuckhold him with the entire Faerghus nobility. He had maintaining unwavering fidelity; she could surely extend the same curtesy.

What does Sylvain even have that he does not? Certainly not beauty, wealth, a title or a Crest, as the prince has no shortage of any.

By the time of their departure towards the Imperial border, he is already at his wits’ end, particularly because he cannot find his professor anywhere. He spends the whole eight hours in the carriage grumbling and glaring at wheat fields and collapses into a restless sleep at his luxurious private room at the Lodge as soon as they arrive.

Though, sleep might be a misleading word. More accurately, he thrashes in the frilly bedsheets in Imperial fashion while being haunted by nightmares of Sylvain and Byleth doing the same thing just down the hall.

By the morning, before breakfast, he has a plan of action, and he pounces as soon as Byleth walks into his chambers.

“What the…” Her words are cut off as he presses his lips to hers, sandwiching her body between the door and his own as he locks the lock shut.

Her eyes widen in momentary surprise and then flutter closed as his lips trail down her neck and a hand works its way up her skirt.

“You are gorgeous.” Dimitri murmurs as he tastes the smooth skin above her collarbone.

“I thought you did not like this skirt, Dimitri.” Byleth teases.

His ice-blue eyes harden as he pulls back to meet her gaze.

“I like it just fine on my floor.” He tugs at the leather straps that held the fabric on her waist and it smoothly slides down her thighs. “Less so in the hallways, where anyone can see it.”

“So, this is what the whole commotion was about?” She folds her arms across her waist. “You are jealous?”

“Hardly.” He loosens his uniform as he pops the buttons of her blouse. “I just value professionalism.”

Byleth snorts derisively.

“Clearly you do, Your Highness.” She gestures to herself as she shrugs out of her top and Dimitri gulps as he takes in the black lace corset, matching panties and thigh-high stockings.

He pulls their bodies together, flushing again as he divests her of her remaining clothing.

“This is our place.” He tells her as she fumbles with the buckle of his riding trousers. It would be a chore to dress themselves back again, but neither cared for that now. “Forget about everything while we are here.”

She bends as if to fall to her knees, but he stops her. Now that she is nude, he has other plans for her.

He lifts her in his arms, carrying her to the seat by the tiny working desk and kneeling at her feet. Her eyes widen as he leans in and swipes his tongue across the tender folds of flesh between her thighs.

“Dimitri…” The teacher moans, gripping at his blond, full hair.

It is an unusual flavour. Something spiced and musky, very unlike what he would expect of a woman that spent most of her youth travelling through Adrestia. Yet, despite enjoying the taste, the reaction she has to the soft licks makes him double down on the task.

His is the only name he wants her to call when she is like this.

The prince moves her legs apart in a wider angle, one that allows his forehead to touch her lower abdomen and her knees to rest against his broad shoulder, and she groans and lolls her head back as he curves his tongue and pushes it as far as he can inside of her entrance.

“Holy Star!” Byleth shrieks as he adds one finger and then another to his efforts.

The professor begins to pant and he has to pull back then, to see her quaking at his ministrations. She is a thing of beauty: blue hair splayed around her face and sunlight filtered by the red satin curtains streaming across her nakedness. Her breasts rising and falling with every breath, areolas large and dark.

A bead of sweat rolls down her neck and past the valley, across the plains of her toned midsection and further still to where his digits are pistoning her in and out.

“Please, do not stop!” She begs, and he obliges, returning his mouth to her centre.

It is a strange thing, to have so much power while bowing servantly at someone’s feet. Maybe this is why Sylvain and his delusions of power and status like it so much.

When Byleth explodes, Dimitri is almost mad with desire, balls heavy and muscles taut. He pulls her from the seat to her hands and knees on the ground and enters her from behind with a single, forceful lunge.

“Not too loud.” He cautions into her ear, although a part of him hopes a certain member of the Blue Lions overhears them somehow.

“Say that you are mine.” The prince demands, quickening his thrusts.

“All yours.” She admits it in a whimper that only seasons his arousal.

He pushes her legs together, his knees outside of each of hers so that she is even tighter around him and he ruts once, twice, three more times before spilling himself completely inside of her, in a most unbecoming scene for someone of his high station.

They lie there together, strewn over the cold stone floor, catching their breath, and for a moment he wishes he was just a nameless mercenary on Jeralt’s merry band, so that he could marry her and make her scream like that night and day.

Byleth turns around in his arms and runs a hand across his unmarred cheek.

“A penny for your thoughts?” She whispers softly.

Dimitri swallows heavily. He knows he cannot tell her the ridiculous notion he was entertaining, so he settles for something else that is true, albeit not front of mind.

“I am famished.” He announces as he hefts himself up.

“Seems like you had a pretty healthy breakfast to me.” The woman quips, humoured by their situation.

He laughs, in spite of himself.

“A hearty one.” The prince concurs. “Yet, I found myself more famished than I was before.”

They take their time dressing, kissing tenderly as each garment is thrown and straightened.

They part ways as they exit the room, him heading for the cafeteria and her for the dormitory.

“Victory dinner later?” She asks him hopefully as she retreats.

He smiles. “Certainly.”

Dimitri watches as she walks away, so wrapped up in the sight of her elegant form that he does not realise he is licking his lips.

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

#fire emblem #Dimitri Blaiddyd

3 notes · View notes

goldenlionimagines · 5 years

Note

How would the FE cast go trick-or-treating? I wonder which of the professors would actually give out candy to them if the students DID trick or treat...? Anyway, just curious about concepts of halloween!!!

I wrote for almost every character. I’m sorry.

Golden Deer

Claude goes out with a basket of eggs and a few rolls of toilet paper. Nobody joins him.

Raphael gets wildly excited every time he gets candy, despite knowing how Halloween works.

Lysithea pretends that she’s not equally excited, but as soon as she’s back in her dorms, she stuffs her face.

Marianne doesn’t say “trick or treat”, she just apologizes after she knocks.

Hilda doesn’t even bother to dress up, simply holding out a bag when the door opens.

Ignatz paints a burlap sack and makes a work of art to carry his candy.

Leonie considers this a waste of time, but the thought of free food makes her change her mind.

Lorenz also finds trick or treating worthless, but this is an opportunity to show off his costume, and he worked too hard to pass it up.

Blue Lions

Dimitri is overly polite when knocking on doors and asking for candy.

Felix bickers with Sylvain about anything he can think of, but he enjoys himself secretly. He also gives all of his candy to Ingrid.

Sylvain flirts with most of the women who open their doors. The doors are slammed in his face immediately.

Ingrid won’t stop eating her candy. Sylvain tries to make fun of her for it. Once.

Mercedes is more ghost hunting than anything else, but the candy is a nice addition.

Ashe regrets walking in front of Mercedes, as he’s forced to listen to increasingly terrifying stories.

Annette tries to cheer him up, eagerly bartering candy and talking over Mercedes.

Dedue lags behind the group, feeling simultaneously awkward and happy to be invited. He has a small smile on his face the entire night.

Black Eagles

Edelgard forms a battle plan, mapping out which houses to avoid and which to got to first.

Hubert stands by her side the entire time; he doesn’t need a costume, the grin he wears is scary on its own.

Petra doesn’t quite understand the holiday, but she enjoys herself. She asks “treat or trick?” at every door.

Dorothea sings her “trick or treat”. She never eats all of her candy, sliding about half to Bernadetta.

If Bernadetta leaves her room, she hides behind whoever she can, refusing to ask for candy or go anywhere near peoples houses.

Ferdinand is just a bit obnoxious when he asks for candy in a booming voice, but he flashes a grin to cancel it out.

Caspar is on a bit of a sugar high, bothering everyone until he crashes, lagging behind and staying very quiet.

Linhardt is at the back of the group, nose in a book or blankly staring off into the distance. He doesn’t bring a bag because he doesn’t want to carry it, content to beg others for candy the next day.

Church

Seteth is in a bad mood; his office was egged by an unknown student, so until he finds the culprit, the door his locked and any knocking is met with a grouchy response.

Flayn is standing outside of Seteth’s office, refusing to let the egg incident get to her. She hands out candy as Seteth grumbles behind the door. Her secret? She’s going to wait until he leaves to “utilize” a roll of toilet paper she’s hidden away.

Manuela is drunk in the infirmary, quietly sobbing into a pillow. She’ll try and hand the students a half empty bottle, but it’ll roll out of her hand before she can grab it.

Alois makes himself cry laughing with the Halloween puns he can use. His bellowing laughter is terrifying when it echoes late at night.

Catherine gives out strips of jerky instead of candy, refusing to support unhealthy eating habits.

Shamir is nowhere to be found. Someone tried to prank her with a centipede in her bed, so she’s decided to leave Garreg Mach for the day, maybe a year.

Cyril has never been trick or treating before, and he doesn’t really see the point in it. He follows along semi-reluctantly, but doesn’t deny that he enjoys getting free candy. He mutters about having so much work to do the entire night.

~Mod Ayama

150 notes · View notes

nicolewrites · 4 years

Text

two shots of vodka

@mishspelled, @tsunnychan, @shining-jul-of-hope here’s more of this roommates au nonsense because someone talked down about vodka.

Dedicated to that one shrine in BOTW which sucks and also the cocktails my friend and I made on Canada Day last year.

Rating: T Genre: Friendship Characters: Sylvain Jose Gautier & Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Words: 2,300

Movie night has been their tradition for years. / roommates au

AO3

“Are you two going to help me or continue to fail miserably?” Ingrid called.

Her hands were currently stained red from the juice of the strawberries she was cutting and she’d only made it through half of a box. The lemonade and vodka bottles were waiting on standby next to the blender and the box of popcorn was still sitting, unpopped, on the counter in front of the microwave.

“We’re almost there, Ing, come on!” Sylvain protested, not even tearing his eyes from the TV screen.

Felix didn’t even bother to reply, twisting his controller with such an intense look of concentration Ingrid wondered if he would throw the controller at the TV if he managed to lose this time. On the screen, the glowing orb balanced precariously on the edge of some kind of maze thing. Felix tilted his hands a little and the orb shot forward, launching onto the next area of land.

Sylvain cheered and jumped off the couch as the game played its telltale jingle for the correct solving of the puzzle. “Fuck yeah, Felix!”

Felix groaned and dropped the controller, tipping sideways so that his face collided with the couch. “I fucking hate that puzzle. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “No one told you that you had to play the game again.”

Felix lifted his hand and flipped her off without moving. “I have to be ready for the race.”

Sylvain laughed. “Look, just because Dorothea challenged you to a race doesn’t mean you have to actually do it.”

Felix looked up at Sylvain. “You’re joking, right? I’m not losing to a music major.”

Ingrid clicked her tongue as she finished cutting up the last of the strawberries. She scooped them up and dropped them into the blender. “You seem plenty happy to lose to Annette whenever she’s over,” she teased.

Felix went red and scowled. He saved his game and quit to the main menu before shutting the console off. He jumped up and walked into the kitchen. “How can I help?”

Ingrid grabbed the lemonade bottle and poured a healthy amount into the blender. “Can you grab me the ice cubes from the freezer?”

Felix immediately opened the freezer. Ingrid turned to glare at Sylvain who was still lounging on the couch, though now he was scrolling on his phone. He glanced at her when he realized she was staring at him and just batted his eyes at her innocently.

“Are you going to help?”

“And get stuck doing all the dishes like I always do anyway? No,” he replied cheerfully.

Ingrid wanted to berate him, but he had a point. Sylvain almost always ended up doing the dishes. He was the worst cook of the three of them, so that meant he was almost always relegated to dish-duty after meals. When alcohol was involved, he ended up doing the dishes purely because he had the highest tolerance and was the most adept and practiced at managing his hangovers.

She picked up the vodka bottle and reached around Felix for their liquor cupboard. Felix glanced at her oddly, but placed the ice cube tray next to the blender and backed out of her way. He leaned against the counter and folded his arms.

“What are you doing?”

Ingrid grabbed the metal cup from the cabinet and waved it at him. “I need this."

Sylvain laughed. “Ah, Ingrid, always the responsible one, using the jigger to measure our alcohol intake.”

Ingrid was screwing off the lid of the vodka bottle when he spoke. She paused. “The what?” she questioned.

Sylvain blinked. “The jigger.” He gestured to the shot-measuring cup she was holding.

“Why the fuck do you know what that thing is called?” Felix asked, staring at Sylvain.

Sylvain raised an eyebrow. “Because we own one? And we drink a lot?”

Ingrid laughed out loud, almost spilling vodka on the counter. “Sylvain, I’m pretty sure only bartenders who are either super hipster and sell you the most expensive shit on the menu or the ones who work high-class events know what these things are called. As far as I’m concerned it’s a shot-measurer.”

Sylvain’s ears reddened. “It’s not that strange of a thing to know!” he argued.

The doorbell rang, saving Sylvain from more teasing and Felix slipped out of the kitchen and down the hall to open the door. Ingrid focused back on the task at hand, measuring a full shot of vodka and adding it to the blender. She dumped a handful of ice cubes in and then measured another shot.

Sylvain hopped up from the couch and leaned on the counter across from her, watching her as she mixed their drinks for the night. “Please tell me you’re adding more than two shots to that thing. Dimitri is coming.”

Ingrid paused and stared at him. “It’s not Dimitri I’m worried about.”

Sylvain held his hands up innocently. “Don’t blame a guy for his alcohol tolerance.”

“You started drinking when you were like 14."

“I had a good high school experience.”

“Sylvain.”

“Ingrid,” he parroted teasingly.

He leaned forward until there was only about an inch between their faces and every muscle in Ingrid’s body tensed. She was saved from having to react when Felix and Dimitri re-entered the kitchen. Sylvain leaned back and she went back to measuring vodka to add to the drink mix.

“Why do you know what a jigger is called?” Dimitri asked Sylvain, completely bypassing any greeting.

Sylvain smacked his forehead. “Is it really that weird?”

“Yes,” Ingrid and Felix chorused.

“I mean, I knew what it was called,” Dimitri admitted. “But that’s because there was a very chatty bartender at an event I went to last summer.”

Sylvain and Ingrid exchanged a look. A chatty bartender meant a flirty bartender and Dimitri, in his glorious and typical Dimitri fashion, had not even noticed a thing was strange about her behaviour, chalking it up to the woman being “friendly”.

“Anyway,” Sylvain cleared his throat. “I see you have brought food to rescue us from Ingrid’s inevitable wrath.”

Ingrid was almost offended, but then her stomach growled and she could only drop her gaze back to the blender and hope that she wasn’t flushing. She dumped a few more ice cubes in and slapped the lid on, holding the blend button as the grinding sound quickly drowned out her embarrassment.

Dimitri dropped the pizza box on the counter and Felix immediately went to pull out plates. Sylvain strode into the kitchen and it was suddenly very overcrowded with her three male friends, Dimitri and Sylvain especially, who had no concept of the fact that they were buff guys who took up much more room than they thought they did.

Ingrid stopped the blender and picked up the pitcher, sloshing the liquid in it a bit. It had changed to a pretty pinkish colour thanks to the strawberries and it smelled both sweet and alcoholic: just how they liked it. She poured it into the four glasses she had out and turned to hand them off.

Felix took the first glass and Sylvain the second. Dimitri took the third and replaced it with a plate that had three slices of pizza on it. Ingrid beamed at him and carried both the plate and her own glass over to the couch where she sat next to Felix in the centre of the couch. Dimitri immediately claimed the armchair and Sylvain lingered in the kitchen to grab the bottle of vodka from the counter.

Felix tasted the drink and wrinkled his nose. “This shit is sweet.”

Ingrid sipped it and was pleasantly surprised by the sweet and fruity taste of it. It tasted almost exactly like the strawberry lemonades she used to get at restaurants as a kid with just the slightest hint of alcohol.

“I think that’s the point,” Dimitri said as he sipped from his own glass. His brow shot up. “Wow, there’s alcohol in this?”

Ingrid hummed in agreement. “Annette gave me the recipe. I wanted to try it out.”

Sylvain plopped down on the couch next to her and placed the vodka bottle and four shot glasses down. “As lovely and boozy as it is, we’re still doing this with shots.”

Felix grumbled. “Just because you don’t have anything to do tomorrow.”

Sylvain grinned. “Your fault for scheduling shit after movie night.”

Felix crossed his arms and glared at Sylvain. “You’re cancelling on us next week so we rescheduled to this week. This is your fault.”

Sylvain shrugged. “Hey, the girl from my gym said she was only free next weekend. I’m not going to miss that opportunity.”

Ingrid’s drink was suddenly less sweet. She placed it on the coffee table and stood up, heading for her room. She grabbed the hat from her dresser and walked back into the living room. She placed it on the corner of the TV and balanced it so it wouldn’t fall off.

Felix grabbed the remote from the table. “I can’t believe we’re watching this movie again.”

Ingrid sat down between Felix and Sylvain and picked up her drink again, grinning. “It was my turn to pick and we watched Dimitri’s choice last time. Besides, this one works great with the hat game.”

Sylvain tapped his glass against hers. “Not that we don’t appreciate the artistry of The King’s Speech, Dimitri, but Ingrid is definitely correct on this one. Die Hard is a true pinnacle of cinema.”

Felix rolled his eyes but queued the movie. “No chickening out on these rules.”

Ingrid laughed. “Yeah, yeah we know. Every time someone wears the hat you take a sip and every time they have a line while wearing it we do a shot. We have done this before.”

Dimitri slouched in his chair. “I always lose these things immediately.”

Sylvain threw an arm over Ingrid’s shoulder and smirked at Dimitri. “That’s because you care more about the film than the actual drinking. We’d get the same reaction from Ingrid if we were watching the Great British Bake Off or Chopped.”

Ingrid elbowed him but didn’t shove his arm off. She was already a little warm in her stomach and she took a bite of her pizza. She was hungry and they were about to drink a whole lot more, so she needed to have food to balance the copious amounts of alcohol.

“Are we still doing the Sylvain rule?” Dimitri asked as the studio logo took over the screen as the movie started.

“Obviously,” Ingrid snorted. “Anything stupid or romantic he’d do means the last one to shout “Sylvain” takes a shot. That’s a given for whatever film we’re watching.”

“Everyone shut up,” Felix grouched as the film started.

Ingrid was warm. She was warm and her arm was numb and her eyes were sticky. She shifted the arm that wasn’t numb and brought her hand up to rub her face. She pried her eyes open and got an eyeful of grey t-shirt.

She blinked and twisted, realizing that she was definitely not in her bed. She tried to sit up, but she couldn’t move her left arm, the numb one, at all. It was thoroughly pinned between her very fit roommate and the couch that they had fallen asleep together on. Plus, his arm was tightly wrapped around her waist like a steel band, keeping her pinned against him. Her head had been resting against the top of his chest over his shoulder and under his chin.

Sylvain didn’t stir as Ingrid twisted, still passed out cold. Ingrid managed to carefully extract her arm and pry Sylvain’s arm off of her. She had a horrid crick in her neck that made her scowl as she disentangled their legs. She sat on the very edge of the couch and looked around the living room.

Sylvain was, naturally, passed out on the couch where they had been unintentionally cuddling. Dimitri was asleep in the armchair, head awkwardly bent forward against his shoulder. Felix was nowhere to be seen. Ingrid turned and looked behind her into the kitchen and saw her other roommate standing in the kitchen, sipping from a coffee mug with an amused look on his face.

She rolled her eyes and stood up, walking towards him. She dropped her voice low so that she didn’t wake Dimitri or Sylvain. “When did you get up?”

“About fifteen minutes ago,” Felix whispered back. “Unlike you idiots, I did actually make it to my bed last night.”

Ingrid’s cheeks warmed and she glanced at the back of the couch where Sylvain was still sleeping. “We just fell asleep?”

He shrugged. “We were talking after the movie and you started wrestling with him. Dimitri was already out so I just went to bed. I guess you guys fell asleep after that.”

It wasn’t unusual for them to fall asleep after movie night and it certainly wasn’t the first time that she’d woken up cuddled to one of her friends. The best was still the time that Dimitri and Sylvain had fallen asleep together and she and Felix had taken many, many photos.

“Did he get his contacts out?” she asked, gesturing to the couch.

Felix shrugged. “I doubt it. It’ll be his problem today.”

Ingrid’s nose wrinkled. She felt sympathetic, but not overly remorseful. Sylvain had bitched about how much he hated sleeping with his contacts in before, but he continued to forget to take them out so it really was his problem.

“How much did we drink?”

Felix nodded to the vodka bottle by the sink. It was empty. Ingrid slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle a startled laugh.

“Oh,” she replied dumbly.

Felix sipped his coffee again and shrugged. “Pretty on brand, honestly.”

#the writing section #sylvgrid #sylgrid #roommates au #r: t #sylvain jose gautier #ingrid brandl galatea #felix hugo fraldarius #dimitri alexandre blaidd #c: sylvain jose gautier #c: ingrid brandl galatea #c: felix hugo fraldarius #c: dimitri #words: 2.3k+#fe3h #fire emblem three houses #f: fire emblem #ship: sylvgrid #nicolewrites

12 notes · View notes

cedomasoon · 4 years

Text

Chapter 4: The end

-Hey, what the fuck man? Where have you been? I've been calling and callling and calling, texting, asking mom. What is going on?

-Sweetie, I know. Hi.

-That's it?

-What is?

-What happened honey? Is everything alright?

-Now it is. I am sorry I haven't called and all. I just couldn't.

-Ok. Your riddles are poor and I need more information about the situation.

-Yes sure, but, how are you? What is up with your life? It's been a while.

-You bet it's been. It's almost two months!

-Has it been so long?

-Yeah, it has been so long. Last time we talked was on my birthday.

-Shit, time really flies.

-When you are having a good time?

-Not really.

-You sound dark and all this silence is scaring me. Are you sick? Mom kept telling me you are alright but busy.

-I am alright and I am busy. Work has been insane.

-Did you start the new gig already?

-Oh, Yes I have actually.

-And?

-It's really interesting, I learn a lot and the people I am working with are kind and patient and with a sense of humour.

-Well, finally some good news. I like what I am hearing.

-And you? What are you doing these days?

-You listen to your self? I feel like I am talking to a distant aunt.

-Oh well, stop bugging me.

-Ok, you are right. Work is good. Two new projects, really interesting actually. A lot of rehearsals but I manage. A bit of drama with the collegues as per usual, but nothing out of the ordinary.

-And Paul? Still together?

-You think I would break up with Paul and you would have remained under the radar?

-That's true. But are you getting along liebe schwester?

-Oh yeah. We had our ups and downs lately, but I love this bastard. He is so cute and he loves me. He geniounly does, it's juts the cultural diferences that make our relationship a bit tricky sometimes. But then I think of this and I start re approaching the whole issue and then the issue is gone. We don't have to agree on everything you know. It doesn't matter. We are young, we are in love, the rest is just noise in our affair's quietude.

-How poetic. Have you been writing lately?

-Yes. I have actually. It's a pretty good time for me, creatively I mean. I work a lot during the day, but for now I have established an early morning for my self and I have incorporated an hour of writing every day. It's going great I would say.

-This is so promising. I can't wait to hear what you got.

-Well, maybe skype with me next week. If you have some time for your baby sister.

-Oh, come on. Don't be a child.

-I am sorry for the noise, I just really need to shave while we talk, or else I am going to be late.

-Don't mention it. Where do you have to be so early?

-Early cconcert down town. I am so borred, pus I am obulating and I am so bloated. What am I supposed to wear with this belly that is going wild?

-You can wear the black high waste trousairs I gave you.

-That's true. You know I am doing this diet I told and I think it's working. I've lost a couple of kilos and some centimeters in the god forsaken area of my pork belly.

-Oh, nice, I started doing this as well. I think it's really good to tell you rthe truth. I feel the body is working better and I feel quite energetic and definitely not bloated.

-It's working. So, black high waist Makis Tselios and...

-See through black turtle neck.

-You think? It's only 17:00 here, maybe a bit too dramatic? I was thinking more of an oversized beige shirt.

-Well that works too.

-I will also wear the earings dad gave me and put my hair up, maybe a low bun?

-Sounds terrific. Send me a pic?

-Sure, when I am dressed. And?

-And what?

-And you? You keep telling me all is fine, but you don't disappear on me like that. Unless something big happened. So, what happened?

-Well... Remember Dimitris?

-Sure, the guy you met on vacation.

-Yes.

-Aha...

-Well we had been seeing each other for some time. You know since the summer. Lovely guy. We had such a great time.

-I hear a lot of past tense.

-Well, it's because we did have a great time for a few months. Totally in love with him. He as well.

-I remember.

-Yes. I got pregnant. Now you say nothing?

-I really don't know what to say. When was this?

-Hmm, two months ago? Maybe a bit more. But yes. I got pregnant almost three months ago.

-For real?

-Yeap. Went to the doctor and all, had a sonogram. Did the tests. As pregnant as it gets.

-Jesus man. Did you have an abortion? Oh baby girl. This is so shitty.

-Actually no, I didn't have an abortion.

-What?

-Cool it sis! It felt right. Dimitris was super excited. Me too to tell you the truth.

-Does mom know? What did Fenia say?

-Mom doesn't know. Fenia was not happy.

-What is up with the past tense?

-I had twins.

-Oh, man.

-I lost the babies a week ago.

-Oh darling. Oh, shit. Damn. I don't know what to say.

-Don't say anything.

-I am so sorry! How are you?

-I am fully recovered. I got scared a lot. I was in pain and bleeding and I had to go to the hospital by myself.

-God damn. Where the fuck was Dimitris?

-By the time I got him on the phone, I was already in the taxi.

-He came to the hospital at least?

-Yes, he made it. He was there when I woke up after the surgery.

-What a fucking shitstorm.

-Yeah.

-How do you feel?

-Very sad.

-I can't believe you were ready to have a family.

-I can't believe it either. And I can't believe it's over. It felt so good being pregnant.

-Oh sweetie! Don't cry. It's ok. You are young. You are only 29, it's not the end of the world. Besides were you ready to have a family?

-Oh, I don't know? It felt right.

-Sure and if it's right you'll get pregnant again one day. Soon.

-I don't know. I don't even know. I don't think I can.

-What do you mean? Did anything happen? Is there something wrong?

-I don't think so.

-You don't think so, or you know?

-I mean the doctor didn't say anything was wrong, but I am so scared and so sad. An it was all so organic.

-Baby it's not cotton. Take a chill pill. I get you are sad, but sometimes sad things happen.

-I know.

-Oh poor baby. Is Dimitris with you?

-No. He's working like crazy and he aksed me for some time to process.

-Jesus. You are all alone? Fenia?

-She came yesterday. But she is working too.

-Are you working?

-No, but I think it doesn't help me at all.

-You are right. Are you physically ready to return?

-I think so.

-Perfect. Arbeit macht frei.

-That is so bad.

-But in your case it's true.

-Touche.

-Did you get my picture?

-Haha, yes. You look amazing.

-You think?

-Yeah, you look sublime.

-You are the best. I am in shock, but I really have to go if I don't want to be late for soundcheck. Are you going to be alright?

-Yes. Don't worry. I got this. It's just all a bit too much.

-I get it. But I am sure it was for the best. Maybe in a bit you are going to be carrying just one child.

-Too soon. I love you. I am sorry I had been lost.

-Don't think about it. I love you too. Be safe and I will call you tonight.

-Break a leg sis. You are the best

#mariaflip #mariaflipingout #caroline #shortstory #sisterhood #dialogue #abortion #love

2 notes · View notes

tsunnychan · 4 years

Text

best laid plans: lay them to rest

I WAS SO TIRED YESTERDAY EVENING I FORGOT TO POST THIS ON SYLVAIN’S ACTUAL BIRTHDAY OVER HERE... BUT I UPLOADED IT ON TIME OVER AT AO3

ANYWAY: series finale of my long-winded sylvgrid modern au

enjoy!!

Ingrid tugs at the hem of the white dress nervously, grimacing at the way it shifts the sweetheart neckline even lower. She looks back in the mirror and blushes at the way her collarbone and shoulders are completely bared.

She bites her lip and shifts side to side, casting shadows along the wrapped bodice, skirt fluttering mid-thigh. It’s not that she doesn’t like the way she looks in the dress… it’s just, not her.

Even though she isn’t showing that much skin, considering the puff sleeves that end at her wrists, it still feels odd. To have nothing covering her from her neck to… just under her shoulders. Ingrid fumbles with the dress again before sighing, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. “Dorothea, are you… are you sure about this? It feels…” She struggles with her words. “Too much.”

“Show me!” A swift knock sounds on her dressing room door and Ingrid cracks it open, Dorothea pushing her way through. A soft gasp escapes her friend’s lips. “Oh, Ingrid…”

Ingrid nervously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s too much, isn’t it? I know I said I wanted to dress up because it’s a special occasion, yes, but doesn’t this seem—Dorothea!” She squeaks in surprise as Dorothea quickly moves behind her and shifts the neckline, to her mortification, even lower. Her hands automatically fly up to cover her chest, but Dorothea immediately shoos them away.

She’s blushing to her toes as her friend adjusts the sleeves on her shoulders to show more skin and straightens out the skirt of the dress. Dorothea clicks her tongue in satisfaction and Ingrid’s eyes hesitantly meet hers in the mirror. Dorothea smiles softly, hands turning her fully toward her reflection again and brushing some of her hair over an exposed shoulder. “You look lovely, Ingrid.”

Ingrid fidgets with her sleeves and looks at herself once more, butterflies in her stomach, thinking about why she asked Dorothea to go shopping in the first place. “I—”

“See? You can dress up for a special occasion and attract someone at the same time.”

“I don’t need to attract anyone! This is just for his—”

“He won’t be able to keep his eyes off you,” Dorothea sings, the curve of her mouth growing wicked, hands now re-tying the sash at her waist, fingers deftly knotting a neat bow. “You’re like a little present, waiting for him to unwrap—”

She hurriedly pushes her laughing friend out of the dressing room, cheeks flaming, heart pounding in her chest.

“Don’t forget to wear the necklace he bought for you! That’ll really get him going—”

“Dorothea, enough!”

Feeling lightheaded, she braces her hands against the door and takes a moment to just breathe, closing her eyes and willing her mind to stop racing. Ingrid takes one last look in the mirror and exhales shakily. She does like the dress…

And now she’s nervous if Sylvain will like it too.

…And what she’ll do if he does.

1 week later…

“Ingrid! I’m so sorry I’m late, one of the meetings ran over and I—”

Sylvain had just slid into his seat across from Ingrid, still out of breath from running, when his throat closes at the sight of her, making it significantly harder for him to catch his breath.

Ingrid looks up from her phone and smiles, something small and pretty and just for him, the jade pendant he bought for her in Sreng for Christmas dangling around her neck, reflecting the blue light of her phone. “It’s okay. It’s your birthday dinner, Sylvain. Not mine.”

She reaches her arms up and sweeps all her hair over one shoulder, the other now completely exposed and bare. Sylvain thinks his heart stops.

Head spinning, he clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Still, I shouldn’t keep you waiting. Especially when Felix and Dimitri couldn’t make it today either.”

Ingrid blushes curiously at the mention of their best friends, eyes dropping to study something on the tablecloth, and he feels his heart restart erratically. “A-anyway, thanks for coming out, Ingrid. I know it’s busy for you guys, at the start of your internships and everything.”

Her gaze returns to him and Sylvain is trying his hardest to keep his eyes on her face, and not the expanse of skin below her collarbone. He’s maybe two seconds away from throwing his jacket over her shoulders to cover her up because his eyes might not be drifting, but that table two rows down doesn’t seem to have manners and he makes a mental note to send Dorothea a scathing text later, because he just knows this is her doing—

“Of course, Sylvain. It’s your birthday. You celebrated mine with me when no one else could. The least I could do is return the favor.”

At her words, Sylvain feels a tiny prick of disappointment in his chest but smiles anyway. “Well, let’s order some food then. I’m sure you’re hungry, waiting for me. Anything you want, Ingrid. It’s on me.”

Her lips quirk down, brow creasing. “Sylvain, this dinner is for you, you don’t have to pay for me.”

He shakes his head adamantly, remembering her frustrated tears from the Christmas party two years ago over her family's financial and health struggles, and the confusion on her face when he showed up on her doorstep just hours before her birthday. “You’re spending all this time with me on my birthday, Ingrid. It means a lot to me, really. Just let me pay for you.”

He sees her open her mouth to insist otherwise, but he cuts her off, already flipping the menu open to look for the restaurant’s highest quality meats. “Consider it your present to me. For my birthday.”

Sylvain hears her splutter and he whips his head up, worry spiking through him. “Ingrid? You okay?”

Ingrid quickly grabs her glass of water and takes several large gulps, the previous blush on her face spreading down her neck. Sylvain pointedly keeps his eyes trained on her face, and not on the way her dress shifts with her arms—

After a few more sips, Ingrid sets her glass down and exhales as evenly as she can. “Y-yes, I’m fine. But Sylvain, really, you don’t need to pay—”

He reaches over the table and covers one of her clenched fists. “Ingrid, I want to do this. Let me do this for you, please?”

Her fingers twitch against his palm and she lets out a breath he didn’t realize she was holding in. Ingrid finally meets his eyes again, the low light of the restaurant softening her features, and Sylvain is sharply taken back again, to that New Year’s party at Dimitri’s when she leaned heavily onto his shoulder, the smell of her overwhelming his senses, as she laced her fingers with his and told him she was glad he was home.

His heart had beat painfully in his chest in the weeks that came after, especially when she curled up against him on her birthday, as he carried her back to her bed from her spot on the floor, where he’s sure she caught him baking her a birthday cake in the early hours of the morning. And again, when she patched him up after that unfortunate bar fight last month, that almost led him to spill all of his secrets, just so she would stay close to him.

For a little while longer.

The pain doesn’t get any easier, he thinks bitterly, as the knot in his chest twists again when Ingrid nods silently and pulls her hand from underneath his and into her lap. Withdrawing his own hand, Sylvain busies himself with handing the menu over to her, pages already flipped open to the restaurant’s selection of steaks.

The throbbing ache in his heart recedes, just a little, when the familiar twinkle returns to Ingrid’s eyes as she flips through the different options available. His eyes drift to the pendant resting against the hollow of her throat, and he wonders if he should crush the hope that festers in his chest.

Before it crushes him.

With the last piece of meat safely tucked away in her mouth, Ingrid leans back from the table with a content sigh. Her stomach had lurched uncomfortably when Sylvain first offered to pay, her skin tingling where his hand covered hers…

But he’d looked so genuine and earnest, the words she was about to fight him with died on her lips. Instead, she retreated a bit back into herself, and withdrew her hand from under his, to hold onto the little bit of pride she allowed herself to have.

Then, the menu was shoved to her hands, pages flipped to the steaks, and Ingrid couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto her face. It was his birthday, but he’s treating her to her favorites. She shook her head slightly and looked up to find him distracted by something over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed.

Four years ago, she might’ve admonished him for making eyes at strangers while she was with him, but his gaze flicked back to her and his forehead smoothed out, grin back on his face. “Did you pick something?”

When she looks at him now, he’s got this fond, amused twitch of his lips that Ingrid just knows what’s coming next. “What?”

He laughs and moves the last few pieces of his meal onto her plate, eyes twinkling. “It’s weirdly soothing watching you just shovel it right in there. What’s with the appetite today?”

Even though she expected the quip, Ingrid still feels herself flush. “I can’t help it, okay? You were 30 minutes late and I had an early lunch…”

Sylvain’s grin grows wider as she forks the rest of his food into her mouth, despite her embarrassment. “I should take you to Sreng with me, go on a gourmet journey around the country.”

Ingrid’s heart throbs at the softness on his face. Setting her fork down, she leans her elbows on the table. “That sounds like fun.”

Surprise takes over, as if he just registered what he said out loud. “You’d come to Sreng with me?”

Her mouth moves faster than her she can catch it. “I’d go anywhere with you.”

The two of them freeze, and Ingrid is pretty sure there’s steam coming out of her ears. She stammers, “I-I mean, you know you can’t get along without me following in your shadow and caring for you.”

The line of his shoulders stiffens briefly before they take on a measured laxity that Ingrid has seen hundreds of times before, whenever he’s keeping something from her. “Hey now, I thought I did pretty well for myself after college.”

His eyes are just a little bit duller than before, a wry smile in place of the small one that warms her entire body. She shakes her head and sighs. “You did. I know. I’m sorry, just… habit.”

Ingrid looks at him and some of that dullness fades, the softness coming back. “No, you’re right. I’ve been thinking about it, and I really depend on you. Maybe that’s weird since I’m older than you, but still…”

A pleasant buzzing settles over the surface of her skin, her heart jumping into her throat. Silence falls between them and Ingrid fidgets in her seat, unable to find the words she wants to say, nor the courage it takes to say them.

Then, a server brushes past her and Ingrid sends a quick thank you to the goddess for the distraction. “Excuse me, does your dessert menu have any cakes?”

She hears Sylvain snort across from her, but she pointedly ignores him. “It’s my…” her voice catches briefly, trying to describe her relationship with Sylvain, before she pushes through, “it’s my best friend’s birthday today. He might not care about it, but I do.”

The server looks between the two of them, studying the sudden shift at the table. “Of course. Happy birthday, sir. I’ll bring something out in a moment, miss.”

As he leaves, Ingrid sighs and leans back in her seat, feeling that awkwardness return now that it was just the two of them again, and Sylvain has a strange look on his face. The one she can’t read. It makes her stomach flop uneasily. Before she can press him about it, the server returns with a small plate and spoon, a piece of yellow cake topped with fresh cream and berries, and a scoop of ice cream on the side. There was even a candle, flame flickering as it was set down on the table.

Ingrid smiles. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome, miss. Happy birthday again, sir. Enjoy your evening.”

Even after the server has left, Sylvain still hasn’t moved a muscle, that expression hasn’t budged either. Ingrid raises an eyebrow. “Well?” She gestures to the plate with her chin. “Make a wish. The wax is starting to drip.”

He blinks at her, and then at the cake in front him, like he didn’t even realize it was there. A few more blinks later, Ingrid is about to reach over and snap her fingers in front of his face to wake him up, when he closes his eyes and blows out the candle.

Sylvain’s eyes open and stare directly into hers, and she’s struck by the gold in them. Again. She clears her throat. “What did you wish for?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and a different emotion flashes across his face before it’s gone, his teasing voice replacing it. “I can’t tell you that. It won’t come true if I do.”

She rolls her eyes and plucks the candle out of the cake, setting it to the side. “Whatever you say.”

Ingrid picks up the spoon and carves out a piece of cake, loading it with strawberries, when Sylvain laughs abruptly. “Swiping all the good bits for yourself, huh? Isn’t the birthday boy supposed to take the first bite?”

She scoffs, “I’ve told you before, I don’t resort to thievery when it comes to food.”

She continues filling the spoon and tops it off with a little bit of ice cream, and then lifts it to his face, meeting his widening eyes. She bites a back a smile. “Well come on, birthday boy. Take your first bite.”

Ingrid shakes the spoon a little when he doesn’t move. “Don’t make me wait forever.”

Sylvain’s eyes dart from her to the spoon and back to her, the redness spreading across his cheeks making her skin tingle. Then without further preamble, he holds her gaze and leans forward, mouth closing around the cake she scooped for him. Heat shoots down her spine as he continues to look at her, spoon between his lips.

Inhaling sharply, Ingrid withdraws quickly and busies herself with scooping up several pieces of cake and shoving it into her mouth in rapid succession, blatantly pushing aside the thought that it was in his mouth two seconds ago—

Sylvain laughs and her eyes flash to his. Her favorite small smile is back, and her heart skips a beat. “What, you aren’t going to feed me again?”

Ingrid feels a blush climb up her neck. “Was that your wish?”

He laughs again and shakes his head, that smile still there. “Not quite.” Then he winks at her. “Maybe a close second.”

She almost chucks the spoon at him, but that gold in his eyes gleams so brightly… maybe her embarrassment is worth it. Ingrid spoons up some more ice cream and cake and holds it out for him. “A close second it is then.”

He doesn’t hesitate this time, leaning forward again and eating the cake she offers him. Her legs squeeze together under the table and her dress feels tight as he licks his lips, eyes playful and teasing. She gulps. “Happy birthday, Sylvain.”

He smiles at her as she hurriedly sticks another piece of cake in her mouth. “Thanks, Ingrid.”

They continue trading off bites of the dessert, a comfortable silence settling around them as they finish off the cake. The server comes and goes, taking the empty plate and Sylvain’s card with him. That slight pang of discomfort comes back as she watches him sign the bill, but it’s quickly taken over by a tightening coil in her chest when Sylvain looks up at her and smiles again. “Ready to go?”

Blood rushing to her face, she stands abruptly and stumbles as her knee knocks against the table. Sylvain shoots out of his chair and steadies her. “You okay?”

Her knee throbs, but it still doesn’t distract her from the heat of his palms at her elbow and lower back. “I’m fine. I forgot I was wearing heels.”

Ingrid reaches down to rub at her bruised knee, when her vision is suddenly obscured by something dark and warm. Arms flying up, her hands fumble until they find the edge of the fabric and she lifts her head from underneath it. Sylvain’s jacket. Her eyes find him looking off to the side, ears red, one hand covering his mouth. She stares at him questioningly when he refuses to meet her gaze.

She shifts the jacket on her shoulders, glad for the warmth because she was getting cold… but Sylvain is still pointedly looking everywhere but her. She nudges him and he jumps. “Sylvain?”

His hand falls from his face and he shoves it quickly into his pocket. “S-sorry. Just, your dress… it’s…” he trails off as his eyes jump from her legs and then back to a spot over her shoulder, the redness of his face spreading down his neck. “It’s short.”

Ingrid feels her entire body flush, Dorothea's words flashing in her mind, he won’t be able to keep his eyes off you, but also, annoyance. “What’s that supposed to mean—”

She’s cut off when Sylvain’s arm shoots out and wraps around her waist, pulling her roughly into his side, and starts navigating them quickly out of the restaurant. Tucked securely against him, his warmth seeping into her, Ingrid momentarily forgets why she’s angry at all.

Once they’re outside, Sylvain whips his arm away from her like she’s burned him. “I’m sorry, Ingrid. I didn’t mean to insult you or manhandle you, I just—You look great. Really.”

Despite the evening chill, Ingrid flushes again, Dorothea’s and Sylvain’s words parading through her mind again, you’re like a little present and consider it your present to me, as she watches him run a frantic hand through his hair. “There was this table of two guys a few rows down and I just… I didn’t like the way they were looking at you.”

She stays rooted to where she stands, warmth blooming in her chest at the sheepish smile on his face when he looks at her again. “I wasn’t about to throw punches in an upstanding restaurant after last time, so—”

Without thinking twice, Ingrid strides forward. Before her nerves can get the better of her, she leans up and presses a soft kiss to his cheek, murmuring, “thank you.”

When she leans away, she can practically feel the heat radiating off his face. Or maybe it’s her face? “F-for what?”

She steps back and pulls his jacket tighter around herself. She’s not sure either. She shrugs and looks down, studying her fingernails. Or maybe she’s afraid, too scared to put words to the feelings yet. Without knowing how he feels. What she is to him. So, she ignores his question. “Where to next?”

Sylvain blinks at her, mind still catching up to the burning skin of his cheek. He sees her mouth moving, but he can’t hear her over the blood pounding in his ears.

Ingrid never looked smaller, wrapped in his jacket. His breath stuttered violently when she stood up in the restaurant, the dress high on her thighs, neckline low on her chest. His eyes immediately averted themselves to find that same table from earlier eyeing his best friend with unveiled interest. His arms were shucking off his jacket before he realized it, dropping it over her head as he fought to calm his racing heart and will the blush off his face.

Then, she peeked her head out from his jacket and Sylvain is pretty sure he died for a second, seeing how cute she looked.

A warmth circles around his wrist, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Sylvain?”

His head whips to her, chest tight as she looks at him in concern. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said, how about a sleepover, for old times’ sake?”

If his brain didn’t malfunction before, it certainly did now. As he stares at her, Sylvain wonders if he’s having a fever dream.

It’s not like Ingrid hasn’t slept over before. In fact, she did it all the time back in college on particularly long study nights in the library, his apartment being much closer to campus than hers...

Yet here he was, now a 24 year old man, with a very beautiful best friend he has feelings for but hasn’t done anything about except unsuccessfully deny them, and she’s wearing this white dress that was most definitely designed to kill him and she wants to spend the night with him on his birthday—

“Oh, I don’t have any other clothes though—”

“You can borrow some of mine.”

Sylvain kicks himself and mentally signs his own death certificate in his head. Name of the deceased: Sylvain Jose Gautier. Cause of death: asphyxiation by way of foot in mouth syndrome—

His heart stops when the warmth around his wrist moves to encase his hand. “Okay, let’s go.”

As Ingrid tugs him along toward his apartment, Sylvain starts drafting an excel sheet, estimating the hospital bill he’s going to send Dorothea after tonight is over.

If he makes it through without doing something incredibly, incredibly, stupid.

Ingrid rushes into Sylvain’s apartment as soon as he’s unlocked the door, racing to get out of her heels. Breathing a sigh of relief once they’re off, she bounces over to his couch and flops backward on it, his jacket splaying out beneath her, a content smile on her face. Her belly and heart full after dinner with her best friend. “That was such a good meal, Sylvain. How did you find the restaurant?”

Silence stretches over the apartment and Ingrid looks over to Sylvain, who still stands frozen by the door, that look on his face again. Her heart thumps painfully against her ribs. “Sylvain?”

He blinks, her voice breaking whatever trance he’s in and he shakes his head. He shuts the door behind him and joins her on the couch, lifting her legs into his lap so he can sit. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been… thinking.”

She sits up, her skin burning where his hands rest on her legs. “Is that what the strange look is for?”

His eyes shift to her and her spine tingles. “I just, uh… well, you’re going to think I’m being a jerk or hitting on you or whatever… but when we’re together like this, I feel—I don’t know—oddly at ease.”

The tingling spreads to her fingertips and she forces herself to nod. “I know what you mean. It’s probably because we’ve been friends for so long.”

She almost bites her tongue, with the way a bitterness coats her mouth when the word ‘friends’ leaves her lips. It doesn’t seem… quite right to describe them like that anymore. Or maybe, she just wishes she could describe them as more than that.

His fingers absently trail along her legs as her words settle between them. The pit in her stomach grows deeper and she fidgets under his touch when his palm lies flat on her skin, his voice filled with something she doesn’t dare name. “That must be it.”

Sylvain falls quiet after that and the air shifts around them. Ingrid’s heart pounds harder in her chest and it feels like it’s about to burst if she doesn’t say something, as she looks at him staring at nothing in particular, with her legs thrown over his like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

She swallows against the lump in her throat. Her hands are trembling, but she reaches out and clasps the hand on her legs, squeezing tight. Sylvain’s eyes drift to her and Ingrid feels the air in her lungs rush out of her. The unmasked longing reflected back at her, the kind she sees in her own whenever she looks in the mirror, in the gold that gleams even with just the low light from the streetlamps outside—and all of a sudden, she’s done burying her feelings.

“Sylvain, what am I to you?”

She feels his pulse jump against her skin. She hopes she didn’t imagine it. Her eyes are trained on his as he blinks slowly, studying her. His words come cautiously, his muscles tensing beneath her. “You’re my friend… one of my oldest, in fact.”

Part of her wants to deflate, but the other part prods her to keep going. She inhales shakily and tightens her hold on his hand. “Is… is that all I am?”

He tenses even further under her and Ingrid wonders if she’s pushed him too far. She’s about to swing her legs off him, to give him some space, when his hand flips over and clasps her hand in a vice-like grip. Don’t leave.

“No, it’s not.”

Her heart sputters out.

His hand squeezes hers even tighter as he finds the words to say, and Ingrid finds it awfully hard to breathe. Then, the gold flashes back to her and her chest constricts even further.

“You’re strong, you’re beautiful, you don’t take shit from anyone, least of all me, and you never waver from the path you set from yourself.”

Her mouth dries with denial on her lips. That she has. She has strayed from her path, because she found a new one. One where they can walk together, side by side. But the words are stuck in her throat and Sylvain pushes forward. “You’re always there for me, even when I don’t deserve it. I wake up every day wondering what I’ve done, to have someone like you in my life, looking after me and caring for me when I’ve done nothing but cause you trouble.”

“That’s not true.”

His eyes pierce through her and she gulps. “You’re always there for me. Whenever I need you, you’re there.”

Sylvain smiles weakly, and drops his head onto the couch behind him, staring at the ceiling. “Is it stupid of me to say, in a twisted kind of way, that makes me happy?”

He rolls his head to look at her, eyes blazing. “Is it stupid of me to say I want you to need me? That I need you to want me by your side? You’re more than just my friend to me, Ingrid. More than just my best friend.”

Ingrid’s entire body burns, the way he looks at her, his grip on her hand crushing, but the last thing she wants is to pull away. Then, all the tension leaves his body as he sighs heavily, his hand leaving hers as both of them lift to cover his face. Her hand trembles in her lap, now with nothing to stop the shaking.

After a few more moments in tense silence, his arms come down, and his eyes rise to meet hers again. Open. Resigned. Frightened. And Ingrid feels her heart stop.

“You’re everything to me.”

She exhales unevenly as his finger brushes along her cheek, his smile small, eyes trailing along her face. “You know, my birthday wish was for you to stay with me.” His hand falls away from her and the loss of his warmth makes her head spin.

He laughs without humor, looking away from her. “Now that I’ve said it out loud, it’s probably not going to happen, is it?”

Sylvain moves to stand, her legs slipping out of his lap, and Ingrid launches herself at him, his jacket sliding off her shoulders. He lands back on the couch with a grunt and she’s got him pinned between her and the cushions, her arms stretching over him, caging his head so he has nowhere to look, but up at her.

She’s breathing heavily, and Sylvain remains frozen beneath her, hands hovering in the air by her hips, eyes frantically searching hers. “What are you doing, Ing?”

She doesn’t answer him, too busy trying to calm her racing heart and control her breathing, trying to ignore how the smell of him surrounds her now that she’s so close—

His hands finally settle on her waist, steadying her. His palms sear through the fabric of her dress and her legs tremble as his eyes bore into hers, almost pleading. She doesn’t imagine the wobble in his voice when he whispers, “Ingrid, what am I to you?”

She feels it. Because it’s in her own, as her heart beats wildly in her ears. “What do you want to be to me?”

His fingers dig into her and she almost collapses into him, but she holds his stare, even with her breathing getting shallower and shallower. Sylvain stays quiet, his eyes searching her face. Then, he gulps. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

That last bit of her restraint breaks inside of her and Ingrid rushes forward, sealing her lips against his. Her hands cup his face as she leans into him and she feels him exhale sharply against her. Then, one of his arms winds around her, crushing her to him, as his other hand slides up her back, pressing her even closer.

His mouth moves with hers slowly, reverently, like he can’t quite believe this is happening. Ingrid’s hands slip into his hair as he takes her lower lip between his, nibbling gently. Her entire body burns and burns as his hand moves from her back to the nape of her neck, the other fisting in her dress at her hip. She pulls away with a gasp, resting her forehead against his as her lungs refill with air.

She takes solace in how Sylvain is just as out of breath as she is, if not more, with his chest heaving against hers, flush high on his face. Ingrid leans in again, pressing her lips firmly to his before withdrawing, staring him straight in the eyes. “Then be my everything.”

Sylvain stares back at her, gold glittering in his eyes, and then he’s drawing her back in, and Ingrid surrenders to him willingly. His hands are in her hair, on her back, her shoulders, everywhere. His lips attaching themselves to her neck, right next to the necklace he got for her. She gasps when he sits her in his lap fully, her dress riding up high on her thighs as his hands glide along the newly uncovered skin. She can’t help the moan that escapes her throat as he licks into her mouth, fingers dancing along the hem of her dress. Ingrid whimpers when he breaks away, his forehead finding a home against her bared collarbone, his hot breath washing over her skin. His fingers rub tiny circles on her outer legs, and she shifts on top of him, electricity shooting down her spine when he groans, hands flying to her hips to still her.

She feels a puff of air against her chest as he starts to laugh against her. She looks down, finding him gazing up at her, eyes dark, a new smile on his face.

Ingrid’s heart flutters and she thinks she’s found a new favorite. One that she wants to see every day. She leans down to press another kiss to his mouth, lips brushing against his. “I love you, Sylvain. I want you by my side. Always.”

His hands squeeze her thighs and they reflexively tighten around his hips. He groans again and lets his head fall back against her chest, nuzzling into her neck. “I don’t know if I should thank Dorothea… or kill her for this dress.”

Ingrid snorts and smiles, her hands threading through his hair as he breathes against her. “How did you know it was Dorothea?”

His fingers blaze along the hem of her dress and he presses a kiss to her bared shoulder, her collarbone, and to her embarrassment, the lowest dip of her neckline. His eyes flash to hers and he scoffs, “I always know when it’s Dorothea.”

Her entire body tingles as he leans back and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, eyes bright and honest. Sincere. “I love you too, Ingrid.”

Cheeks warming, she turns her head and presses a kiss into his palm. Delighting in the blush that spreads across his face, she sidles herself closer and whispers in his ear, “You know, when Dorothea picked this dress out for me, she said I looked like a little present, waiting for you to unwrap—”

Ingrid squeals when Sylvain stands abruptly, his hands moving to the underside of her thighs as he marches them to his bedroom, growling into her lips, “you can’t just say things like that to me, Ing.”

He kicks his door shut and presses her up against the wall. “You’re ruining all my plans to be a gentleman.”

Her legs squeeze his waist when she reaches up to kiss him again, fingers tangling in his hair as he groans into her lips. “You know what they say about best laid plans, Sylvain.”

She tugs his head back and kisses the tip of his nose, smiling.

“Lay them to rest.”

Dorothea wakes to two different text messages that make her smile for two very different reasons.

Ingrid: thank you thea

She types a swift message back, tacking on several kissing emojis. Of course, Ingie! I’m happy to go shopping with you anytime. I love decorating gifts.

Her phone buzzes with a response.

Ingrid: we didn’t do anything!! Stop that!

She sends a winking emoji and taps open her other message. Her smile deepens.

Sylvain: what did I tell you last time dorothea…

Her mind flickers back to the clubbing outfit she chose for Ingrid a month ago, for her graduation party when Sylvain decked a guy across the face. She smiles fondly at the memory.

She types quickly. I don’t hear any complaints.

And then. In fact, I can’t hear anything over your raging BONER.

His response pops up so quickly, she wonders if the two of them are texting right next to each other.

Sylvain: B L O C K E D

Dorothea laughs as she sees ‘this user has blocked you. you can no longer message this user’ appear and disappear just as rapidly.

Sylvain: I hate you

The automated message appears and disappears again.

Sylvain: …thank you

Dorothea is practically vibrating with glee.

Dorothea: of course, loverboy! You know my fees.

Sylvain: i’m sending my hospital bill instead, thanks

Dorothea: aww, Ingie can’t kiss it better?

Sylvain: iawefashflkjash

Dorothea laughs loudly, her heart full for her two friends, who have been dancing around each other for years.

She types out another message. Because she can.

Dorothea: it’s ok sweetie, I’m sure she’ll give you a ring someday too. Then we can match <3.

‘this user has blocked you. you can no longer message this user’

Dorothea smiles again and sets her phone back down.

She has a wedding to plan.

#sylvgrid #sylgrid #sylvain jose gautier #ingrid brandl galatea #fe3h #fire emblem: three houses #sylvgrid week 2020 #my writing

2 notes · View notes

theeeveetamer · 5 years

Note

You know looking back, with this whole "blue lions taking care of their own" hc, the part about Felix suddenly going completely silent during heats stands out all the more. Sylvain is likely used to Felix at least making the normal amount of noise for an omega while carrying him to the heat room. But when he just goes silent by the time war-phase rolls around, it'd be pretty alarming?? Wtf happened that makes him lock up way more than he used to?? He'd worry that something terrible (1/2)

(2/2) had happened, and while the answer is still distressing, it’s at least not the worst case scenario Sylvain had been fearing. Also I imagine the blue lions would want to keep looking out for each other during war phase, so they’d all notice (although I imagine all of their behaviour would be slightly different. Not even going into what trying to care for feral Dimitri in heat is like)

I swear I get an anon message at 3 am every single day and I want to say that I love and appreciate you, 3 am anon(s)!

And oh god I didn’t even consider that. This just got a little angsty again, yesss! Well, I think their first order of business would be to stop using the creepy dungeon heat rooms that the church set up.

After the assault on Garreg Mach their pack splits up and goes home to their families to help defend their territories, which is the first big blow to Felix (he finally trusted people to help him with his heats and now he’s kind of been abandoned). I think he’d generally try to avoid having his heats when he’s at home (partly because he’d force everyone to drop everything and care for him, partly because he thinks it’s a waste of time to travel home every three months instead of staying on the front lines).

There’s heat houses but he doesn’t want any random Alpha. I mean, there’s a reason he needs to have something of Sylvain’s with him for his nest. So he goes out to battle, fights right up until he’s on the cusp of heat, and then holes up wherever he ends up. And he learns to be quiet.

Then they all meet back up at the monastery (and even Felix is Warm and Fuzzy about being reunited with his pack), but when he goes into heat they’re all. So concerned. I mean, obvious assumption is that it’s some trauma (perhaps an Alpha found him when he was most vulnerable?), and so no one wants to ask. They’re all extra nice to him whenever his heat rolls around. Whenever it’s over Sylvain sits with him and takes care of him while he’s regaining his strength, and tries his best not to be around while Felix is actually in heat. Mostly because he’s afraid he’ll snap and lose control and re-traumatize Felix.

Felix finally has to explain it to him so he’ll stop being such a dope and finally get the fuck in his nest with him so they can mate (they’ve been dancing around it for years damn it, and he’s impatient). Sylvain is relieved that it’s not worse, but it’s still a massive punch to the gut to learn that Felix had to go through so many heats completely by himself (he should have been there. He should have been keeping him safe.)

AS FOR FERAL DIMITRI I have some headcanons for this so strap in.

He doesn’t nest when he’s feral. If he does then it’s haphazardly thrown together and not at all his best work. He does, however, cling to Dedue’s earring. He had a heat shortly before the whole Flame Emperor thing went down, and he was so distracted by, well, everything after that so he just… Forgot to give it back. Dedue never asks for it, either, because Dimitri is going through so much that if the earring gives him some small comfort he’ll willingly let him have it (the real reason he doesn’t wear it anymore after the time skip?)

Without fail that earring always makes it’s way into his nest. Every single heat. Every. Single. Time. It’s the only thing he has left of the man he loves, after all. If he doesn’t have it on hand then he panics. He once snapped a pickpocket’s neck because they just saw a shiny charm and tried to steal it from him.

Before Dedue returns to the pack they have to utilize Sylvain and Annette. They’ll shove food and water into the room and one of the Alphas will command him to eat/drink through the door using their Alpha Voice. It’s really kind of cruel, since Alpha Voice does very bad things to Omegas with jacked up hormones, but Dimitri scares them so much when he’s in heat. They’re not sure how he survived for so long because he literally will refuse all food and water unless he’s forced. Once Dedue comes back he resumes his caretaker duties (well… He’s a little bit more than just a caretaker at that point but you get what I mean).

#sylvix #dimidue #omegaverse #abo #headcanons #packs taking care of each other #literally my aesthetic #slight spoilers #Anonymous #3h omegaverse

26 notes · View notes

somniatcr · 4 years

Text

dimitri & ptsd and suvivor’s guilt

as mentioned in a previous post, i genuinely could not stand the way that dimitri’s ptsd ( and mental illness in general ) was handled in canon. so below the cut i’ll be talking about how all of this will be handled here on this blog, more or less broken down symptom by symptom.

prior to the timeskip, dimitri suffered from both ptsd and survivor’s guilt, which do have overlapping symptoms, though his symptoms were seemingly more manageable as most people never caught on to such and they didn’t largely affect his every day life. all the same, he did have recurrent unwanted and unwarranted thoughts, namely those suggesting what he could have or should have done differently, that he should have died with his family or in their place, having apologetic thoughts, seeing himself as weak and / or unworthy, and so on and so forth. he’s since had difficulty sleeping, furthermore, and has experienced frequent nightmares ever since the tragedy of duscur.

he’s also since felt something of a disconnect with others, namely his childhood friends who, like himself, have suffered immense loss and / or have experienced severe trauma or tragedy. he spends far more time in his own head, thinking about the past ( the death, the tragedy, his family ), about the future ( about making his country better not only for himself, but for his friends and for his people, about being a good leader and king ), and about everything that’s happening around him ( about what he could do, about what he should do ) instead of actively engaging or participating. he spends more time thinking about the moment ( past, present, or future ) than actually living in it. needless to say, this goes on to affect his relationships with his friends who ultimately may have a difficult time genuinely connecting with him on a deeper or more emotional level.

moving on--- following the timeskip, dimitri’s mental health has declined quite significantly and now has begun to affect his day to day life, thus trickling into his actions, his personality, and, in turn, affecting his relationships with others further.

he still suffers nightmares, though they’ve since grown more vivid, more real, and tend to wake him up more violently than they once did. they’re more frequent and tend to keep him up at increasingly odd hours of the night. in addition, he now experiences flashbacks that may be triggered by certain stimuli that take him back to these traumatic moments from his past. essentially, he’s re-experiencing, vividly reliving, his past traumas through nightmares and flashes in this recurrent, repetitive manner and, try though he might, he can’t seem to prevent or avoid it.

his nightmares and flashbacks also tend to elicit feelings of fear or physical or psychological pain--- he experiences chronic headaches as well as discomfort and tightness / tension along the back of his neck as well as in his shoulders and upper back.

he’s prone to occasional irritability due to lack of sleep, headaches / body aches, and frequently feeling a bit on edge.

he’s big on repression and avoidance, oftentimes attempting to distract himself by throwing himself fully into his work or his training.

he feels almost constant guilt, shame, and pressure. often, he finds that he feels as if he’s drowning, in a sense--- struggling to keep his head above water and maintain a sense of self, of normalcy; to keep up with his training, with his duties, with his relationships and all of it weighs so very heavily upon him. every step back, every failure, is taken so deeply to heart, so personally, and he blames himself for just about every bad thing that happens, that has happened--- for the death of his parents and glenn, for the state of his relationships ( namely with his childhood friends ), for dedue’s death ( if, of course, he does die for him, which i’d like to think that maybe he doesn’t--- ). there’s a lot of guilt, a lot of regret, eating away at his heart and at his mind and the more that builds up within, the more that it wears away at him. he also feels ashamed of, embarrassed of, his own state of mind, his own illness, namely when it translates as irritability, anger, and / or outbursts.

he does experience occasional outbursts of rage and aggression. while rare, it does happen, though primarily this occurs on the battlefield, when his emotions are already severely heightened and he happens to be triggered by sights, sounds, and / or events that take him back to certain violent or traumatic events ( the tragedy of duscur, the various battles and deaths that have occurred during the last five years, etc ). while he does tend to lost himself in the moment and can become dangerous ( though significantly more so to his enemies ), such behaviors are fleeting; they don’t last especially long and, ultimately, he does come to, snapping out of these blackouts and returning to normal relatively quickly. following these outbursts, he always experiences intense feelings of shame and / or guilt for his actions and behaviors.

he’s very hyper-vigilant and has a tendency to be on guard more often than not. as a result, he may occasionally take certain actions to make himself feel more comfortable, such as sitting or standing with his back towards or against a wall, carrying concealed weapons, or preemptively planning escape routes within his mind upon entering a room or a new building / location.

he still experiences unwanted and unwarranted thoughts, though to a more severe degree than he did prior to the timeskip.

all of this said, again, as mentioned before, what he isn’t is cruel for the sake of being so, or violent / aggressive with his friends and comrades, or violent and volatile or easily set off; he doesn’t threaten to maim or to torture or kill ( slowly or otherwise ), he doesn’t go out of his way to isolate himself from others, he doesn’t enjoy hurting or killing ( he still hates it just the way that he used to ), and he doesn’t suffer from any sort of hallucinations ( occasional flashbacks, yes, but those are quite different ).

he’s struggling--- he struggles every day, but he is trying; he wants to be better, to do better, and though it’s hard, and though it’s painful, he’s genuinely doing his best ( well, most of the time, anyway ). he’s sad, and he’s angry, and he’s hurting, and he’s truly going through so much and sometimes, yes, it gets to him ( he’s only human and he’s going to have bad days ), but he cares about his friends, he cares about his people, and he wants to end this war; he wants to be a good king and to make his country better than it is, better than it was. he just has a lot of healing to do before he can really get there.

and maybe he’ll never be the same, maybe he’ll always be struggling, even just a little--- but he will; he will get there.

#i have a lot to say about dimitri my pals. i have many a headcanon to type up #lots of canon divergences to talk about!#but tonight we're gonna start with this #☆. ( dimitri )#☆. ( hc )#ptsd //

8 notes · View notes

you-told-me-to-buy-a-pony · 4 years

Text

Fitzroy vs. Ferdinand: The Coming of Age of Snippers

Fitzroy Maplecourt walks down the hallway, looking eagerly out of the windows. His eyes shined, reflecting the golden rays of the sun.

"What a lovely day," he muses, eying the cloudless sky. "Maybe I should go explore a little." Hieronymous Wiggenstaff's School of Heroism and Villainy was a "pleasant" place, certainly, but getting a fresh breath of air was one of Fitzroy's favorite pastimes.

As he exited the school building, he looked upon the monastery practically across the road. He wasn't sure how long it had been there- one day, it wasn't there, and the next, it was! It housed an odd group of students- almost similar to his own classmates, but certainly more odd and extreme. As the doors of the Officers Academy opened, allowing its many students to flood out, Fitzroy dared to wonder: What are those kids like?

Across the road, a red-haired young man stood, squinting into the sun.

How dare it be so sunny, so offensive to my eyes!

He stood proudly, hands on his hips. He turned his ire towards the school across the road.

What a foul institution! Playing both sides, creating unnecessary conflicts. It is a shame.

The next target of his overwhelming disapproval was, of course, the confused half-elf, also across the road. He's heard of him before, of course.

"Talented," they call him. But my abilities far surpass his!

Fitzroy caught the eye of a student across the street.

Hey, I think I've seen that kid before...

Ferdinand: "Fitzroy you're a big dummy. You can never compare to me. I am Ferdinand von Aegir"

Fitzroy: "How dare you!!!"

Almost as if on cue, Argonaut Keene and the great, lovely ????? notice the confrontation.

Argo: "Hey, loser. Don't be mean to my friend."

Fitzroy: *ready to perform tides of chaos on Ferdinand*

?????: *picks him up and carries him away* "Let us be going."

Fitzroy: "Put me down!"

????: "But we are going."

Ferdinand: "Run away you little baby! I am Ferdinand von Aegir!"

Snippers in the background: "I shall avenge you Fitzroy!"

After Firbolg and Argo leave Fitzroy to deal with his rage, Snippers waltzes over to him.

Snippers, in crab gurgling: "Ferdinand is the dum dum. Not you!"

Fitzroy: "He is! My tide of chaos would've shown him how weak he is. Thanks Snippers"

Fitzroy goes to meditate to ease his anger.

Snippers soliloquy:

"You are amazing Fitzroy. I will make sure that Ferdinand realizes what a loser he is."

Meanwhile at the Officers Academy

Ferdinand: "Haha. That dumb Fitzroy!" *sips tea*

Hubert: "Ferdinand. You're the only moron here."

Ferdinand is too happy to care.

Hubert leaves to deal with Edelgard and Dimitri's fight.

Ferdinand doesn't notice the strange crab lurking under the table taking notes on his every move.

After carefully taking notes on Ferdinand's tea drinking methods, Snippers roams the Officers Academy.

He sees an angry white-haired girl throwing popcorn at a blonde-haired boy, who wielded a box of crackers with pride. They've seemed to gather quite an audience. The black haired one is there frowning.

Hubert looks upon the two feuding students with concern. His lips form a rigid frown, until the white-haired woman manages to gain the advantage.

Snippers watches in blissful awe as the white haired girl uses all her strength to get up off the floor and with her fleeting energy throws a single piece of popcorn at the boy. The popcorn glides elegantly across the room. What beautiful projectile motion. It lands gracefully into the blonde boy's left eye. He screams and withers in pain. Red, the color of Snippers, gushes as the popcorn has chosen its new home.

Suddenly, Hubert's lips curl up, just at the very edge. A mischievous glimmer surfaces in his eye, as he dreams of bloodied violence.

The students rush to the screaming one's side and escort him to the nurse's office. Snippers, now drenched in koolaid, leaves. He's seen enough for today. He'll find the orange tea boy the next day.

The next morning Snippers returns to the Officers Academy just before school starts. In the kitchen he sees a man dressed in yellow with very red eyes. He's making breakfast but the students already have breakfast. He serves the food in the frying pan and says "After you all have breakfast, have some breakfast" He starts making more breakfast. Snippers is amazed at his madness. While he's cooking he's smoking some weird smelling cigarettes. He doesn't seem down on earth right now. He's high. After even more breakfast he showers.....and showers.....and showers. His glow increases with each shower.

Snippers is scarred.

Snippers continues wandering around and finds a purple haired girl studying a book about the Fódlan language. She keeps murmuring idioms to herself. Then a girl with brown hair and a hat walks up to her and says "Hey Petra. We're having a party to celebrate Edelgard's popcorn victory"

Snippers follows them to the party and takes note of their party habits.

After the party the girls go to Professor Blyeth's class.

And there in that very class is the disgusting orange haired tea man.

As the students walk out of class, Snippers follows Ferdinand until he's outside. Then he takes his chance and grabs his leg with his claw. Ferdinand screams in pain but the scream is nothing compared to Dimitri's.

"How dare you insult Fitz! He's not a dummy! He's smarter than you'll ever be. You can't even drink tea correctly"

As Snippers is giving this passionate speech all Ferdinand hears is gargling.

"That's where you've been, Snippers!" A familiar voice calls out to him from behind. He is cautiously scooped up, brought into a safe haven of rodent bones and blonde hair.

"Fitz, I found Snippers!" Rainer calls. Snippers sits in her lap contentedly, listening to the sudden pattering of boots in the dirt. Fitzroy and pals run over. He looks worried and like he was just crying. His eyes glisten as he looks upon his crustaceous friend.

"Oh Snippers, I missed you! I thought you unmanifested. I was so sad. I'm glad you're safe"

This happy reunion is interrupted by Ferdinand and Fitzroy making eye contact.

Fitzroy: "YOU STOLE MY CRAB"

Ferdinand: "I DID NOT. I AM FERDINAND VON AEGIR. HE TRIED TO STEAL ME"

*Fitzroy summons tide of chaos spell

*Ferdinand takes out blade

Literally every student from each school is surrounding them.

Hieronymous Wiggenstaff, suddenly: "What is this act of violence. Fitzroy you've endangered the life of this crab and for that you are hereby suspended for one month. You'll be taking classes at the Officers Academy for now"

Fitzroy: "NOOO. It was his fault!"

*aggressive finger pointing that Phoenix Wright himself would be proud of*

Ferdinand: "You incredulous dunce. It's your fault!"

Seteth, suddenly: "Ferdinand von Aegir your actions disgrace your fellow heirs and you will repent by taking a month-long suspension at the school of heroism and villainy"

Snippers is forced to spend more time at the Officers Academy. He sees Dimitri again. He's now wearing an eye patch. Rumors have it that the popcorn can't be removed and is forever embedded in his eye socket. Petra is still trying to figure out idioms. Hubert is just brooding and sometimes out of character crying.

Ferdinand's catchphrase at the new school actually makes sense since nobody knows him. He keeps drinking tea. The month is excruciatingly slow for the Firbolg and Argo. Ferdinand thinks the Fierbolg has recognized his superiority and sleeps on the floor so he can have both beds.

Snippers is experiencing life at the Officers Academy. He's happy.

1 note · View note