#it was either ashe of felix for this prompt

[onedivinemisfit]

Swordtember 3 - Rogue

FE3H (c) Nintendo

Art: Me

#swordtember #rogue #fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #myart #ashe ubert #baby gotta be stealthy #it was either ashe of felix for this prompt #as a pun on ‘going rogue’ since felix sucks at coop #but ashe is cuter

[fiction-box]

To End Where You Started

GN!Reader x Dimitri

This is a response to a request for a GN!Reader who was childhood friends with Dimitri before switching sides once it came time for the war. This one took me much longer to write because I wanted to better establish the circumstances of the work. Hopefully, you love it all the more! If you like this, there is another I wrote for the same prompt with Felix on my page!

Requests are open. The story will continue under the cut.

You’ve always valued human life. 

So when you saw Dimitri in the Holy Mausoleum, his mind lost and his lance bloody, you weren't sure what to do next.

It seemed no one knew what to do next. Felix was standing in front of Annette, glaring daggers at the blond. Mercedes slowly shifted toward her friend as Sylvain and Ingrid exchanged worried yet knowing looks. Dedue stepped forward, though he had no words. Even the professor seemed to be at a loss.

Dimitri, however, just began laughing again and shouting nonsense.

“No one will rest until Edelgard and the rest of the Empire force are burning in hell.”

“Your Highness-”

“Did I stutter, Dedue? Or perhaps you are considering turning your back on me now?”

 “Snap out of it, Boar!” Felix growled. “We’re not going to-”

“Then leave! If you no longer see me as your leader, why not go join her?’

Silence.

You could only watch as Dimitri’s eyes scanned the faces of your allies, daring your friends to take a step in either direction. No one spoke, but there was a palpable tension in everyone’s body. In the way that Mercedes and Annette clung to each other, in the way that Felix kept his hand by his sword, Dedue kept silent and steady, and Professor Byleth did not intervene. In the way that Sylvain grit his teeth, Ashe pursed his lips, and Ingrid practically strangled the pole of her lance.

In the way that you stepped forward, quiet yet resolute.

“I won’t be treated like this.”

Dimitri scowled, “You’re a soldier, aren’t you? You signed up for this the moment you joined the Blue Lion house.”

“I signed up to fight in the hopes of protecting Faerghus and its people! I signed up to honor my family and keep the ones I love safe!” you shouted over him before bringing your voice back down. “There is no honor in this.”

“And you would not serve your future king? Where is your honor in running away?”

“I would not bow to those corrupted by their emotions! No one who would act in such a manner ought to represent Faerghus!”

“Then go to her! Run off and join the scum of the earth that march under that woman’s name!” he spat. “But mark my words, when we do meet again, I shall meet you with the fate of a traitor. There will be no mercy even should you beg for it. Do not expect remorse from any of us when your head, too, rolls upon the dirt.”

You did not allow your face to betray any emotion at all. You would show no sign of anything, despite the way his words cut through you. How could someone you practically exalted, someone you had become so close to over the past several months, turn around and talk to you like this.

Maybe your friends weren’t strong enough to stand up for themselves. Maybe they had too much to lose; people to protect and family to remain with. Ideals, relations, and possessions that could only be secure if they sided with Dimitri. A few had said as such, declaring their belief in Dimitri as their future king.

You loved them dearly, but there wasn’t a single one among them that you would allow yourself to be treated this way for. Especially not now, when none cared to stand up for you.

Finally, you clenched your teeth. If that was how he really felt, and if your friends were letting him speak for them, then that truly was the end of it.

“Maybe I will go. Edelgard would at least pretend to care whether I live or die, and the Black Eagles are actually bold enough to stand up for what they believe.”

Spinning on your heel, you left the Mausoleum alone. 

In truth, you had no intention of joining the empire. At least not at first. Once you arrived back home, you informed your parents of the prince’s delusion. They seemed to be proud of your decision, and as proof of their support, chose to become a neutral faction in the war. 

The amount of prestige and connections that came with that sacrifice…you were torn between being moved and remorseful. While it was true that your family had not lost too much power, as crest wielding houses tended not to do, there was still a great sacrifice made in keeping you safe from the Kingdom’s demands.

That was not the only change, however. It turns out that news travels fast when the family of a veritable noble house defects from their allies. People were stopping by left and right, bargaining troop stations, land usage, resource management, and all the other things that would keep your mother and father busy. You chose to focus on defending your land, though it did not consist of much work while both the Alliance and the Empire found it so valuable.

Needless to say, you were more than curious the day your mother called you into one of the drawing rooms to meet with one of her guests.

“Mother, what is this about? You know I prefer not to attend these sorts of things.”

“Oh, I know very well, darling. This one is a bit different, though. Someone has requested to confer with you directly, and I would have been in a bit of a tight spot to say no.”

“What do you mean?”

“It is no secret that we have been both opening up to and prospering from negotiations from several sides of this war. There have been enticing offers to nullify our neutrality and pledge allegiance here or there. You know this.”

“Oh,” you were beginning to catch on. “So then someone must have made an offer that you liked?”

“Just…promise me you’ll keep an open mind.”

“Of course.” 

With an odd tension about you, you braced yourself for whatever would be found in that room. Your mother was not usually one to be so cryptic. A quiet sigh left your lips as you turned around.

The doors opened in front of you.

“Ah, I see you made your way here without much trouble.”

…what?

“Lady Edelgard? What are you-...Shouldn’t you be heading the war effort somewhere?”

What was this, really?

Remembering yourself, you lowered yourself in greeting, “Forgive me, your Imperial Majesty.”

You rose, trying to process the image in front of you. The Emperor of Adrestia sat poised on the sofa with a cup of tea your mother had no doubt been the one to offer. At her side stood Hubert, dutiful as he was so often described.

Soundlessly, she set down her cup, “Everything I do is for the future. For this war to end. I took notice that you were not among your former classmates’ ranks and grew curious. Needless to say, I did not need to look far to find you.”

“It was not my intention to run and hide,” you stated, taking a seat on the couch across from Edelgard.

“I never meant to imply as such,” she began. “On the contrary, I believe you still have a place in this war. If you left for the reasons I believe you did, that is.”

The conversation that followed consisted of platitudes and ideals; the type of which you both seemed to agree upon. You found your own ideas of the values of talent and human life to be eerily similar. It was decidedly reassuring that she had come to you directly, so that you could see them reflected in the leader of the Empire firsthand.

In time, you would join the Empire’s ranks under a woman named Cornelia while your house remained neutral. It would not have been in the best interests for a house so distant from the Empire to declare fealty, after all.

~~~~~~~

Several years later, you would be uncertain of your decision.

After everything you had witnessed Edelgard do up to this point, you weren’t so sure she viewed your ideals in the same light. Crest beasts, experiments, secret treaties, and deals made in the dark of night…you couldn’t get behind it, but your family had already made its decision.

Even so…

I agreed to fight for the empire, you reminded yourself, not for this woman.

Right now, you were being assigned to defend the Kingdom’s capital in an effort led by Cornelia. Ironically, the sorceress seemed to be the epitome of everything you stood against, yet here you were as her ally.

How far you had come from home.

She had positioned you between a pair of horrifying machines; two technological terrors known as viskam.

How low you must have come from your initial meeting with the Emperor.

You watched as your previous house leader’s army dispersed. Some soldiers veered left, others went right, but Dimitri’s main force charged up the middle, directly at you and the mechs Cornelia had placed.

Watching diligently, you noted how the Kingdom soldiers would take on multiple of Cornelia’s fighters while Dimitri would sneak past.

Well, as sneaky as someone with a bright fur cape and a target on his back could be.

A thought came to mind with every step forward he took. It came slowly, not sudden in the slightest, but sure.

If I were to kill Dimitri, all of this would end.

It was true, you knew. You were unsure how you felt about it, though you deduced that part of that uncertainty came from your past friendship with the prince. But had he truly reverted from the monster you left in the Holy Mausoleum?

There was only one way to find out, you supposed. You would face your past friend head-on. If he turned out to be the same man you saw that day, you would not hesitate to kill him. Anything to end this war.

Just as he made his way to the staircase, you walked forward, blocking off the top.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Dimitri’s eyes went wide, but you didn’t buy it. He had a clear view of you positioned just below Cornelia since the moment he walked into her sight.

So what, then? Were you to believe his surprise came from the idea that you were actually trying to stop him? You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the slightest bit insulting.

“It’s you…but why-”

You threw a dagger at him, which whiffed as he sidestepped, “That’s all I get? It’s you? After all those years, not to mention the amalgamation of everything you said and did once the Flame Emperor unmasked herself, you cannot even say my name?”

His eyes softened as though hurt, “I didn’t think I had the privilege, anymore.”

“Then fight me! You have always given yourself the privilege to take the lives of others,” another dagger, this one closer to hitting its mark before Dimitri barely moved out of the way, “Do not let mine be any different.”

“I’m sorry,” he approached you, climbing the stairs, “I understand why you left, but know now that I do not wish to hurt you. Just step aside so-”

“And then what? Let you kill Cornelia? Condemn thousands of others in some future conquest?”

What were you doing? This version of Dimitri was worlds apart from the boy you left in the Holy Mausoleum.

So why were you still fighting him?

A loud noise disrupted your thoughts. You turned to face it, noting that Dimitri paused, as well. Farther away, Cornelia let out a dark cackle.

“Wonderful job getting the poor princeling right where I need him. Your death will not be in vain.”

You did not allow yourself to fully process her words as a bright light shot out of the viskam that had made that awful noise, earlier. With the future king just paces away, you could guess where it was going to land.

But Dimitri had turned to face Cornelia.

It appeared you had a choice to make.

“Don’t resist,” you closed the distance between yourself and the Kingdom's rightful heir. He had grown since your last encounter; holding this grudge could only do more harm than good.

Maybe that meant you would not survive this, but in that moment, what was your life next to his?

So, in the second before he could react and before the viskam struck, you pushed Dimitri down the stairs.

And it was when the world went from bright white to pitch black that you knew your death would not be in vain.

~~~~

“A…ing…rk?”

“We…bre…ag?”

“I bel…sh…wake up in…!”

Everything ached, and you couldn’t move. It would probably hurt if you tried, anyway.

At least you could feel something, right? At least you were alive. Though if you had to go through life like this, then perhaps you were better off dead.

But then a cooling sensation began to make itself known throughout your body. It was strongest in your head, torso, and legs, though you could feel it spreading and connecting in your arms and neck.

Tentatively, you allowed your eyes to open.

“Oh, thank goodness! Mercie, we did it!” Annette beamed from her position at your head.

Felix scoffed, “About time.”

“How do you feel? Are you alright?”

“I can’t feel my legs,” you managed, surprised at the strength of your own voice, “and…I cannot move.”

Scanning the area with your eyes, you realized you hadn’t been moved, either. You were still lying on the floor by the stairs; exactly where you remember being struck down.

“Is Cornelia…?”

“Dead,” Felix confirmed.

“And I remember pushing his Highness down the stairs. It was the best I could do with my own strength…” you had known you weren’t strong enough to normally push him far enough out of the way nor to pull him far enough before he instinctively resisted, ”but he isn’t hurt too badly, is he?”

“Oh goodness, no! Annie told me she saw the whole thing. Apparently, Dimitri caught himself rather quickly.” Mercedes reassured you.

Annette frowned, “I’ve never had to spend this much time on an injury, and certainly not while working with others. I’m surprised it’s taking this long.”

“I’m surprised you’re alive.”

“Felix!”

“What? You and I both saw that thing,” he turned from Annette back to you. “If you had sustained any other injuries before getting hit by that thing, you’d have been dead on the spot.”

Annette and Felix continued their banter as you shut your eyes and listened. Finally, you began to feel your body coming back to life; stronger and back into your control.

“Okay, I think that should do it! How does that feel?”

Annette waited another moment for your response before calling your name in confusion.

“Oops,” Mercedes giggled, “I think the magic might have lulled them to sleep. We did go a little overboard, I suppose.”

“Is everything alright?”

The group turned, looking up at the new voice that joined them.

“Prince Dimitri! Yes, everything is fine. They should be all better upon awakening.”

“Ah, that’s good. I am sorry to have left you all here for so long. Sylvain, Ingrid, and myself were working on reconciling with the remaining soldiers.”

Felix raised a brow, “Then where are they?”

“Once the issue of alliances was out of the way, Ingrid told me they could handle the rest,” Dimitri directed his eyes down to you. “Sylvain…said it might be best if I came to check on them.”

The swordsman’s expression didn’t change, “Well that doesn’t make any sense. There’s already three of us-! Hey!”

Dimitri balked as he watched Annette get up and drag Felix with her. Mercedes followed close behind, smiling back at him. 

“Let us know if they need any more help!” 

“Y-Yes of course…” he stammered, confused.

“Of course what?”

Shocked to hear your voice, the Blue Lion’s leader dropped his gaze unto where you had been resting on the floor, “Ah! You’re awake!”

You made a small noise, blinking against the light of the sun as you began to sit up.

“Mercedes told me to fetch her if you were having any issues. Are you alright?”

Methodically, you tested each of your limbs, “Yes…Yes, I think so.”

“Good,” he sighed, and you swore you saw him relax the slightest bit.

The ensuing silence was uncomfortable, to say the least.

“Forgive me for this. I know you’ve just recovered, but I’d like to thank you for saving my life.”

“You're welcome,” you said, “but why are you apologizing for that?”

He maintained eye contact with you, “Because I would also like to ask you why you did that.”

At first, you didn’t really have a response. The more you thought about it though, the more clear everything felt in your head. There was really only one answer.

“I just did what I thought was right.”

“But I was terrible to you!” Dimitri didn’t hesitate, “I said horrible things to you, and I treated you like…”

“Like I was worthless?”

It was as though all the words left Dimitri's mouth. After another moment of silence, he finally averted his gaze, “I do not deserve your forgiveness.”

“No, you really don’t, do you?”

…no reaction. So he was telling the truth.

“But, if you were to apologize, I might forgive you.”

He looked to you slowly, a look of timid surprise written on the blond’s face, “Surely, it would take more than that…”

“It should not take more than that if you are genuine,” you painted your face with a small frown, in conflict with yourself, “You’re not the same person you were 5 years ago, Dimitri. I am not about to make a habit of forgiving people just because some time has passed, but I know that many more people can be helped if we clear the air right now.”

“Right,” he swallowed, extending his hand down to you. “In that case, know that I am truly sorry for the way I treated you, both within the Holy Mausoleum and the several days before. I also apologize for the effect it has had upon both you and your family, though it seems you have found a way to make the most of your situation.”

You laughed a bit at that, accepting his offer to help you to your feet, “I suppose you could say that.”

Now it was the prince’s turn to frown, “I am being serious. This will not happen again. I promise to respect and honor both you and all that you do for the Blue Lions.” He paused, suddenly unsure, “If…you do choose to come back, that is.”

Turning away to hide the small blush that appeared at his phrasing, you looked at the stairwell, “It would be thoughtless not to join, seeing how I almost died for you.”

At the feeling of his hands on your arms, you turned back to him, surprised.

“You must promise to never do that again. Do you understand me?”

“I…you know I could never promise that. You’re too important.”

“Swear it anyway,” he pleaded. 

How uncharacteristic, you wondered.

“Really, Dimitri-”

“I don’t care if it’s a lie,” he let go of you, taking a step back while never wavering his gaze, “Just…”

He seemed to have run out of words, and all the two of you could do was stare at each other. Eventually, you broke first with a sigh. You couldn’t bear to maintain eye contact knowing you could never rely on your words alone to determine your future. Regardless, you spoke.

“...I…promise…that will not happen again.”

A grimace appeared on Dimitri’s face out of the corner of your eye, but the two of you spoke no more after that. Wordlessly, you left to go find Mercedes and the others. Where Dimitri went in the moments following, you had no clue, but the conversation would stay in your mind throughout the rest of the war.

Only time would tell if your promise was kept.

#fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fiction #fe x reader #fe3h x reader #fire emblem x reader #x reader #fe dimitri #fe3h dimitri #dimitri fe3h #dimitri fire emblem #dimitri x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd

[gale-gentlepenguin]

(Prompt) "So now you’re a hero?" Monarch asked. "Today, I am" Argos replied to him

It was a dirty trick.

Marinette was stunned by the venom attack.

Tikki and Plagg had tried to warn her but it was too late, Marinette was a statue.

Monarch used this chance to go for the miraculous, finally the wish he sought was now his…

Kick!

Monarch was flung forward before he could grab the earrings.

He staggered up to see what hit him.

Monarch’s eyes went wide in disbelief. There stood a blue clad teen with his eyes fixed on him.

“Felix!”

“I can’t let you get that wish Uncle, dying or not.”

Monarch growled.

“I thought I dealt with you, you should be having horrific nightmares.”

Felix laughed.

“Horrific nightmares? You mean where my father is alive and has my ring? I lived through that nightmare far too long for it to paralyze me, and I can’t let Adrien live that way either.”

Gabriel coughed more ash.

“So, now you’re a hero?” He said with venom as he emphasized the word hero.

“Today I am.”

Gabriel shook his head.

“You’re not the hero, you are a misguided child that needed to be disciplined more.”

Felix growled.

“And you’re an old man that needs to learn to be a better parent!”

Monarch activated his venom to try and make impact, but Felix easily dodged.

“Without your butterfly, your basically a withered corpse. Just free Marinette and work with her. That or I will just fight until you’re ash. Either way you lose. And if you actually care about Adrien, you know which is the right call.”

Gabriel felt his body ache, deep down he knew Felix was right… but he refused to ever admit that.

Gabriel charged at Argos, only for him to dodge.

Gabriel fell to the ground, noticing his hand had completely crumbled to ash. The miraculous fell off his hand.

“No… NO!!!”

Marinette awoke from her state.

“What just… Argos?!”

The blue clad hero turned to Marinette.

“I realized that this isn’t a burden you should handle alone. And it seems I was right, the clever snake tricked you before I arrived.”

Marinette approached seeing Gabriel as he was turning to ash.

She felt sorry, not for the traitorous man in front of her, but the fact Adrien lost his father.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #alt recreation #Felix fathom does something #ml spoilers

[reborrowing]

gt July - "Ancient"

Interpreted the prompt liberally (and very self indulgently). I threw current Val and Phoebe at their original Ashes of the Phoenix incarnations (Val and Felix) from an original fantasy universe that I made in like...2012? I abandoned the project like 5-6 years ago at least, it feels ancient to me.

I restarted the AOTP story several times, but the general premise was like

A street scammer pulls a con on the wrong person and pinches a very cursed pendant that senses their latent magic and immediately fuses itself to their life essence/soul. They find themself in sudden possession of very strong magic, as well as intermittently possessed by an unknown entity. In events that are definitely entirely unrelated, the dream cities that fuel commonplace magic start to break apart, kicking off what initially appears to be a plague. For most folks without magic, it’s unremarkable, but it feeds on magic. Infected magicians suffer excruciating symptoms over an indefinite period of time until they’re cut off from magic entirely—a typically lethal experience. One wizard scholar is convinced that that this has happened before and intends to work himself to the bone looking for a solution until the plague kills him. He specializes in soul magic and divination. Altogether, this puts him in the unique position to recognize there's a random street rat running around with a piece of god's soul, for some reason. That's probably important.

Fling the two sets at each other, Vals' first impressions aren't great. But in original!Val's defense, the only things like a tiny race in AOTP were dream sprites, but they aren't fully sentient. they normally look like melting wax figures and their behavior is just an echo from someone's dream. the only time you'd find one that looks and acts like a person is if a fairly talented magician spent a lot of time sculpting one. so. kind of feels like they just found a fine art project from a mystery stalker. They work it out and bond over being weirdness magnets for magic they want nothing to do with.

Felix-Phoebe goes better, since they both click as people who are the same flavor of neurodivergent. Phoebe loves the idea of magic that has rules and can be studied, unlike the chaotic faery stunts she's had to put up with. Felix is similarly intrigued by the concept of particle physics until either Val catches enough of the conversation to understand it and shut it down, they are not going to invent nuclear magic, that's horrifying.

-

#but alex wouldnt this work better under au #probably but im playing w fantasy!unwarranted #g/t #gt #giant tiny #gianttiny #gtjuly #gtjuly2023 #gt community #stranger swap #aotp ocs #oc: val #oc: phoebe #i also couldnt come up w anything ancient I actually liked

[indigowallbreaker]

wars end kiss for ashelix?

I always want to write a big dramatic scene like this for the War’s End kiss prompt but I always hold myself back and do something different. Thank you for the opportunity to finally write the big kiss I wanted :D 

(Currently accepting rare ships! Click here for the info post!)

--

When the call went out at long last that the Emperor was dead, Felix ran. He ran clear across Enbarr palace’s entrance hall towards the wide front doors, dodging Kingdom knights and felled demonic beasts without a second glance. Ashe was just dismounting his wyvern. A blinding grin had already taken his face, and it burned all the brighter as Felix neared. 

Ashe might had said something then but Felix couldn’t hear anything over the rushing in his ears. They had won they had won they had won.

Felix kissed Ashe. He felt Ashe’s lips part in a surprised gasp and didn’t let it slow him down. Felix had one hand behind Ashe’s head and the other firmly on his shoulder and when Ashe began kissing him back, it felt as if all the tension in Felix melted away. 

Tilting his head, Ashe gentled the kiss. It became a slow thing that demanded all of Felix’s attention. One of them was crying. Or both of them were. Either way, the kiss soon became sticky and wet. Yet neither of them let the other go. Neither stopped but for scant pants of air. 

It took both forever and only a few minutes for sensation to gradually filter back in. Felix could hear cheers around them-- cheers for Byleth, for Dimitri, or just wordless cries of relief that the fighting was done. He could feel Ashe pressed against his chest. He could smell the sweat on both of them. 

Felix let Ashe’s lips drift away from his own but did not release him. Together they caught their breath, eyes locked, noses touching. 

Heavy footfalls sounded behind Felix, and he looked over his shoulder to see Dimitri and Byleth crossing the entrance hall. Reality seeped into Felix. The war was over-- but there still had a crown to give Dimitri, funerals to arrange, at least two capital cities in need of repair. 

Ashe nuzzled into Felix’s neck, making him turn back around. “We did it,” Ashe said, pressing a kiss there.

Felix could only nod. There were too many next steps the world would need them to take. For the moment, Felix kept his attention on holding Ashe. With a kiss to those silver-grey locks, Felix closed his eyes and let out an exhale that threatened to buckle his knees.

They had won.

#fire emblem three houses #felix hugo fraldarius #ashe ubert #ashelix #onyxedskies #behold the sooooooft #rare pair run

[onyxedskies]

Why are you limping for m!ashez for the injury prompts? You can't expect me to request anything else lmao

If not ashez, then maybe Ashelix?

you can't present me with the option of ashelix and expect me not to take it but also i want to adhere to your request and so i raise you: ashezlix

also im sleepy so this is either gonna be utterly incomprehensible, disgustingly soft, or both

word count: 654

Felix had never been one to openly admit when he was hurt. He tried his best to hide it from his comrades, tried his best to go to his tent and tend to it himself. His friends attempted to catch on to any of his injuries before he did so - the potential of him hurting himself further was too high for anyone to be at ease with his plan, especially to Mercedes - but it didn't work as often as they would like. Felix had plenty of practice hiding his injuries, and he only got better by the day.

So when Ashe saw Felix struggling to hide his limp, he knew something was very, very wrong.

"Felix, why are you limping?" Ashe tried not to let the panic seep into his voice, but he doubted it worked.

Felix looked up at him with wide eyes and grunted. "I'm fine."

Wordlessly, Ashe looped his arm around Felix's waist, trying to support him. His frown only deepened when Felix didn't protest.

"We're going to the med tent," Ashe said, gently turning Felix in the intended direction.

"I'm fine," Felix said. "I don't need-"

"Yes, you do," Ashe said, firm but still gentle. "I'll carry you there if I have to."

Felix was silent for a moment, but nodded stiffly. They walked in silence, Felix clearly struggling despite Ashe taking more and more of his weight with every step.

The moment they got into the tent, Ashe helped Felix sit down on one of the beds and went to get a damp cloth and a vulnerary. Felix shook his head when he saw the cloth, wincing.

"The cloth won't be necessary," he said, voice strained. "It's internal."

Ashe inhaled sharply through his nose but nodded. He heard footsteps approaching, relief flooding through him when he realized it was Shez, frowning as he saw Felix sitting on the bed.

"What happened?" He didn't bother concealing his worry, immediately taking Felix's hand. Usually, Felix would have blushed or looked away in such a public setting. Here, he just gripped Shez's hand tightly.

Shez looked up at Ashe, clearly thinking the same thing. Whatever happened, it was bad.

"Do you know where Mercedes is?" Ashe asked.

"She should be coming here now," Shez said.

"Alright. I don't want to do anything without her guidance," Ashe said. "If it's a break, a vulnerary could only damage it more if it's not set correctly."

"Good call," Shez said.

Ashe sat beside Felix, grabbing his other hand and letting his head fall on his shoulder. "Do you want to tell us what happened?"

"Not important," Felix said, closing his eyes against the pain. "It'll be fine."

Seemingly right on cue, Mercedes walked in, eyebrows immediately furrowing at the sight of Felix sitting on an infirmary bed without putting up a fight.

"Do you want us to leave?" Ashe asked quietly. Felix squeezed his hand but didn't let go. Ashe smiled lightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Okay. We'll stay."

Mercedes was able to troubleshoot the problem fairly quickly - a fractured femur, however Felix had managed that - and healing it was somewhat trivial. She drew curtains around the bed to give the trio some privacy when she was done, smiling at them.

"Better?" Shez asked quietly, still rubbing circles into Felix's hand. Felix nodded, energy drained from the healing magic.

"Do you want to take a nap?" Ashe murmured. Felix hesitated before shifting, going to lay down. He pulled Shez and Ashe with him, and the two shared a smile before lying next to him.

It was slightly cramped in such a small bed, but as he watched Felix relax enough to fall asleep quickly, sandwiched between the two of them, Ashe knew it was worth it. And as he glanced up at Shez and saw how soft his eyes were as he looked down at Felix, he knew he agreed.

#ashezlix #ashez #shezlix #shez #shez fe #shez fe3h #shez fe16 #shez fire emblem #shez few3h #few3h #fe3h #fe #fire emblem #drabble #ashe ubert #ashe duran #ashe fe #ashe fe3h #ashe fe16 #ashe fire emblem #felix hugo fraldarius #felix fraldarius #felix fe #felix fe3h #felix fire emblem #felix fe16 #fire emblem drabble #fe drabble #fe3h drabble #fe16 drabble

[silvanils]

there’s got to be a morning after

a prompt fill for @nirnwrote​​ - ‘I feel like a stranger in my skin.’

Rating: T+ (for mature themes) Content Warnings: drug use, implied sex, swearing, self-deprecation

Felix has experienced a lot of morning afters in his life — some bad, some worse. The first time he tried skooma he woke up covered in muck and blood sharing a gutter with a pack of actual rats, his head still spinning. The morning after his binder with Sam he’d woken up practically naked in one of the Imperial City’s gardens being shouted at by a guard for “defiling” the statue of Dibella. (And the morning after that, he thought he’d never see the light of day again…)

Few have been as wild as the morning after he made his unlikely escape from that dungeon, when he’d woken up to find the inn he’d chosen to stay in had been stolen by pirates. Pirates! And led by an ex of his, to boot! And the lady that was supposed to be a one-night stand had swiped the precious amulet he’d been planning to sell and told him in no uncertain terms:

“No, actually, we’re going to see this through.”

None have been so pleasant as this one.

The sunlight filtering in through the old stained glass windows is dappling the whole room in bright, brilliant colors. There’s a splotch of rose-red on Martin’s cheek, highlighting the sharp lines of his cheek and a single wavy lock of his hair that’s cutting across his face. Behind him, Felix can just barely make out Iri’s smaller form — her bright hair dyed blue and gold from the glass.

Felix stays still as long as he can bear it, doing everything he can to fix this moment in his memory, then slips away gently, leaving his lovers alone for the time being. He tugs on one of Martin’s loose shirts, steps outside to light up a pipe he recently swiped from a pompous ass wondering if maybe, just maybe, smoking from it would make him feel richer, somehow.

Turns out, it still just tastes like smoke. Oh well.

He watches the embers burn in the ash, marvels that he still feels so warm inside. He wonders how long this will last — how long until he fucks something up, or they tire of him and move on, like everyone else has...

“Felix?” Martin’s voice is gentle enough that it doesn’t startle him, and as Felix turns he can’t help but smile as he takes in the man’s appearance — he’s wearing nothing but a pair of borrowed pants, his hair still a lovely tousled mess from the night before. “Is everything alright?”

“Never better,” Felix says. “Last night just gave me a lot to think about.”

Martin smiles, and Felix feels his heart stutter at how cute the dimples in his cheeks are. “Yes, it… was a little overwhelming, wasn’t it?” He wanders closer to Felix, leans against the small stone wall beside him, gazing up toward the heavens. “This is something I haven’t felt in a long time, either. I’d like to see where it goes, if... that’s something you want, too.”

Felix feels something clench in his chest, then, and suddenly there’s dampness on his cheeks. He knows the man was a priest for years, and part of that job is knowing the words people need to hear, but… he’s still surprised Martin’s so damn discerning.

“I’ve always felt like a stranger in my skin,” Felix says. The words spill out, just like the tears did. “Never really fit — never belonged anywhere. But I feel like I could belong here, with… you.”

And he’s scared. Scared to fall in love with the two of them because he knows it’s inevitable that he’s going to lose them. But Martin seems to understand that, too, because before Felix falls too far into his own head the other man pulls him into a comforting embrace.

Steady, certain, true.

“This won’t be a brief, fleeting spark,” Martin promises. “I want this to last, and I’m sure Iri feels the same way, too.” He pulls away enough to look into Felix’s eyes, strokes the hair out of his eyes and tucks it behind one of his ears. He chuckles, the sound deep and hearty. Felix thinks he could get used to hearing that sound. “I suppose it is a little funny, isn’t it? That three misfits like us… can fit so well together?”

Felix laughs quietly, the warmth of Martin’s touch and the sincerity of words banishing his fears, at least for the moment. He closes his eyes, allows himself to hold onto the hope that… they will stick with him, be willing to fish him out of the dark wells of despair whenever he falls into them.

“We do make quite a funny pair,” he agrees, smirking. “The three of us.”

#elder scrolls #oblivion #martin x male hero of kvatch #martin septim x hero of kvatch #martin septim #hero of kvatch #;follyshipping #;Felix Aelius #;Iriel Silvanil #;knight writes

[armatization-a]

( @asterisque / @battlestudies )

[ FIVE BRUSHES ]  sylvain + ashe !

[ five times they don’t and the one time they do prompts ; accepting ]

Ashe is taking notes, watching Byleth as they talk. He isn't the best with tactics just yet, and anything that requires calculation is lost on him. He makes notes on formulas and tactics, but the quill slips from his hand. He gasps sharply, before diving under the table to grab it.

The quill itself is fine, thank goodness. Ink hadn't splattered everywhere, either. He picks it up with one hand, the other on the bench to hoist himself back up. He flinches as his hand touches flesh instead. Sylvain's hand. Ashe pulls back, and whispers an apology.

How embarrassing - Ashe nearly grabbed hold of Sylvain's hand. But he's sure Sylvain will forget about it soon enough.

—

There is no such thing as a good ghost story.

And yet, somehow, the Lions have all gathered around a campfire. It started with roasting things over the fire, chatting happily about the day's events. It should be a group bonding activity, though Felix left early. As soon as Mercedes notes the spooky nature of their outing, Ashe wishes he were as antisocial as Felix.

Mercedes is detailed in her horrible ghost story. She leans into the fire just so, face illuminated menacingly by the flames. Ashe wants to leave. He scoots back as she ramps up, scooting until-

"Ah!"

Ashe screams as he falls to his side, horrified. He felt something cold and bony and awful, but soon realises his mistake. It's only Sylvain. It's only Sylvain's hand.

"I- that's-" he gasps. "I- I'm sorry. I think I should go."

He scrambles to his feet and runs, his chest heaving. He would like to die now, please.

—

Ashe isn't big on dancing.

It's not that he doesn't want to, it's more that he shouldn't. He stands against a wall, staring at the destroyed flower arrangement. As long as no one knows it was his lousy footwork that did that, then everything would be fine. He eyes the door: maybe he could sneak out. He sees someone approaching, and looks over. It's Sylvain, his hand extended.

Ashe looks down at his hand, then back up at Sylvain. He wants to, but then his eyes dart back to the flower arrangement. It's only a silly crush, but the last thing Ashe wants to do is embarrass himself in front of anyone, let alone Sylvain. He smiles, but shakes his head.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm not feeling very well. I was thinking about turning in early. Oh but, I think I see Annette over there. I think she would appreciate a dance.

Before Sylvain can question it, Ashe is gone, face burning. Why is he like this?

—

Ashe misses those innocent days, where his only worry was school dances and missing assignments.

Okay, he doesn't look back at his embarrassing moments with fondness, but the general idea of it? He misses idle campfires, he misses his friends being more carefree. He misses it all. But despite that, there's one thing that didn't change.

Ashe still likes Sylvain.

This isn't surprising, but it is disappointing. There's no time to chase this, even if he wanted to. Even if he could. In his mind, he's still the awkward teenager who flinched at the thought of holding hands.

When they sit together, Ashe's mind wanders back to his teenage years. Maybe it would have been inappropriate to try back then, but he wonders what would happen if he had tried. Would they be together? Would they still be together? Would they be a battle couple? Hm.

He snaps himself out of his thoughts. He's supposed to be paying attention to the war meeting, but once again, tactics aren't his strong suit. He glances over at Sylvain, who is listening, at least. Ashe simply cannot pay attention. His mind is elsewhere, full of anxieties and what ifs.

His eyes trail down to Sylvain's hand. Perhaps in a better life, he might have dared to try. But he can't. He won't.

—

The battle isn't won yet. Ashe doubts it ever will be.

He's in a state, but he keeps going. He's worn to the bone, beaten down, but he must keep fighting to keep his friends and allies safe. He nocks another arrow, but as he's about to release it, he hears a thunk. It takes a moment to realise.

That's bone. That's metal hitting bone. That's his shoulder.

His now useless hand lets go of the arrow, which clatters to the floor. He can't feel the wound, but he knows it's there. He drops the bow to touch it, and shudders. The arrow is solid in his shoulder. He needs to get out of here and find help, but he's barely covered as it is. He hisses as he tries to collect himself. He needs a plan.

And then Ashe sees him, his knight in shining armour. Sylvain gallops towards him, his horse's hooves beating against the earth. Ashe tries to stand, but he struggles. Sylvain reaches out and Ashe reaches too, but he can't quite make it. He stands up higher with all the strength he has left.

Then another thunk. A gasp. Darkness.

—

Ashe wakes up in agony.

He isn't surprised, really. He's surprised he's alive, though he doubts he'll be in fighting condition for a week or so. He sighs, shifting to assess the damage. He can't move his arm.

Panic sets in. That arrow must have snapped tendons, torn away at his nerves. He tries again, but as he does, he looks at his arm. There's something holding down his arm - specifically, his hand. He follows the source, and finds Sylvain asleep, holding onto Ashe's hand.

"Sylvain?" he whispers. He doesn't stir. It's for the best that he doesn't, to be honest. Ashe tries to squeeze his hand, but his hand is weak. He'd rather enjoy the moment, anyway. He relaxes, and lets his eyes slide shut once again.

#↻┊ ASHE ( in character. ) #asterisque #battlestudies #i tagged both your blogs LOL #this is a lil long but also feels short? i'm sorry

[thelocalmuffin]

Ashe and Dedue with either 3 or (if you want something cute maybe) 20

I went with Prompt 3: Goodbyes.

This story has massive spoilers for Azure Gleam! Also, yes, I did imply Ashe is trans because it’s my fic and FE Trans Week.

By this rate, he’s going to miss him.

Ashe’s eyes open, rolling out of bed and stumbling onto the ground. Putting on his undergarments along with his binder, his clothes, and his boots, he rushes out of the door. He’s not entirely sure if everything is backwards or inside-out, but he doesn’t care right now. He can’t miss him.

Rushing out, he dashes through the camp to the main gate. Thankfully, no one is calling his name, intending to stop him.Reaching to the front of the camp, he catches his breath, leaning on the post.

Dedue’s not here. 

“You should practice running more often.”

Turning to see Dedue, he’s in his heavy armor and fully armed with his ax. Though he looks very handsome, Ashe frowns at the reminder why Dedue’s heading out. If it weren’t for the capital’s near collapse, this separation would have never happened. 

“I know, I just didn’t warm up.” Ashe admits, his face falling before sighing. “I am relieved I caught up to you. I thought you were going to wake me before you left.”

“You looked peaceful. It would have been rude for me to awaken you from your dream.”

“Well, I don’t mind.” Ashe sighs, crossing his arms. “I know you’re busy, but I would have been heartbroken if you left and I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye.”

Dedue’s stoic face falls. “I apologize. It won’t happen again.”

Ashe smiles. “Thanks. Uhm, well, when do you head out?”

“Rodrigue has to speak to Felix about some of the extra duties so he can run the army successfully. After that, we will be off.”

Ashe and Dedue hear chatter in the background. Their focus lingers on the father and son, who are not too far away. For once, their -mainly Felix’s- voices aren’t raised, which is a relief. He just has his arms crossed, occasionally huffing at his father’s advice.

“It seems he’s even realized how serious this is…” Ashe frowns. “You promise me you will be okay?”

“I will certainly do my best.”

Ashe tries not to say anything. As much as he wants to push him to take care of himself,he knows why Dedue is going with His Majesty. To be his shield so he can complete his mission. He knows it’s crucial, but the real possibility of losing Dedue is so much on his consciousness right now…

Ashe rushes over and tries to wrap his arms around Dedue’s frame as tight as he can. He knows Dedue isn’t much for words, so when he reciprocates and holds him close, Ashe feels at home.

Ever since the loss of his father, he’s been struggling to feel some normalcy, but this is perfect. It’s a promise that if fate is kind to them, they will reunite again. After a moment, the two pull away. Before Ashe says his goodbyes and joins the other troops, Dedue cups his face.

“What is it?” Ashe whispers. 

Dedue leans down, and Ashe immediately catches on to what is happening. Getting on his own toes, he meets Dedue’s own lips. It’s a sweet herb taste, one tea they’ve shared together so many times. It only lasts a moment, but Ashe is on cloud nine when Dedue pulls away.

As Rodrigue comes over, Ashe pulls away from the embrace. “It’s time, then?”

“I’m afraid so. Take care of the plants for me.”

“I will.” Ashe promises, “Good luck out there, Dedue.”

“Thank you. Take care, Ashe.”

Ashe nods, starting his trek back to camp to start his morning duties. He waves as passes his Majesty, gracing him with a quick bow and wishing him well too. As he tries to get through the day to try to not worry about the small army that had to split, the taste of that sweet herb still lingers, and Ashe has a little comfort that though that kiss had been a departing one, it’s a promise he will be back soon.

**

I'm still taking these! This meme format is the one I'm referencing. When you can, just send it over to my ask box.

#ashededue #ashe ubert #dedue molinaro #azure gleam spoilers #muffin writes

[stringcheeseboiii]

Pancakes and Puppy Love

nov. 6 prompt: banana pancakes (from @lavenderotpprompts​)

a cute pre-timeskip fic with felix and annette. featuring: a kinda sad beginning, a really happy ending, and the possible start of love... or something. (felix sure doesn’t know!) no content warnings. ~2.2k words. 

---

It had not been a big assignment. From what Felix remembered, the Professor had told them to write something or other about battalions, which they had been going over in class that week. It was only supposed to be a page long, and Felix had scribbled it out on the morning that it was due. 

When class started, he handed it in along with all of his classmates. Well, almost all of his classmates. Annette, it seemed, had forgotten all about the assignment. Felix had not seen her since. 

That particular class had been in the morning, and they had separate classes throughout the day. He had been studying in his dorm for hours afterward, and it was now about dinnertime. Felix contemplated all of this as he carried an armload of books up the stairs; he was headed to the library to return them. 

The new librarian— the one who replaced the evil guy who used to "work" there— accepted the books and thanked Felix for bringing them in on time. Felix thought it was dumb to thank someone for doing what was expected of them, but he held his tongue. As he was walking out of the library, Dimitri and Mercedes were entering it. 

“Oh, hello, Felix!” Mercedes chirped, waving enthusiastically with her free arm, the one not holding books and papers jutting out at all angles. Dimitri nodded in his direction with a half-smile. Felix did not acknowledge him, as he had no need of him. The person he needed to talk to was Mercedes, who was Annette's best friend.

“Have you seen Annette around?” Felix asked casually, crossing his arms. 

“Hmm, well," Mercedes said, frowning and twisting her hair ribbon as she thought about it. "I sat with her in class a few hours ago."

That was promising.

“But,” Mercedes said, shaking her head sadly, “she said she wasn’t feeling well, so I walked her back to her room and left her with some water and snacks and medicine.”

That was not promising. 

“All right,” Felix said. “See you around.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to study with me and Dimitri? He said he can help me with my project, and we can all three work on them. It’ll be so—“

“Sorry,  I’m a little busy at the moment.”

Felix made his exit, wishing and wishing Dimitri wouldn’t stare like that and trying to forget those strange blue eyes. 

---

His next stop was the dining hall because it registered now that he was rather hungry. He steered his steps in that direction, ignoring anyone who looked at him and walking so quickly that no one would try to keep up. Or so he thought. 

“Hello, Felix!” a cheerful voice came from his right. Felix did not slow down, but the newcomer kept pace. Ashe. 

“Hi.”

“Are you going to the dining hall?”

“Yes.”

“I think I’ll join you then. I’ve been really busy today and now I’m so hungry!”

Ashe laughed a little at himself, but Felix didn’t see what was funny and didn't join in. They walked up the steps to the dining hall in silence. 

“So…” Ashe said as they got in line behind a few other students. “Have you started working on that project for Professor Manuela’s class?”

 “No.”

“I see. I haven’t started either.”

Felix wanted to ask what he had been “so busy” with, then. 

"But I'll definitely get on it by this evening!” Ashe added. “I don’t want to turn it in late like last time. She took some points off for that.”

 "Hmm.”

Even though he was well-aware Annette was back in her dorm room, Felix could not keep his eyes from roving the hall, looking for her. He had to make himself stop. He kind of wished Ashe would leave him be, but as they got their food and ate at one of the back tables, away from most of the noise, Felix had to admit he was glad he was there. Anything to distract him from Annette, or rather her absence. Even if that “anything” involved sitting through an entire meal while Ashe explained the plot of one of his favorite knight books in extreme detail. 

---

Ashe bid him good night (even though it was only seven in the evening) and said he would start on that project. Felix wished him good luck. Now it was just him and his thoughts, and these were currently preoccupied with a certain redhead. He jammed his hands into his pockets, and a familiar paper poked its edges against his knuckles. An intriguing and possibly stupid idea occurred to him, and before he knew it, he was chasing Ashe down. 

“Ashe! Wait! I need to ask you something!” he said as he caught up with him. Ashe had barely left the dining hall, and they stood together on the small patio outside. The evening air was cool as summer turned to autumn. It was nice, but Felix had no time to think about things like the weather. He had decided on a mission, and he was going to carry it out. 

“Can you help me make something? In the kitchen?” he asked, not realizing until now how dumb this sounded when he said it out loud to his friend.

“M-- make something? Well, I won’t claim to be the best, but I did learn a lot at my parents' resta—“

“Do you know how to make banana pancakes?”

Ashe beamed.

“Do I?! I used to make them all the time for my siblings! They were cheaper for one thing, but more importantly, I think they taste a lot better. Are you really still hungry?”

 “No. They’re for… someone else.”

Ashe raised an eyebrow. 

“Someone... else?”

Felix’s face felt a little warm.

“Ye—yeah. Doesn’t matter who. So will you help me or not? I’m not the best at cooking, but I’ll... do my best. I already have a recipe.”

The recipe in question was written on the sheet of paper in his pocket, and he handed it to Ashe. Annette had given the paper to him after class the other day, saying that she had made them recently, and they were good, and she wanted him to have a copy for himself. So she gave it to him, writing smudged and paper folded by her hands. Felix hadn't the heart to tell her he hated sweet things. (Even so, the paper had been in his pocket ever since.)

“Of course I’ll help you, Felix! I’d be happy to.”

“Good. I appreciate it.”

They went back into the dining hall, got permission from the chef, and got to work. 

---

The work did not take anywhere near as long as Felix imagined. He always thought cooking seemed like a lengthy, painful ordeal. But with Annette's recipe, Ashe’s cooking knowledge, and Felix's willingness to follow directions (for once), it all went perfectly. Soon, Felix was carefully stacking warm banana pancakes (sprinkled with powdered sugar) onto a plate. He and Ashe washed and put away the dishes in record time too. 

“Great work, Felix! You’re a quick learner.”

“Whatever. Anyway, uh… thanks again. I wouldn’t…”

He trailed off, picking up the plate and accepting the fork Ashe was holding out to him. Felix cleared his throat.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it alone,” he finished slowly. 

“Oh, it’s not a problem at all! Like I said, I’m always happy to help.”

Felix smiled slightly at Ashe’s cheeriness, but he was too worried at this point to really hear anything but the concerned voice inside, telling him to hurry to Annette. 

“See you tomorrow,” Felix said, picking up his schoolbag with his free hand and sliding it onto his shoulder.

“See you tomorrow! Good luck with the project, and…”

Ashe grinned, and there was a sparkle in his eyes, a certain mischievousness Felix had never seen there before. 

 “And with whoever that’s for.”

Felix fully blushed this time and hurried off, ears burning. Like he said… whatever. 

---

His nonchalance deserted him when he arrived at Annette’s dorm room. He had done many things requiring bravery in his life, but this… this was a different animal. He knocked.

 “Hello?” he said, leaning toward the door and hoping the pancakes wouldn’t get too cold. “Annette, are you there? It's Felix.”

There was no reply for a moment, but then the door opened up a crack. Annette stared at him through the tiny space, looking extra small and joyless. It did not suit her whatsoever and sent Felix even further down his path of anxiety about her. 

“Annette?”

“Hi, Felix.”

She sounded so defeated it was actually painful to listen to. 

"Did you need something?” she asked.

“No. Not at all. I brought you something to eat; that’s all. And I wanted to see, uh… how you’re feeling.”

The door opened a little more. 

“How do you think I’m feeling?! I’m a complete and utter failure!”

At this pronouncement of failure-hood, she burst into loud sobs, pulling up the collar of her sweater to hide her face. 

“Hey, easy, Annette,” Felix said, saying the first things that came to mind. If he thought any of this over, he would run away. He couldn't stand it when people cried. 

“I don’t think you’re a failure at all," he said.

The tears slowed but did not stop.

“You don’t?”

 “Of course not. You’re the most successful person I know. And you know I don’t say stuff like that without meaning it.”

“Yeah, I know. I also… oh, I’m so stupid!”

 “Huh?”

“I lied to Mercie too! I told her I was feeling sick when she asked me to study with her and His Highness, but I was lying so I didn’t have to face them!”

Felix didn’t know how to reply to that, so his tone was uncertain when he got the words out. 

"That's not exactly lying..."

“Even if we decide I'm not a big stinkin’ liar, that doesn’t change the fact I’m totally neglectful of my studies, and now all the teachers will look down on me!”

"Now that is lying.”

“Wait… you think so?"

"Yeah." 

"Even though I forgot all about that assignment, which totally proves both things?”

“Yeah.”

The pancakes were definitely cold by now. He hoped they tasted okay like that. 

“What do you have there, by the way?” Annette asked, sniffling and wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Her sweater was blue and fluffy and definitely something Mercedes made for her.  

“Some pancakes. Banana ones. I don't know if you like those, but--”

“The dining hall doesn’t— wait, Felix?!”

“... yes?”

“Did… did you make them for me?!”

The door opened all the way, and she looked up at him with the biggest, most adoring eyes possible. Felix memorized that look of wonder for safekeeping. At the same time, he was busy hoping it was too dark for her to see his expression. He just knew it was so mushy that it would probably make him gag if he saw someone else wearing it. 

“Ashe helped,” Felix said. “But yes. I made them, and I used your recipe too.”

“Felix…”

He braced himself for more crying, but instead, she launched herself at him and caught him in the tightest hug. She almost knocked the plate out of his hand, but he managed to hang onto it. 

“Felix, that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, ever! Thank you so much!” she exclaimed, swaying him back and forth. 

“Uhhh…”

He felt like he was malfunctioning. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. His mind, normally so buzzing and loud, had gone silent. He felt like breathing had suddenly become a bit of a challenge, like when he pushed himself too hard in training, but it wasn’t just because of Annette squeezing him so hard.

“You’re welcome?” he said, trying out the first words he could manage. 

“You’re the best, Felix.”

Annette finally let him go, and immediately, he felt like something was missing. He’d never felt like that before. Annette just kept on smiling at him, her face still wet with tears, though all the sadness was gone now.

“Here!” Felix said awkwardly, holding out the plate to her. She took it from him, giggling, and grabbed his arm to pull him toward the tiny flight of stairs he had used to get here.

“Will you eat with me?” she asked.

“I already…”

He found himself unable to turn her down when she gave him that wide-eyed, puppyish look again.

“Sure,” he told her, unable to believe himself. As they sat side-by-side on the steps, Annette started telling him all about her day. She started talking about how it had been hard to study that day (because she couldn't see through the tears). And then she talked about a kitten she had been feeding. And then about whether he wanted any pancakes. Their knees were touching, and Felix got that funny malfunctioning feeling in his brain again. 

They ended up sharing the pancakes (which were just fine when cooled off) and talked for a whole hour. As Felix walked back to his dorm with a weird, warm feeling in his chest, he decided he hadn't been this happy in years. He also decided that he might love her. Just a little bit. 

#fe3h #fe3h fanfiction #felix hugo fraldarius #annette fantine dominic #felannie #this was fun to do!! #it wrote most of it last night between 1 and 2 am hahahaha #shoutout to tumblr for stealing my italics and making me redo them all :( #i was rlly happy to find such good prompts and hope to do a lot more of them this month #felix and annie are SUCH a good ship and i love them A LOT #also annette's experience is based on myself... i totally forgot about a discussion board recently :( #fortunately i have one of the nicest professors in the world and she let me make it up for full credit!!!!

[raspberryranpo]

FIRE EMBLEM THREE HOUSES MASTERLIST

BLACK EAGLES

EDELGARD

reacting to a new house

reacting to the new house being neutral

their s/o humming a lullaby

HUBERT

fluff prompt 9

fluff prompt 25

reacting to the new house having sleepovers

their first date with you

their s/o humming a lullaby

what their weddings would be like

FERDINAND

the new house mocks being offended

their first date with you

what their weddings would be like

DOROTHEA

their s/o humming a lullaby

PETRA

LINHARDT

their first date with you

what their weddings would be like

with someone who’s either trouble, or completely calm

CASPAR

their first date with you

what their weddings would be like

BERNADETTA

GOLDEN DEER

CLAUDE

reacting to a new house

reacting to the new house being neutral

waking up with them

when they have a crush on you

with someone who’s either trouble, or completely calm

HILDA

comforting a sick claude

reacting to the new house having sleepovers

LORENZ

comforting a sick claude

the new house mocks being offended

waking up with them

when they have a crush on you

LYSITHEA

comforting a sick claude

MARIANNE

comforting a sick claude

LEONIE

comforting a sick claude

RAPHAEL

comforting a sick claude

waking up with them

when they have a crush on you

IGNATZ

comforting a sick claude

waking up with them

when they have a crush on you

BLUE LIONS

DIMITRI

baking with their s/o

fluff prompts 1 + 22

fluff prompts 2 + 22

fluff prompts 11 + 15

fluff prompt 12

fluff prompt 16

getting back together post timeskip

giving them a goodbye kiss

protecting their s/o in battle

reacting to a new house

reacting to the new house being neutral

their first date with you

their s/o doesn’t want children

their s/o humming a lullaby

waking up with them

DEDUE

baking with their s/o

fluff prompts 2 + 22

giving them a goodbye kiss

reacting to the new house having sleepovers

protecting their s/o in battle

their first date with you

their s/o doesn’t want children

waking up with them

SYLVAIN

baking with their s/o

fluff prompts 2 + 22

giving them a goodbye kiss

protecting their s/o in battle

the new house mocks being offended

their first date with you

their s/o doesn’t want children

waking up with them

FELIX

baking with their s/o

being shy around his s/o

fluff prompts 2 + 22

fluff prompt 19

fluff prompts 23 + 24

giving them a goodbye kiss

protecting their s/o in battle

surprising him with dark chocolate

their first date with you

their s/o doesn’t want children

waking up with them

with a laidback s/o

INGRID

giving them a goodbye kiss

ANNETTE

fluff prompt 16

giving them a goodbye kiss

MERCEDES

giving them a goodbye kiss

ASHE

baking with their s/o

fluff prompts 2 + 22

giving them a goodbye kiss

their first date with you

their s/o doesn’t want children

waking up with them

CHURCH OF SEIROS

SETETH

fluff prompt 7

fluff prompt 16

reacting to a new house

reacting to ear piercings

relationship headcanons

FLAYN

SHAMIR

their first date with you

CATHERINE

fluff prompts 10 + 15

their first date with you

RHEA

#fire emblem three houses #fire emblem three houses headcanons #fe3h headcanons #fe3h x reader #masterlist #headcanons

[chroniclesinlacuna]

'things you said when you were scared' for dex/nate my beloved?

I’m so sorry this took so long! But! Thank you for the prompt!!

After (read on ao3)

Words: ~950 Rating: T Warnings: Blood, references to injuries

There are hands on him. There are hands on him, and he doesn’t know where he is, and he doesn’t know who is touching him, and god his head hurts.

“Easy, easy…” He doesn’t recognize the voice, but when the roaring in his ears dies down somewhat, it seems to take most of the fog with it, and he can smell enough to tell him all he needs to know - through the smoke and the char and the blood, he can smell that too-clean, too-sharp antiseptic smell of-

“How’d you get here so fast?” His voice sounds muddled - muffled and scratched, and he’s not sure if it’s the fire in his throat or the ocean in his ears causing it. He does manage to open his eyes though, taking in the young, confused face above him.

The agency medic fussing at him blinks at him as he finally opens his eyes, then just shakes his head. “We were on call - like normal? Soon as the building blew, everyone was on site.”

The building?

The building…

He remembers two things in that moment. The explosion that knocked them off their feet - and apparently tossed him into a wall, if the headache is anything to go by - and-

“Dex?”

“What?” The medic isn’t a vampire, that much is clear, and Nate has no issue shoving out of his reach and to his feet. He can feel the last cuts and bruises slowly knitting themselves back together, but nothing feels broken or worse, and, frankly, he really doesn’t care about that.

“Agent? Agent!” He can hear the voice just fine. Finds the roar in his ears is of a different sort this time.

What’s left of the building is little more than a few walls and smoking rubble, swarming with agents. Something still actually, actively there in the back of his mind clocks Adam and Felix, and a few feet later, Mason, all getting checked out and looking varying degrees of annoyed.

He sees Adam tilt his head to the pair of ambulances at the far side of the ruins and he’s gone.

“Dex? Declan!” He calls, and now he knows the scratch in his voice is from some tear - can feel it warp in the back of his throat - but he can’t find it in himself to care, about the scratch, about the pain. There’s so much smoke, and char, and blood that he can’t smell or see anything clear and the last thing he’d seen-god, he’d seen Dex-

And then he’s seeing him again. And he’s upright, sitting on the back of the ambulance. He’s breathing, hell, he’s arguing with the medic it looks like, and he’s there and...and…

Dex is on his feet just in time to catch Nate, who only just manages to reign it in enough to collide but not knock them both off their feet. Nate can taste blood in the press of his lips to Dex’s but he doesn’t care - doesn’t care that it’s sending all his senses haywire, doesn’t care that he’s holding Dex tight, because he can feel the bruises purpling up under Dex’s hands on his own skin, doesn’t care that it’s less a kiss and more just needing to feel the man breathe, feel him alive, against him.

Some part of his brain - the part that’s not focused on the breath and the blood and feel of warm skin against his - manages to notice the tense press of fangs against lips and teeth, the harsh clack as Dex presses in closer, seemingly uncaring.

Minutes, hours, seconds later, he feels hands on him, on his face, gently coaxing him away from the kiss and then gently pulling him back in to breath into Dex’s skin at his neck - and he goes with absolutely no resistance, the fight and the adrenaline all but draining out of him at the barest gentle touch and the trust, the absolution, that movement takes, after...after.

There’s an ugly purpling bruise maring his skin there - cutting that beautiful inked rose in half, and Nate shuts his eyes to just enjoy the warmth, and the beat of a pulse still going strong.

He vaguely hears Dex talking - feels it more in the rumble of his voice, pressed this close to his throat. Hears a squeak of an affirmative from somewhere off to his right, then footsteps leading away.

“Mm...you’re worrying the baby medics you know…” And it’s low, and rough, and there’s this rasp that makes Nate wrap his arms tighter around him. He knows it’s too tight. Can’t seem to make himself let go.

And Dex just curls his fingers in his hair and presses him closer.

It’s that acceptance, that insistence, that helps Nate relax - just a bit. Not enough to pull away. Not enough to let go. But enough to breathe and not taste ash. Enough to breathe, period.

“Where’d you go?” It’s no more than a whisper. He’s almost worried it’s too quiet for Dex to hear - wonders if he can make his jaw work long enough to ask again without something vital breaking in half.

“They pulled me outside. Think they saw shit about to go sideways and decided to run off with the consolation prize.” Before Nate can even react to that, he’s speaking again, fingers tightening ever so slightly in his hair, “And before you even try, they’re already dead. Turns out, explosions are fantastic distractions.” And he...he tries for levity. Misses by a mile, but Nate appreciates the attempt.

“Don’t…” He can’t ask. It’s not possible. It’s not fair. “Don’t do that again.” and it’s said around a broken laugh - or, at least, Nate thinks it’s a laugh.

“I’ll come back.”

It’s not the truth, because they can’t know.

But it’s not a lie, either. A promise doesn’t have to ring true to be honest. And that will have to be enough.

tag list: @homeformyheart @fictional-affections

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #n sewell #twc detective #my detectives #dex dibella #my writing #declanxnate #blood tw #injury tw #long post #thank you!!! #queerbrujas #and of course I forget to tag anyone first time around whoops #new process just gotta get used to it!

[fiction-box]

Hello hello I see requests are open 👀 I loved your "only one bed" fic w Ashe so I'm here to ask for more lol

May I get a fem or gn reader tutoring Felix and Sylvain (you can just choose one if you're not feeling inspired) in magic? If I remember correctly both of them have a budding talent in reason magic so maybe the professor saw that and assigned reader to help cultivate that talent??

Idk how much detail you like in your requests so feel free to ignore the rest of this!! But if you want more specifics maybe reader has always been a little nervous around the nobles in the BL house since they're a commoner?? And even though they have every confidence in their abilities they're not very assertive so Byleth wanted reader to learn how to take charge in a situation and actually tell people what to do lol

Thank you in advance!! :D

This is one of the reasons I value requests so much. There are so many ideas you guys come up with that I want to discover!

I took these two stories in two very different directions, but I think they both stay true to the prompt in their own way. The different sways of each story are heavily influenced on how I think one would have to interact with each character to achieve the specifics we're looking for.

In this case, I was inspired to write Sylvain's story with more edges and harsh moments, though Felix's was created with a much softer arc in mind.

Enjoy! Requests are open to all. Send in as many as you wish!

The stories will be continued under the cut.

Sylvain:

“N-No! No. Please wait!”

For what must have been the third time this session, you adjusted the position of Sylvain’s hands so that his fingers were curled inwards.

“Remember? If you don’t curl your fingers in, you aren’t directing the magic properly. That could cause the fire to spread sideways rather than forward, and then you’d be putting everyone around you in danger.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “My bad.”

You were quite certain he did remember, but you didn’t say anything about it. It was a trivial matter, really. Curling his fingers yourself every once in a while was nothing compared to what you knew he could do to you if you got even slightly too pushy with him.

“That’s alright, just…try to keep it in mind as we go through the motions, okay?”

Taking a step back, you sighed and relaxed your body a bit. You were going to make sure the only thing he lit on fire would be the target across from him. Burning down the training grounds was not an appealing idea to you.

“So, different people pull their magic from different places within them, yes? For example, Mercedes feels her magic from somewhere closer to her heart, while Annette describes her pull as somewhere within her head. Personally, I feel my own resonate within my palms.”

He nodded. Good. You were getting somewhere.

“I can’t just tell you where to pull yours from, though. What I can say is that once we find your source, the rest is easy. While we could do some research or studying to make a more educated presumption, I’ve found that the fastest method is just to guess and check.”

Sylvain stretched out his arms and hands, “Sure. Walk me through it then, professor~.”

You were just about to until he returned his hands to the wrong position. Again.

No, you were not going to sigh. You were not going to show any signs of impatience, you were simply going to breathe normally, approach him calmly, and gently reposition his hands.

And as much as the little nickname irked you, you wouldn’t say anything about that, either.

What was the scale of a commoner’s displeasure at a nickname when compared to that of the power of a noble? One with a crest, no less. He didn’t need to learn magic in order to ruin your life. Or order your death.

He certainly didn’t need to know you were intimidated by him, lest he get any ideas.

“You’re pointed at the target right now. I’ve adjusted your form so that it’s perfect. The only thing left is for you to pull the magic from your body and feel it spread into your fingertips.”

“Got it,'' he winked, then turned his eyes back to the target.

There. You were almost done. The only thing that was left was for him to find the magic. After all, you were confident in your ability to show him how to use it.

“...”

“It’s fine, don’t worry!” you reassured him frantically. Goddess knows what he might do if he thought this was your fault. “It can take a bit of time, just make sure you’re focusing on tracing it to your- NO, WAIT-!”

You rushed to his side when you noticed he had wrecked his form and yet was still trying. This time, a small flame did come out of his hands. However, thanks to his uncontrolled form, it began to widen to his sides.

“Woah. Uh, what do I do now?” he asked. A sliver of panic had slipped its way into his tone.

“Just aim at the target and imagine it shooting forward. Do it quickly; it’s too late to control the fire at this point, so we need to let it go before it-”

You let out a squeak of surprise as you watched it shoot across the room to the target. The widened flame hit it, but the fire didn’t truly catch onto the target. Though you were certain it would have missed if his form was actually correct, it had become clear what the professor had meant when she mentioned he had a “budding talent” in the art.

When you were originally assigned to work on magic with Sylvain, you had voiced your concerns to Professor Byleth.

“You want me to teach? And a noble, of all people? One that you claim has talent, yet has never even accessed his magic before?”

“Good,” she smiled, “so you heard me.”

“I…please, I don’t think this is a good idea. I don’t know the first thing about teaching, or…or giving orders…or…”

“That’s why you’ll be teaching one of your classmates. It will benefit us all for you to find your backbone.”

“Well then, what about Ashe? I’ll teach Ashe, or I’ll even teach Dedue, but…it isn’t really my place to teach a noble. Besides, I have a family, and if anything happens-”

“Okay,” the mercenary laughed, “now you’re definitely not getting out of this. It looks like you can learn quite a few lessons from such an experience, after all.”

“But-”

“Sylvain will be waiting for you at the training grounds. I expect you to arrive on time. I will check on you periodically.”

Well, so much for that, you thought to yourself. You hadn’t seen so much as the color of Professor Byleth’s hair since this whole thing began.

As you finished the task you had originally approached Sylvain to complete, you began to wonder how curling his fingers of all things would be the most challenging part of this lesson. He was clearly listening to you when you spoke, so the issue must be in your directions, right? Maybe you really weren’t cut out for this whole “giving-orders” thing, even though you thought you had been doing a good job, so far.

“Hey,” Sylvain began. “Why haven’t you said anything to me?”

You paused, “What do you mean? I’ve been talking you through the process this whole time.” Honestly, now you weren't sure if he was listening. Maybe he was the spacey type.

Sylvain quirked an eyebrow, “Every time I fail to go back into position, you just stop and move my fingers manually. I must have done it at least four times by now, and most girls would have told me to knock it off at this point.”

“I don’t…” four was an understatement. But did he really not realize the reason for your hesitation? “...know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes. You do. There’s this look in your eye every time you notice it. You have a lot more patience than I do, that’s for sure. Your tone of voice stays neutral or positive, and each time you maneuver my hands, you don’t move them any rougher than you did the time before it. But even with all of those behaviors combined, you manage to give it away through your eyes.”

What.

He’s been able to notice all of those…traits…of your behavior over the past two hours you’ve been working to teach him, but he still can’t do any better than a spread flame of-?

There’s no way.

“So you’re saying you know how to use the proper positioning?”

“Pssh. Yeah, I think it’s safe to say I got it the first time.” the red-headed noble teased, “But all those extra times you spent showing me really helped-”

“Do it, then.”

His brows knit lightly, “What?”

You pointed at the target he had only technically hit during his last shot, “Get into your form. Aim at the target. And light it on fire.”

Sylvain was too stunned to speak. Instead, he did as you said, turning to face the target and firing a small fireball at the center. Sure enough, it caught fire. Right on the mark.

His smug demeanor returned, “So, how did I do? Don’t you think I should get some form of a reward for all my hard work today?”

You slowly exhale, closing your eyes and calming your heartbeat. Then, you fire your own flame spell at the target. The hay is half ember and half ash when you turn to leave.

“We’re done. I’m done.”

“Woah,” Sylvain’s eyes went wide as he stared into the remains of the fire. Quickly recovering from his shock, he turned back to you, “You oka-?”

“Two hours of my life!” you snap, spinning on your heel to face him. “Gone! Wasted!”

“Hey, now, don’t get too upset. After all, I know a few women that would be jealous of someone getting to spend that much one-on-one time with me,” his signature smirk returns, and all you can think of is how much you’d like to burn the look off his face. “Why don’t we go out and get some tea together? Would that make you feel better?”

“Two hours! And now you want even more time?”

You actually wanted to cry, now, but there was no way you were going to give him the satisfaction.

“I was supposed to spend my time with Mercedes and Annette, this afternoon! I would’ve had tea with them! Then we would’ve studied for our certification exams, and…I didn’t need this! And you certainly didn’t need this much time from me.”

Sylvain actually looked a little hurt at that, and before you could truly process everything you had just done, you heard three small raps at the entrance of the training grounds.

“That’s quite enough, you two. Sylvain, please head back to my classroom and wait for me there. We’re going to be having a little chat about training etiquette, but not before I speak with your classmate.”

His regretful expression left almost as quickly as it came when he turned to face Professor Byleth with a wink, “Right. Don’t keep me waiting, Professor!”

She glared at him, and you were immediately glad her look wasn’t directed at you.

“Don’t tempt me. Maybe I won’t show up for two hours. Whatever keeps me entertained, right?”

The Gautier noble lost his smirk as your own mouth formed a thin line to keep from smiling. You weren’t sorry for him in the slightest; especially not after he treated you like a plaything for the better part of an afternoon.

“And no detours!” she barked as he left.

You stepped forward, “Professor…I don’t-”

“I disagree.”

You blinked twice, “What?”

“With what you said earlier,” she smiled, “about not needing this. I disagree.”

The tension in your shoulders dropped in defeat, “What are you talking about, professor? I must have completed what you told me to at least an hour ago, but I wasn’t even competent enough to pick up on it. There was absolutely no reason for me to stay any longer than that, and especially not with someone as depreciative of my company as-”

But it didn’t feel like she was listening to you. Her smile was just growing, and all you could do was trail off and watch as your professor turned and headed for the door.

“You’ve grown more than you realize. You were finally able to assert yourself today.”

You shuddered a little, “I’m still worried about what I said to him.”

With her hand on the door, Professor Byleth faced you one last time, “Don’t be. Now you know as well as I do. Those nobles think they can do whatever they want, so it’s an important lesson for us to learn.” She nodded once, “It’s okay to stand up for yourself, my student. Someone needs to keep them in check.”

The doors of the grounds shut behind her with a thud.

She was right, you knew. You felt more sure of yourself, just as she had asked you to become. Not only that, but now that you knew people like Sylvain were qualified to be nobles, you weren’t as scared to talk to them.

But now you had a new fear. One day, Fodlan’s future would rest in the hands of nobles like these.

If messing around was the best they could do, they definitely had their work cut out for them.

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

Felix:

“It’s not working.”

“Don’t worry, th-that’s alright! This is only your first day, after all. I think you’re doing well.”

Felix huffed, “Doing well isn’t going to save my life when I can’t cut through someone’s armor. Stop flattering me and actually do something to help.”

“R-right! Of course!” you stumbled. You allowed your eyes to scan Felix’s body, evaluating his form and making a mental checklist. He was able to create the magic just fine, but the Faerghus noble was completely lost when it came to firing it.

“Well, your stance is great, and you can summon the magic easily enough. B-but I don’t have enough information to properly identify a problem area-”

“Then show me again,” he ordered as Professor Byleth entered the training grounds. She was carrying a handful of spears that she must have just bought.

“That’s enough, Felix. You're the one listening, here. Let your friend do her job.”

He balked at that. “She is not my friend. Neither of us are here by choice, in case you’re having trouble recalling the context of the situation you put us in!”

Your teacher began swapping out the new lances in her arms for the broken and rusted ones discarded around the training grounds. “Well, complaining about it isn’t going to get you anywhere. Just be nice and listen, and I’m sure this will be over before you know it.”

The swordsman turned to you, clenching his teeth, “Please. Show me how you performed the spell. Again.”

“Y-Yes!”

“Ah-ah. No,” you turned to Professor Byleth as she looked you in the eyes, “You’re the professor. You’re the one giving the orders. Felix isn’t teaching you how to teach. You’re teaching him magic.”

“Ah, right,” you stood a little taller, “In that case…Felix, I’m going to demonstrate how to cast the Thunder spell once more.”

Your posture faltered at the resounding sigh from across the room. “I’m going off to the shop to repair these weapons. I expect this…dynamic…to be fixed when I return.”

As you watched your professor leave, the noble next to you cleared his throat. Back to work.

“Okay, I-I can go slow. And I’ll talk you through it!”

You got into your original stance, going over each component from your feet to your fingers. Felix reproduced your efforts methodically.

Next, you informed him of the process of garnering magic from your internal source. As the Thunder gathered in your hands, it did the same in his. It was just as bright as yours, which had always come as a surprise.

You didn’t dwell on it too long as you came to the part of the system you knew you’d spend the most time on. You tried to describe it as best you could; tracing an imaginary line between your fingers and your target before letting it go. And while yours went, the lightning magic between Felix’s hands began to grow in size and glow ever brighter.

“Tch. Not again.”

“Hold on, I’ll get it!” you reassured him, running across the room to grab one of the logs you were using as targets. Returning to him, you placed the wood in his hands as it took the brunt of the power from his spell. However, the rest of it went into you.

“Agh-! Th…that’s-” you hug your arms to your chest, attempting to cradle them against one another lightly, “that’s definitely what a Thunder spell with double the power would feel like.”

While Felix didn’t outright ask if you were alright, you felt his eyes scanning over your arms. But as long as you were the one taking the hit and not him, he couldn’t get any more upset with you, right? A commoner teaching magic to a noble. While you didn’t doubt that you could, you were not exactly confident that you should. However, it wasn’t up to you. Professor Byleth called the shots.

Shots that you needed to be giving right now, you remembered.

“Forgive me! I need to focus.”

Felix opened his mouth as if in protest, but you spoke again before he could get any sound out, “So, tell me exactly what you’re thinking when you try to fire off the spell.”

He furrowed his brow, “Just like you said. I draw that invisible line in my mind, I run my arms along it, and I think of letting go. Releasing.”

“Hmm. I think that might be our issue.”

“You think?”

“Hey, I’m not exactly the best at teaching compared to just doing, in case you couldn’t already tell.”

Only after the words were out of your mouth did you realize what you just said.

“Oh no- I’m so sorry! Look, I…I’ll figure this out for you, you’ll execute it, and then we won’t have to do this again.”

“Calm down. You’re allowed to be frustrated, too,” he scoffed. “I haven’t exactly been a model student.”

“Right…a-anyway, try going through the routine once more, but instead of thinking about releasing, think of pushing. That way you’re using both mental and physical force.”

So you watched as Felix did just that. He got into his stance, gathered the magic into his hands, pushed his arms forward, and furrowed his brow.

But the lighting grew ever brighter, the supply of logs grew ever smaller, and your arms grew ever more sore.

“W-why-” you asked, cradling your arms together once more. Tears formed in your eyes as you looked elsewhere, fighting the pain. “I don’t get it.”

“Come on!” Felix shouted at himself. With your head turned away from him, however, you had presumed your so-called “student’s” anger was directed at you.

Consequently, you flinched away from him.

From outside of your view, Felix’s eyes widened slightly. He softened his tone a bit, “Woah…Hey, are you alright?”

“Please,” you pleaded, turning to fully face him. “I’m doing my best. I just…if you could just give me a bit more time to wor-”

“I’m not mad at you, and I’m definitely not about…to hurt…you…” he began to trail off.

He was staring at your arms. Once you followed his gaze, you could see why. With a gasp, you held them straight out in front of you.

The flesh of your arms was burned.

It went in a pattern that made it look like something had lashed at you. The last log you used must not have been as effective as you had hoped it would be. Your knees dropped out in shock.

Felix burst toward you. Catching your torso, he lightly lowered you to the ground.

Dread cloaked your thoughts like a shadow as your breathing became more shallow and stuttered. You couldn’t cast healing magic over yourself. Moving your arms at all was a special kind of torture, but performance of the spell you needed couldn’t be achieved without more range of motion.

“Teach me how to heal you.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but you were still too petrified to register what he had said.

“What?”

“Look, maybe I can’t fire off lightning, but we can both clearly see from your arms that the spell worked. If you can teach me how to heal, even if I can’t send it into you, you can still make use of the spell on yourself by placing your arms where you used to put the logs.”

It sounded like a reasonable enough plan. It was the best thing you had at the moment, anyway. You didn’t think you could move about to get help in this state, and you didn’t like the idea of being left alone in the training grounds, either.

So you walked him through it. Kneeling together on the floor, you told him to change his fingers into a cupped form. He was instructed to send the power through his wrists rather than his fingertips to get it to form. Then, with his hands glowing green and hovering over your arms, you directed him to give the magic directly to your afflicted areas.

Both of you were stunned when Felix was able to send the healing magic to you on his first try. You didn’t need to move into it, it just flowed from his wrists into your arms.

Your head gave an involuntary bow as you felt the magic wash over you. It was like a light breeze on a hot day. More like a cool salve on a burn, you supposed.

“Thank you,” you breathed, head still lowered. Your breaths continued, slow and deep as you closed your eyes.

It got you thinking, though. How was it that Felix could fire his healing magic effectively, but not the Thunder spell you had both been working on? It was the same principle, though you think you conveniently forgot to instruct him on it, this time.

Your eyes opened lightly as you felt the flow of magic dissipate from your body. Felix must have stopped, then.

As you tried to lift your head back up, your vision spotted and dizziness set in. You supposed you had never truly been injured that badly before. Sure, the attacks you had taken throughout the time of one battle all added together might total quite a bit of agony, but Mercedes was always around to heal you at intervals whenever you suffered anything noticeable.

“...ngh..”

“Easy,” Felix stated, moving his hands to balance your shoulders, “you’ll get up when you’re ready. Nothing good will come from you pushing yourself right now.”

Focusing on your breathing, you put your head back down and placed your palms in front of you for balance.

“What were you thinking…" you took another deep breath, steadying yourself. "When you sent the healing spell, what was the thought permeating your mind?”

His hold on your shoulders tightened subtly, “I was just thinking that I wanted you to take it.”

“There, then,” you affirmed as your voice returned to you in full. “That’s going to be what you need to do in order to fire your spells. Your objective will be to get the recipient to take the spell from you.”

Trying to lift your head up once more, you succeeded. You let your eyes blink a few times, then turned to the noble kneeling next to you.

“So, go do it. One more try,” you nodded. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll be done.”

His lips pressed against each other, and his eyes hardened. You could tell he was less than interested.

“I promise I have learned from my mistakes. You’ve already found the solution, Felix. You performed it just now. The only thing that’s left is to use the proper spell.”

“Got it,” he stood, moving into position a few feet away from his target. Before he gets into his form, though, he looks to you.

“If it backfires-”

“It won’t.”

He clenched his teeth, “It might not, but I’m telling you that if it does, you’re not grabbing that log. I’ll find a way to take care of it myself, understood?”

You laughed, “Don’t worry, I couldn’t stand if I tried.”

“I mean it.”

“I’ll stay right here. I promise.”

That seemed to be the answer he was looking for. The swordsman turned back to the target, took his stance, and you observed as the lightning formed in his hands.

You watched him shove the spell forward, and just as you predicted, the lightning flew from his hand into the center of the target.

“Just like that!” you smiled warmly, eyes fixed on where the projectile had struck.

Right on cue, the doors to the training grounds flew open, unceremoniously announcing the return of Professor Byleth. The first thing her gaze landed on was the scorched target across from Felix.

“Wonderful jo-” as she turned to address the two of you, however, her eyes caught on your own position.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“...”

“...”

“Uh…Felix knows healing magic, now…?”

After a quick interrogation to ensure neither of you deliberately hurt one another just so he might practice his powers in faith, the mercenary escorted both of you to see Professor Manuela.

Fortunately, she didn’t spot any remaining injuries on either of you. This led your own professor to become quite pleased with your performances, and she insisted that this become a more permanent arrangement.

You were originally concerned about how much time you would have to spend teaching until Professor Byleth began a weekly rotation system between the two of you.

Though you can’t say you were ever fond of the sword, you were definitely not expecting to ever become so experienced with one in such a short period of time. Now that you and Felix could both effectively use magic and metal interchangeably, the two of you possessed extreme versatility on the battlefield.

The Blue Lions were now more than ever a force to be reckoned with, and it was safe to say that the House overall was far from displeased.

#fe3h #fire emblem #fe x reader #fiction #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #x reader #felix x reader #sylvain gautier #sylvain x reader #felix hugo fraldarius #felix #sylvain #fe3h felix #fe3h sylvain #fe3h felix x reader #fe3h x reader #three houses #byleth eisner

[indigowallbreaker]

#76 from the kiss prompts “top of head kiss” for syldue!!

I’m back with more rarepairs! 

(Currently accepting rare ships! Click here for the info post!)

--

Deflecting yet another arrow with his shield, Sylvain thrust his lance at a swordsman trying to cut across to Annette and Ashe’s section of the battlefield, all the while keeping an ear out for the tell-tale whinny of Ingrid’s pegasus-- which would only happen if she were in trouble-- and his eyes peeled for Dimitri’s cloak, a particular combination of blue and blood splatter that had been in front of Sylvain just a second--

Something solid connected with the side of Sylvain’s skull. The world darkened around him. He thought he heard a voice calling his name. The last thing he felt was guilt that he couldn’t answer them...

And then he was awake.

Sylvain blinked sluggishly, greens and browns filtering into his vision. Another blink caused the scenery to right itself-- and he could see trees in the distance. Recognizing the road leading up to Garreg Mach, Sylvain tried to make a noise. All that came out was a garbled croak.

“Sylvain?” 

It was then Sylvain realized he was being carried on someone’s back. He lifted his head and saw short white hair, a scarred cheek half turned to look at him. “Hang on. We’re almost there,” Dedue soothed.

“How’s everyone else?”

“Ashe took a fire spell to the shoulder, but otherwise everyone is fine.”

Sylvain lowered his head again, letting out a sigh.

“There is no reason to blame yourself,” Dedue said, reading Sylvain’s sigh perfectly. “Even if you had been conscious, you would have been too far away to help. Ashe will be okay, just as you will.”

Sylvain didn’t respond to that. He just let his eyes drift shut again, the dull throb in his head convincing him to slip under again. But Dedue hefted him higher and Sylvain jolted awake. “You shouldn’t fall asleep.” Dedue looked back at him again. “Talk so I know you’re awake.”

“Sure, let’s talk.” Sylvain couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his tone. “We can go over how terrible that battle was, or how easy I was to knock out, or--”

“I would rather you talk about your favorite things.”

The gentle way Dedue spoke caught Sylvain off guard. He hesitated, tempted to ignore the request and continue picking apart his own failures.

Sylvain wrapped his arms around Dedue’s neck. “I like art,” he said slowly. “Paintings. Especially if it’s a painting where it’s snowing outside. I like cheese, a good berry sauce, eggs, the color green... what else...”

The rest of the way to Garreg Mach was spent in this way. Dedue only spoke up when Sylvain trailed off, either commenting on the last thing Sylvain said or just prompting him to keep going.

“We’re almost at the gates,” Dedue said at one point, snapping Sylvain back into consciousness. “Just a few more. What else do you like?”

Sylvain nuzzled into Dedue’s back and mumbled. “I like you. A lot.”

Dedue chuckled. “I like you too, Sylvain.”

“No, I mean, I like you.”

“I know. And I like you too.”

Sylvain tightened his hold on Dedue’s neck. “Somehow I don’t think you’re taking me seriously.”

Dedue stopped walking. Sylvain realized his eyes had closed again but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. A pair of hands gently helped him from Dedue’s back, low voices spoke over him, and then Sylvain was lying down.

Someone pressed their lips to the top of his head. Sylvain forced his eyes open in time to catch Dedue brushing hair from his forehead. “We will speak again once you are better,” Dedue said with a small smile.

“I’m holding you to that,” Sylvain murmured. Dedue chuckled again. Then he nodded to someone behind Sylvain and Sylvain felt himself being carried off.

Craning his neck around-- in a way that his head protested-- Sylvain looked up at the person walking alongside him. “Think I have a chance with that guy?”

Felix, lip split by otherwise healthy looking, snorted. “He carried you all the way back here. What do you think, idiot?”

Sylvain wanted to offer a witty reply, but his head had had quite enough. Smiling at the memory of Dedue kiss, Sylvain let darkness take him once again.

#fire emblem three houses #sylvain jose gautier #dedue molinaro #syldue #softdedue #you supplied a few! i cant wait to get to them all! #rare pair run

[msbluebell]

In the captured!AU, let‘s pretend for a moment that Jeralt didn’t die. He wouldn’t just be protective-dad, he‘d be livid-almost blind with fury-dad. Then upon being reunited with his kid he would be nothing short of a supportive father helping his child through a horrible trauma.

Ooooooooooooooooooh ho ho. You. You keep talking Anon, because this prompt is as delicious as Mac and Cheese.

Jeralt has always been silently protective of Byleth. He once set a building on fire, faked his death, and ran off for twenty years just to protect Byleth from Rhea. Byleth is his ONLY child, one of the last things he has of his wife, and many people in game remark how openly proud of his child he is and how much he very obviously loves them. Jeralt may not be the most emotional parent, but he’s a loving, reasonably protective, good father.

So if he survived Monica’s assassination attempt (which I’m going to say still happened, but he survived because Monica’s aim went off when Byleth tried to interfere and she only wounded him) and made it to the war he’d be...destroyed for lack of a better term. 

I find it funny that English doesn’t have a word for parents that outlive their children. We have one for a child that outlives their parent, and a spouse that outlives their spouse, but we don’t have one for a parent that outlives their child. I think we need one, because I can’t imagine something so painful. You can move on from a spouse, but moving on from your child’s death? That’s the kind of bitter, stinging, empty pain that I think would be so difficult that for some it would be impossible. Yeah, we should have a word for that. The Germans have a word, Verwaiste Eltern,because of course they do, they have a word for everything. I once saw a Duke article that argued we should use the word Vilomah, because we use the term widow, which is Sanskirt.

Either way, I think the pain of a parent losing their child is so devastating that it deserves it’s own word. Or...maybe...the reasons we don’t have a word is because, for a loving parent, the pain is so great that they can’t even bare to imagine a word for it.

Jeralt is probably one of those parents that never even considered outliving his child.

In the game he repeatedly mentions his own death, and makes plans and takes steps for if HE dies. But he never once brings up Byleth’s possible death. I think, in his mind, while he OBJECTIVELY knows it’s a possibility, he never once registered it as something that could legitimately happen. For him, Byleth’s death is a far off thing that’s going to happen LONG after he’s gone. He’s taking steps to ensure Byleth has a long and happy life. He’s giving them his wife’s wedding ring, the only other memento he has of her, so they can start finding their own happiness and setting up their own life. These aren’t the actions of a man ready to lose his child at all.

So when the war happens, and Byleth is lost, he’s devastated. 

He’s probably not worried at first, because it’s a battle and Byleth is strong and they’ve probably just been delayed in their escape. They’ll be here soon. The safe spot is good for days.

Then a week passes.

Then two.

It’s not safe to stay in this spot anymore, and Byleth still isn’t here, and there’s a pit forming in his stomach, and his men are starting to think it’s maybe time to tell their bass that there MIGHT be a possibility that maybe, if it’s been this long, their kid ain’t coming back. But no one wants to outright SAY it because, well, how do you tell a man his only child might have been killed?

They’re forced to flee, after a while, because with Imperials marching everywhere and looking for enemies it’s just not safe to stay in one spot for too long. So they run.

As time goes by, Jeralt is starting to think his kid may not be coming back.

Jeralt isn’t an emotional man. He’s always had trouble expressing his feelings. He’s not the type to burst into tears, or plan a wedding the moment someone he knows starts liking someone else. Jeralt is made of quite things, quite moments. He’s the warm hand on your head, the cup of morning coffee that gets you through the day, the small and proud smile when you win, and the shoulder to cry on when you lose. He’s a quite parent that’s quietly supportive and honest when you need him to be.

But when he realizes Byleth isn’t coming back, he cries. It’s not loud sobbing, but a stream of quite, steady, tears that roll down his face. He doesn’t do it in front of his men, he waits until he’s alone, sitting on a rock and facing away from their direction, and he whips them away before he goes back to them. 

(He didn’t need to. His eyes are red. They know. But they’re gracious enough not to comment)

He goes back to try and find the body, when it’s safe, but he never does. And it’s that just cruel? First life takes his kid and now he can’t even bury them. He at least got to bury his wife.

Jeralt decides that, if he can’t even bury the body, than he might as well try to do something Byleth would want him to do, since they’re not here anymore. He’s lived twenty years protecting Byleth, he can spend the rest of his years fighting for the life they’d have lived. The only thing he can think of is protecting those students of theirs, so he heads towards Faerghus.

What he finds is a damn mess.

The King Regent has been assassinated, and now Cornelia is in charge, and Dimitri was supposedly killed. Half the country is sworn to the Empire and the other half is putting up a resistance. Jeralt sighs heavily and points his men toward the resistance, where he thinks Byleth’s students would be set up. He’s pretty sure the two lords in charge of it are parents of her students.

He’s welcomed by Rodrigue with a sad smile. Rodrigue knows what it’s like to lose a child (and, oh, what pain that causes. It swallows you whole. And nothing makes it better. You can tell yourself they died for something good, that they died right, but that only makes your other child hate you), and he’s very sympathetic. He wouldn’t have said no to the extra forces even if Jeralt wasn’t there, but his heart is soft for another parent that’s known such loss.

Jeralt serves as both a tactical adviser and a captain for his forces. He also helps Rodrigue and Gustav try to track Dimitri (Byelth had really liked that kid, he remembers. Byleth had mentioned him a few times, anyway, which was a lot for them, so Jeralt figures there must have been a lot of fondness there. He doesn’t have the whole story, and now he kinda wishes he did so he’d have something to say, but he’ll have to contend with trying to find the kid), but the kid is slippery as and eel and good at staying hidden. Jeralt is honestly impressed that the kid is so good at surviving when the entire Empire is hunting him down. Even HE can’t find the kid and he’s good at his job.

He tries to take care of the other students in the meantime. He tries to visit them when he can, check up on them, make sure they’re healthy. It’s what Byleth would want. And, to be honest, he’s growing quite fond of them himself. Annette is a sweet girl, and so is Mercedes. And Ashe is a good kid that he can see going far. Felix is intense, but Jeralt knows deep down he cares a lot, maybe too much, and he’s just guarding his heart. Sylvain he keeps out of trouble too, because he seems to find it a lot. And, really, they don’t fill the hole Byleth left behind, but they numb it for a bit and that’s the best he can ask for.

He never gets over Byleth’s death, and the lack of funeral, but he’s able to at least live a meaningful life for them. That’s not enough, but it’s something.

Then, one day, Rodrigue comes to him with a letter from the Alliance.

Byleth is alive.

Byleth is ALIVE.

His child is alive.

Claude wrote out all the details from his “reliable source I have in Enbarr”. Byleth was captured in the battle five years ago after falling off a cliff and being knocked unconscious. They’ve been held in solitary confinement in the top of a tower in Enbarr for the last five years. The reasons no announcement from the Empire has been made is because Edelgard is keeping them as her personal prisoner and not a political one, and the reason his spies haven’t found out about this sooner is because Byleth is confined to that single room with no access to the outside world, no windows to spy through, and no one but the most trusted staff allowed within a tower full of traps and mazes. Apparently, according to Claude, only Edelgard’s inner circle are even allowed to deliver meals.

Jeralt is...livid to say the least.

Rodrigue is barely a third of the way through the letter, reading it to a horrified council, when Jeralt slams his hands on the table and throws himself up, knocking back his chair. He’s marching out the room in moments. When Rodrigue asks where he’s going he just gruffly and furiously spits out, “Enbarr.”

It takes all of Rodrigues power to stop him, furiously chasing after the enraged man and trying to talk reasons and sense into him. Telling him that he can’t go alone or he’ll die, and that they need to increase their army, and that Gustav found another lead on Dimitri so give them time to get him, and the Alliance and they could combine forces, and they’ve gotten into contact with Seteth recently so they could gather the remaining Knights of Seiros. The’ll rescue Byleth, that will be a top priority, but they need TIME and FORCES.

Jeralt is not having it. He argues back. That’s his KID in there, trapped like some sort of...of...of PET. They’ve been stuck there for YEARS while he’s been wasting time. And you wouldn’t be so calm if that were GLENN.

A silence falls over them, and Jeralt realizes he’s made a terrible mistake.

He sighs, rubbing his forehead. He knows that was uncalled for. That was massively uncalled for. He says that, and he apologies. But Rodrigue shakes his head, saying he’s right, if that were Glenn he’d be acting like this too, and there’s no need to apologize, and he’s heard worse from Felix anyway (and Jeralt should really get those two to actually sit down and TALK sometime before it’s too late). Jeralt says that there is, because Rodrigue is right, he can’t get Byleth out on his own. It’s just...that’s his KID. That’s his kid and he thought they were DEAD and now they’re ALIVE and they’re being kept as a PET away from them and he can’t stand it.

Rodrigue puts his hands on Jeralt’s shoulders and promises that they’re going to get Byleth back. That it will be one of the first things they do. He swears his life on it.

Jeralt nods and says the same about Dimitri.

Turns out, Rodrigue was right to stop him, because a few weeks later they’re at Garreg Mach, and both Byleth AND Dimitri are there, showing up together like ghosts returning from the dead.

And, shit, both kids have had a rough time of it. Dimitri is half mad and feral from being hunted in the woods for five years, and some clearly unresolved issues have only made him worse than ever. And he’s glad that Rodrigue is still holding up the front in Faerghus because he doesn’t want him to see his kid like this.

Byleth isn’t much better. They’re not half mad like Dimitri, but captivity wasn’t a good look on them. They’re wearing Empire Red silks and they’re pale as a ghost. They can’t stand outside too long without turning pink as a big, but they can’t stand to stay inside either. They won’t even sleep in their room anymore, taking up a spot in the chapel. And Dimitri is always standing by them too, half mad but ready to skewer people at a moment’s notice if Byleth asks it. 

It’s...hard for him to see his kid like that.

He can’t huge his kid for too long anymore, because they don’t like feeling trapped. So even though he wants to hold them tight and never let go, he has to let go quickly or they’ll start to panic, and that will set Dimitri off, and he’s like a guard dog as it is.

Most nights Jeralt sleeps in the chapel with Dimitri and Byleth (though he has yet to see Dimitri actually sleep. It’s more like he just stands there, looming over everything. It’s unnerving, downright disturbing, and Jeralt is legitimately worried that Dimitri may have trained himself to sleep standing up or something. Or worse, not sleep at all. It explains why he’s gone mad for damn sure, and he makes a not to try and pump Chamomile in that kid and try to get him a nap because maybe that’ll help calm him down. It helps Byleth get to sleep these days. Lavender and Chamomile. And him being there). Byleth doesn’t really wake up screaming from nightmares, but when they do wake up they always end up panicking for a moment before looking around, making sure there’s sunlight and a place to escape. It breaks his damn heart.

He has to help Byelth get used to sunlight again. They need limited time, even though all they seem to want to do most days is lay in the grass. He has to herd them back in though, before they’re burned. But every day they get a little more time. It’s slow going, but he thinks it helps. 

Still, he can’t help but hate Edelgard. He has his kid back, but Goddess above, look at them. Dimitri and Byleth are both a wreck at best, and he and the others have to take care of them and get them back on their feet for the battles ahead (which is hard, because Dimitri only listens to Byleth, and sometimes even that isn’t reliable if he gets too lost on the battlefield. Still, it looks like for the most part Byleth has got Dimitri’s recovery in their hands, and Jeralt has Byleth’s so it’s FINE).

When the day comes, he’ll kill that Edelgard woman himself if she even looks at Byleth wrong. He’s going to destroy that tower and scatter it’s stone across the seas. 

He’s going to help these kids get better, and rub it in the world’s face. He’ll look every god in the eye and spit in their face before he lets anything bad happen to them ever again.

#fe3h #Dimileth #Captive AU #jeralt eisner #byleth eisner #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #rodrigue fraldarius #I didn't know I needed Rodrigue and Jeralt friendship until I started writing it #Now it's my brotp #Rodrigue and Jeralt BroTP #asks #fe16 #Fire Emblem Three Houses #jeralt is a good dad

[silvanils]

“Don’t shut me out like this.”

a prompt fill for @nirnwrote​ 

Pairing: Martin x Felix Rating: T Content Warnings: suggestive themes, disassociation, no graphic details

I have some thoughts about Felix and Martin both being somewhat aware of what their fates will be... or possibly getting caught up in old memories after their story has ended? Either way, they try to enjoy the good moments.

The embers have gone low in the hearth, and as the fire slowly dies the chill from outside creeps in, slowly settling deep in his bones. He feels Martin shift a little, rolling closer to him, but the movement pulls another draft under their shared covers and Felix can’t help but shiver as the cold air brushes over his sweat-dampened skin.

But then Martin’s arm drapes around him, and his warm hand brushes over his chest in such a way that the cold is all-but banished. He feels Martin kiss his shoulder, and — on some level it does feel good. Felix can feel his body warming up, reacting to his lover’s sweet, soft touches, but… it’s distant, somehow, as if he’s not really there.

He swallows hard, shuts his eyes, hopes that the feeling will just pass but it doesn’t, and suddenly there’s dampness on his face as well… and Martin stops what he’s doing to sit up a little, leans over Felix to cup his cheeks with both of his hands.

So warm. Why are they so warm?

“You’re clammy,” Martin says, his voice concerned. “Are you unwell?”

Felix shakes his head, but all he can see are the endless fields of ash and blood he’s been crawling through, over and over and over… and he was never well to begin with, but he’s been through horrors that would drive even a sane man mad.

“Felix,” Martin says. “Don’t shut me out like this. Look at me. Please.”

He makes himself open his eyes, inhales slowly as he meets Martin’s sharp gaze. Even in the dim light, his eyes are the most beautiful shade of blue, like the morning sky. And Felix can’t say he’s fine without lying, but he can reach up to thread his fingers through Martin’s loose, curly hair and tug him down into a desperate kiss.

“Don’t stop again,” Felix whispers. “I need this. Need you. Even if I can't…”

Martin sighs, and Felix can sense his mild disapproval — but he leans in to press their lips together, and his too-warm hands are running down his body again, stoking the flames between them back to life.

And Felix silently prays that this time, the fire won’t die at all.

#elder scrolls #oblivion #martin x hero of kvatch #martin x male hero of kvatch #;follyshipping #;Martin/Felix #;knight writes