Byleth, Making Excuses

Thank you so much for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse ! This one was super fun to write, so I hope you like it!

Summary: Byleth had been making some… questionable choices with his teaching methods as of late, to the point that managed to make Seteth lose his cool. However, there was nothing Byleth could not see after a Pulse or ten…

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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The Imperial Year was 1180, Garreg Mach Monastery. Classes were in full swing now that the students have gotten used to their teachers and assignments.

Bonds were being formed, friendships were blossoming. New skills were sharpened every single day.

Yes, new skills.

However, one could wonder why some of these skills were being taught to students with no potential nor aptitude to make full use of them at a particular House: the Golden Deer, whose professor was none other than the newbie teacher hired on a seemingly whim by the Archbishop: Byleth.

The sound of heavy steps against the polished marble echoed as someone approached the Archbishop’s study.

“Rhea!” Seteth opened the door, forgetting about decorum or common courtesy, really. He huffed, quickly making his way to Rhea’s desk.

“Seteth?” She widened her eyes, surprised to see him display so much emotion to the point of even forgetting to call her by her title instead of her name. “What’s happened? Is it serious?” She made motion to get up, as Seteth was one of the most put-together people she had by her side.

So, if he looked that shaken, something terrible must have transpired.

He banged both hands on her desk, exasperated. “Rhea, you must- you have to control that little favorite teacher of yours! He’s- he’s- ugh,” he put one hand behind his neck as his blood pressure rose.

That made Rhea fully get up, startled with the mention of Byleth. “What happened to him? Is he alright?” She circled her desk to go to the door right way.

“He’s more than alright; too alright, in fact, that he’s messing around with the students’ schedules!” He pressed his temple with the remaining hand, still with his head hung back as he held his neck.

“That child did? Impossible. He is not the kind to do that.” Rhea tilted her head to the side, her shoulders sagging as the tension left her body.

“You don’t understand,” Seteth snapped his head to Rhea. “We’ve tested all of the students before they enrolled and documented all of their strong and weak points, as you are well aware.” he said and she nodded with a frown, wondering where he was going with all that. “Professor Byleth just- he ignored all of that! And he’s fooling around with the students’ potential for growth. This is unacceptable, Rhea. No, Archbishop. We cannot have this happen right during the year all heirs of the three countries of Fódlan are enrolled!”

Rhea crossed her arms, still finding it hard to believe.”Seteth, I need more than an emotional explosion to cue me into taking action…”

“It’s not- ugh,” Seteth took a deep breath. “Alright, I might have been a little emotional about the situation, but it IS unacceptable, Rhea. Will you come with me? They are in the middle of class right now so I can show you what is happening right away.”

“Very well. Seeing as this seems serious enough for you to lose your composure like that, there was no way I would not accompany you. But I will still need convincing to believe that that child is ‘fooling around’ with the students as you said.”

“Yes, yes,” Seteth bobbed his head to the side with a hint of annoyance. “Byleth is your protegé for a reason you cannot share, but you cannot protect him after this, I assure you.”

Rhea straightened her back as Seteth led the way. “After you.”

At the Golden Deer training ground, one could see many students doing their best with their assigned jobs.

There were some practicing white or black magic, some learning how to ride, others how to mount, some sweating under heavy armor and others hitting a training dummy with martial arts. From a distance, it looked like an ordinary arrangement — after all, if one wanted to cover all bases, there was a need to train a wide range of classes considering their aptitudes.

Yes, considering their aptitudes.

Once one approached more, it was plain to see that there was something… unique about the class arrangement.

“Pr-professor…” Lorenz huffed as his noodle-like, white arms shone under the sun and all the sweat poured out of him. “I s-still fail to see h-how this will, ah, a moment for a breath, please.” He raised one palm and lowered his head to take a breather.

“It’s not break time yet, Lorenz. Keep punching that bag,” Byleth said dryly, not even looking up from his little notebook as the noble of the roses was getting as red as one from all the physical exercise he was forced to do.

“B-but-”

“Professor! This is insanity! I can’t thrust this lance one thousand times! I can’t even do it three times!” Lysithea complained from the other side.

“Well, at least you’re not forced to learn MAGIC,” Leonie complained from a desk under the shade, envying the people doing physical stuff.

“Well, I would RATHER be doing that.” Lysithea shot back under bated breath.

“Now, now, back to the assignments I gave you all.” Byleth snapped his fingers to call for attention, still looking down at his notebook indifferently.

A round of whines sounded from the disgruntled students. Even Marianne groaned loudly under all that heavy armor she was forced to wear.She rather envied how Ignatz was learning how to mount a wyvern even though the boy himself feared the beast would munch down on his head if he fell down on its foot one more time.

Claude and Hilda had their heads in their hands as they tried to figure out how white magic worked, so they didn’t even have the mental capacity to complain.

From afar, it looked like an ordinary class, indeed.

However, if one looked just a smidge closer, the pandemonium would be revealed.

Seteth pointed with a grave expression, then crossed his arms. “See? See?! He’s wasting all of their potential!”

“Hmm… It does look rather odd.” Rhea took one finger to her chin in thought. “Let us approach, shall we? I would rather we do not jump to conclusions.”

“Jump to conclusions?!” Seteth threw his hands in the air. “Look at the students’ morale! We will be lucky if only one of them graduates this year if this keeps up.”

“Still,” Rhea said, looking from Seteth to Byleth. “Ah, our eyes met. He will approach now.” Rhea motioned for Byleth to come over, so the Professor obliged.

He looked at something in the air for a split second before heading to where the Archbishop was, but it was such a natural movement one usually wouldn’t be able to catch it.

“Good afternoon, Archbishop, Seteth.” Byleth nodded to either of them with his usual poker face. He held a small notebook in one hand and the feather pen he was using in the other.

“Hello, child,” Rhea greeted with a warm smile. “It has come to my attention,” she glanced at the fuming Seteth beside her, “ that your students have a… rather particular training regimen as of late.”

“Yes?” Byleth replied with a shrug, bringing his notebook to his chest.

Rhea opened her mouth to reply, but Seteth had lost the last of his patience.

“Please, explain yourself, Professor Byleth! You are wasting all of your students’ potential with this so-called teaching plan!”

Byleth calmly looked from Rhea to Seteth, then down to his notebook.

He snapped it open.

“Do you know the amount of damage and the percentage of success of a magical attack coming from a 45º angle towards an unit with less than fourteen points of resistance, who is hiding behind a pillar and is armed with a pair of steel gauntlets?”

…

“… Professor Byleth, I am not asking for a lecture-” Seteth barely recovered from the sudden question, but Byleth was only getting started.

“Let me tell you: it’s a whole lot. They will die if their bare skin is even grazed by the magical attack. Low resistance is shit — ah, pardon my french, Archbishop.”

“French…?” Rhea tilted her head to the side, her eyes glistening with interest but also a little befuddlement. 

“I need those three to train their magical resistance by opening their mana channel in their brains,” Byleth pointed at Claude, Hilda and Leonie, who had dark clouds over their heads trying to understand the magic books in front of them.

“Also, do you know how dope it is to have a flying archer? Ignatz will be fine with that wyvern, I’m sure it hasn’t eaten a human in the past decade or so, so it’s probably safe. I mean, you wouldn’t offer the students a feral mount, would you?” 

“Of course not.” Rhea replied immediately, already roped into Byleth’s speech.

Seteth remained stunned by the answers Byleth had at the ready, as though he had had this conversation before and prepared them for this.

“But-”

Byleth ignored Seteth’s raised index for an interjection and continued his speech. “Have you any idea how frail mages are? We must prepare the students for any situation, even the ones where they will be forced into hand to hand combat with the enemies should their mana run out in the middle of the battlefield. Lorenz will live. He’s passed out for now, but once he builds a bit more muscle, he’ll get used to the regimen.”

Rhea’s eyes shone more and more with each word Byleth uttered.

“Marianne needs the extra defense she’ll get once she get promoted to Great Knight five years from now…”

“Excuse me? How long did you say?” Rhea took a step closer as Nyleth mumbled the last part.

“Ah, don’t mind me. As I was saying, Lysithea is training with all melee weapons to upgrade her stamina, definitely not to make her into a knight down the line,” he spoke quickly with the straightest face a man could wear. “And I finally found a horse big enough to support Raphael’s muscles, which is good. What if he gets stranded in the middle of battle with an injured ally and the fastest way to get help is through a horse? We must prepare them for everything.”

“Of course.” Rhea ate it all up with a bright smile, nodding as more and more nonsense came out of Byleth’s mouth. “You truly are wise beyond your years, child. I wonder what that could mean…”

Byleth looked over Rhea’s shoulders to nowhere in particular, but somehow it felt like he was looking straight at the eyes of someone who was reading a story about what was happening to them at that very moment.

“Indeed, I wonder what it all means.” He flashed a rare smile without breaking eye contact with the surprised reader.

Seteth groaned beside Rhea, holding back the urge to mess his own hair in agony. 

It was all bulshit! It was clear! There was not a single thought passing inside that man’s head, it was blatant to see!!

Seteth couldn’t voice his thoughts as Rhea was more and more fascinated by the bulshit Byeth said, so he just held his nape as his blood pressure rose.

Of course it’s all bulshit, Byleth thought, reading the passage through Sothis’ eyes as the reader gasped in wonder. I really just wanted to do a meme run, you know. Imagine how hilarious it would be, he grinned as Rhea asked more questions about the reasons he made up after Pulsing that last hour a few times to get it all right.

The usually stoic man managed to hold back his snort as he saw Seteth in agony behind the amused Rhea. But as that was the final Pulse he had used that day, all of the answers had to be perfect for him to be able to have free reins over the students without any interruptions for the next few months. Afterwards, it would be up to them to train on their own so he could have an army oof mismatches later down the line…

Yep, now it was only a matter of time until he could stick Lorenz into that ridiculous Grappler outfit and hide Marianne inside the oversized Fortress Knight armor.

How hilarious would Claude look as a Priest, could you imagine? And how clueless Hilda would be at the Gremory class?

Byleth would hardly wait for them all to do their bests so he could at least have a few laughs in this endlessly repeating life of his.

Robin, being Fondled

Thank you so much for the support as always @xpegasusuniverse ! This was so much fun to work on I think <I> pulled a muscle xD

Summary: Still feeling wronged about the whole affair between Sully, him and Robin, Vaike went to seek professional help to straighten up the score of… male beauty standards in the Shpherds, much to Robin’s chagrin.

Commission info HEREandHERE!

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After going through many pains for a whole week to be able to bury the source of the sudden interest of the soldiers in bird-watching, Robin had finally started to feel at ease at the Shepherds barracks.

There was no more need to keep his ears keen on any gossip floating around nor any need for a, let’s say ‘healthy’, dose of Thoron to Vaike’s head to stop him from babbling nonsense from time to time. Robin was just about able to stop being so on edge and walk comfortably around the palace.

It was hard to stop Frederick of all people from learning about the whole affair, though. The man was like an old harpy whenever the issue concerned Chrom, Lissa or the Shepherds. Thankfully, Chrom’s name had never been mentioned so it was easier — or rather, less difficult — to bury it from the knight’s view.

Rolling his stiff shoulder and patting himself on the back, Robin walked into the conference room as per usual, cracking his neck to dissipate any remaining tension.

“Robin, you’re here.” Chrom greeted from his seat, his eyes never leaving the pile of papers in front of him.

Since his reign was still young, there were many, many, manythings they’d all need to look over, not to mention the reparations for the previous war and the relief for the most affected areas and…

Anyway, they were always neck-deep in work, so they basically just lived in that conference room lately. The dark bags under Chrom’s eyes were threatening to stay there forever, to the point that Frederick sometimes mumbled something about finding a better skin routine to smooth out his liege’s “perfect skin”, in his own words.

To be honest, the only one in the room who looked fit enough to keep doing these long work hours for an undetermined amount of time was Frederick himself, but only a few could ever question or match the man’s body fitness.

Regardless, as Robin took his seat and Chrom started the meeting with the arrival of other ministers, they busied themselves with work. As an escort, Frederick stood behind Chrom’s desk at all times, which allowed him to not only listen to what was being said inside the room as well as what happened outside.

Two hours after the start of the meeting, Frederick heard the sound of someone quickly stomping towards them, but since his priority was the Exalt, he placed one hand on Chrom’s shoulder and focused on the door with a keen eye.

A moment after, the person who barged into the room was none other than ‘the Vaike’ himself.

“I’ve an object!” He yelled atop of his lungs, rather proud of himself for saying ‘objection’ perfectly.

With the theme of the meeting so fresh in his mind, Robin hadn’t made the connection of Vaike and trouble yet, so he just sighed deeply like a deflated balloon. “What’re you doing here-”

Chrom unceremoniously dug himself in his chair, 100% done with this. “Vaike, for the last time-”

“Oy oy, you’re not listenin’ to me! I said I’ve an object!” He pounded his chest, then, as if that reminded him of something, he exclaimed, “oh, wait, I brought someone, too!” and stepped out of the room for a moment before coming right back while pulling a stuck-up looking man.

At that point, Chrom was already dragging his hands across his face, his dead eyes begging for someone to take Vaike away from there. “And who might that gentleman be…?” he asked with no strength in his voice.

“He’s a professional pervert!”

“Pbbbht-” Robin sputtered, coughed and hid himself under his cloak.

With no change in his expression, Chrom looked at Frederick under his hands. Just as the knight was about to execute- ahem, execute the order, of course, the noble adjusted himself, straightening his monocle.

“Ahem, I’ll thank you for referring to me as the sommelier of male bosoms, Jadon Bellomo.” The man called Jadon took a step away from Vaike and looked at Chrom with utmost respect. “At your service, Your Majesty,” he bowed gracefully.

Male-

Male bosoms-

Robin’s stiffened laughter stopped immediately, being replaced by dread in the blink of an eye.

What was Vaike thinking now?! Wasn’t it enough to- to call him names in front of all the soldiers?!

The tactician hid under his hood, biting his nail in anguish.

“Yeah, basically a professional pervert. Anyway!” Vaike once again hit his own chest. “I brought him ‘ere ‘cause I’ve been slaughtered! Slammered… Uh, something like that. And I gotta protect my tits’ honor.”

“Pbbbbth-” Now it was Chrom’s turn to sputter. “What’re you talking about in a formal meeting, Vaike-”

“My Lord, if I may speak on the behalf of your lesser brained companion…” Lord Bellomo stepped in front of Vaike.

“I’m failing to see how that might clear any of this up in the near future, but go on, Lord Bellomo.” Chrom sank back into his chair.

“Chrom, I don’t think this is gonna be a good idea, no matter how eloquent this man is.” Robin whispered beside the Exalt, quickly thinking of a few hundred ways of silent assassination in a room full of people.

“Thank you for the opportunity, my Lord.” Bellomo bowed respectfully again. “As the good Sir was saying, I believe his integrity as a man of muscle has been slandered in the face of recent events.”

“Recent events?” Chrom murmured to Robin and Frederick, in which only one of whom looked clueless about it all.

“It’s… probably nothing. You know how Vaike is.” Robin stammered, digging his nails on the chair.

“Fair.” Chrom bobbed his head to the side, turning back his attention to Bellomo.

Though Vaike took that whispering as a cue to intervene. “Yeah! I’m not gonna lie down and let Sully smack talk my tits.” He hit his (bare) chest for the thousandth time since arriving. “So, I brought in an expert to settle this once and for all. This guy right here is a professional pervert.”

Once again Bellomo sighed. “Sir Vaike, I would politely ask that you refrain from referring to myself and my field of expertise in such a crass, undignified manner. I am Ylisse’s foremost and acclaimed judge of all competitions of the male physique, as I’m sure Your Majesty knows,” he bowed once again to Chrom, who looked like a mix of being in the middle of throwing up and holding back a sneeze. “With my particular area of expertise being the male bosom. I am not a base, lowly pervert, but a connoisseur of the male form!” He shouted passionately. “And what Sir Vaike brought before me was nothing but an opportunity! To be able to judge and be beholden to the Shepherds’ very own physique, the same Shepherds who brought us victory in this most recent war!! Oh, what a glorious sight that might be!!”

“This is nonsense.” Chrom blurted out immediately, but Frederick managed to kick his chair just in time so no one but Robin heard it. After all, it was unbecoming for a leader to dismiss their subject’s work of passion like that.

“I agree, uh-huh, total nonsense. We should turn them away.” Robin immediately went back to hiding under a random paper he found in front of him, sinking a bit deeper into his chair so Vaike wouldn’t look his way.

“Frederick, why’d you do that-” Chrom nodded at Robin before scowling at the kick, but Bellomo’s passionate discourse about the male bosom was in full swing in front of them. “Besides, why did he say that I might know of it? It’s the first time I hear of this debauchery!”

Right on cue, Bellomo’s chanting turned back to Chrom. “Oh, but it was by the grace of the previous Exalt, Lady Emmeryn — Naga bless her soul — that my colleagues and I were able to set up a bodybuilding recreation site! By her magnanimously generous heart, we have been going strong for three years and counting!”

“Emm… Emm approved of that?” Chrom squeaked, aghast.

Frederick nodded behind him. “Lady Emmeryn wanted the people to be able to freely express themselves, so there are many recreational activities that carry the Exalt’s seal of approval.”

Feeling somehow embarrassed, Chrom hid his face under both hands. “I see,” his voice sounded muffled. No doubt the papers detailing those activities and more would be buried in that very same conference room. Since the ascension was done hastily due to the war, many of such, ah, trivial matters were put aside in favor of the more urgent ones.

“Still, I don’t think now’s the time for this,” Robin urged Chrom, not wanting the mention of Emmeryn to make his resolve falter.

“Yes, of course,” Chrom slowly recovered from the shame and cleared his throat to address the passionate man in front of them. “Although I understand where you’re coming from, Lord Bellomo, I’m afraid now isn’t really the time for-”

“Ohoho, now I get it. Ya’ll whispering and hiding like that cause you’re scared, right.” Vaike interrupted the Exalt in his speech, something no one in their right mind should do if they had any ounce of respect for their leaders. Alas, it was The Vaike we were talking about, after all.

Ticked off, Chrom’s eyebrow twitched. “What ARE you talking about, Vaike?”

“Hah, you know what I’m talkin’ about! If we went tit-to-tit, you KNOW my tits would win!” He slammed the table confidently. “Sully’s stubborn like a bull so I had to bring mister pervert here to prove my tits’ worth, but you sound more like a chicken running from a challenge than anything!”

Oh no. Oh no nonono, that’s not good. Sirens blared inside Robin’s head. If Vaike spurred Chrom’s competitive spirit like that…

A vein popped in Chrom’s forehead. “That’s ridiculous, Vaike.” He clenched his teeth as he slowly got up.

“Shit, wait, Chrom, let’s think of this better-” Sensing the worst, Robin quickly tried to placate his stupid best friend.

“Aha, almost didn’t see ya there, mister tactitcian!” Vaike pointed at Robin, who flinched a foot out of the floor and hid behind Chrom. “I ain’t letting you take the crown this time, nu-huh! My tits will win no matter what!”

“Tact- what-” Chrom’s fighting spirit dampened for a moment after hearing that terrible pun, but he had no time to look back at his friend as Vaike ran up to his personal space with that smug and irritating face of his.

“So, meet ya there? Tit-by-tit, we’ll see who has the best rack in the Shepherds.”

The veins multiplied in Chrom’s forehead. “You’re on. Lord Bellomo, you have full authority to prepare for this event.” He ordered without taking his eyes off Vaike’s, his fighting spirit rekindled.

“NO, nooo!” Robin wailed silently behind the two, holding his head in despair.

There was no way to cover up THAT mess.

The news that there would be a recreational competition to judge the male Shepherds’ chests spread around the castle like wildfire.

Lissa pulled a muscle laughing when she first heard of it and pulled it several times again whenever she remembered about it — though she was ultimately forbidden to attend due to being a young unmarried woman and a princess (something she would definitely NOT be laughing at in the future).

Although these kinds of competitions held by Lord Bellomo were open for all genders and ages (in his words, it was a ‘sin to hide such a beauty from the world at large’), since this one meddled intimately with the royal affairs, only men or fellow soldiers would be able to watch.

The soldiers and maidservants all around started placing bets on who would win and what the criteria of choosing the winner would be. Men from high and low all over the castle huddled themselves in the courtyard for the examination, and even though he would rather be listening to Gangrel’s morbid jokes, Robin had been dragged by the others to stay right next to Chrom in the top of the line.

Even Donnel and Ricken tried to enter the competition, but Lord Bellomo expressly said that they were too young to participate, which brought the short mage much shame as he ran away without even seeing the results.

Although reluctantly, even Frederick was participating, if only to stay beside Chrom who stood there, shirtless among all of the other soldiers in wait for Bellomo to judge them.

Robin never once took his face out of both of his hands in his shame. His neck, shoulders and ears were bright red and the less said about his tits-CHEST, chest, damn it all! The less said about his chest, the better! Why was he dragged out like that? He was a desk man, he wasn’t a strong soldier!

Why were they even discussing tits- CHESTS, why were they even… Oh Naga, help them all!

Vaike nudged Chrom as the head of the line. “Ey, nervous about how everyone’s gonna know my tits are better than yours?”

“Keep dreaming, Vaaike. Focus on the judge.” Chrom shrugged, overlooking the term as he usually wouldn’t, too fired up in the mood to care.

“I wonder how they decide such things…” Stahl made a one-off comment from behind them, looking over them to the judges.

“Oh, that’s a good question,” someone replied beside him just as Lord Bellomo approached.

“Indeed, a great question, Sir Stahl.” Lord Bellomo arrived with a measuring tape. “After all, I do not simply judge the size of a man’s bosom. If that were the case, all the Shepherds would need was a measuring tape,” he dangled the item in his hand, “and that would be it. Size is but one of many factors to be taken into account when evaluating a man’s chest, and some of these criteria may require a physical examination.”

Robin shuddered at the thought as the men all around said ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ in different degrees.

“So wait, you wanna cop a feel of my tits?” Vaike turned to the noble man who sighed.

“Must you use such crass, foul language when speaking of my profession, sir Vaike?” He took off the silky gloves he was wearing.

Wait… was he going to perform the examination… bare-handed?!

Robin covered his chest with both hands.

Seeing Bellom approach, Vaike put both hands behind his head with a huge grin. “Hey, I don’t mind. Feel ‘em up all you want.” He even shook either breast at intervals a bit, making them jiggle in a rhythm.

“That’s it, I’m going to die. I die today. Today is the day I die.” Robin murmured as he watched Lord Bellomo approach. “Why did this happen to me? I was just going to take a dip in the fountain. Why me? Should I have just waited until night? But I was hot so I went for a dip? Was it my mistake?” He went over and over the scenarios trying to see where he went wrong. “Maybe it was because I didn’t see Sully there? Or even if she hadn’t been there, Vaike would still…”

Robin probably passed out standing up as a defense mechanism. He barely remembered everything that happened that day, especially not when Lord Bellomo spent a good five minutes just fondling him and even pinching his nipples- YES, he especially did NOT remember that.

He did not remember it. Thus, it did not happen.

Yes, indeed. Nothing about that happened.

Nothing at all. Nuh-huh.

Not even how Libra looked weirdly amused by being in this masculine type of activity. Or how Virion was absent due to family matters and by the gods how Robin envied them right about then-

“Oh, but this is the most glorious and beautiful collection of male breasts I have ever had the pleasure of seeing!”

“And feeling…” Robin murmured, holding his shirt tightly against his chest as Bellomo said his farewell speech.

“I am ever so thankful to be able to be the host of such an enlightening event, and I would like to first and foremost thank our magnanimous ruler-”

“Enough with the big words! Who had the best tits, mister? Out with it!” Vaike yelled from the audience, making Bellomo click his tongue and sigh.

“Oh, very well. I Must say that it was a very difficult decision, especially with the arrival of our late friend over there- oh, where did he go?”

“I’m over here…” A muffled voice heard from somewhere but nowhere in particular sounded, but no one seemed to notice.

“Welp, hopefully our friend returns, as he surely had a wonderful pair of breasts.”

“Kill me… Kill. me. Kill… me.” Robin chanted under his breath.

“With no further ado, I will proudly hand this sash to the big winner: Sir Frederick!” Lord Bellomo approached the tall and bulky man, giving him a sash that read ‘best tits of Ylisse’ in bold colors. “Second, will Sir Kellam step up? Your late arrival was a game changer, my good sir…” Bellomo looked around and only after a few moments did he see Kellam standing right in front of him. “There you are, my good sir. Congratulations on your fine set of breasts.”

“Um, thanks? I was here the whole time though-”

“And last but not least, I would like our genius tactician to step up-”

“No. No. Not me. I’m sure there’s another tactician-” Robin covered his head with both hands.

“Haha, don’t be such a spoilsport, Robin.” Frederick smiled from ear to ear, apparently extremely pleased to have won despite being grumpy about this whole affair the entire time. “Come now, the podium is right over here.” The huge knight needed but to nudge the short tactician so he could come up front and receive a pin right over his chest that read “Ylisse’s #3 tits” and die immediately.

His soul had been in the process of leaving his body ever since the whole ordeal started, but now it definitely just finished the process.

His body was now but a shadow of what it had once been.

Vaike yelling complaints and Chrom suddenly being embarrassed by his impulsiveness around Robin did nothing to erase the utter and deep shame that overcame the man. He felt alone in the entire world where nothing but tits- CHESTS, damn it all, chests! Where nothing but male tits- ugh… mattered anymore.

Could he ever recover? Especially with how Frederick seemed to be intent on wearing his sash for a few weeks after this? Would he ever be the same man after being fondled in front of so many people?

Right, today was the day he died. Yes. Much better to accept it like that.

Here lies Robin, the genius tactitcian of Ylisse.

Nightmares and Comfort

Thanks for the support, nonnies! I hope you like it~

Summary: Thirst had always been a great protector of his teammates at Rhodes Island Operatives. Due to feeling responsible for the death of his one and only friend, Thirst could never allow anyone to feel hurt again… What he never considered, was how HE would feel with all of that, and the Doctor was the only one who could help…

Watch out for sin, ye who enters!

Commission info HEREandHERE!

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The deafening sound of rain.

Pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter patter…

The rain, endlessly falling.

Holding onto a body that grew increasingly colder with every passing second, his own breathing seemed to be made of ice.

His mouth was speaking, but there was no way for his mind to know what it was. Amidst his own sobs and shaking body, his eyes and brain were all focused on the man whose life ebbed away in his arms.

Yet, surprisingly, the man whose visage was all but blurred by rain and tears, seemed calmer than ever.

As if the hold death had on him was something he welcomed. As if he had joined that mission with this specific goal in mind.

Was it true? Did he anticipate his own death? Was that why there was no way to remember how he looked at that time?

Yet, no matter how foggy his memory of that day was, the words spoken to him at that time, the words whose weight dictated how he would live his life thereafter… they were clear as day.

It was as if all sound stopped just so his voice could be heard.

“Go without me.”

Time fell still.

Starting from the pallid lips who had uttered the second and last command he would ever hear, black crystals started spreading throughout the man’s face and neck.

Watching this with horror, Thirst let go of his old time friend and companion as if he had been touched by something vile.

“No… No!” Finally did he hear his own voice as it gnawed in his throat. “This.. it- it wasn’t like this…!” He whimpered, scurrying away from the body that bulged out and convulsed as it was beset by the Infection.

Thirst’s body shook violently as he tried to tear his gaze away from the horrid scene of his friend’s body being consumed by Oripathy. He held his head with both hands, covering his ears so they wouldn’t pick up the sound of flesh melting and disintegrating.

“It wasn’t like this…” he repeated over and over, rocking his body back and forth as Arctic’s eyes looked straight into his soul, despite his body turning into an incomprehensible pile of flesh and dark crystals. “It wasn’t…” he sniffled, his usually emotionless eyes overflowing with tears.

The longer Arctic’s eyes stared into him, the louder Thirst could hear his own breathing and heart beating. The sound of rain threatened to consume it all as the world around him distorted itself, with Arctic’s gaze as its center.

“No… NO!” He yelled atop of his lungs, desperately trying to tear himself away from the agony.

With a startle, Thirst opened his eyes.

“Hah… hahh…” he huffed, looking around like a terrified kitten.

The darkness of the room did nothing to soothe his racing mind. If he blinked, he would be able to see Arctic’s gaze with the corner of his eyes, no matter where he looked.

Trembling, Thirst stumbled out of the bed. He walked simply by instinct, trying to figure out where the exit was. Huffing, his mind spiraled that dreaded memory as his body shook with guilt and fear.

Finally finding the door, he barely managed to turn the knob with his trembling hands, shoving himself out into a poorly lit corridor.

At the end of it, there was something that could soothe him. There was someonethat could soothe his crumbling mind.

Moved by that belief, Thirst stumbled forward, his vision darkening with each step he took. If he were to pass out in that state of mind… no, he couldn’t bear to think of it.

The heavy steps towards the laboratory caught someone’s attention.

The Doctor lifted his gaze from the broken coffee machine he was just cursing at towards the door Thirst was bound to come out of. The moment the silver-haired, black-horned man opened the double door wearing the most terrified expression one could ever see someone wear, the Doctor sighed wearily.

“… That dream again?” he said simply as Thirst approached, usually tall and imposing, but now curved and pitiful.

“Doctor, Doctor… it wasn’t like that…” Thirst murmured as he fell on his knees in front of the Doctor, placing his head on his lap. Even when on his knees, he was about the same height as the Doctor who was sitting up, yet he seemed so fragile one couldn’t help but notice the irony.

“I know.” The Doctor placed a placating hand over Thirst’s horns, sending a wave of much-needed calm into the taller man’s body. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Thirst’s hands gripped the Doctor’s legs as his entire body shook with fear and anguish. “It wasn’t… he didn’t look… but the Infection…”

“Poor Puppy,” the Doctor used the degrading nickname Thirst usually disliked, but openly welcomed whenever he was desperate for help. “Look at me,” the Doctor pulled down his hood and mask, revealing the face no one but the man in front of him had ever seen in Rhodes Island: a surprisingly young-looking, black-haired and red eyed man with animal traits much like its other residents, despite what many would infer.

Thirst’s eyes, usually devoid of emotion — or at least filled with repressed emotion — looked up to the Doctor’s like they were his lifeline. He opened his mouth instinctively, revealing his sharp fangs as the Doctor did the same, sticking out his tongue into Thirst’s teeth.

“Mhhm…” the Doctor winced at the sharp pain of the teeth piercing into his tongue, but pulled Thirst’s head back so he could control the depth of the desperate kiss. Thirst sucked into the Doctor’s tongue and blood, feeling relief at the warm liquid going down his throat.

The Doctor was immune to Oriopathy, and that translated into his blood, as well.

If Thirst drank from it, he wouldn’t feel as threatened by the Infection as he usually did.

The shaking of his body visibly lessened the longer the kiss went, until it completely stopped at the same time as the bleeding.

“D-Doctor…” Thirst huffed, nudging his face into the Doctor’s after their lips parted.

Smirking, the Doctor slightly pulled the back of Thirst’s hair, making him look up in his eyes. “Was that still not enough?”

His lips still moist, Thirst looked away with a tinge of embarrassment. Apparently, his sanity had returned during the kiss, but he still wanted it to continue for a while longer.

Even if the Doctor’s touch was rough. Even if there was always a sense of inferiority whenever they were together.

The warmth wasn’t a lie. The precious blood that no one else had seen the color of, it was only at Thirst’s disposal.

The eyes that many only saw through a cold mask, looked down at him like he was his, or at least like something to be protected.

Unconsciously, as Thirst thought of these, his lips protruded into a pout.

Which the Doctor promptly took a bite out of.

“….!” Thirst pulled away with surprise, smacking his mouth with one hand.

“Oh? It seems my Puppy’s growing up.” The Doctor snorted at Thirst’s reaction, and even more so once he scowled at the nickname.

“… Don’t call me that.” He squeaked out,which sounded terribly unconvincing in more ways than one. For one, he was still sitting on the floor in front of the Doctor’s chair, and for another, he made no effort to get up nor pull away the Doctor’s hand that was pulling his nape closer and closer.

“No?” The Doctor licked Thirst’s bottom lip as the taller man tried and failed to look away and resist the warm touch.

“…” Thirst’s reply was only silence, though even if he had voiced something, it would’ve been muffled by the Doctor’s lips on his.

The kiss this time, although not as desperate as the first, felt equally voracious as the Doctor explored every inch of Thirst’s mouth with his tongue. He licked his lips, then tongue, then gums with unexplainable hunger, which stole a moan out of the taller man.

Enticed by the sweet voice, the Doctor slowly pushed Thirst down on the floor, holding both of his hands above his head.

Of course, the act was more out of asserting his dominance rather than actual strength — after all, the Doctor was but a researcher while Thirst was a strong Operator. But their roles outside of these four walls meant nothing between the both of them… and Thirst would have it no other way.

However… As the kiss grew intense and their bodies grew hotter, Thirst moved uncomfortably under the Doctor.

“Mhm…” he tried to protest, but the Doctor’s tongue in his was relentless. It gave him no room for breathing, much less speaking.

Growling, the Doctor looked down at the Operator with hunger in his red eyes, like a predator set on his much larger prey. “What is it?” he placed his forehead on Thirst’s as his free hand roamed down to his pants.

Wincing at the lewd touch, Thirst closed one eye as he looked away, biting his lips. “The floor…”

Consumed in his hunger, the Doctor thrusted his tongue into Thirst’s once again. “How can a Puppy be this cute…” he murmured amidst kisses, reaching to grab Thirst’s manhood under his pants.

“Mh-ahh…” Thirst let out a disgraceful moan, immediately biting his lips to hide it. “D-Doctor…” he nudged the man on top of him like a powerless kitten, surely not th first nor the last time he would do it.

“Only once, okay? I’ll do it quickly…” The Doctor huffed as he kissed Thirst’s neck, rubbing their erections through their pants. “Just lift one leg…”

“Ah… But…” Despite being much stronger, Thirst couldn’t help but do what the Doctor told him to. Time and again he had told the Doctor that doing it on the floor would give him hip pain, but he couldn’t help but give in whenever the Doctor tried to devour him like that… it was unavoidable.

He was almost lifting his leg like the Doctor him to, but since he was yet to take off his pants, there was no way to.

“Just once, Just once…” now it seemed like the Doctor was the delirious one as he bit and kissed Thirst’s pale white skin, drunk in his taste, warmth and submission.

“Hahh… Doctor…” Thirst gripped at the Doctor’s hair, pulling him for a kiss to settle that burning sensation in his body. “Quickly… quickly…”

Smirking under their kiss, the Doctor pulled a few hairs out of Thirst’s face. “Are you sure? … Here?”

“Yes… Yes… anywhere.” Thirst finally conceded, his body too hot to wait for them to reach the next door bedroom.

“Good boy…” The Doctor whispered as he shoved his tongue into Thirst’s mouth, making the taller man roll his eyes in pleasure. Hurriedly did the Doctor pull down Thirst’s pants, but he was in no hurry to pull out his own erection.

Instead, he took Thirst’s massive dick into his hands and caressed it slowly, pulling its skin up and down to stimulate him into begging even more…

“Ah- ack… Doctor…” Thirst’s response as immediate. Despite his size, he was as fidgety as a little kitten, the boy… “Mhhmm…” He squirmed as the Doctor intensified his kisses and caresses.

He lifted one leg without being asked to as his breathing got more and more ragged with the heat in his chest threatening to explode. The Doctor placed his index right over Thirst’s glans, as if preventing him from coming.

“Mhhmm…” That made Thirst’s entire body tingle. “Doctor- Please…”

“Hmm? I haven’t said anything…” The Doctor chuckled heartily, barely managing to stay his need to ravage the man under him without waiting for him to beg. Instead, he twisted his hand slightly, making Thirst’s body squirm under him.

“I’m- I, ah… it’s… almost…”

“I never said you couldn’t…” The Doctor teased, licking Thirst’s exhausted tongue.

For a moment, Thirst stopped breathing. “I… can…?” he huffed, squeezing his eyes as the orgasm shook his body from inside out, his seed spurting out right into the Doctor’s cupped hand.

“You were waiting for my permission, Puppy? Without me saying anything?” The Doctor kissed Thirst’s temple as he used his very own cum to coat his ass for a smoother entrance.

“Mhhm, I-” Thirst barely had time to enjoy the post orgasmic fog as the Doctor relentlessly stuck three fingers into him, all dripping wet with his own fluids. “Doct-”

“Shh, now it’s my turn, Puppy.” He sealed Thirst’s lips with a kiss, hurriedly pulling out his erection to prod at his ass. “Be a good boy and let me in, hmm?”

“Hmm… Ah…” Thirst opened his mouth to allow for a deeper kiss, wrapping both arms around the Doctor’s neck as if to give him permission.

Huffing, the Doctor murmured a curse as he pushed himself in. “Shit, it’s still so tight… loosen up for me, Thirst, ack…” he bemoaned as Thirst spasmed around him, still feeling the effect of the orgasm.

Thirst let out a long moan as the Doctor pushed his full length in, digging his face into the Doctor’s shoulder. “D-Doctor… ahn…”

“Ah, hah… it’s good inside you, Thirst. Fuck,” the Doctor cursed, pushing himself as far as he could inside him. He pulled out only to push further back in, enjoying how the taller man squeaked adorably under his might.

Thirst wasn’t a very verbal man, so he couldn’t utter things like ‘it feels so good! Please, more!’ like one would expect to hear during those times, but the Doctor was much more pleased by the taller man’s repressed silence and muffled moans instead.

He could feel Thirst’s body spasm with pleasure whenever he thrusted. He could hear the strangled moans coming out of Thirst’s throat whenever he pounded him with a bit more strength… And that was hotter than any word Thirst could ever say.

“Maybe… Maybe it won’t be only once, shit…” The Doctor panted as he accelerated his movements, digging deeper and deeper into Thirst as his body loosed around him. At first, he did actually plan to do it just once on the floor and move to the bed, but somehow… Thirst felt much hotter and tigther today.

It was impossible to do it just once.

If Thirst had been just a little bit more coherent, he might’ve protested.

However, at that moment, he couldn’t think of anything anymore. The Doctor was relentless in his pounding, and that made Thirst only focus on him. There was only him in the entire world.

His body started to close itself around the Doctor’s dick, wanting to keep it inside forever, but also needing it to pull in and out like that for a while longer, for just a little bit longer…

“Ahn… Doctor- I…” Thirst announced, his eyes watering with pleasure as the Doctor never stopped his movements.

“Al… ready? Thirst…” the Doctor panted, “I… ack… fuck, it’s so good…” He tried to make fun of him, but the pleasure was such that he could only focus on his lower body. The heat in his body was unbearable.

They huffed in unison as their words got mingled with moans and the sound of their lovemaking. Lost in kisses and hunger, the Doctor felt Thirst coming first before he, too, shot his seeds inside of him, though his movements barely slowed down.

“Doctor…!” Thirst pleaded, feeling how the Doctor wasn’t intent on stopping after the first time. “I can’t- ack…” he moaned, his back end sensitive after being mercilessly worked on by the Doctor’s eager shaft.

He was about to come again mere five minutes after just coming.

“Shh shh, Puppy, ah…” the Doctor slicked back his sweaty forehead before pulling Thirst’s chin for a kiss. “Just once, just once more…” he bemoaned, his erection up and ready to rail Thirst for the remainder of the night if necessary.

“Mhhhmm…” Thirst rolled his eyes in pleasure as the orgasm shook his body again, making him relax all of his tense muscles. “Doctor…” he moaned as the thrusts intensified yet again, not feeling or not caring about how the Doctor’s seeds spewed out of his ass down his back.

“So hot, Thirst…” the Doctor licked Thirst’s lips, completely entranced by the man under him.

Whenever Thirst looked submissive like that, there was no way for the Doctor to be able to let him go after doing it only once… Mayhaps, until dawn, or maybe until someone finally discovered them in this laboratory.

But until then, the Doctor wasn’t about to let Thirst go, oh no he wasn’t.

However, that would come with consequences, even if they would only come in the next day.

They finally moved back to Thirst’s bed after doing it so much they thought they dreamed the walk back to the room. Snuggling into the Doctor’s chest, Thirst felt warm and fulfilled, a complete 180º from how he had woken up earlier that night.

Yet, what awaited him when he would eventually wake up was the hip pain he had tried to warn the Doctor of, and that made him scowl from the moment he opened his eyes.

Since he was an Operator, and also because of who he was inherently, Thirst liked to wake up early to train. He had to be in tip top shape if he wanted to keep on being the best protector of Rhodes Island, and that translated into training, training and more training.

But whenever he let the Doctor have his way with him, Thirst was useless for the largest part of the day. For one, because his back end would be throbbing, an ever-reminder of their delicious time the previous night. For another, he would feel a pinching pain on his lower back if they had done it on the floor, which, unfortunately, they had.

So he woke up with a scowl and went to get ready (he wanted to be mad at the Doctor for coming inside of him too, as that was more work for him in the shower… But Thirst secretly liked the feel of the Doctor’s seeds running down his legs when he got up, so he was unable to pretend to be mad about that), making sure to stomp around so the Doctor could wake up and see him angry.

“Thirst…?” The Doctor’s hoarse voice called as he patted the empty space beside him in bed. With a groan, he peeked out of the pillow to find the bathroom light on and the sound of the shower going off. 

“…” There was no reply as the tall man wanted to make his point obvious, but the Doctor was still loading his personality after having just woken up, so he missed it entirely.

In fact, he missed the entirety of Thirst’s attempt to show how mad he was as the Doctor fell right back asleep, which only made Thirst angrier.

So, later in the day, when it was time for the team to assemble to get to work, Thirst never looked in the Doctor’s way, which looked adorable to the Doctor but actually scary to the other team mates.

As Thirst was a tall, horned man, he looked rather imposing when he scowled. Usually, he wasn’t much for showing his emotions, but this time he had to prove a point (also his lower back hurt like hell) so he had to express his anger by pouting and scowling.

Seeing as the meeting was going nowhere with the team mates intimidated and Thirst even more silent than usual, the Doctor called for a break and summoned Thirst to speak privately in the laboratory.

Thirst followed, but looked the other way the whole time, which made the Doctor snort and think of a cute puppy that followed its master even though it was upset for whatever reason.

“Hey, you shouldn’t let you being mad at me to compromise the entire team.” The Doctor cut right to the chase, not even allowing Thirst to look aloof in a far corner of the room. He purposely avoided the spot the Doctor was heading towards — the chair beside which their lovemaking occurred just last night.

“…” Thirst still said nothing, turning his head away just so his eyes wouldn’t meet the Doctor’s under his hood.

“Hey, don’t be like that? You said I could…”

“That’s because-” Thirst took the bait and looked up to the Doctor, but immediately shut his mouth and turned away with a pink tint in his cheeks. 

“C’mon, Puppy…” The Doctor waddled towards Thirst, who turned his head to the opposite side.

“Don’t call me like that.”

“Okay. Thirst. Look at me? You’re hurting me…” The Doctor made sure the pout could be heard in his voice, which once again baited Thirst into glancing his way. Fortunately for the Doctor, he was still wearing his mask so Thirst didn’t see the smirk growing under it. “There… next time, I promise I won’t ask again, okay?” He reached for Thirst’s cheek, tapping it carefully.

“… You said that last time.”

“I did? I’m sure I said I would TRY…”

“You didn’t try!”

“Oh, Thirst,” the Doctor pulled down his mask. “Do you know how HARD is it to control myself when you’re like that? Extremely.”

“It’s not- It’s not my fault.” Thirst stuttered as the Doctor pulled his face down closer and closer.

“Nope, it’s allll my fault. That’s why I’m apologizing,” he said, his breath brushing against Thirst’s. “And telling you I will not do it again. Not ‘try’ not to, but I won’t do it. Okay?” he smooched Thirst’s dry lips, quickly pulling his mask back up.

Left with the aftertaste of a kiss, Thirst pouted a bit more, but his heart was lighter after receiving the promise. “Okay,” he nodded gleefully, which made the Doctor smirk under his mask again.

Little did Thirst know that when it was about him and his adorableness, there was no promise that could hold back the desire in the Doctor… So they were bound to have that same conversation a few more times in the near future.

Soldiers, Bird Watching

Thank you so much for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! I had a blast writing this so I hope you like it :D

Summary: Robin was someone who usually kept to himself, so people never truly got close to him physically. He bathed in his quarters and always made sure to walk as composed as possible alongside the Prince (even though Chrom wasn’t a paramount of fashion), so much so that it left people wondering what he could be hiding under it all…

Commission info HEREandHERE!

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The summers of Ylisse were usually a good middle ground between its two neighbors: not too hot like the Plegian desert, but still a great ways from the cold summers of Ferox. Honestly, it was a very comfortable land to live in, climate-wise.

The people weren’t used to wearing light clothing like the plegians did, so it was easy to see some people wearing long sleeves and thin coats during the dry season and immediately make the assumption that they were used to much higher temperatures.

Perhaps due to Robin’s still unknown plegian ancestry, he never felt uncomfortable during his time in Ylisse, even though he wore baggy and heavy clothing. Some of the Shepherds wondered if he was hiding a big scar or any kind of body deformity under all those layers since he almost never took his coat or shirt off in public.

(There was even a hidden bet among the men that never saw him take baths in the public bathrooms that he was hiding a big beer belly, but who was part of that bet and what it consisted of was debatable)

However, for the first time in a few decades, a heat wave strong enough to cross the mountains from Plegia landed in Ylisse with full force, making it one of the hottest summers the halidom had ever seen.

The plegian born felt right at home with their thin and revealing clothing, but most ylissean born people had to go around wearing less than usual.

Men fought to walk around shirtless (Vaike sassed every single one of them he passed by, comparing their muscles) or they would suffer heat strokes otherwise. Women wore string dresses at best, or, in Sully’s case, a very revealing crop top ahead of its time.

No one could beat her to force her to wear at least a camisole, so she basically joined the shirtless men in their protest to be allowed to walk around with their torso exposed.

Chrom, bless his soul, would join the protest himself if he hadn’t been recently crowned Exalt after the war with Plegia, so, frankly, he had more to worry about than dealing with the aftermath of half naked men. The heat wave itself was a cause of concern, so he and Robin spent tireless days coming up with strategies to mitigate its damage to the people and the land.

Of course, just because he was Exalt it didn’t mean that he was going to walk around wearing that stuffy coat and cloak in the middle of summer, so he was an adept of the half naked movement in spirit, at least.

Robin had laughed at his friend’s antics, though he, too, started to get bothered with the heat eventually. Thus, after a meeting, he went to take a walk around the south garden (which was the only one with a fountain big enough to house the overheated soldiers with room to spare) to refresh himself.

Along the way, he found his comrades wearing less and less clothes as he approached the water. Stahl waved from a shade, shirtless and sweating but at least eating some kind of cold dessert.

Gaius was lying down on a branch on top of the tree Stahl sat under, eating ice cream as his life depended on it.

Lon’qu was fully clothed, sitting in the middle of the fountain, right under the water jet, as if meditating — the heat hit him the hardest as a feroxi man.

Vaike wore a speedo (at that point, everyone gave up trying to make him wear anything remotely decent) and sat by the fountain as though he was tanning himself, but he waved loudly when Robin approached.

“Yo, tactical man! Finally cracked under the heat, eh” He wriggled his eyebrows.

Snorting, Robin nodded. “Yeah, I think I’ll follow your example for today,” he said, peeling off his coat.

“Oooh!” Vaike clapped once, but it was so loud it called the nearby men into attention. “We’ll finally see what’s under all that thick coat o’ yours!”

“Hm?” Robin frowned as he pulled his shirt overhead. “What? I wasn’t particularly hiding anything.”

The moment he let the shirt fall on top of the coat on the floor, all sound but the splash of the water stopped.

Some men tapped their neighbors while they grimaced and handed them coins.

Others looked annoyed for a moment and looked away, but most just snorted and nodded as though greeting a comrade in arms that had taken long to return home.

Sully arrived from behind the crowd at that moment, wearing her now usual crop top. “Yo, what’s the commotion all about- Holy shit, Robin, your TITS, man.”

While the audience was aghast at how well developed Robin’s body was under the coat, the tactician himself was dipping his head into the water, feeling refreshed as it slid down his neck once he went back up.

“Huh? My… what?” He covered his chest with both hands like a chaste maiden.

“I mean, they’re bigger than mine! And I work out a lot.” Sully slapped her chest proudly, which made Robin blush and look away.

“I uh, I don’t think my chest can be compared with yours- I mean, biologically-”

“Hey hey hehehey, wait a second right there!” Vaike sprung up in a flash. “MY tits are bigger than yours and you never said that to my face,” he pointed at his own chest proudly, shoving Robin to the side.

“I see your tits every damn day, Vaike. You’ll poke my eye out with your nipple someday.” Sully replied like that wasn’t the most ridiculous conversation one could have under the scorching sun.

Robin looked from one to the other like the spectator of a ball game, still covering his chest with both hands like he was posing for a painting. “I, uh, think I better g-”

“And so what? You never said that to me! He’s not even that big, c’mon, look-” Vaike pulled Robin’s hand that was about to reach out for his shirt on the ground.

“Whooaa, hey-”

“See?” Vaike placed Robin right beside him with their, well, tits aligned perfectly. “Say it to my face now!”

Sully crossed her arms, rolling her eyes at Vaike’s nonsense. “Why do you want me to say your tits are bigger so badly? I’m praising Robin’s tits here-”

“Please don’t say that, please don’t say it like that,” Robin repeated like a mantra, closing his eyes and accepting his fate as he wasn’t strong enough to escape the grip of either of the two.

Sadly, none of them listened.

Their back-and-forth got so intense that some of the soldiers around started repeating their words, making the gossip flow out of the south garden into the castle in a matter of minutes.

With ‘tits’ and ‘robin’ being thrown around so often, one would think that the soldiers were suddenly veryinto bird watching, so it would take at least a week for people to trace back the gossip to its actual source— or at least it would, but not unless Robin manages to bury it with strategic thinking.

He won’t allow Chrom or Frederick or Lissa to hear about this even if it meant buying a whole stock of sugar to shut up Gaius… If any of the three hear about it, Robin will never be able to forget how he got associated with yet another kind of bird. In the worst, worst way possible.

Claude, Oblivious

Thanks for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! This one was so much fun to write, I hope you like it!

Summary: Byleth was someone that was liked by everybody. That was basically a fact at that point in Garreg Mach Monastery. But was there someone whom the Profesor liked more than the rest…? Someone who could do… things to him? After witnessing something best hidden, Claude has to find out, one way or the other.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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There was a place at Garreg Mach Monastery that was mostly old people’s business.

One would perhaps think ‘the Church at morning mass!’ or ‘the evening choir’, but they would be wrong.

The place where old folks gathered like moths was none other than the sauna.

Yes. The sauna.

Most of the time, it was populated by old nuns and priests who came to relieve the fatigue from their tired bones. 

Occasionally, members of the faculty would pop here and there to alleviate their daily pains of teaching noble teenagers.

Very rarely, some students who took great care of their skin would drop by for their monthly routine. Those were regulars, so sometimes they even got a nun or three as companions for their time in the sauna.

The sauna was proof that cross-generational friendship was possible, at least within the 20 or so minutes one could last in there.

Even rarer still was the kind of student who went in there just for the sake of feeling hot again, something they might miss from their homeland, or such.

Claude, secretly Khalid, went into the sauna once in a while whenever he felt emotional about his home, and the role he wanted to play once he returned.

To his surprise, however, he found a member of the faculty there as well — someone he was very well acquainted with, in fact.

“Ey, Teach! I didn’t think you were the type to bake in the sauna with the grannies,” he greeted with forced cheer, pushing down the disappointment of simply existing in the heat for a bit.

Byleth looked up with his usual poker face, “yo.” Then, he shrugged. “It’s good to work up a sweat now and then.”

Claude loudly sat right beside Byleth. “Yeah, that it is, isn’t it?” He spread both arms at the seats around him and turned to look at his Professor. “But I think it’s the first time I see you… here?” Claude squinted.

Something… at Byleth’s neck, obscured by his sweaty hair caught Claude’s attention.

What could that be? A wound? Byleth was the strongest person Claude knew, and he was observant to a fault; there was no way he didn’t see Byleth getting hurt. What could that be…

“Hm? So you come here often?” Byleth turned to look at Claude, action of which made his hair slide slightly to the side, revealing the shadow that had caught the prince’s attention.

Widening his eyes, Claude looked from the mark to the Professor. “We’re talking about you now, though, Teach? ‘Sides, something else caught my eye…” he pointed with his chin to the mark that was placed in a spot that was usually covered by his hair and coat. “Who gave you that hickey, Teach?”

“Hickey?” Byleth tilted his head to the side in confusion. That made the hair cover the mark again, which only aroused Claude’s curiosity even further.

“Yeah! That one! You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? I bet you’re faking confusion right now, too.” He pointed, his archer eyes completely focused on the now obscured hickey. “I’m sure of what I saw.”

Following Claude’s finger, Byleth touched the nape of his neck, though a hickey wasn’t usually something you could feel with your hand, so he just massaged the area absentmindedly before an ‘ah,’ escaped his lips.

“So you confess!” Claude got up quickly, a rookie mistake if one’s ever been at a sauna before. “Oh, shit-” his vision blurred and his head spinned.

“Claude!” Byleth pulled the prince before he fell, saving his head from a concussion. Though his mind blanked out anyway, his last words before passing out were ‘oh, shit’. A fitting epitaph, perhaps.

“So you confess!” Claude woke up a few minutes later at the infirmary, his mind rebooting back to the same moment before he had passed out.

“Yikes, is that the first thing you say after waking up?!” Hilda jumped on her seat beside his bed.

Huffing, Claude looked around his surroundings to place himself in reality. “Wait, damn it. Where’s Teach?! He can’t run from me!” He threw the blanket up, ready to start a hunt if necessary.

“Yeah, sure, say nothing to the suuuper thoughtful friend who stayed beside you while you were out before leaving, sureee.” Hilda faked looking at her nails as Claude got up from the bed. “Ah, before you go, the Professor told me to tell you something as soon as you woke up, but now I don’t think I feel like saying it.” She hummed, smirking as she saw him visibly freeze in his tracks.

“Hilda? My gorgeous second-in-command and vice-rep of the Golden Deer—”

“Pass. I don’t want that much responsibility, okay?” She took out a nail file from within her sleeve and blew the dust off of it. “Just waiting for that tiny little word of appreciation here,” she quickly filed her nails, marvelously holding back her laughter.

“Ack, alright. Thank you my dearest Hilda, light of my student life and—-”

“Keep it comiiiing,” she sing-songed.

“Enough is enough, c’mon!” He stomped on the floor like a little kid, momentarily forgetting to keep his cool. He had just woken up from a literal fever dream, after all.

Hilda hid the file back in her sleeve with a slick movement. “Alright, alright. He didn’t say much, honestly,” she snickered. “Only: A training bruise. What was that all about? He just told me to tell you that and left—”

“BULLSHIT! A training bruise my ASS!” Claude cackled, slapping his knee. “He’s practically begging me to find out who gave him that hickey! Hilda, you gotta come with me on this.”

“Wait… a hickey? Gasp.” She said the word as she gasped. “No way. Are you sure? On Professor Byleth?! Where? How did you know? Tell me everything.”

“Okay, so here we go…” he sat back down and covered his mouth with one hand as one does when talking secretly, to which Hilda reciprocated by tilting her ear towards him and frowning to focus on what he was saying.

“No. Way. That’s totally a perfect spot to hide a hickey!” She clapped, laughing loudly. “Oh, la la, young Professor Byleth! Who could’ve known that he’s hiding THAT under his poker face!”

“Right? RIGHT?” Claude scrubbed his hands maliciously. “We gotta find out who gave him that hickey.”

“Orrr even better, what if they also have an EQUAL hickey on them? Do you think our professor would let someone do that to him without doing it too?” Hilda pointed to Claude’s nose, feeling like a famous detective of some sort of novel.

“Huh.”

…

…

“To be honest, I have no idea.” Claude confessed. “He’s a hard one to read.”

“Yeah, I realized that as soon as I said it.”

“That’s why I’m so surprised by this. It didn’t even cross my mind that Teach fucks—”

“Lan-guage!” Hilda booped his nose. “If Professor Manuela had been here, she would’ve taken points out of our House for that, you know.”

“Ack,” Claude scratched the back of his head, then ruffled his own hair in frustration. “This is driving me crazy!” he jumped up to his feet. “C’mon, Second-in-command! We gotta find out about this! Or my name isn’t Claude!”

Well, it wasn’t anyway, but there was no need to tell the world that yet, was there?

“Aye, aye, captain!” Hilda mimicked his enthusiasm, though deep down she was equally as curious as him, so putting in a bit of an effort for this wouldn’t hurt. “I know some girls who are always on top with the gossip, so let me go ask them for some info first.”

“Great! I’ll shadow some of the other teachers and faculty members, maybe it might be one of them…”

“Gasp.” Hilda held Claude’s sleeve before he could take a step. “What if it’s… a student?! Do you think he’d be that bold?!”

“As I said, I have no idea! At this point, I’ll believe he’s capable of anything!” Claude almost shouted in frustration, but now that the list of suspects practically quintupled, he started to get more and more excited about this.

To dig out some hidden truths… Ah, that was the fun he needed!

Infected by Claude’s enthusiasm, Hilda licked her lips to hide a big smile. “Okay, so I’ll go find the girls and meet you back here… no, not here, obviously.” She looked around the empty infirmary.

“Yeah, let’s meet back at the base.” He nodded, exchanging serious glances with her.

Hilda frowned with a serious expression. “Your room. Got it.”

They parted ways, each to investigate in their own fashion.

Hilda went down the stairs and followed the entrance hall towards the marketplace.

“Ah, it’s gonna be a pain to look for them in this crowd,” she sighed, already tired as she overlooked the market from the gates.

“Greetings!” A cheerful background voice that was always there sounded, but she was so used to it at this point that it went in one ear and into the other. Going on her tiptoes, she tried to find the girls by not going down the stairs.

“Oh, there they are! Giiiirls!” She waved. “Come here, come here! I wanna ask you something!” She winked, luring the girls into going up the stairs instead of her being the one to go down.

“Hilda!” A brown-haired girl with a pink bow waved. “Look at this cute accessory! You’ll love it!”

“Oohhh, accessory…”

Well, Hilda ended up being lured downstairs anyway.

There was not much progress on Claude’s side, either. He asked broad questions like ‘what do you think of Teach, I mean, Professor Byleth?” to some of the faculty members, but they all had similar responses.

That he was hardworking, had an eye for detail and worried about his students very much.

If he were Dimitri, Claude would’ve been feeling bad about digging dirt on the man at that point, but thankfully, Claude was Khalid, and Khalid had absolutely no qualms in digging things whatsoever.

None of them had that twink in the eye most people did when talking about their significant other, so Claude couldn’t pinpoint any sort of romantic interest in them towards their youngest coworker.

Hanneman even went on a tangent about wanting to dissect Byleth, which was right within Claude’s expectation of what the old man would say, so he just silently left as Hanneman did a presentation by himself.

There was no need to ask the students what they thought of Byleth as he was without any doubt the most popular of the teachers. Many had crushes on him, and some even publicly confessed their admirations, but all were equally rejected.

Deep down, Claude didn’t think the culprit could be a student. Byleth didn’t seem the type to lay a hand on his students, at least of that Claude was sure.

Sure, the man had only a single expression on his face, but his actions showed that he treasured his pupils in a different way than whoever gave him that stupid hickey!

“Damn it, who could it be?!” He ruffled his hair as he passed by the entrance and heard the usual background greeting. As he was passing to the mess hall, he found Hilda going up the stairs. “Hilda! What did you find?”

Flinching, Hilda hid the little shopping bag she carried behind her back.“So, um, nothing, actually. They didn’t find anything suspicious in the Professor’s behavior lately. And one of them even knows Ashe from the Blue Lions — whose room is close to Byleth’s, by the way — and he commented once that it was always nice to sleep close to his room ‘cause it was always so silent. The kid doesn’t like ghost stories so any little noise would shock him awake, see.”

Claude squinted at the bag behind Hilda’s back, but decided to ignore it seeing as she actually did her job despite being sidetracked. “So, nothing either, huh.”

“Are you really reaaally sure you saw a hickey? He did tell me to tell you it was a…”

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” Claude cut in, crossing his arms.

Hilda sighed. “… Well, no, but isn’t it easier to just give up? The man is a wall.”

“I can’t give up. My pride won’t let me,” Claude shook his head.” But I have to admit that our findings were inconclusive, so without substantial evidence to pin the hickey on anyone, I’ll declare our mission as failed for today.”

Hilda blinked, surprised that he actually gave up for once.

“But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop gathering info. I’ll just change my strategy. I’ll find them, you’ll see. I’ll tail him if need be!”

“Annd there it is,” Hilda giggled. “Alright, as your second-in-command or whatever, I’ll help you! Within reason.” She waved, patting his back.

“Hah, of course. Within reason.” Claude laughed, shaking his head as they went up the stairs to the mess hall together.

Watching the pair from afar, a man lifted his helmet to be able to see them better.

From the side, one could see a hickey at a spot similar to the one Byleth had in him earlier that day.

“There was something to report today,” the Gatekeeper smiled, bobbing his head to the sides happily. “And there will be more to report later, too,” he looked further up at the top of the stairs, finding Byleth looking straight at him.

They both nodded, hiding equal smiles before turning back to finish up their shifts.

Robin, Betrayed

Thanks for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! This was a blast to write askçdlmka I hope you like it!

Summary: After the traumatic experience of being fondled in front of so many people for official male breast testing purposes, Robin just wanted all of that business to be over with. Well… Lord Bellomo’s rise in popularity only meant even less time to rest for our certified tactitcian…

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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Hall of Forms.

In another world, one might have heard this term and be familiar with it. They might even have an idea of what it was like inside of it, and admire it, even.

However, in Ylisse, the Hall of Forms was not what one familiar with this world would imagine.

Oh, no.

It was something very, ah, out of the box, it should be said.

“As I said a thousand times before, no!” An exasperated voice echoed along with hurried steps through the corridors of Ylisse Castle.

“But, Master Robin-!” A well dressed man struggled to follow the fast tactician’s steps, though he maintained his poise regardless of his hurried gait.

“No more buts, good sir,” Robin stopped and turned on his heel to look the man in the eyes. “Tell Lord Bellomo that this portrait is NEVER going to happen, and that is final. I’m too busy as it is.” 

Having said that, Robin once again got on his way and left as quickly as he had arrived, leaving a disappointed posh-looking man alone in the corridor.

“… We will never give up on your wonderful breasts, Master Robin,” the man murmured darkly under his fancy mustache. “They WILL be hanged in the Hall of Forms, one way or the other. Perhaps we should ask for help from the higher echelons…”

Such occurrences had been happening for months after the disaster that was the male breast competition held inside the Shepherds garrison. Due to the participation of the Exalt himself and the exaggerated rumors of what actually happened inside the restricted area, bodybuilding in Ylisse experienced a boom in popularity.

With Lord Bellomo at the helm, many smaller male breast competitions were held all across the land, and each time that happened, they sent an invitation to the Exalt and the three winners (though they never actually found Kellam to deliver them to him) to attend. Only Frrederick went to all of them without fault. 

Robin never cast an Elfire so fast in his life the first time he got the invitation in his hands. After that, he became used to using them as kindling. Though it wasn’t as easy to dodge the people Lord Bellomo usually sent to persuade them into participating again and/or even worse, to judge other male tits- chests!

How could Robin subject others to the humiliation he suffered back then? T-to fondle…? To make them all stand around shirtless…? No, even thinking about it made his blood pressure rise.

But that was not all.

There was peer pressure, as well.

Chrom, although embarrassed for having let his hot head allow the first competition to take place — and even worse, participate in it — secretly did more pectoral training to make his chest S-Ranked like the three winners. Or at the very least like Robin’s.

Frederick was built entirely differently so there was little Chrom or anyone without that body type could do to surpass his quality tits- ahem, breasts. But since many were interested in his training routine, Frederick held a ‘Frederick’s-Up-My-Breast-Time’ (named by him) once a week to help men know which exercises were best for having the best quality breasts of all times.

Frankly speaking, Robin was surrounded by idiots.

What made things even worse was that in the recent months, Lord Bellomo and his associates had grown that stupid sport so much that they managed to open a Hall of Fame with pictures of all the best breasts they’ve scoured the land for, so far.

But they decided to call it ‘Hall of Forms’ since it was an ode to the wonders of the male form, or so they said.

It was just an entire building filled with well-lit and glamorous corridors and exhibition rooms that only exhibited one thing: Men’s upper bodies.

More specifically, their breasts.

It was a ‘titsctacle’, a tits spectacle, in Vaike’s words, basically.

Vaike bellowed everyday that his tits deserved to be painted there, and how unfair that first competition had been and yada yada, so Robin, who’s never been there before, could only shudder whenever the Hall of Forms comes to mind.

No,  sir, he’ll never set foot in there, ever. Nooo, sir. No, sir.

A good thing about being the tactician and counselor of a new ruler was that there was an endless amount of work to be done, so he could always slip away from the invitations due to being busy.

Virion’s return to Ylisse to ask for aid across the ocean was just what Robin needed to shift the focus a little bit, as well.

Of course, it was never a good thing that there was war on the horizon, but to Robin’s nerves, dealing with how to defeat enemies or even how to strike an international deal was better than having to think up an escape route every single time he entered a room in that damned castle.

There were talks of tits everywhere! It was maddening!

See, even in his thoughts he was thinking about them as ‘tits’ and not as ‘chests’ or ‘breasts’ anymore.

It was all getting to him, and he was conscious and terrified of it.

“Don’t think about it, don’t think about it,” he murmured like a chant whenever he walked in on a group of people talking about tits. “It’s bird watching, biiird watching…” he whistled, singing in a tone-deaf tune on purpose to muffle the voices around him.

Thankfully, the talks of going to Port Ferox to check out the situation with Valm and its Conqueror at first hand managed to dampen the festive mood about the stupid tits, at the very least.

The situation was grave, so they were preparing to set out right behind the two Khans who went ahead of them to inform everyone of their coming. Since there was news of warships closing in on them fast, it would be for the best to prepare the Shepherds and the army with everything they got.

They could go right into battle the moment they step into the Port, after all.

All of that meant that it fell on Robin to overlook the final touches of all little details — the stock of armors, swords, arrows, magical books, tents, food, etcetera etcetera… Which meant more work for him and less time to stand around posing for any Hall of Form artist ever.

However, what Robin overlooked was that there was a critical moment right before leaving that there would be nothing to do.

His mind was genius to come up with plans to escape something or to prevent something from happening, but when it meant dealing with people’s passions and drive… he still had a lot to learn.

And the first lesson started on the very previous day of their departure.

Chrom had called for a meeting at a weird hour, in between lunch time and the sunset, but Robin still went to the conference room as the competent man that he was.

However, he only found darkness and silence.

Frowning, the tactician tilted his head to the side. “Chrom?”

Another voice replied instead, surprising Robin out of his skin. “My lord sent me here to inform you of his absence, Robin.”

“Frederick? What’re you doing alone in the dark like that?” Sensing danger, Robin took a step back, though he found that the door he had just gone through had closed behind him. “I-is something going on?” His voice cracked despite all of his efforts to seem calm.

“Why, yes, everything is, ah, peachy, as you usually say.” Frederick replied with his usual monotone, making the attempt at a joke slap Robin in the face instead.

“Haha, ha… Okay. I’m glad, then. If that’s all…” he let out an awkward laugh and turned around to turn the knob, but… “Huh? Hey, when did this-”

“Do not worry, it is simply locked,” Frederick hummed as the jingling of keys sounded in the room. “There was something else we needed to discuss today, Robin.”

“How did you close the door so fast— wait, I didn’t even sense your presence here when I walked in.” Robin gasped under his breath, momentarily distracted by Frederick’s inhuman speed to fully grasp the situation he was in.

“…” Frederick only smiled politely, or at least that was what Robin thought, since he couldn’t see him properly. “Save from this meeting with Lord Chrom, today you are completely free, yes?” He asked suddenly.

“Uh? Ah, no? Of course not,” Robin rolled his eyes, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m always busy, you know? I gotta check the supplies—”

“For the fourth time? The supply manager came to complain to me after the third time since it seemed like you did not believe in his work.”

“Uh, there was also the wagons—”

“The stablehand is offended that you asked about the wheels so many times. If he quits after serving three generations of Exalts, I will not hold back in your next training session.”

“There-there was also…”

“Let us be real, Robin. You are free.” The smile in Frederick’s voice sent chills down Robin’s spine. “And so are we.”

Robin froze. “We?”

“Why, yes. Did you think we were alone?” Frederick merely clapped twice for the magical lights to pop back on, blinding Robin for a second or two.

Inside the conference room were all of Lord Bellomo’s people Robin had been avoiding for months and… a man sitting behind an easel at the very back.

How did Robin miss all of those people?! Were his senses turning dull after two years of peace?

“CHROM?! You were here all this time?!” Robin pointed at the blue-haired man in question, who was sitting far at the back, red from holding back his laughter.

“I-I’m sorry, Robin, I just- c-couldnt pfft… I couldn’t miss this, haha!” Chrom let out ugly noises trying to contain his laughter, which made Robin turn even redder in rage and embarrassment.

“How COULD you! My friend, my brother, the one I dedicated my whole being to—!!!” Robin pointed and yelled, leaving his guard open for Frederick to slip behind him and holding his hands backwards. “Ouch- Frederick!!”

“Let the muscles flow through you, Robin,” Frederick spoke in an oddly seductive voice, though it creeped out Robin immensely.

“Get- Get away from me!”

“Now, now, do a pose like this!” One of the associates, the last one Robin had turned down, in fact, made a signature bodybuilding pose where one held one’s own wrist and clenched all of their upper muscles while facing the painter. With a big, toothy smile.

“Noooo wayyy…” Robin clenched his teeth as Frederick easily forced him down in the pose, losing his coat and shirt along the way. “I won’t smile for this! Never!”

“Ah, how marvelous your breasts look when you make such force, Master Robin!” Someone commented while others murmured in agreement.

“No… nooo!” Robin squeaked under Chrom’s stifled laughter and Frederick’s proud humph.

The painter worked quickly, making sure to use bright pink colors for the nipples and cheeks to give them the flushed glow they were emitting from how hard Robin tried to get out of Frederick’s grasp.

However, there was no way for the small tactician to ever overpower the bear-like Frederick, so he eventually gave in and begrudgingly stayed in the pose they asked for, but he cursed them the whole time.

Little did he know that the painter was making his face glow much like his tits—ahem, breasts, and he was wearing a big, seductive smile like all others whose faces were drawn in the Hall of Forms.

Robin’s portrait would be hung between Frederick’s and an empty one reserved for when they ever see Kellam again, and it would take a spot of honor as a certified S-class breast holder, or so it will say at the plaque under the painting.

Robin would never set foot in there in his lifetime, but the Hall of Forms would persist for generations upon generations to come, and they all would remember the genius tactician who one day gave his life to save the world from Grima as the holder of a certified pair of male tits and someone with a very, very amicable and seductive smile.

Azura, Regretting

Thank you so much for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! This was a very emotional one, so I hope you like it~

Summary: After Felicia found her deceased sister, Flora, again, in Askr, many such encounters were bound to happen one way or another. A male Corrin bonding with a female Corrin who made different choices… and now, perhaps, they could even meet the one they thought they never would see again…

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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Askr sometimes was a refuge.

A refuge to Heroes who denied their home worlds, or a refuge for those who wished to see what lay beyond their own choices, in another world.

Many came and went as a passing wind, only to lend their strength for a short while and quickly return to where they belong, eager to continue writing their own story.

Many came and stayed a bit longer; studying, bettering themselves for the battles they would suffer ahead of them.

Many, still, came and chose to stay. Stay to give everything they had, stay to redeem their lost selves back in their home worlds. Stay to seek refuge, or to give it to those who needed it.

Some came and went to their worlds daily, through a special portal connected to Breidablik. Their stories had been written and now they had to act on the consequences of their choices — to rule, to guide, to be the one people depend on.

Those were Corra and Rin — the Princess and Prince Corrin, from the Conquest and Birthright worlds, respectively. To avoid confusion amongst the Heroes, the two Corrins from different worlds added to the nicknames given to them.

It sounded rather fitting, as parts of the single name they shared, so the two didn’t mind the aliases at all. Instead, they welcomed it. Since they enjoyed spending time together more and more, the new names made them feel as though they were truly siblings — twins, even.

Between themselves, they could share their grief, their regrets and think about what they could have done better to avoid all of the losses they had to suffer.

It was only between themselves that they could truly and fully open up their hearts, as they knew that the family they left back in their worlds would worry ceaselessly about them should they ever voice their true thoughts. Besides, saying it all out loud would mean ignoring all the sacrifices others have made so they could walk along their chosen path.

No, those words were only meant for their own ears to hear.

Askr was a refuge to them. One where they could truly be themselves, amongst themselves.

As the Prince and Princess shared some tea under Flora’s distant gaze (she had been waiting on them ever since they first met, so she knew to mind her distance), Felicia tripped at the corner she was just turning.

“Ack-ou-ouchhh,” she whimpered, but quickly got up to her feet. “W-wait, no time to waste! Flora! My Lady!”

“Shush, Felicia. Can’t you see the Lord and Corra are having a conversation?” Flora quickly pulled on Felicia’s arm as the pink-haired maid tried to run past her.

“B-but this is important! I just saw!” She panted, her eyes as wide as they could get. From their seats, Corra and Rin looked at the scene with awe. “Kiran summoning-”

“Are you alright, Felicia?” Corra got up first and asked in a loud voice.

“My Ladyyy-“ Felicia struggled a bit in her sister’s grip, but soon managed to slip away. “Kiran just summoned her! Lady- Lady Azura!!”

“What?!”

“Azura?!”

Corra and Rin jumped in their skins, exchanged glances and ran up to the clumsy maid. “Is that true? Is that- truly? Our Azura?” Corra took both of Felicia’s hands.

The Princess’ touch was cold, though Felicia wouldn’t be able to discern it well. 

“Flora, can- can you,” Rin wet his mouth more than once, his complexion paling by the second. “Can you check…”

The maid bowed respectfully. “Of course, my Lord. Just one moment.” She turned on her heel and left to the Summoning Grounds.

Meanwhile, Felicia tried to remember the details Corra asked, though she was getting overwhelmed.

“Um, I think she looked the same? I mean, maybe?”

“What was she wearing? Was she pale? She looked so sickly the last time… the last time I saw her.” Corra whispered the last bit with a pained voice, sharing the twinge of pain Rin also felt in his heart.

In his world, Rin had watched Azura die right in front of him. She had turned into dust, consumed by the power of the necklace she drew power from. To him, hearing that she was here, in the flesh, was… shocking news to say the least.

The Prince controlled his shaking hands as much as he could, barely listening to what Corra and Felicia were saying.

“I think she was… yeah, she definitely had a pegasus with her!” Felicia snapped her fingers as if she had made the discovery of the century. “I couldn’t see well from the all the lights, but I’m sure I saw her pulling some reins from within the portal…”

“A pegasus?” Rin lifted the gaze he had fixed on the floor. “She was… she mounted a pegasus in my world, for a time.”

Not at all disappointed that the Azura in Askr might not be from her world, Corra turned to Rin with a shaky smile, tears apparent in her face. “Maybe she’s the one from your world. You know, before…”

“Yes…” Rin bit his lower lip, feeling his nose tingling. “We should,” he looked from the women to the direction Flora went towards, desperately needing a push to give the first step.

“We do. We should go check.” Corra sniffled, then nodded. “Felicia, can you lead the way?”

“What? Oh, of course, my Lady! Let’s go!” The maid cheerfully nodded, turning on her heel to follow her sister’s exact footsteps toward the Summoning Grounds.

On the way there, they met Flora herself who was on her way back. Her face was serious as always, but carried a tinge of worry on her brow.

Rin’s steps slowed down as he saw her expression. “Flora? Did you talk to her?”

Flora nodded with a puzzled expression. “I did, my Lord, but something felt out of place, somehow. I can’t quite put my finger into it.”

Corra and Rin exchanged anxious glances.

Seeing that, Flora took a short breath and adjusted her posture. “Perhaps it would be better to talk to her in person? I’ve arranged for you to meet at the gazebo over there,” she pointed to a garden in the distance, over which a magnificent pegasus flew about, happily and free.

Under the gazebo, they could see the signature long, long, long and flowy blue hair that only one person they knew of carried.

It was her.

It was Azura.

“Can I see you smile for me?” Rin could hear the wind carry her voice. “One more smile… before I go.” Her weak, just beyond a whisper, voice sang as she disappeared.

“No…! I can’t do it…” he whimpered, repeating the same words he told her at that time.

Tears streamed down his face now and then as he had touched her outstretched hand and forced a smile just to please his friend during her last moments.

“That’s right,” she had gasped, “lovely…”were her last words to him. To his tear-stained smile.

And yet, oh and yet, there she stood, up and proudly as she wore a more brilliant and gallant garment than ever before.

The sunlight shone on Azura and through her, giving her a permanent glow that only those who carried a strong blessing could house.

Rin inadvertently leaped on ahead as light enveloped her, fearing he would watch her disappear right in front of him one more time. “Azura!!!” He bellowed with a voice he never knew he was capable of mustering.

Azura turned to her name being called and greeted the approaching man with a smile. “Oh, Corrin, there you are!” Her voice, clear as water, didn’t carry any of the exhaustion Rin was familiar with. “Flora spoke to me just now about you wanting to meet… are you alright? You look deathly pale!” She approached carefully once he halted mere three steps from her.

Her touch on his cheek was warm, so warm…

“A-Azura…” he hiccuped, squeezing his eyes shut so he could truly feel her touch on his skin. “You’re- you’re truly here…”

“Of course I’m here, Corrin, why wouldn’t I be? We just met-”

“Azura!!” Corra called, following Rin’s steps towards her. “It’s really you…! You disappeared without trace back then, so I thought- I figured… Oh, Azura…!” She sobbed, hiding her face under both hands.

Visibly confused, Azura looked from one Corrin to the other.

They were of different genders, but they truly felt like the same person.

“Perhaps, she is also…” Azura whispered, though Rin nodded as he still held her hand over his cheek.

“She’s Corrin, too.”

“Then you…” She lifted his gaze to meet hers, seeing in them a cloud of regret that wasn’t present in the Prince Corrin from her world.

No, the Corrin from her world was King. He was King of Valla, the world they managed to restore after going through many, many hardships.

This Corrin in front of her — no, both of these Corrins — they had cracks in their spirits. 

They were barely holding on.

As the both of them sobbed quietly, each holding one of her hands, Azura’s heart broke.

Most likely, in their worlds… She had died. Consumed by the curse just like her own mother had been right in front of her.

It had been a fate she had made peace with, as she never had anyone to confide with nor anyone to rely on. Hers was too tall of an ordeal to do it on her own, so for most of her life she had carried her burden alone, ready to quietly dissolve into nothingness along with her mother.

It was only after the Corrin of her world decided to believe in her and side with her against all odds that she managed to finally make her life-long wish come true: to free her home world from its curse and put it back on its path of restoration.

Looking at the Prince and Princess in front of her, however, she could see how truly lucky she had been. She was one of the many Azuras who managed to live. The one who managed to fulfill her goal and make a proper resting place for her mother’s spirit.

To these two… she had died trying. She had died without ever managing to take a step towards her dream.

“You’re-” Rin croaked out after settling down his emotions, gulping down his tears. “You’re not my Azura, are you? The one-” his voice died, unable to utter the following words.

“I…” Azura couldn’t bear to look at him — to see the same face he was used to seeing with a bright countenance wearing that cloud of regret like a coat filled her with woe. 

Corra kept quiet as she helt Azura’s hand with both of her own. To Corra, who did not witness Azura’s dissolution, she was glad to be able to have hope that her own Azura would appear someday.

If not back home in Nohr, at least in this refuge named Askr…

“I…” Azura hesitated, biting her lower lip. She looked down as she squeezed both of her hands in their hold. “Forgive me, I am not the Azura you know.”

Even though they were expecting it, hearing it from her own mouth was quite a blow. Their shoulders sagged visibly and their heads hung low as each one whispered a sad ‘I see’ under their breaths.

“What,” Corra started, struggling to get the words out, “what is your world like? Is your Corrin anything like us?”

“…” Azura’s heart cried in pain. The truth would only shatter their spirits even more. However, was lying the solution? What could she ever, ever say to soothe the desperation they oh so strongly tried to suppress?

“Azura?” Rin nudged her hand, making her look up at him.

“I’m sorry, I… I was the only one.” She couldn’t bear it. There was no way to tell them that everything was alright in her world.

It would break them, gnaw at them from within.

To her response, they both gasped audibly. “We didn’t… make it?” They exchanged glances.

Azura simply looked down, biting her lower lip.

To the Corrins, that was all the confirmation they needed.

Corra sniffled as Rin squeezed Azura’s hand even more. “So your world, too… So many sacrifices were made,” Corra cried silently.

Unable to bear it, Azura squeezed their hands back. “May I… sing a song for you?” She asked as a lump grew in her throat. “For us meeting here.”

Both Corrins blinked in surprise, but smiled weakly as they nodded in agreement.

“We would love to hear you sing again, Azura.” Corra said, clutching her chest.

“Rather, it’s something I’ve always wanted to listen to, for a long, long time…” Rin hiccuped, taking a step back to give Azura the space she needed.

With a broken heart and a heavy mouth, Azura took a deep breath to focus on the ode to the failed choices and the hymn of hope that blossomed in her chest.

For those who sought refuge in a world that connected many others.

For those who, little by little, one day will come to terms with their choices.

For them, she would sing.

Sing, until her song was needed no more.