CUT / THROUGH

you haven't earned my pity.

[fauxduke]

"now, little wolf. come here," at the height of his fifteenth winter, glenn is already a knight and even if he is built as every other fraldarius, lithe rather than bulky, right then he still towers over his younger brother. he picks the boy up, grins up at him. "you are getting heavy, you know?" it's a tease, mostly, but felix is about to turn ten—glenn doesn't know how much longer he'll manage to do this, if he keeps growing. "though that's not bad. just means you're growing."

Felix always intends to show his brother how mature he's become in Glenn's absence, but his plans always fall apart the moment Glenn calls for him. He'd been lurking, waiting for his opportunity, but Glenn had seen him poke his head around the archway into the main hall. Felix had planned to greet his brother in a low voice, welcome home brother, something cool like that, but when Glenn calls him little wolf his heart squeezes and his feet move without him willing them, and Felix is running towards his brother, feet padding on the floor, and then he's being lifted, and held, and everything is right again.

His arms are still skinny, but when he wraps them around Glenn's neck to embrace his brother, they feel like the perfect size when he holds Glenn. Felix nuzzles his cheek against his brother's shoulder, then offers him a toothy grin. "Soon I'll be as big as you!" He chirps, legs waving excitedly in the air. "Maybe even bigger. As big as a wolf! My training is progressing well—maybe I'll be able to join you on the battlefield sooner than expected."

There's so much to share, so much to tell his brother, so many stories to tell, but right now he's happy to be held, just happy to bask in Glenn's company. For good measure, Felix gives him another hug, a proper one this time. "I missed you, brother. Welcome back."

[goldpixy-deactivated20230510]

just found out my entire personality is a trauma response

[asteraws]

so uh, i didnt expect to be interested in fe again

[fauxduke]

hamartio​:

THE ACHE OF THE WOUND, even if expertly healed by mercedes’s caring hands, still remains, even as he wills himself into training. he has no right to slack on anything given his position, given his circumstances, given the war they had to win. the aggressive approach, as a by-product of the wound, has him react a little slower than intended, felix up in his space in a blink, a snap of fingers. there’s a snarl up against his features, something primal, and despite his height advantage, he still steps back, body reacting before his mind does. “—felix,” he begins, attempting to be placating, but simply sounding hollow, eye wide. something grips at his heart, but he can’t quite tell what as he shifts his grip on his training lance, as he tastes tension straining his back.

how do you spell out the details of your atonement for someone who believes you unworthy of it? how do you explain the drive, the thought, without twisting the wound open again?

“you misunderstand me, i do not want anything out of you, i simply—” and his words taste bitter as he realizes the lie to them. dimitri shakes his head, worrying his lower lip for a moment before continuing. “i wanted you safe and my body acted accordingly.” if i could not save rodrigue, if i could not save glenn, then perhaps, saving you—he doesn’t allow the train of thought to go onwards, but his grip tightens on the wooden lance. “if it puts your mind at ease, my friend, i will remember this exchange next time.”

—make no mistake: he will remember it, but not regard it with any care.

Oh, how even setting his eyes on this beast makes him sick. The way it flinches from him, even when it’s so much larger, as if it’s just the meek little prince it used to be. Felix thinks it’s very apt how much Dimitri has grown—the way his ragged clothes hang off his form, the way he’s hunched now, peering out from behind his hair—because he’s finally starting to look the part of the beast Felix knows he is. He wants to shake Dimitri, scream at him to stop acting like a frightened timid prince and show everyone the sadistic creature that lives within. Felix wants to push him to that breaking points and then snap the prince himself. Felix wants everyone to know he was right to call Dimitri a monster.

     A monster who saved his—careless, stupid, weak—life is still a monster.

     For a few seconds, Felix can only stare at Dimitri, gaze flicking to the grip on his lance before returning to that face. That hateful face. Felix’s brow twitches and his lips tremble with all the words he doesn’t say, all the violence he wishes to inflict. “Do not.” His voice shakes almost as much as his hand wrapped around the hilt of the wooden sword. “Call me your friend. We are not friends. Our friendship—” He spits out the word like a bug, “was massacred alongside—...” 

     He can’t say it. Damn it, even after all this time he can’t bear to say it. “When you’re on the battlefield, boar, your mind and body must act as one. If you are cut down, the war is lost, and all of this is for naught. If you dare—” His hand fists in the front of Dimitri’s shirt, “to die, after all that you’ve inflicted—if you dare try to leave this world without paying for it, I will bring you back to life just to kill you by my hand. Do you understand?”

[fauxduke]

hamartio​:

THE SWORDSMAN’S APPROACH is enough to have the girls that had been chatting with him stop speaking, the menacing aura alone intimidating enough to cut their chirping off. ah, what a pain. as much as he genuinely still adores felix, this was counterproductive to his plans for the weekend. sighing heavily, if perhaps a little dramatically, he offers them a charming smile and a wink before apologizing ( empty as always ) and turning towards his childhood friend.

he doesn’t spare them a second glance.

“lemme guess… you’ve come to drag me to the training halls or something like that?” he tilts his head a little, quirking a brow. “couldn’t you have toned the threatening aura a bit? i’m used to it, but these girls sure weren’t, y’know?” it’s half a tease, as felix likely can tell. he doesn’t care if they were upset outside the brief nuisance it’d be to chat other folks up for later, when he has free time.

Anyone who knows Felix knows how much he cares about frightening people away. It’s bad enough that he has to spend every waking moment seeing Sylvain out of the corner of his eye flirting with everything that moves, but it’s more than a little annoying that Sylvain has the gall to complain about Felix scaring them away. “If they’re afraid of that, they wouldn’t have made it to your chambers anyway,” he says. “A rabbit would have frightened them off, or Annette’s singing. Come on.” 

     Felix turns abruptly on his heel. Despite all the years he’s spent insulting Sylvain at every turn, traces of their old friendship still remain, like in the way he doesn’t need to check whether Sylvain is following him. Doesn’t even look back. “I don’t have the time to waste trying to drag you to the training grounds, Sylvain. I need your help with something. Do you think you can keep it in your pants long enough to complete a simple task?”

[fauxduke]

       honestly, at this point, if I see nox’s post on your blog, then I immediately trust you.

[rizurin]

good morning felix

[fauxduke]

      “You.” The word is a weapon, as close as he can come to stabbing Dimitri without actually doing it (and Saints know he would like to). Felix makes a beeline for the prince, stiff with his anger, and all but draws his weapon as he brings their bodies as close as he can without actually touching. He wants to see Dimitri flinch. Wants to see his fear. “What the hell was that?” He asks, and there’s a serrated edge to his voice, too. “Stepping in front of me in battle? Taking a blow for me? What the hell kind of strategy is that? To think that—” Felix stops himself because he can’t bear to say the words my brother or my father, but they hang in the air like ghosts all the same. 

     Felix’s face twists as his anger redirects itself, and he imagines putting a knife in Dimitri and twisting. “What do you want from me, huh? To thank you for making an utter fool of yourself on the battlefield? Don’t hold your breath. And don’t do that again, beast.”

[fauxduke]

      What a pain. He doesn’t know why he’s here or why he bothers with entertaining Sylvain’s foolishness to begin with, but Felix is trying very hard not to think about that as he stalks towards his old friend, the heels of his boots measuring out a clipped pace against the stone floor of the monastery.  

     “Sylvain.” His voice always sounds angry, accusing. A few heads turn at the sound and Felix clicks his tongue, irritated. Stepping closer, Felix lowers his voice and jerks his head, indicating that Sylvain should follow him. “Come on. Away from these gawking eyes.”

[fauxduke]

❛ show me a world that’s worth all this bloodshed. ❜ /  felix hugo fraldarius from fe3h, he’ll either duel you or ignore you, there’s no in-between. ❤  or  ↺ = 1 smoked meat inexplicably gifted to him! / written by ℜ.

[fauxduke]

      [ I’m here and it’s all nox’s fault. does anyone want to interact with this bastard. ]

[fauxduke]

beliefruined‌:

Byleth looked up from where she was sitting behind her desk as he approached. She wasn’t quite sure what she expected from Felix, usually it was a request to spar, or the assertion that one day he’d be able to beat her. To be excused from the parts of class that weren’t about sword fighting surprised her though. She didn’t know why, she should have expected exactly this.

“Felix, there is a reason I teach you things outside of sword fighting. It’s not an exercise in futility. You know there was a great sword master who once said, that you shouldn’t have too much fondness for one weapon. You’re a skilled swordsmen,” it wasn’t flattering, it was just a statement of fact. Felix didn’t need to be flattered, he was well aware of his talent. “But what do you do if you’re disarmed?” What do you do if yourself or an ally is injured? You’ll be in charge of leading forces one day, do you really not want to know how to lead people into battle? I’m teaching you skills outside of sword fighting because it will make you better warrior in the long run.” 

     Byleth isn’t the only one surprised here. Felix thought he articulated himself quite well. Though she makes a good point, and Felix’s eyes remain attentive on her the whole time, he does not seem particularly moved by her reasoning. 

     “If I’m disarmed, I will fight all the harder for it. There are plenty of discarded weapons on the battlefield; I am sure I can pull one from one of the fallen.” His weight shifts onto one leg, hip jutting out, slightly, and his chin lifts even as his gaze remains steady. “Injuries are signs of failure. I’m perfectly capable of defending an injured ally to provide them an escape route, and if someone bests me on the battlefield, it’s no one’s fault but my own. If my opponent is faster than me, or stronger, there is no amount of magic that can help.”

     Felix lets out a sigh, finally breaking her gaze to close his eyes, weary of the argument already. “I hadn’t realised this would be such a hassle. I thought that by now you’d be able to see I work better on my own.”

[fauxduke]

     “Ahh ... another pointless lecture.”

[amorizel]

they’re all on different sports teams, but always meet up after practice to hang out

[fauxduke]

sunraise‌:

𝑭𝑨𝑼𝑿𝑫𝑼𝑲𝑬  ──  FELIX.

“  WHAA ─  FELIX !!  ”  EACH  &  EVERY  TIME  felix  sneaks  up  on  her ,  annette’s  sure  that  her  heart  will  give  out.  &  if  that  isn’t  enough ─  well ─  “  don’t  say  that  out  loud  or …  or  so  loud !  what  if  people  hear  you ?  ”  she  likes  to  think  her  singing  is  a  well …  mostly  well  kept  secret ,  (  if  felix  is  even  keeping  a  secret !  )  &  she’d  rather  not  let  any  more  people  in  on  it.

“  & ─  &  it’s  stacks  of  steaks  &  cakes ,  &  cr ─  ”  she  shuts  her  mouth  immediately ,  stubbornly  turning  her  head  back  to  the  books  scattered  around  her  table.  is  it  too  dramatic  to  slump  over  them  now ?  sothis  end  her  now ,  please.  “  ─  i’m  not  singing  for  you !!!  ”

     "NOT SO LOUD? WHY NOT?” A COMPLETELY QUIET library seems like a perfect place to discuss the merits of stacks of steaks, as well as to make Annette make more noises like that one. It’s not as nice as her singing voice, but it has a certain charm to it, too. “It’s a shame that you don’t sing more often. How will people know what you’re planning to have for lunch?”

     “Ahh, that’s right. it was the cake that I was forgetting. I guess that makes sense —— I don’t like cake anyway, so it’s no big loss. The stacks of steaks sound good, though.” Maybe he should have that for lunch? ... “Ah, this is no good. Your song is making me hungry.”

[fauxduke]

aethele‌:

❝   certainly,   but horses wear  armor  into battle.   ❞   he says it more condescending than he intends.   from all the dastardly whispers and rumors,    he wagered felix would be far more battle fluent than this !   what exactly are they being taught in the blue lions house  …  ?   ❝   even if you are not interested,   it is still beneficial to learn.   then you would have known that the unarmored legs are a far more promising bet than the flank   —–   that is something we have to watch out for as cavaliers.   ❞

he exhales,   rounded fists propped on his hips in a manner suggesting he just might stamp his foot like the horses behind him,   chin lofty.   ❝  just listen.   i am trying to help you,   one warrior to another.   if horses make you uneasy,   that is all the more reason to spend time with them !   otherwise,   you are going to have a difficult time battling against them,   even if you do not ride one yourself.   ❞

     Who does this guy think he is, some kind of horse expert? Felix crosses his arms, digging his fingers into the sleeves of his shirt, seething with anger at his own mistake and at Ferdinand’s audacity in pointing it out. “If they were wearing armour, I would aim for their legs. Obviously.” Clenching his jaw to  keep from adding on more qualifiers, Felix makes a metal tally of all the reasons he doesn’t want to get on a horse.

     “Don’t even think about it.” There are so many reasons. Most of them involve getting kicked in the teeth, and some of them involve the eventuality that he and Sylvain will be paired up on missions if Felix suddenly shows proficiency in riding horses. “I’m not getting on a horse. End of story. Besides, how is being around horses going to help me fight them? I doubt you’ll be letting me pull my blade on them any time soon.”

[fauxduke]

"I figured you might need this after your training routines." From her hand, she pulls out a handkerchief to grant it to him. "Be sure to wipe your sweat and bathe so you don't catch a cold, Felix."

     He’d just put away his training sword when Ingrid approaches him, so there’s no chance to ignore her, pretend that he’s too absorbed in his stance, his swing. Felix is quiet at first, almond eyes glancing between the proffered handkerchief and Ingrid’s eyes. Several strands of dark hair have come loose from his bun, clinging to the sweat on his face. “You know I’m not a kid any more.” He wants so badly to reject it, tell her to take her compassion to someone who actually wants it, but after a moment he reaches out and accepts the handkerchief, more delicate than one would have thought possible for him. 

     He wipes at the sweat on his forehead, gathers all the loose locks of hair together and pulls them off his face. “You don’t have to look out for me all the time. I can take care of myself, Ingrid.” And with that he turns to leave, stopping after a few steps to glance over his shoulder at her. “Thanks. I’ll wash this and return it.”