Uuuh so I got a little carried away with this one. It’s really long!
Claude Von Riegan x f!Reader
Tw blood, tw death, tw slight gore, angst to fluff!
Listen man fantasy worlds are rough on the whole not-being-dead thing.
Claude could feel himself slipping away. Maybe it was his arrogance. Maybe it was his drive. Or maybe it was the massive gash in his stomach. Whatever drove him to this point, it had been worth it. He could feel his body growing cold, the intense pain turning his body numb. The sky... was it always this bright? When was the last time he actually took the time to look up? Look up from his paper work, his bow, his allies, his port, his life? When was the last time he saw you smile?
In those moments, against the caked, dried blood, his lips turned up. Sure it had been a long journey. Was it filled with turmoil and strife? Yeah. Were there a lot of tears? Oh hell yeah. Would he change it for the world? Never. He could hear voices around him. Was there someone nearby? He couldn’t tell, because his vision was so blurry that he could only see the blue of the sky. Then it was covered by a figure. Who were they? Another joined. A bright light filled his vision. A spell?
He could feel his body being picked up, but just barely. Just enough for him to recognize that he was being moved, but numb enough to feel like he was still floating. Someone was grabbing his hand, and he did all he could to grab back. He prayed to whatever goddess might be out there that it was you. He moved a finger. That’s all he had in him.
The main thing he wished he was able to do was to confess. To tell you how he felt, how he loved you, and how you only knew a false version of him. This mask he had on was to keep him alive, sure, but it was painful. Plus, he had a duty. There was a war, and he was intending on staying alive. Well, that plan seemed to have certainly fall through, huh?
Claude remembered the blackness as he drifted away. He remembered thinking that, if he were dead, that this was a really boring afterlife. Just endless space of black, nothing like the glorified heaven that he was supposed to go to. Or maybe he wasn’t? He certainly hadn’t been any sort of saint in his life, just an imposter of questionable intent.
As he stared on, he thought he saw something. A light. Was this really the light at the end of the tunnel that everyone blabbered on about? He started to walk. But that walking lasted for so, so very long. So he had time to think. What had he accomplished by getting killed? He left a lot of people hanging, that’s for sure. A lot of debts to be owed, he really didn’t want to think about those. People who he dared called friends, they would miss him, right? And then there’s you.
You, who had been his only sanity since you joined the Golden Deer class. You, who was the only one to actually make him smile. Or laugh. Or cry. Not in front of you, of course, but... from a distance. Your antics would make him chuckle, and when you were being flirted with, he would silently cry to himself late at night. Not loud enough for anyone to hear. Just.. enough to get the frustrations out.
Suddenly, the light was a lot closer than he thought, and he looked up to see himself walking into it. And then, his entire body was in pain. Vision was blurry, but he could make out a brown ceiling. He blinked, having it come into focus. He knew that ceiling. All the times he had been sent to the infirmary for doing something stupid, like hanging upside down on a rafter.
A pained groan left his body. He heard some shuffling as a result of it, and in a couple of seconds, Professor Manuella was over him. She gave a big sigh, holding her hand to her chest.
“Claude... You worried us, you know!”
“Man...uella?”
“Yes, it’s me, sweetie. How are you feeling?”
“I’m... in pain.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure you are. We almost lost you back there.”
“Where... is she?”
A look of recognition passed over her face. Strangely enough, out of all the people that he knew, Manuella seemed to be the only one privy to his attraction for you. “She’s resting. She was also injured, but she’ll be okay.”
Claude sighed, the action of relief bringing enough pain to make him cough. That caused Manuella to stand up and start concocting some sort of medicine. It was certainly not going to taste good, he knew that much, but he hoped that the pain relief coming with it would help with both the throbbing aching in his side and the intense anxiety he just got.
You were injured? How badly? Apprently bad enough for you to be bed ridden. This anxiety never stopped, not once, throughout the next couple of weeks that he himself was bedridden. His condition slowly improved, between the healing spells of Marianne and Manuella. But they had to be metered out between the two of you. He had eventually been told that you had been speared through the back, and barely made it yourself. It was difficult to get the two of you back into the land of the living.
Claude found himself praying. Praying that you would be okay. Your condition was unstable, while he was the one improving steadily. He had been informed that they had, indeed, won their side of the war, but he didn’t want to be in this world if you weren’t in it, too. It was when he was able to walk that he was escorted to your room by Manuella.
“Now, Claude,” she said softly just before they had made it to your room. “She’s fragile right now. Be careful where you touch her, she can’t move very much right now.”
“I’ll be careful, don’t worry. Sheesh, it’s like you don’t trust me with her or something.”
She gave him a pointed look. “You know, she asked about you a lot, too.”
Claude’s smartass demeanor faded for a second. “...Really?”
“Mhm, she wasn’t concerned with her health. She was concerned with yours. She’s not just fragile physically. She’s emotionally fragile. Be gentle.”
Claude swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
Manuella smiled. “Go on then. She’s been patiently waiting to see you.”
Claude took a deep breath, approaching your door. It felt almost like he was breaking in, but he pushed past the rising fear in his chest and slowly pushed open the door. The room was most of what he expected of you. There was a little teddy bear in the corner, a bunch of books on the windowsill, clothes strewn about everywhere, a sword in the other corner, and a rose beside the books. Though, it was a different rose than he was expecting. Thorns along its rough, yellow stem, and orange petals instead of the typical red.
“Claude...?”
A weak voice reached his ears, and his eyes trained themselves to your broken form upon the bed. You looked just about as bad as you sounded; a white robe, disheveled hair, tired eyes with bags underneath them, and several rags with blood on them next to a bucket on the floor. But there you were, a smile on your face and a look of joy to greet him. He couldn’t lie, his heart beat out of his chest a little at that sight.
“Hello darling. Heard you nearly died?”
He closed the door and walked over to your bed, careful not to step on the clothes and the rags. The bed creaked in protest as he sat down next to you. He wondered how many people had been in this exact position since you’ve been here. Almost immediately, you hand reached for something of his, anything. He bit his tongue, fighting the urge to hold it in his. Instead, it clasped onto his arm. It was weak and shaky, but you were here. You were alive.
“Yeah, though I think I’m starting to get better.” Your voice was raspy, like it hurt to talk, but that never impeded your smile. “How are you fairing?”
“A lot better now, but I wanna hear about you! How’s the wound holding up?”
“I... was pierced through, so it’s been a hard recovery. If it weren’t for those healing spells...”
Your voice trailed off and your eyes darted to the side. You would have died. They put just as much effort into you as they did him. He couldn’t help it anymore. He placed his hand on yours. Your eyes darted back up to him, only to see his sad smile.
“I’ll be okay, Claude, I swear.” There was that grin again, always in the face of any danger or pain.
“Khalid.”
“What?”
“My real name. Khalid.”
Manuella probably knew just as well as he did how fragile the both of them were feeling. Seeing you like this, on your last strand of life, smiling at him like nothing had happened? He couldn’t handle it anymore. The mask was coming off now.
“Khalid...?” you got out. Oh it was so nice to hear it in your voice. A foreign word at this point, but in your voice, it came to life again. “That’s an Almyran name, right?”
“As Alymran as it gets!” His voice started to waver as the tears fell. “And you know what? I’ve almost died because of that heritage! Half Fodlan, half Almyran. This lie I’ve been living? I’m tired of it. I’m so tired of it. And I’m tired of lying to you.”
“To... me?”
“Yes. To you. You, who have risked yourself so many times for me, in exchange for nothing. You who have brought me the brightest days and the saddest moments. You who taught me emotion again, taught me longing and drive.” He held your hand to his chest, where his heart beat, and held it in both hands. “You’re smiling at me like it’s the good old days, like you just fell in the yard. But you’re on death’s door! And you smile! I don’t care if you--you hate me, or what I’ve done. I love you with all the fury of the sun and the moon, so please, stay alive. Please...”
There was a silence, and then your smile widened. You pulled him closer to you, and he didn’t resist. Your hand moved from his chest to his neck, and then to his cheek as you pulled him into a kiss. He hoped he wasn’t bothering you with the tears plopping on your cheeks, but when he pulled away, he saw that you had your own tears to worry about.
“I love you too, Khalid. But I think the only way I’ll get better is if you visit me everyday.” You smirked at him, winking. He chuckled, sniffling and planting another kiss to your cheek.
“You’re twisting my arm here, but I suppose I can manage that.”
You giggled. “Good, because I don’t want you to go.”
“Then I’ll stay here tonight, until Manuella kicks me out.” Though climbing was difficult, he managed to make it to the other side of the bed against the wall. It was there that you two fell asleep, holding onto each other for dear life. And he thought to himself that, maybe, just maybe, he would be able to make a life out of this. One that wasn’t filled with so much strife. But that would have to wait until the morning. And until you were better.
He didn’t care how long he had to wait. He would wait until the sun died if it meant that he could stay like this forever. Just like the Almyran rose on the window sill, who waited patiently for someone to love it just like you did.
okay so I love your writing and I'm so goddamn anxious so- hcs of claude comforting a reader that is so goddamn stressed because she has so much responsibilities? bonus points if she hates being vulnerable in front of others because she feels so weak- because that's me tbh 😔 I am so goddamn tired of bottling my feelings because I can't trust anyone at all- and uh sorry for ranting a bit 🤧
{I’m sorry that you feel this way, honey. I’m here to talk if needed since I’m online a lot. And I’m sorry this took so long and that there isn’t even much of it. This was weirdly difficult for me. I think that’s because I’ve been in your shoes.}
༓ʚ Independent ɞ༓
Summary: Claude reacting to reader being overwhelmed by responsibilities.
You’ve always been the independent type. Being very hardworking and not asking for help. It’s your blessing and curse. Claude can trust you with anything. But it worries him that you take on too much due to others being untrustworthy.
It was almost like a dance to him. One step forward to ask if you need assistance. One step back when you turn it down. One step to the left, one step to the right to check in on you. One step that pulls you in his embrace so he can show his vulnerability.
Claude knows that it’s hard and uncomfortable to open up. Claude can relate to your feelings. He knows fear, discomfort, and distrust. Claude grew up on that type of emotions as a child and it has shaped him in some ways. Even if he didn’t want it.
But he doesn’t want that for you. Claude does whatever he can to ease your life, regardless if little effect or not. Because you are so beyond important to him that it’s hard to watch you feel these ways. To overwork yourself. To not trust others. All that Claude wants and does is to support you with anything.
ey! hcs (or whatever you see fit) of claude with a female s/o that has a twin sister? if you're good with another detail, then that s/o's twin is with dimitri. thank you, love your writing, and hope you have a great day!! (I love your account so much 🥺)
{I’m going to write this hcs of the reader being an identical twin. And thank you so much, sweetheart ♥}
༓ʚ Troublemaker ɞ༓
Summary: Claude reacting to his girlfriend having an identical twin.
Claude is a smart man which meant it didn’t take long nor was it hard to tell the difference between you and your sister. The different mannerism between you and her. The different color flecks in yours and her eyes.
It makes sense he could tell the both of you apart, not solely because he is your lover. But because Claude wasn’t able to look away from you even before becoming a couple. Almost from the beginning, he started to develop feelings for you.
Nonetheless, he enjoys that you’re a twin because he can make a game out of it. Claude either pretends to not notice the difference or fake surprise that you have a twin. It depended on the person.
The former was used against fellow friends or who have met you and your sister. It took Dimitri a bit to realize that Claude was messing with him.
But it didn’t take long for everyone to catch onto his antics and odd sense of humor. Claude finds it ironic because everyone knows he’s lying, yet none of them can tell much of a diversity. Nowadays it’s an exhausting and overused joke.
However, the latter was saved specially for strangers. The more dramatic surprise or shock, the better. Sometimes Claude found it impossible to not grin like a mischievous fox. Especially when someone would attempt telling him otherwise. Claude would take it up a level when faking denial.
You’re the only person, aside possibly your sister, who has control to either encourage or discourage the jokes. It was decided by your mood and behavior of the day. There were times where it was amusing and others were it was tiring to hear. Although, it was hilarious to watch Claude pull that prank on Seteth or, better yet, on Alois.
Could you do headcanons for Claude with a female s/o who comes from a kingdom (based on Thailand) renowned for its floating markets along the river?
{I really don’t know if I did this justice. Thailand is beautiful and I don’t know much about it sadly. I believe that this is the longest one I’ve written before.}
༓ʚ My Interest ɞ༓
Summary: Claude reacts to a female reader being the princess of a kingdom based (off of Thailand.)
He heard rumors of you before actually meeting you. A few rumors were rarely true while others were beyond unrealistic that it’s almost humorous. Claude said that he wanted to befriend you, which is partially true. The reason is that Claude could benefit from your connections and status.
The relationship between one another couldn’t be called friendship. It was more of a friendly acquaintance, both not genuinely honest with each other. The only odd thing about you and him is that Claude made flirtatious comments toward you. Each was a new one whenever you saw him again. You tried to not become affected by it, yet bold remarks were hard to ignore. His verbal and, almost, physical affection was uncommon in your kingdom.
Since no one treated you like a close friend, it’s frowned upon to show anything that could come across as disrespectful. Skinship from strangers or friends was frowned upon as your parents believed it was an act of romantic interest. Words of honesty, disagreement of your opinions, and bold actions were frowned upon. Your parents saw it as a sign of disrespect, believing that anyone who did it was mocking you.
But those are the exact reasons why you started to like Claude. The first time when his hand touched the lower of your arm or leaned close was enough to startle you. The heat of your blush was enough to set you and the room aflame, burning everything. Or the first time Claude made a sarcastic statement that’s opposite of your opinion was shocking. You’ll never forget the sly grin after getting annoyed at him.
It doesn’t help that every time you think Claude’s easier to understand and read. He’ll change the game. He always kept you on your feet, like it was a dance that Claude memorized the steps of. The things that made you grow to like him are the exact things that made Claude like you.
It was Claude’s genuine and pure interest in your culture. It’s what caught his attention, especially the floating marks. He wanted to know more and any books within the library did little help. Claude often asked questions about them. About the prices. How the boats didn’t knock into one another. if it’s possible to swim in the water. It was both adorable and exhausting as each question became less serious and more childish.
Claude was quick to notice the frustration of not showing interest in other parts of your kingdom. Which is beyond beautiful, a thing often said to you whenever anyone visited. Thus, Claude started asking about other parts of it. From the famous dishes to talking about your and his favorite meals from home. From your kingdom’s language, compare it to Almyra’s language. Claude used to call you princess, almost making you think that he didn’t know your name at some point. Something you brought up which made him laugh.
That was the last time, however. Claude asked what were words of affection in your kingdom and when you told him what lovers call one another, he just nodded. The next day he stopped calling you princess. A thing that oddly saddens you. Instead, Claude started calling you various terms of endearment from your kingdom. It took everything to not blush, drop your jaw, or freeze like a deer in headlights. You probably did all three.
can u do a part two to star crossed lovers where they potentially run away... 🥺👉👈
{Ah, I was hoping someone would ask for a part two. Just fyi, this is long.}
[ Chapter One ]
༓ʚ Star-Crossed Lovers ɞ༓
Summary: You haven’t seen Claude since the news of your marriage and before you can worry. A letter is sent to you from him.
One week has passed since the last time you’ve seen and talked to Claude. Besides the servants, it isn’t publicly known that you are getting married. No one, aside from you, seems to have a problem with this solely because both you and Byleth are well-liked among the people. So in theory it makes sense that it would be a good match.
Meanwhile, your heart is aching at the thoughts of how Claude reacted to the news, knowing that neither of you could spend time together anymore. It could never happen. Not when there are servants who love to gossip and could tell Byleth. That spelled trouble in bright, bold blood words.
The same red color as your lipstick that lays on the beauty table, waiting to be used. Your reflection is not hiding how you feel about all of this in the mirror while maids begin styling your hair and picking out various gowns to wear. Byleth is coming over to spend dinner with everyone and speak about details about the upcoming wedding.
Father and mother hope that you’ll magically fall in love with him overnight. This is why mother is making the maids dress you in proper, traditional princess clothes. As the makeup and hair have been finished and the maids assist in buttoning up the back of the dress.
Your mind is elsewhere. It’s in the kitchen, spending time with a cute troublemaker named Claude who always gives extra treats after ‘accidentally’ making too many. But that’s all in the past now. That thought makes you frown deeply, turning extremely distressed as the door that leads to the dinning hall is in view.
Despite the doors being at the very end of the long hallway, it’s the knowledge that once those doors open, there is no turning back. Your heart raced like a rabbit on a hunt, on the edge of nerves.
As the butlers standing at the door come into sight, your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach, realizing that it’s nearly time. This is where the future will be decided. This is where you’ll never see Claude again.
Taking a deep inhale, you hold in the air until it starts to hurt. Exhaling when the butlers open the door and further in the room, your parents and Byleth sit around the table, possibly waiting for you. It’s not a sight that pleases you.
You stop at the doorway, still hidden from them, and instead, watch Byleth. He is a good man, though not the type right for you and most people knew that. But if fate had been different, he could’ve been a good friend. You start to walk again, the realization swimming around inside your mind.
“My lady!” A hushed female’s voice calls out, pulling you backward, into the hallway again. It’s hard to tell what was the most startling. Suddenly being grabbed or that this woman has intimidating strength. You can barely stop from stumbling and tripping over the gown.
“Ah, sorry.” The woman speaks again, releasing you, “I just got nervous that I wouldn’t make it in time.” She explains, lowering down a little to look at you while you were leaning on the wall. “What is the meaning of this, Hilda!” To say that you weren’t annoyed by being grabbed and moved around is a lie. Your eyes narrow in annoyance, watching her.
“I wouldn’t normally do this since it is a lot of work and I could get in trouble.” Hilda answered while dragging around in the pockets of her maid’s outfit, “I owe Claude.” His name instantly got your attention, curiosity forming as the pretty pink-haired girl finally found what she had been looking for.
“Ah! This is for you. You should read it now. It’s very important.” Hilda explained, shoving the letter into your hand, “I have to go or I’ll get in trouble.” and left just as quickly as she came. You watch her running figure before glancing at the door that leads to the dining hall then bring your gaze to the letter. You start to open the letter, lip biting from anxiety, and a little taken aback by the words.
“Princess,
Let me start by saying how thankful I am to have met you. You’re beautiful and clever, and after finding out that you’re to be wed. I am a coward because if I could go back to our last time together. I would tell you how I felt, how nothing could be worse than not living or being with you.
That no words can describe how much I love you, that I still feel this way. I always will. That’s why I have to leave. I’m sorry that I can’t be by your side at such an important event. But it hurts to stay and watch another man love you, and it is selfish of me, to ask you to choose me instead. Though, if somehow you love me in return, I’ll be waiting at the spot we first met.” - Claude
Your body moved before your brain could tell you, breaking out into a run. The letter is clenched tightly in your hands as you pick up the bottom ends of the dress, allowing you to move quickly. This letter is all being the final push.
You look odd, running down the hallway as if hounds were at the heels of your feet. When you made it to the kitchen, it was more busy as servants were preparing the meal that would be served at dinner tonight. A reminder of what is being left behind. Which doesn’t make you stop for a second.
On the other side of the kitchen, there is a backdoor that leads outside to a forest of wild apple trees. As you make it out the door, out of breath, your lungs and legs hurt from running. Your hair is partially out of place while some of it is barely held up by the remaining hairpieces, or the beautiful dress is now covered in dirt and sweat. It’s a lie to say that you don’t care about your appearance.
But at this point, in this life, and this moment, everything didn’t matter at the moment. Not when it came to Claude who smiled upon seeing you. “Nice to see my favorite royalty, again,” Claude spoke, moving away from one of the trees and walking over to you with a grin that reached his eyes
In a desperate attempt to not look so ridiculous, you straight and huff out a laugh. “Favorite, am I?” You repeated the same line from a week ago, still breathless. Which makes him chuckle, Claude standing at arm’s length from you.
“As if you don’t know.” He teased back, copying you, and taking in the full sight of your appearance. “And I must be yours if you look like this,” Claude said with a deep laugh, enjoying the expression you made at his statement.
But as the reality of the situation settled in, honestly, none of this mattered as he pulled you, wrapping his arms around you. Claude sighed in contentment, removing his arms from you to hold onto your hands, instead. His eyes were glued to your face, trying to memorize this moment.
Claude’s eyes were becoming too much to handle and using what was remaining of the adrenaline from earlier to give you the last of courage. You pull your hands away from him, using them to bring Claude close and down a little, giving you a better access. You kiss him with every last breath, last strength, and last energy that’s swirling inside of you.
By the sound that came from Claude, it both took him by surprise and appreciated. He puts one hand on the side of your face and the other on your hip, keeping you steady as Claude kisses back, pushing you almost backward from the amount of pressure.
You’re the first to pull away and as you look up at him, it’s hard to not laugh at the slight dazed look on his face. Claude recovers from the kiss a little and removes his hands from you, and instead holds onto one of your hands. “Let’s go,” Claude says, after placing a small kiss on the palm of your hand.
Summary: Peaceful days spent with your favorite servant, Claude, is shattered after being told you’re going to get married.
“You’re to be wed.” The king - your father - said as you whipped your head in his direction so quickly that the world spun a little in response. “Excuse me? Who?” You are in such disbelief by the news that the hairbrush you were using moments ago was still held in midair.
“Me, of course. He is nice and you’re at an age where it’s time to settle down.” Father said it so calmly as if this wasn’t his daughter’s future being decided unwantedly. “We are getting older and you’ll take over soon.” Listening to Father say all of this made you want to cry.
Your brain isn’t fully processing the words, still numb from the shock. This is unbelievable, neither father nor mother were arranged to one another, so why must you? As the hairbrush is placed down, you stand up which makes the bottom of your dance twirl from the movement.
“Who is my to-be future husband?” Despite the fear of the answer, you needed to know if this man could be someone you would love. “You’ve met him a few times. It’s Byleth Eisner.” Father said with a proud grin, puffing out his chest. “Byleth? He’s so stoic and neither smiles nor cries. I can’t marry a man like that.” You argued back.
“I’m sorry to hear that, but it has already been decided, dear.” His face was unreadable. A wave of emotions started swirling inside, overwhelming you as the room became unbearably hot, “Excuse me, but I need to leave. I can’t handle this.” Although you tried to hide it, the displeasure of the whole situation dripped from your voice like venom, rushing out the door.
After exiting your bedroom, you leaned against the door and took deep breaths, attempting to calm yourself with eyes shut tight and hands curled into fists. As tranquility overtook you minutes later, the desire to snack on something sweet subconsciously made you begin walking in the direction of the kitchen and the cute boy that works there.
It is a short walk to reach the kitchen and as the servants see who entered, you’re warmly greeted by them since it’s common to see you here occasionally. It’s well-known that you love food and therefore, it made sense you had come to know the cooks. “Well, well. If it isn’t my favorite royalty.” You look up, eyes meeting the person whose playful voice belongs to you. “Favorite, am I?” Your question with a giggle.
“Ha, as if you’re not aware of it.” Claude watches you take a seat in front of him, resting your arms on the messy table and staring at him with a smile that reaches up to your bright eyes. Which lights up even more at the sight of your ice cream being placed in front of you by another servant.
Claude watched in amusement while laying down halfway on the table, using it as support to put his weight on it while resting Claude’s head on the bottom of his palm. After taking another bite, you glance up to see why he is so quiet but instead, you’re captured by his eyes as Claude tries to memorize every piece of your facial features.
“What’s the matter?” You ask, fighting the desire to take another big bite of the desert. “You just seem a little off.” Claude replied, showing concern, “It’s nothing. Just tired.” You looked away, not having the heart to tell him the truth because thinking about all of it makes you want to cry. Besides, he’ll find out about it without having to say it.
