#blutgangs

‘ oh? ’ their head tilts in consideration. terms of endearment are... difficult for them to grasp, but they welcome the effort in pressing their boundaries beyond the familiar. arms wrap around her and it feels like an almost natural response. at least, until it registers and their embrace loosens in confusion. — babygirl?

AN  EYESORE.  Sorry  sight  for  anyone  to  see.  But  he’s  come  to  be  watchful,  particularly  noticing  of  the  young  woman’s  near  constant  presence  around  him.  She  wasn’t  clingy  per  se.  One  would  have  to  be  outwardly  close  with  someone,  blatantly  obnoxious  to  be  deemed  clingy.  At  least  those  were  his  thoughts.  No  ,  no  ,  Marianne  was  something  of  a  mild  nuisance  but  nothing  so  severe  that  he  should  do  anything  about  it.  As  unscrupulous  as  he  was  Adam  would  bide  her  time  with  trivial  favors  to  keep  her  occupied.  Perhaps  a  good  deed  of  sorts?  He  thought  she  needed  some  purpose  in  her  life.  So  that’s  what  he  gave  her.

The  opulence  in  his  eyes  were  wide  like  red  wine  having  heard  her  voice  so  softly  spoken  and  politely  protesting  his  leaving  for  the  evening.  The  sun  was  about  to  set  and  their  small  talk  had  dried  up. Within  the  atelier  in  which  they  sat  together  high  in  the  towers,  nearly  atop  the  building,  the  windows  would  be  reflected  with  rose  hues  and  gold.  Adam  was  about  to  pick  up  and  leave  her  to  her  own  devices  until  her  sad  little  voiced  spoke  up  from  the  wastes.

Why.  Why  would  you  ever  want  him  to  stay?  It  was  odd.  Curiously,  his  head  titled  slightly  like  a  confused  puppy.  A  stunt  that  his  brother  often  performs  but  now  seems  to  have  picked  up  the  trait  unwillingly.  What  is  this  of  love?  If  you  don’t  want  that,  then  what?  What  do  you  want?

All  his  theories  of  her  seemed  to  come  crashing  down  in  that  very  moment.  Annoying  as  it  was,  he’s  still  enamored  by  the  unpredictable  nature  of  humans.  Adam  glanced  outside,  the  sky  darkening  with  a  vibrant  red  to  see  it  off.  He  clicked  his  tongue  and  stepped  back  towards  the  seat  he  was  previously  occupying.  Sitting  down  before  Marianne  he  opened  his  book  one  more  time  for  the  evening.  

first off : felix was the spare to the heir. it just so happened that he had a crest upon being born, which meant that rodrigue and geneva did not have to have another child for just in case purposes, especially given that, as per felix, in faerghus it’s just normal for for small children to be given swords, wave them about, and for nobility to enter the knighthood and risk their lives and so on and so forth. also, they’re a high nobility house, which means that having an extra child really can’t go amiss, especially for the purposes of forming alliances and whatnot.

regardless !! i will talk more about geneva and faerghus in general another time, since this is about specifically rodrigue and glenn.

we all know that felix despises his father by the time the game starts. we are furthermore given a reason for that hatred, in the form of : his glorification of his brother’s death and his dedication TO THE DEAD as opposed to to the living. more about that another time because there are a lot of intersecting headcanons go through in this but, yes. felix despises his father and what he stands for and nobility and the fact that he has his family’s name at the start of the game ; but that isn’t to say that he hates his father. far from it.

felix loves his father, because rodrigue is his father, and because there was not this rift between them when he was young. it’s less that they were particularly close in his childhood ( rodrigue had things to do as the duke of fraldarius and paid most of his attention to glenn as opposed to his youngest, and geneva spent more time with felix relative to rodrigue ) but more that he respected his father and the position that he held growing up. in fact, he held both rodrigue and glenn ( and his mother ) in high esteem and looked up to them as he grew up.

however, glenn’s death, obviously, changed all of that. for the worse.

when felix left home it was without a note. his father sent retainers after him, HIS SOLE HEIR, NOW, and he dispatched them with immense hatred in his heart. he left home after his first battle with dimitri, of course, but more on that later. i think that his father tried to reach out to him over the years, because felix became his only heir, but felix rebuffed any and all attempts at contact. he had become infuriated. embittered. terrified.

glenn, on the other hand, as i’ve mentioned : is someone whom felix respected, held in high esteem, and adored. they sparred often and i like to think that, when the childhood friends quartet weren’t together and glenn was around, he was often chasing behind him : his little shadow. felix wanted to be his equal above all else, back then ———— he wanted to beat him to show that they were on the same level ( and perhaps had a minor inferiority complex because he was THE SPARE TO THE HEIR ) but loved his brother with all of the childhood adoration that could be applied to an older sibling.

my older brother inspired love and loyalty. he loved him. deeply. endlessly. his brother, the boy and the man who he trailed LIKE A SHADOW so often that the servants of the household called him such. glenn’s shadow. where’s your little shadow today, my lord?

felix was destroyed by glenn’s death. so much so that ( in my head ) he began to adopt parts of glenn’s personality and overlaid them on top of his : his sarcasm / his aggressiveness / always looking for a fight. and through his death, his memories of glenn became steadily more tainted until there is no JOY in the recollection of his brother / so rare it is that he speaks of him with a smile on his face / the word brother when applied to him DIRTY.

he wields his brother’s name like a weapon. against ingrid and against his father and speaks of him as if he’s a GHOST HAUNTING HIM to mercedes ———— the only truly almost positive recollection of glenn in the entirety of the game is to byleth, which i both do and don’t count towards felix’s character in general. but, that’s a topic for another time. there is a bitterness with the remembrance of his brother years after his death and it takes years of introspection and the careful dismantling of it all to start to truly, truly, remember him almost fondly. of the time when he was his brother’s shadow.

i’m gonna close this out with : FELIX DOESN’T PROCESS GRIEF WELL. or, really, at all. how he speaks about it, how he deals with it, his anger towards placing the dead above the living and persistently prioritizing the living over the dead at the detriment to his relationships and memories of the people he loves isn’t precisely healthy. he justifies it, of course, as : the living are living, the dead are dead. but he allows his memories to be twisted. he does not grieve appropriately. which leads to his reaction to rodrigue’s death, but. that’s a topic for another time, i think.

*   /   𝐏𝐑𝐄 - 𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒   .

❤️ send to have a romantic ship with my muse

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃. normally, she wasn’t so quick to grab at him let alone his hand in general so when he was now being guided to the living area. he had half a mind to question marianne but then, she began to speak.   ❛   pig man?   ❜   he asked in wonder, it was familiar, yes. but why was that being brought up now of all times? and marianne looked absolutely troubled and distressed over the mere mention of this.

𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 he was comfortable around her … more than others at this point in time. he had burned the bridges to any past friendships he had forged at the academy, that much he knew very well; however, they still viewed dimitri as the man they learned and fought alongside all those years ago. he … didn’t think that way, not anymore at least. those were relations he had to reforge on much better terms when this is all done. but one woman remained the same to him, one woman who was like him in many ways.

khalid’s bday.  ♡   @blutgangs.

   though it was not often, even less so nowadays, khalid had always treated tea-making like a solitary ritual. company came later, of course, but he liked the quiet bubbling of the water as it simmered, opening the small cardamom sachet nader had gifted him long ago, only now resurfacing for this special occasion. despite the bleakness of war, he ought to allow himself some delights. 

   as the leaves steeped, marianne came to him like the small bluebird that perched atop his window sill, just as soon as his morning meditation had ended, or perhaps to act as an extension of it; tentative in its approach, watchful of his body language. it was why he made it a point to convey it gladdened him to see her,  “  as it were, your timing couldn’t have been better, marianne.  ”  it was his turn, then, to observe the finer details in her gait, the hidden hands that only reveal themselves after moments of tentative consideration. when they bloomed open, he caught the remarkable glint of crystal and jade, carved into the shape of a wyvern⸺  or, if he wanted to indulge his wishful thinking, into the shape of his own white-scalled mount, azra.