#nonbinary byleth

another piece I forgor, for the selfsame calendar zine no less!! What makes things more embarrassing is the irony of forgetting when I was assigned the first month of the year.

N,,, nonbinary byleth

I'm gonna go with NB Byleth here, half because that's how I always see Byleth, and half because Male Byleth will forever be known as Adel to me and trying to do otherwise would feel weird XD

AlsopleasekeepinmindIhaventseenHubertssupportswithBylethsouhhhMAKINGTHISUPASIGO

While Byleth is still a professor, I like to think that there were many times where Hubert would see them doing some very late-night grading. After the first few times of seeing this (and seeing how tired Byleth was the next day) he approached them and offered to help with grading papers. Only so that their professor didn't fall asleep during class and thus possibly impair Lady Edelgard's edycation, of course, not because he was worried. Byleth did accept, and it ended up becoming a habit that whenever Byleth ended up falling behind on grading papers, Hubert would lend a hand.

Edelgard once asked if it was because Hubert was perhaps fond of Byleth, and cared for them. Hubert denied it immediately, mostly because he hadn't really given thought to the idea.

Imagine though! Byleth going through the confession box as usual, and seeing a familiar student's handwriting (one that they had seen before, confessing to a fear of heights). They read through it, and all it says is this: "I believe I've become...fond, of someone. I'm not quite sure if I can afford to be, though, given my responsibilities. Nor do I think myself deserving of it."

The next day, Hubert goes to retrieve the note, feeling rather silly about it, and realizes he had gotten a response. He flips it over, reading the words written on the back.

"You deserve to be someone outside of just your responsibilities. It's fine to be fond of someone that isn't tied to your duty. You deserve to be loved as well, I promise."

(I also like to think that Hubert helped a lot after Jeralt's death. He'd periodically check on them, or at least try if they didn't completely shut themselves in their room. Probably the most worried a good chunk of the students would ever see Hubert being over someone that wasn't Edelgard.)

In which the students experience Byleth's phantom memories from Divine Pulse

Starring Nonbinary Byleth, Edelgard and Ferdinand

Sorry It's not that long

Requested by @risualto

The sun of the Verdant Rain moon beat down, drawing sweat from everyone's skin. Byleth gasped for air after dodging a flying ax at their head. They coughed, trying their best to regain balance. Jacket flung to the side, they took up running again to block an attack from connecting with Ferdinand. The ball of magic slammed into their sword, knocking them back into the orange-haired boy. Ferdinand yelped at the sudden contact, falling back underneath his professor's weight.

"Sorry," Byleth grunted, heaving themself off the boy. They started to run to the next fight when they realized Ferdinand was still sprawled on his back, chest heaving. Apparently, a bandit also noticed, as he began charging towards the nobleman, who was still trying to regain his breath. The man raised his ax, aiming to strike it down right into Ferdinand's chest.

"No!" They screeched. A purple aura pulsed from Byleth's fingertips, spreading to cover the entirety of their vision. When it retracted again, they were standing beside Ferdinand, who was still lying on the ground. Byleth pulled him up onto their shoulder, carrying him away from the battlefield. 

He was safe once more.

Ferdinand was okay.

All around, the members of the Golden Coalition topple, clutching their ears as Dorothea screams. The tires of Caspar’s newest getaway car squeal as he swings around the corner, and with a grin of their own, Byleth slips inside and slams the door shut.

Sentimentality is a pursuit best reserved for old men and fools, especially in the face of momentous victory, but then, Seteth has been both for quite some time now. Garreg Mach sings with cheer and divine relief, and has ever since he’d returned to deliver the news of the war’s end, but he finds himself drawn far more to melancholy, even as the revelry surrounding the new archbishop’s appointment draws deep into the night for a week with no end. Guilt draws heavy curtains across the shadowed alcoves of his mind until all he knows is a deep, unabiding self-loathing.