Work Text:
Extended Play
Love Is A Weapon
Felix Fraldarius @saintfelix
who actually cares if you’re about to start a massive international tour? songwriting is a never ending process.
12.8k Replies • 41.1k Retweet • 763k Likes
Glenn Fraldarius @glennfraldarius Replying to @saintfelix
Oh, so THIS is what you were brooding about then.
Celine (FOXBOROUGH, NIGHT 1) @popefelixvi Replying to @saintfelix
break up song???? (/hj)
trophy wife 🏆@sylvaingautier Replying to @popefelixvi
If it is, this is how I’m finding out about it.
Celine (FOXBOROUGH, NIGHT 1) @popefelixvi Replying to @sylvaingautier
OH NO LMAO I HOPE NOT THEN OMFG—GO BUY HIM A STEAK AND CHEESE SANDWICH FROM MB QUICK!!!!
Byleth is: on vacation 🎣 @byletheisner Replying to @saintfelix
It’s both incredibly interesting and frustratingly annoying to witness whatever switch flips in your head that puts you into writing mode. Especially when you forgo scheduled plans for it.
ellie @nettelixtruther Replying to @saintfelix
omg… could this be an ANNETTE song???
Felix Fraldarius @saintfelix Replying to @byletheisner
shhhh, go back to your fishing trip and disregard me.
Track I
Felix longed for death. Well, admittedly that was dramatic, but how else does one articulate their feelings about watching their childhood best friend—turned political nemesis—turned friend again, and their literal boss make bedroom eyes at one another every time they're in the same room?
If he’d known this was the outcome he’d have told Riegan to so fuck himself and stayed with UMG.
Dimitri only had one foot out of his transparent closet; he’s almost assuredly a virginal flower who up until a year ago earnestly believed sex was to be saved for marriage. Yet here he is undressing Claude with his eyes. It reminds Felix of how Dimitri used to look at Glenn—except now he’s learned what his dick likes. Oddly, Claude’s been giving off the impression he’s interested, and not in the way he usually is when he’s collecting people to further his goals.
The worst part? Felix can't make himself look away. As if his newest hobby’s people watching, and the only people he could be fucked to observe are Dimitri Blaiddyd and Claude von Riegan. Whatever ends up happening, it’s destined to be a spectacular trainwreck, or timeless love story—and Felix hadn’t been able to stop writing about it from the moment he picked up his pen.
He was in the green room after their first show in Boston. People were celebrating that everything went off without a hitch after the months of work, anticipation, and anxiety it would implode. That’s when it started—well perhaps not started—but it’s the first time Felix witnessed it.
Claude’s there because of course he is, they’d announced their switch to Failnaught Music Group the Monday after Canard released. It was the most predicted departure of the year; Moralta would follow Byleth wherever they went, especially after everything they’d done for the band. Failnaught had a huge financial interest in this tour being reviewed well, so Claude came to assure it was money well spent.
Dimitri’s there because he and Glenn invited him, part of that mending fences shit they’d been working at. Felix even swallowed his pride and covered his favourite Annette song. Even though it was several shades of strange to sing a song he knew was written about him. At least it was one of the ones she wrote before their relationship fell to pieces.
The two of them circled each other for hours; always slightly out of reach, never talking to the same group at the same time. But Felix noticed the inappropriately long stares.
When Sylvain sat down beside him he’d leaned over and whispered into his ear, “I’m not crazy right? Dima and Claude keep finding each other no matter where they are in the room?”
“They started this last July,” Sylvain murmured against the shell of his ear.
“No shit.”
“Yeah, remember Edie’s exhibit at ICA? I noticed it then.” Sylvain threaded their fingers together and Felix allowed his head to rest on his shoulder.
“Christ,” Felix said with a laugh. “That’s nearly a year—Dimitri hadn’t even figured out he didn’t like women yet.”
“Mhm.” Sylvain hummed, giving the top of Felix’s head a kiss.
Felix sighed, closing his eyes and digesting it for a while. He tuned out the sound of Dedue and Glenn nearby discussing some orchid they both coveted—that required strict temperature and humidity control. There’s a fleeting thought Midas could live with Ashe and Dedue with Glenn and that would solve their plant problems. Then they wander right back to Dimitri, who’s never dated beyond the girls Felix’s father had set him up with over the years. Claude was going to bring either revelation or ruin; heaven or hell.
“Hey, Syl—” Felix shot upright abruptly, “—can you grab my notebook for me?”
“Uh… sure,” he answered, scrambling from the sofa towards Felix’s unholy collection of notepads. When he returned he sank back onto the cushions and handed him the navy blue journal and a black pen.
Felix flipped it to the first blank page and scribbled a couple sentences onto the lined paper whilst Sylvain watched in fascination.
You’re my heaven, and I’m your hell.
He’s my ????, and I can tell you’re falling.
He’d end up spending the rest of the night jotting down random notes while he watched the two of them dance just out of reach from one another. Unbelievable, this couldn’t be happening. Felix had to be losing his mind—but Sylvain had noticed it too. That meant Dimitri’s first real crush was on Claude von Riegan. The man who considered every one of his relationships to be a necessary means to an end.
Christ, Felix realized this was what people meant when they said it was hard to look away from a disaster.
Track II
The first weekend of June was warm for once. Which meant they all landed at the Blaiddyd estate the day before Sylvain’s birthday, intending to celebrate like they were teenagers again. It wasn't meant to be an extravagant affair with a big guest list: Two-thirds of the group are couples, Ingrid’s brought Leon, Hilda is chronically single, and Dorothea has Edelgard in tow as expected. Somehow, Felix wasn’t even surprised when Claude showed up; it turns out he heard about the festivities from Dimitri and invited himself. Even if Felix had wanted to tell him to fuck off—well it was Dimitri’s house.
It was a mostly chill night, they reminisced of the stupid things they did as children, Sylvain and Ingrid filled in more of the gaps from the years they’d spent apart. The awkward dates, revelations, and self discovery. By the end of it Felix was the only one who hadn’t caught a stray over some weird high school sweetheart he exchanged promise rings with. (Because it had never happened, his high school out west was queer and horny, amongst other things.)
As the alcohol continued to flow and people became progressively more inebriated, they began to splinter off into groups. Sylvain was huddled on the sofa with Dorothea, Edelgard, and Hilda scheming something. Midas was enraptured by one of Ingrid and Leon’s horse talks, likely encouraged by the devil’s lettuce. Dimitri and Claude were… hidden away in another room, closer to one another than they needed to be to hear each other speak. Claude said something, his lips upturned; Dimitri’s face flushed redder. If anyone noticed how intently Felix watched the two, they’d get the wrong impression he’s sure.
Felix nudged Glenn who regarded him with a healthy amount of curiosity and knowing. “Brother chat, outside so I can have a cigarette.”
“Ahhh, evoking the sacred rite to privately talk to your brother—it must be dire,” he teased and Felix rolled his eyes. He shoved him gently before trudging out the sliding door onto the slate patio, Glenn not too far behind him.
He dropped himself onto one of the fancy garden chairs and pulled his lighter and cigarettes from his jacket. It was cool out thanks to the breeze off the water. “They’re driving me insane,” Felix muttered, placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting the end.
“Who? Dimitri and Claude?” Glenn asked, standing upwind of the stream of smoke escaping Felix’s lungs as he exhaled.
“Sylvain said it’s been going on for a year, has Dimitri… said anything about it?”
“Cute you’d think he’d come to me for such things.” Glenn snorted and Felix shot him a long-suffering scowl. “Okay, okay, he may have mentioned he was interested in a guy—he didn’t say who—he’s just not very subtle.”
“He’s going to get his heart crushed.”
“Again, cute that you care about him Fe, even when you’re being a prickly little twit about it, but that’s just a lesson he’s gonna have to learn isn’t it?”
Felix sighed, resting his chin against the heel of his palm, the cigarette dangling idly in the other. “What do you think Claude wants from him?”
“I know you find it hard to believe considering your history with him but… sometimes people just date because they like each other,” Glenn said, snorting softly. “Sometimes there isn’t an ulterior motive.”
“Considering who Dimitri is—do you believe there isn’t one?”
“Honestly? Not a clue.” Glenn laughed when Felix’s scowl reintensified. “I mean, objectively though, I don’t think there’s anything Dima can give the guy like career wise, you know?”
He frowned, but considered it. Dimitri had a fortune for sure, but Claude wasn’t really strapped for cash. And his political affiliations certainly wouldn’t do him any favours—if anything they were harmful to Claude’s entire brand. For as sketchy as he often was, platforming queer artists whilst cozying up to right-wingers was low even by his standards.
Felix flicked the end of his cigarette and ash floated delicately to the ground. “Fine, so say there’s no agenda. Claude just finds Dimitri… interesting and attractive?” He took a final dredge from the cigarette before putting it out against the stone.
“Remind me which one of us has the shit vision again?”
“Oh fuck off.”
“No seriously, have you looked at Dima lately?”
“I don’t window shop,” Felix groused, making Glenn laugh.
“Well whatever, let them be, it’ll work out in the end, or it won't." Glenn shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted between his heel and his toes.
“I can’t stop watching them like it’s some kind of disaster tourism.” Felix sighed, slouching in his chair. “Worse—I can’t stop writing about it.”
“Yeah I saw the tweets. You know what they say, it's hard to find something to write about happy relationships—though I suppose our fans would like to hear you sing about how good Sylvain is in bed.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Thank God, because honestly, I’d rather drink laundry detergent than sing backing vocals for it.”
“Could you be any more of a millennial?” Felix asked, pulling his phone from his jeans and opening his notes app and tapping the keyboard idly.
Don’t take the liar to your heart (head?)
He’ll be the one to _________
“You gonna let me help with this one?” Glenn asked, watching him over his shoulder.
“Depends on what you want to do with it.”
Glenn read the fragmented pieces of lyrics under his breath; immune to Felix’s chaotic, non-linear writing process. He idly tapped the back of the chair clearly envisioning a rhythm. “It needs a brass band—think Octave would volunteer any of his students?”
“As if you have to ask.”
“Anyway let me take a crack at the lyrics when you have most of it done,” Glenn said, ruffling Felix’s hair, making it even more unruly. Without another word, he retreated back into the mansion. Leaving Felix alone with the sound of the waves breaking against the shore.
He was still sitting in the chair in the dark, with his eyes closed when he heard the patio door slowly open and close. The footsteps dragged along the slate, which told him it wasn’t Sylvain. He heard Dimitri’s startled, “oh!” When he got close enough to see Felix.
“Hey, what brings you to my humble hiding place?” Felix asked, teasingly.
“Ah, I needed some space, your—” Dimitri trailed off with a wince, “Claude, he’s quite intense isn’t he?”
“Intense in what way?” He asked, watching Dimitri in his periphery.
“He speaks about things he cares about with the same conviction as El,” Dimitri answered, sitting in one of the nearby chairs.
“Oh that, yeah. He’s all about disrupting the status quo, wants to give opportunities to people without industry connections and shit. Thinks queer, and controversial art should get the same marketing as whatever pretty blonde pop star is the GP’s current musical darling.”
Dimitri chuckled softly and stared up at the sky. “He was just telling me how queer people are often the lifeblood of fan spaces—that labels know this enough to exploit it—but never take the money earned from that exploitation and invest it back into queer artists.”
“He’s not wrong, when we first signed with Universal we were basically told to prove ourselves before they financially committed to marketing us,” Felix said, tilting his head to look at Dimitri. “If you look at all the initial branding for Moralta you’ll notice they put Glenn in the spotlight—they claimed was because he was more mature, and better at speaking to media than I was—but if that were the only reason, why did it change when the fandom naturally gravitated to me?”
“I suppose it is as people say: Corporations only see value in the oppressed and disadvantaged when it’s financially feasible.”
“That from one of El’s social justice lectures?”
“I will have you know, I do occasionally partake in supplementary reading on my own, Felix,” Dimitri said with a wry smile.
“Good, you should; no point in trading one echo chamber for another.” He stretches his hands ahead of him and groans softly. “So what is actually going on between you and my boss?” Felix smirked when Dimitri suddenly cleared his throat.
“I’m not sure exactly how to label it, if I’m being honest,” he whispered, fidgeting with the cuff of the sleeve of his button up.
“Staring at him from across every room, accidentally inviting him to your friend's birthday party, hiding away and getting cozy with each other—I get the impression if I looked through your phone, I’d probably find that you’re messaging each other constantly.” Even under the veil of darkness the night sky provided, Felix could see Dimitri’s face flushing red.
“Obviously… I like him.”
“Even though you know he’s slippery, and scheming and there might be some fucked up agenda?” Felix asked, still watching Dimitri.
There’s a long silence, Felix could see Dimitri thinking about it. As if he’s trying to find the correct words to articulate his thoughts regarding this vague situationship he’d gotten himself into with Claude. Eventually he shook his head and laughed, looking up from his shirt sleeve to meet Felix’s gaze.
“If I’m being honest, I’ve been the subject of people's ulterior motives all my life—this may be the first time in a long time it hasn’t felt like that—like I’m some means to an end.”
Felix’s lips slowly turned upward, he shook his head and huffed. “Then I guess… well maybe you can trust your gut.”
He closed his eyes and allowed the conversation to wane, enjoying the rhythmic sound of the ocean when it came ashore. It seemed the years had made Dimitri highly attuned to how it felt to be exploited; suppose they were the same in that regard. But maybe he didn’t need Felix to show him all the red flags and warning signs, because he was fully capable of seeing them for himself. Perhaps he’d always been able to, and as hard as it was for Felix to believe, maybe Claude was pursuing Dimitri just because he liked him. Not because he’d performed some fucked up risk assessment and determined the value exceeded the harm.
Maybe Claude was capable of dropping all his bullshit pretense and being human afterall.
That tiny fragment of hope was enough to let Felix find some peace.
Liked by @khalidvonriegan, @glennfraldarius, @sylvaingautier and 7,282,386 others
@saintfelix do you ever just watch people and think of things?
See all 92,488 comments
@glennfraldarius Behold, Felix’s prowess for cringe doodles.
@popefelixvi I didn’t expect this is how your handwriting would look!
@sylvaingautier @popefelixvi his autograph leaves much to be desired lol
Celebrity Updates @celebupdates
Claude von Riegan & Dimitri Blaiddyd were together during the Boston Pride Festival.
[IMAGE: Photo of Claude and Dimitri in the Boston Common crowd at the end of the parade route. Claude is wearing his hair as usual and wearing a yellow tank top with black joggers, there’s a rainbow bandanna tied around his left bicep. Dimitri has his hair tied back into a pony tail and he’s wearing a pale blue button down shirt and blue canvas shorts, he has an arm around Claude’s shoulders.]
1.9k Replies • 5.2k Retweets • 32K Likes
Celine (FOXBOROUGH, NIGHT 1) @popefelixvi Replying to @celebupdates
BOSTON PRIDE HAS CLAIMED ANOTHER VICTIM FOR THE GAYS.
trophy wife 🏆 @sylvaingautier Replying to @popefelixvi
Maybe we should take bets on who’ll be next?
Felix Fraldarius @saintfelix Replying to @popefelixvi and @sylvaingautier
Sorry my bad, I was trying to turn the frogs gay.
Khalid @khalidvonriegan Replying to @celebupdates
What an attractive couple. 😏