never, never, never

Author's Notes: written for problematic fire emblem exchange. this got me some hate on FFN from ppl who thought that claude was ooc. i dont really care i think it makes sense within the context of the fic.
WARNING FOR RAPE AND FORCED PREGNANCY

Pure emotion.

That was the only way to describe what was going on with Claude the last few weeks. A tangled mess of pure, unfiltered something—something that he did not like—weaved between every gap of his rib cage and settled into the nooks and crannies of his body. The last time he had felt this was five years ago.

The day that Byleth had disappeared.

Every day, he searched and waited for her. Everyone insisted that she was gone. They told him to give up. He didn’t. Perhaps it would have hurt less over time if he had given into uncertainty and grief like everyone else had. He refused.

There was no way that their teacher—no, she was more than just that—would be so weak. She could take it. There was something special about her. He knew that. He could tell even before she had officially become Garreg Mach staff. Teach was one of the toughest, most capable warriors that Claude ever knew.

It was probably what drew him to her in the first place.

It was also what probably drew Edelgard towards her as well.

The clacking of Byleth’s boots against the marble floor boomed throughout the empty hall. Each frenzied step sounded like thunderclaps. Like the rumbling of the clouds during the storm, the sound of Edelgard’s axe grinding against the once immaculate floor nearly drowned out any other noise and resembled the storm brewing in that large room. Byleth’s grip on the hilt of The Sword of the Creator grew so much that her hands trembled. The distance between her and the armored Empress started to close.

“It seems that my path... ends here,” Edelgard whispered. Aymr fell from her hands and clattered noisily on the marble floor. Her eyes closed as she imagined the bone of the blade fracturing and splintering as her mind spun at her potential defeat.

She stumbled as she reached the end of the hall. Her heavy boots knocked against the stone steps behind her. Her teeth gritted against each other as she spun on her heel to face her potential assailant. Emotions toiled inside of her chest. Fear, anger, guilt, anguish, and pure determination. People were dying. They would always die. Yes, this war cost Fodlan several thousand lives but it was for the betterment of the nation. Her nation. Her nation and its people. If things continued as they were, more would die. More would suffer. Part of her knew that if she lived, more would die in this war. It might prevent more death. So desperately, she wanted to be the one to defeat The Ones Who Slither in The Dark and dismantle the church but perhaps it would be better if it was Claude and their old professor to do it while she was gone.

But, she could not just take it lying down.

“My teacher,” she muttered. Her knees shook underneath her as she watched the former mercenary start to raise her blade. Finally, she collapsed. A sad smile washed across her face as Byleth stood in front of her. Her hand reached for her weapon, something that was just out of her reach, as her eyes met Byleth’s dead—she blinked. Something sparked in the professor’s normally dark and hollow eyes. Her lips were twisted in an expression that Edelgard couldn’t quite read.

“...Will you not claim your victory, my teacher? Why are you waiting to take me out?” A pained laugh escaped the woman as her eyes closed. “Is this my punishment for instigating this conflict? If you do not execute me now, Professor, it may go on forever. More people will die for our causes or perhaps Rhea’s—”

Byleth trembled as she stepped back.

Edelgard blinked once again and stared up at her.

There was that unreadable expression again yet it was different. The green-haired woman’s breath grew heavier as that something sparked within her eyes once again. Intense uncertainty. That was the only way for Edelgard to describe it.

“Please, your path... it lays across my grave! End my life!”

The ‘twang’ of a bow string being released from a pair of fingers echoed in the empty yet heavy air. The arrow whipped through the room. Edelgard’s eyes squeezed themselves shut as she waited for the arrow to pierce her skin—or perhaps Byleth if one of her soldiers managed to get inside—and end her life. It didn’t happen.

Byleth spun on her heel and rose her blade just in the nick of time. The arrow hit the bone of her sword and cracked in half. The older woman panted as she braced herself for a potential barrage. Edelgard sat there in shock. Lavender eyes met forest green ones across the room.

“Teach!” Claude shouted as he rose from his hiding spot. Another arrow was drawn and quickly shot. Byleth deflected that one as well. His voice cracked uncharacteristically as he continued to shoot the two women. Byleth didn’t even have to try to defend her and Edelgard anymore. None of his shots were hitting them anymore. Some whipped past their faces or hit the ground and shattered into uncountable amounts of splinters. Was he doing this on purpose to try to get answers? Or was it the fact that something managed to crack that cool mask of his and worm under his skin, soft and all too vulnerable from years of closing himself off? “What do you think you’re doing!?”

“I’m saving Fodlan.”

Byleth dove forward and grabbed Edelgard’s hand and pulled her to her feet. Adrenaline pulsed through their veins as Byleth blindly dashed towards one of the doors to the side. Arrows continued to tear through the air but they managed to escape.

The last thing Edelgard saw that night was Claude collapsing onto his knees.

“Goddess, Claude, the least you could do is watch the execution,” Lorenz muttered as he followed his captain, who left before Edelgard’s head could even meet the cobblestone of the church’s courtyard.

It didn’t matter to Claude. Edelgard, Byleth, and Lady Rhea had all been found. He didn’t care about the latter. It didn’t matter how weak and regretful she was as she released some of her secrets. Secrets that would have helped them and Fodlan years ago if she thought about anything but herself. Claude supposed that they were similar in some regard. They both needed Byleth for their own needs. His goal was selfless in the grand scheme of things. He was going to build a new world. He just knew that his former teacher would be the key to it all. Five years ago, he imagined it happening differently.

Now, he would have to go about things in a much crueler and more selfish way.

It was fine.

It was to unite Fodlan.

“It’s fine. I trust Nader to finish the job,” he replied coolly. “Now, don’t you have some battle strategy meeting to go to?”

Lorenz blinked. “Will you not be accompanying me? With you as our main strategist and commander, one would assume that...”

Claude chuckled. He turned towards Lorenz and smiled at him. A smile that would have dazzled their fellow students all those years ago, before resting his hand on his shoulder. “I have an important matter to attend to. I trust you, Lorenz, to handle things for now.”

An eyebrow was raised as Lorenz’s indigo eyes stared into Claude’s. That charming smile almost shook him to his core but it didn’t reach his eyes. Something was off. “May I ask what you have planned that is so important that you can’t attend to your duties as Leader of the Alliance?”

Claude waved him off. “To reconnect with our beloved teacher.”

‘To unite Fodlan.’

The sight of Byleth sitting on the edge of her cot greeted Claude once he reached her cell. His heart fluttered as she rose her head. Their eyes met each other. Her lips pressed into a hard line as she broke their gaze. His own lips curled into a smile as the guards opened the cell to him. He waved them off once the door was closed behind him.

“I can take it from here, she’s harmless now.”

Despite the uneasiness worming its way through their veins, the guards nodded and headed off to other parts of the church. That smile of his stayed plastered on his face as he pulled up a chair and sat across from Byleth. Her large eyes constantly flickered from the door to his face. It was so unlike how he normally saw her.

It was cute.

“Claude,” she said finally. “You’ve made a mistake. There’s something d—!!!”

He dove forward and stole her lips. Their teeth clacked against each other as his tongue tried to shove itself into her mouth. His gloved hands gripped her shoulders painfully as he shoved her back onto the cot. The frame creaked under their combined weight. His knees knocked against her hips as his hands slammed against her shoulders, effectively pinning her to the thin mattress. His hips bucked against hers. The soft, generous curves of her body felt almost divine even through the layers of his clothes. Her muffled cries desperately tried to crawl their way out of her throat and into the air. But his kiss snuffed them out.

His tongue dragged across her teeth, snagging against the sharp edges and almost getting caught between them. Her body thrashed under him but he pushed through. She gasped and opened her mouth. His tongue shoved itself into her throat, or as deep into her mouth as he could. Blood washed across their palates as she chomped down on the muscle. Pain split itself through his skull but he continued. Saliva and blood pooled in her mouth and threatened to overflow from the corners of her now bruised lips.

Byleth’s hands pounded against his shoulders as her knees uselessly tried to slam into his crotch that was pressed firmly against her crotch. Another cry, borne out of frustration and determination rather than fear, tried to tear itself from her throat but he simply probed deeper into her overflowing mouth.

Finally, he pulled away. Just enough for their breath to ghost against each other’s lips. Byleth coughed and sputtered under him. Bloody saliva splattered onto his face as he stared down at her. His tongue throbbed as he dragged it across his lips.

“Why?” was all she said once she managed to catch her breath.

“I’m not doing this to punish you, Teach. I promise.” His voice stayed in that playful tone he always kept with her. A gloved hand trailed its way from her shoulder up to her chin to cup it softly. “It’s about my dream. It’s for Fodlan. Almyra. Everyone.”

“How does... Claude, please,” she choked out. Then shot upward. A ‘crack’ exploded through the room as her forehead met his.

Stars exploded in his vision as he temporarily lost his grip. She thrashed under him again. A hiss escaped him as he was effectively pushed off of her. Panic pulsed through his veins as she managed to get up and his ass met the stone floor. He huffed. His hand shot towards her ankle. Then, he yanked backward. She crashed onto the ground. He imagined her grimacing as her chin smashed against the floor. Sympathy pain panged inside his own skull as she trembled on the ground.

He couldn’t stay that way too long. Not with her literally in his grasp.

A grunt escaped him as he stepped on her ankle and moved forward. His hands shook as he freed himself from his pants. His cock, almost painfully hard, throbbed in the air as she tried to pull herself out from under his weight. It was useless. He wouldn’t let her get away. Not again.

His hands gripped onto her shapely hips and yanked them upwards. Or as far as they could get with his boot against her ankle. A sigh escaped him as he positioned his knee to pin her leg to the ground. A hand sank into her plush ass as he watched her writhe on the floor. A shiver ran up his spine as guilt threatened to snake its way into his guts and his heart.

No, his mind was made up.

“Sorry that it had to be this way, Teach,” he muttered. In his mind’s eye, he imagined what she might have looked like as she seethed under him. Her hips squirmed in his grasp but he managed to get a hold on them. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her tiny shorts and lacy hosiery. Shameful arousal thumped in his chest as he yanked them down her shapely ass. Oh, those embarrassing hours he’d waste at night, imagining tearing them off of her and claiming her body for his own.

In those fantasies, he imagined it differently.

Secret rendezvous in the classroom, sauna, or infirmary while Manuela was in the town’s tavern. Perhaps in the hallways between lectures if he felt particularly pent up. He’d paint her skin red and purple with hickeys and from gripping her hips or wrists or thighs a little too tight as he’d force her to cry out and flush. To show him any sort of emotion that wasn’t seemingly cool indifference or forced, awkward smiles that she felt obligated to give him and anyone else. She’d whine and beg for more. She’d stare up at him with watery eyes and her oh-so-kissable lips parted into a heavy pant before he’d dive into the crook of her neck to carve his name into her skin with his tongue. He’d shudder as her cunt, slippery and dripping just for him, clenched and spasmed around his cock.

Pants fell from his lips as he bit the fingers to one of his gloves and yanked them off. The desire to feel her pale flesh against his own grew impossible to ignore. His thumb stroked the cleft of her ass. It dipped between her cheeks and moved downward. With how hard his heart was pounding, he expected it to burst any moment and that supposed Goddess to meet him in the afterlife before damning him to the place of burning.

Byleth hissed as Claude’s thumb stroked her twitching asshole. A soft chuckle escaped him at the reaction. That wasn’t what he was after today. Perhaps if they had more time, they didn’t. But it was an entertaining thought. Eventually, this thumb brushed against her taint and pulled to the side to reveal her cunt.

It felt so soft. Barely damp. But soft. It’d feel so good in just a few moments.

Another huff escaped him.

“I can tell you now, if you really wanna hear, Teach,” he whispered. His other hand stroked her side as the other snaked around to her front. Her skin and the faint tickle of her pubic hair against his palm felt heavenly. He tried to fight off a smirk as she writhed under him again. It wasn’t like her trying to fight him earlier. His fingers disturbed her pubic hair as they delved between her puffy folds. Another shudder wracked her body as he slid his hand further down. The tip of his finger brushed against the hood of her clit. A gasp escaped her. He grinned.

“Claude...”

His finger circled around her clit as his hips rocked against hers. A bead of precum dripped from his tip as his cock ground against her ass, as if he was threatening her with the idea of fucking her raw and dry. He wasn’t. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t do that to her despite everything she had done.

“I’m going to show Fodlan and Almyra that unification is possible. Noble or commoner... Your place of birth... Crest or no crest, it won’t and doesn’t matter,” he breathed. His fingers continued to toy with her clit. She squirmed against him as she tried to bite back any moans or shuddering breaths. “Once this is all over, the people will need something to prove we can all unite.”

“Claude...?” Byleth choked out.

“I came here intending to do this. I was just hoping you’d be more... compliant, but that’s the Ashen Demon for you, I guess. The moment you started fighting back, I knew it wasn’t going to go the way I wanted. But I’m too close to give up now.”

“Claude, please just—mmnhhghh!”

A shameful moan spilled from Byleth’s lips as the pad of his finger ground against her stiff bud. Arousal began to seep from her entrance. He felt her quake under him as her body began to give in.

“Those guys that Your Highness and Hubert mentioned before she was taken care of? Those Who Slither in the Dark or something? I’ll take care of them too, I’m not stupid. My dream can’t be a reality if they’re still mucking around. Even if I can’t be the one to do it...” His voice grew heavier as he pulled his hand away from her cunt. He couldn’t see it but he could feel her slick coating his fingers and connecting them to her now dripping pussy. “Future generations might be able to.”

Byleth froze. “You... you can’t be...”

With that, his cock slid into her tight cunt. A loud, drawn-out groan escaped Claude as every inch sank inside her. Her walls clenched around his shaft and forced him to shudder. She was so snug and wet. He sore she was trying to push him out of her, she was so tight around him.

“You’re going to bare my child... Children.”

Any fight Byleth had left in her escaped her body. She grew slack against him as the realization that he was going to breed her and birth little pawns for his goals—as righteous and well-intentioned as they could be, though forever tainted by what he had done tonight—and she could do nothing about it. Not unless she took some serious risks. Risks that he wasn’t going to let her take.

“We can show the world... we can show the world that peace is possible. What... better way to show that than to show... someone who led and then betrayed us... came back and gave birth to heroes that anyone could get along without the church, without nobility, and fear... Mnnhnm... You feel real good, Teach,” he muttered as he leaned against her. His breath ghosted across her neck as his hands clenched around her hips. The one hand stayed between her legs, his fingers a blur against her poor clit, and the other gripped tighter onto her to keep her somewhat upright. “I’ll protect you and the children. I’ll be a good father. Nothing’s gonna happen to them or you. Not on my watch. You’re too important. They’ll be too important.”

Muffled whimpers filled the air as Claude’s pelvis smacked against hers. The clapping of skin and the sloshing of her arousal could probably be heard in the hall. He watched as her flesh rippled with each thrust. He wished he could watch her face as his cock stretched her to her very limits. He wished he could watch her eyes roll back, her fat tits bounce with every impact, her lips part as he forced out every little gasp and moan from her chest. He could, but he didn’t want to risk things.

She wasn’t fighting back now but the possibility of her gaining another second wind and escaping him hung above his head.

Another time, perhaps.

If he had his way, he’d have the rest of their lives to live out those fantasies.

His balls smacked against her lips and his fingers. Her walls clenched around him once again. Another rush of juices splashed against his body while he drilled into her.

“What names would you want? I was thinking... Parisa... or Fatiha for our first girl,” he laughed airily between moans. “For a boy... Dammit!”

His breath caught in his throat as she spasmed under him. Her cunt clenched and squeezed as high-pitched and girlish moans tore themselves from her throat. He watched as her hands reached in front and beside her. Her fingers twitched as her hips bucked and writhed against him. Then, she froze. Tiny spasms rolled through her body as her cunt grew hotter, wetter, and even tighter. Another moan escaped him as she twitched around him as if her body was trying to coax every seed of his into her womb. A joke about her body wanting him to succeed crossed his mind but he kept it to himself.

“Alright, since... y-you want it...” Claude’s voice trembled as his thrusts grew wilder. With each thrust, his cock grew shinier with her arousal that glossed his skin. His fingers grew clumsier but never stopped, much to her chagrin. She whined and nearly sobbed as he squeezed another orgasm—or perhaps drew out her earlier one—from her again and again. His cock throbbed as his own peak grew closer and closer...

Then, everything felt white.

Warmth spread itself through him as he filled her to the very brim. His seed painted every part of her womb and cunt a milky white. It pooled inside of her and eventually dripped onto the stone under her as he pulled out. He panted as he watched the aftermath of his handiwork in front of him.

“I don’t mind trying again later... but, let’s hope that we got it on the first try, alright?”

Byleth laid there almost completely still. The only movements he could see were her breathing and her slow blinks.

Manuela watched as one of Byleth and Claude’s youngest scampered across the room. Warmth blossomed in her chest as the pitter-patter of tiny feet filled the air. Their clumsy, wobbly steps, the squeaks of delight and sometimes too loud laughter that pierced her eardrums, the way their eyes lit up as they gave her a toothy smile, it all made her ache. She wasn’t one for children. At least, she had thought so. What with her age, her penchant for wine and ale, and general sloppiness, it didn’t seem like it’d be a good fit even after she retired from the opera.

Seeing Byleth, stoic and strong Byleth, seemingly swelled up with children at all times and being cared for by her former student awoke something in the elder woman.

She herself was too old for children, Manuela thought. So, she couldn’t help but live through Byleth. Pangs of guilt rang through her heart at that realization. Byleth didn’t seem to mind.

“They’re growing up too fast,” she said finally. “I remember when Little Jeralt was actually little... Now he’s off helping the former Empire make reparations with Brigid and Dagda.”

Byleth simply nodded. The way the sunlight hit her hair, a once beautiful shade of seafoam green that lightened to an almost sickly off-white, made her glow. An unnatural glow that didn’t come with maternity. One that Byleth never seemed to have despite her and Claude—Khalid, that was what he was going by now, really, she had to be better about this—ravenous libido. Manuela’s eyes followed the curves of her silhouette. A once strong and firm if curvaceous figure had softened and filled out. Her breasts, heavy and swollen with milk, sagged from feeding her children back-to-back for nearly two decades. Her stomach was round and taut. Her hands stayed on her knees, away from her stomach which was full of life.

‘Yet another child,’ Manuela mused to herself with a jealous sigh. “How far along are you?”

Byleth blinked. Something sparked in her eyes. It was one of the first bursts of emotion the diva had seen from her in years. It stirred something in her stomach. Manuela’s eyebrows knitted themselves together as she watched the younger woman squirm in her seat.

“I... I don’t...” She bit her lip. The faintest of trembles could be felt deep within Manuela’s bones. “...It all blends together.”

Manuela raised an eyebrow. “Does it?”

A dry laugh escaped the other woman. “When... you’ve been... ah. Never mind.”

Byleth shook her head. Her hand shook as she placed it onto her stomach. It was stiff. Rehearsed. Like that of a marionette performed by an amateur. Her hand stroked her belly in slow circles as her lips quirked into a half smile that seemed to split her frozen face in two. “I’m hoping for another boy, this time around.”

“I would have thought that you would have wanted another girl like precious little Parisa or Fatiha,” Manuela laughed nervously. Her hand reached for Byleth’s. “...Goddess knows there isn’t enough testosterone in your home.”

Byleth’s eyes slowly closed. “I just... worry about them. The future.”

“Things are peaceful now thanks to Cl-Khalid and Lorenz’s efforts. What do you have to worry about, my dear?”

Byleth swallowed. Her other hand rose and waved dismissively. “Never mind. Tell me about your and Lorenz’s plans. Khalid mentioned a school in Gloucester territory?”

“...Alright.”

When Lorenz and Khalid returned from their meeting, Byleth left without a word. The most she did was give the noble a small bow before leaving. Manuela swallowed as the darkness swallowed up her friend. The faint muffled sound of children in other rooms could still be heard. It once filled her with light but now left her with an uneasiness that swam in her stomach. It churned as she stepped to her husband’s side. Khalid grinned as he told his queen that he’d be in their chambers soon.

She swallowed once again.

“I apologize for my absence, Beloved. I was telling Claude—” Lorenz started only for Manuela to hush him. “Oh, how unbecoming of me, Khalid. I had been referring to you as that all day. My apologies.”

“It’s fine. Old habits die hard.” The man crossed his arms. “Yeah, sorry about that, Manuela. Lorenz was telling me more about your plans for a school near Sauin. I thought it was an incredible idea. Would you like some help making that a reality?”

The woman blinked and sputtered. “Yes, I... that would be incredibly generous. I wouldn’t want to trouble you...”

“Nonsense. Byleth seemed to like the idea too when I mentioned it the other day.”

Manuela nodded. “Speaking of... she seemed...” The words caught in her throat as her eyebrows furrowed. “...Off.”

Khalid’s head tilted to the side. “Off?”

“Off as in... Quiet.” She paused. In all honesty, it was probably the most she heard the woman speak in a long time when she thought about it. “Fewer words than usual.”

“Well, you know that Teach was hardly the most talkative even back in the day. Most I ever heard her talk outside of lessons was on the battlefield.” A sigh escaped him. “Though, if it’s enough for you to notice... I’ll keep an eye on her.”

With the heat of the Almyran sun beating down on them, those words were more than enough for Manuela to feel as if ice water was thrown at her back. Her blood ran cold as something gnawed away at her insides. But what could she do? She couldn’t even pin down why she felt this uneasiness.

Lorenz wrapped an arm around her and rubbed her shoulder. “We’ll be here for the next few days, Beloved. Perhaps Byleth will recuperate from whatever is ailing her with your companionship.”

Khalid smiled. “She’d love that.”

With that, the couple left. Manuela chewed on her painted lips as they made their way back to the inn—something that she only now wondered about. There was more than enough space for them at Byleth’s home, wasn’t there? Lorenz had brushed it aside as they wanted to give the other space, especially as time passed and more children had arrived.

Things had to be alright, didn’t they? For her own peace of mind.

Byleth’s breath hitched as her husband’s lips brushed along her pulse. Faint and weak but still there. Small trembles ran through her tensed muscles and locked-up limbs. It wouldn’t be enough to deter Claude.

It never was.

The scratch of his facial hair against her shoulder and neck made her skin regrettably heat up. It was as if her body was trained to respond positively to every touch of his to make things easier. She knew better than to fight back. She had given in so easily their first time, after all. A voice rang at the back of her head—part of her wondered if it was Sothis after all these years—told her to fight back but it was snuffed out. The moment his lips met her ear lobe, all will to fight left her body. Her limbs felt as if they were made of stone and she was drowning.

Her mind drifted as he rolled her onto her back.

She held her breath as he parted her legs and positioned himself between them. His hands stroked her swollen belly and he murmured something saccharine to her and his unborn child. She never responded. He didn’t mind that she wouldn’t acknowledge his honeyed words. She imagined it was something he said to convince himself that this was anything but it actually was.

It used to form a pit in her stomach. Everything that she thought she loved about him—his smile, his eyes, his laughter, his wit—back in the day made her sick. Used to make her sick. Now, she was numb to it. She had to be numb to it to survive.

Her eyes fluttered closed as he prepped her for his cock.

‘Lay back and do this for Fodlan,’ she thought bitterly to herself. Her nation’s name rang in her mind like the bells at Garreg Mach once did. Do it for her students, both dead and alive, and their families. Do it for anyone but herself.

‘For Fodlan.’