#Manuela is trying so hard bless her

[ladivamagnifica]

Cosy House (Manuela and Sakura)

@gentlenekomata

Three knocks in quick succession had Manuela rushing to check her makeup one last time. This might not have been a date, but it certainly warranted pulling out all the stops- she had even cleaned her quarters from top to bottom for this!

It had all started three days ago when, quite unexpectedly, Manuela had chanced upon hearing the divine voice of Lady Ichinomiya Sakura, one of the princesses of Hoshido. Rubbing shoulders with royalty and nobility was nothing new to the songstress of course, but even Manuela was in awe of her voice- so foreign yet elegant in its intonation, and wholly something she needed to hear more of, but of course it was simply bad manners to ask a princess to perform on a whim, so Manuela had mustered the courage to invite the lady to dinner at her apartment one evening. If nothing else, the pleasant company would be more than enough. Yet trouble had started when she realised that she had no bloody clue what sort of foods Lady Sakura did or did not eat; worse still was that in order to make a good first impression, Manuela also needed to be an excellent chef… which she certainly was not. She considered herself decent enough when she helped out in the kitchens of the monastery, but for years now the art of cooking had been a skill she had no need to practise- as a prima donna she employed her own personal chef for the townhouse, and here in the monastery the kitchen staff and others did most of the cooking, except when the schedule had put her down for the responsibility. 

So, in what she had thought as an excellent judgement, Manuela had asked Sakura’s retainers on what the lady preferred when eating in the company of others. The consensus had been fried chicken…  At least it was a simple dish to prepare, and that was all she would say about that, even if it did perplex her how such a woman of grace and beauty liked something so greasy and acne-inducing.

But alas, that was not the end of it, for further issues arose when Manuela realised that, try as she might, it was impossible for her to make anything fried without it being unpalatable and dry; the Hoshido sauce she had attempted to make from scratch was also a dud, and with each failed attempt, she grew more and more desperate for it to work- she would not serve anything else to the princess, and in order for this evening to bear fruit of musical collaboration, she had to serve fried hoshido chicken!

In the end, two hours before Sakura was due to arrive, Manuela had admitted defeat and paid an eye-watering amount to some of the students of the academy to make her the dish and deliver it in time for the princess’ arrival. Which left her just enough time to freshen up and add the finishing touches to welcoming her guest, including dusting off for the third time her newly purchased shamisen and koto which now sat near her dining table, next to her violin, lyre, harp and organetto. The red rug of her room had been freshly beaten; the surfaces spotless, and the folding screen, another new purchase, did well to separate her bed from the space, as she was well aware that nobles thought it unseemly for a meeting space to have direct line of sight to the sleeping area- her bed was made though, just in case!

“Lady Sakura, I’m honoured that you made it. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable while I put on some tea.” Manuela wore her most brilliant smile and bowed, holding the door open for the princess who crossed past the threshold.

As the kettle on the fireplace began to boil, Manuela retrieved the still steaming-hot baskets of fried chicken (that had the richest, shiniest red glaze Manuela had ever seen and smelt divine) from the mantle of the fireplace, placing them on the table and sitting up straight to mimic the perfect posture of Sakura, though as her back was used to being hunched over her instruments and patients, it soon protested with a persistent and dull ache.

"How was your day, Lady Sakura? I'd be delighted to hear about what keeps a lady of such stature as yourself busy during the daylight hours."

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 143 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: mowing the lawn.

BASIRA: "Eyes peeled." [PAUSE.] JON: "Was that a joke?" BASIRA: "Yeah." That is exactly my kind of joke! xD Absolutely love it!

BASIRA: "Where is everybody?" MANUELA: (scoffs) "Go to hell!" JON: (overlapping) "Answer her." [BIG, BOOMING STATIC AGAIN.] MANUELA: "They’re dead. Because of you.” So yes, following up on MAG 141 (Jon telling Floyd to take a break, though that seemed to be more hypnotic than compulsive), can Jon just tell people what to do, is that something that was included in the latest compulsion patch? I don't think it happens again... Yeah, Jon tells Manuela (and also Peter in MAG 159) "tell me", but that’s just a follow-up to the question he already asked.

"Three hundred years from the failure that birthed the thing that preached from the depths of Maxwell Rayner." Wait, so is it not Halley in there anymore? Or am I taking it too literally, and it was still him but now one with the Dark.

"It was to be a week of night and horror, culminating in the eclipse that passed over Ny-Ålesund on the 20th of March, 2015" So on the 15th of March/May/whatever it was still the buildup phase of the ritual. Which was convenient for Gertrude, because she didn't have to rely so much on just one specific point in time to get her plan done. (Didn't work out in the end though, but well...) Also coming back to March/May, May for the Hither Green collapse doesn’t make any sense. MAG 11 was in March, in MAG 40 Elias says March. In rl the eclipse in Norway was also on the 20th March 2015, not May. 

"To begin our seven day feast, we slew the still and lightless beast, and drank of its stagnant blood, submerging the first of the sacrifices in the brackish water it had blessed with its stillness." The Lightless Beast was my favorite monster, RIP v.v So sad it ended that way, I wish there would have been more. Whenever it got some screen time, I got goosebumps.

"But I remember her brute of a husband. He fed the beast for us, you know, when first he believed Lynette might still be saved. Then, later, we faithful served as his fuel to banish it." Okay, am I understanding this correctly: First Robert Montauk fed the beast, then he tried to banish the beast. So which one of those two where the hearts for? I'd say banishing it? Because he did that right until he got arrested, so if the banishment came later, that would match. Also in that moment, when he stabbed the heart, the beast vanished (and that blue light - the light also probably being more a sign of banishment than feeding). Also Rayner says “You didn’t think you could kill it for long, did you?" Kill it sounds more like banishing. What was feeding it then? Those victims on the photos with the symbols on their faces?

"That’s the thing about darkness, isn’t it? You try your hardest to eradicate, flood your surroundings with light, but it’s always there at the edges, waiting for the glow to weaken, to return and cover you forever." Hmmm. If I recall correctly, that is what they used in Lights Out, the feature length film to the eponymous short movie it was based on. God, that short film was excellent, the feature length not so much. Some things only work as short stories and trying to stretch it out and add more and more makes it feel forced.

Just quickly pointing out that Manuela is such a theater kid... the drama of her phrasing! xD

This statement is, I think, the closest we ever get to "delusional" rambling of a cult member about their god(s). I very much dislike those, not because they're scary, but because I find them annoying. It’s the reason why I have such a hard time with The Silt Verses and it also annoyed me in Tunnels. It's just not something for me. And yet, while this statement also has the overly dramatic tone and rambling about worshiping and such, it doesn't annoy me. It's not that strong in a way that I have encountered in other stories. But, it's also not something I find particularly engaging for me.

BASIRA: "Ask her how we can destroy it." JON: "I know how. I just need to see it." The Dark is antithetical to the Eye. The Dark Sun, in its ritual purpose, is supposed to erase sight forever. A thing like this being actually seen by someone who is all about sight, who then even lived to tell the tale makes it lose its power. I love how everything makes sense in this goddamn podcast (except for a few timelines xD).

BASIRA: (overlapping) "Look, it’s okay, John. No one else knows it’s here. And if we just leave it, no one will know." JON: "No, I – (inhale) I’m doing this." What is it, that makes Jon want to see it so badly? (Eye-related) curiosity? Self-destructiveness? The wish to actually destroy the Dark Sun so they can be sure that it won't do any further harm? ... A little spider tugging him towards his second to last mark?

JON: “Get out.” [BASIRA LEAVES. THE ARCHIVIST TAKES SEVERAL STEADYING BREATHS, AND THEN OPENS THE DOOR.] [THE DARK SUN SOUNDS MELODIC, LIKE PIPES GROANING HARMONICS INTO THE WIND, LIKE THE MOURNFUL NOTES OF A CREAKING IRON GATE AS IT IS OPENED FOR THE FIRST TIME IN YEARS.] [AN ENORMOUS RUSH OF STATIC BEGINS BUILDING; IT IS NOT THE ARCHIVIST’S STATIC, IS MUCH TOO REEDY AND WISPY FOR THAT.] JON: "It’s – It’s beautiful." [THE STATIC OVERTAKES THE AUDIO FIELD; MANUELA GASPS AND SCREAMS –] MANUELA: "No – NO!" [ALL AT ONCE THE STATIC RUSHES AWAY.] BASIRA: "Jon!" Okay this is the scene I probably have the most critique for when it comes to its execution. But first I also wanna say that the "THE ARCHIVIST TAKES SEVERAL STEADYING BREATHS" ist great acting-wise again. Cause while these breaths are steady, they also get kinda trembling then. Like psyching yourself up to do something you're really afraid of and you are getting more and more afraid in anticipation. And there is a lot of emphasis on how afraid Jon is of his marks in this season (MAG 132 - "I'm scared? When does the fear go away?" / MAG 158 - Elias: "Are you scared, Jon?" - Jon: "Yes."). So, I personally think there should have been a biiiit more time between Jon saying "It's beautiful" and everything suddenly stopping and Basira coming back. It kinda loses weight for me here since it's so short, like it was nothing at all. Just a few more seconds to let it build a bit more, that is all. Am I the only one with this? Any opinions? Also did Jon collapse there again after Basira calls out to him? xD There is a "thud" to be heard before he answers. It's in neither the fan transcript nor the official one, but I'd say it's very clear.

[THEN A SOFT STATIC BEGINS TO FUZZ IN THE BACKGROUND. IT IS ONE WE KNOW, ONE WE HAVE HEARD MANY TIMES BEFORE. A DOOR CREAKS OPEN.] JON: "Did you catch her?" HELEN: "Yes." [THE ARCHIVIST GASPS: THIS IS NOT WHO HE HAD BEEN EXPECTING.] This is pretty much prove that no one can hear the staticky or squealing interference the Fears leave upon the tapes. Otherwise Jon would have already known it's Helen (or something else). I've read this a few times to be a little pet peeve for fan fictions and while I agree that I'd say it's not audible for the characters experiencing it live and it only distorts the tape, I do like to read them as a sort of change in atmosphere. Sort of like a gut feeling you get. The Distortion gives you a headache or makes you get a bit nauseous. The Vast gives you vertigo. With the Lonely it gets colder and such. Maybe not necessary every person is receptive to them, be it at all or just certain Fears, but I think it gives it a bit more spookiness.

HELEN: "How was it?" JON: "Hm?" HELEN: "Looking upon the Dark." JON: "I thought I was going to die." HELEN: "You seem to think that a lot. I remember when you thought you were going to die at my threshold." Classic Distortion move... Jon just had a horrific experience and Helen devalues it. And then she reminds him of another horrific experience like "Haha, remember that, good times"... Helen plays that game so much better than Michael did. She says things that really get me thinking for a long time after the scene.

@a-mag-a-day

[seirosu]

25, 26, 27, 28, 42

100 Random Character Development Questions || late meme

025. What do they consider beautiful in others personality-wise?

rhea values devotion above all else: to a goal, to an ideal, to a dream. the ability to devote oneself to something, not necessarily in exemplifying loyalty to her or the church (although loyalty is a very close second), is a beautiful thing. in seteth's support with cyril, he expresses certainty that rhea would love and support the boy should he find another, more substantial reason for living beyond herself -- and seteth, after so many years, knows rhea most intimately. she loved wilhelm for his devotion to their common cause. she loved hearing of manuela's passions for the arts, of hanneman's love for his research. she loved watching the students of the academy grow and discover themselves from afar. she loved watching byleth fall gracefully into the role of professor and live up to her potential as the leader rhea believed her to be. she loves the hard work that comes with ambition; passion is the most beautiful thing a person may possess in life.

026. What do they consider ugly in others personality-wise?

rhea has low tolerance for disloyalty. flippancy towards behaviors that exhibit a lack of concern for others really rubs her wrong. she's quick to punish others who stir waves in the general peace of her "people". however, rhea is known to let her own perspective override objectivity of said disloyal or disobediant behavior as a whole , and rhea can even support individuals who have made waves within their families or communities to the extent that it doesn't jeopardize her or her larger community. but it's very unattractive to find pride in hurting her or those she cares for .

027. What is their idea of perfect happiness?

you know , it’d be easy to say that having sothis return would be rhea’s ideal happiness , and maybe she’s in a state where she banks on that to relieve her of the pressure of viewing her own failings as a leader . . . but thinking on a broader scope what rhea really dreams of is being relieved of duty with confidence that not everything she’s done has been in vain — whether or not sothis returns . in general rhea is someone who desires to be taken care of , to have community . but its really hard for CF!rhea to imagine happiness , though . she is so thoroughly unhappy , and set on a path to tear up a mess in her wake that even the idea of something idealistic feels . . . numbing ?? rhea’s on a death march so . . .

028. What makes them laugh out loud?

rhea's own sense of humor and comedic delivery is woefully underdeveloped and not very sophisticated , but she is quite fond of physical humor . she fancies herself exaggerated , slapstick comedies with big expressions of gestures over any clever wordplay . its rare that she'll let herself relax enough to laugh around another , but she'd have a hard time holding back when someone starts rolling around on stage or surprises her a funny look .

042. What is their greatest achievement?

rhea is a perfectionist who sees the world as black and white ; however , she may speak down to sitri’s failures as a vessel for sothis . . . but she was also her life was rhea’s greatest accomplishment . here was rhea , disposed to her ancient grief and intended to create a life for the sake of resurrecting one that was lost — she might struggle to admit it , but she’s not proud of what she’s done . BUT rhea , in trying to resurrect a past created a future she hadn’t ever been able to see before . . . here was this life — new and unknowing . rhea fostered that fragile life and in turn that life , although short , touched the lives of many others and even would go on to create life itself !! sitri blessed her with the joys and woes of motherhood . . . sitri’s existence was rhea’s biggest , personal accomplishment .

[mommymooze]

Big Girls Have More Fun

You were always a very big girl. Your mother had complained when giving birth to your brothers that their shoulders were so wide it was a miracle that they ever made it out. When the midwife had problems getting you to leave the warm comfy space known as your mother’s womb, Mommah cried because it was going to be another boy. She and Father were so happily surprised that after all these years they finally had a girl. Weighing in at almost 10 pounds, you were also the biggest of her children. Everyone who saw you when you were little thought you were a big boy. It didn’t help that you had plenty of hand-me-downs from your brothers so your clothes were always masculine. You were bald headed until you were two, until your (h/c) hair finally started to grow in. Mother always styled your hair so cutely with lots of ribbons and bows. Being the girl and the baby of the family, you did have a few beautiful dresses that you wore on special occasions, but you preferred the tough pants that were from your older brothers. Girls clothes never fit very well in the shoulders, so your dresses were custom made. Having 6 children’s feet under the table did not call for a lot of extra money for clothing, and you preferred your older brothers castoffs anyway.

Always chasing after your brothers and their friends, you were as much of a boy as they were. Instead of dolls and dress up, you preferred wrestling and play fighting. If someone said you couldn’t do something because you were a girl, you had to push yourself until you could climb higher, run faster or swim farther than any of those silly boys. Mother tried to get you to wear makeup when you turned 13, hoping that some feminine influence would stick. They found out all to quickly that most of the powders and eyeshadows made your face break out until you looked like a chipmunk. Since you would not wear dresses, when you were older your mother convinced you to wear loose-fitting long-sleeved blouses that had a bit of frill around the neck or cuffs. This was to make you look more feminine because…well because you had muscles. No tea parties for you. It was much more fun to hang out with one of your brothers. Your oldest brother was a carpenter so helping lift stacks of wood, hammering nails and learning to build things was fascinating. Your next brother was a bricklayer. Helping him move pallets of bricks, stir the bonding material to go between the stones and hand him bricks as quickly as he could lay them was always fascinating. It was so satisfying seeing a line of bricks suddenly become an entire wall by the end of the day. The middle brother was apprenticed to the blacksmith. This was your favorite brother to work with. He would let you pump the bellows and work on basic metal pieces and he would finish them. Your fingers were a bit smaller and more nimble than his, so he had you assembling pieces together he would hammer in the rivets to join them into the finished work. He taught you how to make shoes for horses, some in different lengths and widths. You really loved hammering on a piece of metal, molding it into something new and useful.

Shortly before you turned 18 your parents were killed in a tragic fire. Having nothing left to keep you home you had heard of the Academy at Garreg Mach. With the blessings of your brothers you headed out to become enrolled and most importantly, to see what you could make of yourself. The atmosphere at the school was exciting. You had been homeschooled by your parents. Taught the basics reading and writing, a bit of etiquette (though your brothers still attacked every dinner like a pack of ravenous wolverines.) You were invited to join the Golden Deer, a mostly wild and boisterous bunch except for Marianne and Ignatz. It was a perfect fit for you. Raphael was just like one of your big brothers and loved to spar and wrestle with you. You found Leonie to be a great friend, easy to hang out with because neither of you were extremely ‘girly’.  That word was more for Hilda and Marianne, who would dress up and fix their hair for hours, complain about getting dirty. Still, they were still sweet and became good friends. Even Lorenz could behave himself and tolerated in small doses.

Claude was the ‘leader-man’ for the deer. He certainly was mischievous, playing pranks or generally annoying at times. Much of the time he follows their Professor, Byleth, always asking questions and trying to get more information than Byleth probably wants to supply. You arm wrestled him once. He’s an archer, great upper body strength, you thought he would be a challenge. But he lost pretty quickly, telling you that you should stick to someone more of Raphael’s or Caspar’s build.  It was really strange when one day Claude and Byleth are called away on a special mission. A few of the other students, the heads of the other two houses and Hilda are not seen for a couple weeks. Some of the knights filled in for teaching when they are available. Otherwise the Deer are thrown in with Professors Manuela and Hanneman for most of the classes.

You are thrilled to get extra training on brawling from Catherine and Alois. Alois is okay, great at brawling, but his jokes are something hard to stomach. Being a brawler meant you were always well armed. Ugh. Catherine is a ton of fun, she is built a lot like you. Broad shouldered and incredible upper body strength. She is a plethora of knowledge. She’s constantly giving tips on the best holds, the best way to take someone down. Knowing that you would come across a lot of male opponents as there were few female brawlers such as you two, she gives tips on distractions, specific grabs and holds that were very effective against men. Some of it feels like cheating, especially the sudden fake flirts and the like, but any weapon in a battle for your life. The other students may not have enjoyed the few weeks without Professor Byleth, Claude, and Hilda, however you are having a blast.

Byleth and all of the missing students return without a word as to what happened while they are gone. You decide to trail Claude today because he’s acting extra suspicious. He stops at an area close to the sauna, not far from where Byleth’s room is located. He is talking to that shifty merchant guy that hangs out over there at times. Your curiosity gets the best of you and you approach greeting Claude loudly.

“Hey (y/n) talk about timing! I can use a strong pair of arms if you have a few minutes.”

Instinctively you point to yourself. “Me? Sure, I’ve got a few.”

Claude grabs your arm and pulls you behind the merchant showing that there is a hidden entrance to somewhere underground. The air is cooler down here, but a bit stuffy. After a couple turns down the corridors you are met by a tall guy with a deep voice and purple hair. The two are speaking in low voices, you can’t make out what they are talking about. The new guy looks as you so you give a little wave of your fingers. The two men lead you down several more corridors, you feel like you are going in circles now. Finally, they stop and the new guy pulls out a key and opens the door, ushering everyone inside.

“Glad you brought Muscles here, Balty is a bit busy at the moment.” Says new guy.

“I want a look see before I hand over the payment. I’m sure you understand.” Claude says with a grin.

Yuri grabs a dagger and works on a board, loosening it to reveal the contents of the box is a large cache of lances.

Claude pulls one out and invites you to take one in hand.

“Dagdan construction.” You spin it, twirl it and look it over carefully. “Decently made.”

“Who made you the judge, friend?” Purple hair snips.

“Apologies. Worked as a blacksmith for a time. Repaired lots of stuff from lots of places.” You place the weapon back in the box. “I’m (y/n)” you give a bit of a smile introducing yourself. You really get a good look at purple hair. Is he…wearing makeup? It looks good on him. Your face grows into a bigger smile.

“Yuri.” He says. At least he grips your hand firmly.

Claude puts the weapon back in the box, so you grab the board that was pulled off, put it back on and hammer it into place with the butt of your dagger from your belt. You pick up the box (use your legs not your back) and hoist it onto your shoulder. Yuri silently escorts you and Claude back to where you first met him.

“Glad to do business, friend.” Claude gives Yuri a tap on the shoulder.

“Always.” Yuri turns to you, “Come visit sometime. I’ve got a friend who would probably be interested in a spar or two.”

“No prob!” You wave with your free hand and follow Claude back to the surface.

-----------------

A few weeks later, after the Golden Deer have returned from a successful mission, Claude pulls you aside.

“Can you spare some time, friend? I have a special sparring match you might be interested in.” Claude’s eyebrows waggle a bit, a half smile on his face.

“Spar? I’m always up for a challenge. So what’s up?” You answer, it’s been a while since you’ve been in a good match, and the Professor has been teaching you some cool moves and holds that you want to try out.

“Remember Yuri? He’s got a friend that just loves to fight and grapple. Thought you two should be introduced. Maybe teach each other a thing or two?” Claude informs you as he leads you down into Abyss. He leads you to their tavern and you see Yuri seated there with a big dark haired guy wearing chains across his chest. His chest is very muscular and well developed, certainly a brawler like yourself. Claude introduces you to Balthus. The both of you reach out for a handshake, you grasp each others hands and it immediately turns into an arm wrestling type of match to see who can squeeze the others hand the hardest. After a minute you both stop and laugh at each other.

“Way to go, Pal!” Balthus laughs, slamming his large hand down on the table making everything on it rock and wobble.

“Good to meet you too.” You say back to the big guy, a shy smile coming across your face.

Yuri is the next to speak. “So friend, we thought it was time to introduce the two of you. Are you interested in a friendly competition to perhaps determine who is the better brawler?” The half smile on his face lets you know there is some sort of mischief behind this invitation, making it all more enticing to accept the invitation.

You agree to the match. Yuri slaps you on the back. “You won’t regret this, come on.” He says as he leads you off to who knows where in Abyss. You’ve turned left and right and gone through enough doors you do your best to simply keep up and stay with him until he’s led you to a small room. Hanging on a hook is a soft gold tunic and short pants.

“You weren’t exactly dressed for this, hope you don’t mind we’ve provided clothing for you. I’ll leave you to get yourself ready. Be back in a minute.” He says as he closes the door behind him.

Just what kind of a setup have you gotten yourself into?  You wonder as you put on the clothes. You do a few squats, throw a few punches and hooks. They are easy enough to move around in you suppose.  Just before your mind starts to spiral wondering what the heck is going on, Yuri appears again, grabbing you by the hand. He’s leading you to a door that he pulls you through then slams the door shut behind you.

You find yourself in a well lit but small auditorium. There are rows of benches filled with people of the Abyss. On the opposite side of the dirt floor area you are in is Balthus, wearing pants like yours, but in a shimmery gray color. He looks like someone spread oil all over him, his muscles are shining in the light. He’s waving and blowing kisses to the audience.

A voice booms loudly into the room and the crowd quiets, “And now for the main event, our own Balthus vs. (y/n)!”

WTF? This was going to just be a wrestling match. What is this horse and pony show?

“Brawlers, meet in the center and shake hands. Start at the ring of the bell.“ the voice booms in the room, bouncing off the walls with a slight echo. Balthus wiggles his fingers in a “come here” sort of gesture.

As soon as your hands touch, the bells go off and he’s grabbing you trying to throw you to the ground. You grab his wrist, twisting it behind him, kicking at his knee to get him off balance. He tries to use his free elbow to jab you in the side as you pull him back towards you shoving your knee in his ribs. The crowd surrounding you is yelling and jeering, throwing garbage at you for trying to hurt their champion. For good measure you grab the back of his head with both hands, smashing his face to your knee.

The grappling goes back and forth for a while. You’re able to grab him and throw him against the ground, then he grabs your foot, pulling you off balance and you land face first in the dirt.  Next he’s got an arm pinned behind you, so you pull him quickly over your back to flip him down into the dirt. Most of it is arms flailing, smashing into the other to get a good grip and really pull the other into a good position for a finishing move. You’re still confused as to how all of this is happening. Claude and Yuri have some explaining to do.

Balthus is smiling. Smiling! As he grabs you around your waist and flips you upside down dropping to a seated position forcing you into receiving one hell of a piledriver to your skull. You were able to brace a bit on his thighs, so your neck wasn’t broken, but you were going to have a hell of a headache after this match.

The crowd is now screaming “Bal-tie! Bal-tie!” and stomping their feet so hard the ground feels like it is shaking.

He flings your legs to the ground and leaps up to give you a hard elbow drop, but your instincts kick in and you’ve rolled out of range. Once he hits the ground you’re behind him, knees in his back, your right arm grabbing him under the chin pulling it straight back. Balthus’ neck is straining against the pull. He’s stuck in your powerful chinlock.

“Tap out or I break it!” You scream.

You feel the slaps on your calf as you let him go and fall back on the ground. The crowd is booing and screaming and throwing rotten food at you. You struggle to your feet, raising your fists in the air. Your head is screaming at you, bruises in places you haven’t had in a while as you limp back to the door that let you into this goddessforsaken place. You bang on the door once, “Let me in before I bash it down.”

The door opens a little as you smash it open into the wall behind it.

“Great going there kid! I knew you could do it!” Claude is beaming at you until you grab his shirt and pull it tight around his throat and shove him against the wall and as far off the ground as you can get him. “Gah!” he screams as he’s holding on to your hand, trying to take some of the pressure off of his throat.

“What. The. Hell. Was. THAT!” You are seething with rage. Your teeth are grinding so hard he can hear the crunching as your eyes are fixed on his, burning with hellfire.

“Calm. Calm d-down (y/n).” He stutters, patting your fist still holding him up on the wall. “Let’s talk. C’mon. You had a great fight, just like I promised.”

You let go and he drops to the ground sitting against the wall. You move to a nearby bench, taking a seat you close your eyes and shake your head. The Claudster had manipulated you into this. You should have known.

Claude gathers himself back together. Standing he brushes himself off, straightening his collar as best he can considering most of it around his throat is now shredded material.

Yuri pokes his head in the door. He looks at Claude. “You’re still alive? I’m surprised.” The violet haired man takes a small step into the room. “Catch, Tiny!” he laughs as he throws a bag at you, coins jingle inside as you catch it. Before you can look back he’s closed the door.

“Tiny?” you ask.

“That’s what everyone said when you walked into the arena. She’s so tiny compared to Balthus. Your head doesn’t even come close to his shoulder. Now they’re calling you the Tiny Terror.

[seasaltmemories]

Never Love an Anchor

Rating: M

Summary: There was a familiar restless energy to Sylvain, the same tense composure she saw whenever he was flirting with another girl who he’d throw away a week later. And for all the wounds she hadn’t been able to heal in time, for all those she had been forced to leave behind, a slow creeping voice in the back of her head told Mercedes that she might be able to at least fix this problem.

~

 “When next we meet, I will kill you without hesitation.”

Those words rattled around Mercedes’ head like a stubborn coin that refused to leave its pursue no matter how hard she shook it. Usually she wasn’t quite this good at turning over her thoughts for so long. For schooling, it was a curse, but for the rest of her life it was a blessing. She had seen the way those who had truly suffered grew bitter and resentful towards the Goddess, unable to let go of their pain. And well, maybe her life hadn’t have been all sunshine and roses, but Mercedes had never wanted to be like that. Life was easier when she relaxed and let Her divine hand guide her through life.

But after eighteen long years of hanging onto memories of her sweet baby brother, it was difficult to not grasp the few scraps this Death Knight gave her like a vice. She didn’t know what good carrying them would do, but if there was one thing she couldn’t hand over to the Goddess so easily, it was Emile. Letting go of his hand to run away with Mother had been the worst choice of her life. Even if all that these remnants of him brought was guilt and anguish, she feared more what she might lose if she let go of them too.

What would it feel like if you didn’t resist and instead let his scythe slice right through you? You’ve seen doctors cut through flesh to remove deadly diseases. Maybe if you didn’t struggle, he’d have pity and only carve out your regrets.

Mercedes’ eyes flew open. She didn’t know what inside her broached such a morbid suggestion, but she knew she didn’t have the courage to turn back and face it. She only realized where she was turning to instead when she the cold air began to nip the back of her neck. Her body was better at taking care of others than herself, so if she couldn’t sleep it must have decided without her that she might as well help the others rest more easily and get some chores done.

She floated like that for a while, letting everything from the cool stone of the floor to the silver moonlight take her attention away from the day's events. When Mercedes found herself in the kitchens, everything clicked. A few days ago, she had bought extra baking supplies from an Alliance merchant. It had cost more than the allowance the Professor suggested, but in the heat of the moment she had been so excited to gift Annette some of the sweets she had been craving. Maybe she hadn’t intended to sneak away and bake it in the middle of the night, but a breakfast surprise should be as good as any kind.

As she gathered her ingredients Mercedes hummed a wordless tune. There was a degree of practicality to it--singing helped her keep time and keep from getting too focused on one task--but it also had the nice side effect of calming her nerves. It was easier to control her breathing when there was a pleasant melody to entertain herself with. Her hands shook less when she had eggs to crack open with a precise touch. Loneliness was easier to swallow down when you knew people’s love wasn’t that far out of reach.

“So there’s our nightingale.” Mercedes almost dropped the mixing bowl from her arms out of surprise. It was only once she managed to field it onto the table that she was able to turn and face her eavesdropper.

“A little birdie like you should be careful about staying out this late. Never know what kind of animals would try to snatch you up.” Sylvain leaned against the doorway, grinning like a cat that had just spied his favorite meal. Since they had reunited, she had almost let those honey-brown eyes get to her. With his new height and bulk it had been easy to wonder if his flirtations had gained any weight as well. Still over time their old Monastery banter had returned to her.

“Hello Sylvain,” Mercedes smiled as she let all his innuendo fly past her without a second thought. “If it is so dangerous to be up, then what is your excuse?”

“I’m trying to climb back into any bed I can,” Slowly he made his way to the wine cellar. “Just need a drink to help me rest easier.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.” On instinct she placed her body in-between him and the door. “Instead why don’t you try sticking to more traditional sleeping aids?”

Sylvain paused, a strange expression flitted across his face. She tried to decipher it, but it was gone in an instant and replaced with a cool regard.

“I don’t remember when I asked for your permission.” His voice was light and teasing, but that gaze of his cut through her with the same precision he’d take down a foe.

“I’m a medic, and I’ve been your medic several times.” While battlefield white magic was different from the work Manuela did, Mercedes wasn’t about to refresh him on the details. “Drinking yourself into a slumber is imprecise at best and can put your life in danger at worst.”

Sylvain didn’t say anything at first, just kept studying her like she was some battle map he was trying to commit to memory. It occurred to her then that she hadn’t put on a robe and her nightgown left very little to the imagination. Immediately she crossed her arms in an effort to regain a shred of decency, but then Mercedes began to wonder if drawing attention to her breasts when the night was so cold, when he was around riling her up was a good idea, or maybe--

“When did you get this?” While she had been caught up in her fretting, he had closed the distance between the two of them to play with Rafail Gem. It was another matter she had forgotten to attend to after today’s trying events. Or maybe her subconscious had decided to let it rest there as a physical reminder of the guilt she bore.

 There must be a part of him that still loves you if he is still protecting you like this? What remnants does Emile still hold of you? “When next we meet, I will kill you without hesitation.”

“I’ll tell you if you come and help me bake this cake. Once its in the oven, I’ll brew some tea that should make you sleep like a baby.” It was bribery at its most blatant, but for whatever reason, Sylvain let the gem fall back against her chest and followed Mercedes to the cooking table.

“So why were you up?” It was about as subtle as an axe to the face, but if Sylvain thought anything about her pushing the conversation back onto him, he didn’t say anything.

“What would you say if I was awakened by a siren’s song and would have been driven mad if I couldn’t find its source?”

“I thought I was a bird not a fish.” She giggled.

“You’re getting sirens and mermaids mixed up. Mermaids are your fish ladies. Will eat your heart out, but at least they look hot. Sirens disguise themselves with their song and don’t even give you the decency of being eaten by a pretty face.”

“So I really must not be so beautiful anymore.” Mercedes gave an exaggerated sigh. “You know if you didn’t like my haircut you could have just said so.”

“No Mercedes, you look divine as always.” It was a well worn-out compliment, but despite herself, she couldn’t stop the heat from rushing to her core. She was so busy trying to squash it back down, she almost missed his next words.

“It would have been Miklan’s birthday tomorrow.” There was no flowery language to blunt the harsh reality of his confession, just a quiet whisper of words that could have been lost in the wind. The news was so dizzying, her body kinda kept functioning without her, still compulsively stirring the batter and smiling like an idiot. By the time she actually began to process things, Sylvain was rambling on with that same desperation as when he had disclosed what growing up with a Crest had been like.

“I don’t know why I remembered it tonight. I didn’t care at all when it came around the first time his blood was on my hands. But you know my father had forbid people from mentioning it back then. It always broke my mother’s heart to hear about him. That used to piss me off because I still remembered a year where he almost trampled me with the horse he had been gifted, but no, now that he was gone he was simply a tortured soul. But then again--”

“Sylvain.” She didn’t mean to speak quite so harshly, but she couldn’t hide the frustration in her voice. When he turned back to her with those beautiful, sad eyes, her heart nearly shattered in two. There was a familiar restless energy to them, the same tense composure she saw whenever he was flirting with another girl who he’d throw away a week later. And for all the wounds she hadn’t been able to heal in time, for all those she had been forced to leave behind, a slow creeping voice in the back of her head told her that she might be able to at least fix this problem.

In one elegant motion, Mercedes swirled her hand in the cake batter and extended her frost-covered fingertips towards his mouth.

“Taste it.”

“What!?” If it had been under any other occasion, then she might have savored getting to see him flustered for once in his life.

“I said you would get a treat for helping me.” It was strange to be the one throwing around innuendos now, but the longer she held her hand out, the more it made sense. There was no need to find a new heart to break when hers was already so worn and fragile.

“Taste it, please.” She didn’t mean for her voice to crack on that last word, but it seemed to be the last bit of goading needed for Sylvain to finally give in.

He gripped her wrist with both hands while his tongue darted out in quick bursts to clean each digit. While at first each flick was nothing more than a blur of pink, controlled, focused, and utterly devoid of any sensuality, after swiping the last remains of icing, he’d linger for just a half second--sending shivers down her spine. When he found a dollop of frosting had been smeared just above her knuckle and leveraged her hand further in his mouth so that he reach it, Mercedes couldn’t keep from gasping in pleasure.

Sometimes a little voice would try and chime in that in was a poor use of expensive ingredients to waste them on foreplay or it was evil of her to take advantage of his grief. But pleasure had a way of warming the back of her throat, making her hum so loud she drowned out all those inner demons. The Goddess had never disapproved of intimacy. There couldn’t be any harm in carving out her own island of happiness when she otherwise might cry herself a sea of grief.

When Sylvain was finished with his task, he stayed there, head lowered against her hand like a loyal dog. But the eyes that stared up at her were those of a wolf, sharp and hungry. There was a reason you weren’t supposed to feed wild animals, after whetting their appetites, they’d always come back around for more. Yet it seemed that he was still respecting the power dynamics she had established, waiting for her next order.

So she did what any person with a big broad man leering at her like that would do--she pushed away her cooking and lead him to her room.

She must have grown complacent, thinking she’d be able to take her time, because she turned back to the door to make sure it was locked. However before she could move from her spot, a warm breath of air tickled the curve of her neck, freezing her in place.

“You never did explain who gave you this.” His left arm was pressed against the door-frame, caging her, while his right played with the Rafail Gem again.

“What if I told you it was a thank you from your last bedmate for warming it after you left?” She didn’t know what creature controlled her tongue in that moment. Maybe it was the innocent part of her that would prefer returning to their usual teasing relationship rather than risk this confusing mess. Maybe the not so innocent part of herself wanted to goad him into a fit of jealousy, to be fucked against the door with about as much gentleness as she deserved. Deeper reflection might have found the culprit, but it occurred to her then that Sylvain had neither done nor said a thing all this time she was caught up in pitying herself.

Slowly, she looked over her shoulder. When she met those honey-brown eyes again, she didn’t see the skirt-chaser she was used to from her past, but the tired warrior she grown more and more familiar with these last few months.

“I’m sorry,” When she reached up to cup his cheek, he flinched, but before she could pull away, he covered her hand with his and brought it closer once more. “Truly I am.” She didn’t quite know what she was apologizing for, but the same feeling she got when she watched a dying man beg for healing she couldn’t give was clawing at her chest again.

With the same strange passivity of his tonight, he let her lead him to her bed. There, she arranged his limbs so that he was lying comfortably, like she used to when playing with her dolls as a young girl. One by one, she began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“You carry so much more pain than most realize.” She pressed butterfly kisses against his chest, traveling down lower and lower. “I can be so cruel sometimes, but you’re an invaluable friend.” She moved to untie the laces of his breeches, but before she could get them undone, Sylvain shot to life and grabbed her wrists. In one swift motion, he pinned her arms above her head and rolled onto her.

“Don’t you patronize me too. Not you.” He rocked his hips against hers, and it took all her will-power not to chase the sensation. “Don’t call me your friend while trying to suck my cock. I thought I was more to you than that.”

There was something disorienting being in a position like this. Good old Mercedes who did everything for everyone unable to move a muscle. She should be screaming, trying to break free at whatever cost, but instead a sick thrill curled itself in the pit of her stomach.

“Why don’t you prove it then?” That wicked tongue of hers spoke without warning.

Sylvain stared at her, stunned, and she felt the urge to apologize again. But that little voice inside herself told her to wait wait wait, see what this might get her.

If you can’t ever let go of things yourself, maybe it might be good to let someone else take it from you.

The kisses they shared were not the type she wanted anyone else to know about. When she and Annette had gossiped about blushing boys and giggling girls, she had always adopted that role of wise and unflappable Mercie. It was a preferable position to refashion her wasted years into a comfortable experience. And really there was something nice in showing someone the ropes, leading them gently to a shared sense of bliss.

But this...this arrangement opened her up to all new sorts of delights. There was a satisfaction in the feel of Sylvain’s hips pressing her against the mattress with no extra force than his natural weight, his tongue in her mouth, exploring every crevice of it, as if he was searching for something. There was a pleasure in being so thoroughly possessed, so when his right hand descended to fondle her breast, and she couldn’t help but arch into his touch.

“You sure act arrogant for someone so desperate,” His voice had transformed into a low growl she could feel travel from his chest to hers. “Were you just putting on airs earlier and trying to hide how much of a slut you really are?”

Heat transformed from arousal and into anger. “Don’t call me that.” Mercedes broke from Sylvain’s grip, hating the way her voice cracked. It made her sound like a child, and this was the last situation in which she wanted to return to those days.

But thankfully, Sylvain didn’t call her stupid or naive. Instead his left hand reached forward to brush the hair from her face.

“I apologize. I forgot you like it most when I’m honest.” He murmured. “If I’m telling the truth, then I can’t imagine a more radiant woman than you, Mercedes.”

The hand still fondling her breast pinched her nipple, and Mercedes was embarrassed by how loud a noise she made. Still if anything, Sylvain seemed almost giddy.

“Never knew my flattery was that good.” His laughter made her ears buzz. “You liked that didn’t you?”

Mercedes didn’t trust herself to use words, instead just nodding before shoving her face into his shoulder.

Sylvain chuckled again, making what few pieces of fabric that separated them seem all the flimsier. “Does he know your little secret? Does he make you feel as good as I do?”

“Stop playing games,” The Mercedes that hadn’t been a blushing virgin for over a decade grew back her spine. “Tell me I’m good, that’s all I want.”

Sylvain sighed as he lean down to press his forehead against hers. “I can’t imagine anything easier. You might be more holy than the goddess, herself.”

“Oh,” Of course that was when he decided to sneak a hand up her night-gown. The sudden chill might have been an adequate excuse for her shivering, but even as Mercedes adjusted, she could not stop the tremors.

“You’re the best of all of us, kind, patient. None of us deserve you, least of all me.” His clever hands danced up her inner thigh, teasing and refusing to touch her exactly where she wanted.

“So beautiful too. You’re like a portrait come to life. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.” He captured her mouth just as slide a finger into her, and it was all so overwhelming, Mercedes wondered if she might just keel over right then and there. Still something about the intensity with which Sylvain kissed, her seemed to demand she stay there with him. So she returned his affections the best she could, using her tongue, nails, and teeth.

Eventually though she must have gotten too enthusiastic because after he rubbing her in just the right spot, Sylvain pulled away from her with a hiss as he cradled his ear.

“Oh my!” Mercedes leaned forward to try and innocently examine the nick, but Sylvain pushed her back down, spreading apart her legs.

“Don’t worry about it. You can sink your teeth wherever want--already’ve carved my heart from chest. I don’t mind it as long as you promise you’ll be there to kiss it better.” He slipped another finger inside her and her embarrassment melted back into that glorious high that was building up inside her. So she tried to do as he asked, and peppered his injured ear with the softest of kisses as she begged and pleaded for him to bring her to release.

“Mercie I don’t think I could ever love another woman,” His breath was ragged, just the sound of it pushing her closer. “Marry me.”

Whiteness blinded her vision, leaving her all floaty and in a world where she couldn’t really understand his words. It was such a nice place, it probably was what let her entertain the idea for a moment, linger on how much she just enjoyed his presence and how devastated she’d be if she lost him.

And then she came back down to earth, where Sylvain was looming over her, waiting with his neediness on full display.

As she tried to catch her breath, her mind swirled with a thousand thoughts, but the one thing that consumed her the most was the knowledge that she should have never let them make such a mistake.

After that, well it became impossible to keep from crying.

“I’m sorry,” Mercedes did her best to wipe her tears away, but they just wouldn’t stop falling. “It’s not your fault, I--”

“I told you not to patronize me!” His words felt laced with venom. “I’m not used to girls crying before we’ve even rolled out of bed but then I guess it is no wonder you got tired of me this quickly.”

“That’s not true!” She tried to tilt his chin so that he would look at her, but he pushed away her touch with a snarl. “Please listen to me Sylvain, I should have never taken advantage of you when you were so obviously grieving. I’m the lowest.”

Pure rage burned in his gaze, no longer so sweet and syrupy. “Was I just a pity fuck?! Just another little child to shut up? Is that why you won’t tell me who gave you that necklace? Don’t want to break a stupid kid’s heart when you got another man who actually--”

“For goddess’ sake, I got this from my brother after he said he wanted to kill me!”

Immediately it was like a spark of thunder magic had struck the room. Everything grew still as they could only stare at each other as her outburst finally set it.

“Fuck,” It was Sylvain who finally broke the silence. He buried his face in his hands. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” Mercedes wondered if she’d ever be able to say those words enough for them to mean anything. “I’m sorry, please forgive me. I’m not proud of what I did, I just couldn’t bear to think of him tonight.”

“Fuck!” Sylvain slammed his fist against the mattress. “I’m such a fucking dumbass, my brain might as well be in my dick.”

“Don’t say things like that!” Mercedes brought his hands to her chest. “I was the one who seduced you. I led you on. I wanted you domineering and cruel. I brought this upon myself!”

Sylvain gave a laugh at that, but this one had been drained of any humor. “I was charmed by you the minute I heard your voice tonight. There’s just something so soothing about being around you. With Miklan haunting me, it was the only thing that made me feel like myself again.” He dropped his hands to his side as his frame began to tremble. “But then that isn’t a good thing in the long run, because seeing that gem made me a spoiled child. I didn’t want to have to share you with anyone else in the world. I didn’t want to risk losing your comfort.”

There was a fervor to his words that a few minutes ago might have lit a fire in her as well. But now, his shaking shoulders only signaled just how evil she truly was.

“I’m sorry,” Goddess, when would she stop babbling. “I don’t know if I can give you any comfort. I don’t know if I have anything left to give.”

She dashed out the room, worried that staying with him any longer might bring on a new wave of tears. However as the door slammed shut behind her, it was only then she remembered that it was her own room.

Oh you stupid girl

Mercedes collapsed against the heavy oak behind her when her knees gave way.

She didn’t know how long she stayed there--crying, curled against the door. It seemed now that she had opened the flood gates, her sadness wanted to make good on all the years she had tried to persevere and stay strong. But even eighteen years of self-loathing, of having to live with the weight of her inadequacy, had it waning points. Like a tide that had temporarily receded, she knew it would come back with a vengeance. But she had to pull herself together enough to do the awkward work of reclaiming her own room. She hated to be the one to make a mess, but at least she had gotten good at cleaning them up.

Tentatively, she returned to find, Sylvain still sprawled across her bed with that faraway look in his eyes. Just seeing him again made her want to find some hole to crawl and die in, but forced herself to be mature and sat down to join him.

"Did you mean it?" Mercedes asked in a quiet voice. "Do you really want to marry me?"

There was a huff of air, and then a much longer and more tired sigh.  "Since I thought there might be another man in your life, I figured it was time to lay all my cards out on the table.  I figured you had no reason to believe a love confession alone, so I thought a ring would convince you of my genuine feelings."

“Sylvain, I mean it with full sincerity when I say that I want the best for you,” Mercedes took a deep breath. “But I don’t want you to be in love with me.”

Sylvain shifted back and forth, “I know you probably see me as nothing more than a shallow pervert, but that doesn’t change the intensity of my feelings for you.” She looked down to find him drawing unrecognizable patterns into the mattress. “Even if you don’t return them, you’ll always be divine to me.”

“It’s not that I don’t feel anything for you, either,” Mercedes smoothed her skirts, infected by his nervous energy. “If anything, I was frightened because I do feel something.” She danced away from the exact four letter word. Such affection felt too much for her clumsy hands to hold.

“I can’t blame you, I don’t particularly like myself either,” He looked up at her now, that neediness still overwhelming. “I like to think I’m a better man when I’m with you though. If I can’t give you my heart, then at least take my admiration.”

Mercedes could feel her shoulders begin to quiver. “I don’t think you understand though. I’m not the angel you think I am.” She traced the Rafail Gem. “I’m good at acting the part of the caring older sister, but well my brother isn’t wrong to want me dead.”

Sylvain’s eyes narrowed. “Not wrong doesn’t mean right. You bring so much joy to everyone, I can’t imagine a world where your absence would bring anything but sadness to us all.”

“I know I’m good at giving!” She didn’t mean to raise her voice, but the few strands of her soul were starting to unravel again. “I give my blood and tears because there isn’t much else I have to offer. I try to be kind and good but every well dries up eventually.” Mercedes forced herself to look him in the eye. “When I run dry will you still love me? If I can’t make you a better man, what use am I as a wife?”

Sylvain’s hands came to a standstill against the mattress. Then slowly he curled his fingers into the sheets. “You know I never used to believe him. I always wanted to prove him wrong, but maybe Miklan was right about some things.” He stared at her with that tragic gaze. “Here I am treating you the way my father treated me.”

Mercedes blinked. “What do you mean?”

Sylvain’s fingers grazed hers, but they didn’t quite hold her. What might be mistaken for a grip was too loose and skittish to quite count.

“When was that last time someone took care of you? You’ve had to put up with the same bullshit as everyone else, but you didn’t even have your own Mercie to help you along the way.”

There was a part of her that wanted to push him away. It wanted to convince herself that this wasn’t sincere concern, but just the result of her manipulative guilt-tripping.

But slowly his hands danced up the side of her arms, persuading her into an hug. Once she began to trace the length of his spine, it became impossible to keep from just melting into him.

“His name is Emile.” Mercedes whispered against his shoulder. “That is all I can give for now, but please don’t let me go.”

As shaky as an embrace it was, Sylvain held her through the entire night.

A.N. I was in a writing exchange and my requester wanted smut about these two being disasters in very different ways.  So glad I get to share it now (also after writing his name so many times I am not sure if sylvain is a word)

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Bowstring { byleth x claude }

Pairing: Byleth x Claude Rated: Explicit  Genre: Complete and utter smut Warnings: very mild abuse (like, very mild), dub-con Ao3 Post

The force caused her grip to falter on the wooden sword, and it tumbled away as her knees and hands fell to the ground. Sharp, radiating pain in her jaw blossomed behind a developing bruise that was soon replaced with a thin, cutting sting along her throat. Around Byleth's neck was the string of his bow, pulling her head back.

"Sheesh, Teach. Sleeping all those years really made you rusty, huh?"

--- The mere thought of praying to a god revolted Claude. He has - and always will - believe that the only person you can truly rely on is yourself. At least, that's how it was before time changed everything; before five years passed; before the Alliance came to a deadlock within the destructive war. Now, he found himself relying on a Goddess.

Or, he would, but the woman was stubborn, steadfast on traveling to Faerghus after learning what had become of his Princeliness. Claude couldn't exactly blame her, though.

Actually, he could.

He was the one who traveled back to the monastery, holding onto his belief that Byleth would return to them. He was the one who saw her bathed in the light of a new dawn as she ascended to the Goddess Tower. He was the one who greeted her with open arms after her five-year slumber. Yet, Byleth still chose Dimitri, just like she had all those years ago.

After seeing Byleth dance around the battlefield like a work of art in motion, his tactician mind knew the Golden Deer house needed her expertise. So, when Professor Manuela stepped up to the front of their classroom, Claude was less than pleased. He hid his feelings well, though, behind a feigned grin as the months passed at Garreg Mach. That facade nearly faltered, though, during the Horsebow Moon.

Claude had been on his way back to his quarters when his Princeliness' voice crept from the cracked door of the Blue Lion's classroom.

"Professor, please accept these gift on behalf of the Blue Lions."

Curious, Claude moved closer. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, his ankles crossing over one another. Neither Byleth nor Dimitri noticed his presence.

"Thank you, Dimitri," Byleth accepted the note and brooch.

At the time, Claude thought nothing of this little meeting, nonchalantly hovering nearby, waiting for his opportunity to intervene and wish the professor a happy birthday as well. That time never came.

After receiving her gifts, Dimitri leaned in and placed a tentative kiss on Byleth's lips. Claude nearly toppled over at sight. He brashly moved from the doorframe to just outside the classroom. The reaction Claude was expecting from Byleth - a swift reprimand - never came either.

"Dimitri," Claude could hear the frantic exhalation in Byleth's speech. "I've already told you, we can't continue this. Not until you're out of the Officer's Academy."

Having gained enough information, Claude continued his stride back to the dormitories. A wicked grin sprouted on his lips.

"His Princeliness and Teach, huh?"

Jealousy rattled deep within his bones that night, anchoring itself within Claude's very skeleton. Back then, Claude chalked it up to a simple schoolboy crush on his professor, but it was much more than that. Byleth was unreachable, and Claude did not appreciate unreachable. That obsession continued to manifest in Byleth's absence, developing into something more sinister. Now, he was older; wiser and there was nothing Claude could not achieve if he set that brilliant mind to it, even his precious Teach.

"Awe, C'mon, Teach. Humor me for once," Claude chimed, his hands crossing behind the nape of his neck leisurely.

"For old time's sake."

He flourished his request with his signature wink, and Byleth found herself unable to resist his charm.

"Fine," she responded. "I'll train with you one last time, but then I leave for Faerghus."

It was the middle of the night; the perfect time to travel undetected towards the Kingdom's capital of Fhridiad. Claude nodded, affirming her request. "I won't stop you, Teach."

"Good, then let's head to the training grounds."

A part of Byleth accepted Claude's request because of the guilt riddling her insides. Both Claude and Dimitri were her students, and she cared for them deeply, but Dimitri needed her more. He always had.

They eventually pushed their way through the cumbersome doors leading into the training grounds. The area seemed untouched by the hands of time, pristine as ever. As Byleth marveled at the unscathed arena, Claude began to shamelessly shed his outer layer of clothes. His gold-plated shoulder guard was the first to hit the ground with a ringing thud.

The noise prompted Byleth to twist her body just in time to witness Claude taking hold of his festive sash, untying it. The removal of his sash made it easier to discard his neutral-hued shirt, leaving him in black undergarments. His clothes had hidden just how much his body grew within the last five years, and Byleth's eyes roamed over Claude's taut muscles, admiring his unblemished bronze skin. Claude had always been beautiful.

"Is that a blush I see, Teach?" He teased, his arms finding their way to his hips. Byleth quickly turned her head and blamed her blossoming cheeks on the frigid weather of the Ethereal Moon.

"It's freezing out, Claude." The chilled winds of the North had slithered their way into Garreg Mach.

"I know, but exercising always gets me hot and bothered," He paused his brazen teasing to walk towards a row of stored weapons. To no surprise on Byleth's end, Claude had chosen a longbow.

While her former student shuffled through the weapons, Byleth followed his example and shed her outer layer of armor, leaving her in only training garments.

"Here, Teach, a sword-" Claude turned, but the sight of his undressing professor made him forget his next words. "Wow, looking radiant as ever, my friend."

"Hush, Claude," Was all she could mutter, the cold nipping at her skin. Emerald eyes wandered to Byleth's chest. Claude never prayed, but he found himself silently thanking whatever God ruled over the weather, blessing him with Teach's perfect, hard nipples. "The sword?" Her words pulled Claude back to the surface of reality, and he tossed her the training instrument.

Claude pulled a single arrow from its confines and turned to face Byleth. "How about you start from the other end of the training grounds and charge at me?" He mused. "I'll try and stop you."

It was different from the spars she was used to, but Byleth did not have the heart to reject Claude's proposal, so she simply nodded and made her way to the opposite side. A grim smirk tugged at Claude's lips.

"Here?" She questioned.

"Perfect," He responded, pressing the bow to his cheek. "On three, alright?"

Byleth nodded.

"One."

She readied herself.

"Two."

Her sword lifted, and Claude pulled the arrow tautly.

"Hey, Teach,"

Byleth groaned, clearly frustrated and ready to begin. "What?"

"How do you think the church will react when they learn their beloved Teach was having an affair with one of her students?"

"What?" Byleth gasped, the color from her face draining. Her stilled heart descended into the pit of her stomach.

"Three."

Claude released his grip, already moving towards Byleth. Caught off guard, she barely had time to dodge the arrow that struck where her shoulder had once been. Regaining some composure, she thrashed her sword in Claude's direction, but his longbow connected with her jaw before she could strike him.

The force caused her grip on the wooden sword to falter, and it tumbled away as her knees and hands fell to the ground. Sharp, radiating pain in her jaw blossomed behind a developing bruise that was soon replaced with a thin, cutting sting along her throat. In her daze, Claude had managed to kneel behind her, his crotch perfectly aligned with her ass. Around Byleth's neck was the string of his bow, pulling her head back.

"Sheesh, Teach. Sleeping all those years really made you rusty, huh?"

Seeing his former teacher on all fours, helpless with his bow around her neck, made Claude's cock twitch in his pants. Byleth could feel Claude's growing erection and began to squirm under his body weight. This, however, only caused her ass to sway against his cock, and he let out a low groan deep within his throat.

"Claude," As Byleth spoke, the sharp string pressed into her neck's tender flesh, embedding raw impressions into her protruding trachea. "You're hurting me," She actually managed to squeeze out the words, teetering on the edge of consciousness, as her arm reached up to wrap her fingers around the string.

He pressed back harder on the bow. "Come now, Teach. Use that exquisite brain of yours," He cooed, looming his body down, so his chest was flush with Byleth's back. His teeth caught the lobe of her ear, and he playfully nibbled on the other shell, rolling it between his teeth. "Who woulda guessed that I would be the one teaching you a lesson, my friend."

By now, Byleth's world was fading to black, and Claude was living up to the name of his crest's dragon, producing stars in her vision. Before she completely let go of reality, Claude slackened the bow, and Byleth instinctively coughed. He moved quickly, using his knee to break the wooden bow in half. This allowed him to shuffle Byleth's hands behind her back, securing them with the string that had previously cut off her supply of oxygen. This position left her helpless with a cheek resting on the training ground floor.

"Ya know, I didn't want to have to do this."

That was a lie, he did.

"If you had just chosen the Golden Deer, things would have been different."

His voice seemed distant, almost nostalgic as he reminisced on old times. Byleth's jaw tightened, and a mixture of emotions overwhelmed her. Anger? Desperation? She remained silent as he continued.

"But instead, you chose Dimitri," Claude shook his head, his tongue flicking on the roof of his mouth in disapproval. "And then you choose him again! Can you believe that?" As he spoke, his arm snaked around her waist, and his other brushed her luminescent hair to one side. Then, he began to graze his lips along the back of Byleth's neck, building heat whenever they collided with her skin.

His touch was slow and calculated and left no part of her untouched. He moved from her nape to the back of her ear, and finally to the curve of her jawline. The hair he had grown on his face tickled her skin as he moved. When Claude reached the bruised corner of her mouth, his touch eased. He caressed the blemish with his lips once, and then again, and continued to litter the spot with kisses.

Byleth, sickened with his actions, tried to pull her face away. Claude's fingers immediately grabbed onto her chin, and he made sure to press his thumb into her bruise. Her face contorted, but she refused to whimper. "Wow, Teach, you're gonna make this a lot more difficult than it needs to be, huh?"

As he whispered against her ear, his hand snuck up the back of her thigh and into her shorts. "I don't usually reveal my schemes, but I'll indulge you this one time."

His fingers ran along with the pattern of her stockings, and a wicked grin lit up his face. "Already soaking, I see."

Byleth cursed, her words vaporizing into the cold air. "No need to be embarrassed, Teach. I am pretty damn handsome, after all."

His fingers worked her cunt from the outside of her stockings. He focused on her swelling clit, using leisurely circles to try and get a rise out of her. "You see," He began, his fingers picking up pace ever-so-slightly. "I'm going to fuck you so thoroughly you forget all about your plans and his Princeliness."

Claude could feel Byleth's breath hitch in her throat. "And, if that doesn't work, which I'm sure it will," He was confident in his abilities, "You'll do what I say, or would you rather Seteth and the rest of the church find out about your little rendezvouses?"

"Claude, please, I never-"

As much as her shorts permitted, Claude retracted his hand and smacked at Byleth's wet cunt.

"Eh, eh, eh," His words cut into her sentence. "I don't want to hear the words 'Clause please' unless you're begging for my cock."

Byleth wondered when Claude's mouth became so filthy. Or, maybe it had always been like that? Despite her growing arousal and a budding warmth in her stomach, she fought against her wrist restraints.

Claude smiled half-heartedly. "You know, Teach, I always did admire your stubbornness."

Claude withdrew his hand from her shorts completely, but only to slide them down to her knees. He leaned back, watching her squirm. In truth, Claude appreciated the pearly flesh of her ass, the skin contrasting against her black lace stockings. He planted a firm spanking on her cheek, and Byleth's lower back bent in response. A dark chuckle rumbled deep in his throat. "Whoa, Teach, slow down. No need to bend over backward for me quite yet."

"I swear, Claude, once I'm released from these restraints-" Byleth began to mumble threats, but they only made Claude's cock swell with excitement, and he pulled down her stockings in haste.

Already imagining the taste of his dear professor on his tongue, Claude parted Byleth's lips, revealing her moistened and pink cunt to him. Feeling suddenly exposed and well aware of his fingers on her womanhood, Byleth gasped. Five years ago, she and Dimitri had never ventured this far sexually. The two had only kissed in fear of retaliation for their taboo relationship.

Upon awaking from her slumber, Byleth assumed that Dimitri would be the one to defile her. And yet, here was Claude positioned behind her, using her old relationship as leverage against her. The worst part was, he paid no mind to her protests.

Without warning, Claude's tongue ground against Byleth's entrance, lapping up whatever juice he could drain from the hole. Byleth inhaled sharply, then bit her bottom lip. She refused to give in to him.

This only kindled something dark within Claude; a deep desire to have his professor quivering at his feet, begging for his cock. He, however, would take his time and savor her taste. His tongue worked her cunt expertly while his hands roamed her thighs and ass, massaging circles into the lean flesh. Soon, his tongue focused on her clit with almost painful pressure, working itself up and down then left and right. He started agonizingly slow, and Byleth began to whimper.

Her response earned a smile against her clit, and Claude gradually began to add tempo to his pace. His technique made Byleth's legs tremble against his head. He gave one final long, hard suck against the nub before withdrawing his face from her parts. From behind, Claude witnessed the unsteady rise and fall of Byleth's chest, and despite the frigid air, noticed hair clinging to her drenched neck.

"C-Claude," Byleth breathed out between pants.

"You've always had an unusual amount of composure, Teach," His tan, slender fingers traced up her back, above her restrained wrists, and to the front of her face as his body leaned forward. "But watching your legs shake for me, now that is a sight to behold."

When Byleth's lips parted to speak, Claude seized the opportunity to force his fingers in her mouth. "Show me what those pretty little lips of yours can do," his words ghosted her ear. She had half a mind to bite down on his digits. The only thing stopping her was the position she was in. He had the upper hand, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Tentatively, her lips closed around Claude's fingers, and she swirled her tongue around them best she could. While her tongue served his fingers, he slid them down Byleth's throat, and she heaved against them. When Claude deemed them slick enough, he removed them before she would actually gag.

Still soaking, it was easy for Claude to insert them into her cunt, and he could have sworn she moaned. It wasn't a matter of if, but when she would be begging for him. His fingers curved inside her, and he massaged her walls, seeking her most sensitive area.

Byleth delivered a feeble moan, and Claude knew he had found it. "There we go," Claude announced, his fingers working feverishly at her slickened walls.

Byleth tossed her head back, relishing in the warmth that spread through her abdomen. "F-fuck, Claude." The sound of his name on her tongue made his cock drip with pre-cum.

To put Byleth over the edge, he reached in front of her and began to stroke her swollen clit. Both hands worked together tirelessly, and he felt her walls starting to clamp down on his fingers.

And then he stopped, removing his fingers from her entrance. He licked at the remnants of her cunt on his fingers and admired the near breathless woman beneath him.

"Claude, please-"

He smacked her ass.

"I already told you, Teach, I don't want to hear those words unless they're paired with the words fuck and me." As Claude reminded Byleth of his conditions, he undid his pants, his erection springing from its confines. He gripped his pulsating cock and rubbed it against Byleth's wet cunt.

The world around Byleth was spinning in a tipsy haze, and she swore she was intoxicated at that moment.

"Please, Claude, fuck me."

Immediately, Claude embraced Byleth's neck in the crook of his arm, the tip of his cock readying itself at her opening. "Sheesh, Teach, if that's what you wanted, all you had to do was ask." And, without warning, he plunged himself inside of her.

"Fuck," was the only word he could utter against her ear, his pelvis shifting flush against her ass.

Byleth felt a dull ripping sensation that soon dwindled into overwhelming bliss as Claude remained station inside her. She felt him twitch against her walls, his nails digging into the side of her hips.

"Teach, you feel fucking phenomenal."

Claude had been with countless women during Garreg Mach and after, but they paled in comparison to Byleth. Or, maybe he was blinded by the fact he couldn't actually have her. Not in the ordinary sense of the word 'have,' at least.

"Please, just stop talking, and start-"

Claude pulled back his hips only to propel himself hard into his teacher once again, and Byleth cried out. "I don't think you're in any position to make demands," he whispered against her ear, his arm pressing against her neck.

He started slow and meticulous, pulling his cock backward until it nearly spilled out of Byleth, only to thrust forward and fill her completely.

"I wonder," Claude began, drawing his cock back. "What Dimitri would say if he could see you now. How wet you are for my cock," his hips moved forward, stretching Byleth's walls. He half-expected her to protest, but her only answer was a needy moan. The display was all he needed to know that Dimitri was far from her mind.

He released her neck, and his hands gripped a fist full of her hair, jerking her head back. Then, he began to ravage her cunt with swift thrusts. With each moan she choked out, Claude's pace quickened. He fucked her with primal need, her body bouncing off his dick in perfect rhythm.

It wasn't long before an almost uncomfortable warmth bloomed in Byleth's core. First, her legs trembled, but then her whole body followed. With his unoccupied hand, Claude reached below Byleth, stumbling to find her clit in his haste. When he did, he stroked rough circles with his fingers against the puffed nub and pushed her head down into the cold cobblestone ground.

Byleth could barely handle the spine-numbing sensations that conquered her body. Claude, feeling her walls tighten, maneuvered his cock more rapidly, the bouncing adding friction to the fingers violating her clit. The woman yelled out his name over and over into the air as she neared her climax. When she finally released herself on Claude, he could no longer hold his own back.

His cock pulsed and his body hitched forward. Biting down on Byleth's shoulder, he released his warm cum in her walls. Claude rested his chest on her back, striving to regulate his erratic breathing. When he finally unlatched from her, a mixture of their climax seeped down her thigh and onto her stockings; a sight Claude was quite proud of.

With ease, Claude released her wrists from his makeshift restraints with a lively laugh. "See, Teach, that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

The next morning, the others were surprised to see Byleth still apart of their ranks. No one complained, however, especially Claude. His former professor proved valuable on and off the battlefield.

---

"Hey, Claude," Hilda's voice called out to the Alliance leader as she stood in the doorway of the Captain's Quarters. "Have you seen the Professor? I've been looking everywhere for her!"

Emerald eyes glanced up from the Tactician's Primer he was studying, his mouth puckering to one side. "I can't say that I have, Hilda. Did you try the sauna yet?"

"Oh, good idea!" And with that, Hilda practically bounced away.

Claude's composure deteriorated as soon as his retainer was out of sight.

"Fuck," He breathed, grasping at Byleth's hair as she swirled and bobbed her head along the length of his cock. From her knees, she glanced up at Claude, his sun-kiss faced was painted with a rosy-pink hue, and his unruly hair framed his handsome face.

And he was hers just as much as she was his. --- As always, I am taking requests! Just click on the request / comment / love link in the right-hand corner of my page! All Claude x Byleth fanfiction can be found searching just that; Claude x Byleth

[notasiren21]

The Darkness Comforts Me More (Ch. 2-pt 2.)

(Female Byleth x Felix)

~*~

She didn’t show up that day, and Felix missed her more than he cared to admit that night as well. He had been unable to sleep and he desperately wished it didn’t have to do with the fact that it was because she wasn’t in bed with him.

He sat in his desk, staring painfully at the wooden surface and books that laid before him. A familiar migraine presented itself yet again, leaving him irritable as always and hearing Seteth’s voice yelling at Sylvain and Caspar again for today’s lessons would send him on a murder spree. Had he been an imbecile, he would’ve blessed the goddess above for the silence that fell over the room as shoes clicked against stone.

But it was Felix, he was as sharp as a good blade.

He turned his head a fraction just in time to see Byleth walking in and passing him to her desk in front.

Face, pretty and blank as ever looked at the roster and then the room, checking names.

If no one was at the battle that day, they wouldn’t be able to tell she had just lost her father recently. She carried the lesson through and through, even when discussing a technique Jeralt used in close combat.

Felix could see the pain she carried though.

He could also see the vexed expression on the boar’s face and Sylvain contemplating on taking her back to her dorm or not to rest.

In all honesty, it would make most sense for Sylvain and Byleth to be together since their closeness in age and despite all, Sylvain was mature if one was to set aside girls for the matter.

Sobbing in the back of the classroom escalated and made his migraine pang violently against his right eye. Now who the hell...

Byleth stilled, “Who is crying.” How she managed to make that sound like a displeased statement instead of a question, the class may never know.

Byleth however, already knew. It was the same person Hilda had expressed more compassion for when she managed to drag herself out of bed. It was the talk of the rest of the school day when Claude came down on Hilda hard for being so insecure and harsh when Byleth’s father had just died, and to tell her she seemed fine and Hilda was more worried about Leonie.

Not to mention when he and Mercedes were walking to the greenhouse together for their daily chore and overheard Leonie weeping to Byleth like she had been the child of him instead of her.

If asked, Felix would admit from the bottom of his heart:

He thought she was bitch and insignificant.

It seemed the whole class was not fond of her to an extent as well. All trying to avoid the drama she brought forth.

Dimitri, ever the prince, tried to intervene. “Leonie, how about we calm down a-,”.

“Shut up! You don’t understand!” She screamed back.

Shut up.

Byleth still faced down at her notes, fingers playing with the edge of a book cover. “Leonie, please refrain yourself from disrupting my class.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Professor!”

Her head tilted, gears in her head turning to predict the outcome of this situation. How well was Felix beginning to read her? How well did he know..

“Excuse me?”

Oh, right. Fight ensuing.

He felt he should take part in stopping the fight, mainly for Byleth’s sake since she we still hurting. But really, he just wanted to see “the bitch get laid out” as Sylvain would say, wanting revenge for using his training sword one day without permission and breaking it.

“I’m just saying. Something crossed my mind, something I wanted to ask for awhile now.”

“And that is?”

There’s no way she is that childish or dumb to start-

“Are you really Captain Jeralt’s kid?”

Feel free to kill her, Byleth.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, choosing her words carefully, “That’s what I’m told.”

“That's a pretty detached tone to take about your own family.” Leonie bit back.

“That’s just my tone in general.” Felix nearly missed the cute quirk her dark eyebrow did in retaliation.

Leonie huffed angrily, “Sure, fine whatever then. Let me ask this, what’s your opinion of him, then? You must look up to him, at least?” The end of the sentence seemed too contradicting to be genuine or even remotely out of pure curiosity.

Byleth crossed her arms, “I respect him, of course.”

Present tense, she still holds him in high regards even after passing.

This seemed to push at her more than it should, “Hm. It doesn't sound like you really appreciate him. You didn't even know until you came here that he used to lead the Knights of Seiros, did you? If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be half the person you are now. You've probably never even thought about how lucky you are.”

The whole class was on edge and trying to silence her.

“Hey, stop.” Ashe tried, turning back to look at her.

“Leonie, seriously knock it off, that’s enough.” Ingrid said beside her.

“Ugh! OK, this really bothers me! Listen up. I don't care if you're the teacher and I'm the student. I'm going to outshine you. I know you were some famous mercenary before you came here, but let me tell you something... I'm going to be better than you ever were! In fact, I'll surpass you in no time at all, so don't blink. You might miss it.”

Byleth blinked.

Felix snickered. That was cute.

She didn’t offer her the curtesy of responding, not giving her the time of day. Earning immense respect from the pitying students and concerning Felix further knowing who she was behind closed doors.

“Really? Nothing to say?”

“What did you want me to say? I was taking my time to see if I missed it. Didn’t find anything.”

“Listen here-,” Leonie stood from her desk, hands pressing against wood.

Byleth took a glance at Felix, feeling his impatience rubbing off on her and sending a subtle smirk his way that the rest of the class missed.

“Maybe you should be more concerned with something other than me?”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Perhaps your grades? The most pressing would ironically be your grade in sword fight and techniques?”

“Where the hell do you get off, Byleth?” There was venom in her voice.

“That’s Professor to you, and I’m just merely mentioning it to inform you that you’re currently at a D+. Whatever you’ve been doing since then has clearly reflected poorly and no, this isn’t biased or out of judgement.”

“It clearly is!” She shrieked, flames engulfing her cheeks and matching her horrible hair.

What was Sylvain’s phrase again? ‘Just lay the bitch out’?

“It’s not. I’d tell you to ask my father who happened to sit in on that one week -per your insistent and pestering requests that had him drinking rum in my classroom- and he had been disappointed, seemingly expecting you to at least live up to half the hype you created yourself.”

“I knew I smelled alcohol then.” Sylvain murmured to himself.

“You’re lying!”

‘Lay. The. Bitch. Out.’. Huh, has a nice ring to it.

“I’m not. He spent that following weekend training with you in hopes that the blame didn’t fall to him. He traced the issue back to you.”

She was marching up towards the desk and both Dimitri, Sylvain, and Felix jumped to action, a standing protectively in front of Byleth.

Dimitri tried reasoning with her again, “Come on, Leonie, this isn’t necessary.”

“Back off, prince of the naive. I need to take care of this bitch.”

Felix growled, surprising some in the class. “The only bitch here, is you. I’d suggest you step off before we really see what a D+ swordsman looks like against an A+graded swordsman with a A in dark magic.” His hand was ready to draw his sword.

“Holy shit, you’re that good?” Sylvain cocked his head in interest, earning a glare from a few for his distraction.

Leonie struggled against the boys, growing more aggravated by the second. “I was doing just fine, had high grades every semester.”

“Our teacher last year was more incapable than Manuela after a drinking binge.” Ashe remarked.

“But then you come along... And it's like you don't appreciate Captain Jeralt at all, or how lucky you were to have him around your whole life! Ugh! It still really bothers me! You might be his kid, but I'm still his best apprentice! Got it?!”

“Are you done?”

“Am I done? Really? That’s what you’re going to say?”

“If I contradict you anymore, you might just burst.”

“Go ahead, bitch.”

Teeth bared from Felix, a low growl emitting from his chest again. “Call her a bitch one more time, Pinelli.”

Dimitri tried holding her back, “Leonie, please settle yourself. This isn’t proper.”

“I said go ahead!”

“He told me every so often I had been his best apprentice up until I won him in a duel. He said from then on, I would forever be his best apprentice and his best equal.”

Leonie faltered.

Byleth walked by, stoic and expressionless but anger and something feral swelled in her eyes that greatly worried Felix.

She stopped short, near where the red head and the boys were holding her. “I don’t take kindly to those who try to insistently bed my father, Leonie.” She glanced, shocked. “Yes, I’m well aware. I caught you slipping alcohol into his food on several occasions and catching him as he stumbled out of rooms sick, grabbing onto me as he whispered your intentions and to escort him away before you found him again.”

Dimitri let go of her like she burned him, Sylvain stepped back, judgement passing his eyes knowing he would never even go that far.

And Felix drew his sword.

Byleth’s hand settled on his, guiding it back to his belt. “Settle, I think she learned her lesson.” She looked fully at all the boys who heard the most secret confession that they could imagine. “That was never intended to lay upon your ears, but keep it to yourselves. As much as she acts a monster, she’s human.” Byleth walked away, not so even much as a glance in the persistent girl’s direction. “Oh, and boys?”

They turned their attention to her.

Her dazzling smile and that damn dimple made full appearance, even if it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Yeah?” Sylvain called out.

“Take her to Lady Rhea and Seteth, see to it that she is transferred out of my class and dealt with. That is all, class is dismissed.” And she disappeared.

[ncfan-1]

So, a little while ago I did a “try out less trodden class paths” run of Three Houses. It was a Blue Lions run, since I both wanted to revisit that path for fic writing purposes, and because it was the base house that had the largest number of students I wanted to try out different classes on.

The results, as you can imagine, were mixed.

Caspar made for such a good Swordmaster that I took him to the endgame with me, and while I was surprised by this at first, when I thought about it a little more, it didn’t surprise me nearly as much. Caspar may not have a proficiency in swords, but his growths lend themselves well to sword-wielding classes, especially once you reclass him to a sword-wielding class and you get those modifiers to his growth rates. I had made him a Hero in my Silver Snow run purely because I wanted to get his sword rank high enough to wield the rapier so he could take down the Death Knight in his and Mercedes’s paralogue, and he was good with swords in that one, too. Asides from him, Felix and Mercedes were both excellent Bow Knights, filling different niches--Felix with his high strength and speed hit like a truck, and Mercedes with a magic bow absolutely decimated low res units, and even middling res units as well.

On the other end of the spectrum, while neither Ferdinand, Sylvain, nor Leonie were bad at being Holy Knights, per se, and Ferdinand is one of only two units who I think actually looks good in the Holy Knight armor (suits his personality and aesthetic pretty well, I think), I will likely not class them into Holy Knights again. Ferdinand is fine as a Paladin--plenty of the advanced classes are fine as endgame classes, and Paladin is definitely one of them--or a Wyvern Lord, Leonie is so much better as a Bow Knight, and maybe one day I’ll find a class Sylvain actually excels at, because he’s been kinda meh as a Dark Knight for me (Not as meh as poor Lorenz, though). And nowadays, I’ve had Dorothea as a Gremory, a Mortal Savant, and in this playthrough a Swordmaster, and I don’t think I’m ever going to make her into anything but a Gremory, ever again.

But by far, the two stars of this run were Falcon Knight Marianne and Gremory Ingrid.

Classing Marianne away from a magic-wielding class is, I think, probably not the most unconventional thing I could have done, especially since I sent her down the Pegasus line. I think that with every student unit in this game, there are a couple--sometimes up to three or four--different paths that are optimal to send them down, in different ways. For Marianne, you could make her a Swordmaster or a Paladin, and those classes would suit her pretty well thanks to her magic-based Combat Arts. You could level up her Reason Magic and make her a Gremory.

The master class I think the game pushes you hardest towards with Marianne is Holy Knight. On a purely visuals-based level, she is the only unit in the game besides Ferdinand whom I think the armor in that class looks good on, thanks to her color palette making the armor white with gold accents, and the cape a dark blue, which to be honest is exactly what I think of when I think holy knight. More seriously, given her proficiencies in Faith, Swords, Riding, Flying, and that her budding talent is in Lances, the game is pushing you towards mixed attacker with Marianne, and speaking as someone who made her a Holy Knight in every run she played but this one, Marianne excels as a mixed attacker.

She really feels like the only unit in the whole game that the Holy Knight class was really made for. As I said above, Ferdinand, Sylvain, and Leonie weren’t great at it, and designated healer units that I’ve classed into Holy Knight in the past (aka Linhardt and Mercedes) excelled much more as a Bishop or as a Gremory. Marianne, on the other hand, kicks so much ass as a Holy Knight that it isn’t even funny. Out of all the designated healers, I would say that her spell list is the most attack-oriented, because even Manuela only has two attack Faith spells, while Marianne has three. Marianne is one of only three characters in the base game to get two magic-based Combat Arts (the others being Ingrid and Edelgard), which means that even with less spell charges, she’s not in trouble because she has Soulblade and Frozen Lance to fall back on. Her Crest increases damage output on physical attacks. Also, her bloodline’s Relic, Blutgang, is a magic sword that deals magic-based damage; if that isn’t the devs telling us it’s alright to make Marianne a physical class or a mixed attacker if we want to, I don’t know what is. And five Physic uses isn’t that big of a loss, especially since if you’re doing any recruiting at all Marianne is probably not your only Physic user--hell, if you’re playing as female Byleth, you can get a Physic user for free (And just because I don’t think Sylvain is that great of a Dark Knight doesn’t mean I don’t think the game isn’t pushing him towards that).

With all that said, it’s not hard to see how Falcon Knight is the other master class I think the game is pushing Marianne towards. She has all the proficiencies required to get there with plenty of chapters to spare, and even with her low strength growths, high magic plus Soulblade and Frozen Lance means she’s not without recourse for dealing loads of damage. And in my experience, Marianne’s performance as a Falcon Knight was similar to her performance as a Holy Knight, minus being able to wield magic and plus gaining a ton of speed. She was good. She excelled at this.

Ingrid, on the other hand, I wasn’t as confident about going in. Ingrid, I feel, is being pushed by the game first to become a Falcon Knight, and if not a Falcon Knight, then a Paladin. Her growths favor these classes, and her base speed growths are so high that the massive speed penalty that comes with the Paladin class isn’t likely to affect her too much. Incidentally, Ingrid’s proficiencies are almost identical to Marianne’s; the only difference is that she’s neutral in Faith, rather than proficient. She is very much being pushed towards physical classes, rather than magical classes or mixed attacker classes.

But when you look at it, Ingrid has the potential to become a great mixed attacker. Her base growths in strength and magic are the same. Like Marianne, she learns two magic-based Combat Arts, Hexblade and Frozen Lance, though she gets them much later on. Marianne gets Soulblade at C+ in Swords, and Frozen Lance is your reward for unlocking her budding talent; Ingrid, on the other hand, doesn’t get her magic-based Arts until she’s at A in Swords and Lances, almost as if she’s not intended to be dealing magic-based damage until she’s reached an advanced class (More on that later). Her Reason list is almost identical to Marianne’s--both learn Blizzard, Thoron, and Fimbulvetr, which are all spells with high Critical Hit chances, and Marianne only learns one spell in excess of Ingrid’s list, Cutting Gale. From Faith, Ingrid learns Physic, which is a good utility spell, and Seraphim, the monster-killing spell, which makes me think that Falcon Knights were originally meant to be geared towards killing monsters like they were in Echoes, since Ingrid is the only unit in the game being pushed hard towards this class, and she just happens to learn a spell that’s super-effective against monsters.

So Ingrid does have potential as a magic-wielding unit. Sure, she’s hands down the best unit in the game to make into a Falcon Knight (tried it out on Hilda this time, and let me just say: Falcon Knight!Hilda is Wyvern Lord!Hilda Lite; it’s okay, but it feels like a watered down version of Wyvern Lord!Hilda), but she’s got potential as a mage, too. But I was still a little nervous, because while her base magic growth is the same as her base strength growth, both are on the low side, and just judging from what I’ve heard, it’s rare to get an Ingrid who’s been strength-blessed by the RNG gods. Even with class boosts to her growths, there was still a very real chance she’d get screwed on her magic stats.

As you can see above, she did not get magic-screwed. At all.

Yes, this is after I fed her some magic stat boosters, but do you want to know what it was before I did that? 43. She got to 43 magic all by her lonesome, without any help from any Spirit Dusts or any Premium Magic Herbs, and she was fantastic. She was critting left and right, no one could hit her, she could still double Assassins despite no longer being in a class that boosted her speed growths, and she was overall my biggest, most unexpected success story from this run.

Now, let’s talk DLC.

As most of you probably know, the next wave of DLC coming out--can’t remember if it’s in the free wave or the paid wave--includes several new classes. Do you want to guess what one of them is? If the rumors are true, one of the new classes we’re getting is Dark Flier.

Previously, I mentioned that I really wanted to make Flayn a Dark Flier if I ever got the opportunity. Her proficiency in Faith, budding talent in Reason, and the fact that she comes with high enough skill bases in Lances and Flying to be immediately reclassed to Pegasus Knight makes me think that the pegasus line was the route we were being pushed towards with her, if we decided Bishop or Gremory wasn’t for us (And speaking as someone who’s made Flayn a Falcon Knight three runs running, she’s amazing as a pegasus unit). The fact that she’s such a potent magic user made me wish we’d get Dark Flier as a class, back when we still didn’t know what the future held in terms of DLC.

Well, nowadays, I still want to make Flayn a Dark Flier. Wanting to make her a Dark Flier is probably the biggest reason my first run after the DLC drops isn’t going to be a Crimson Flower run. But seeing how well Marianne does as a flying unit, how well Ingrid does as a magic unit, and just how much potential both have as mixed attackers, I really want to try them both out as Dark Fliers, too.

I just hope the DLC classes don’t require super-rare seals like Dark Mage and Dark Bishop. That would suck.

[three-houses-text-files]

manuela/seteth

c-a support + paired ending

*warning: contains character spoilers

c

Seteth: Manuela. A moment? Manuela: Oh, hello, Seteth. M: I must apologize, but I am quite busy. Perhaps we could talk another time? S: I have already confirmed that you have no urgent business. I would like to hear your explanation now. M: My explanation? For what? S: Allow me to be more specific. Where were you, and what were you doing, last night? M: Oh, my dear Seteth. You must relax that worried brow. Those forehead creases will ruin your beauty. S: Just answer the question, please. M: What question is that? The one you already know the answer to? M: Last night, I had a bit of fun, and a bit of drink. Less of one and more of the other, sure. But... S: How much you drink is not my concern. S: But you are an adult who is tasked with the supervision of children. You should not be causing trouble for the students. S: It is unacceptable for you to expose them to your disgraceful behavior. Even more so to impose upon them the labor of cleaning up your mess. M: Oh, don't oversell it. All they did was walk with me back to my room. S: From what I hear, you had to be carried. M: I'd like to think I'd remember that. If it happened— and it probably didn't—it's not as if I'm heavy. Nobody hurt themselves. Did they? M: Come on, Seteth! Loosen up. M: If you're so worried about how I'll behave, why don't you join me for a drink sometime? M: I mean, I only get in trouble when I drink alone... S: If it will help to improve your behavior, I would not object to accompanying you from now on. M: Well, that sounds just delicious. What are you doing tonight around— S: But first, I will lecture you on all of the intricacies of proper behavior in the supervision of children. And until I am done, you will not drink a drop of alcohol. S: If you agree to those conditions, I will join you. I will even drink with you. Alcohol has little effect on me. M: That is just... You know, getting lectured by you is, well, I think the word is "torture." Yes. That's it. Torture. And I won't have it. M: I'm going to go get a drink and try to forget this ever happened. S: How is it that you imagine yourself the tortured one?

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b (i?)

M: … S: It seems I am not the only one here. Manuela? M: Oh! Seteth. Hello. S: This is quite the surprise. I would not expect to find you here outside of ordinary prayer time. M: Praying? No, no. I was just...resting. Whenever I'm in the infirmary, I simply cannot get out of doing work. I need a place to sit and close my eyes. S: There is no need to hide it. It is obvious you were praying quite solemnly just now. M: No, I was— Oh, I was just enjoying some old memories. That's all. M: In fact, I was just thinking about when my parents first brought me here as a child. M: I wandered off from my parents because I heard a beautiful voice. It was a woman. Singing. Somewhere just out of sight. M: I began to sing along, hoping she would hear me and that we might meet. I never found her, whoever she was. Yet it was she who taught me I could sing. S: Interesting. I had never heard that. But I suppose, if you were only a child, this would be before I arrived at Garreg Mach. S: In any case, if that singing voice helped you find your way, then that is a wonderful thing. M: I’ve never told anyone else, but I believe it was the goddess I heard. And that day, she gifted me my singing voice. M: And I thank the goddess for leading me back here after I left the opera company. S: You know, when you speak of the goddess in this way, it is as though you are an entirely different person. S: If you were to behave that way more in your daily life, I would have a much higher opinion of you. M: That’s very sweet coming from you, Seteth. M: Should I take that to mean that you like your ladies pious and respectable? S: One little compliment and you completely lose control of yourself. What am I to do with you? M: Oh, it's a joke. Look, I'm just no good at serious conversations. M: Although I would be lying if I said I wasn't interested in knowing what kind of woman does get your attention. S: As thanks for the touching tale you have shared, I will satisfy your curiosity just this once. S: My preferred woman is kind, quiet, and proper. But above all else, she is straightforward and honest. M: Quiet? Proper?! There's no need to be cruel, Seteth!

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b (ii?)

S: ... M: Seteth? S: Hello, Manuela. Is something the matter? S: You surprised me, is all. Though not as surprised as you, when you found me here before. M: I've never seen you offering up prayers so solemnly. S: I suppose I do typically make an effort to come here when no one else is around. S: Many look to me for guidance. I do not wish to disturb anyone's prayers with my own. S: But I did not come here only to pray. M: Really? Then what were you doing? S: I was swearing an oath to Saint Cethleann. S: She is a special figure to me. It's become part of my routine to swear this oath before her likeness. S: More than any other, she wishes for a peaceful world. I believe it is my duty to grant her wish. (pre-skip) S: She is a very special figure to me. That is why I swear my oaths to her likeness. S: She wished, more than any other, for a peaceful world. I will grant her that wish, at any cost. (post-skip) M: I had no idea you held such a passionate secret devotion, Seteth. M: The legends of Saint Cethleann do depict her as a kind, proper, and honorable woman... M: And she was so gentle and quiet. Really kept to herself. It's no wonder you're infatuated with her. S: I t-think you may have misunderstood me. M: It must be very lonely to be so in love with someone from the distant past. S: She is very special to me, yes. But not in that way. M: You don't have to hide it from me, Seteth. I can keep a secret. M: But people from the past are gone. No matter how much you care for her, she can't love you back. M: Now then, if you turned your eyes to me...I could respond to your deepest, most powerful feelings. S: You are completely mistaken!

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a

S: Manuela. About what we discussed earlier...with regard to Saint Cethleann. S: I feel the need to correct your misapprehensions. M: Oh, I won't expose your passion to the light of day. I told you I can keep a secret. S: That's not it at all! How can I make you see... S: I suppose there is no other way. Allow me to tell you a very old story. M: What kind of story? Is it about your past? Because there's a story I could enjoy hearing. S: I once had a wife. She passed from this world, a very long time ago. M: … S: She was wise, kind of heart, and always smiling. A most wonderful woman. S: Not long after we married, we were blessed with a child. A girl. M: You had a wife and a daughter? Why would you have kept that secret? S: To protect my daughter. S: That has been my foremost concern, ever since I had the misfortune to lose my wife. S: It is my daughter who resembles Saint Cethleann. That is why I make my oath to this statue. M: Hmm… Your story doesn't sound right to me. I don't mind saying it.  S: Why is that? M: When you talked about your ideal woman before, your description was almost exactly Saint Cethleann. M: Now you're telling me your daughter is a perfect match? S: It is not an exact resemblance. My daughter, for instance, is neither proper nor quiet. S: In any case, even in matters of love, an ideal seldom lives up to reality. That is the way of the world. M: Do it again! Say "the way of the world" with a serious face! M: You’re so stern and proper, but you really can be quite funny. I love a man who can make me laugh. S: My wife used to say the same thing. I never quite understood what was so funny. M: I sound like your late wife? Don't tell me... I actually resemble her, don't I? Mirror image, I bet. S: Absolutely not. Though... No. Unthinkable. M: The way you say it, I suppose I must resemble her a little. Well, isn't that an honor. M: Say, Seteth. Have you ever considered remarrying? You know, just so you're not alone? S: It is not a thought that has ever crossed my mind. I have been too preoccupied with fatherhood. M: It’s been a long time since your wife passed, right? You should start thinking about it. M: There could be someone who finds you handsome. Someone close by. Maybe even right in front of you. S: Whatever you said just now, I didn't quite hear. S: But to remarry—I'd never even considered it an option until you brought it up just now. S: My daughter will not want to remain by my side forever. Perhaps it is time I thought about it. (flayn doesn’t die?) S: I suppose my daughter would not have wished for me to remain alone forever. (flayn dies?) M: I’d be happy to help you mull it over, if you like. How about tonight? We could go out for a drink... S: Are we back to this again? S: Oh, very well. Just see that you do not drink too much. I would rather not have to carry you home.

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paired ending

After the war, Seteth remained at the monastery to rebuild the church. Several years of hard restorative work later, he received a letter from Manuela. She wrote that she had traveled to a small, war-torn town and opened up a school for children. Reminded of the beauty and compassion in Manuela's heart, Seteth was moved to leave the monastery and join her there. As they worked together to manage the budding institution, the couple fell in love and eventually were married. It is said that their students were overjoyed.

[professor-tammi]

ok time for some more Three Houses babbling (Blue Lions stuff still!), I have more THOUGHTS to share, with the void of the internet

spoilers for post-time skip stuff (I mostly talk supports and some monastery convos here, not so much story stuff :D)

Dimitri finally stopped being too emo for supports so I got his A rank with Dedue and it’s adorable... he’s SO genuinely upset that Dedue considers himself more vassal than friend and then when Dedue finally calls Dimitri by his name instead of by his title he blushes as he says it. thank you for the blessed cute lord/vassal content IntSys

also if spoken to in the monastery, Dedue claims he doesn’t find Edgelord Dimitri to be any different from the “old Dimitri” and says he was always the type to care too much for the fallen due to his kindness, which is one way to view his murderous behavior haha. I guess it simply shows Dedue understands him best, though :D!

I found out that if you recruit characters from different houses, they’ll actually have route-specific dialogue, which is really interesting! Lysithea will talk about how she doesn’t approve of Dimitri’s actions and is happy once he uh, gets over it, so to speak, and Caspar discusses Dimitri’s treatment of Randolph (as they’re related) and, again once Dimitri comes to his senses, says that he came to him personally to apologize for what he’d done (which makes a lot of sense given Dimitri literally tortured the guy, yeesh)

also in the mission right before Dimitri stops being antisocial there’s a random soldier who mentions he saw Dimitri patting the head of an orphan and seems surprised the prince is even capable of doing something like that which is the saddest random NPC dialogue. I Cry

anyway back to supports I got the Felix/Sylvain A+ support and it has Sylvain faking being near death to mess with Felix who actually buys it and is completely beside himself with worry... Felix is such an idiot I love him?? (also he even claims he wants to hug Sylvain in the support and Sylvain’s really happy he said that and they like. blush about it. HELLO)

I recruited Marianne specifically bc I was curious about her supports with Dimitri, and I love them too!! the B rank is already a bit interesting as Dimitri tries to tell Marianne he relates to her insecurity in herself and she seems a bit confused as to how he could possibly relate (which I like as it takes her out of her shell a bit), and the A rank has them bonding some more over their trauma and is just kind of really sweet in general and I really want some Dimitri/Marianne content but I feel like it’s going to take a long time people get around to realizing their supports even exist... anyway one day someone out there in the world will draw some cute fan art of them and I will be happy. I believe

(no I can’t just draw stuff myself that’s silly)

I feel like I should mention something about Annette/Mercedes bc it’s the only A rank between two women the Lions get but while their A rank is very cute I found the chain overall a bit lacking, and the continuity also feels weird (I triggered the B rank before the time skip and it ends with them having a fight, so having them only make up post-time skip felt really off??)

honestly the lack of good F/F content in the Blue Lions may be my only issue with them but I guess that’s what Black Eagles are for

THAT SAID the Ingrid/Dorothea stuff in the paralogue is Good and very blatant, Dorothea canonically would marry Ingrid in a heartbeat and I love that!! I love Dorothea in general... the Yuri Queen tbh...

Dorothea/Felix A+ is also cute bc Felix can’t hold a conversation with someone to save his life and Dorothea is just. trying so hard to talk to him like a normal person how is Felix so consistently the funniest character in the game purely by virtue of his non-existent social skills

I like Ingrid as a character and I feel her supports are quite decent overall but at the same time none stand out to me as a favorite? I rather liked the Mercedes ones as they bond over their families trying to marry them off against their wishes but it ends at a B rank :( help who do I pair Ingrid with (tbh I think the game wants me to pair her with Sylvain and their supports are cute enough once you reach A sooo)

I recruited Caspar bc I was curious about his Ashe supports and the support chain is just them becoming cat dads which. okay it’s not terribly interesting but I can’t say it’s not cute

my verdict on Ashe as a character: the goodest boy

for Annette I’m kind of hoping she has a platonic paired ending with Gilbert where the whole family reunites bc I did their support chain and it’s sad but really cute, I’m so weak for family drama

I’ve also noticed some pairs of characters have unique dialogue for when you make them do group tasks, dine with them, etc etc and some of it also changes post-time skip and this just makes me want to find all of the unique dialogue in the game!! somebody stop me

some pairs who have dialogue like that: Dimitri/Dedue, Dimitri/Felix, Ingrid/Sylvain, Annette/Mercedes, Catherine/Shamir, Manuela/Hanneman... I’m sure there’s lots of others

[popelei-blog]

Week 2 - Medellín & Santa Marta

Week 2. What a week. Highs and lows and then mega highs again. So high, we lost our feet in flight and realised the lows we had were there to keep ourselves firmly on the ground.

After the Festival El Gesto Noble we went to Medellín. There we visited a cool theatre called Oficina Central de los Sueños in the centre that’s run by Jaiver Jurado who uses it as a space for his theatre company as well as a place for artists to rehearse, create and learn. It was very cool. I’d love a space like that one day. #keepdreaming

Whilst in Medellín we were staying with one of Camilo’s friends (god bless Cami and all his contacts!) Wilson Barrera. He had a spare room which he kindly let us use. What a dude! It was very welcome - unfortunately the two shows we did in Medellín at the CasaTeatro El Poblado were not very well attended. A definite fault with the team at the theatre who didn’t try very hard to promote the show. A humongous shame. But the small crowd we had in absolutely LOVED IT! We had a standing ovation from the 16 (eeek) on the second night and a nice gentleman even returned from seeing it on the first night to share his thesis on Manuela Sáenz and a picture of Manuela and Simón that he had.

We left Medellín feeling a little sore of ego. After such great responses in Bogotá and the festival it was a real shame more people didn’t get to see it in Medellín. I wanted to write a strongly worded letter to Lina, director of El Poblado, to complain about their lack of promotion but I didn’t. Every draft email I wrote was so passive aggressive, I couldn’t bring myself to send any of them. It made me think about contracts and splits and all that – do theatre companies ever get an assurance against a theatre and their lack of promotion? It’s usually the other way around – the theatre gets a guarantee if the show doesn’t sell enough. But what happens when the theatre doesn’t do their job properly?

Onwards. It wasn’t hard to stay down for long. We were flying to SANTA MARTA - Caribbean coastal town of dreams. We stepped off the aeroplane into 35 degree heat, ufff! We had our sunnies on, flip flops out and were full of excitement for the show at La Quinta San Pedro Alejandrino where Simón Bolívar died in 1830. The Museo Bolivariano had housed us in a rather fancy hotel which was lush after sharing a room with Tamsin the fart-a-holic and Camilo the snorer. (You’d think it would be the other way around, no?)

That evening we went to the Quinta to prepare the lights for the following evening. We finally met the wonderful crew in charge, Rosa Cotes and Johanna, who I had only been in contacted with via email and whatsapp for the last 6 months. Their theatre, Joaquin de Mier, is a beautiful open air amphitheatre type space all painted in white with dramatic looking trees surrounding it. They were hoping for at least 400 people - shitters, that’s BIG. After dinner, a few beers and a walk along the beach we rested up ready for the show the following day.

Now these guys know about promotion! We ended up having about 900 people there, although it could have been more. It was insane. I have never in my life performed to so many people. Both Camilo and I were bricking it. But the atmosphere was so electric it was hard not to lap up the adrenaline and buzz buzz buzz. 

15 mins before we went on the electricity went. Haha – welcome to Latin America. We hung out in the dark with our phones as light until it came back on just in time. The whole place looked incredible jam-packed full of people. The Caribbean sunset had left a lingering pinkness in the sky and the trees behind the stage were lit up like a magical forest. The crickets sang their song and as night fell we performed under the stars. An unforgettable evening. 

Performing in such a large space meant we really had to work our voices and guitar strings. And I have never taken so much time over my words – it was good practice. The audience were with us the whole way through – clapping after every song, every moment of audience participation and every promotion that Manuela received in the army. And then, of course, 1 minute before the very end…the electricity went AGAIN. Haha – what could we do but laugh? The audience applause was enormous and they all used their phones to light the stage for our bow. Afterwards we were bombarded with people wanting photos and to share their appreciation for the show. It was very beautiful. One comment we received later was “it is of immeasurable value the gift you are bringing to these countries lacking self-esteem with your honest performance”. That’s pretty cool. It certainly feels like the story has a lot more impact over here – both through the music and the narrative.

After the super duper high of that night, we got 2 days off to enjoy the sights of Santa Marta. We went for a day trip to Tayrona National park where besides Tamsin getting attacked by some weird type of wasp, we got to do some serious walking and some serious sunbathing. We burnt our pale little bodies in the Caribbean sun and waddled back to town completely pooped out. That evening we met up with one of Camilo’s friends, Oriana, who was in Santa Marta to perform with her grandmother, the legendary Toto La Momposina, at the festival of Santa Marta. We actually met Toto, which was full on awesome and got to giggle with her and Oriana about ‘cachacos’ over some freshly made ‘curuba’ juice – yum!

And that’s the end of week 2 and the end of our time in Colombia (for the moment anyway). So far, nearly 2000 people have seen the show over 9 performances. Not bad ey? Next up – Country # 2 – COSTA RICA!

[three-houses-text-files]

ferdinand/manuela

c-a support + paired endings

c

Ferdinand: My princess is lovely, my princess is fair, She sings like cicadas in midsummer's air— Manuela: Cicadas? Those noisy little bugs that swarm about? Endlessly mingling with one another? F: Oh! Good point. I will revise... F: My princess is lovely, my princess is fair, She sings like a swallow in midsummer's air— M: Migrating birds... Never sticking around for long. Always off to find love somewhere else... F: No! Wh-what I meant was, ah, hm... M: Oh, Ferdinand. You're just not yourself today. M: You don't seem focused. Your poetry...lacks poetry. Perhaps a break is in order. F: I would not dream of stopping now. This is my golden opportunity! M: Pardon me? F: We are finally alone. Just the two of us. M: Why…yes. We are, aren't we? F: You see, Manuela, I have long admired you. M: Is that a fact? F: I saw you perform countless times while you were with the opera company. M: I see. So, what did you think? F: The figure you cut, that heartbreaking voice... I was mesmerized. F: That is why I am tongue-tied. I am nervous about speaking to you alone, after idolizing you for so long. M: There’s no need to be nervous, Ferdinand. That songstress you recall...is long gone. M: I get nervous too, you know. But I want you to feel relaxed around me. Understood? F: Yes! Uh, ahem... Yes, I promise to try. M: You’re really full of surprises, you know that? M: I assumed you'd be more interested in combat than the arts. M: Come and chat sometime? I'd love to hear more about how my performances mesmerized you.

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b

M: Hmm… Let's see... Has to be here somewhere... F: Oh, my princess! Pray tell, are you seeking a book? M: Ferdinand… You should probably settle down a little with the "princess" talk.  M: Just speak to me normally. My "princess" days are long gone. F: I could not disagree more! F: To me, you will always be that dazzling songstress, that veritable princess of the opera. F: From ages five to eleven, I never missed a single one of your performances. F: Seeing you on stage was like glimpsing heaven. I was overcome with bliss. M: You’re going a little overboard. And I... I think I may have something in my eye. F: An elegant coalescence of beautiful song and frenetic swordplay. That was the most memorable aspect for me. F: Onstage, weapon in hand, letting your ballad soar to the heavens... F: Honestly, the first time I held a sword, it was not to train. I was trying to do your sword dance. M: I inspired your love of weaponry? How...flattering? F: Correct! It is all thanks to you. M: Oh, come now... M: Although I'm honored if my stage presence had any such influence on your life. F: The honor is all mine. You blessed me by returning to my life. F: No matter where I go, or who I end up marrying, my childhood memory of you is inscribed in the deepest depths of my heart. M: … F: Is something the matter? M: Oh, nothing. I just feel a little empty inside now...

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a

F: ♪How the crimson rain of pain it came, falling hard upon a land aflame. When the sacred blade it split the sky, until the heavens heard our cry...♪ F: ♪In the hour of vengeance, will you heed the call? On the red fields of revenge, will you help avenge? We must fight strong and stand tall!♪ M: Oh, Ferdinand! That song... F: Manuela, ah, hello! What a treat. It is most rare to see you at the training grounds. F: I have never had the honor of sparring with a princess. Why not grab a sword? M: Ferdinand. That's called changing the subject. M: That song you were singing, is it the one you said made such an impression on you? F: So, you heard me... F: I hope it was not too grating on your ears. M: You’ve nothing at all to be embarrassed about! I'm pleased if one of my songs stayed with you like that. M: Ahhh, it really takes me back. I remember the big battle in the first act... M: ♪How the crimson rain of pain it came, falling hard upon a land aflame. When the sacred blade it split the sky, until the heavens heard our cry...♪ M: ♪In the hour of vengeance, will you heed the call? On the red fields of revenge, will you help avenge? We must fight strong and stand tall!♪ M: Wow. My heyday is behind me, that's for sure. F: No, that was...wonderful! Exactly the voice I recall from my childhood. F: To have witnessed this performance in such an intimate setting... I am deeply moved! F: I cannot stop trembling. I feel as though I am going to cry. You have shaken me to my very core! M: All right, Ferdinand. Relax. I can see that it's affected you deeply. F: You made a little boy's cherished dream come true. Perhaps you can help realize one more. M: Another one? And what would that be? F: Would you do the sword dance with me—the one that accompanied the song? F: It had a part for a male performer if I recall. M: I would be truly honored. M: I’m sure I can't do it as well now as I could then. But you're just so adorably...you. I can't resist. F: Thank you so much. That has long been a dream of mine, and you made it a reality. M: I gotta say, Ferdinand, you're full of surprises. M: It was like dancing with a pro. Perfect timing, always in step... F: All thanks to you. You inspired me. M: Or perhaps it was you who inspired me.

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paired endings

Almost immediately after becoming the new Duke Aegir, Ferdinand married Manuela, and the two dedicated themselves to reformation efforts. Manuela lent her considerable talent and experience, using personal connections she'd gained in her time as a songstress and teacher to assemble a team of talented people. Between her personal skills and her ability as a physician, she became so essential that the emperor saw fit to make her the new prime minister. As she spent more time in the capital, bringing the reforms that helped Aegir territory to the Empire at large, Ferdinand stayed behind, minding his own lands and looking after their child. (black eagles route)

Almost immediately after becoming the new Duke Aegir, Ferdinand married Manuela, and the two dedicated themselves to reformation efforts. Manuela lent her considerable talent and experience, using personal connections she'd gained in her time as a songstress and teacher to assemble a team of talented people. Between her personal skills and her ability as a physician, she became so essential that she was called upon to help bring the reforms that helped Aegir territory to Fódlan at large. While she traveled the world, Ferdinand stayed behind, minding his own lands and looking after their child. (other)