#do i dare put this in the claude tag?
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secondpersonpoetry · 15 days ago
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hi! heard the released “Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call” (which i’ve seen you’ve heard live, if i’m not mistaken!!) this morning and i don’t know if there’s really a particular vibe/dynamic/ship hrpf-wise (personally haven’t yet been able to put my finger on it) that quite relates but the lyrics have been rotating in my head all day and i was wondering if you had any thoughts? hope you have a good one! <3
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OH ANON HAVE I EVER SEEN IT LIVE!!! and the second that song came out i zoomed it straight into my fic playlist and unfortunately there are so many guys this could be. right now the one that's resonating is, of course, the golden boy and his haunted ghost themselves: mcstrome.
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i am thinking about connor, specifically, after the stanley cup final. that game seven. how angry he was, how loud the silence when they told him he won the conn smythe. how close he's come before and again and again lost. there's nobody else to blame but himself. he's in the empty room and he knows why (1)
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at!! your best!!! you were magic!!! oh, golden boy. connor the anointed, of course. at the very beginning of his career we always knew he was something special and who wouldn't have fallen in love with him? weren't all of us a little bit dylan strome in awe of the generational talent? we were all bathed in radiant light just by being in the vicinity (2)
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don't even tell 'em that you know me breaks my heart (3). in terms of building a narrative i think i've said before there is a universe where connor/dylan were together before the draft and to protect both of them, dylan breaks up with him. connor says i love you and dylan says i don't. because he doesn't, you know? he loved connor. he loved davo. he can't be in love with connor mcdavid, first overall pick of the edmonton oilers. i'd rather be hurt forever than have to watch us try to make this work and destroy us.
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and after connor mcdavid left the otters, dylan strome captained them to a memorial cup win. what a haunted home, eh? to be captain of the team you and your best friend were on, only now he's left you? don't call me to tell me about your rookie season with the oilers--we both know about your broken collarbone. don't call me to tell about becoming the youngest captain in franchise history when i stepped into the shoes of your captaincy here. don't call me. (4)
narratively: dylan's the one who broke connor's heart and his own but by god it wasn't easy. we both know what happened, you went first overall. please don't make this harder on me. please don't call.
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this verse can be about the weight of dylan having to live up to connor's standards and always being measured by him. i would just like to bring up the connor stepping stone chart for absolutely no reason as well (5)
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we are, at long last, at the potential future of now: dylan strome, happy, smiling, thriving on the washington capitals. connor, on the oilers. i'm not yours, dylan can say. haven't been for a long time. it took some time but i made this. please don't call and ruin this for me, stay out of my life. i don't want you or need you (6)
[p.s. this took a while because when i received this ask i was a) immediately possessed to write this verse by verse breakdown i had never thought of before and then b) immediately plagued by the idea of making you a little graphic (above the read more) and finally got to do it after banging out all the actual lyric thoughts two (?) weeks ago. emerging two and a half hours later from the fugue state of GIMP with 37 layers in this bad boy hope you enjoy!!!]
#not me being like did i tell y'all about seeing bleachers? and then just proceeded to take it at face value like yeah i probably did#do i remember when or in what context absolutely not. maybe re: popstar jack? also very possible i was just. yapping.#anyway we're gonna put tag footnotes for other potential pairings &dynamics because otherwise this post looks frankly. unhinged. which it i#(1) because i am nothing if not a parody of myself i would like to provide an honorable mention to the death of the goon in this lyric.#when does time stop? when is it just you & your anger? who's the person you've divorced yourself from because you couldn't catch their fist#in case it was not clear this is also incredibly a trade narrative. did we pick that up? this is lovers to enemies. this is we were not goo#for each other and i don't regret that. parise suter fans rise up. the speaker in this case is the minnesota wild org.#(2) there is a note of nostalgia and longing here--when you were magic. i remember when you were a giant to me. i remember the hope#and possibilities. rip to sidney crosby the next one and golden boy of this generation but this is sung like a rookie to the vet they once#idolized. i was sold and maybe i shouldn't have bought it. maybe you tarnished over time. or in a softer light it is a comfort not a#criticism i bought tickets to the show. at your best you really were something and you made me believe i could be magic too. SORRY. dylan.#sorry. he'll come up again later. but every team has a golden boy don't they? do we know the cathal kelly bedard article where he talks abt#eating your prospects alive by building a narrative they can never live up to & promising them every year so that when they can it's a shoc#(3) three line devastation here my god. don't pretend you were kind golden boy! don't you dare tell anyone what you told me because then#they'd know too. the “coming out” narrative of it is discussed but while i don't love this it's the easiest example i have: jamie & trevor#have we heard jamie talk about trevor in a single interview? sometimes after a guy you loved gets traded you don't want the reminder.#it's even worse if he chooses to leave. claude giroux hater-era au arc where we don't talk about him. jt leaving the islanders dead to them#(4) while not a trade the other draft narrative we grew up together to enemies is of course zach and dylan. zach roaming around ann arbor#please also apply to subsequent usntdp team 100/101/102 narratives. alex turcotte i'm sorry they never speak your name you will hurt foreve#(5) to counter the rookie to the vet narrative of the golden boy this is fairly explicitly To Me a vet about his rookie who's supposed to b#the promised one the one who'll save them all. dallas is coming to mind here but not for any real reason. nail yakupov are you there.#taylor hall curse of the 1OA. pretty common also for guys to take in a kid when you're barely 26 yourself & haven't got ur shit figured out#so. dealing with a neurotic driven kid? yeah this is somebody who had a golden boy &fell out of favor. got traded. ty smith j'accuse style#(6) or in another story please don't call because i'll come right back#goodnight chicago the playoff handshake line. please don't call me. please don't call me.#HELLO BESTIE!!!! i think this is a wonderful song for Fic Purposes and could be applied well to SO many different narratives. i picked a#specific example but do feel the dynamic is very much what the song says: toxic ex and/or family/friend you don't need in your life. trades#seguin leaving boston etc etc. there IS an answer eluding me besides mcstrome though. not toxic enough. tk pat trade? OH TK PAT. or older#trade deadline tragedy
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Blood//water
Past =-= Next
Author's Note: More of Draco in Waters AU. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric. Thank you to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Arnault, Roland. Thank you to @egrets-not-regrets for letting me borrow Erriox and Lenora and your help with editing and other things :)
Summary: Draco gets pinned by several of the Astartes that had gone to rescue poor Claude. More conversations are had.
Warnings: Panic, Bond Denial, blood, yandere tendencies, let me know if I need to add anything.
Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,
Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams
Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog
His hands clench and unclench as his tail lashes out in wrath as he moves towards her. Or at least he would- except that Damned Iron Warrior and that Fucking Black Templar, among a couple of others is restraining him from moving much. 
“Stop kissing her!” He snarls at the Alpha legionaries, “She’s mine!”
Her distress is grating at his soul- as he desperately wants to comfort her. To hold her, to touch her, to comfort her. To press kisses to her, to murmur whispering words that will have her melt into his grasp and peer up at him trustingly.
The squad of Alpha legionaries don’t even acknowledge his words- don’t look at him, don’t twitch at his roar. They are wholly and completely focused on Lana- his Lana and not anyone or anything else. Trusting the other Space Marines- choosing to trust them to keep him in check and to watch out for other threats while they comfort, soothe and hold their Chosen Bonded.
Lana clings closer to each of her boys as they hold and murmur to her- their words- of what they want her to do. Accept the bond or die. A voice booms in her head. It’s not his voice, or the voice of her boys she’d chosen. How dare you reject this gift. 
Her nose is bleeding more and she coughs, blood splattering the armor of one of her boys again. The wounded noise he makes has her trying to nuzzle him, to calm him down. Accept and live. How they want her to live- to accept this wretched predator! 
She doesn’t want to do it! Your death will be painful and suffering great. Accept the bond. He’s a threat- a clearly dangerous one, she saw the mess he made of Poor sweet Claude- of the other Mer-ines that had come to rescue him- half of the Chaos ones, (whatever Chaos meant) were half dead by the claws of a single being. 
Lana is breathing- but it’s hard- heaving rapid breaths that are difficult to suck in air. Accept the bond! She glances at the Grey Knight as the boys called him, she’d heard the quiet terror, and shaking misery that the boys- especially cheerful, playful Jophiel had when he’d mumbled out his explanation of what a Gray Knight is, what they can do, as far as he and the other boys are aware and not-aware of.
“If,” She states raggedly, “If I… accept this Bond, there will need to be conditions put into place.”
The Gray Knight perks up at her words, as he watches her carefully. Since she had said “accept the Bond” even though it was more hypothetical, the agonizing pain had abated, and he can tell the relief that she gets as the blood stops freely flowing from her nose and her eyes are clearer and sharper. Howling, painful screeching and clanging in his head, hearts, and soul had abated at those words.
“What are your terms?” The Gray Knight asks, a note of hope in his voice.
Although it burns in his pride that she wants to set terms to this arrangement. Something hisses within him that says listen to her. And he shakes his head a little as he focuses on her voice- sweet and dulcet. He could, and he would curl around her and put his head in her lap and happily listen to her words for hours on end, speaking of everything and nothing.
She gasps, the relief she feels from saying ‘if I accept the bond’ had her lean her head against Zariel’s chest. Accept the Bond and live. She closes her eyes and is able to think, her panic and strong emotions starting to ebb, as does the complete and utter agony of her trying to Reject this unwanted Bond.
Lana licks her lips as she tries to think, what is best for her colony, her family, her cousins, winged and finned. For herself, she mumbles into Zariel’s chest, “I would like Mara or one of the other Gannet Harpy Elders here to help… negotiate terms with this one. They need to know about this dangerous predator and this… this Thing between me and him … can’t be broken, unless death is involved… If they say I need to go into exile for the good of the Colony because of him… I’ll go.”
“I’ll get Mara.” Lenora answered, taking off quickly to get the harpy elder. 
“Thank you, Lenora,” Lana says gratefully. She cuddles into Zariel’s arms- feeling relatively safe and cherished in his arms. The Gray Knight is growling again, which sets her feathers on edge- which stops with a hiss- as she cracks open an eye and sees Erriox spitefully stab the Gray Knight with another knife to get him to shut the fuck up.
Lana is grateful that it doesn’t take as much time to get Mara to where they’d found Claude and the Gray Knight. Lenora had explained the situation to Mara on the flight over, about them finding Claude- of the battle, and how, for now, it had mostly stopped due to the Gray Knight Intense Bonding to Lana. And how her initial Rejection had been actively killing her and him.
“Oh, my poor dear Lana,” Mara tutts as she flies over to fuss at her grand-niece and tut at her. The Alpha legionaries boys doing their best to tend to her as she eyes the large figure in silver and gold armor.
The way that he’s being held back by multiple mers- and how from the way he strains against them- and the way they are visibly using their strength to keep him in place, he’s very strong for his kind. Which isn’t always a good thing, what with him stealing poor Fledgling Claude, and the way he’d upset the rest of the Primaris Fledglings.
“You have harmed my Colony,” Mara says with a look towards the Gray Knight filled with disapproval and rage, “You stole a fledgling and while he was in your care harmed him greatly.”
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hiboudeluxe · 7 days ago
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Tagged in a WIP whatever thing by @atsadi-shenanigans
I guess we're supposed to make a poll but I ain't got time for that. I'm just posting a bit of a what if scenario for the Black Eagles run - there's a point in game where you fight the alliance. At the end you have to choice to either spare Claude and exile him OR execute him. This choice is interesting to me and the consequences of one of those decisions isn't explore in game.
If you execute Claude there are some questions about what would really happen post game if you execute him. Because he's not just the Sovereign Duke of the Alliance, he's also a Prince of Almyra, a country bordering fodlan who hasn't had great relations with them from the jump.
What would happen if Claude was executed by Edelgard and his father, the King of Almyra, found out? Claude's execution wouldn't be the neat, tidy solution it was meant to be for Edelgard, if we're being realistic. It would be an international incident that would spark off a greater war, an unmitigated disaster for her.
Anyway, I started to write a bit of it, as a treat! Snippet beneath the cut!
“If the words ‘your brother’ are combined with ‘taking you to safety’, I hope you like the taste of my fist,” she sing-songed, walking faster.
“Hilda! Hil… just… how in the Goddess’ name does someone so short walk so fast!??”
And then he had the unmitigated gall to reach out and stop her forward progress. He was so lucky she had even the smallest bit of impulse control, because anyone else would have made him eating a fist a reality. Instead, she shrugged him off and slapped at him as hard as she could. She mostly kept it to his arms and shoulders, rather than his face. As funny as it would be to do it, slapping him in the face would just lead to him whining like a great big baby. That just wasn’t funny, it was annoying and loud, and he’d go on and on about it for days. No one had time for that, least of all her.
The courtyard became a chorus of ‘YOU BIG JERK! HOW DARE YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON A LADY’ and ‘OW! OW!! HILDY STOP! OW!’, until Hilda finally tired herself out. They stood in front of each other, huffing and groaning, while the rest of the world went about its very busy business.
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silven-vi · 1 month ago
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Wont put main tags (only character tags) here so if you find this, prepare a shitty concept
When SS1 became stratosfear, both of their eyes were lost, causing them to scream in pain and agony. Their torse would also get torn apart (1/2) then became back to normal once they finally became stratosfear (just a scar)
Due to the blindness, Stratosfear could only hear the sounds of terror from all of the people getting klled, ofc they could sense everything was getting destroyed (but they couldnt do anything anyway)
[Next up is in AF2]
During defeating Celesteal, when it was Stratosfear's turn to use their power, their power was just..an illusion, but it caused them to pass out immediately while Celesteal slowly scream pain. This helps Stratosfear to get into the inside of Celesteal (my Celesteal design is different than the og)
Once they got in there, they found Claud, not Cyalm at all, just Claud himself. There was something part of Cyalm there but they dont exist anymore, now it was just Claud.
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(He wasnt dead yet, he was just eepy)
When Stratosfear stepped closer to Claud, Claud felt someone was next to him, when he opened his eyes and saw it was Stratosfear, his eyes widened in fear (no one really dared to nor known how to get into Celesteal's body)
(I wont describe a full detail here so Ill shorten it.) Stratosfear took one of Claud's body parts including an eyeball, only an eyeball (they dont seem to care about taking another eyeball) and made them as their own
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After taking the body parts that they need, they ended Claud without hesitation and slowly disappeared from Celesteal. Stratosfear finally woke up from passing out. They're new now, their eye is changed and they finally have something that were missing back.
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oh-great-authoress · 1 year ago
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Nadia Sings no. 4
Link to last week’s song
Today we have a modern musical theater classic: “On My Own” from the musical Les Miserables (music by Claude-Michel Schönberg, lyrics by Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel, based on the 1862 novel of the same name by Victor Hugo)
Life is apparently tiring when you’re catching up on two week’s worth of housework from when your parents were in the hospital, but I managed to figure out this week’s Nadia Sings.
(My dad thanks you all for your thoughts and prayers, he’s now been home for a week after receiving his lifesaving laparoscopic gallbladder surgery. He’s feeling almost completely normal, and is doing light work around the house.)
This song is one of my favorites, especially having grown up idolizing my fellow Filipino, Lea Salonga.
#pinoy pride
🇵🇭
I dare say I like it even more than “I Dreamed a Dream”.
And for those who know, before you say, “Wait a minute, it sounds weird,” I am not singing it in original key, because (and not to sound like such a soprano, I’m just really being honest here) the original key is too low for me.
Like, you-cannot-hear-the-low-notes low.
I tell you, it was such a strange experience hearing the introduction that high.
Once again, using my trusty recording studio (*cough*mydiningroom*cough*), and my favorite recording app, BandLab (not an advertisement, you guys know the drill 🤣), I put this together, and, as usual, while I put a little reverb effect on the backing track I used, as well as on my vocal track, this is otherwise as unadulterated a track as the one I posted last week, just my voice, with no pitch correction, recorded into my iPhone.
I hope you enjoy!!
(Headphones recommended to hear the reverb)
Tagging the same people I tagged last week, as well as those who enjoyed last week’s offering:
@welsharcher
@valmare
@batmantaking-hobbits2gallifrey
@justhereforfandomandfriends
@musewrangler
@oh-nostalgiia
@sakar-rad
@radical-sky
@randomfoggytiger
@agentfaust
@two-microscopes
@canmking
If you would like to be taken off the taglist, just send me a message, no hard feelings, and if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just interact with/reblog this post or send me an ask!
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flower-of-knighthood · 5 months ago
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You know it's really interesting how you refrained from reblogging my post, tagging me in this post or even putting your response in the same tag as my post, almost like you didn't want me to find your response. At the very least, you didn't follow in the footsteps of your compatriots like Flamingarc who hides their response to Tumblr posts on Twitter, an entirely different platform.
I never mentioned Rhea in my post at all, and other people such as Random have already covered Edelgard's opinions towards non humans in detail. But sure, go ahead and throw stones from your glass house.
The game literally says multiple times about how Almyra continuously invades Leicester's borders without reasonable cause and no, fun doesn't count as a valid reason to invade your neighbours. It's literally what the game says, covering your ears and having a tantrum about it won't change a thing.
Finally you actually address my actual argument with how you criticise my section on Sreng and I can kind of see the train of thought you're on despite the stretches you made which is unfortunate given how atrocious your argument is. Tell me, does the suffering of others mean nothing to you beyond your satisfaction? How dare you take a ongoing atrocity and use it for the sake of your satisfaction. Do you even care about the lives being lost or are the innocent lives lost and being lost just another thing to use for the satisfaction of your desires?
Here's a fun fact, Claude has only been in Fodlan for a year prior to the start of the game. I wouldn't expect anyone to be able to understand the deep problems of a nation well enough to suggest change after only a year in said nation, let alone the other two nations on the continent. Claude does question Lorenz's interpretation actually, https://houses.fedatamine.com/en-us/scenarios/230, that Lorenz's interpretation of the doctrine is just that, an interpretation of the doctrine. Sorry no, your interpretation doesn't hold up, as per usual because it isn't backed by evidence.
I don't recall being called out, so you'll have to provide me a link. I don't recall harassing anyone either as I know I haven't block evaded like Raxis or lead a harassment campaign to the point users left Tumblr like what was done to Moonlitboar, which I recall Raxis saying was deserved. So, go ahead and keep projecting your sins upon me, all the while throwing stones from your glass house.
Why on earth do you keep bringing up Edelgard supposedly being a queer icon, no one has ever said anything that would actually begin to warrant you bringing it up. Are you seriously trying to escape responsibility by playing the victim here? Sorry to break your delusion but deconstructing an argument does not count as harassment of queer people. The LGBT Community already has enough problems as it is from the Right Wing without you taking the struggles of real people and use it as a get out of jail free card from responsibility. Tell me, does the suffering of others mean nothing to you beyond your satisfaction?
I posted it under Edelgard Discourse, because you and your fellow Edelgard Apologists like to use it as an argument, treating it as a complete certainty that the Church of Seiros as a whole spreads xenophobia in it's doctrine.
In conclusion, most of your response is a deranged rant about things I didn't even mention in my post, and the one section that actually addresses my argument is so morally atrocious, you should be ashamed. I will repeat this for the final time, Tell me, does the suffering of others mean nothing to you beyond your satisfaction?
Damn, thats racist
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The title says it all. Like damn, why is it that Edelcrits always cry about how she's such a racist when she tries to dethrone the whiter than white people immortal dragon demigods in power of her entire land but when its about the actual themes of racism in the game, they're all about "ackchually, the browns and the blacks are the real racists". His entire Sreng argument also has some rather...uncomfortable...implications, considering the entire Israel situation and like...Israel using exactly the same argument to justify settlements and genocide and all...
But I mean, this is also the guy who gets triggered over getting called out for he basically makes his entire fandom identity obsessing over a queer character and harassing her to a large extent queer fans, lol.
But we can also always trust a M'lady themed account to question the experiences of a mixed race character with racism, when his whole character is all about how due to being mixed-race, he experienced racism wherever he went to. And the faerghian branch being even more racist than the central church isn't exactly the argument people think it is. Later on, in chapter 6, we see this xenophobia in the church as well, with Dedue being immediately suspected for Flayns kidnapping because he's from Duscur. Later on Lorenz confirms xenophobic teaching by the church of seiros, contrary to popular believes, Claude never debunks that. He goes "But does it...?" to talk himself out of having to explain why he knows an almyran General, while in Hopes he is much more forward about this actually being true in his support with Dimitri, something he never debunks or argues against.
Also why the fuck is this troll posting this under Edelgard discourse, when the entire topic has nothing to do with Edelgard? He does make remarks about wanting to improve relations with foreign regions, but the churches xenophobia is predominantly Claudes plot point, so its obvious this guy just wants to stirr up drama for me personally.
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sweet-marigolds · 5 years ago
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Edelclaude edits
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star-of-elarion · 3 years ago
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aliensunflower-fics · 5 years ago
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Marinette Changes Schools: A funny little Lila salt prompt
So, there are a lot of ‘Marinette changes schools’ au’s and I love a whole bunch of them don't get me wrong. BUT the one thing I haven’t seen yet is Marinette changing schools not because of Lila or salt but simply because her parents are moving and they want her to attend a school close to home. So without further ado let me sell you on my little idea: 
Lila has been plotting weeks worth of plans and lies, she’s thought up some sob stories about being stalked, about near death experiences, about celebrities that are like her family. She has plans for Marinette all the ways she could make the girl look bad and all the ways she could force Adrien to see her. That all goes out the window one day when she gets to school and it's a sob fest. There is a clear air of dread and dismay, the blue skies she saw on the way to school replaced with heavy storm clouds. And when she gets to class it's worse. Marinette and Alya are hugging and crying, Adrien looks like he's been shot, Nino and Kim are demanding to know ‘why’ even Chloe looks upset, her blue eyes a little glassy. Lila quickly learns why, Marinette’s parents' business is doing GREAT so great in fact that they have decided to open a second location! The twist? They also decided to move INTO the new location and with it being on the other side of Paris and her parents fears for their daughters safety that means Marinette is moving to a new school!
Now Lila doesn’t even have to school her face into a practiced expression of shock. She genuinely is shocked here she’d been planning months in advance picturing the ways she would destroy her rivals life and steal her friends! And now just like that Marinette is MOVING? Of course Lila quickly decides this is a good thing! After all if Marinette is out of the picture ruling the school will be that much easier. Sure Chloe might be queen bee but with Marinette gone people will be looking to replace her! In walks Lila Rossi, a gorgeous upstart model with a heart of gold and connections coming out of her bangs! She’d rule the school and Adrien would fall for her, then Marinette would probably come crawling back desperate for her old friends only to learn she’d snatched them all up! It was brilliant! And with Marinette gone she could probably do it in record time! So Lila covers up her smirk and says she’s devastated to hear that the twin tailed girl would be leaving and begins plotting.
In the month that follows Lila leaves Marinette alone letting her have her friends for what would be for the last time. After all if everyone still loved the designer when she left they’d be all the more eager to replace her with a new and better version. Of course just because Lila is playing nice doesn’t mean she enjoys it. Alya is practically glued to the girl and ignores Lila even when she’s not trying to sabotage Marinette. Adrien is acting like his life is ending and all anyone will talk about is Marinette. When she checks social media it's all just pictures of ‘old-great times with Marinette’ or new photos and videos of helping the girl pack up and move into her new room, which Lila seethes about for a week when she sees the photos of the spacious luxurious room with a private bath. Apparently the Dupain-Cheng’s new bakery was in a pretty ritzy rich neighborhood. During school Marinette is mobbed by a constant stream of people begging her to stay and when they accept that not happening they all at least beg her to ‘come back and visit’ Marinette promises and Lila has to hide her snort. Fat chance of that actually happening. 
Finally the last day arrives and Lila has to hold back the urge to gag as everyone fills the nearby park giving Marinette gifts and heartfelt goodbyes. Adrien is the last one to offer his gift and Lila seethes as Marinette gingerly opens the box with a gasp and pulls out two brand new pink hair ribbons, and Adrien goes on to say that they’re made of imported silk! SILK, as if the little baker brat deserved silk! The whole exchange is cliche and romantic as Marinette removes her current hair ribbons to tie in the new ones and Adrien ties the old ones around his wrist like some idiot who doesn’t realize what a love struck longing look he's giving his ‘good friend’. But Lila just keeps reminding herself its just a bit longer and sure enough not long after the hideously gooey exchange between Adrien and Marinette is over the designer is leaving with more tears and farewells. FINALLY Lila thinks she can get back to what matters! Ruling her empire.
As it turns out ruling her empire is not what she thinks. For the first month after Marinette leaves all anyone will talk about is the photos she’s posted online. The first week its ALL about HER new school is a private well known academy with uniforms, and isn't Marinette cute in it? And look at her in her custom black kitty thigh highs? Lila wants to scream, but not as much as when she catches Adrien drooling over the photo of said thigh highs and twirling the old nasty hair ribbons around his wrist. The second week its all about the video tour of her new home and school that Marinette sent Alya. Lila glares the whole time as Alya puts the video on the projector at lunch so everyone can see the big new gorgeous bakery and the beautiful house on the second floor and her stupid big bedroom that should belong to someone like herself and not some bratty bakers daughter! By the third week Lila has had enough and fakes some nasty texts from Marinette hoping to speed up the process of helping her classmates move on to HERSELF. It backfires spectacularly with Alya going on the warpath to learn who would dare frame Marinette now that she’s gone. Lila is starting to realize that somehow Marinette has reached a higher level of popularity now that she’s gone. But she reminds herself it won't last forever that in ‘just a little bit longer’ everyone will forget the baker. Right?
A little bit longer. Never happens. Lila asks the girls to hang out that weekend with plans of winning them over with some juicy celeb story? Alya says they all already made plans to hope aboard the train to spend the whole weekend at Marinette’s new place! Lila tries to corner Adrien into a date after a photo shoot. He disappears and all she hears from the workers on set is that he's been looking up some new bakery on the other side of town. [Marinette is suddenly being visited by Chat Noir every other night but she figures she must have moved closer to where his civilian self lives if hes dropping by so much.] She tries to throw a party for the class? They can't. Marinette will be coming out to the park today! With her new school friends!
AH HA! Lila see’s opportunity and decides to tag along. After all if Marinette has new friends Lila can twist it! She’ll whisper about her replacing them all! Make them hate Marinette’s new friends! Fill them with jealousy till they hate Marinette! It's BRILLIANT! And, it fails in less than two minutes, with Alya learning about Aurore being a ballet dancer and the two girls bonding over their mutual love of DANCE?? How the heck was Lila supposed to know Alya had been a champion ballet dancer in her younger years! Then Nino is bonding with some kid named Allen or whatever about classical vs modern music and how to blend the two! And some kid named Claude is joking with Kim, Max, and Alix! And this is definitely not how things were supposed to go!
The worst part is Adrien, who is passive aggressively fighting for Marinette against Kagami AND Felix who are both all too eager to show how ‘close’ they’ve gotten to the baker's daughter while Adrien’s been across the city. Kagami is all to happy to show off that she ALSO bought Marinette some new silk hair ribbons [in a red shade that happens to match her fencing uniform] while Felix eagerly wisks Marinette away the moment Kagami and Adrien are distracted the two fencers find him openly flirting with an oblivious Marinette her hair down because ‘oh felix was nice enough to help me get some leaves out of my hair and said i should leave it like this!’ [while both Kagami and Adrien agree she looks beyond cute they know this means war.] Needless to say Lila didn’t realize that Marinette was that damn popular with men and woman.
The week after the meet up Lila is worn so thin she’s ready to snap. Not only did the class not get jealous but they actually became FRIENDS with all of Marinette’s new buddies and were planning many more meet ups including a paintball war over the baker girl that saturday. Adrien had taken to openly mumbling to himself about changing schools and how he ‘cant believe’ his own flesh and blood would so openly flirt with HIS very good friend! And what was with Kagami showing off how easily she can pick up and carry Marinette? And why did she invite Marinette to watch their next tournament! He needed to train, what if he lost?? In front of Marinette?! And then she thought he was too weak to keep her safe like all good friends are supposed to do! Clearly Kagami was trying to replace him as Marinette’s very good friend! Poor Nino who was sitting next to the boy had actually volunteered to switch with Lila but she came up with a lie to avoid it, she’d had enough of hearing about Marinette from Alya and Juleka and the rest of the girls, she didn’t also need to hear it from Adrien! 
It all comes to a head that Saturday during the paintball tournament when Lila now at her wits end her plans out the window her schemes barely thought out hopes to find something ANYTHING to ruin Marinette’s day and reputation and everything. But Lila just so happens to get completely pelted with paintballs everytime she so much as moves and then later gets ignored when trying to wow Marinette’s new friends, and then gets called out by Felix and Kagami snaps and finally she snaps and SCREAMS and runs off and not even a dark little butterfly comes to help her ruin the perfect day. As it turns out Hawkmoth was a little preoccupied with trying to save his business after all the computers and data involved in his precise scheduling were mysteriously corrupted suddenly freeing up his son's time and schedule so he could spend more with HIS very good friend and no one else's. Kagami and Felix apparently had the same idea as when he gets to her new house their already their doing their best to get on her parents good side.
Basically just give me some comedic, fluffy, Lila salty, Marinette changes school fics. Because I love them ok.
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aspiring-creative-person · 1 year ago
Text
Confirmed Bachelor
Description:
Bertie thinks it’ll be a great idea to get caught kissing a man in order to repel the ladies. Maybe it’s not such a good idea.
5,442 words
Tags:
Bertram Wooster/Reginald Jeeves, Bertram Wooster and Bingo Little, Bertram Wooster, Reginald Jeeves, Bertie Wooster, Jooster, first kiss, period typical homophobia, Bingo is a good friend, Aunt Agatha, Claude Wooster, Rosie M. Banks (mentioned), confirmed bachelors, they’re in love your honor, fake relationship if you squint, pre-relationship, getting together
Author’s note:
My first work for this fandom, I have lots of other ideas I want to write and I might do so but who knows when those’ll come out 🤷‍♀️ I’m extremely proud of this anyway, I think it’s a banger, but you be the judge. Possibly the longest fanfic I’ve actually completed, so three cheers to that! Alright thanks for listening to my ramblings, hope you enjoy!
(Story under the cut)
Bertie sighed gruelingly in his armchair, causing Jeeves to raise an eyebrow a hair.
“Might I inquire what is on your mind, sir?” He asked as he poured a b. and s. for his y.m.
Wooster glanced up. “Hm? Oh, it’s nothing in particular, old chap. It’s just— well, it’s all so exhausting, isn’t it? Every other week somebody has me galavanting about doing their dirty work— now maybe I wouldn’t mind if it were smaller jobs here and there, or even if it was less at my expense, but the real soup as it were are all the women I must avoid!” And he added a “Thank you,” as Jeeves handed him his beverage. “I just wish there was some way for me to avoid the affections of women altogether!”
He took a sip. “Perhaps if I intentionally made an utter arse of myself, people would leave me alone, and no woman would dare approach me!”
Jeeves looked skeptical, and Wooster glowered at his drink. “No, you’re right, I don’t want to go losing friends and ruining my reputation too badly, now.”
Jeeves coughed intentionally, which perked Wooster’s interest.
“Oh? Do you have something, Jeeves?”
“The thought occurs, there is such a thing as a confirmed bachelor, sir. If you could convince the right people that you are of this status, word would get around and you would be free of troubles with the ladies, at least.” As he said this, he looked decidedly not at Wooster, clearly resigned to stay properly aloof despite what he was suggesting.
Bertie choked on his drink. “Confirmed bachelor? But I’m not— I’ve never been interested in men—“
Jeeves gave the facial expression equivalent of a shrug and said “Well sir, in a sense, is the status of the title not something you desire?”
Wooster’s eyebrows were fully raised at this point. “N-no! Talk about a stain on my reputation! Heavens to Betsy. No, I will not tolerate this suggestion.”
Jeeves lowered his gaze. “Very good sir.” He held out the tray for Wooster’s empty glass. “Will that be all, sir?”
Wooster nodded, but as his Valet retreated, he couldn’t help but feel he hurt his feelings somehow.
*******
They had just gotten back from a long week of running around solving other people’s problems and narrowly avoiding, this time, a record of four unwanted engagements— just counting those involving Bertie alone!
By the time they returned home, it was well past midnight, and the y.m. was positively at death’s door.
Jeeves helped him disrobe with somehow greater care than normal, something Bertie hadn’t thought possible. He seemed almost motherly.
As Bertie slumped into bed finally, all he could manage was “Maybe ‘Confirmed Bachelor’ doesn’t sound so bad after all,” before he was out like a light.
Jeeves carefully placed the covers over Bertie and tidied the room before taking his exit.
*****
A few mornings later, as the young master was having his cup of tea, he leapt to his feet excitedly. “I’ve got it!”
“Sir?”
Bertie began pacing. “I think you’re right, that the only way to put off women as it were is for them to think I’m confirmed bachelor. Well, and how does one go about doing that? I mean, I’d really have to convince them!” He turned to Jeeves, grinning, and continued, “Well, wouldn’t it be oh so unfortunate for someone to catch me kissing a man?”
Jeeves’ eyes widened slightly, barely anything to a passerby, but on Jeeves it portrayed utter shock. “Is that not risky, sir?”
Wooster deflated slightly. “Well yes. I’m willing to do it because it’s better than unwantingly getting hitched, as it were. But the real trouble is finding a man who is willing to help me!” He slumped in his chair. “I could possibly find someone at the Drones Club, but I don’t know. Even if I found someone willing to risk his rep. for me, I’m not sure who I could trust with a scheme like this. If it got out I would never hear the e. of it.”
There was silence as they both considered this information.
“Of course, perhaps I could find a real confirmed bachelor, now that would provide some, uh- whatchamacallit to the rumor.” He looked rather pleased with himself at all that.
Jeeves seemed to consider this, something slightly sour creeping into his expression.
Bertie caught wind of this immediately. “Oh, what is it now?”
“Well, sir, where would you find one? And where would you find one willing? And then the question, were you to find one willing, would you be willing to have strings attached to that community? Sir.”
Wooster blinked at him a couple of times, then looked back at his tea in concentration. “Well, those would be the questions, eh Jeeves?”
They both pondered the situation.
“You wouldn’t happen to know any of them, would you, Jeeves?”
“..No sir.”
“Hm.”
After a stretch of silence, Wooster pipped right up and said, “Alright, I must get on to the Drones. Perhaps I might suss out someone there to help my predicament.”
Jeeves helped him change as usual, and the young master was off.
*******
Several hours later, Bertie returned, mood low.
“Good evening, sir. Shall I run your bath?”
“Yes, thank you Jeeves.”
As the Valet went about his duties, Wooster rambled about his bad luck.
“Well, half the men I engaged were fully lovestruck with new birds. I could hardly get them to talk about anything else. And the other half, well, to put it short, weren’t men for the job!”
“Sorry to hear that, sir.”
“So that leaves no one else!”
“No one, sir?”
Wooster looked startled at Jeeves, almost as if he just remembered he was there. “Well, I couldn’t very well ask you to do it. It’s not in your job description, what?”
“Indeed, sir.” The way he said it indicated that he full heartedly agreed.
******
A few months had passed with usual shenanigans, and they were in the soup again. They were strolling in a familiar hedge maze at night, Jeeves and Wooster, that is, trying to escape the grip of friends, family, and prospects.
The young master was positively agitated.
“Oh, dash it all!”
“Indeed, sir.”
Bertie gave Jeeves a second take, then started laughing. It seemed Jeeves couldn’t help a twitch of his lips.
“I mean, Jeeves, my fate is one thing. But I hadn’t realized that you also so avoided the affections of women.”
“It has been largely easier for me, sir.”
Wooster hummed. “Not sure why. Anyone— any woman, that is— who interacts with you should by rights be swooning immediately.”
“Indeed sir?” Genuine surprise.
“Well, yes! Your intention and intelligence are quite clear from the get-go, and of course it helps to be easy on the eyes.”
Jeeves glanced away for a moment, seeming unsure about something. “Thank you for saying so, sir.”
Wooster took a pause to puff on a cigarette.
“You know,” he said, taking another puff, “perhaps tonight would be the night to pull off that scheme. Perhaps we could simply start a rumor about my status, as it were. Of course it would be easier if I were caught in the act, but say we—“
“Oh Bertie!”
The not-so-distant call rooted the men to the spot, color practically draining out of Wooster’s face.
“Reggie!”
It was Jeeves’ turn to pale.
“Sir, perhaps now would be the time to—“
“Agreed.”
It is time to interlude and say, that they were decidedly not on the same page. What Wooster thought was, “It’s time to make our escape.” What Jeeves thought was, “It’s time to pull off a scheme.”
So before Wooster could much react, Jeeves had pulled him in and mashed their faces together, somewhat unpleasantly at that. Bertie froze in confusion for a moment, but after Jeeves still held position, he finally caught on.
Wooster couldn’t help but smile to himself, despite the circumstances. With how delicate and intentional Jeeves was with everything else, one would think he would approach kissing the same way. But he merely stood there, not seeming to know what to do.
Wooster backed enough to say “Follow my lead,” before clutching Jeeves’ face and beginning to move his lips in a more pleasant way. Jeeves copied, hesitantly.
Not good enough.
Bertie manipulated his partner’s hands to be clutching at his back and waist, which inadvertently brought them closer together, and this made Bertie have to tilt his head up slightly more for better access. The position was surprisingly not an unpleasant one, and Wooster actually began to enjoy himself a little as he registered the warmth and strength that radiated from the other body. He began to elevate the kiss a little, for show and all that, by running his hands all over Jeeves’ hair, neck, and shoulders, and opening his mouth a little more.
Because if a Wooster did anything properly, it was committing to the bit. And by Jove, was he committed. Definitely no turning back now.
Jeeves seemed to pick up on the technique a little by now, enough to sweep his tongue along Bertie’s. Now that was unexpected, and the y.m. gasped at the action (or as much as one could gasp while kissing his gentleman’s gentleman). Something at that switched off his brain, and from there he acted on pure instinct.
The kiss became more heated, Bertie pressing and Reggie pressing back, the noise of adrenaline rushing through Wooster’s head, and it was jarring when Jeeves abruptly pulled back and stepped away.
Wooster was left dazed. His first feeling was loss, then utter terror as he heard, “Bertie?”
It was a feminine voice, rather down the path.
Bertie turned and sputtered, genuinely. “It— it’s not what it looks like—“ He found he was really trying to defend himself, forgetting the scheme altogether.
He realized there were actually two women down the path, doubtless their respective suitors. They both ran off, yelling invigorated exclamations. At this point, Wooster couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or horror. Perhaps a mix of both.
“Well, that was—“ he turned to look at Jeeves, and for one of the rare instances in his life became at a loss for words. The man was flush, hair ruffled, lips puffy from being kissed— just the complete antithesis of his normal groomed self. Wooster couldn’t help but drink in the sight. “Unexpected,” he finished the sentence.
Jeeves’ attention snapped to Wooster’s face. “Sir?”
Wooster coughed, not really knowing what to say. “Well, um. Well, well. Rather, well. I thought you meant we should run when you said—“
Jeeves all but gasped as he said “Sir!” He began to pale. He stepped back, giving Wooster as much space as possible.
“What? Oh Jeeves my man, put that out of your head. I merely meant that I never could have asked that of you. I didn’t mean to pressure you into it!” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “No, it’s quite alright. With luck, this will play out how we always wanted, what?” He noticed his cigarette on the ground, so he stamped it out.
Jeeves slowly relaxed, nodded. “Yes, sir.” It seemed all he could say at the moment, even if it was his normal response. He looked rather lost, and Bertie couldn’t help but be fond of him.
“First kiss, was it Jeeves?”
Jeeves lifted an eyebrow and said sheepishly, “Yes, sir.”
“Oh bugger, and I’ve stolen it from you! I’m so sorry, Jeeves.”
“No need, sir.”
“No— no need?” Wooster did a double take. “Of course there’s a need! Your first kiss was with a man!” His voice went up at that last word.
Jeeves seemed to consider something before saying, “If you don’t mind my saying so sir, the quality was… what counts. Overall a pleasant experience… on my end. Despite the circumstances. —Sir.”
Wooster was quite taken aback. “Oh. Oh! Well, thank you for saying so!” He was practically beaming now. “If I’m being honest, much the same on my end as— as well.”
He again took in Jeeves’ disheveled look, and again was struck with an inexplicable fondness.
“Here, you’re all… whatsit,” he said, smoothing down Jeeves’ hair and straightening his suit. The Valet seemed entranced by these actions.
“As are you, sir,” he said after a moment, mirroring Wooster’s actions.
Once they were satisfied with each others’ appearances— plausible deniability and all that— they nodded at each other and turned to face the hell that awaited them.
“Right-oh!” Said Wooster, probably with more confidence than he felt.
“Very good, sir,” Jeeves echoed.
And they began the dreaded walk.
*****
The next morning, all Bertie knew was that his head was splitting like a log and that it was too bright. The next thing he knew was that he was in his own bed, by some miracle.
Jeeves must have heard some stirring, as he materialized with a tray.
He poured a glass of water and handed it to the young master. “Good morning, sir.”
Wooster could only mumble a response, barely managing to take the glass without spilling it. He held it up to his chest, eyes falling closed again.
“Quite a night, sir.”
Another mumble. There was more clattering and pouring and rustling, then something cold and wet was pressed to Wooster’s forehead. He gave a start, which spilled some of the water in his hands.
Jeeves backed off slightly, and Bertie saw a damp cloth in his hand. “Oh. Carry on.”
Jeeves returned to his business. “Best drink some of that water, sir, before it spills again,” he said almost kindly.
Wooster gave a “hmrph” in response and sat up slightly to do so. He now realized how much his whole body ached.
After downing the glass in one gulp, cringing, and laying back down, he said, “Jeeves, remind me of what happened last night?”
“Well, sir, we preceded with the bachelor scheme and were caught by the two young ladies. When we returned to the group, Lady Agatha was enraged, and the two of you argued for quite some time. I believe the key points were when she threatened to cut you out of the family if you did not find a wife, and you exclaimed that you would rather have” he coughed “me than any woman, at which point young Gertrude Rodrickson burst into tears, and your cousin launched an attack on you.”
“Oh,” said Wooster sourly as memories came flooding back.
“Yes, sir. I regret to say that the result of the tussle was a passed out young master, but—“ he cut short, seeming to lose the words.
Bertie looked up in concern. “But? But what Jeeves, what happened next?”
Claude kept kicking Bertie, even as he was down. The young master was passed out, unable to respond, body rippling with each attack.
Jeeves pried the man off, nearly throwing him with the force. “Contain yourself, sir,” he said sternly. It took all his willpower to only do that much.
He bent down and examined the damage. Bertie was knocked out solid, with a little blood trickling where he had hit his forehead, and a black eye. But it didn’t seem anything too serious. His pulse and breathing were stable. Jeeves felt a mix of relief and worry.
He stood to address the room. All eyes were on him.
“Mr. Jeeves, what is the meaning of all this?” Aunt Agatha snarled.
“I believed it to be evident that Mr. Wooster does not desire to be married, my lady.”
Her eyes bulged in shock. “This is crossing the line even for Bertie,” she said, “but you, Jeeves? What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Only that his interests align with mine. It is a dreary time for a gentleman’s personal gentleman when he is replaced by a wife, after having found a compatible master.”
Lady Agatha had been approaching during his response. Now, she slapped him. “Selfish!” She spat in his face. “Disgraceful!” She raised her cane to strike, which Jeeves caught on the downswing.
“I will not tolerate abuse, my lady,” he said coldly. He released her cane, and she backed up, eyes still wide.
Jeeves had to think quick on his feet.
“My lady, Mr. Wooster has always done his best to be a good nephew.” He turned to the cousins. “And a good friend.” He turned to the women. “And a good man. His loyalties are so toward all of you. He can not turn down a loved one who needs his help, much to his detriment. But the thought of marriage for himself distresses him. You could, my lady, very well one day impose the thing upon him, in which he would be miserable for the rest of his days. Misery builds resentment, and these are not suitable in a husband, or nephew, or friend. His current living situation is his prime, and so perhaps it would be best for said situation to remain as it is, and he would be ever so glad to continue his loyalties to you all.”
Claude again was angry. “That is a bold ask from an impudent valet who was embracing my cousin!”
Jeeves tried to recover the situation. “I regret to say that this is the proof of the pudding, forgive the phrase. We arranged to be caught in this compromising position so as to dissuade the ladies from him, sir.”
Claude sat down in shock. “My God.”
Lady Agatha was staring knives at him. “I think you’d better leave while you still have a head on your shoulders.”
Jeeves nodded. “Thank you, my lady.”
Presently, Jeeves continued with a pained expression on his face. “I had to pry them off you, sir, even when you were already down. I was able to talk around the situation enough for us to make our escape, but I doubt we would have been safe should we have lingered.”
Bertie’s face fell. “Oh.”
Jeeves continued tending to his head, and after a few moments of sitting with the information, Bertie’s eyes began to sparkle with tears.
“Sir,” Jeeves breathed, placing his hand on the y.m.’s forearm.
Bertie didn’t even try to stop the tears as they fell. “I say! One would hope for one’s family to be a little more caring, don’t you know?” He tried to put on a smile, but with a red, wet face, the image was heartbreaking.
Jeeves carefully brushed away the tears with the cloth. “There are some things which certain parts of society just cannot seem to accept, sir,” he offered sadly.
They locked eyes.
“Oh Jeeves!” Bertie lurched forward and collapsed in his man’s arms. “What are we going to do? I’m sure to be cut out, and I should think your club would throw you out for aiding me in this.”
Jeeves stiffened at this. “..Those were always possibilities, sir.”
Bertie backed off slightly to look at his valet in confusion. “Not for you! I never meant to drag you into it!”
Jeeves looked resolved. “What’s done is done, sir. If you recall, sir, I was the one who.. *ahem* initiated the scheme. You are not at fault.”
Bertie did not seem comforted by this information. “Well, however it happened, we are quite possibly further in the soup than we can manage, this time.” He slumped back into his pillows with an air of finality.
Jeeves stood and gathered his things onto the tray. “Tea, sir?”
“Please.”
When Jeeves returned and handed him his tea, Bertie’s eyes began to water again.
“I really don’t know what I would do without you, Jeeves. Perhaps we could go off somewhere. We could move to America. I hear they have some more accepting circles if you know where to look.”
Jeeves took pause at this, lifting an eyebrow. “More accepting, sir?”
Bertie looked up from his tea. “You know. Confirmed bachelors, Jeeves. The whole reason we’re in this mess.”
“It is my impression that the people of America would not know of our situation, sir.”
Bertie looked back at his tea. He seemed suddenly nervous. “Ah. Yes, well, that would be ideal, wouldn’t it?” His eyes flicked to Jeeves’ face before returning to the tea.
He really was an open book. There was clearly something more bothering him.
After a moment, Jeeves took a risk. “Unless you mean, of course, that that would be our status, sir?”
Bertie seemed to shrink into himself. “Possib— did you say our status?” He looked up again, this time out of a sudden need to understand rather than a fear of being understood.
“That is to say, sir, continuing with our scheme in America to dissuade the ladies as we had planned.” Jeeves said smoothly.
“Bollocks.”
“Sir?”
“Malarkey. Balderdash! I know that look on you, Jeeves, and that’s the look you get when you’re talking effortlessly around a sticky situation. You did mean our status!”
Jeeves was taken aback, blinking in surprise. “Sir—“ But he was cut off, for which he was grateful, for he did not seem to know how he would finish that thought.
“Jeeves, I feel it is time we must be straight with each other. I mean abso-lutely solid. This situation is all or nothing, I believe, so it must all be laid out plainly.”
Jeeves looked a little shaken. “As you wish, sir—“
“So Jeeves, there’s something that I must tell you.”
Jeeves wasn’t quite expecting that. “Sir?”
Bertie seemed determined this time. He had set his teeth into the thing and he would not let go. A Wooster through and through.
He set his tea on the side table.
“I think I really must be an invert. With how uncomfortable I am with the thought of marriage, and all that. And—“ here he faltered a little. It seemed like he almost wouldn’t continue the thought, but he pushed through, as he had promised. “And I think I must love you. More than a good employee. More than a friend. And if I’m being entirely honest, the kiss we shared… left me wanting more.”
The more he got through the confession, the more he seemed to putter out, until he was shaking by the end. Jeeves’ heart melted.
“Sir—“ he placed a hopefully comforting hand on his shoulder. “Bertie.” Their eyes met once more, and this time Bertie saw the shining tears in Jeeves’ eyes. It was Bertie’s turn to clutch onto Jeeves’ forearms.
“I must confess the same sin, si—Bertie. I also find myself desiring your embrace.”
Bertie smiled finally, eyes shining. “Oh—“ he could hardly finish the thought, as they rushed forward together into a passionate kiss.
This time, Jeeves’ hand found its way to the nape of Bertie’s neck, tickling his hair there. Bertie’s arms were wrapped around Jeeves’ shoulder and side, and Jeeves’ other hand was on Bertie’s thigh. Jeeves repeated last kiss by sweeping his tongue inside Bertie’s mouth, and Bertie did not hold back a moan. This encouraged Jeeves forward, and pretty soon we was quite on top of Bertie, something neither of them seemed averse to.
Eventually, they had to break for air.
“How—“ Bertie panted— “how did you— get so good— at kissing— between last night— and this morning?”
Jeeves, too, was panting. As before, his face was flushed, his hair tousled, and his lips puffy. “I couldn’t say— darling.” He pecked Bertie on his plush lips.
Bertie’s pupils dilated at that, and he gently manhandled Jeeves until their positions were flipped. “Say that again.”
Jeeves smirked, though in his state, it didn’t look quite as smug as it could have. “Darling?”
Bertie plunged into another kiss. This time he took charge, and now Jeeves was the one holding back moans. Apparently he liked being manhandled. And apparently Bertie was a romantic after all.
Bertie now broke off to pepper his face with little kisses. Jeeves sighed contentedly.
They continued this for quite some minutes, tea forgotten, until they had calmed down and now lay side by side, staring into each other’s’ eyes.
“Maybe we really should move to America,” Bertie said eventually.
Jeeves hummed in thought. “The last time we were there, I actually did manage to find those more accepting circles you mentioned, sir— er, dear.”
Bertie looked surprised. “Really! When was that?”
“Yes, dear, I did have quite some liberties when I was gathering notes for your friend’s aunt, if you remember.”
“Oh yes, I see. So you were um.. active at these circles, were you, Jeeves?”
“Enough to establish myself, sir.”
“Well! That’s some good luck.”
“Yes, dear.”
There were some beats of silence.
“Jeeves?”
“Yes?”
“Perhaps we ought to leave as soon as possible.”
Jeeves frowned, but nodded. “I think you’re right.” He gave Bertie a peck on the lips before sitting up and leaving to get a suitcase. Bertie also sat up, thought about finishing his tea, found it cold, and set it aside again.
“When is the soonest available ship to America, Jeeves?”
“I believe in two days, dear, though I could be mistaken. Perhaps one of us could pack while the other secures the tickets.”
Bertie nodded. “Right-oh. Why don’t you go ahead and pack, and I’ll do the other thing. Ah but I’ll need to get breakfast and then dressed, of course.”
They went about their usual morning routine, with Jeeves preparing breakfast and Bertie reading the paper. Of course, Jeeves also prepared another tea, having noticed the cold one on the dresser. Bertie smiled at this.
This time, they ate breakfast at the table together. Not like they hadn’t before, but this time was different, of course.
They dressed Bertie in full glory, and then the y.m. biffed off to run his errand.
********
“Bertie!”
Bertie froze. He really didn’t think he could handle being recognized in public at a time like this.
He turned, however, to find Bingo grinning back at him and waving. He tried to return a smile. “What-oh, Bingo! How are you, old chap?”
Bingo joined him in line. “Oh, you know! The wife and I are expecting! We’ll have a son or daughter— oh it’ll be marvelous, Bertie!” He slung an arm over Bertie’s shoulder warmly.
Bertie couldn’t help but be happy for him. “Oh, that’s wonderful! You’ll make an excellent father.” The smile now reached his eyes.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were meant to be visiting your old Aunt Agatha until next week?”
A pit formed in Bertie’s stomach. There it was. “Ah. Yes, well. Rather. We had to leave. And now we’re, well, leaving.”
Bingo frowned in confusion. “Oh? And where are you off to then? Got called away somewhere?”
Bertie began to fiddle with his sleeves. He didn’t want to give away anything, but he didn’t want to lie to one of his best friends since school. “Well…”
Bingo looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. Well, perhaps he could speak his language.
“Oh, alright. It’s like this, but don’t ask too many details, what? We’re running away for love, and rather that’s why we had to leave early. Right away, in fact. I’d rather not like to have anyone know where we’re going.”
Bingo’s eyes lit up, as Bertie suspected they would. “Oh, Bertie! In love at last!” He spun Bertie around. “She must be quite a woman! What’s she like?”
“Uh… well… h-she’s very… delicate, perhaps. But also strong. And she’s the most intelligent person I’ve ever met.”
Bingo looked surprised. “More intelligent than Jeeves? That is quite a feat!”
Bertie chuckled nervously. “Right, yes. Oh, Bingo! What brings you here?”
Bingo grinned. “Ah! Rosie and I are going to France for another honeymoon while it’s still just the two of us. The lights of Parí, the lovely pastries, and a kiss under the Eiffel Tower! It’s going to be marvelous, Bertie!”
Bertie smiled warmly. “I sure am going to miss you, Bingo.”
Bingo looked suddenly concerned, now. “Miss me? But Bertie, you aren’t going to just disappear off the face of the earth? Surely you’ll visit?”
Bertie’s smile turned sad.
“Oh, but Bertie! However mad they all are now, they’ve got to forgive you eventually.”
“Oh, no. Not this time, I’m afraid.”
“What is their reason for disapproval now, anyway?”
“I’d really rather not say.” He looked away, anywhere but Bingo’s face.
“But Bertie—“
“Bingo—“
“Bertie!” He grabbed onto his shoulders, and Bertie couldn’t help but look back at him. “If you’re going to disappear out of my life forever, I need a good reason or I simply will not accept it. Now whoever this girl is, I am sure there is nothing about her that will make me hate you. So what is going on?”
They had made it to the front of the line, now.
Bertie stepped away from his friend and turned to the window. “Two first-class tickets to America, please. Your soonest departing vessel.” He completed the transaction, and stepped away from the window.
Bingo was still staring at him. Bertie couldn’t take it.
“Fine, you’ve worn me down. Get your tickets, and I shall tell you in privacy.”
Bingo nodded, a confused yet determined expression still on his face, and completed his transaction.
Bertie grabbed solid hold of his arm and pulled him across the city. They walked all around and took several turns, until they found a quiet spot with no one around, and Bertie was fairly confident that no one had followed them.
Bingo now looked a little worried. “All right, Wooster, what is this all about? Is this woman charged with murder or something?” He said in a hushed voice.
Bertie’s heart took a hit at the use of his last name. But he did promise he’d tell. “Bingo, it’s not a woman.”
Bingo gasped. His expression was shocked, of course, but it seemed with more emotions under the surface. “Bertie…”
Bertie could no longer look at him. “Well, now you understand. And you know where I’ll be, too. Even if you hate me now, if you ever cared about me, you’d better not share that information with anyone, alright?”
There was silence for a moment, as many things said and unsaid lingered in the air.
Finally, “Oh, Bertie.” And Bingo was hugging him. “I could never hate you.”
And Bertie’s next inhale was more of a shuttering gasp, and then they were both crying. He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear that, from anyone.
“Really?”
“Of course not! We’re friends. We’re brothers. We— we were in school together!”
Bertie laughed through his tears, and Bingo did the same.
They stood there for several minutes, just hugging, until their tears became stains and their breathing became calm.
“So, do I know this bloke?” Bingo said gently.
Bertie chuckled. “Yes, actually. It’s Jeeves.”
Bingo shifted so he was holding Bertie’s shoulders now and could therefore peer into his face. “No, really?” He was smiling. “It wasn’t Rosie’s writing having anything to do with it, what?”
Bertie giggled. “No, I should think not!”
Bingo grinned. “That’s good, Bertie. You two suit each other.”
Bertie smiled, eyes lighting up. “Do you really think so?”
“Oh, absolutely. I don’t think you could be happy with anyone else.”
They stood there a few more moments, smiling at each other.
“Well, I suppose we can accept one visitor. Or three, depending.”
Bingo grinned. “I would be delighted.”
*******
Two days later, and Jeeves and Wooster stepped onto the ship. Their things were already in their cabin waiting to be unloaded.
They stood at the railing, looking at the dock, the city, the country they would soon be departing. Who knew if they would ever come back? It was a sad thought.
In the crowd, Bingo waved, and Bertie raised a subtle hand in return. Bingo shared a nod with Jeeves.
They stood there until departure, watching people file on and go about their business, shouting and hugging goodbye and struggling with their luggage.
Finally, as the ship left the dock, Bertie said one last silent goodbye to England, and turned to face his new life with his love.
I don’t mean to brag, but I’m writing a BANGER fanfiction right now. Will post when complete (about 4/5 done I think)
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a-marlene-s · 4 years ago
Text
Commission: Actions and Consequences
Tags: (I’m going to do a reblog tomorrow with the tags.)
@miner249er commissioned me to write this fic.
If you like my work, please considering supporting me! https://ko-fi.com/a_marlene_s
Warning: SALT SALT SALT SALT. CLASS SALT! LILA SALT! ADRIEN SALT!
Oh, and there’s a bit of Lukanette in this~
----
You know what they say…
All actions have consequences.
Every choice has a consequence.
Be responsible and be…
You get the idea.
This has been on the mind of everyone in the school of Dupont for who knows how long. Oh wait, that really hit home when one Lila Rossi came to Paris and started her lies. It looks like the only ones that were clearly fooled by her lies is the Akuma Class. Including their own teacher!
Well… except for Marinette.
She is the only one that is not fooled into believing such things. Who in the right mind would believe any of that? Akuma class, that is whom. People began to pull away from them. One by one, not wanting to be connected to them. Not so much for the fact they are known as the Akuma class… it is for the lack of regard they have for Marinette.
How dare they treat Marientte in such a way! After what she has done for them! For all of them! They believe the words of that liar over a friend they have known far longer. Some have tried to reach out, but Rossi is always near or just sucks them back into her webs of lies. Whatever work they have to get their friends back to a world of reality, it is reversed back the moment they step back into that classroom filled with webs.
Many have tried and tried again to help them. To help them see the light of what has been going on, but they all refused to see the light. Many of them growing toxic to themselves that it is better to cut ties then to deal with them anymore.
Who could blame them?
They tried. Truly tried.
Did they want to lose their friends?
No. They did not. But for their own health and sanity… they cut their losses and moved on. At least, they are reassured, that the only ones in Rossi’s grasp is the Akuma class sans Marientte Dupain-Cheng. For which, they made a promise to get protect her from them. She does not deserve the mistreatment. No one does.
-.-
It started out small.
Too busy to hang out.
Leaving messages on read.
Avoiding having them around.
Cutting conversations short.
Many other things to get away.
Some others… are more up front with their dislike with Lila Rossi.
They do not bother to hide their disgust.
Some kept quiet to a degree…
Mireille gave Lila a worried smile as she started to tear up about Aurore’s mistreatment towards the latter. She simply patted Lila’s cheek, leaning close so that she could wrap her arms around Lila to give her a comforting hug… before whispering into her ear as everyone watched on. “Play along… after all… this is just a game for you. You don’t want to disappoint your audience.”
It wasn’t much of an issue to play along with Lila’s games when she tried to bring in the Akuma Class as backup. Long as you show sympathy, play along with Lila’s games against her… you should be good. Lila will never break in character in front of them. Long as you don’t call her out in front of them and act just as deluded to make her mess up, it’s all good.
Then there are the times one has to be more up front…
“Achoo! Ugh, sorry, allergies you see.” Aurore sneered out as she ‘accidentally’ stabbed her umbrella into Lila’s hair when she sneezed. “I’m allergic to bullshit.”
Lila’s jaw dropped as she tried to pull her hair but only wincing as her hair really got caught in the umbrella. She looked around, hoping to catch someone’s attention. But… no one is paying any mind. If anything, one of them even went as far to offer Aurore an allergy pill. “Why are you doing this? I never did anything to anyone!”
“Oh, shut up. We all know you’ve been mistreating Marinette since day one.” Aurore teased, there was a glint in her eyes as she easily untangled her umbrella out of Lila’s hair. “All of us were willing to stand back because Marinette asked us to. Then you got her expelled… Let’s make some truths…”
-.-
Slowly but surely, things began to change for Bustier’s Class. Or better known as, the Akuma Class began to see a change. Then again, things have been happening and have been so caught up in Lila’s lies to even take note of any of it at first.
Many have already put a distance between them and themselves.
It’s silly really. None of them really had taken note of the fact here is now a wall between them. Slowly growing as time goes by. It really came ahead when news spread around on Marinette’s expulsion and her return back to school without much of a say on what happened.
Except for the fact Lila claims Marinette had stolen an answer sheet, her necklace and pushed said girl down a staircase.
Why no one bothered to look deeper into those lies, is beyond anyone at this point. What really got to the rest of the school is how the Akuma Class, Bustier and Damocles’ are so far up Lila’s ass that they wonder if they could even see the sun at this point. It was at that point, the gloves were off and no more.
It was time to bring out the big guns when word got out that Lila supposedly has a lying disorder… only to Bustier and Damocles. Only them, no one else. Thus, only causing more tension for Marinette with the rest of her classmates as they still believe the original lies. All of them giving her a side eye, wondering what she should do next.
Marinette doing something against Lila?
Hah.
It’s going to be the entirety of Dupont against Lila now.
Dupont vs the Akuma Class, sans Marinette. They love their sleep deprived cinnamon roll that could possibly kill them once she finds out what they are up to.
It would be so worth it though…
-.-
“I’m sorry Rose, I’m going to be busy that weekend. Busy, busy at the studio!”  Mireille smiled sweetly at Rose, Juleka, Mylene, Alya and Lila. “Nadja is prepping me to do live interviews over the weekend. I’ve been told I might interview a rock star! Isn’t that great!”
“Wow! That’s amazing, Mireille!” Rosa said in awe. The others following along, amazed by the news.  They were gushing over the fact Mireille is possibly going to interview a pop star soon. Going on and on… Mireille simply smile, keeping her arms behind her back and her knuckles turning white as she kept a tight grip on the back of her blouse. She kept an eye on Lila, her smile only growing as Lila tried to steer the conversation back to herself.
Mireille did not care; this would be the perfect opportunity for her to walk away.
Expect when she saw Marinette walk down the hallway with Aurore.
“Hey Marinette, did you hear? Lila knows who Mireille is going to interview.” Alya mentioned, grinning at Lila’s direction. “
Marinette paused, nose scrunching up. She looked over at Mireille to see her eyes narrowing at the direction of Lila. Clearly, this is one of the many lies Lila has up her sleeves. Aurore smiled at Lila, almost warningly. “Yeah, she told us last week.”
Marinette looked around her classmates to smile at Mireille. “Nadja finally got in contact with them?”
“Thanks to you, Marinette. Nadja got in contact with all of them.” Mireille smiled widely at Marientte and Aurore. “We can’t thank you enough for that favor! Come on! I know the perfect tea shop!”
Mireille walked over to Marinette and looped an arm around one of Marinette’s own. Her smile only grew as Aurore looped her own arm around Marinette’s free arm. The two girls quickly pulled Marinette away from Lila’s sights all the while talking about the interview and the tea shop.
“Did… did they just ditch us?” Alya pulled a face as she watched Aurore, Marinette and Mireille walk away. Mireille had earlier mentioned she was going to be busy after classes which is why they asked her if she was going to be free this weekend. Apparently, she’s supposedly busy with other things than to thang out with them. Why?
“Hey, girls… is everything alright, Alya?”
Alya and the rest of the girls turned around to see Nino and Adrien walking up to them. Her smile grew when she saw Lila warp an arm around Adrien’s own. What she didn’t see is how stiff his smile became but continued on.
Adrien looked ahead to see Marinette with a Mireille and Aurore. The three chatting away without a care in the world. His brows furrowed at the sight. As of late, this has been becoming the norm…
-.-
“Mom said we could hire a DJ for the event, but…”
“Davis already have the day filled?”
“Yeah. Along with Diego, Mei and Lola.”
“What about Nino? He DJ’s, too right?”
“Hah! Dad, don’t joke! Like I want him to DJ the party! Marinette is going to be there and if I have him there, he’s going to wonder why no one else in his class was invited. I am not going to invite a bunch of people that have been mistreating my friend.” Claude grimaced at the thought. He was not going to have Nino DJ his party. If things were different, things would have been different. It is his party. His. He is not going to run the risk of Lila Rossi and her flying monkeys coming to his party and making it all about her.
Yeah… that is not happening.
Lila will find a way turn the party so that it’s geared towards her. She did that at Izzy’s 15 birthday bash and it took Izzy weeks to console her after she regretfully invited Rose, who in turn invited Lila after she overheard the blonde telling Juleka about it. Rose never asked or apologized to Izzy about inviting Lila, who in turn invited her flying monkeys.
Yeah… Claude was not going to let that happen. To make sure that does not happen no one from the Akuma Class, except for Marinette, is invited to his party.
“That’s a bit harsh. I’m sure there’s more to the story. You and Nino were good friends for some time now.” Claude’s father said, worry filled his tone.
“And I thought Nino was close friends with Marinette far longer but apparently that does not matter to him.” Claude deadpan. “I am not going to have Nino DJ the party. Plus his girlfriend is Lila’s main supporter. If I do have Nino DJ, he’ll tell Alya who will tell Lila and I am back to square one. The one I want to avoid! I don’t want Lila Rossi at my party!”
“I’m sure she’s just trying to make friends…”
“…that’s what you said about Clarice before mom divorced you.”
-.-
Adrien paused mid-bite, straining his ears to overhear what is being said on the booth several seats away. He overhead Claude saying Nino and Lila’s names several times but never a clear sentence. It took a while before it caught on what is being said.
Izzy’s party was amazing to say the least! He went along as the rest of his classmates invited him along and he finally got permission to go by his father. The party was amazing to say the least! The music! The food! Everything else!
Why wouldn’t Claude want to ask Nino to DJ his party? It wouldn’t be a bad idea to invite everyone. It would be horrible to note everyone. Wasn’t Claude friends with everyone in his class?
Right?
Sitting across of Adrien is Nino, concentrating on a calendar that he brought out along. Nino has been… struggling to get gigs for a while now. It was not so much he could not get someone to hire him, from what Nino has been telling Adrien, it’s actually doing his job. As of late, he hasn’t been asked to DJ for anyone else outside of his class. Sure, there are some here and there, but at times… he needed to cancel because Alya wanted to do something with Lila and wanted him there for it.
-.-
Luka resisted the urge to pull out his ears as the rest of Kitty Section, sans Adrien and Marientte, whisper to other. All the while sending him weird looks throughout. This is the first time they have met up for practice in well over a month since they keep bailing on practice. Why? They prefer to hang out with Alya… who is hanging out with this Lila Rossi. All. The. Time.
They all have been talking about Lila Rossi… nonstop. Going on and on about her. To the point, Luka suspects that Rose wrote a song about her for some damned reason. Why are they talking about her?
Lila Rossi knows Jagged Stone.
How Lila Rossi’s dance move got stolen from Clara Nightingale.
How close she is to Prince Ali.
Lila knows a lot of people that could, supposedly, get them famous. How Lila has connections to help Kitty Section become famous. Knows someone that would make them better costumes. Along with even knowing how to write better music.
Lila this…
Lila could do this.
Luka stood up from his spot from the makeshift stage with his guitar in hand. There tunes are different, no longer in tune to the music, let alone to their hearts. More so when he is supposedly out of ear shot and they started to whisper about how Lila mentioned that he, the founder of Kitty Section, should no longer be in the band. How Lila told them how he is hold them back and that she knows someone that is better than himself.
Him holding them back.
Really?
Rossi is the one that is holding them back.
If they want to repeat that broken tune, so be it. He needs to find his muse. Luka left them to whisper to themselves. If Lila believes that they do not need him, so be it. Leaving without much of a fight, he knew when it was a time to retreat until they got their bearings. Right now, he now needs to find out more about Lila Ros-
“Psst! Over here!”
“Hey! You! Luka!”
Luka paused, an eyebrow raised as he slowly turned around to see two individuals, some of his sister’s friends from a different class, are calling out to him. They were both holding umbrellas, which only made them stand out more in his opinion. “Hello?”
“Come here!” The blonde motioned for him to walk over to them.
“Hurry before they see you!” The other said, pointing down the hall. Luka looked down said hall to see Adrien and some unknown girl that is clinging onto his arm. Oh.
Luka hurried over to the girls and they promptly hid him under their umbrellas and behind the pillar with them. It was close enough to listen into whatever Adrien and the new girl’s conversation.
-.-
Adrien stood by as Kitty Section walked out to meet him and Lila, and they started to talk about Lila’s advice. What’s this advice? That it would better for Luka to leave Kitty Section as it would be too weird for him to be in the band with them. It is concerning to say the least. Are the really going to kick out Luka from the band?
“It is better this way. Luka is only holding all of you back.” Lila smiled at her classmates as she tightened her grasp around Adrien’s arm. “All of you are better off without him. I’ve talked to that producer friend of mine and Jagged Stone, and they both agree. Luka is no good for your image.”
“I suppose you are right…” Juleka said, twiddling around with her gloves. Rose reached over to hold onto her hands and gave her an encouraging smile. Juleka chewed on her bottom lip as she thought it over.
“I am positive that Luka will understand.” Lila smiled once more and this seemed to put Juleka in a better place.
“We have been practicing without him for the last month.” Rose mentioned, tugging onto Juleka’s hands. “We could do it.”
Lila smiled brightly, increasing her hold around Adrien. She looked at the blonde for support. “Right, Adrien?”
-.-
Who does she think she is???
They have been practicing without him.  For the past month? Without him? Well, that’s one thing he could easily take with a grain of salt. What his sister is saying has his song beating a new beat that hasn’t been played for so long. What really got Luka’s attention is the fact they were all eating up Lila’s lies.
Are they really that gullible?
“This is just the bare minimum of what Rossi has been doing to your sister’s class.” Aurore explained, motioning for Luka to follow her and Mireille.
Luka’s brows furrowed over the blonde’s words. “…Is something being down about it?”
“More or less, but that’s for later. Right now, we are planning a party later for Marinette and we need you to distract her for a bit.” Aurore said, nudging Luka with her elbow and gave him a sly grin. “The party is for her. Did she tell you about her class situation?”
“Marinette has mentioned she wanted to tell me something but everytime she tried to say it, one of her classmates popped up and she would go quiet…” Luka trailed off as he took that in. Oh, that would explain some things. Shaking his head, he would ask her later about it. “I’ll talk to her later about it. Tell me more about this Lila…? I don’t like her song.”
-.-
Mendeleiev was never one that cared so much to know about the personal lives of her students. In terms that, she does not care who is dating (long as it is a healthy and very much legal relationship), knowing what her students are doing after classes (long as it is nothing illegal or against the rules), and well… whatever she had just witnessed from down the hall.
Ondine just broke up with Kim.  
Which is a big surprise considering how googly eyed they are… were for each other. A big shock, that’s for sure. However… considering what has been going on, it’s no surprise to anyone. Well…
To Bustier’s class that is. Those poor, poor, souls do not know what is coming to them. It was just a matter of time and patience before someone loses said patience. There is only so much someone could stand idly by or do their best to help others, before washing their hands of them. Look at herself? Mendeleiev did so to Bustier due to the fact the younger woman refuses to listen to reason.
Mendeleiev shook her head as she headed to her room. She needed to create some paperwork in hopes that will push some people to see things her way.
-.-
Adrien gulped when he heard the news that Ondine broke up with Kim. That came out from nowhere! Completely out of nowhere. Why did she break up with them? They were so happy together it does not make any sense.
A lot of things have not been making sense for a while now. Many of those things were small at first, but Adrien could no longer shake off that creeping feeling there is more t-
“Adrien… a word?”
-.-
Marinette stared down at her phone, her shoulders shaking as she read the text messages her fri… her classmates are sending her. Varies of texts that has her wondering what the heck is going on to her class, are they finally seeing the rest of the school just does not tolerate Lila?
“Block them, Mari.” Luka murmured into her ear while he played with her loose hair. He and Marinette were in her latter’s room on the sofa, with the bluenette snuggled up to Luka. He reached for the phone and took it from Marinette, ignoring the pout that was sent his way. Placing the phone in his pocket for safe keeping, Luka wrapped his arms around Marinette and reached down to give her a peck on her neck.
“I suppose I could forget about them for now…” Marinette giggled at Luka’s actions, she smiled when she felt Luka grin against her neck. She raised an eyebrow at Luka, despite the fact he could not see it. “Are you hiding something from me, Luka?”
“You could say that… Aurore and Mireille asked me to distract you as they set up a surprise.” Luka mumbled into her neck, his grin ever present. “How am I in distracting you?”
Marinette’s jaw drop when she felt Luka started to press kisses up and down her neck, her mind went blank just long enough to return the favor. This was so much better than dealing with her classmates demanding answers to something they should have known since day one.
-.-
“Ugh, again with Lila crap?”
“I know, right? Why does Alya keep posting those so-called interviews she has for Rossi?”
“I don’t know, but have you seen ClaudetteOneEye’s reaction and debunking of it? Hah! Her best yet!”
“She already did a reaction to it! I need to watch it!”
“We still have time before class, watch it now!”
Alya really wanted to storm out of the stall and yell at the individuals that were clearing mocking Lila, who in turn mocking her. What is there to debunk? There is nothing to debunk! Lila has been most telling about her history with Ladybug. They are best friends for Pete’s sake! Alya took out her phone and started her search to show those gir-
“You know how Alya always goes on and on about how she’s a reporter and always checks her facts…”
Snort.
“Hah. Her checking facts? Has she ever checked on any of the crap Lila has been spewing? Any of it?”
“I know, right? Plus, has she ever asked Ladybug about it before posting any of their interviews?”
“Like the little good reporter that she is? Unlikely. No wonder Ladybug has been ignoring her.”
Has… has she ever asked Ladybug about Lila? Alya ran a hand through her hair as she tried to think of an answer to her question. Of course, there were times when she has recently tried to get an interview, but Ladybug just… started to avoid her.
-.-
“Saving Jagged Stone’s cat? If they looked it up, they would have checked that him and his fiancé are allergic to animal fur.”
“Doesn’t he have a pet crocodile?”
“Yeah. He does.”
“That’s just as pathetic as her knowing Prince Ali and being friends with him.”
“Uggghhhh. That doesn’t even make sense, she’s been here in Paris for months before she started coming to Dupont.”
“That’s what I thought! Among the other bull she’s spewed out, the ones that grinds my gears are all the ones she lied about Marinette…”
“Yeah. They all known her for years and this new girl comes along and what? All that goes out the window?”
“Marinette does so much for them, and this is the thanks she gets? That they’ll believe Lila’s lies that she supposedly pushed her down the stairs, steal her necklace and some other bullshit?”
“Still heated about it?”
“Of course, I’m heating about it! They still think she did those things! From what Marinette told Aurore and Mireille, they didn’t even let her talk or defend herself. They took Lila’s side and expelled her.”
“Tell me again, how Marinette got un-expelled?”
“From what Marinette told them… Lila said she had a lying disease.”
“That is bull. I am so over the moon over the fact she’ll be leaving that class. Come on, Aurore said she’s going to need help setting things up.”
Juleka, Mylene and Nathaniel pushed themselves against the wall as they watched several students run past them towards the courtyard. Their expressions betrayed how they felt over what they just overheard. Did they just hear right? Lila has been lying this whole time… and none of them… No, just their class never caught it.
Except for Marinette.
Mylene shakily took out her phone to look up all of Lila’s stories, the others followed in doing so.
-.-
Adrien sat on a stone bench as he watched Kagami paced in front of him. Every time he tried to say something, she would shoot in a glare. He looked down on his lap as he tried to think of what he should say when he’s finally able to speak. Somehow, Kagami found out about Lila’s lies. All of them. From whom, he does not know. Maybe Marientte told her, he’ll have to ask her about it. She shouldn’t have told Kagami about Lila. “Kagami, did Marientte tell you about Lila? I-”
“Agreste, everyone at school and whoever has met Rossi, knows she is a liar. Everything that has ever come out of her mouth is a lie. Everything.” Kagami said in a tight voice. She stopped pacing to stare down at Adrien. “Marientte told me nothing. I was the one that had to go around to figure out exactly what type of person she is.”
“Why didn’t you ask me about Lila before you asked others?” Adrien asked, head shooting up to stare at Kagami with confusion. “I would ha-”
“You would have attempted to pressure me to not do anything against Rossi once I found out exactly what kind of person she is. However, considering you never told her off about that picture she took of the two of you…” Kagami looked up and down at Adrien, her mouth twisted into a scowl. “You would have attempted to have me stay quiet about Rossi’s nature. Just like you are doing to, Marinette… correct?”
“I-I just don’t want to cause problems!” Adrien exclaimed, pushing himself off the bench. “I don’t want any problems in class, and with Marinette trying to out Lila it was impossible. I don’t want Lila to get akumatized anymore.”
Kagami stood her ground, crossing her arms over her chest. “And what of your classmates? Your friends? Marinette or myself? I was akumatized because of her, remember? Don’t we all matter too?”
“It’s more complicated than that, Kagami.”  
“Complicated? Complicated! How is that complicated! Explain yourself!”
“…”
“…What did you tell Marinette about Lila’s lies? Adrien, what did you tell her?”
“Could we drop this?”
“Tell. Me.”
“I told her, as long as me and her know the truth, does it really matter?”
“Adrien, it does matter! Everything matters! You are allowing Rossi to walk all over Marinette and make her out to be the bad guy for trying to stand up for herself.” Kagami snarled out, causing Adrien to jump. “You are forcing her to stay quiet about someone’s lies. You do realize once your friends find out, they will be the ones that are going to get akumatized. Not Rossi. What then? Who are you going to protect then?”
“I’m doing my best, Kagami.” Adrien pleaded.
“Your best is not good enough. Rossi is escalating and you are doing nothing. What will happen if she says you two are dating? What then? Far as I supposed know, are dating but this is extremely one sided considering you keep putting Rossi’s feelings above everyone.”
“I… I don’t know…”
“…you are pathetic. Your best is not good enough and it will never be.” Kagami sniffed, she pulled out her phone to look at the time and grinned a bit. She put it away before starting back at an obviously hurt Adrien. “What? Like I would allow someone who I am supposedly seeing, to put some other girl’s feelings above my own.”
Adrien opened and closed his mouth, unable to say anything as he was unable to respond to Kagami’s words. How was he supposed to respond that, there was no answer to that for him. “Please understand th-”
Kagami shook her head before she pulled out phone before putting it away. She gave Adrien on last look before walking away. “You need to stop putting horrible people above those that have been nothing but supportive of you… It’s no wonder why Marinette has finally given up.”
-.-
Ladybug swung around Paris at night as she thought over today’s events. It’s safe to say, that today has been one of the best days of her life since becoming Ladybug to say the least. She felt free and no longer held up to an impossible standard. To think transferring to a different class has made her feel as such. It also may have helped she told everything to Luka what has been happening to her since Lila came to Paris. The memory of that conversation made her blush as at the end of it, they are now officially together. It made her happy, immensely so.
Their first date was at the welcoming party Aurore and Mireille threw for her transfer to their class. Best date and party ever. The cherry on top, was when her former classmates crashed the party(apparently that was planned) and Claudette of @ClaudetteOneEye did a live reaction to one of the newest interview of Lila. It was priceless to say the least. Her former classmates tried to approach her but that was shut down immediately. Many other things had happened at the party that made it so much better, but that’s a thought for another day.
Right now, there is someone sitting alone at the park.
Is that Adrien?
Ladybug let out a sigh before she swung down to the park.
Adrien blinked a couple of times when he heard steps walking towards him. He looked over to see Ladybug walking up to him. He smiled at the sight of her. “Hello, Ladybug? Having a good night?”
Ladybug raised an eyebrow at Adrien, she sensed something is up with Adrien but did not make any notion for him to open up. “A little late to be out, Adrien?”
Adrien shrugged before he looked down at the ground, his brows furled deep in thought. “Can I ask you something, Ladybug? I need your advice in something?”
Ladybug stared at him for a moment before motioning for him to speak. Might as well hear what Adrien wants to say and need advice in. This is new considering how his advice has never been exactly the greatest.
Adrien began to tell her about the advice he had given to Marinette, when it came to Lila.
Adrien Agreste is asking her opinion on the advice he had given Marinette, who by extension, is actually herself. The same advice that had weighed heavy in her mind so much so, that it nearly akumatized her. Ladybug had stopped listening to Adrien as she felt anger started to bubble within her. This is too much, far too much. It was one thing to ask her about his original advice. Oh no, now he’s going on about Marinette’s actions that contradicted mentioned advice.
For what? To make sure that Lila does not get akumatized. Again.
“And Marinette? What of Marinette? Were you not even worried if she got Akumatized because of Lila?” Ladybug cut Adrien off. “Have you even thought of the highly possible chance she could be the one getting Akumatized over your advice? Paris got very lucky tonight there were no akumas out tonight otherwise the city would have Akuma’s at every corner of it.”
Adrien looked shocked over Ladybug’s words. His silence, his answer, has Ladybug starting to pace around.
“No, you did not care. What you cared is to make sure Marinette kept quiet and did not stand up for herself. Not only to Lila, but also by extension to Chloe.” Ladybug grounded out, sending Adrien a glare as she continued to pace. “You expected Marientte that as long as the two of you knew the truth, that nothing else pretty matters? That as long as Lila continued lying to everyone and allowing her to walk over Marinette, who is supposed to be your friend, that it did not matter?”
“It’s not like that, Ladybug.” Adrien stood up and approached Ladybug. Ladybug raised a hand at Adrien’s direction to stop him from getting close to her.
“Then how is it, Adrien?” Ladybug questioned. “You are prioritizing Lila over everyone, even if it puts them all at risk at getting akumatized themselves. Is that what you wanted to hear? That your advice is horrible. Let me tell you something, Marinette, your supposed friend to nearly get akumatized. Twice. It’s all because of Lila and the second time, Hawkmoth got to her and for some reason the akumatization did not take place. Lila caused that. All because she wanted to keep your promise when it came to her. Truth is that Lila Rossi is a liar that should have been exposed a long time ago and I am happy that it happened tonight. I am happy!”
“What about Lila? It was horrible what happened to her, she got humiliated in front of nearly the entire school.” Adrien tried to ask but was cut off when he saw Ladybug pulling out her yo-yo.
“To be frank Adrien… when it comes to bad people… you need to knock them down several pegs to get them to understand how wrong they are.”
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butwhatifidothis · 3 years ago
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I think this post I found on an unrelated topic explains why debunking and criticizing the Cap's fic is important. His works, meta or fanfic aren't canon, it's just his interpretation of the game.
Different anon: >claude accused of sexual assault
>dedue beheaded
(Different anon) okay lmao fuck capn. As you said this goes beyond a bad fic. This is just fucking offensive but its praised because "uwu eddy" like holy shit. This isn't "op doesn't like my comfort character burn him" like no its actually upsetting me because of all the bigotry disguised as being woke. No offense to edelgard or her fans. I actually quite like edelgard. But some edelstans need to chill. The lengths they will go to portray their war mongering wife as a saint is disgusting.
Different anon: You know what, I'm gonna dunk on this fic even harder. Okay but in all honesty if this was just some dumb fic I would read it and make fun of it on my own or with a few friends, I wouldn't try to shit on the author or their work publicly or something like that. But when the fic and author in question have played a major role in the fandom, particularly in shaping the discourse and meta surrounding some characters, and promotes several questionable beliefs in the process, that's another story.
*Accused Claude of either being a variety of horrible shit or otherwise willingly working with said horrible shit, to be clear (literally every TWS person we canonically see is guilty of all of what I listed sans sexual assault, so accusing Claude of being one of them very heavily implies that he's also guilty of the same crimes)
Exactly! Like, if this was just some Joe Schmoe bargain bin shit I'd just adjust my tags to blacklist it like I do every other time I come across garbage and go about my day. Going over every single fanfic that makes Edelgard into a hero and demonizes the other characters is stupid and useless - villains are always gonna have their fans who try to erase all of their flaws and make them into uwu darlings. This is such a staple in fanfiction as to have a well-known term for it that it directly related to a character that's has this exact thing happen to them an incalculable amount of times (Draco in Leather Pants), so I literally wouldn't care if this was just that.
But it goes well beyond just making Edelgard into just a poor wittle babby cinnamon roll; as I've already listed, there's misogyny, misandry, racism, ableism, etc. etc. oozing out of the pores, but this is the fic people are saying they are basing their actual view of the actual game off of.
Consistently giving minority race characters worse treatment than that of their majority race peers? Fine! Constantly infantilizing women and taking away any agency they have? Good! Repeatedly painting men as this negative force that taint everything they touch if they don't bow down to the propped up lesbian? Dandy! Portraying the "wrong" mental health issues as making people crazed beasts and/or manipulative villains while portraying the "right" mental health issues as making people weak, helpless, broken victims? So ~brave~ of the author to give such a ~real~ representation of how mental health ~actually~ affects people, not like the stupid game that would dare let people with stigmatized MI be good people with actual agency :)
The 3H fandom looks upon this fic and this author promoting such blatantly rancid shit and said to themselves, "Yes, this is what I should look to for my critical analysis of the game. Not the game itself, but this." This fic and author are, in large part, the reason so many worrying takes have taken off. Like, when someone as big and looked to as Cap'n portrays Dimitri and Rhea are nearly solely mindless animals, it's no shock that the "Dimitri and Rhea needed to be put down" take is what comes of it. Fandom takes this fic as canon + This fic portrays Dimitri and Rhea as animals = Fandom treats Dimitri and Rhea as animals, because hey, "canon" does! So why shouldn't they!
And when people who haven't read this fic and have just the game's knowledge with them - you know, the actual canon with them, not one person's incorrect perception of the game - and they disagree with all the inaccurate (and horrible) shit that the fic posits as true, they get told they're stupid, that they don't know what they're talking about, and that they are the ones who don't understand the game because they aren't taking someone else's headcanon as canonical fact. Dimitri fans get told that they only like him cuz they're horny women who wanna fix the bad boy and that they're fetishizing mental illness. Rhea fans get told that they're supporting eugenics and slavery and feudalism and oppression. Edelgard fans who like her as a villain, like she is are told that actually they hate her and also maybe hate women and/or lesbians (since they don't like Edelgard, which of course they don't, because they call her a villain).
TEatG, I’m sure, is far from the only big-name fanfiction of a fandom to have immensely troubling aspects to it and still be propped as the “pinnacle of analysis;” this isn’t something unheard of, and it also isn’t something that in the past also hasn’t similarly been ripped to shreds by people who looked at it and went “Wow, this is actually terrible.” I’m not about to feel bad for criticizing a fic that has had such lasting and wide-spread negative impact on the game and fandom, just like I wouldn’t feel bad about criticizing someone’s meta post (since this is basically what this fic is). 
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philliamwrites · 4 years ago
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The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.3]
Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses
Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings
Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content
Words: 7.7k
Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.
Notes: Chapter 2 | Chapter 4
Chapter 03: Ties That Bind
Where war, and joy, and terror Have all at times held away; Where both delight and horror Have had their fitful day.
The happiest under heaven A king of powerful mind; A company so proven Would now be hard to find
Gawain put on a good cheer. ‘Why should I hesitate?’ He said. ‘Kind or severe, We must engage our Fate.’
[Sir Gawain and the Green Knight]
    „Breathe,“ Hanneman says for the third time. At every tap of his pen against the table, you flinch as if someone is knocking right against the inside of your skull. “You have to feel the Crest, become one with it. Don’t think of it as an addition; see it as an extension of your very self.”
    You exhale but it’s hard to focus after you’ve been sitting in the same position for nearly two hours and your legs keep falling asleep.
    “Focus on it,” Hanneman continues. He starts to gesture with his free hand, an indicator that he’s just as frustrated with your lack of progress as you are. “Focus on the feeling that took hold of you when you fought the bandits. Imagine what you want. Ask yourself what it is you really want, and take hold of that picture.”
    Well, first of all, you really want a sandwich.
    For the past few weeks, you’ve been waking up before sunrise to attend private lessons with Hanneman to get a hold of your Crest’s power. Now the end of the month approaches, and still your body refuses to get accustomed to work at such an early hour, and more importantly without eating first. An hour ago, your stomach started growling, but Professor Hanneman has proved again and again to be very successful in ignoring factors that disturb his lessons. You continue breathing through what you consider hunger pains instead of the raise of new powers, but with the sound of screaming students outside and the occasional flapping of wings as Pegasus Knights fly by on their patrol, it’s anything but successful.
    “Focus!” Hanneman chides again as if he can read your mind and knows exactly you’re thinking of the pheasant roast with berry sauce on the menu today.
    “I’m trying,” you groan and slump into the chair, defeated. “But I don’t feel anything.”
    “Hmm hmmm,” Hanneman hums and looks at you like you were supposed to understand what he’s conveying with that sound. “Maybe we’re looking at it the wrong way,” he says once you don’t follow up on his inexplicable sound. “Maybe we should stop thinking of it as a common Crest, but approach it like it is something entirely different.” He quickly notes something on his paper, then proceeds to flip through the open books he’s splayed out on his desk. “There is so little we know about the Crest of the Herald. I am much frustrated no one thought of studying it a thousand years ago!”
    “I don’t understand. How can it be different?” Your first lesson solely focused on Crests. How they are thought to be power incarnate, bestowed upon humans by the Goddess countless ages ago. Today those who are descendants of Fódlan’s Ten Elites and Four Saints, who fought during the War of Heroes beside Saint Seiros, wear Crests, a sign of wealth and nobility.
    “Well, one possible explanation could be that for whatever reason, the first Herald was different from his fellow warriors, the Ten Elites,” Hanneman offers, leaning back into his chair and looking a lot more interested in the conversation now. “The Goddess must have found him worthy of her power just as she found Saint Seiros worthy.”
    “Then why wasn’t he a Saint?” you wonder. From your understanding, the Four Saints were special comrades of Saint Seiros, just as guided by the Goddess as their leader. What had made the Herald from back then different? “According to everything you told me, he sounds a lot like this Macuil person. Focusing on strategy and all that.”
    “Saint Macuil,” Hanneman corrects you, but there’s no bite in his voice. “And yes, perhaps he was akin to the Saints, but that clearly wasn’t what determined the final decision to name him Herald.”
    “Well, that’s just my kind of luck,” you mumble, but when Hanneman makes a puzzled sound, you ask instead, “And you’re sure I’m a descendant of him?”
    “Most likely! You bear a Major Crest, which means the Herald’s blood runs strong in your body. After he disappeared, he might have settled down and started a family. Unfortunately, nothing is recorded about him after the War of Heroes concluded.”
    “Then how come there was no one else in a thousand years who bore the same Crest?�� You aren’t sure you fully understand how they work. Apparently, Crests grant special powers to those who hold them such as high aptitude for magic or enhanced strength. But you know better than anyone that the Crest of the Herald is special. It doesn’t simply give you a boon, it allows you to command the flow of battle. But is it really a blessing bestowed by the Goddess? You don’t remember a divine revelation or talking to a Goddess. Or did that maybe occur even before you were found by the Officers Academy’s students? Before your memory loss? You certainly don’t feel chosen by a deity.
    “Trying to explain the Goddess’ whims would wield about the same result as asking this question,” Hanneman says. “Sometimes a Crest may skip generations. No one can say with certainty who will be chosen. If it will be the first or third born. That is why we must further study Crests! For example, why, unlike other Crests, has your appeared physically visible?” Hanneman mutters more questions under his breath and notes them quickly on his paper. It’s remarkable how enthusiastic he approaches the topic if it only didn’t make you feel like an experiment lying on a dissection table.
    “I want to know so much more about the first Herald,” you mumble. “What was his name? Where was he from?” Why did he disappear and what were the costs he had paid for such a title. Only one month in and Lady Rhea already granted you an impressive room to reside. People treat you with respect and admiration even though you aren’t doing much besides wave at them on the streets or hold some conversations. If being the Herald only encompasses these tasks, you’ll gladly take on the role and speak to people. But that would be a dream too good to be true.
    “We can only speculate,” Hanneman says. “Some believe the Herald came when Seiros needed him most. Our Goddess’ answer to her cry of help. Others believe he was simply a general who originated form a farmer’s family. Other, smaller sources talk about a prince from a far off land who passed through Fódlan and decided to stay. But in all cases, the Herald was a great asset to win the War of Heroes and save Fódlan from the tyranny of the Fell King.”
    “Yeah, no pressure there,” you mumble, sinking further into your seat. Hopefully no one expects you to save Fódlan from evil monarchs. If yes, it certainly won’t happen on an empty stomach. When Hanneman releases you, there’s only one place for you to be. The Dining Hall is crowded at this time of hour. Students and faculty bustle everywhere, eager to get their favourite meal on a plate. Just like them, you are drawn in by the amazing smell of roasted meet and freshly baked pastries.
    The only thing you can live without is how once you enter the room several heads turn in your direction, and a ripple of “Look, it’s the Herald” goes through the crowd, spreading like a wave. Or a disease, you think with a sour taste in your mouth as you move through the parting sea. They want you to acknowledge them but Goddess forbid you actually engage in conversation with them and they flee like you’re the Herald of Pest.
    “Herald!” Well, not everyone escapes. Some seem to like living dangerous.
    Edelgard looks straight at you from between the other students from the Eagle class sitting at a table, removing any doubt she means anyone else but you. Running from her would be a sign of defeat, so you drag yourself over to the Eagle table and give the round an uncertain smile. “Hello.”
    “Herald, if you have time, please sit with us,” Edelgard offers but the look she pins on you doesn't give you any choice. The silence of her classmates speaks louder than words, and a quick glance to Hubert tells you that he very much would like for you to notsit with them.
    “Sure,” you say lamely and sit opposite from her where Bernadetta quickly shuffles to the side to make room, and then further down the bench until she jumps to her feet and flees from the hall. It’s a miracle she’s out of her chambers in the first place, undoubtedly Byleth’s work.
    “Did you manage any progress with Professor Hanneman?” Edelgard asks, carefully cutting her pheasant roast into small bite-sized pieces. She looks the complete opposite from someone capable of hacking away their enemies but you wouldn’t dare to underestimate her.
    “It’s slow,” you admit, solely focusing on shoving potatoes from one side of your plate to the other so you don’t have to look at anyone. “I’ve only grasped the basics of how Crests work and the Herald’s is so different.”
    “Research might prove more fruitful if you’d be called into action,” she says, and it’s difficult to determine if that statement is a simple observation or underlying critique towards Rhea’s decision to leave you out of the major education system. At least that’s something you’re sure of. Edelgard is difficult.
    “Maybe. But chances are higher I get myself killed somehow on the battlefield.” You’re already dreading the approaching noon hours. Byleth has worked out a special training programme for you and the house leaders. So far there hasn’t been a day without aching muscles and bruises for you. Thinking of Byleth, you can’t help but ask, “So how’s Byleth as a Professor?”
    Edelgard considers her plate with mild interest, but her index fingers start tapping against her cutlery. She has small, delicate hands. Cute hands. You gawk at them for two seconds before noticing Hubert starring daggers at you, and quickly avert your eyes to your cup of ginger tea like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.
    “Our professor shows knowledge in the most curious things,” he says, surprising you by joining the conversation. “I think the Adrestian Empire will benefit greatly from that.”
    You aren’t sure how leading the class correlates directly to joining the Empire, but you don’t want to point that out. Hubert is still too much of a puzzle you’re adamant on not piecing together because whatever picture waits for you after the assembly might be one of horror.
    “She really is one to look up to,” Edelgard agrees, but she isn’t looking at anyone, so it seems she’s saying it more to herself. You want to try and read more out of her expression, but distraction comes quickly in form of more students from the Eagle class. Caspar is the first bouncing excitedly towards the table, and still he somehow miraculously manages to keep his food from flying everywhere. “Herald!” he calls and slides right on the seat right next to you. “How’s the head situation going?”
    “Caspar,” Linhardt chides and gives his friend the disappointed look of a parent that can’t bring his child to use a fork to eat. “Would you stop pestering the Herald with the same question every day?”
    Linhardt hits the mark. It was nice in the beginning to have someone show so much interest in your wellbeing, but now you don’t know if the daily reminder how you fail to regain pieces of your past is rude or just Caspar’s naive politeness.
    “Yeah well.” You try to stuff as much potatoes in your mouth as possible just to avoid talking about it. “Nothin’ yeff.”
    “Herald, please try to keep your manners in check, will you?” Ferdinand comments because of course he catches you with your mouth full and sauce dripping from the corners. Unlucky for him, you don’t really care.
    “Well, sorry.” Caspar frowns and scratches the remains from his plate. The two minutes you needed to finish your potatoes, he’s cleared his whole plate. “I just thought it might help.”
    “Help to be reminded what’s missing?” Linhardt doesn’t look convinced. “I think the Herald knows so better than anyone.”
    “Guys, drop the subject,” Edelgard intervenes. “Let us finish our meals now. Classes resume presently and I don’t want to hear any stomachs growling, understood?” The last part goes with a pointed look towards Linhardt, who answers with a lazy shrug while continuing to poke at his food, looking bored out of his mind. It lasts about three seconds before he brightens up and turns towards you while rummaging through his school bag. From that, he pulls out notes and a pen, and unceremoniously shoves them into your hands. “I have a question, Herald. Would you be so kind and look over these strategic proposals I’ve developed from the last lesson? I understand what you taught us were basics as we find them in the library. I simply took the time and applied those to the strengths and abilities of my classmates.”
    You raise your eyebrows. “You did?” Up until now, you didn’t know Linhardt was paying attention whenever you gave the students your sorry excuses of lessons. You feel like you’ve seen him asleep far more than actually looking at the board or writing, so him presenting his notes to you now is more than a surprise. He has a clean handwriting, small letters that curl into themselves and forget to take a break between words. You squint at the sentences, trying to make them out. It sure doesn’t help that half of it is crossed out by what looks like a strategy sketch with little circles and everyone’s names filling out the space.
    “This looks … elaborate,” you comment, unsure if you’ll ever be able to solve this enigma.
    “No worries.” Linhardt gives a little smile. “Please give me your answer report until tomorrow. And feel free to correct me on anything I’ve done wrong.”
    He’s probably done a much better job than you on your lesson notes, but you nod with a lopsided smile. “I will.”
    “Oh, and while we’re at strategy talk,” Caspar jumps right in, “any good ideas how to take on a taller opponent?”
    “A good kick to their shins?” you suggest.
    “A dagger to their liver?” Edelgard says.
    “Poison in their cup?” Hubert offers.
    “You’re all animals,” Ferdinand says.
    Linhardt groans. “I toldyou how to win in a fight like that, Caspar. Why won’t you listen to me?”
    You don’t want to be part of the argument breaking out between them, so you turn away and try to see what the other students are doing in the dining hall. At the opposite end, Claude catches your eyes and waves like he’s been waiting way too long to finally get your attention. He points at Edelgard and flaps his arms like a chicken. He points at you and spreads his hands behind his head, forming antlers with his fingers. When Edelgard follows your eyes, his head whips around and he pretends to agree with whatever Lysithea just said.
    “I hope you forgive Caspar’s enquiries,” she says, steering your focus back to her. She’s gently tapping the corners of her mouth with an embroidered napkin, and oh there they are again, her delicate fingers. You look away before Hubert catches you staring again and decides to put poison in your cup7. “I speak on behalf of everyone in the Black Eagle House when I say we wish for your full recovery to be soon.”
    “If wishing would only get the job done, I might have something to work with by now.”
    Edelgard doesn’t blink, her expression frozen. “Meaning?”
    “I thought I'd come here and one of the Church's healers would just wave their hands to return my memories,” you mumble, scribbling a tiny Claude with little, evil horns on his head in the corner of Linhardt’s notes.
    Edelgard looks at you like you've just insulted her whole noble lineage. “That isn't how magic works.”
    You throw your arms up in frustration to emphasise that yes, that's the point. You don't know how anything works in this place, and you doubt Byleth's four pages of lesson plans are going to help.
    “If no one comes to your aid, maybe it is time you take matters into your own hands.” You flinch at the scornful sound in Edelgard’s voice. Judging the expression on her face, she seems just as surprised about her outburst. She gets up abruptly and bids farewell with a curt nod, followed closely by Hubert as always. Her classmates look after her, each more puzzled than the next.
    “Didn’t she seem … angry to you?” Linhardt thinks aloud, blinking into the empty space.
    Ferdinand harrumphes. “She’s always like this. Please excuse her, Herald.”
    You don’t think she’s done anything wrong, and yet she certainly doesn’t appear as always. Something about her last words strikes you as especially sharp; reproachful. Those weren’t meaningless words, but you don’t have any ways to decipher the message. A little voice tells you she isn’t wrong either. So far nothing has helped returning your memories—Manuela’s medicine, herbs from the Greenhouse, Hanneman’s spells. It seems like your brain has built defencive walls to repel any probing, which begs the answer to the question what is hiding in secret even more. But can you really do it on your own, like Edelgard suggests? It seems impossible.
    With newfound doubt you finish your meal, saying your goodbyes to the now scattering Eagle students as they scurry off to their next lesson. Two hours are left before you’re meeting with Byleth and the house leaders, and since you agreed to look over Linhardt’s notes, the library seems a good next stop. You still want to go over the seven classical manoeuvres of war, especially since the students didn’t really grasp the remaining two last time, and it gives you a good excuse to look over them again as well. At the beginning, you thought there was nothing you could teach those children, not with experienced colleagues at your side who have participated in countless battles themselves. Who could have thought that talking about tactics and strategies came as natural to you as breathing. Well, Rhea did for certain, and even the students drink up your every word like it is a message from the Goddess herself and you her chosen herald. The irony of it.
    But it isn’t only the students accepting your guidance. Something inside you changed in the last couple of weeks as well. When you started going through the books in the library, it was more stumbling and slipping on foreign terrain, but just in a couple of days, you moved through the matter like a fish following smoothly the currents of its native waters. It felt like home. Like building the foundation of a house from thousand variables, the result different each time but still the same: art. You build the art of battle, the last decision that will bring victory or death. You love every second of it. Which opens the possibility that it really isn’t your first time, but also more questions: Who taught you? What battles have you fought? How many of them did you win? Since those aren’t as simple to answer, you focus on fulfilling the first purpose, and hope that it will some day be enough for the students to survive battles.
    If only it would end there. Your second duty isn’t as easy or pleasant, and it lies in wait for you everywhere, stalking you like a dark shadow with monstrous fangs.
    “Herald.” A soldier gives a courteous bow, intercepting you in the Great Hall on your way to the library. “Pilgrims ask for you near the Entrance Hall. Please allow me to escort you.”
    Immediately, your nerves tingle with nervous anticipation. This is the scary part. Meeting the people, seeing the hope in their eyes. You’d gladly send them back where they’ve come from, but some have travelled for multiple days, and denying them audience would be cruel.
    “Don’t let me stop you from your duties,” you say, unconsciously tugging your clothes in order to appear presentable. “I will welcome them on my own.”
    The soldier nods and bows again, his expression barely readable under the helmet before he disappears as quickly as he came.
    Planning lessons is easy. You can find whatever you need in the library and work out the flow with the students. But nothing can prepare or teach you how to act like the Herald people wish for. Nowhere is anything written on the old Herald, how he talked to them and what promises he’d whispered when day broke. That is where you are on your own. Not even Rhea could answer that question. She only instructed that you see them, and remind them about their devotion to the Goddess—for she was the one who made it possible in the first place.
    The Entrance Hall is emptier than usual. Most of the students are in class, and a handful of knights and soldiers might be at the advanced training camp Jeralt and Alois hold in honour of the Blade Breaker’s return. So spotting the pilgrims isn’t difficult. Especially with the Gatekeeper waving his arms in wide arcs as if fearing you might overlook him.
    “Greetings, Herald!” His grin is blinding. “The pilgrims are waiting for you just at the at the foot of the stairs.”
    “Yeah,” you say. “I can see them.”
    “Oh, yes, of course! If anyone causes problems, count on me to help!”
    “Thanks.” You answer his thumbs up with one of your own before moving downstairs. What a refreshing young man. Certainly good looking under his helmet. Byleth seems to like talking to him a lot as well.
    Today’s pilgrims aren’t much different from other days. Old people are supported by their family members, who have brought baskets with sweets and flowers, presenting them at your feet.
    “Herald,” they breathe in awe, bowing. No matter how often you’ve seen it by now, it still feels incredibly wrong.
    “Raise your heads,” you tell them, helping an elderly woman up to hrer feet. She gasps at your touch, then clings to your hands. You try to swallow past the lump in your throat. “The Archbishop and I bid you welcome. The Goddess will smile upon your devotion.” Your cringe slightly when echoing Rhea’s words and wonder if any second the goddess might punish you by throwing lightning your way.
    “We are blessed to finally meet you,” a younger woman says, taking the old woman from your hands—mother and daughter maybe? “Please accept our gifts, and may the Goddess guide you on your path to light.”
    “She will answer your prayers and guide me so I can bring you peace,” you reply just so you can say something they might want to hear. Judging their delighted expressions this wasn’t the worst you could have said. Dorothea would probably be proud looking at your acting skills. Or point out your bad posture and how you’re avoiding their eyes. Dorothea would probably tell you how much you have to polish your acting skills.
    “Bring us peace?” someone from the last row spits, pushing to the front. “You know nothing, the Herald will bring chaos and ruin!” A man in his forties looms above you, an ugly, padded scar crossing his face from one temple to his chin. A war veteran? They way he holds himself looks like he’s been beaten up once too much to get up again.
    “You heathen, don’t you dare speak to our Herald like that,” the old woman barks, immediately doubling over in a coughing fit. Her daughter supports her, glaring at the man. “Go in peace, but go if you only came to talk ill about our Herald,” she says, clearly upset. "Doubting them is doubting our Goddess. How dare you."
    “First I want to see the Herald do something! What if … if this one is an impostor.” The man turns towards the others, throwing his arms in the air. “Bring forward proof that you are not here to ruin our lands, but to actually serve in the Goddess’ name!”
    This time his demand meets less resistance. Until now people were fine with seeing you and the Crest, but to want actual prove? You could easily threaten them and ask if they doubt the Goddess’ decision, but you’d rather leave that method to Rhea. You don’t want to sound like her. You don’t want to scare people. Yet admitting that you don’t really have a clue how to really use the Crest would surely support the man’s accusation. Diminishing the people’s trust in the Herald is the last thing you want, especially if it means facing Rhea’s scorn.
    “I—”
    “Herald!” A voice calls from the top of the stairs. When you turn around, Sylvain waves and jogs downstairs, looking like he’s been running for some time. “There you are. The Archbishop wants to see you.”
    Oh no, has she heard of your failure already? Giving the choice of facing a group of doubting people or Rhea, you’d immediately go to the people. You give him a curt nod, unable to speak because you don’t trust your voice.
    “I apologise,” you say to the pilgrims, clearing your throat when it comes out as a croak. “I will have something prepared for another time.”
    “No, you do not need to prove anything to us,” the elderly woman says. “We will always believe in you. Please tell Her Grace we are constantly praying to our Goddess and thank her for sending you to us.”
    “I will.” You squeeze her hand a last time. “Save travels.”
    The man still glares at you, but without a chance to keep you present any longer, he turns away and follows the rest. You can’t wait to leave all that behind, and as you steel your nerves for what’s waiting for you in the Audience Chambers, you look up to Sylvain and ask, “Did Lady Rhea say what it is about?”
    He looks over at you and blinks a couple of times, then seems to remember. “Ah ... yeah, about that. I lied.”
    You stop dead in your tracks. “You lied?”
    “Yup. I don’t know what Lady Rhea’s doing. But you looked like you were about to puke at those poor pilgrim’s shoes. As hilarious as that would have been, I wanted to spare you the embarrassment.” He stops now as well and smiles a boyish crooked grin. Sylvain knows exactly what to do with his face so girls fall over themselves to do him a favour, and boys grow jealous of all the attention he gets. Two weeks in, and you’ve figured out his game, keeping a respectable distance that wouldn’t birth the thought you’re avoiding him. In fact, this could be the very first time you’re actually holding a real conversation.
    “Well, I … thank you? But I had everything under control.”
    He looks like he doesn’t believe you. The gatekeeper you’re just passing looks like he doesn’t believe you. You press your lips into a thin line and dare any of them to disagree.
    “Okay.” Sylvain shrugs. “But now we’re here.”
    “Sylvain, what do you want?”
    “Cutting to the chase, huh?” He crosses his arms behind his head. “Why do you think I want something?” Your raised eyebrows seem to be answer enough. Sylvain laughs a little helplessly and returns his hands back to his front, raised as an offer of peace. “I promise, I want nothing. Just a little talking. A little talking hasn’t hurt anyone.”
    Something inside you wants to argue against it, but without a solid argument in hand, you follow him silently, wondering where his destination and intention lies. He belongs to the many students you can’t really read, nothing about his ambitions or goals. Sometimes he gives you this strange look through half lidded eyes, his gaze focused on your right eye—his interest in your Crest undeniable, and yet he’s been one of the few not to talk about it with you. It’s strange because whenever you come together, he looks like there’s something he’s dying to say. This time is no different.
    He leads you to the wooden pavilion in the gardens, but instead of offering you a seat, Sylvain leans his slim hips against the table, half sitting on it. Seteth would be furious seeing this.
    “How’s the Herald business doing for you?” he asks the one question you wouldn't expect from him. “Other than you having ‘everything under control.’” He has the audacity to air-quote. This isn’t a conversation you want to hold right now, leastwise with him. Sylvain must discern that you’re ready to bold from whatever your body is showing. With a quick step, he’s standing between you and the escape route, lazily leaning one arm against a column to uphold the illusion that you’re only having a pleasant talk when in reality his body stands between you and your freedom.
    “Do you talk to the other faculty members like that as well?” you say through gritted teeth, crossing your arms. Sylvain blinks like he doesn’t understand, but you’ve seen this act before, followed by an eerily precise repetition of a subject to one of his classmates when he thinks none of the teachers pay attention. Sylvain is playing dumb and deliberately hiding a sharp mind.
    “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend,” he quickly says, nothing about this crooked smile appearing apologetic whatsoever. “I’m generously curious. You’re holding up really good.”
    “In comparison to what?” you demand, your heartbeat picking up. Is he trying to call you out on something? That you aren’t heraldy enough? But to your surprise, Sylvain looks genuinely surprised by your reaction.
    “To nothing. In general?” He shrugs. “Back on the ceremony day, you didn’t look so good standing up there, and His Highness told us everything happened really uh … ‘suddenly.’’ More air-quotes, whatever they mean this time.
    “If you mean I wasn’t really asked to become the Herald, then yes.” Your arms drop back to your side. “It was suddenly.”
    Sylvain watches you for a moment, and again, there’s this look in his eyes; the need to say something he can’t. He kneads the back of his nape, avoiding your eyes. “All I’m trying to say is … having that Crest out of nothing is cool. Probably. And maybe terrifying? And just—”
    You grow impatient. “Come on, get the words out, Sylvain.”
    “A Crest isn’t just this nice letter of invitation to a privileged life. Just take care, is all I’m saying.”
    And there’s another page to the book of surprises with Sylvain’s name on it. The immediate lack of response catches him off guard; it’s like he only notices now that the vital part to understand this conversation is missing: The source of his doubt towards Crests.
    Sylvain’s body turns in a split second, his feet facing the direction he’s ready to bold towards, but this time you stand in his way and block him off. “Sylvain, are you okay?”
    He blinks in confusion, then furrows his eyebrows in deep thought like you demanded he recites the Ten Heroes from memory or else fails classes. His face contorts with the effort of looking fine. “Why, yes! Just peachy. Why would you think something is off?”
    “Because I have eyes in my skull.”
    “Very pretty eyes, if I dare say.” His answer comes out like a fire spell, hard and fast, seemingly more instinct than anything else. He clears his throat and scratches his chin, loosing momentum. “Goddess, I am bad at this.”
    “You are.” No need to sugar coat it. “If something happened, just say it.”
    “Nothing really happened, I just—” He exhales audibly and stares into space for a long minute, before side stepping you without difficulty. “Actually, I remembered Professor wanted to see me after class. Something about extra lessons about eh. Horse riding. Yeah. I’ll catch you later, Herald.” He winks and bolds away, darting under your outstretched arm before you can catch him. For someone this tall, he’s surprisingly agile and fast, already disappearing behind a tall hedge towards the main building.
    If that wasn’t the strangest conversation you’ve held with anyone, you don’t know what might excel that. Maybe it’s time you stop avoiding Sylvain.
    The Training Grounds smells of sweat and oil. Many students and knights train, which is surprising at this kind of hour, the short break between afternoon and evening classes. You’d like to know what they’re working on, but Byleth doesn’t tolerate inattention in a classroom or on the battle field, and demands you do push-ups each time your eyes wander somewhere off. You hate her a little for that. For whatever reason, Claude has taken on the role of your partner in crime, and does whatever necessary to make Byleth punish him as well.
    “What can I say, I like a good workout,” he said when you asked. He didn’t even try to hide his lie, looking as miserable as you felt. Probably hating Byleth a little as well.
    It’s the fourth week of private training with her and the house leaders, and so far you can definitely say that you were not meant to fight on the field. You see how your opponent moves, you can somehow predict what they’re going to do next—but your body simply protests to act accordingly. You stumble, you fall, you need a second too long to get up and before you can do anything, a training sword is at your throat. Byleth always looks like she wants to facepalm her fist through her forehead. Or yours.
    “Herald, this is not how you disarm someone,” she says, as always, and demonstrates it in one smooth, swift movement, as always. You blow hair out of your eyes, knowing you’re about to fail again. At least that gave Claude a reason to give you a new nickname, though if it’s better than the last is debatable.
    “You gotta twist your wrist, duckling!” he calls from the other side of the hall, immediately drawing Byleth’s attention to him. He and Dimitri are facing off, both wielding a spear which should give Dimitri the upper hand. So far, he hasn’t landed a single hit on Claude.
    “Keep your elbows in!” Byleth berates Claude. “Stop flapping them like some kind of chicken.”
    Claude lets out a disturbingly convincing cluck.
    You raise an eyebrow. “At least someone’s having fun.”
    Byleth sighs. “He’s going to get himself killed sooner than later.”
    “I don’t know. He’s managed so far, hasn’t he?”
    “I’m not sure if it’s a talent or a fault.” She turns back to you and nods her chin towards the side. “Take a break. I’m going to see how the boys are doing.”
    You nod, tensing all over because that’s where Edelgard is currently standing and picking out a training axe. You haven’t talked to her since lunch, and you can do without it for a couple more hours. She barely glances at you when you walk over, and instead checks out the edge of the wooden blade, turning it left and right.
    “Is she as strict in the classroom as in here?” you ask, unable to go on in awkward silence. Edelgard hums, throwing a quick glance towards Byleth from under her long, white lashes. “She’s systematic and consistent. Capable in both fields. I have no reason to raise any kind of complaint.”
    “That’s impressive.” You sure as heck still wouldn’t want her as a teacher. “Even though she’s been pushed into all this, she handles it like she’s never done anything else.”
    “I think as a mercenary, she is used to changing approaches depending on the employer.” Edelgard is still looking at Byleth. Reading her expression is impossible, and you don’t want to point out that sticking a sword into thieves and bandits is not the same as teaching kids how to fight in a battle. Her head whips to you suddenly, and she considers the training sword in your hand. “Speaking of different approaches,” she continues, “have you considered that your field of combat might be magic?”
    You have, so the answer comes immediately. “Chances are higher I set myself on fire.” You stare at her. “I didn’t mean it to rhyme.”
    Edelgard ignores your last comment. “But you haven’t really tried it out, have you?” Your lack of response is answer enough for her, and she nods like that proves a point.
    It’s complicated. You haven’t really tried it out because … the simple answer is, you’re afraid. It gets tricky once you try to search for the answer to that. There’s just a strange sensation when you try to use magic, like there’s a vast sea of possibilities and one step inside is enough to get you lost. It isn’t as bad with wind spells or white magic. You haven’t touched Fire spells because a crippling fear chills you to the bones every time you manage to nourish a small flame inside your palm—the complete opposite to Dark magic. When you tried a MiasmaΔ for the first time it felt strangely … secure. The rope tying you to a shore, it had felt like—
    There’s a loud crash when the spears collide and Claude knocks Dimitri off his feet. The whole room is silent as everyone watches how Claude taps the blunt end of his practice spear against Dimitri’s chin. “Steady on there, darling,” he says with a smug grin. Dimitri flushes bright red, and pushes with more force than necessary the spear away, quickly climbing to his feet.
    “That wasn’t bad.” Byleth quickly steps in before Dimitri can throttle Claude. “Dimitri, you rely too much on your brute strength. That’s a big disadvantage against someone like Claude. And you, young man,” she turns to Claude who’s been smiling victoriously, “are scheming too much and lose time to take action. In a serious battle, you won’t be as lucky as today.”
    “Noted.” Claude whirls his spear from left to right, almost dropping it when Dimitri drills his elbow into his side. “But in a serious battle, I won’t be upfront. I’ll be hanging back nicely, and skewing my enemies with a myriad of arrows.”
    “You can barely shoot three at the same time,” Dimitri grumbles, his cheeks still splotched with red specks.
    “You wanna bet—”
    “That’s enough, guys, save it for then next round.” Byleth ignores their sulky expressions and turns to you, raising a single eyebrow. The message is clear. What are you waiting for?
    Your feet feel like they’re glued to the ground. Edelgard doesn’t hesitate at all. “Let’s go.”
    She strides in the middle, training axe raised. It’s made out of wood, but you don’t doubt that she’s able to severe a limb from your body if she only tries hard enough—and what you know of Edelgard is that she alwaysexceeds even her own expectations. You grip your sword tighter. It’s a clear disadvantage, but better than anything else you can handle. Maybe it won’t be as bad.
    The fight lasts for about seven seconds. The moment you raise the blade, Edelgard is on you and unleashes fierce strike after strike, the power behind each hit forcing you back. She doesn’t bat an eyelash when she easily disarms you, the wooden sword flying over your heads and the edge of her axe on your throat. Somewhere behind her, you hear Byleth sigh. “Again.”
    The next hour is torture. Edelgard throws you to the ground, again and again. Byleth keeps telling you to get up, again and again. One might think they would cut you some slack, being the Herald and all, but it feels like Edelgard is so much more aggressive today because you’re the Herald. Or maybe it’s personal. Maybe she’s appointed you to be her sworn enemy, and won’t miss out any chance to make it as hard as possible for you.
    This isn’t fun. Being watched by Dimitri and Claude, who whisper conspiratorially to each other isn’t fun. Luckily, Byleth notices them gawking and bellows them to focus on working on their stances. Right now, you’re thankful nothing escapes her eyes and she calls her students out on their bullshit. It doesn’t make your current situation easier though. Every muscle burns, just raising the sword is exhausting and your feet feel like they’re about to give out any second. This must be hell.
    When Byleth finally ends lessons, you ignore everything and crumble to the ground, splaying your limbs out in all directions. Surely they can clean up without you, two hands less will barely make any difference.
    A shadow settles over you. You know who it is, and don’t bother to open your eyes. “Go away, Byleth. I don’t want to hear how bad I am.”
    “Personally, I think you have improved, Herald.” Your eyes snap open. Dimitri looks down at you, his forehead still glistening from perspiration. “But facing Edelgard as an opponent usually wields those results. Don’t let it bother you.”
    You want to point out that he and Claude don’t seem to have as much problems as you, even though yes, none of them have defeated her yet in practice. He goes down to your level and sits beside you, and you hate how this all barely made him breath hard, like it’s just a stroll around the monastery whereas you’re trying to climb the mountains surrounding it.
    “I think she hates me,” you blurt out. Luckily, most students have already left the hall, Edelgard included. Dimitri considers this a moment, and you don’t know what to make of his lack of immediate response.
    “I doubt she hates you,” he finally says.
    “But?”
    “But she has a hard time warming up to people. Give her time. Once the ice is broken, you will see that her personality is one you’d like to have around.”
    “Oh?” You watch him for a moment, but Dimitri doesn’t blush or look away. It was a heartfelt, sincere statement, which flusters you for some reason. No one should be that honest.
    “Talking about breaking ice. Do you know if something happened to Sylvain?”
    “Sylvain?” Dimitri raises both eyebrows. “Please don’t tell me he harassed you in some kind of way.”
    “No, no, he just—” You finally get up from lying on your back, and try to explain it by frantically moving your hands. Dimitri still looks puzzled. “He said some weird things about Crests in general?”
    “Hm.” Dimitri stares at your hands for a moment, then quickly raises his eyes back to your face. “It’s complicated.” Well, that answer is as good as none. “And I won’t go into details without his consent. I can only say that if he talked about Crests, in whichever way, his brother must have upset him again.”
    “He has a brother?” Now you’re wide awake. Many students have siblings. You know of Hilda’s brother and Raphael’s sister. It shouldn’t surprise you Sylvain has one as well even though he’s never mentioned it before.
    “Do you have siblings?” you ask, generously curious. As heir to a kingdom, it’s hard to imagine his parents would have settled with one child. But he hasn’t mentioned any sisters or brothers as well.
    “Hmm, I have a step-sister,” he says, although very hesitant and you can see if someone doesn’t want to talk about a specific topic. He doesn’t return the question, which is kind of him and makes you wonder … maybe you have a sibling as well. Somewhere. Maybe somewhere in Adrestia or Leicester a younger brother or an older sister is currently looking for you, unrelenting in their journey to be reunited at last. The thought alone brings a flicker of hope alive. Maybe they'll come once word of the Herald’s return travels far enough.
    “I guess as long as Sylvain doesn’t disturb classes or acts out of order, I would leave him to his brooding. I can tell out of experience, only Felix is capable of cheering him up.”
    “Felix?” Your eyebrows rise to your hairline. “Are we talking about the same Felix?”
    A smile forms on Dimitri’s mouth. “I understand why imagining that might prove difficult, but I assure you, Felix is one of the view exceeding in handling the mess Sylvain is from time to time.”
    “Felix and Ingrid?” you guess, earning a nod from Dimitri. “Ingrid is a very nice girl,” you continue, picking at a loose thread from your uniform. “But Felix seems detests me. Every time he sees me, he looks like he wants to throw his sword at me.”
    “That is—” Dimitri stops mid-sentence. “That might be not so far off from his true intentions.”
    You groan.
    “But I assure you it is for a different reason than you think. Felix is simply … difficult with people holding a commanding position.”
    “He doesn’t seem to have the same problem with Byleth,” you point out. No, whenever he trains with her, he manages something close to a smile and accepts her guidance. Then again, she isn’t his teacher.
    “I’m sure you’ll be able to make him consider his opinion on you during the Mock Battle. I as well am looking forward to how you will guide us.” Dimitri beams. You stare at him like he’s just lost his head.
    “What?”
    “The Mock Battle three nights from today?” Dimitri’s smile falters a little. “Have the Professor and Lady Rhea not told you yet? You are to participate in the Mock Battle as the commanding unit of the Blue Lions.” Now he’s pulling his eyebrows together in worry. “Herald?”
    “I—” You jump to your feet. “I have to go.” Go far far away. Just yesterday you introduced the students to the tactic called Feigned Withdrawal, which involves staging a retreat in order to induce the enemy to abandon its position and plunge ahead in an attack. Dimitri abandons his position, getting up to go after you, but instead of turning back to surprise him with an ambush, you flee the battle and hope the enemy doesn’t pursue.
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fe-semi-decent-scenarios · 4 years ago
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oooh could you do protective headcanons for the golden deer too??🥺
{I most certainly can. Y’all know I love these tropes so keep ‘em coming. Hope it’s to your liking! :3}
Claude: 
6/10
Neutral, with just a tad bit of nerves. 
Look. Claude has bigger fish to fry than what you’re gallivanting on about during the day. The man has a dream to catch with literally a country and 1/3 (woot woot alliance) on his shoulders. 
First, the future. Then, you. Can’t have a life together if there is no place for it to be had, yeah? 
This doesn’t mean that he never worries about you. Quite the contrary, if he begins then he can’t stop. So he doesn’t tinker the thought. 
Instead he has his most trusted allies at your back. During the Academy days you were left under Hilda’s watchful eye, and during the war you are always nearby (courtesy of matchmaker Prof.Byleth) 
Once he puts a ring on it you’ll have guards. No problem. 
He also trusts your own capabilities. One doesn’t train every day to walk out with nothing  
Also
You make me laugh if you think Claude believes you’ll ever cheat on him 
Not that he’s cocky okay, maybe a bit  but no one would dare put the moves on “The Master Tactician’s” s/o
Any suitor coming your way is peasant fodder. If not to him, than to your own personal retaliation. 
Yupp, nothing to worry about. You’ve got it covered. He’ll only step in if you physically come ask him 
and with a bit of teasing he’ll comply 
However, Claude is very sensitive to illness for obvious reasons. This is why he’s listed at a six. He always insists on tasting your food
It was a gimmick at first, and in the beginning he’d make banter to sneak a bite while you remain all unknowing of his true intentions 
He’ll be damned if someone ever poisons you. They won’t ever get the chance
Ignatz: 
9/10
Let us face it. Iggy is a worry-wart.
He freaks out over the most minuscule of situations. The poor lad nearly gets a heart attack at least once a day 
And no, i’m not just referring to his pre-timeskip self. Ignatz may have grown a head taller, got a backbone, fancy harem artist pants--but no, he did not lose his inner anxious zealot. That trait will cling until the day he dies sadly 
Having you at his side only makes things worse (in a good way. The trouble is worth it to him) 
Especially if you’re more of the risky sort. Expect him to mother hen if you cause ruckus around the monastery. He can and will lecture you to death (only to apologize and hide away after)
Now not only does he worry about his own issues, but also yours. I swear Ignatz acts like you are his second being. If someone scolds you, hurts you, etc. he acts like they did it to him 
Can be a bit dramatic, not gonna lie. He gets so worked up that his ears go red. Like, you can just t e l l he’s holding so much back because he doesn’t want to go too far
Don’t even get me started on if someone tries to make a move on you 
He becomes t o r n. It isn’t his place to tell you who to hang around, but ohmygodwhatifyourealizeheisn’tgoodenough 
iggy no, bad iggy. don’t think like that
He feels threatened so easily and not many would peg him the jealous type. He is, but hides it very well. 
If need be he will talk out his feelings with you. That’s something noteworthy of Ignatz: he uses his words. He may find communicating such thoughts aloud difficult, but if he truly is concerned then he will be honest with you.  
Raphael: 
10/10
Raphael believes in trust. He expects you to be honest and to not keep anything important secret. In return he’ll do the same. 
This is why he doesn’t care if someone is flirting. He could give less of a thought on gossip, rumors, or anything really. That effort can go towards training 
He truly, honest to Sothis, trusts you with all his heart. There isn’t any time to spend doing otherwise. Raph just wants to live happily and that means having you by his side 
Nor does he feel intimidated by anyone else either. I’m not saying that he reeks of resolved confidence, but Raph believes that you love him. Love topples any mindless flirting that other people throw your way 
but let’s get one thing straight 
If anybody, and I mean ANYBODY, tries to hurt you 
This guy’s having them for b r e a k f a s t. Pounded, sliced, and Smoked. The same way he liked his bacon. 
You are his family. Raphael protects his family, and those he cares about. 
You will never be alone. Goddess if you cry and someone else is the cause then he will take action. One fault of Raph is that while he’s a sweetie, he doesn’t think before acting a lot. Similar to Caspar, he just goes for it 
It takes a lot to get underneath Raph’s skin. 
In short: do not f*ck with his loved ones. He would take on Nemisis himself mono-e-mono if it meant protecting them 
Lorenz: 
8/10
Y’all going to sit there and try to convince me that Lorenz Hellman Gloucester doesn’t try to establish dominance? 
Key word: try
He’s quickly shut down
“Lorenz if you tell one more person that we’re betrothed, I swear that I’ll shave off your eyebrows” - You, one month post-confession 
Saying that you’re his perfect match is no excuse. Considering all the preaching he does on noble humility, you’d think he would want your private affairs off the notice board? 
It doesn’t take long for your peers to start complaining. Claude finds his behavior entertaining, but not a day goes by that someone doesn’t beg you to make him shut up 
Lorenz is also a bit old fashioned. He doesn’t like the idea of you fighting more than necessary
Once again, shut down 
Best way to deal with Lorenz is to let him think he has his way, then just do whatever. He gets upset, pouts, spouts his normal lecture, but then relents. All in due process with him 
Never thought I’d say this, but perhaps requesting not to be in the same troop together is the best option? You’d think he would fight better with an S tier relationship at his side? Nahhh. HE TAKES YOUR KILLS IT IS NOT FAIR 
He gives too much attention to what you’re doing, and not the enemy. Best if you stay separated
Ugh pray no one hits on you in front of him. Just... *screams* I don’t think anyone will, just to avoid him getting defensive. I swear the other deer take extensive preventative measures to avoid it.  
Hilda:
6/10
C’mon. This is Hilda we’re talking about 
You two most likely grew closer because she “asks” you for help so often 
Just like Claude, she has bigger fish to fry. The last type of person she wants to be is Holst (she loves him though don’t misinterpret that)
She does worry though 
Not enough to make her take the front lines, but a smidgen. Just to where you’ll get periodic check in’s 
Nothing obvious. A simple “what’s going on?”  as she inquired about your well-being 
A precarious scan-over as she checks for any new scars
She does get jealous though. There’s an entire castle full of available people and someone chooses to flirt with you? 
That just doesn’t make sense. Perhaps the “once something is taken it becomes more desirable,” saying has some truth 
She’s quite the clinger. You’ll just be walking and suddenly, BOOM, bubble-gum pink arm-candy in the corner of your vision
Once you two bypass the ‘puppy-love’ early stages, she changes. 
Despite her negligence beforehand, she does become overprotective   
Will fight if needed. Say you have a paralogue? Just so happens she was nearby and wants to tag along 
She also has to protect you from Holst. My dear, you cannot do that yourself. Brotherly wrath beseeches you, my god. Run dude run 
Marianne: 
3/10
A possessive streak is nonexistent in her blood. Such thing is a personal fear of her’s. Marianne refuses to conform to the stereotypes associated with her crest 
However, she does believe that one day you may leave her side. Marianne isn’t the most confident person. She...doubts 
Often does she wonder if you’re there solely to make her hurt. To love her and then one day disappear without a trace 
Anxieties like so will not go away overnight. She will not seek reassurance, which makes her more uncommunicative than most partners 
but no one is perfect. Neither are you. All you personally can do is politely decline any advances, and do your best to let Marianne know that you love her 
She isn’t particularly protective in any other sense either. She’ll heal you if needed, but special attention isn’t there
Marianne treats being a healer like how an ER doctor operates. On the field, everyone is equal. She is needed everywhere and cannot stay by your side. Otherwise lives will be lost, and that won’t be good for her conscience.
The same goes for all other aspects. If you’re gone, then you’re gone. If you’re sick, then you’re sick. She cannot give you special attention and acts in accordance to severity of the situation. Patients cannot be weighed in value via personal bias 
She has a surprisingly strong sense of self control, let me tell ya.
Lysithea:
7/10
She...does not have much time. Entering a romantic relationship was not a possibility that crossed her mind once before you 
Why bother when the ending is certain? Why leave someone brokenhearted, or a widow? Why give herself that extra stress when she’s already under so much as it is?
You can’t blame her for being extra cautious. While her life may be hanging on a string, that doesn’t mean yours has to end 
After some time she develops a resolve. If needed she would gladly lay her life down if it meant you could live another day 
A problematic conclusion. You two will argue often over how she cannot trade a ‘life for a life,’ just because of her special circumstances. Her mind always enforces that it’s the logical decision, and has trouble recognizing her own value
I suppose that comes with being a know-it-all, huh? Once her mind is set then there is no changing it 
Despite her brain sending all the signals that acting on jealousy is wrong...well, we know Lysithea 
She won’t come out and say she gets protective for your sake. Apparently anyone flirting with you already had business with her
Business that miraculously unfolds once you leave. Then suddenly they no longer have an interest? 
What’d she do? Threaten to shove a thoron up their rectum? No one knows 
Leonie: 
9/10 
She is the mom who’d create a strict morning routine for her kids to follow before school 
Or a thorough itinerary on a vacation 
Not a moment or bullion to be wasted! 
Cannot express enough how much this girl cares. She can become annoying from all the interference, but you’ll never become a bum with her in your life 
You might want to ask her to butt out. Remind her that you’re not one of the kids from her village, and that you can handle yourself 
Sometimes you’ll joke and say “yes mom,” because she gets b o s s y 
Which will earn you either: a) a glare, or b) her playing along and confusing everyone else 
So in a sense, yeah she’s protective. Overbearing in her own Leonie way 
Not the jealous type. Leonie doesn’t look at what other people have, and instead focuses on her own life. If someone wants to shamelessly throw themselves at your feet then that’s their issue. You know better than to cheat on her 
I can see her complaining to the captain or to Byleth though. Why waste time when the issue can easily be solved? Obviously someone with the time to flirt has time to do training drills  
Bonus! Cyril: (because during my first play-through I kept expecting GD to take him under their wing. They did not, and Nintendo missed out.) 
5/10
He personally hates being treated like a child. When someone doesn’t take him seriously Cyril’s self restraint goes b o o m 
So he won’t do that to you. You’re a capable individual and that’s that. Nothing more for him to interfere with 
His only protective streak lies when you’re incapable of doing things yourself. Aka: injured, ill, resting, etc. 
He’ll nag you for not being careful, but it’s not hard to miss the tears pricking his eyes 
He’s also very perceptive towards break-in’s. Many people have tried to kidnap/assassinate people of higher standing. He’s witnessed many attempts towards lady Rhea. I see him taking night shifts for patrol often, and after the war the habit sticks with him.
He takes a lot onto his shoulders often. It’s not bad. Being dedicated is an admirable trait, yet if you’re down someone will have to stop him from picking up the slack. 
He’s no healer, and leaves that job to the professionals. However he doesn’t want anyone to disturb you with the work your missing. So he’ll do it in your stead 
Manuela lets him stay in the infirmary past visitation hours. Mostly because he’s so busy during the day that he can’t come by 
He won’t return to his room those nights. He prefers to be by your side, just in case. 
Other than this type of situation- no, he’s not protective in the slightest.  
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merakilyy · 5 years ago
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Step, Two, Three
Pairing: Dimileth (Fire Emblem: Three Houses) Tags: Wedding, fluff, so much fluff aiyaaa Summary: The first time Dimitri and Byleth see Claude after the war is during their wedding. A conversation is had.
~~~
The first time in her life Byleth ever really got all dolled up with makeup and hair and a fancy dress and jewelry was for her wedding.
As royal tradition insisted, Byleth and Dmitri had very little input in their own wedding. This was mostly agreeable to them. With the war still in recent memory, Dimitri’s new kingly advisors all agreed to hold Dimitri and Byleth’s wedding, their coronation as King and Queen of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and Byleth’s official inception as the new Archbishop of Seiros in quick succession so as to give the people of Fodlan joyous memories to hold onto. With so much rebuilding to do, Dimitri and Byleth had readily agreed to this succession, thinking that getting the formalities out of the way so quickly would allow them to return to their rebuilding effort sooner. 
Dimitri and Byleth’s influence was limited to the date, a handful of extra invitations, and -- with Dimitri’s insistence -- the rings. The rings were the one part of their wedding where Dimitri refused to give in. Dimitri had been adamant for their mutual exchange of rings as equals and with the support of Houses Gautier, Fraldarius, Dominic, Galatea, and Charon behind him, even the most reserved noble did not dare voice their objection to Byleth’s elevation as Dimitri’s equal.
Given that Byleth was now a war hero and the new Archbishop of Seiros, any dissenters were few and far between.
Earlier, prior to the ceremony when she stood in before the full length mirror clad in all her wedding finery, was the first time Byleth could genuinely say she cared about her appearance. She hadn’t cared much for the specifics of her wedding, even leaving the design of her dress to Mercedes and Annette, but Byleth couldn’t help the pleasure that bubbled within her as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror.
Mercedes and Annette had pulled through with a stunning dress, even with limited supplies in the post-war months. White lace sleeves covered Byleth’s arms but a dip in the back left her battle scars proudly on display. The royal blue sash that cinched her waist matched the hue of Dimitri’s uniform.
Their coordination was such that Claude commented on it as he spun Byleth around the dance floor.
“So you and Dimitri, huh? Quite the pair you two make.”
Byleth smiled, allowing herself to express the full extent of her joy. “Are you surprised?”
“Me? Never,” Claude winked. He stopped speaking momentarily as he twirled Byleth away and resumed as she twirled back in. “We all suspected something between you and Dimitri back in our academy days. We all knew you were both too mindful of the rules and of Lady Rhea to do anything about it then, but there were definitely a good number of wagers on how long it would take until you got together. I had some good money on when Sylvain and Felix would get together as well. Shame that the war interrupted everything.”
Byleth’s smile dimmed at the reminder of the years Dimitri suffered alone while she laid under the rubble. “The war was unfortunate,” she said, reserved.
Luckily, Claude recognized the hint. “Ah, but we shouldn’t dwell on the past! This is your wedding and you look much too beautiful to not be glowing!”
Byleth laughed. “Well, Duke Riegan, flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Ain’t that the truth, Teach,” Claude grinned, winking at Byleth again. “Former Duke Riegan, that is,” he corrected Byleth.
Soon after, the song came to an end. Claude stepped back and bowed just as Dimitri approached. 
“Well, Teach,” Claude rose from his bow. Nodding at Dimitri, he continued, “I really do appreciate the dance. I didn’t think I’d be back so soon after just leaving Fodlan. Not that I had any doubt you would defeat Edelgard in the time you did. If anyone could stop her, it would be you, Teach. But, I mean, I just didn’t think I would have a reason to come back so soon regardless of the war. Selfish of me, of course, but I wasn’t expecting to be around for the rebuilding efforts. The best thing for the Leicester Alliance was entrust them to you.”
Dimitri stepped into their discussion then and Byleth slipped her arm around his, linking their elbows together. Dimitri turned to smile down at her before nodding at Claude. 
“Claude,” Dimitri reached out and patted Claude’s shoulder in greeting, “I am thankful that you have put your travels on hold to return to Fodlan for our festivities.”
“Hey, hey, hey, no need to get all formal on me now, Dimitri! You know it would take a lot more than a handful of Almyran bandits to stop me from coming to your wedding. ‘Sides, when was the last time all of Fodlan had something this big to celebrate together?”
There was truth to Claude’s words. Unfortunately, this came at the expense of Dimitri and Byleth. In their rush to raise morale throughout Fodlan, the entire royal court at Fhirdiad and all of Garreg Mach had been scrambling to pull together so much in such short succession in just a few short weeks. Despite their lack of input, both Byleth and Dimitri were already exhausted by the time their wedding rolled around.
“Oh Goddess, don’t remind me,” Dimitri groaned. “These past weeks have simply been exhaustingly hectic with all the ceremonial planning. Would you believe that our wedding has been the most relaxing day for the both of us in weeks? And it will remain so at least until the end of the moon!”
“Wow, Dimitri, not planning to relax for your honeymoon? I didn’t think you had it in you, but you have my congratulations!” Claude wriggled his eyebrows in the most ridiculous, exaggerated manner. 
Dimitri flushed at Claude’s crude implications but Byleth, having grown up with the crassness of mercenaries, simply laughed. Her free hand rose to rest on Dimitri’s bicep.
“No, Claude,” Byleth corrected, eyes still twinkling with laughter. “We will not be having a honeymoon. There is no time for one, what with all the ceremonies, and we will be travelling back to Garreg Mach immediately after the coronation. Then we will be taking a tour of all of Fodlan to survey the damage for ourselves and visit the subsidiary churches.”
Claude shook his head, “you two really are still the same. Always working so hard, working so selflessly. I really do respect that. After all, your selflessness is what got me out of my tight spot in Derdriu during the War. But I’ve got to say, Dimitri, marriage and kingliness really does suit you. You look much better now.”
“It is all thanks to my beloved Byleth,” Dimitri said gently, looking at Byleth with his love and adoration blatantly spelled out on his face. “It is thanks to Byleth that I have been pulled out of the darkness.”
Byleth’s expression was far more reserved -- though she felt no less love than Dimitri, she was still not the most expressive person. “You do not give yourself enough credit, my love,” Byleth said gently, her adoration as clear as day to those who knew her. 
“Woah woah woah there,” Claude held his up before him and jokingly took a few steps back before Dimitri could respond with any further declarations of love. “I only came here for the food and festivities! And to visit some old friends, of course, but not to be victim to your newlywed hormones!”
Again, Dimitri’s cheeks flushed. “It was an honour to see you again, Claude. The von Riegen seat in our Assembly of Nobles remains vacant for whenever you so desire to return. It is good to see you well. Travelling suits you as well, as does the sun.”
“House Blaiddyd will receive you with open arms whenever your travels return you to Fodlan,” Byleth said diplomatically. She removed her arm from Dimitri’s so that she could bow to Claude. 
“Hey, hey, none of these stiff formalities either! I didn’t come all this way to talk to a statue!” Claude drove his point home by gathering Dimitri and Byleth in a bone-crushing bug. Both Byleth and Dimitri reciprocated, laughing, unconcerned about any disapproving nobles watching.
Once they had said their farewells, Claude stepped away to join Hilda in reconnecting with their old house members. 
For a moment, Byleth and Dimitri simply stood there, watching Claude’s back fade into the crowd.
Dimitri spoke first, “My beloved, as much as I have enjoyed our wedding festivities, I dearly wish to spend some time with my darling wife now. Is that agreeable to her?”
Byleth slipped her around Dimitri’s arm again, reconnecting them. “That is very agreeable to her. Let us say our farewells before we leave. And Dimitri?”
Dimitri tilted his head in acknowledgement of her address.
“I love you, my darling King. And I am ever so grateful to the Goddess for allowing us this moment and our future together.”
Dimitri pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of Byleth’s head in response, his lips brushing her hairline beneath her new crown. “I love you too, Byleth. Thank you for giving me this happiness that I thought for so long was lost to me.”
~~~
Fluffytalk: This is kind of terrible and I’m embarrassed to be posting this but also I just finished the Blue Lions route. I’m now watching my brother play Golden Deer and I miss my Blue Lions babies and need all the fluff.
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parf-fan · 6 years ago
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2018 in-house shows posted!
Once more, no mention on their facebook page or in their emails, but I suppose that’s what I’m here for.  If you go to PARF’s website, you’ll find that the list of in-house shows has at last been updated for this season.  I took the liberty of copy-pasting it all here nonetheless.
King’s Court King Henry and Queen Catherine host the visiting king and queen of France. Never before have so many monarchs gathered upon a Mt. Hope stage! Will the Master of Revels, Sir Walter Roderick Kensington, be up to the task of entertaining four royals? Join them at the Endgame stage, and watch the saga of the Field of Cloth of Gold commence!
(I am so pleased that they specifically mentioned the question of whether Sir Walter will be able to cope with four monarchs.)
Human Chess King Henry and King Francis, in the spirit of friendly competition, have agreed to match wits in a game of Human Chess. All the denizens of Mt. Hope, from lowly peasants to noble knights, will take the board as members of the kings’ armies. But as the ring of steel fills their ears, and the thrill of battle heats their blood, will the contest stay friendly for long?
(I didn’t read the above description, for it undoubtedly contains what would count as spoilers to me.)
Ultimate Joust
As the sun sets upon Bosworth Field, four knights will meet in mounted combat, as a crowd of thousands looks on. Come and cheer for your favorite knight; thrill to the pounding hooves and the clash of steed and steel. Join the royal court and all the villagers of the Shire, in the epic Ultimate Joust that has made Mt. Hope famous.
(I didn’t read the above description, for it undoubtedly contains what would count as spoilers to me.)
Finale in Song
As the festival day draws to a close, the town gathers for a final celebration of song, dance, and laughter. Join King Henry and Queen Catherine, along with King Francis and Queen Claude of France, and the entire town of Mt. Hope, in a village event that reveals the very heart of the Shire.
(I didn’t read the above description, for it undoubtedly contains what would count as spoilers to me.)
Grand MacGuffin Melee Good Master MacGuffin has not had much luck with his establishment. It seems like every new business venture he tries always winds up in a massive brawl. But this time, he has decided to attract a fancier sort of clientele. Come attend the grand opening of MacGuffin’s Gallerie of Fine Arte. With such a high-class aspiration, what could possibly go wrong?
(I’d finished reading this before I registered that it was for a show I consider storyline, and therefore didn’t want spoilers for.  That said, this can only end well.)
Disasterpiece Theatre The Master of Revels, Sir Walter Roderick Kensington, has assembled the shire's best performers (who had nothing else going on at the time) to delight our guests with a masterpiece on the stage. They present a different modern story with a 16th century twist every weekend; and of course when Sir Walter tries to get something done-- anything that can go wrong will go wrong. It will truly be a Disasterpiece!
(As soon as I’d read the title and the fact that the description starts with naming Sir Walter, I was already dying with laughter.  I am so glad that character and his particular style of overwroughtness managed to become so iconic.  This promises to be fantastic.  I predict that they will definitely adapt Mean Girls, if nothing else.  I also vote for an adaptation of Newsies.  Les Mis would be great, but I dunno that that counts as “modern”, and it’s also a little long, ya kno?)
Bloody Best Attend the tale of Shakespeare’s Macbeth, He Who Would be King of Scotland. ‘Tis forty minutes of brutal combat, murder most foul, and disturbingly comic violence. And blood. There will be blood.
(B l o o d y B e s t i s t h e S c o t t i s h P l a y.  Which should be interesting, because the entirety of the grounds count as a theatre, and it’s only safe to name the play if it’s in the script.  So what if someone tries to interact with the performers regarding the contents of Bloody Best after the show is over?  Would improvised interaction be close enough to keep them safe?  Or will it call down the curse if they are forced to utter it in that circumstance?  And if the latter is true, will they then be able to get to the edge of the grounds / the gate into the performer-only area [that is, leave the theatre] in time to be able to perform the ritual to lift the curse?  Most importantly, am I cruel enough to put this to the test?)
The Sirens The pirate crew of the Relentless Contessa is out for blood and gold...on any other normal day, but today, they are taking a break to demonstrate their fierce musicality, daring boldness, and filthy pirate jests!
(THE SIRENS ARE PYRATES THIS TIME AT LAST FINALLY YESYESYES I HAVE BEEN WANTING THIS FOR YEEEEAAAARRRRS!!!) (No Bloody Shame [THE BLOODY SHAME!] though. I’m sad.)
The Rakish Rogues What happens when two French Nobles and two English Nobles are employed by Their Majesties to entertain the masses? They don't know either! Watch these charming nobles sing revelrous songs and regale you with rowdy vulgarities.
(After years of the Rogues being in some of the more lightweight outfits, their day of reckoning has finally come.  Boys, welcome to the excessively  heatstroke-laden life of a noble.)
The Irish Revels The three Eugenia Sisters, proprietors of The Wild Rose Inn, are celebrating the return of their father by reassembling the family band. Join them for rousing Irish folk music and quirky family values.
(THE IRISH REVELS ARE RETURNING THE IRISH REVELS ARE RETURNING THE IRISH REVELS ARE RETUUUURNIIIIINNNNNG!!!!!) (Yo, the MacGuffin Stables and Tavern has competition!)
Friday Knights Come see our Improv Track perform feats of mental, verbal, and physical agility for your entertainment! Presented in 2 acts, the first half is a competition of comedy as 2 teams face off against each other in "Whose Line..." style improv games hoping to earn the laughs and love of our audience judges. Then, after the intermission, both teams come together to perform a completely improvised musical based on the audience's suggestion!
(Quite pleased this is back.  Rest assured I shall actually attend this time.)
Neighborhoods Kings and Queens are great and all, but what do the average citizens of Mount Hope do on a festival day? Seek out these interactive stories that you can get involved in all over the shire to find out! Provide your expert opinion at a Town Hall Meeting; help track and arrest a wanted thief (or help the thief escape!). Get involved in the happenings of Mount Hope and influence the lives of its inhabitants at these scenarios found not on stages, but in the neighborhoods all around the shire.
(So.... literally exactly what it’s always been.  It’s just listed here this time.)
Music with Their Majesties Take a break with Their Majesties, as they demonstrate Their musical merits and host the best of entertainment from the realm.
(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
Robin Hood You think you know the story of Robin Hood? You've probably never heard it like our Apprentice of Revels and her rag-tag team are going to tell it to you.
(........ Apprentice of Revels?  There’s a Apprentice of Revels now?  Sir Walter has a hecking apprentice this year!  I’m like really really hyped about this character’s existence.  For some reason, my mom is convinced this role is gonna be played by Katie Markey.)
Finale Dumb Show Have you missed every Plot Show during the Faire day? Did you not even know there WAS a plot? Arrive to the Globe Stage 15 minutes before Finale In Song to catch up on what happened in the silliest way possible!
(I am left with a deep-seated happiness over the Dumbshow’s return.  But they wrote it wrong.  I have it from the actors, it is oNE WORD!)
The Legend of One-Eyed Willy The Cabin Boy of the "Relentless Contessa" has been tasked with finding more members for the ship's Pirate Crew. Come join his crew, and witness the tale of the most feared pirate to ever sail the seven seas! Presented by The Mount Hope Players!
(was One-Eyed Willy aboard the original Bloody Shame [THE BLOODY SHAME!]?  That wold be a good reason to fear them.)
King's Cavalry Join the Master of Revels and The Lady Mayor for some literal horse-play on the chessboard directly before our Human Chess match! Bring your nipperkins so that they may join the King's Royal Mounted Cavalry!
(Everybody who, like me, attends King’s Cavalry because they went to Chess early to secure good seats, Y’ALL BETTER FUCKIN’ CLAP AND CHEER FOR THOSE KIDS, I SWEAR!)
King Arthur: The Legend of Murray Everyone knows that King Arthur was the Wizard Merlin's greatest apprentice, but did you know Merlin had another apprentice after Arthur? Come experience the tale of Merlin's OTHER apprentice: Murray!
(I’m gonna have to figure out how to make this fit with the canon of BBC’s Merlin, friggin’ fantastic.)
Is... is there no Tournament Joust this year then, or....
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