#support: jakob

[laslow]

"laslow."

jakobs words are polite. before him he stands, hands behind his waist, posture straight and proper. "a word."

there is a moments hesitance. as if, he ponders what to say. it is explicit hesitation, if only momentarily, eyes averting their gaze and turning to the side before meeting laslows once more. "you have certainly proven to be an interesting experience here, haven't you?"

there is a passing moment, before hands present themselves to ally - within his grasp is nothing more than a simple pair of gardening shears. familiar ones, if laslow recalls, albeit slightly used - the dirt has been wiped from the edges. "make use of these, won't you?" and it is not spoken like blatant regifting, rather, with faith. "tch. i despise sharing my gardening equipment - know this. so take it, and become adept at it for the sake of your lord."

right, that was as sincere as he would get.

"i have enjoyed our time together," is all he says, before turning on his heel. "it's been tolerable. ghost hunting antics or not."

at that, he turns away, and begins his departure. "when i see you again, i expect to see those shears worn and dirtied. it may not be long, so don't you laze about," jakob sighs. "or i'll be sorely disappointed at my misplaced faith in our…"

friendship, really.

"our allyship."

Yikes, this sounds solemn.

Laslow adopts an appropriately serious expression. "Jakob, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He cants his head to one side, blinking away the overly long strands of hair that fall across his eyes. The scoff, while quite, still escapes. Jakob always had a unique way of phrasing things.

He accepts the shears with only a small trace of skepticism. Well-loved blades glint in the afternoon light. Small amounts of caked on dirt hide within the grooves, betraying years of use and love.

All annoyance and false pretense drains from Laslow. Sincerity doesn't suit Jakob well--it's more palatable hidden behind snarky comments--but Laslow appreciates this rare showing more than he can say.

Lips quirk up into a half-smile. "I'll take good care of them. On my honor as a swordsman." How much stock Jakob will put in that, Laslow's unsure.

Ah, right. The ghost.

"I still think proposing would have helped," he teases, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. "Psh. Me, lazing about? Certainly not when it comes to flowers."

He waves to Jakob's back. "Safe travels, my friend. Say hello to Lady Corrin for me, please!"

[icedflora]

so the three of them had all been reunited again . . . what a pleasant surprise.

he stands in her doorstep , broom in-hand. uniform creases smoothed, no, ironed -- the brooch on his neck shined, clawed fingers clasped on wooden hilt and pressed against his heart. to his credit, for a man who despised mornings with every fiber of his being, he did well to make himself presentable. almost as if he did not let out an agonizing groan the moment his eyes opened and he realized, no, he did not have an extra five minutes.

the sun has not risen, but he has, with ample time to spare. as he always did, begrudgingly, though jakobs features did well to betray it. "good morning, flora, pardon my intrusion. i'm well aware it is only 4 o'clock, am, contrary to my typical 4.30." a curt nod, and he leans the broomstick against the door. did he really mean pardon? that was up to her to decide. "but i have opted to stick to my nohrian sleeping schedule of early wakefulness, and this is my only free time this morning."

eyes scan hers for signs of sleepiness. whatever he saw, he appeared content with it ( for she had either been awake by now , or at the very least , he was met with a response in the dead of morning ). "regardless . . . yes, welcome to the monastery. i'd expect felicia to be beside herself with enthusiasm," and almost on cue, it seems as if his free time was up. shuffling through the bag on his shoulder, he presents to flora a list of monastery documents. maps, his own class times, the upcoming menu. "this will certainly assist you in getting your bearings. i would hope you've been up before this hour to get ahead of things, however? surely."

on that, he turns on his heel and he shakes his head. "i've spent far too long here. i've fallen behind on schedule . . . i need to arrive to the morning markets far before anyone else."

jakob presents her a curt bow, a fleeting look of displeasure on his face. oh, he was going to have to stand in line now for an extra five minutes. disgusting. "goodbye, flora."

he takes the broom, and he leaves, closing the door as he goes.

Despite Flora's put-together presentation upon greeting her early-morning visitor, the long journey to the Monastery exhausted the former maid. The crisp knock at her door roused her from her much-needed sleep, but her years of servitude trained her body to rise quickly when summoned. Flora took exactly fourteen seconds to draw herself out of bed, smooth her hair, and pull on a dress over her nightclothes. Opening the door, though, she finds herself frozen as she stares up at Jakob: a former colleague, a dutiful butler, and the former object of youthful hopeless dreams. They were fleeting hopes of a naive girl, and life has wisened Flora up to useless dreams of a future that cannot exist in the same realm as duty and destiny.

"Ah, good morning, Jakob," Flora manages to greet him before he thrusts papers into her hands, which she accepts with a slight nod, her gray gaze flitting over the documents. Nearby, crickets chirp in accompaniment with Jakob's early-morning rambling. She nods her head again and smiles. despite the lie on her tongue "Yes, I was already up thinking about what tea to drink this morning." She chuckles behind her hand politely at his expression as he frets over his delayed arrival at the market. Some things never change, it appears.

"I hope the market trip is fruitful despite your delays!" she calls after him as he makes his departure. "Thank you for the documents!" The words are barely spoken before the door shuts and Flora heaves a sigh, setting the papers aside on her bedside table to crawl back under the covers for some much-needed slumber. She will be a proper student when the sun rises.

[duskofendflame]

jakob was worried. in fact, he hadn't so much as slept a wink the night prior. despite this, he managed to peel himself from his bed with ambition - he simply had to prove to corrin he was one of the finest retainers there is. that, corrin needn't worry about a thing as long as jakob was present.

"lord corrin !" jakob speaks with happiness, a genuine smile on his face. hands straighten cravat, and he is well-aware his braid is impeccable. it was 6:00 am in the morning. "i have tended to the gardens around and about your dormitory, washed your clothes and dried them, tidied your room and living area as you slept, straightened your daytime clothes and scented them with lavender,"

he has been going since 3:00 am.

"prepared a nighttime dessert for you - it is still setting. steeped your tea the exact amount as you desire, set about your task list for the day, pre-graded your papers - ah, but i did it in pencil, so you can correct them. i did them kindly, as you insist, but it should save you time."

maybe even 2:00 am?

"oh, and your breakfast. here," he walks out the door, before pushing in a tray with a rather excessive and impressive array of foods. his eye twitches. if this wasn't enough to show corrin that he could butler far better than dwyer, then what would . . . ? "whatever you don't finish, i will gladly hand to others to ensure none go to waste. all of it is fresh, homemade and using only the finest of ingredients."

he sets the tray onto the side table, and bows. "if there is anything else you desire, simply let me know."

as he faces the floor, his eye twitches again. there has to be more that he can do. there has to be. "on that note, i've since returned from lilium. it was fine. i brought you souvenirs from the journey, of course."

"Jakob! You don't have to do all of that, you just got back!" Corrin grasps his butler's shoulders, trying to guide him into sitting down. The poor man looks tired, wearing himself thin all over Corrin. Corrin kneels before his friend, grasping his hands in his own.

"You don't need to trim the gardens, that's the job of someone at the academy already, let them do it," He sighs, looking up at Jakob mournfully, "you don't need to clean up and tidy after me all the time here. Tea is appreciated, but you don't always need to brew it for me if it keeps you up. You don't need to grade my papers for me, I rather enjoy doing them myself."

He was pushing himself too far, and Corrin did not want to see his dear friend break. They were master and servant; but were they not also friends, close as brothers even?

"Jakob... rest, please. I don't know what happened while you were gone; are you trying to overcompensate for something? You can confide in me, my friend," Corrin stands again, placing a gentle hand on the other man's cheek, "And I desire you to rest for once. Please."

[princepsumbra]

Throwing the Pigskin

oh, so this was the part of festivities where everyone stood awkwardly outside and made small-talk. "i'm rather good at throwing things. catching? we'll see," jakob was rather staunchly against learning horseriding despite gunters claims that he would be inherently good at it. no, a butlers life for him, thank you. "are you? i suppose we ought to find out then . . ."

he stands across from leo, taking a few steps back. this was the strangest celebratory event that he has seen in fodlan, but, the ball was in his hands and leo was quite literally the sole person he knew outside currently. "we can throw it once and set it aside. i'm against this, but. . ."

but, he wants to see leo flounder maybe just a little bit. a tiny bit. he thinks it would be funny. he cannot say that.

"lord leo, are you prepared?" jakob questions, before getting ready to throw it towards him. "catch."

he does not pelt it as if it were a blade, simply a normal underarm throw - jakob does have good accuracy.

Baldr's Bounty!

After that catastrophe in the kitchen, Leo had absconded for the nearest washroom, where he wiped away the evidence to the best of his ability.

The stain stubbornly remained ingrained in the deep purple fabric of his shirtsleeve despite numerous attempts to wash it clean. It's still damp, chilling his skin as he loiters by the bonfire. Thank the gods he had a jacket to cover his otherwise disorderly appearance.

This is exactly why he hated parties.

And, it seemed, the object of his derision couldn't leave well enough alone. Leo turned to face Jakob, finding him holding that oblong ball some other students were playing with earlier.

He thinks Xander would greatly enjoy the sport. It makes him feel worse.

Leo's seen Jakob's deadly accuracy with a dagger. He has no doubts that his aim will remain true no matter what he's throwing. The temptation to walk away is hard to resist, but he stays. What else does he have to lose, after all?

"I'm prepared."

Automatically, his hands rise up to chest level, fingers curled. The ball is easy enough to track, spinning in a near-perfect arc before falling back down.

Leo takes a half-step forward, catching the ball easily in his hands. He'd expected another mishap, truth be told. "There," he replies, eyes reflecting the firelight. "Have you sated your curiosity now?"

[emblemoftheattorney]

Jakob and Gunter’s dynamic is so underrated, their supports are so hilarious yet kinda sweet when you look deeper? A grumpy father figure and bratty son dynamic.

[vapor-vine]

mmmmm my rarepair

would they be called flaker or jonnel (mashing their japanese names together since)

[ashes-of-ailell]

while I don't remember much about my Conquest run, I do remember that I S-Supported Jakob as soon as humanly possible so clearly 13 year old me's priorities were in order

[asterouslyaesthetic]

sometimes, i'm like, "eh, i don't like jakob that much" and then i reread his support chain

[valflaame]

"have you heard?" is how jakob breaks the silence in the silence of their office. in the midst of sifting through papers or the scratching of pens on student work, it appeared neither were ones for in-depth conversations. factually spoken, jakob lacked any desire to become 'buddy buddy' with his coworkers -- but this was of necessity. "on the rumor spreading about."

a pause, a sip of tea, a savoring of the taste. could anyone blame him? the climate of fodlan differed greatly from nohr, it was in his best interests to mend the occasional sore throat that came and went. tea healed most wounds, if not all, bar the ones that sliced into viscera. "that you and i are apparently impossible to achieve an A-grade from."

which... to an extent, was true. jakob was a critical marker, excessively so, oftentimes removing rather important marks for trivial mistakes some may turn a blind eye to. "i had even heard as much as other students saying 'good luck' at the notion of someone having us as an instructor."

mind, he doesn't seem bothered by this, at all. what use was it to heed mind to students who couldn't handle the guidance of a firm figure? "i'd be rather curious to hear your approach to teaching."

He looks up from his papers, a slight frown on his face. It was quiet before, and he wasn't necessarily bothered by the lack of chattering.

Yet it is still important to get to know your colleagues, so he will engage. He sips his coffee and cannot help that his expression shifts into one of an amused smile.

"Are we?" he asks. Ah, good to have another professor who understands that these students should not have everything handed to them. He wonders if their philosophy in education is similar.

"They aren't going to learn if they do not have someone pushing them," he adds. "Every single student has room for improvement. I will not tolerate laziness or lack of critical thinking in my presence."

He smiles a little more openly, shifting into the more charismatic version of himself that many are more open to. Extending a hand he offers his name.

"Lord Arvis of Grannvale. And what should I call you?"

[anruraiocht]

@indevouement asked:

[toawitchesaccord] from across the room, come the reveal of the votes, he stares at her. a really pointed stare, for at least a minute, before he speaks. "well," jakob shrugs, masking frustration in his voice. "quite the noblewoman with a two-timing tendency, are we?"

he shakes his head, sardonic smile donning his features. "admirable," he adds. "aristocracy who lie and scheme are rather popular in nohr. you'd do well in my home country."

The second shackle latches onto the first, alerting everyone gathered to Miranda's decision. Chief among them is the very person that she had betrayed, his gaze burning into her back. He had been more than willing to ally and yet she had pulled the rug out from under his feet.

All for the difference of a single candy.

It's a hollow victory, one that she can't even bring herself to celebrate. They're tied now, but no smile rises to her face. Why? Why isn't she happy? Miranda can't smile, but Jakob can. Isn't that unfair? He's not happy, either, so why can he smile and she can't?

"My father was unfailingly kind and he paid for that with his life," she shoots back, hands clenched. "If I do not want to be betrayed, then I must betray first. I cannot allow even the slightest risk."

She turns her head away.

"I intend to win again Prince Leif no matter what it takes. You may curse me if you like. I won't ask you to understand."

[voxmilia]

the only men I ship Severa/Selena with are absolute cringefail nerd men, bonus points if they say some dumb shit in their S support

[laslow]

a kiss placed on the back of the hand as a greeting !

" no, you're mistaken, " jakob speaks as if he were instructing. little does he know, he is the one without the expertise here. "i want you to correct my form, you see. i know dancing may not be your forte, but it's been some time since i have truly done anything remotely traditional to nohrian dancing. i hadn't even participated in the ball. . ."

a dismissive wave. "i will not ask for you as my partner," in fact, it's far easier to practice the motions by yourself. who knows if laslow knows how to dance ? "but, surely, you know a thing or two about what looks awful or not ? i really can't fathom being less in any form of etiquette. i'll begin."

hand takes ahold of laslows wrist gently, a quick peck on the back of his hand - before taking a few paces back. "and immediately after that, i suppose it was . . . ah ! right," a nod of affirmation. "you side step here, and then . . ."

it looks very average, but he's trying!

international kiss day 2024!

He bites the inside of his cheek, hard, doing his utmost to remain professional. Jakob so rarely asks for help--scaring him off by gloating would be a poor reaction.

But maybe Laslow can get away with a little teasing. As a treat.

"Why, Jakob, is there a special lady you're eager to impress?" Laslow waggles his eyebrows, uncrossing his arms as Jakob speaks. "And not to worry! I happen to know a few things about dancing. One picks up so many tidbits in the pursuit of love."

Traditional Nohrian dancing isn't that complicated, anyway. They favor precise movements over a more natural flow, but it's still beautiful.

The kiss surprises him. It shouldn't, given that Jakob will follow etiquette unto death. Laslow just wasn't expecting the entire experience. His hand hangs in the air for another moment before he retracts it, attention now shifting to the butler.

Naga, Jakob's stiff. Even by Nohrian standards. The steps are all correct, but his timing is a half-beat off. Nothing that can't be fixed with a little practice.

"Alright, not bad at all! My first piece of advice? Relax your shoulders. Keep a slight bend in your knees, like when you're throwing a dagger." Laslow assumes first position. "You should move elegantly from step to step, like so..."

Side step, forward, back, side, forward again. He moves with the confidence of someone who isn't consciously thinking about footwork. "See? Nohrians favor posture and precision over all else. It's a little boring, sometimes, but it's never a bad thing to keep to the basics."

[icedflora]

VeggieTales Got Murdered and God Wants Justice || Jakob & Flora

@indevouement

One of the largest farms in the Adrestian countryside has recently been ravaged, ruining an entire season’s potential yields. Signs of crops being trampled and rows of plants being burnt to no more than lines of ash suggest sabotage, and so the farmers are pointing fingers at anyone and everyone that could potentially fit the bill of saboteur. If you can’t fix the problem, the farmhands are demanding you at least find the culprit or they’ll find them themselves, but with their pitchforks at the ready. Can their sense of ‘justice’ truly be relied upon right now?

It surprises Flora when she receives a letter of notice that she is being sent on a mission on behalf of Garreg Mach and the Church of Sieros. The signature from the Archbishop at the bottom makes the request feel less like an ask and more like a demand, a sense of duty to fulfill. It leaves a somewhat bitter taste on her tongue reminiscent of times spent being ordered to do things by another person in power. Regardless, Flora packs her bag and heads for the horse stalls to meet with her partner for the mission. 

It should not surprise her to see Jakob arrive with his own bag, ready to take on the mission assigned to them. Flora grabs the reigns of the horse she’ll be using for the trip and leads it out of the stall just in time to spot Jakob approaching. She smiles politely and nods her head in greeting. “Good morning, Jakob. It seems we have quite the task set out for us, and out in the farming regions, no less. How do you feel about it?” She is making light conversation, though she feels that it will only be met with the same Jakob she’s known for so long. He is a no-nonsense sort of man, after all. No time to dilly-dally with chatter when there is a task at hand.

[maligknightsthorns]

"princess camilla. what a pleasant surprise to see you at the academy," jakob smiles politely, a curt bow towards the princess in all his pleasantries. the two were rather similar at times. the purple in which they donned, their longer hair, the tact they took in formalities. albeit, a lesser spoken quality of them both -- the mutual willingness to enforce dire straits upon those who troubled corrin. jakob knew these factors rather well. "you'll be pleased to hear nohr remains in good standing, though, the absence of some royalty is always sorely missed."

and, sometimes, it did cause for a bit of... diverge in ideals in what may be best for corrin. nonetheless, he could practically hear corrins insistence that he plays nice or gets along better with others (and jakob always approached royalty with a more refined edge to his disposition regardless). and so he does. and then he can tell corrin, and see a relieved smile, or maybe even an excited one. "tea? i recall you dislike sugar in yours," a pause. "none can make a better cup than me, of course. it would be my pleasure." [hiiiiii!!!!!!]

"Hm." Jakob's presence was rarely a pleasant one. He was always interfering in her abilities to take care of her darling little Corrin. She found him quite insufferable.

But Corrin insisted they play nice... And if it was for Corrin...

And she was loath to admit it but Jakob did make a nice cup of tea.....

"I have become rather found of the Four Spice blend here with a spot of milk..." She sighed. "I suppose it couldn't hurt, thank you for offering."

[princepsumbra]

Dereliction of Duty

continued from here; @indevouement

Leo accepts the teacup, pulling it closer with one hand, noting the impressive polish that makes the golden rim gleam. How Jakob produced tea service on short notice, Leo will never know--though he suspects the butler keeps an emergency tray fully prepped at all times. Such devotion to his craft is certainly a magic all its own.

He listens quietly. A bird flies past his office window, casting a brief shadow across the room. "Kidnapping?" Leo prompts when Jakob pauses. Silence stretches on. In the span of seconds, Jakob's entire demeanor shifts into one of barely concealed panic. He does an admirable job covering it; if not for the desperate way he asks for tea, Leo would think he was avoiding an unpleasant memory.

Green eyes narrow. "Almyran pine needles, please," he replies. "And to answer your question, I am curious because of the staggering use of magic. A spell like that would require massive amounts of energy, not to mention exact incantations. Sustaining anything of that magnitude for an extended period of time would wear out even the most talented of mages."

Expression clears of suspicion as he speaks. An overreaction, surely. "Yes, others can provide me with clarity, and I intend to ask at some point. I thought it best to inquire with those I already have an established rapport. Corrin has told me little herself." Underhanded, some might say, of him preying on Jakob's devotion. But Leo isn't lying--he has not been made privy to the full extend of the nightmares that befell his beloved.

One more push. "Consider this part of my research on the subject. If what everyone is saying is true, none of your perceived experiences were real, and therefore, none of your actions had any lasting consequences in the real world." What an incredibly jarring effect that must have regardless.

[jimothystu]

Oh Chych’s at the Jays game 🥹