#vicious-vestra

[museinmultitudes]

[ PRIDE ]: after the receiver succeeds in a remarkable achievement, the sender cups their face and tilts their foreheads together to express how proud they are of them ((Helen to Bernie~))

Reasons to cup a face | Accepting! @vicious-vestra

Bernadetta's heart felt like it was beating so fast it would shatter her chest. "I..."

She squeaks as Helen turns her head, but she doesn't pull away. Her heart is still racing, her eyes are blown wide and Helen is moving closer to her and

Bernie's eyes squeeze shut when their foreheads touch. She isn't sure what to do at first. She waits, but nothing comes. Her ears strain and she stays still, but nothing ever comes. Slowly, Bernadetta's shoulders start to drop as her heart settles. She peeks one eye open. Helen is still there, waiting for her, foreheads pressed together. Bernie swallows and hopes the other doesn't feel the heat as her face starts to burn.

"I...did good? Bernie did good?"

[cinderellatype-a]

”…Some people should simply be assassinated., you know.” Though the older Dark Flier meant Andromeda’s stepmother/siblings, t was unclear if Helen were joking or not. ((Offering to kill people who hurt her friends/family is part of her love language @vicious-vestra))

"d-dolores and my s-stepsisters seem to routinely elicit s-such feelings from others e-especially when they o-open their mouths." a dry laugh escapes andromeda, and a smile curls the corners of her mouth into a weak grin. "they'll g-get what's coming to them, eventually, i h-have to hope so."

[zoloteh-volossya]

On Ferdinand

[This was first posted to reddit about two years ago. I have a tumblr now, so I figured that I might as well cross post it. I haven't really seen anyone discuss this that I am aware of, so perhaps I can add something new to the FE3H discussion even after all these years.]

So, I've had some thoughts percolating for a while on Ferdinand and his most common fandom portrayals. I feel like there are a number of little inconsistencies in how I see him discussed that are worth exploring, and I'd like to to try and get a little deeper into the meat of who Ferdinand is and what his position entails in the world of Fodlan.

Ferdinand's Worldview

One thing that underlies a lot of my understanding of Ferdinand is that he recognizes that he, and the nobility in general, are raised with more power and resources than everyone else. However, rather than realize that this is a problem, as Edelgard does, his initial instinct is to justify it. This is the "just world fallacy" - the nobility must be better off because they are better, because they were raised to be suited for this role. It results in him clinging tightly to the concept of "nobility" as an aspiration. What goes unspoken is that in him mind, they need to behave this way to deserve their positions and privilege. Of course, this is concept demonstrably untrue (with his own father, to boot, as he is well aware), which is why he needs to "No True Scotsman" the nobility, disliking "nobles who are not noble" and attempting to urge the noble heirs around him to live up to the standards he has set for their behavior in his mind. (In his Hopes Leonie support, he "No True Scotsmans" literally every other noble.)

This will be relevant to my next two points.

Ferdinand's "Advice"

First of all, the fandom's standard understanding of the Ferdinand-Hubert C support is that it clarifies Ferdinand's actual ambitions. He may seem like he's trying to upstage Edelgard, but all he really wants to do is prove himself worthy to advise her! However, one piece of evidence sits uneasy with this understanding: Ferdinand's pre-timeskip advice box.

There are many citizens of the Empire who are currently in despair. I think it is time for a change in leadership. Perhaps someone new should ascend the throne? You would do well as a ruler, Ferdinand.

This is not the answer of a man who just wants to support Edelgard. It is, quite frankly, seditious. But I do think it is consistent with both Ferdinand's demeanor pre-timeskip and his Hubert C support. If you take a look at the current Adrestian political situation, after the Insurrection of the Seven Duke Aegir is currently the effective ruler of Adrestia, but he has not seized the throne. He still serves as Prime Minister, and his official job function is to "advise" the Emperor. It's just that Emperor Ionius has no choice in whether to follow this advice or not. There's no way Ferdinand is unaware of the current situation, he's the one to explain the Imperial nobility to Byleth.

Now, this puts Ferdinand's dedication to "advising" Edelgard in a very different light - and also recontexutalizes the Hubert C support. Hubert is a descendant of an Insurrectionist, and Marquis Vestra is currently one of the people pulling Ionius's strings. For Hubert to be following Edelgard subserviently must seem ridiculous to Ferdinand. Hubert's accusation of "sedition" and vicious insults of Ferdinand also make sense - to him, this is the heir of an Insurrectionist glorying in trying to maintain the status quo of the Insurrection. Of course he loathes Ferdinand.

Ferdinand's drive to one-up Edelgard seems a bit silly and anime-rival-like if he merely wishes to support her. However, if "advising" is not support but control, like the situation he would reasonably be expecting to inherit, then proving himself Edelgard's superior is vital to his self conception of the world. Upon graduation, he expects to be handed Edelgard's reigns. To maintain the self conception of nobility that I described above, he needs to prove to himself (and to the world, in his eyes) that he deserves this power over her, that he is worthy of it. He has every reason to expect, as per the advice box question, that he will be the actual de-facto ruler of Adrestia eventually, and I see no evidence that he intends to change this situation before Edelgard changes it for him (per his Goddess tower conversation, he does intend to take down his father, but this does not mean he intends to give up the power his father took - he mentions that he will need to "guide the Empire's subjects" in that selfsame convo).

This means that a SS/VW/AM Ferdinand thematically follow his father. He disagrees with Edelgard's actions, so he kills her, thus finishing the job his father started and completing the Insurrection. He will likely be the most powerful person in the former Adrestian territories for his troubles. Mission accomplished (hollow as he feels about it).

This isn't me attempting to argue that "Ferdinand bad." One of Ferdinand's most consistent character traits is his growth from his C-supports, and in CF he comes to realize that he does best in a supporting role (relevant to this, see his Byleth A support, which is all about him coming to terms with not being the most important/recorded in the history books, but playing a supporting role and improving the world anyway). But I don't think that he's this cinnamon roll golden retriever puppy that we kind of like to talk about him as. His actions pre-timeskip align with a man who is trying to prove to himself and the world that it is his right to usurp Edelgard's power and effectively rule in her stead.

Ferdinand's Ignorance

Now, one thing has consistently bothered me about the Edelgard-Ferdinand A support. Don't get me wrong, a lot of it is great! The suggestion of an education system for the general populace is downright revolutionary. But what bothers me is this line:

Ferdinand: From birth, nobles must excel. If we do not, we will be forced out of our houses. This environment breeds superior individuals, and they, in turn, recreate the rigorous environment for their own children. Without that cycle, there would be no political elite guiding the world towards prosperity.

This is a lie. This is just blatantly false. This does not happen. It is clearly a part of Ferdinand's justification for his own privilege that I discussed above. But he still believes it. Five years into a war against the nobility, five years at Edelgard's side, and he still believes this self-serving falsehood about the nature of the nobility. In CF, it doesn't really matter. The old ways are going down in flames, and in this very support he suggests an excellent step forward into the new world. But this support does have implications for him in the other routes, for his judgement and ability to accurately assess the world in front of him and not his fantasy projections onto it. His Hopes Leonie support reveals a similar complete disconnect on his part from how he views nobility and how literally all other nobles operate.

This theme of Ferdinand's ideas about the nobility not aligning with reality is also reinforced in his B-support with Lorenz, where he flat out admits:

Ferdinand: "[...] we can benefit from crossing the threshold and learning more about regular folk. We scarcely understand the reality of their lives."

But his lack of knowledge does not apply solely to matters of commoners and nobility. In the Ferdinand-Lysithea paralogue in Houses, Lysithea has to explain the political situation of Hrym to Ferdinand. It's his own family's protectorate territory, yet he flat out admits that he knows nothing about it. (Yes, Ferdinand's father may not have talked about Hrym to him, but it's been five years and Ferdinand canonically has been investigating his father's misdeeds, you'd think a non-CF Ferdinand would care to look into it a little.) Lysithea, on the other hand, who would not be expecting to inherit that territory and is in fact from a completely different country altogether, knows about it. It's a bad look for an unrelated Alliance noble to be informing an Imperial noble of what has been happening in territories that his family is (at least nominally) overseeing.

All together, the picture painted is one of a profound ignorance of the world on Ferdinand's part.

This is mirrored by his many, many C-supports where he hurts someone completely unintentionally - out of ignorance. Now, in most of these support chains, Ferdinand is interacting either with social equals or with a songstress made of pure gumption, so they can and do call him on his ignorance and he learns a valuable lesson and grows as a person. Ferdinand is absolutely capable of growth, but mostly when the fault is pointed out to him. But, after the game, who will inform him of his ignorance when it comes to the reality of the world? The people under him? No, there's a power differential there. His peers? No, he's probably one of the most sensible and competent nobles (low bar as that is). Honestly, I don't think anyone will.

Anyway, that's my case for Manuela for Prime Minister.

[fodlaneverafter]

FEA character mini-analyses: black eagles as rebels

Today I feel like explaining why I cast characters the way I did in FEA (my ongoing 3H/EAH crossover fic)! If all goes well this'll be a four-part series--one each for the three houses and one last post for the house lords + Rhea. (I'm sorry Ashen Wolves fans... I'll talk about Yuri in the last post, but I don't think there's much I can say for the rest of his house.)

Now without further ado, let us begin!

Hubert as Faybelle Thorn: let's raise a cheer for everyone's favorite dark fairy!! (please don't this is cursed enough. haha get it? cursed, because he's--) As we all know the most important thing about Hubert von Vestra is his impeccable sense of style, and Faybelle's aesthetic is the only one that comes close. The only major difference between these two characters is that Faybelle is spiteful, while Hubert is simply ruthless. And I think it's enough to make him a Rebel, as the Dark Fairy's actions are nothing but petty. With his father's role being stolen by the Evil Queen, I thought this would add an interesting dimension to his loyalty to Edelgard (whereas Faybelle hates Raven for it). Also, Faybelle's pet is canonically a pomeranian puppy named Spindle, and I wanted to give Hubie a pomeranian puppy named Spindle.

Ferdinand as C.A. Cupid: I needed something to replace nobility as the virtue around which he centers his life, so naturally I decided on the most entertaining alternative--love. In this AU, destiny-bound "true love" serves as a good enough parallel to the corruption of Fódlan nobility. So while he may have some disagreements with Edelgard, he can't argue with her understanding of destiny. Giving him big ol' wings makes him even more annoying to her, which is exactly what I want. ... Okay, yes, I did make him Cupid just because it was the only way I could include "Ferdinand von Aegir Cupid" in this AU.

Bernadetta as Cerise Hood: yes, it does hurt me that Bernadetta's color palette clashes horribly with the RRH aesthetic, but what can a girl do they're the perfect match! Of course Bernie would be shy and reclusive if her father was the freaking Big Bad Wolf. And who wouldn't be anxious having to hide a secret like that in the woods, constantly surrounded by the vicious Wolf people? Of course I couldn't make her as extremely nervous as she was in 3H, but uh. I don't think anyone minds. (We are kicking Count Varley out of the picture by the way please forget he ever existed.)

Petra as Cedar Wood: the only princess besides Edelgard in 3H may be a mere commoner in this retelling, but real queens need no crowns. Cedar's desire to understand humans is the closest in-universe to Petra's desire to understand Fódlan (even if they're for different reasons). Furthermore, I find Petra's honesty works well with Cedar's curse--they're both so endearing for it.

Dorothea as Meeshell Mermaid: we shall forever mourn the lost potential of Meeshell, but Dorothea is a whole other story. Voice of an angel, check. Renowned beauty, check. Most importantly, her longing to be truly seen and loved, check. Let's not forget the Little Mermaid was treated as little more than a pretty plaything in the prince's court, never truly seen by the man she loved. Canon Dorothea fears exactly that. Her being a Rebel is just too perfect.

Linhardt as Briar Beauty: I don't think I need to explain myself here? But... the tricky part about him is that Linhardt would never in a million years be unsatisfied with his destiny. I had to lure him to the dark side with lots of enticing research opportunities on the true nature of destiny-bound curses and succession laws, because of what happened with his mom's story (Evil Queen stealing Dark Fairy's role and all). Anyway, I love imagining him with green crownglasses and the fact that his personality is the polar opposite of Briar's will never not be hilarious.

Caspar as... the son of the White Queen??: yeah so the White Queen doesn't have a kid in EAH; I just couldn't think of anything more suiting for Caspar, both in personality and appearance (a bonus, in my book!). Now technically most of the Wonderlandians are Golden Deer, but like... who cares. Also, it's adorable to picture Caspar having normal conversations with his mom, who is the princesses' advisor, and they're quite literally just shouting at each other. Even if they're on opposite sides of the destiny conflict, I feel like they'd have the sweetest relationship.

And that, my folksies, is that.

Confession: before starting this fic, the Black Eagles were my least favorite house. I didn't understand them at all, but now I am so glad I do. They got that Rebel heart, lads.

Next up: Blue Lions!

[seraphiism]

𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄

( there is longing. so much longing. I AM AFRAID TO BE SO INCOMPLETE. )

chara : hubert von vestra fandom : fire emblem: 3 houses quote cr : vi khi nao a/n : thank you for the comm & support!

ONE. & IN THE THROES OF WAR, LOVE IS A TERRIBLE BEING. the way she clings to you, roots herself in the core of soul, digs and digs and makes herself known and there until she isn’t. because that’s what love is, isn’t it? a feeling that pronounces itself through a racing heart and everlasting ache that eases with time until there is the sickening revival of an excruciating want for another. how slowly does she poison your body, lace each fiber of survivalism with herself.

the confessions remain ever so stagnant, words of affection lodged in your throat. it almost feels like suffocation, this feeling right here and now : the same one that has haunted you for the past five years. you wonder if love is supposed to feel this way.

you hold your breath, ignore the way your lungs burn in protest. you want to breathe, you want to breathe, YOU WANT TO BREATHE, but you resist, succumb to cowardice because there is safety in foolishness.

you are choking on love. you love hubert von vestra.

( YOU ARE AT WAR WITH YOURSELF. )

TWO. & IN THE THROES OF WAR, LOVE HAS NO PLACE. hubert’s life belongs to another, devotion and dignity intertwined in the path to victory and better days alongside an empress he has known since childhood. such frivolous matters mean little to him, he’ll say, but what a lie that will be, he will think, and he’ll smile because it is all nonsense in the end, anyway.

it is all nonsense, but it will dwell, brew, fester– until it rises and rises, wraps itself around his frame and squeeze and squeeze until he can no longer ignore this feeling of unrest. he will recognize it as love, burn it and rid of the embers, but the ash will linger, settle themselves in his existence.

“you are not as frightening as you let on.”

something inside crumbles in that very moment, this night where the stars watch over reluctant hearts that deem themselves irrelevant to the violence at hand. your voice cracks. hubert steps forward, watches with curiosity as you stand your ground, prepare for a different heartbreak than the one you inflict upon yourself.

“oh?” another step. there is a false cruelty in his words. “it appears you have a misconception of me. you should be careful, you know. better to assume the worst of someone than to think too highly of them.”

in the curl of your lips is a tiredness, a bittersweet nostalgia that embeds itself on your tongue. the taste of rust lines your throat. you further close the distance, cross your arms as if it’s the last barrier that will protect you from a love irredeemable.

“we’ve known each other for many years, hubert. i already know you for who you are, not who you choose to act as.”

the stars begin to dim. how very strange it is, the seemingly dead things one learns to carry.

( YOU ARE AT WAR WITH YOURSELF AND SO IS HE. LOVE HAS NO PLACE BETWEEN YOU TWO, BUT YOU’LL KEEP IT THERE, HOPE THERE WILL BE A PLACE FOR IT, SOMEHOW, SOMEWHERE. )

THREE. & IN THE THROES OF WAR, LOVE RESIDES IN THE ANTI VIOLENCE. the road to peace is bound by calamity and execution / sword against sword / blood for blood. it is quite horrid, this sinking & somber feeling that settles in when daybreak comes and adrenaline wears thin. how the pain consumes you so, body aching from all you have endured and survived.

it hurts so very much, the wounds that have worn and broken your skin. your head throbs, knees threatening to give out as the nausea comes in vicious waves. it stings and burns, this stabbing pain that radiates through you.

it doesn’t mean much, does it? this will pass. you will win another battle. everything will continue on. 

it’ll be alright somehow, in the end. it has to be.

you sigh, recognize the way your body trembles from exhaustion and weakness. you look up towards a brilliant orange sky, feel the sun’s warmth on your face. you feel his presence next to you, but he does not speak.

“you should attend to lady edelgard. i’ll be fine.”

“she has already been attended to.” hubert’s words lack their usual sharpness, you notice. you glance at him, follow his gaze to the sky once more. “you are my priority at this time.”

you almost laugh. what an honor that is.

it hurts so very much. you are getting lightheaded. you are tired.

“the battlefield is a very lonely place, isn’t it?”

you shut your eyes for only a brief moment, miss the way he looks at you : unreadable, yet filled with the faintest of longings. his lips part, gentle words on edge of being spoken until you finally succumb to fatigue, lose all senses of balance. he is quick to catch you, hold instinctively tightening when you try to stand on your own. how wreckless of him to assume that most of the crimson on your body was not yours ; how it spreads all too quickly before his very eyes, a dreadful sight that he will remember for far too long.

( THE AIR STILLS, SILENT, FILLS HIS LUNGS WITH DESPERATION. YES, IT IS LONELY, THIS PLACE OF BRUTALITY. )

FOUR. & IN THE THROES OF WAR, THERE IS ALWAYS LOVE IN WHAT COULD BE LOST. humans have always been foolish : quick to fall for another, slow to realize what is meant to be cherished before it is taken away. such is the life of prideful beings, and hubert supposes he is no different. a bitter smile settles on his lips as he watches your sleeping figure, your body bruised and bandaged in the aftermath of victory.

it is very easy to lose yourself in war, he thinks, his hand gentle in the way it rests on yours, and how very human he has always been, after all. even he is not numb to what love means, and perhaps he has always wanted to share such a thing with you. always. the word brings a sense of belonging to him : warm, welcoming, and almost lonely in a loveliest of ways.

his life is bound to edelgard’s ; it is not chains that bind him, but rather his loyalty. he wonders what it would be like to live for himself more, give into humanity and look beyond the horizon, listen to what lies in a sleeping heart.

it would have been so easy to lose you. it would have been so easy. the end of the war is not yet close ; there are many battles ahead, many opportunities for a greeting at death’s door. it would be too easy. one moment you could be here, another, you could be gone. 

there is a feeling of shame that embeds itself in his throat at the somber realization, renders him speechless as you stir awake, open your eyes to the sight of him at your side. you blink, greeted with an aching pain that slowly withers away, replaced by the comfort of his touch. you almost feel guilty seeing that flicker of relief that washes over his visage, but the silence is too heavy and you cannot bring yourself to break it.

“you’ve caused quite the ordeal, getting injured like that.”

“i’d imagine so. sorry you had to stay and watch over me.”

you smile a tired smile, one that he almost does not wish to see. your gazes lock, uncertainty met with a foreign tenderness that you think you imagine. you break away, stare down at the hand that rests on yours. it is silent once again.

“you’ve brought much chaos to my life these past few years. i would consider you troublesome, even.” he pauses, nearly chuckles at your widened eyes. “i’ve always thought there was no need for another by my side. i’ve already made my choice, sworn my loyalty elsewhere. i did not think love was something that i would experience, yet it is something i feel we share. i can only hope that you feel the same way.”

you almost wonder if you are hallucinating, wonder if the gods are having pity on you after all these years of wanting someone you thought you could not have. the grief that weighs deep on your heart almost abates immediately, leaves it lighter than ever. you turn your hand over, gently lace your fingers with his in silent reciprocation of his confession.

“are you sure you want to be with someone so troublesome?” the words are soft spoken, but your expression is bright and filled with a quiet joy that he finds himself all too fond of. “you’ll have to deal with it for the rest of your life, you know.”

“i am almost certain. i’ve come to like it, unfortunately. you’ve bested me, after all.” hubert laughs, lifting your hand to press a kiss against your wrist. “i would have no one else by my side except for you.”

you squeeze his hand in response, the lump in your throat stealing all the right words away. you hope he understands, and he does, of course he does. with a gentle tug, you pull him towards you, press your forehead against his.

“i’ll stay by your side then, hubert.”

( FOUR, REVISITED : & IN THE THROES OF WAR, THERE IS A LOVE FOUND AMONG THE HEARTS OF THOSE WARBORN. HOW LOVELY IT IS , THE LONGING FOR ANOTHER. )

[askhubertvonvestra]

What's your favorite insult? I imagine you pick insults depending on the person and situation, but which one do you like the most objectively?

Well, if you must ask, I suppose it is more of a formulaic structure than a direct insult. You’re correct in assuming I will tailor an offense to the individual for ideal results, however... There is a delight to be had in something equally crisp and almost artistic.

A substantially diminishing metaphor never harmed the effort of insulting someone properly, it’s true. They are something of an investment, however, and can easily exceed several minutes if you find yourself inspired. But for those moments when you simply need a quick biting remark, I find a higher end adjective paired with a suitable noun will serve you well.

Blithering buffoon, if you are partial to alliteration. Slovenly oaf is another option. If you are feeling especially scathing, you may stack adjectives in preface to the final slight. An inane, fatuous, puerile excuse of a lord, for example. Said in the right harsh tone, they’ll carry each word with them like a scar for ages to come.

[armatization-a]

( @vicious-vestra )

[ STROKE ] Hopefully Bernie doesn't mind Helen's cold fingers --

[ affectionate interaction meme ; accepting ]

It took a while to get used to Helen’s hands.

It wasn’t that Bernadetta didn’t like them - of course not - it was that the ice cold skin that startled her. It froze her right down to her core at first, like a deer at a hunter’s arrow. Slowly, she had grown used to her wife’s hand against her cheek, warmth pressed against cold. In winter, she hoped that her warmth would soothe Helen. In summer, her cold hands cooled Bernadetta immensely.

In the heat, Helen helped. Her hand gently brushed against Bernadetta’s cheek, and she smiled at her, instead of recoiling in fear. She held her hand against Helen’s.

“You’re so cold,” she hummed happily. “It’s really nice.”

[aethele]

@vicious-vestra​  said:  ❝My dear, if I didn’t want people to fear me, I wouldn’t dress like this.❞ ((From Helen <3))

party banter  /  not accepting 

     “Yes,  of course,  my sweet darling !  And you look utterly stunning,  as always.  Why,  you would frighten even the Death Knight in that dress !”  Soft,  silken,  and adorned with affection,  for it is truly how he feels.  He cannot help but admire the  stark figure  that dress cuts on her,  or how the latticework laces arrange in precisely the right way to be plucked one-by-one by eager fingers sometime beneath the sweet night. 

     Yet he stands from his place of recline on the divan and wanders a step over to her,  partially to take her gloved hands his own and another to kiss her cheek.  He keeps hold of her hands,  thumbing over her knuckles in a motion almost  shy.

     “However…  and it is a small matter…  I do not look especially agreeable  in such dark shades myself.  Though I loathe to ask,  would you pray consider wearing a deep blue or rich purple instead ?  As it happens,  I was hoping that we could match tonight,  if it is the same to you…”  

[raxistaicho]

“Decisive Action”

Thought it might be fun to post snippets of scenes I particularly liked from my Fanfic for wider consumption. (No, I’m not trying to get attention for it!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28202058/chapters/69107910

Byleth Eisner lived her life as something less than human; an emotionless Ashen Demon, until a chance encounter awakened the humanity that slumbered within her.

This story is a novelization of the events of Fire Emblem: Three Houses, following the Crimson Flower story but using events from the other stories, Cindered Shadows included, to tell the full story of the game. Think of it as "complete" story, not a golden story, and don't come in expecting every character to make it out alive.

There's a heavy emphasis on character-building moments and the slow growth of the Black Eagles and their allies, and I do my best to avoid simple direct portrayals of in-game cutscenes after the first few chapters. The pace is slow but steady, and I keep a strict upload pace of one chapter every other week.

Original found on:

Chapter 10: Harpstring Moon: Officers' Gambits    

...

As practice wore on, both students became more adept at improvising and misleading one another, though Byleth noted Ferdinand had a preference for flexible strategies that involved a lot of mobility from his forces, while Edelgard favored… rather more daring gambits.

One such time, Edelgard and her forces were stationed at the top of a small but steep hill. The point of that particular exercise was to simulate the effects of high and low ground. To Byleth’s initial surprise, she arranged her troops in a wide fashion, almost to the point of having them spread too thin. About half of them moved into a small grove nearby, which hinted at an ambush.

Ferdinand hesitated to issue his commands, no doubt trying to deduce Edelgard’s plan, but eventually he gave the order for his soldiers to make Edelgard’s tremble. They moved upward, giving the grove a wide berth but otherwise charging at full speed. All the better to pierce Edelgard’s defenses before she had time to unleash her trap.

But everything went wrong when a giant, flaming, dead tree suddenly crashed out of the grove and rolled downhill. Ferdinand, panicked, ordered a hasty retreat. He and his men cleared out of the tree’s path, but the moment it struck flat land, the aged, rotten wood shattered into a half-dozen smaller pieces, spewing embers and smoke across the field.

“My my, Edie’s got spunk, doesn’t she?” said Dorothea.

 ”Indeed, that’s certainly one way to end a battle decisively!”

Byleth felt a jolt passing through her as she watched Edelgard’s counter-attack unfold. Ferdinand’s mercenaries were either crawling about in a blind, choking, terror amidst the smoke, or trying to avoid the small fires spreading every which way. The church soldiers cast them aside with ease.

“Round to Miss Hresvelg, very creatively done,” said Byleth. She shook from head to toe, though she wasn’t quite sure why. “That’ll win you a battle for sure. Very risky and potentially destructive, but a vicious opening move can mean fewer casualties in the end.”

“Though I’m not sure I said it was allowed for Mister Vestra to cast fire magic on the environment,” she added, shooting Hubert a look.

Hubert simply tucked his arm across his chest and gave a very low bow, never once taking his eyes off his professor. She couldn’t see from the distance, but she imagined he was sporting one of his more diabolical grins.

 ”You know, he doesn’t strike me as one to concern himself with being caught breaking the rules...”

...

Once their lectures for the day were complete, Byleth gathered up her teaching materials, planning to spend the rest of the night quietly preparing for the following day. After she finally looked up, she found herself staring into the violet eyes of her house leader.

“Oh, I’m sorry Edelgard,” said Byleth. “You’re always free to call out to me if I’m distracted.”

“Not at all, Professor, I wasn’t waiting long,” said Edelgard. A calm, warm, smile was on her face. “I wanted to thank you for your hard work again today - and for not censuring me for my strategy with the log.”

“Yes, that surprised even me,” Byleth said as she closed up her bag. “But I stand by what I said; it was potentially dangerous, but swift resolutions to battles can mean fewer casualties. A leader needs to be decisive, and you certainly embodied that.”

Edelgard lifted her hand over her face - a second too late to cover her blush. “Really though, thank you. I don’t think anyone but Claude would have approved of that one. Dimitri wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if he’d seen that.” With a giggle, she planted her hands on her hips, puffed her chest out, and continued in a baritone, “‘Edelgard, your strategies risk far too much loss of life! You need to restrain yourself and fight with honor instead!’”

Byleth’s hands flew unstoppably to her mouth, and that mysterious sound escaped her lips again. Laughter. Her face burning, she looked up to Edelgard, her apologies for the outburst impossible to properly voice.

But far from being shocked at her teacher’s laughter, Edelgard was beaming at her, her own face as red as Byleth’s felt. “Well, Professor, I didn’t know my impressions were so amusing! But still, please don’t spread word about them too openly. I do have an image to maintain.”

...

[patroklides-archive]

It's no secret that Linhardt hates warfare. He never even enjoyed the mock battles they held while they were students; why would the real thing be any different? The violence, the death...he can't stand it. Lacks the constitution for it, even. His only comfort in all of this is that Edelgard seems determined to end the war as quickly as possibly now, but what the cost of that will be, he can't say. He has his hands full enough in the infirmary already, and he supposes he should take comfort in the fact that his friends weren't among the casualties in that last battle. Others were, though, and he can't understand why everyone seems so eager to throw their lives away for such arbitrary reasons in war.

By the time Hubert comes in, Linhardt's collapsed onto a chair and is pinching the bridge of his nose. He'd rather not think about the blood on his clothes. "Before you criticize my work ethic," he mumbles, "you can have the decency to hand me a rag first."           /          unprompted; @divergentpaths​

WAR IS A CEASELESS, BRUTAL THING; necessary, in this case — they had weighed the cost of war and the cost of peace, and had determined war to be the lesser evil — but, despite the perception some may have of him, it is hardly something hubert relishes. this is not a war meant to beget gold or glory; it is a means to an end, and the quicker this war of kingdoms and countries ends, the sooner the true war can begin. those of house vestra have always been more at home in the shadows than in the light, after all, and once fódlan is unified and the church fo seiros is toppled, they will finally have the power needed to contend with those who slither in the dark.

         the last battle was a particularly vicious one; though they had won in the end, the losses they had suffered were significant. he can only hope that the blow dealt to the kingdom army was enough to off-set the blow to their own numbers.

         perhaps just as troublesome is the issue of morale — a nebulous thing, a thing hubert has never understood the particulars of. morale is not a thing one can quantify; it cannot be measured; yet, even hubert cannot deny that an army in high morale fights harder and with more skill than an army in low morale.

         which is, perhaps, why hubert finds himself here, in the infirmary; a place he seldom frequents, truthfully. he has never excelled at faith magic, despite his efforts, and he prefers to take his own injuries in his quarters, where he can continue to work in spite of his injuries. more often than not, he experiences the infirmary as a series of numbers on a page — what herbs are needed, the number of vulneraries used in the previous battle, how many elixirs remain in storage. a place that exists only in the abstract, in the theoretical, as far as hubert is concerned, at least on most days. but even still, it does not escape hubert’s notice notice how hard the healers among their ranks work; that even between battles, they receive no respite.

         “  i’m not here to criticize, linhardt,  ”  he sighs; and, with some hesitance, he takes a cloth from the basin on the desk and passes it to the healer. five years ago, he would scarcely have believed that linhardt could devote himself so single-mindedly to a task, at least outside of his narrow field of interests — but he has proved himself an invaluable part of her majesty’s army.  “  actually, i meant to thank you. your assistance in the last battle likely made the difference between victory and defeat.  ”

[museinmultitudes]

❛In about a minute, you’ll be sorry you didn’t listen to me.❜ ((Helen to Bernie because Of Course @vicious-vestra))

Dialogue Prompts | Accepting! @vicious-vestra

Oh. This was the end. There was no coming back from this.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She should just die here on the spot to get herself out of this situation, it was the only way. She should have never left her room. She should have never left her home. She should have never been born!

"Whatever it is I'm doing wrong I'm sorry and I'll never do it again and I'll leave the Empire to make up for my sins I promise please don't tell Lady Edelgard please don't kill me I don't wanna sleep in a ditch!"

[macuilsung]

I’ll Tell You When You Get Your Soft, Italicized, “Oh”

The Kiss

you typically wait until the last second to believe the truth–because it would destroy you to believe it, and then find out it was a lie. you are someone who has never wanted to want, but has rarely been able to do anything else.

the idea that you might have to break down your walls for the sake of someone else, someone who could easily decide they don’t like what is on the other side, is harrowing. why let people get close enough to be rejected? you are enough for yourself. and you will tell yourself that every time you catch yourself staring at their mouth, smirking at their joke, finding a reason to flick their shoulder.

until the kiss.

that’s when the flood of want, want, want bowls over you and you realize that you are torn between two ways of living. Oh, you think. because despite how complicated you have made it, the moment you kiss, somehow, things seem incredibly simple. they won’t be once you start thinking again, but for now, for this moment, you live in the quiet peace of revelation.

Oh.

“Sheesh... Couldn’t help but go right in for the kill there, could you?”

Tagged by: Swiped it from @vicious-vestra​!

Tagging: @nobleburn​, @armatization​ (any muse!), @blade-of-fraldarius​ (any muse!), @constellaris​ (any muse!), and anyone who lost The Game™ today!

[theoldgaylion]

25 with ferdibert 😏🖤

“Hi! How can I help you today?”. 

That was a question Hubert had been asked a lot lately, since he’d become a passionate regular of the library at the center of the town. Question always followed by a wide smile, bright as the sun itself, so bright Hubert’s heart struggled to keep beating steadily, looking at it.

Not as if the young von Vestra hadn’t been a client of the institute already, but he’d found another reason to stick around more frequently now.

That reason being the owner of the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. 

A tall pile of books in his arms that almost reached the tip of his aquiline nose, Hubert scowled at the guy behind the counter for a moment before actually dignifying him with a reply.

“I have these to return.” he explained simply, showing his loot with a shrug of shoulders. 

“Oh, lovely!” the guy exclaimed joyfully, his rose lips forming an ‘o’ that Hubert didn’t find cute at all.

His excitement earned him a disdainful glare from a girl who sat not so far, and the guy’s cheeks flushed furiously.

Hubert had to bite his lower lip to suppress a snigger. 

“I’ll take care of them.” the guy continued in a lower tone, leaning forward on the counter, action that incredibly caught Hubert off guard.

In fact, the young von Vestra swallowed loudly, his throat suddenly dry, as the guy’s honeyed eyes bored into his, making his legs wobble a bit under that intensity.

In all their brief encounters, Hubert hadn’t had the chance to look at him so closely, and now could spot an intricate pattern of auburn freckles adorning the bridge of his nose, his cheeks and his forehead, his lips even, his current complexion only emphasized them. 

“I- uhm, thanks.” he babbled out awkwardly, then winced at the sound of himself being so miserable just because a cute guy was being kind to him.

Cute.

Hubert squeezed his eyes shut at that thought, then shook his head vehemently as if shooing it from his traitorous mind.

He knew the guy was just doing his job, being obliging and friendly, but he couldn’t help himself.

Despite all his efforts, that guy’s face had been tormenting him the moment he saw him one day taking over for the former clerk who usually stayed at the library’s entry. 

First thing he’d noticed about him was his eyes. Hubert could get lost into them if he wasn’t careful enough. They were the color of amber kissed by the shy light of a summer dawn, with a spark of gold near the pupil. 

Those very eyes were staring at him intently now, palms open in offer of help. 

It took Hubert some long seconds before his mind clicked in action. 

He abruptly pushed the books into the other guy’s arms, who widened his eyes in panic at the sudden gesture, a strangled squeal escaping his throat. 

Hubert sneered at the scene, feeling more at ease after the guy made a fool of himself because of him, a personal vendetta for that sense of dizziness he elicited in Hubert every time he smiled at him. 

But that swell of pride didn’t last long. 

Because the guy not only managed to not drop any of them, miraculously, he also piled them quickly on the counter, graciously smiling during the entire process as though nothing had happened.

Hubert’s scowl deepened upon realizing he didn’t scratch the guy’s positivity, not even a bit. 

Just when he thought about turning tail and exiting the library without a single word, his mood beyond bored, the guy reached out and gingerly grabbed the sleeve of his black sweater. 

Hubert would’ve admonished him for harassment on customers if he hadn’t been so shocked by his boldness.

“Can I- uhm, help you with something else, maybe?” the guy inquired around a nervous chuckle, his voice an octave higher, as his fingers tightened their grip, twitching. 

The more time passed, the more their current position looked embarrassing. 

The young von Vestra was gaping, his eyes out of their sockets, his shaved brows knitted together, while the guy’s face was so beet red Hubert was genuinely surprised it didn’t catch fire on its own. 

When finally his tongue decided to work again, the words that slipped from his mouth were loaded with revulsion and irritation. 

“What the fuck are you trying to do?!”. 

The guy gulped loudly at his assertion, but probably had a death wish since he didn’t back off, or have any intention to move for the matter. 

So, Hubert wrapped his hand around his wrist, very intended to snap him away from his personal space, but his body wasn’t on the same page. 

When his fingertips brushed against the guy’s skin, Hubert’s breath caught in his throat, a warm shiver ran along his arm and made his entire figure quiver. 

He had the gut twisting feeling the guy somehow sensed, too, the electricity that quick contact ignited between them. 

Their gazes were locked, and Hubert was losing himself once again in that ambered sea. 

A muffled cackle caught both guys’ attention. 

They whipped their heads in the same moment toward the source of that noise. 

“Ferdinand, stop flirting with the broody goth boy and get your shit done.” the girl from earlier chewed around a strawberry bubblegum, leveling them with a look. 

Both Hubert and the guy, whose name was Ferdinand apparently, froze like struck by a spell.

The young von Vestra felt heat creeping up his face and down his neck at that unsolicited comment, and the same reaction was mirrored on Ferdinand’s features. 

“It’s becoming pathetic to see the two of you dancing around each other this way.” the girl continued to speak, one fine eyebrow cocked amusedly. 

“Get on with it and ask him out on a date, you’re scaring the customers with your creepy face.” she ended nodding her head in the direction of the queue that had formed behind Hubert in the meantime. 

A pregnant pause, then Ferdinand cleared his throat for good measure. 

“Forgive her, she isn’t serious.” his voice came out pleading as he briefly bowed his head in mortification, before going back staring at him with a kind smile on his face. “But you haven’t answered me, do you need something else?” he politely asked, then gnawed his lower lip. 

His entire face was still flushed deep, blending too well with the color of his hair, a thick mane of ginger waves that was messily gathered in a mermaid side braid for the occasion, and Hubert stupidly missed the way it followed his movements. 

The young von Vestra considered the guy’s- Ferdinand’s words, his beading eyes scanning him up and down. Then, he folded his arms over his chest and showed a vicious grin. 

“No.” he answered after a handful of seconds, wanting to leave him hanging just because he could. 

The heart, though, was a vicious thing to own, in Hubert’s opinion, and usually didn’t dictate the course of his action, him being a rational person by nature. 

That day, fate surely wasn’t on his side. 

When Ferdinand was about to bid him goodbye, Hubert quickly interceded him. “Actually, I’d like to read something about human vivisection.” he requested, his tone impassive as ever, while a violent battle raged on within himself. 

Ferdinand’s face immediately shifted in a confused frown at that change of mind. “Oh, yes, right. I’m on it.” he nodded fiercely nonetheless, before circling the counter and rushing to the science section. 

Hubert heard somebody huff in frustration behind his back, but couldn’t care less.

His eyes landed on a pen holder on the other side of the counter and a sly smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. 

After a couples of minutes, Ferdinand got back from his quest and gave the young von Vestra the book, who quickly secured it in his left hand. 

“We’re not so stocked with books about this theme, but I hope this will satisfy your tastes.” the guy spoke not looking directly at him, as he fulfilled a renting form with Hubert’s personal data on the computer. 

Hubert observed him with skeptical eyes, but didn’t say anything, his heartbeat too loud in his ears for clear thoughts to overcome it. 

Once he finished, Ferdinand turned his head to gift him with another of his bright smiles. “See you soon, then.” he muttered as his cheeks turned pinkish again without Hubert guessing why. 

The young von Vestra just grunted in reply before dashing out of that place with stiff strides. 

***

Later that afternoon, when Ferdinand was putting a book back in its shelf, a piece of paper suddenly fell from its pages. 

The book momentarily forgotten, he picked it up from the floor and looked at it, trying to understand what was it. 

His eyes went wide within a second as he realized. 

There was a phone number written on it in a elegant calligraphy, the blue ink a little smudged. The discover itself wasn’t what surprised him, it wasn’t so unusual to find notes in rented books, but what he read next. 

'The broody goth boy’. 

Ferdinand’s heart jumped in his throat as butterflies twirled frantically in his stomach, his face suddenly aflame. 

A crystalline laugh left his lips before he could refrain himself. 

“Sshhh!” somebody reprimanded him from an aisle nearby, but he was too happy to care. 

Send me a prompt!

[krystalreverb]

Tomorrow, Tomorrow (Fic Preview #3)

“All these years, and I’ve never seen you in anything but an Academy uniform or a suit and tie. It’s a bit unfair, isn’t it? I’m not unaware of how I look, Hubert. Scarred, broken, put back together again like an old rag doll. I’m an ugly old monster. But I’m comfortable this way, not because of how I look but because here, in this room, I don’t have all of society’s pressures weighing on me telling me how I should look at all times. I feel free here. I want that same sort of freedom for you, Hubert. If we’re going to share our little cottage, we shouldn’t have this kind of shyness between us.” She turned over onto her stomach, letting her chin rest in Hubert’s lap. “Come on, indulge me, you big grumpy grump.” She reached up and pinched his cheek, and Hubert jerked his head away.

“Fine, but only because you asked me. I cannot deny you anything, it seems.” Hubert gently moved her off his lap, then stood, knocked back a shot of Edelgard’s fancy Almyran brandy to steel his nerves, and took off his jacket, hanging it on the back of Edelgard’s desk chair. “And, to be perfectly clear… you don’t look like an old rag doll to me, milady. You will always be the shimmering jewel of the Empire, polished to gleam in the sun. You are not a monster, you are a Queen.” He took off his outer vest, folding it neatly and placing it on Edelgard’s chair beside his jacket. He took off his tie, hanging it with his jacket over the back of the chair. Then, his shirt went, and with it his undershirt, folded neatly and placed atop his vest on the seat of the chair. 

Hubert had an average build for a man his height. He had the build of a man who spent more time studying spellbooks than weapons training, but he wasn’t a little waif, nor was he particularly skeletal, despite what his face may have suggested. He did work out occasionally. Usually, only when he had to for mission training, but he knew his way around a training course. He knew his way around a lance, too, just in case his dark magic didn’t or couldn’t do its job. 

“Your scars do not make you broken, milady.” Hubert continued, leaning backwards on the desk to kick his leg up so he could remove his boots, one by one. “Your scars are not your fault. They have never been your fault, and they didn’t break you then, so how could they possibly break you now?” 

“Hubert…” Edelgard murmured. 

“And you are not broken, nor are you ugly. You’re as magnificent as a bird of prey, soaring the skies high above us.” He removed his trousers, and folded them neatly, placing them atop his shirts. “I hope this is sufficient. Please, pardon me. I wish to still garner some image in my head of propriety.” Hubert’s face flushed, standing there stiffly in his underwear. Simple black standard-issue military briefs, for those who were wondering.  “Either that or I’m going to need more of that.” He gestured weakly to the half-empty bottle of brandy. `

“Drink to your heart’s content. I’ll just pick up another bottle while we’re traveling.” Edelgard teased, and Hubert flushed to the tips of his ears under her eyes, half-lidded as she looked at him, pleased with her servant’s willing response to her suggestion. Her eyes almost looked hungry, like a wildcat, ready to strike. She wanted to see all of him, from his head to his toes, and as her vassal, he was bound to her will. He reached for the bottle of brandy, upended it into his mouth unceremoniously, and took a large gulp to get it all down. Once the alcohol hit his stomach and fizzed there, he coughed into his fist at the taste. Then, before he could change his mind and flee, he stripped off his smallclothes and tossed them to the side. There he was, in all his glory, just a man. No longer the servant, the protector, the guardian… now just a man. And he felt so strange, standing there under her lilac gaze. He’d never been nude in front of her, it wouldn’t have been proper. But somehow, through all the alcohol coursing through his veins and the intoxicating sound of her laughter, she had managed to coerce him. And his body was not unreactive to their situation, and Edelgard’s eyes twinkled with some sort of mischief as Hubert desperately thought of anything he could, any grisly sight he’d ever seen, just to keep the blood in his brain where it belonged.

“There we are. So much more free, isn’t it?” Edelgard purred. 

“Speak for yourself. I feel horribly exposed. This is humiliating. At least let me put my trousers back on.” Hubert tried to protest, but Edelgard only laughed. Giggled, really, a beautiful and playful sound. 

“Sit with me, Hubert. Come here.” 

Hubert looked at her, eyeing her up and down curiously. He stepped forward, and Edelgard slung her arms around his hips and pulled him down to sit beside her on the bed. For a brief moment, his groin brushed ever-so-gently against her arms, and Hubert sucked in a gulp of air as he landed. 

“See? Now just feel the sheets on your skin. Isn’t it nice?” 

Hubert reached down and took the material between his fingers experimentally, as though it might bite him if handed too roughly. It was fine silk, manufactured in the Alliance but with silk imported from Adrestia. The finest silk money could buy, in a beautiful crimson. And it djd feel quite nice against his legs. Still, he was terribly uncomfortable, and this sort of impropriety could have been met with a death sentence should anyone find out. Still, she held him, her arms slung around his waist, and she used the leverage of his hips to pull herself into his lap, laying atop him as if laying on a fine silken couch. Hubert’s breath hitched, ever so slightly as she straddled him, spreading her arms wide as if to embrace all of him at once. His arms snaked under hers to hold her, and somehow, his hands lost contact with his brain and began to move autonomously, running up and down her spine gently. She shivered, and her hips twitched, and Hubert would only realize much later that she was flushed from her nose to her chest, and her gaze looked far more prurient than pure. 

“Mmm… see, Hubert? They call you cold-blooded, but you’re so warm…” She snuggled up into his lap, and he was pushed backwards, and she curled up on his chest and stayed there, sleepy and soft. Hubert’s hands found purchase on her waist, and she embraced him with all the drunken, sleepy love in the world. A warm embrace. He could feel her heart beating in tune alongside his own. “Hold me, Hubert. Prove to me you’re real.” She murmured, and they laid there together, arms locked around each other, dizzy and spinning in euphoria. 

The alcohol finally hitting them both, Edelgard looked up at Hubert with all the sadness in the world behind her eyes, but also all the hope. She stretched towards him, as though her lips might have met his, in a better world. Heh. A better world... “Hubert…?”

“Yes, milady?”

“Mmph…” And Edelgard promptly passed out cold in Hubert’s arms. Hubert could barely keep his own eyes open; the room was spinning and his head felt like someone had hit him with a brick. He passed out beneath her, barely managing to wrap them both up in blankets before unconsciousness took him. 

The sunlight peeking in through the windows roused them both from sleep in a rude manner. Hubert tried to open his eyes, and failed, squeezing them shut again as pain shot through his forehead and his temples throbbed as though he were a billet of iron being pounded into a sword by a particularly vicious blacksmith. Edelgard moaned in pain next to him, and he jumped. 

“Oh… my goodness… I must have passed out.” Edelgard said weakly, holding her skull with both hands. Hubert managed to sit up, his eyes squeezed shut, and as the duvet slid down, he found, quite shockingly, that he seemed to be in the nude. Beyond that, he had a rather irritating and embarrassing case of morning wood; and not a case that seemed likely to fade any time soon, not if Edelgard kept on being nude herself. Wait. What?

It took a few seconds for Hubert to open his eyes and realize that he was not in his own quarters. The sheer crimson canopy and silk sheets were a dead giveaway. He looked over at Edelgard, who was now sitting up and rubbing her temples with bloodshot eyes. The empty bottle of Almyran brandy sat imposingly on the desk, displaying the label of 65% alcohol mockingly in his direction. 

Suddenly, Hubert’s mind was racing. No. No, no. You did not! You did not! You are the head of House Vestra! How dare you deign to even-- how bloody dare--you fool!

“Hubert? Are you quite alright? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.” Edelgard looked up at him, pale and slightly green from nausea, red rings around his eyes and a sheen of sweat making him just slightly glisten in the sunlight flowing in through the window. His bloodshot golden-green eyes fixated on her, as if shocked that she was still there, that she didn’t flee at the sight of a naked, painfully erect man in her bed, and why was he nude now? He bunched up the sheets in his fists and covered his groin, his cheeks flushing red. He looked around again; they were still clearly in Edelgard’s bedchamber, with her massive four-poster bed with its crimson canopy and curtains that filtered the sunlight oozing in into a bright haze that pierced their eyes like neon arrows.

“Was I… in here… all night?” Hubert asked tentatively.

“Well… I assume. You were here from as far as I can remember… and you’re here now.” Edelgard mumbled, her eyes squeezed shut against the streaming sunlight from the window. She seemed to not notice his erection. Good. Good.

“...Where are my trousers?”

“What?”

“My trousers, Edelgard. Why don’t I have them?” Hubert sounded frantic as he looked around the room. 

“Oh, that! Mm, I was quite drunk, asking you to take off your clothes was really a bit of a mistake on my part, I do apologize for that. Um, your clothes are on the chair. You put them there after I asked you to get naked with me. That’s about all I can remember. After that I think I blacked out.” Edelgard gestured to her desk chair, and Hubert managed to drag his body upright and get out of bed. 

Hubert quickly put his clothes back on (he couldn’t find his underwear, but it mattered little), and pulled Edelgard’s clothes from her drawers. He kept his back carefully turned to her, deliberately going about the room so as to avoid looking into her eyes. His face was burning. How? How could he face her after such an offense? Even if she didn’t look very offended at all. In fact, she looked as though she were the one who had done something wrong. A frown doesn’t suit her. He thought.

“Hubert?”

“Yes, milady?”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t trying to.”

“It’s not a problem, milady, don’t worry about it.” Hubert tried to say, but Edelgard sighed.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” Edelgard asked, pulling Hubert’s head so he was facing her. “Nothing happened, Hubert. We’d know if it had.”

“Would we, though?” Hubert asked breathily, almost in a whisper. “Would we know? We were both sloshed, Your Majesty. We were drinking all day. I have such a headache that I barely remember my own name right now, let alone what I did last night. What if I did...something to you? What if I hurt you? Gods, if I hurt you… I’d throw myself upon the sword.” 

[askhubertvonvestra]

It's been a while Hubie ! How have you been ?

I've recently started playing dnd and yes I'm that one bard who sucks at vicious mockery :') but anyhow, it made me curious which dnd class would you assign each member of the BE including yourself obviously ?

That is has. I trust you've found yourself pleasantly occupied in your absence? You could likely guess I'm doing well.

...A bard? As in a musician and storyteller? I imagine you would have a difficult time making such a role combative, but I can admire your attempt to do so regardless. If it's advice on mockery you're after, I happen to have some. It is something of an instinct after a time.

As for assigning classes to the Black Eagles for this pastime, I’d presume that their preferences would be as much a factor as the tactical potential.

Bernadetta von Varley: Ranger. Pretending or not, it’s fair to assume Bernadetta would prefer to keep her distance from opponents whenever possible. Archery would likewise suit her inclination toward the storytelling aspect of the game rather than intense combat. Although, in time, she would prove as efficient and deadly with a bow in the game as she is in reality.

Caspar von Bergliez: Barbarian. It’s widely known that Caspar values sheer strength, and living out a fantasy of might beyond what is attainable would be quite enjoyable for him. I may even recommend the game to him following this, giving it more consideration. He’ll bring considerable enthusiasm to the table, and his strategic prowess has grown over the course of the war. He’d be a valuable party member.

Dorothea Arnault: Bard. I can only assume she would have no hesitation to choose this class above all others. It features the magic casting she favors, along with a greater emphasis on the performing arts she is so dedicated to. Perhaps she might give you advice on capitalizing on the class’s more caustic attributes as well.

Edelgard von Hresvelg: Fighter. Her Majesty would prefer a cuter class, I’m certain, as the purpose of this game appears to be to pursue ideal situations over pragmatic ones. While she does appreciate the values of decisive combat, Lady Edelgard does enjoy a wide selection of elegant gowns often enough to suggest she’d rather abandon suits of armor altogether as soon as possible. At least the fighter class would grant her that.

Ferdinand von Aegir: Paladin. As if there was any doubt. His chief cause may not be religious in nature, but he does exemplify his own code of ethics sufficiently to still classify as a paladin in his own right. The class cuts a radiant, glorious image that he would likewise be partial to. Ferdinand takes to combat on horseback readily and I presume he would rather that be carried over to the game.

Hubert von Vestra: Wizard. Further magical power gained through persistent research and an observant nature suits me. Being less imaginative than my peers by and large, I’m not inclined to substitute a fantasy for a reality I know to work well. For the sake of our friendship and morale, I could play along otherwise.

Jeritza von Hyrm: Dark Paladin. There could be other options for him, I suppose, but few capture the trajectory and tragedy of his life as well as this. A harbinger of death on horseback as he’s made himself, the imagery certainly fits. He might be persuaded to sit at a table where Mercedes also played, but I can’t fathom that he would otherwise.

Linhardt von Hevring: Cleric. I’d hardly be surprised if he managed to mix artificer in somehow, merely for the ability to design contraptions as he went along. The time spent on them in reality would be excessive, I’m sure. A fictitious battle is infinitely more likely to capture Linhardt’s attention over a real one. It’s less of a strain when the blood isn’t present and the stakes are imaginary.

Petra Macneary: Druid. Such a class could help comfort Petra with any residual homesickness she might feel in these difficult times. No matter how long has passed, she does miss Brigid intensely from time to time. The similarities the class shares with her homeland’s reverence for nature are sparse, I’d expect, but even a small connection is better than nothing. Besides which, it could pose a compelling tactical challenge for her. Petra has a bright intellect, after all.

[armatization-a]

( @vicious-vestra​ ) !! "I love you. I know that’s not enough, but I do." Helen for Bernie. [ accepting ]

“H- hey!”

Bernadetta never liked it when Helen talked herself down, even in the littlest of things. She knew those signs, those subtle little digs made to destroy one’s self esteem that will chip away at a person. It was only minor, but Bernadetta caught it all the same.

“Don’t say that! It’s more than enough. Really!” She grabbed Helen’s hands in hers. “You’re- you’re more than enough. Please don’t ever say that.”