Tumgik
#not to say I think ferdinand would help less just that this post is more abt lorenz and dimi specifically
omgkalyppso · 2 years
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I want to share more now. Here's a letter from Lorenz to Hilda which will one day be part of the next chapter of my hilorenz fic if I ever post it:
Dearest Hilda,
Enbarr is beautiful at this time of year. Less so the company; Ministers and Dukes of every measure seek to use Gloucester as an influence in Garreg Mach, or an authority in Leicester.
Whether this is a vote of confidence or an expectation of my ineptitude, I can hardly say. Perhaps both.
Yet they treated me with far more respect in Ferdinand’s company than I’ve come to expect back home, and I found my stay to be a productive and diverting visit.
I am uncertain to what degree Hubert may think things between he and I are settled, but he was more forthcoming than I would have hoped when it came to ferreting out lingering secrets.
I am also uncertain what he may be withholding. His multiplicity speaks volumes of the secrets he yet holds, and I wonder at the breadth of information he maintains with which to bargain and blackmail.
He was … much like himself, for better or worse. The coastal air must have been comforting — or perhaps horrifying; I cannot measure such assumptions in his character.
I worry now that it may sound as though I had him released to Ferdinand for my own benefit — but I was not aware — I would never have assumed to do so without being transparent of such a thing. With you and Faedolyn, if no one else.
Are there ghosts in Goneril as well as Gloucester? The war has shaped every farm from the rivers to the coast. I did not expect to follow our path to Adrestia, to remember the adrenaline — the fear — the hope.
I dreamed I’d died there, to forever walk that path, with life and peace unattainable in eternity…
I remembered objecting to Claude’s decision to divert a portion of our forces, as we were so few, when forcing our way so deep into Adrestian territory. He was right, certainly, as he often was. How often then, was I wrong?
A walking contradiction. An embarrassment to my father.
I can only hope that the challenges around me are signs that I struggle as a good man, and not a fool.
Perhaps I will confide more of these challenges before the next roundtable, if only to seek your opinion. Even your mockery would be welcome. I admire how you carve your path and your opinion through your nobility — you make it look effortless, and you surely wield that easy decorum just as well to your advantage. Crafting your lax and demure reputation.
I miss when you would let it slip. When you would inject yourself in conversations because you sought to share the zeal of your passion on a particular subject. I have not a single memory of ridicule for your hobbies or interests, unlike my own. Most of which I have never needed nor expected approval of, but which I think now would benefit from council.
If you are overtaxed by your own responsibilities and can spare no time for me, then know that I am not without options, nor so weak-willed as to be paralyzed with indecision barring aid.
I simply miss you.
Is that too plain? I miss everyone, but Saints how I miss you.
You help me remember myself, even in brief, even if only the ideal to which I strive. I am better for knowing you, and … I long to be reunited. A glimpse of your kindness would do much to restore me.
It is disorienting in the extreme to have gone from fighting by your side for years on end to imagining a future where we might meet so rarely…
Your devoted friend, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester
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kenzotayko · 2 years
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Tumindig.
It is exactly 8:30 P.M, in a pretty heavy night of May 10. Just as yesterday, more or less 60 million Filipinos have casted their votes and chose the outcome of our next 6 years. Honestly, as a youth who have been forged hope into the light of a good governance, it was quite disappointing and at the same time infuriating that they have chosen those who are not politically-bounded over those who already proved themselves capable to lead towards recovery. 
Though, the transmission of votes are not yet completed, to be exact - 98.09% have already been transmitted back to the commission. It was a major upset for not just the “Kakampinks” (supporters of VP Leni Robredo & Sen. Kiko Pangilinan) but also the Philippines. The victory is as clear as water for the side of Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr., a namesake, the son of the late dictator and authoritarian, Ferdinand Marcos Sr. 
Honestly, yesterday, I am just feeling heavy after seeing the result. I never knew that was the feeling of heartbreak. It was not something romantical, but with lime light hope for the country to have a better and efficient governance. We wasted another leader that is as unusual as diamond, probably, it would take long time to see another Leni Robredo & Kiko Pangilinan alike in politics. 
Actually, I am not frustrated by VP Leni’s defeat, but the ignorant choice of the people. I actually think that we are evolving backwards as time past. Nightmares of the decades are slowly turning into fake glories of days and those who raped the country will once again bring back to power. 
They never know the consequence of their actions. Others invalidate the feelings and opinions of us, youth. Saying that we shouldn’t be messing up with this election, since we are not yet voters. With all of these, one thing is for sure, they are too egoistic, pathetic, and naïve to understand the situation. Sorry for my words, I just felt that this was the right thing and place to air my concern. I hope you we get through along with this. 
This election is the most historic post-EDSA event yet. It is a do-or-die for the Filipinos. Actually, I don’t even know why are they attacking the opposition instead of helping them with one shared goal. I guess they haven’t realized that this battle is between the Marcoses (including their cronies) and Filipino people. The only aim of the Marcoses is for them to go back to the Malacañang, which Toni Gonzaga explicitly stated as Bongbong’s home. How cool is that?
I totally understand that the “sin of the father, is not the sin of the son.” However, this can’t be applicable to this one since Bongbong benefitted from billions of pesos they’ve stole from the funds of the people, which supposedly for the future generation, which is currently us. He also faces multiple cases of corruption and graft which currently is not being tackled about since they are too soft spoken to act. I mean what’s the point of our system if we will not filter these things out?
The other 9 candidates for presidents are way better than Marcos, I dare you to prove me wrong. I mean he is the worst candidate (by far) to ever run to the highest position of the land. He never attended debates and interview from mass-press. He never gave any platforms for the next 6 years. There were no echoing accomplishments from when he was serving back then. The only promise that he gives is unity (No, it can’t be the answer to everything). Come on guys, how come almost 32 million of 65 voted him? It is just too unacceptable. 
As I have said before and I will probably say it for couple of times, this is the most infamous elections that I have experienced so far. Things were pretty rigged. I indirectly experienced, but I felt the frustrations of those 2 million Filipinos who fight in EDSA just to restore the democracy and freedom to the people. 
With all of these disreputable events, I believe that our life must go on. We should not let them affect our burning passion for change. I am quite glad that I am already on my last part of the grief process. I guess, the only things that could keep us moving forward is to accept things and just hope for the best. I just wish I was wrong and they are correct, I just so wish that the newly elected officials would bring most of what we expect. 
Of course, I will not forget this memorable experience that I would definitely bring forever. I am proud and loud that I took a stand for what is right and just. In my little own ways I have fought for good governance. This is something that I will not get tired of telling my grandchild. Amidst of those odds, I stood and did the best thing I could ever done. 
To VP Leni Robredo & Sen. Kiko Pangilinan & My fellow Filipinos, the fight is not yet over, this is just the start. Let us not forget what we learned - “Radikal ang Magmahal.” 
If there anything that I could be proud of is that
Ako ay tumindig, namulat, at hindi namuli pasisiil. 
(Mabuhay ang Pilipinas)
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threehousing · 1 year
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*pulls up a chair* tell me about the tragedy and heartbreak of ferdinand's character
SHYD YOU ASKED FOR THIS. THE CAN OF WORMS HAS BEEN OPENED. THE WORMS ARE OUT.
okay OKAY
ferdinand really fucking kills me because he, as a character, cannot escape the inherent tragedy of his arc in essentially any route. Disregarding his possible "death" ending if you choose to sacrifice him as a playable unit, his ending options are as essentially as follows:
Dies on The Bridge of Myrddin, if unrecruited in VW and AM.
Returns to his war-torn country, having actively fought against it. As such, I'd say it's pretty probable that a good chunk of Adrestians view him as a traitor -- the effects of war and propaganda don't just disappear when the last battle is over.
Installed as PM under Edelgard -- given that she tells him absolutely nothing in CF, I'd say it's not too much of a stretch to assume this continues afterwards. In this scenario, his kept in the dark about essentially everything and is never seen or viewed as an equal or true friend, only ever as a useful, manipulable ally.
Let's dig into this further.
In every route, his father is killed, his lands seized, and everything he's known his whole life is ripped away from him for reasons that he does not understand at the time. Now, sure, irl i would be of the stance "cry me a river Mr Landed Gentry", BUT I am nothing if not nuanced and on a human level these events would be incredibly traumatic. His entire life and the future he thought he'd have is ripped out from under him.
From there, he has two choices: one, go with Edelgard; or two, fight against her.
Now I have my thoughts and opinions on which is more realistic for his character (the motivations of the BE on CF is always kinda. unclear and questionably-ooc to me, but I digress. It's a game mechanic. whatever.), but both come with a great deal of tragedy.
If he goes with Edelgard, he essentially goes against his morals. I find CF Ferdie particularly heartbreaking. In the little chats you can have with him in explore, a lot of his dialogue thinly veils how conflicted he is. In chpt 14 he wonders what his life would be like if he'd made different choices. This does not sound to me like the thoughts of an untroubled man. He also actively worries about the lives of those living on the front line, which. Babyboy </3
By the end of CF though, he seems to have lost that sense of guilt, and bought into Edelgard's view. It's. Interesting. From a character perspective. He very much loses that fire that pits him so strongly against Edel in white clouds. My experience of playing it was kind of like watching a spark die out.
Afterwards, his ending says he becomes PM. Now, given how Edelgard behaves towards him in CF, I can't imagine much changes post-war. She's not just gonna become some paragon of virtue and honesty all of a sudden.
The heartbreak of Ferdinand on this route, in my opinion, isn't so much that something horrible happens to him -- he only actually dies in 2 possible routes (un-recruited) -- but it's that he's inherently less than he is elsewhere. His core character traits, pride, moral drive, and a desire to help other people*, are rotted on CF. He's the worst version of himself.
(*granted, in an incredibly obnoxious and privileged way, but he repeats endlessly that the reason he's so gung-ho for nobility is bc he thinks they're there to help the people. It's a view that's so, so niave, but his intentions are good. At his core he is an good person.)
(Defo comes across here, but CF is my least favourite route because I found it downright harrowing to play. This is one of the many reasons.)
On SS, this doesn't happen, but equally he is still quite sidelined -- something that is the fate of all the BEs on SS, I think. The writing doesn't really lean on them at all, which I thought was a bit weak: just because you lose your house leader on SS, doesn't mean the other students should be ignored too. If anything, you'd think it'd be the opposite. Alas, I guess.
But yeah, SS should really be the route that Ferdinand gets to flourish in -- with Edelgard as the active enemy, it would make sense to have Ferdinand step into the role of leading the other BE (except Petra bc she's a literal princess, but the game never pays that any mind at all, and that's a whole different rant. anyway--) but he doesn't. Instead we get Seteth and Flayn on SS -- which no hate, I love them, but, again, does mean Ferdie and the other BEs get sidelined a lil.
In this route, he's lost his family, his lands, his title, his home, his country -- and now he's fighting against it. Quite possibly, fighting against people he knows, while his own people suffer -- it's not canon, but given that Hyrm was granted to Arundel to govern after Ferdie's shitty dad is removed, it'd make sense for Aegir land to also be granted to Arundel. Can't imagine the people there are having a great time either. That's not canon, of course, but someone's gotta be in charge of Aegir land, and it's sure as hell not Ferdinand at that time, given he's... y'know... fighting against the Empire.
AM and VW are basically the same deal as SS, except depending on who you recruit can be more upsetting. How many of his friends are you making him fight? How many are you making him kill? How many of his friends is he watching die, cut down by his own choices?
His endings for SS, VW, and AM are, in my opinion, less fundmentally upsetting than CF? He retains his moral backbone, retains his stregth of character. He returns to his country victorious and able to change it for the better. But -- what kind of toll does it all take on him? To have his whole life flipped upside down, torn from him, twisted beyond recognition? Everything he's ever known is gone, and he has to pick up the pieces.
Meanwhile, he has to come to terms with the fact that he fought against his own country. What kind of inner conflict and agony does that cause someone? Someone who is so proud of who they are. What does it do, recognising that what they are proud of is actually contrary to all the morals they thought it stood for? Those morals that he made the foundation of who he is? And then to follow those morals and fight against the very thing he held so dear?
He's gonna need some therapy. Magic fantasy therapy or whatever.
ANYWAY THIS HAS GOT SO LONG. Gonna cut myself off before it reaches any more words that I have to proof read. Have I. Have I made literally ANY sense??? Ferdinand is so inescapely upsetting, man. So are so many characters in 3H (basically every blue lion springs to mind), but I feel like the Tragedy of Ferdinand von Aegir is not one mentioned all that often.
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butwhatifidothis · 2 years
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I saw your post about Ignatz being ruined by CF and it had me thinking, what do you think about Lysithea's relationship with Edelgard and her status as an Honorary Black Eagle? How much does Crimson Flower ruin Lysithea's characterization?
Her relationship with Edelgard is one I'm... mixed about.
Like, I try to give it more benefit of the doubt than some others I've seen and that it is Edelgard genuinely trying to make Lysithea feel better - note I say that and not "open up to her" because that is not something she tries to do, she's still pretty closed off and secretive with her.
But what messes that up for me is that she does that by trying to say that Crests are the only reason there are titles to nobility, which is abjectly false and something both of them would know. In the Empire, House Bergliez is one of the most important noble houses - no Crest to speak of. In the Alliance, Margrave Edmund replaces the Major House status of House Daphnel, a house with one of the 10 Elites' Crests - straight up has no Crest. To be fair, this is a problem 3H as a whole has with nonsensical ideas about the supposed societal power Crests give to those who have them and is something that pops up in Lysithea's supports with Hanneman as well, so this is just another victim of that.
But besides that, Lysithea says that her parents suffered as much as they did because of their nobility, which... is certainly a strange way to put what happened to House Ordelia. They were ruined because they tried to help House Hrym and were "punished" by Ionius (saying punished as though they did something wrong, which to be honest they didn't) - it's because of Ionius centralizing power onto himself and getting rid of anyone who even tangentially stopped him from doing that that caused House Ordelia's torment. Nothing suggests that House Ordelia would have gone through any trouble at all were it not for that, so to blame it on "their nobility" frankly makes no sense. Wanting to leave the pressures of nobility after such a devastating loss is far more understandable, but the placement of blame feels misguided.
And, furthering that, you have Lysithea saying that she doesn't want to "continue on with her family" during an explore dialogue after Capturing Derdriu, which is literally the opposite of what she says she wants to do literally everywhere else in the game. Like with Ignatz, her motivations flip on their head and go against what she stands for in the rest of the game.
And their supports ignore the gigantic elephant in the room, which is that Ionius was the one to send TWS agents to Ordelia as "punishment" for helping Hrym. That thing that was him trying to centralize power onto himself. That thing Lysithea knows for a fact was the reason for it, as per her paralogue with Ferdinand where she confirms his rendition of the Insurrection and her supports/VW scene where she reveals what happened to her family. And now she's seeing Edelgard do the same thing - consolidate power onto herself by getting rid of opposition and other people of power in foreign nations - but on a far more massive scale and with a far higher body count and far more foreboding ramifications. And she's just. Fine with that. For some reason.
Oh yeah, and then there's Edelgard never telling Lysithea that she's helping out their torturers. That cute little detail that I promise Lysithea had no right to know and Edelgard totally isn't extremely shady at best for never revealing, I swear.
All in all, I think Lysithea on CF makes arguably less sense than most anyone else in the cast. Her working with the Empire is directly against what she wants everywhere else, which is bringing it down for what it did to her and her family. The suffering brought about by the Empire isn't something that's ever addressed in her relationship with Edelgard, even though her father was the reason the suffering happened at all and even though Edelgard is doing what her father did to Ordelia to the entirety of Fodlan. The reason Lysithea is following Edelgard is something that is repeatedly shown to be untrue. Her saying that she wants nothing to do with her family is flat out out of character. There's just far too many contradictions in their relationship - and with Lysithea joining the Empire at all - to have me believe it's good
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miss-1ng · 3 years
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51 on the kiss prompts with ferdibert but it's hubert that initiates it 👀
of course anon!!! I posted this much later than I intended but I hope it's alright :)
Featuring: a very Jealous Hubie and (i can't help myself) some minor edelthea!!
--
It’s not natural for Hubert to show public displays of affection with his beloved. He’s a naturally closed off person after all, so forgive him if he’s not too enthused with showing off to strangers he’s in a relationship that makes him happy.
Ferdinand, and bless him, knows this, only sometimes letting their hands brush in public (which causes Hubert’s face to immediately heat up) but never anything above that.
(“Why?” Ferdinand had asked when they had returned home that very evening a while after Hubert had flinched when the man interlaced their fingers at the opera they were attending. “Is it… is it me?”
That broken look in his eyes shattered his heart into a million fractures, and he desperately pressed a kiss to Ferdinand’s jaw.
“It’s not you,” he murmured in his ear as he pulled away begrudgingly, a tad annoyed to not be close to Ferdinand like he was. “I… this is new for me. If it’s alright with you, could we refrain from such displays in public until this is more…”
“…more serious?” Ferdinand asked, eyes twinkling. He smiled, lips looking so soft in the light of the moon shining above them. “Of course, my love.” He pressed another kiss to Ferdinand’s lips, pulling him close.)
But now, Ferdinand looked very uncomfortable as noble woman surround him, breaking him away from Hubert who had to attend to Edelgard who is busy in conversation with her wife. Something ugly twists in Hubert’s stomach at the sight of Ferdinand being dragged to a dance by one of the women.
Per Hubert’s request, the two had decided to keep their relationship a secret, even from their closest friends (even Edelgard, somehow).
“Hubie!” Dorothea exclaims with a smile, waving him over. “How are you?”
“I am fine,” he says. “How are you two?”
His eyes flick down to their entwined hands, and Edelgard smirks at him. Her wife really is a bad influence on her. “We’re good, Hubert,” Edelgard says. “I must admit – I will never get used to you here.”
“Me in a ball?” he asks with arched eyebrows.
Edelgard nods, barely holding back her giggle unlike Dorothea who just laughs at him. “Ferdie looks like he could take a break.” The trio immediately all look to the Prime Minister who wears a strained smile as he looks down at the noble he’s dancing with.
Ferdinand stops, saying something inaudible to her before joining them. His eyes flick up to Hubert, and his smile grows the tiniest bit. Hubert feels his face heat up, though tries to muster a calm expression.
“Dorothea, Edelgard,” he greets, breathless. “You two look wonderful. How are y-”
“Ferdinand!” the same noble woman squeaks suddenly, tugging on his boyfriend’s hand. “Would you like to dance with me?”
Ferdinand looks defeated, opening his mouth to say something before Hubert thinks, oh flames, and pulls him into a kiss, on the lips no less, cupping the man’s chin in his hands.
He breaks off, eyes wide as he feels eyes dig holes into the back of his skull. Ferdinand (the devil) looks amused, lips quirking up while Dorothea stares slack jawed as Edelgard hands her some money. Hubert squints. Were they betting on the two of them?
“I knew it,” he hears Dorothea whisper to Edelgard. “I knew they’re together!”
“I-” Hubert turns to Ferdinand, who is free of that noble. He can feel his face flush. “Shall we dance, my love?”
Ferdinand takes his hand. “I never took you for jealous,” he whispers, before pulling Hubert onto the ballroom floor. “Thank you for saving me back there.”
Hubert smiles faintly, leaning forward to kiss him once more. “My pleasure.”
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fellhellion · 3 years
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can you make a rec list of your favorite fe3h fics? if that's alright?
OF COURSE I WOULD LOVE TO <3 always happy to give my fave works a shoutout <33333
Though mind u this is going to be a LOT so ill pop them under a cut
from the heart in exile
TLDR: platonic hubert edelgard fic that haunts me. It’s extremely good with really well written character voices and focuses on these two characters trying to find out who they are beyond the war with their friends refusing to leave them behind
Summary: 
You can’t speak just yet to whether time—and age? experience? not that war or rulership have given you much of the latter, at least in the area of gardening—has made your thumbs any less brown, but the house in the Oghma Mountains is surrounded by so many growing things it hardly seems to matter. It sits at the edge of a forest, on the gentle lower slopes, and the people in the nearest town had all smiled to speak of it when they pointed the way for Hubert, the day you arrived. A number of them were old enough to remember what it had been like, years ago, in the warm and golden before, and to insist that it had not changed in the ways that mattered. It was still full of light. The air still smelled green.
In which Edelgard keeps a garden, Hubert learns to fly, and those they leave behind refuse to be left behind.
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Watchtower
TLDR: platonic fic and amazing sylvain character study. Like genuinely one of the best i’ve ever read. If you’re someone who really wanted a deeper exploration of Sylvain’s feelings about Dimitri this fic is for u. 
Summary: 
When Sylvain is six and a half and climbs to the top of a tower with no one’s hand in his, he realizes that each and every one of the people he loves has been born as a gift to something else. Dimitri was born for Faerghus, and Felix was born for Dimitri. Glenn was born for the royal family, and Ingrid was born for Galatea and for Glenn. He realizes, too, that what they’re for decides their future. Dimitri will lead them into a better world. Felix will guide his path, and Glenn will protect his life, and Ingrid will bind her future to theirs.
And Sylvain, who was born for the border, will stand in a watchtower. He will see the enemy before it comes, and he will keep Dimitri and Felix and Ingrid and Glenn safe.
Dimitri reappears after five years. Sylvain knows it's his role to fix the mess they're in, but he doesn't know how.
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little light
TLDR: really good exploration of flayn and seteth’s relationship (+ with his wife and flayn’s mother) pre canon (also post canon if i remember right) just a really good if heartbreaking family fic 
Summary: 
"She is beautiful, and she is perfect. It is foolish to say so, because the goddess herself says perfect beings cannot exist - but Cichol knows now she must have been wrong, because his daughter is perfect. They name her Cethleann. In the old tongue, it means 'light.'"
Cichol, Cethleann, what they lost, and who they became.
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conjure the wind, ease my mind
TLDR: this author in general writes FANTASTIC work so pls check out their whole repertoire. a platonic fic between holst and claude w an exploration of claude’s past that’s just so good....found brotherhood i am WEEPING 
Summary: 
“I’d like to know what’s wrong. I’d like to help if I can.”
Calculating green eyes lock onto Holst’s own, but this time they’re laced with something a little bit like resignation
Many people call Duke Riegan a liar, but Holst feels like he knows the young man a bit better than that. To call him a liar is wrong, you see, because all Claude has ever really done is master the art of giving up as little of the truth as possible. He keeps truth close, treats it like a valuable commodity.
“I have three brothers,” he says. “Half-brothers.”
***
Claude won’t spar with Holst and Holst wants to know why.
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my fellow passerine
TLDR: same author as before and just...god this fic is so good. a platonic exploration of the relationship between Claude and Cyril. This fic has it all: found brotherhood, worldbuilding about Almyra, Claude character study, CYRIL character study. it’s just fantastic 
Summary:
Then the Alliance delegation shows up, and their offering strolls through the gates of the monastery like he already owns the place.
A reminder, for those who need it: Cyril is not an idiot. He has good eyes and he uses them.
An observation, for those who want it: The Golden Deer house leader is Almyran.
~
Cyril knows a lot more than he lets on, Claude is far less covert than he thinks he is, and messing with the guy your parents told you was a possibly-unkillable demon-prince isn’t usually supposed to earn you a lasting friendship but hey… life is already pretty damn weird.
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Autotomy
TLDR: god this ferdibert fic just fucking...destroys me. i cannot get through it without crying at least twice and usually more. it’s basically a CF canon divergence with a heavy HEAVY exploration of ferdinand and hubert’s perspectives towards usefulness and how abelist thinking affects that in their efforts to find Shambala after Ferdinand loses his sight from one of Hubert’s experimental spells. All while falling in love. this fic is VERY fucking heavy, please mind the tags, it’s amazing but it’s subject matter is something you need to be very aware of. Also i would highly reccomend reading the prequel to this fic as it provides some critical context to Hubert’s actions that you don’t get through Ferdinand’s flawed pov. Basically this author is a master of character perspective.
Summary: 
Ferdinand von Aegir's war record ends in 1182. The war does not.
Or, blind man's bluff.
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Coming of Age
TLDR: same author as before and god...just my FAVOURITE ferdinand character study. Takes place within the period Byleth is away. I don’t want to spoil anything but it’s incredible. Mines the fantastic character drama hook between Edelgard and Ferdinand that canon DIDNT rip
Summary: 
Ferdinand was a general. In theory. Edelgard had promised him continued command of his battalion, and a general needed a certain measure of wealth to supply his horses, his servants, his armor and rations and lodgings and, she’d promised.
But his father sat rotting in a cell, or worse, and it could be nothing more than a fable they thought him simple enough to believe. What did promises matter?
When the house of Aegir collapses around him, Ferdinand struggles to forge a path forward. He quickly discovers he can't manage it alone -- and neither, perhaps, can Edelgard.
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Another Life
TLDR: same author AGAIN (can u tell theyre my favourite fjsdhfk). Ferdibert fic, a man loving his partner and trying to figure out the best way to support them as they silently wrestle with questions about their gender identity is something that can be so PERSONAL and make u CRY god. also dark flier hubert my beloved. 
Summary: 
Ferdinand notices things. He cannot say what he notices, precisely, because he has no one to ask, and if he were to ask Hubert it would damn well result in every questioned moment up and vanishing forever behind a new wall of prickly austerity. Ferdinand cannot risk that. The things that he notices stick in his chest, and he thinks only, but.
Hubert wrestles with unasked questions; Ferdinand wrestles with a pegasus.
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Beneath the Sheets of Paper Lies My Truth
TLDR: Dimilix fic in my FAVOURITE fucking format of secondary in game historical sources exploring their relationship in retrospective.
Summary:
It was said that Duke Fraldarius’s grief at King Dimitri’s death was more potent than even the queen’s—but said by whom, and how, and why?
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A Fair Day’s Work
TLDR: Post CF Canon ferdibert where Hubert and Ferdinand’s overworked aides desperately try to get them together so they’ll be too busy being uhhhh AMOUROUS to give them so much work. Very much a romantic comedy with very fun OCs as our protags. 
Summary:
“I may have some coffee in the place for you,” said Prime Minister Aegir. “Let me show you how much better I have become at brewing it to your taste.”
“If you insist,” said Minister Vestra but he sounded pleased. To Delarivier, who had literally made it her profession to attune herself to his tone (usually ranging from sort-of-murder-y to extremely-murder-y), Minister Vestra sounded very pleased indeed.
--
Ferdinand and Hubert's long-suffering aides figure out a way to work fewer hours.
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Roost
TLDR: Dimilix post AM Canon with some pre canon moments. Basically an exploration of the complexity of their relationship with bird symbolism and extra Holy Kingdom lore. Gifting ur lover a vulture is something that can be so personal fksdhfsjkd
Summary:
Dimitri makes an affirmative noise. Then he takes a breath, voice leveling out into what Felix had long ago dubbed his 'future king voice', all steady explanation: “Long ago, the saying fledged right along with the nobles' and royal family's love of hawking, and it has remained a common phrase from one generation to the next. As adviser to the king, the duke is meant to be regal and strong, even deadly when required, from his place at the king's side. To always act as the most piercing, watchful eyes over the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and her sovereign."
He looks over to Felix as soon as his mouth snaps shut on the final word, as always seeking approval on his recitations.
Felix tilts his head, trying to look unimpressed. “I like eagles.”
A hand automatically comes up to cover the lower half of Dimitri's face, muffling the inarticulate sound of a snort of amusement. “That is good, since you are to be mine.”
***
They say an eagle watches over Fhirdiad.
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A faint and faraway sound
TLDR: Ferdibert with an excellent Hubert centric character study....just so good...makes me warm and fuzzy...the mutual pining and ROMANCE of it all
Summary: 
Hubert learns to be a person, with a lot of help and complication along the way.
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In golden light
TLDR: A really REALLY good ferdibert fic with ferdinand centric pov that focuses on him reflecting on his life as he prepares the Aegir house to become a boarding school. Ferdinand sibling exploration is ABOUND here and it’s great
Summary: 
When his family's summer home at Lake Aegir is set to be converted to a boarding academy, Ferdinand pays it one last visit and contemplates his complicated relationship with family, love, and legacy.
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one three four three four zero
TLDR: the fic that actually got me into dimilix. VERY heavy character study and you NEED to mind both the general fic tags and the content warnings the author lists for each chapter but it’s incredible. Takes a very familiar trope and just. slams you in the face with over 60k words of amazing character study. 
Summary: 
“How are you going to get the One-Eyed Demon of Garreg Mach, the Boar Prince of Faerghus, smuggled past Dukedom soldiers? What plan could you possibly have to get a creature that incapable of even pretending it isn’t a bloodthirsty beast into Dominic without getting caught?”
The Professor gives him one of their steady, unreadable stares. They definitely do not and could not possibly have answered him, “You’re going to pretend to be married to him.”
or, How to Pretend to be Married When One of You Can't Stop Hallucinating and the Other One Uses Hostility to Cope
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Treat Your S(h)elf: A German Officer in Occupied Paris: The War Journals, 1941-1945 by Ernst Jünger (2019)
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Keeping a journal: The short entries are often as dry as instant tea. Writing them down is like pouring hot water over them to release their aroma.
- Ernst Jünger,  A German Officer in Occupied Paris: The War Journals, 1941-1945 (2019)
Paris is very much my home these days and so I enjoy reading about the history of this beautiful city. It is difficult to live in Paris today and conjure up much sense of the city in the early 1940s. It is indeed, as it is called throughout the world, the City of Light. But back in 1940 when France fell and Paris occupied until its liberation on 24 August 1944, it was a city in darkness. Like so much else that happened in France during World War II, the Nazi occupation of Paris was something entirely more complex and ambiguous than has generally been understood.
We tend to think of those four years as difficult but minimally destructive by comparison with the hell the Nazis wreaked elsewhere in the country. But as recent historians have shown the Nazi occupation was a terrible time for Paris, not just because the Nazis were there but because Paris itself was complicit in its own humiliation. As the historian Ronald Risbottom has shown in his compelling book, ‘When Paris went Dark’, “Even today, the French endeavour both to remember and to find ways to forget their country’s trials during World War II; their ambivalence stems from the cunning and original arrangement they devised with the Nazis, which was approved by Hitler and assented to by Philipe Petain, the recently appointed head of the Third Republic, that had ended the Battle of France in June of 1940. This treaty - known by all as the Armistice - had entangled France and the French in a web of cooperation, resistance, accommodation, and, later, of defensiveness, forgetfulness, and guilt from which they are still trying to escape.”
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It is almost certainly a unique event in human history, one in which a ruthless and unscrupulous invader occupied a city known for its sophistication and liberality, declining to destroy it or even to exact physical damage on more than a minority of its citizens yet leaving it in a state of “embarrassment, self-abasement, guilt and a felt loss of masculine superiority that would mark the years of the Occupation. To this day, more than one visitor or foreigners living in Paris are struck by how sensitive Paris and Parisians remain about the role of the city and its citizens in its most humiliating moment of the twentieth century.
Indeed bringing up the subject with French friends, my French partner’s family, or even relatives (by marriage - such as a French aunt married to my Norwegian uncle or the French partners of my cousins here in France) is like walking on egg shells. It brings up too many distant ghosts for many families. Nearly every household has a story. It can be one of resistance or one of collaboration or (more likely) one of passive indifference and acceptance.
And yet I remain fascinated and intrigued partly because of historical interest and partly out of curiosity about the human condition under stress. In Britain - despite the trauma of daily bombardment from German bombers - the country was never invaded. And so whilst war brings out the best and worst in people, it was altogether a different experience to the one experienced by mainland European countries. I don’t think we British truly have understood of life was really like under occupation and the choices people are willingly or not made just to survive the war.
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The history of Paris from 1940 to 1944 gives the lie to the old childhood taunt: Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me. The Germans for the most part spared Parisians sticks and stones (except, of course, Parisians who were Jewish), but the “names” they inflicted in the form of truncated freedoms, greatly reduced food and supplies, an unceasing fear of the unexpected and calamitous, and the simple fact of their inescapable, looming presence did deep damage of a different kind. It traumatised the city and its inhabitants in ways very little understood by others, especially Britain.
The carefully curated image of French resistance against the Nazis has been asked to serve critical functions in that nation’s collective memory. The manufactured myth served to postpone for a quarter of a century deeper analyses of how easily France had been beaten and how feckless had been the nation’s reaction to German authority, especially between 1940 and 1943. And yet the myth of a universal resistance was important to France’s idea of itself as a beacon for human liberty. It was also badly needed as an example of the courage one needed in the face of monstrous political ideologies.
There remained the ethical questions that would haunt France for decades: Which actions, exactly, constitute collaboration and which constitute resistance? It is still asking these questions over 70 years later. But behind such question lies a deeper and more haunting question of moral culpability that many are quick to throw responsibility - along with their own shame of inaction - onto others but not look inwards at their own guilt and passivity.
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But what about the occupiers? What did they feel? Were the German Wehrmacht during the day simply tourists sitting in cafes, dining on gourmand food, buying silk stockings and the latest fashions for their wives back home and by night drinking and debauching on the cultural and seedy delights of Paris?
Moral culpability is a question that Ernst Jünger, the celebrated German author, never asks himself of his time as a German officer in Paris. But culpability is a question that looms large after reading the war journals of Ernst Jünger from 1941-1945, now published by Columbia University Press as A German Officer in Occupied Paris: The War Journals, 1941-1945. It should have been re-titled as a ‘A German writer pre-occupied by Parisian night life and his navel’.
Ernst Jünger (1895-1998) was what is sometimes called a “controversial” figure. A First World War hero who was wounded seven times, he was undoubtedly uncommonly brave. He also insisted that those who were less brave should play their part, forcing retreating soldiers to join his unit at gunpoint. His 1920 book Storm of Steel (In Stahlgewittern), recounting his war experiences and portraying war in a heroic light, made him famous. In the 1920s he became involved in anti-democratic right-wing groups like the paramilitary Freikorps and wrote for a number of nationalist journals. He remained aloof from the Nazis, however, and, while he boasted that he “hated democracy like the plague”, was more of a nationalist than a racist. 
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Jünger spent much of the Second as an officer stationed in Paris, where these war journals are an almost daily record of the views and impressions of a well-read literary figure, entomologist, and cultural critic, now available for the first time in English translation in A German Officer in Occupied Paris. Posted in white-collar positions in Paris with the German military during the 1940-1944 occupation.
Nazi Germany produced two wartime diaries of equal literary and historical significance but written from the most different perspectives conceivable: Victor Klemperer and Ernst Jünger. Victor Klemperer wrote furtively, in daily dread of transport to an extermination camp, a fate he was spared by the firebombing of Dresden. Ernst Jünger, by contrast, had what was once called a “good war.” As a bestselling German author, he drew cushy occupation duty in Paris, where he could hobnob with famous artists and writers, prowl antiquarian bookstores, and forage for the rare beetles he collected. Yet Klemperer and Jünger both found themselves anxiously sifting propaganda and hearsay to learn the truth about distant events on which their lives hung.
For English-speaking readers who do not know his work, A German Officer in Occupied Paris shows the many sides of this complex, elusive writer.
In the judicious and helpful foreword by San Francisco-based historian Elliot Neaman, who says. “Like a God in France, Jünger operated on the edge of politics in Paris, rather like a butterfly fluttering among the resistors and collaborators. He didn’t trust the generals, who had taken a personal oath to Hitler, to be able to carry out a coup.”
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Jünger had visited the city prior to the war, was fluent in French, and now had the contacts and the time to become even more familiar with the French capital. During his stay in Paris he met painters such as Georges Braque and Pablo Picasso as well as literary figures including Louis-Ferdinand Céline and Jean Cocteau, all of whom figure in his Journals, which reflect a view of Paris that had become a tourism mecca during the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
To Jünger, Paris was “a capital, symbol and fortress of an ancient tradition of heightened life and unifying ideas, which nations especially lack nowadays” (30 May 1941). After wandering around the Place du Tertre, near the Sacré Cœur Cathedral in the Montmartre section of Paris, he wrote: “The city has become my second spiritual home and represents more and more strongly the essence of what I love and cherish about ancient culture” (18 September 1942). At the same time, Jünger was aware of the “shafts of glaring looks” with which he was sometimes viewed by locals as he wandered in uniform through the city’s streets and byways (18 August 1942, 89, and 29 September 1943).
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A German Officer in Occupied Paris is divided into four parts: the “First Paris Journal,” his writings from 1941 through October 1942; “Notes from the Caucasus,” continuing his account through February 1943; the “Second Paris Journal,” covering the period from his return to Paris through the liberation of France in the late summer of 1944; and finally the “Kirchhorst Diaries,” his account of having been placed in charge of the local militia [Volkssturm] and his reflections on the bombings and imminent defeat of Germany.
The “First Paris Journal” reflects the comings and goings of a German officer and writer happy to rediscover Paris at a time when it seemed clear that Germany had won the war and would dominate France and perhaps Europe indefinitely. Closer physically to the fighting following his transfer to the East in October 1942, Jünger devoted greater attention to the fighting and the raw nature of the German-Soviet struggle in “Notes from the Caucasus.”
By the time he returned to Paris and began his “Second Paris Journal” in February 1943, the Germans had been defeated at Stalingrad and it had become increasingly evident that a titanic struggle loomed and that the Germans might well lose the war.
The final section, the “Kirchhorst Diaries,” is set against the backdrop of the Allied invasion of Germany, accompanied by intense bombing and the destruction of German cities and homes including Jünger’s own, and the seemingly countless numbers of civilian refugees seeking shelter and food. Through it all, Jünger continues his reading, including that of the Bible, his book collecting, and visits to antiquarian booksellers when possible, and his chats with various literary figures in Paris and, at times, in Germany.
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Much of the material in the Journals is introspective, with Jünger addressing his innermost thoughts and dreams. Snakes also appear with some frequency in the Journals, for example, in the entry of 13 July 1943, where during a restless night because of air raid sirens in Paris, he recalls having dreamt of dark black snakes devouring more brightly colored ones. In the Journal entry, he linked snakes back to primal forces incarnating life and death, and good and evil. This connection, he noted, was the reason people fear the sight of a snake, “almost stronger than the sight of sexual organs, with which there is also a connection” (13 July 1943). Following a conversation with the “Doctoresse,” the name that Jünger used for Sophie Ravoux, with whom he was intimate and had an affair in Paris, he described his own manner of thinking as “atomistically by osmosis and filtration of the smallest particles of thoughts.” His thought process, he explained, ran not according to principles of cause and effect but rather at the “level” of the vowels of a sentence, on the molecular level; “This explains why I know people who couldn’t help becoming my friends, even through dreams” (22 January 1944). Addressing Eros and sexual organs, Jünger added that he wished to study the connections between language and physique. Colours also had spiritual values, “Just as green and red are part of white, higher entities are polarised in intellectual couples—as is the universe into blue and red”.
Jünger’s position as an army captain gave him a panorama of the war that left no room for heroes. Violence became a grim leveller that made ideologies interchangeable. Germans on the eastern front were reading On the Marble Cliffs as a condemnation of Soviet Russia rather than of Nazi Germany. Hitler had unleashed a dehumanising force on the world, one that made Russians, Germans, the French Resistance and Allied pilots all look the same, locked in an escalating cycle of cruelty. Jünger witnessed Allied planes strafing screaming children in the streets, releasing bombs timed to explode while presents were handed out on Christmas Eve. Accounts drifted in of Parisian friends, who had once tried to transcend national boundaries with him through measured discussion in the salons, being harassed as collaborators. His summary of this second war could have been a reverse of the first: ‘Inactivity brings men together, whereas battle separates them.’
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The picture of Jünger’s political views that emerges in his Journals, however, is a highly chivalric and military elitist one in which a small number of bold idealists, for lack of a better term, struggle against demos and technocracy, democracy and technicians, who are destroying the soul of an older European society. Writing while back home in Kirchhorst on 6 November 1944, following the expulsion of the Germans from France and walking around viewing the destruction wrought by the Allied bombs in Germany, he observed: “As I walked, I thought about the cursory style of contemporary thinkers, the way they pronounce judgment on ideas and symbols that people have been working on and creating for millennia. In so doing they are unaware of their own place in the universe, and of that little bit of destructive work allocated to them by the world spirit.”
He went on to criticise “the old liberals, Dadaists, and free-thinkers, as they begin to moralise at the end of a life devoted to the destruction of the old guard and the undermining of order.” Jünger then referred to Dostoevsky’s novel The Demons, in which the sons of Stepan Trofimovich “are encouraged to scorn anything that had formerly been considered fundamental.” Having destroyed their father, these “young conservatives,” now sensing “the new elemental power” of “the demos,” are then dragged to their deaths. In the ensuing chaos, “only the nihilist retains his fearsome power.” Jünger mentions Hindenburg, and the destruction of the conservatives by the Nazis is clearly implied (6 November 1944).
In August 1943, he described his political views as a combination of Guelph (relating to the medieval supporters of the Pope against the Holy Roman Emperor), Prussian, Gross-Deutscher (in support of a Greater Germany including Austria), European, and citizen of the world “all at once.” As he put it, “My political core is like a clock with cog wheels that work against each other.” However, he added: “Yet, when I look at the face of the clock, I could imagine a noon when all these identities coincide” (1 August 1943).
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While violence raged all around, Jünger continued his secret diary, for publication after the war. This ended for him when American tanks rumbled through his village in April 1945, Jünger proclaiming that the deeper the fall, the greater the ensuing rise. Jünger survived investigation in the immediate postwar period and went on to become a grand old man of German literature, with a considerable following at home and abroad. A year before his death he was – as the phrase goes – received into the Catholic church. Having lived through a violent century he expired in his bed in his 103rd year.
The war journals is a highly nuanced, albeit self-made, picture of a human being in the middle of World War II, who is a flirtatious fascist, yet who apparently seems to care for other human beings, regardless of their so-called social strata or race. Take for example this entry dated Paris, 28 July 1942, “The unfortunate pharmacist on the corner: his wife has been deported. Such benign individuals would not think of defending themselves, except with reasons. Even when they kill themselves, they are not choosing the lot of the free who have retreated into their last bastions, rather they seek the night as frightened children seek their mothers. It is appalling how blind even young people have become to the sufferings of the vulnerable; they have simply lost any feeling for it. They have become too weak for the chivalrous life. They have even lost the simple decency that prevents us from injuring the weak. The opposite is true: they take pride in it.”
Having said that, I found some of the contents repugnant as Jünger, a devout entomologist, easily writes about finding a new insect while fires are burning all around Paris in 1943. Indeed Jünger paints himself as the detached botanist-scholar, determined to survive and help the world recover in peacetime. For him, the best way to avoid being sucked into the vortex of violence was to disconnect from emotion and group mentalities: to feel nothing and be on no one’s side, only bearing witness. A detached eye in the storm.
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His journal is a hedonistic carousel, as he frequented theatres, literary salons and Left bank bookstalls along the Seine, as well as having a meeting of artistic minds with Picasso, Braque and Cocteau. It’s possible to make your way through this collection and have a grand ole time, enjoying the moments when Jünger encounters celebrities like Picasso, or when Monet’s daughter-in-law gives him the key to the gardens at Giverny for his own private tour, or when he describes another gourmet meal with the well-heeled of Parisian society: “The salad was served on silver, the ice cream on a heavy gold service that had belonged to Sarah Bernhardt.” Jünger relishes his name-dropping and his contacts with the upper crust. He sees himself as one of the Übermenschen: “In this country the superior man lives like Odysseus, taunted by worthless usurpers in his own palace.”
The author himself gets lost in the fog of mystic self regard as all artistic writers are prone to do and confesses that in an entry labeled 26 Aug 1942: “At times I have difficulty distinguishing between my conscious and unconscious existence. I mean between that part of my life that has been knit together by dreams and the other.”
To read the diary in chronological order is to realise that Jünger’s submersion in art and literature was his way of preserving his humanity while serving the machinery of a lethally violent state. One way of doing this was through a voracious program of reading, chiefly literature and history, often reading two or three books at once. One is not surprised at the German and French reading but at the abundance of English writers, whom he read in the original—Melville, Joyce, Poe, Conrad, Kipling, Thomas Wolfe, Thornton Wilder, the Brontës, ad infinitum. The range is also remarkable. Jünger pivots from the 1772 fantasy Diable amoureux to a biography of the painter Turner to Crime and Punishment. And throughout the entire diary, one finds him reading the Bible, cover to cover, which he began shortly after his posting to Paris.
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Over and over again I had to remind myself this is a diary. Diaries by definition have one eye on self serving posterity.  
So it’s not surprising that Jünger would tweak reality to create this image of poetic detachment. With his constant  stories of indulgence in Paris, the reader might assume he had no job while he was  there. In fact he was censoring letters and newspapers, a cog in the Nazi machine he so despised. He omits anything that would make him appear a villain. An ongoing extramarital affair in Paris is barely hinted at. But neither does he try to look a hero, omitting how he passed on to Jews information of upcoming deportations, buying them time to escape.
Should he have continued to enjoy his life as a flâneur for so long? He had solid proof of what was going on, debriefed as he was on the mass shootings and death camps on the eastern front. Throughout his career he had railed against inertia, lauding men of action who sacrificed themselves for a just cause. And then such a cause presented itself. Jünger’s colleagues in Paris were involved in the Stauffenberg plot of 1944, and asked for his help. He was one of the most influential conservative voices in Germany at the time, one of the few that Hitler’s followers might have taken seriously. Yet he refused to commit himself during the chaos. Instead, Jünger waited for evil to destroy itself: a fireman who fought the blaze by waiting for the building to burn down. As usual, he inhabited a grey area.
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Jünger remains a problematic figure of controversy, perhaps even emblematic of the aged old question how does one respond to brutish evil? There are no easy answers. Addressing the French who collaborated with Germany during the war Robert Paxton, a well regarded historian of Vichy France wrote, “Even Frenchmen of the best intentions, faced with the harsh alternative of doing one’s job, whose risks were moral and abstract, or practicing civil disobedience, whose risks were material and immediate, went on doing the job. The same may be said of the German occupiers. Many of them were “good Germans,” men of cultivation, confident that their country’s success outweighed a few moral blemishes, dutifully fulfilling some minor blameless function in a regime whose cumulative effect was brutish.”
Was Jünger one of those they called a ‘good German’? Eating sole and duck  at the famous Tour d’Argent restaurant, while gazing down at the hungry civilians in the buildings below was the choice Jünger made. In his 4 Just 1942 diary entry he wrote, “upon the grey sea of roofs at their feet, beneath which the starving eke out their living. In times like this - eating well and much - brings a feeling of power”.
We are always told to speak truth to power. Before we can speak one must think. But thinking truth to power is never enough in itself unless one acts out truth to power. Words without action is nothing. So the question one has to ask even as one reads from the detached safety of distance and time: how would one act in his shoes or indeed a Frenchman’s shoes?
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More than anything, the diary raises, for me at least, the question of moral culpability. It’s impossible to tell what Jünger was really thinking, and so perhaps one tantalising aspect of these war journals is psychological more than anything else. All this stuff is swirling around his life but we hear about the harmless social fluff for the most part. For example, he notes “In Charleville, I was a witness at a military tribunal. I used the opportunity to buy books, like novels by Gide and various works by Rimbaud.” I wanted to hear about the tribunal, but alas, it vanished into Jünger’s damn book buying.
And yet if you judge Jünger by his diary entries alone then it would be very easy to find him guilty. But diaries conceal as much as they reveal. For all the criticism that Jünger has served up a self-serving exculpatory diary, the truth is that he leaves his most selfless acts unmentioned. It is known that he gave advance warning to Jews facing deportation: The writer Joseph Breitbach was one, as he subsequently confirmed, and Walter Benjamin was possibly another.
None of this, for obvious reason, could be committed to paper, nor could the names of Adolf Hitler or any of his henchmen. Instead, their appearances are marked by Jünger’s felicitous code names. Joseph Goebbels, the Nazi chief propagandist, is “Grandgoschier,” a character from Rabelais’s Gargantua and Pantagruel meaning “Big Throat.” SS Chief Heinrich Himmler is “Schinderhannes,” the name of a notorious German highwayman but also a pun on horse knacker. And Hermann Goering is simply “Head Forester,” citing the most fatuous of his many official titles.
Jünger thought a great deal about the mystic and symbolic power of sounds, and he reserved his most apposite pseudonym for Hitler, “Kniébolo,” a name that is at once menacing and absurd. It suggests a kneeling demon (Diabolos), a leitmotif of the diary as Jünger became ever more convinced of Hitler’s essentially Satanic character- in the literal biblical sense.
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So grey areas get more grey when we either try to step back and be detached to render a verdict on Jünger or if we step into his shoes to get inside his head. This is the limitation of a secret and coded diary, no matter how scrupulously written and how fascinating they are to read. Diaries are written for oneself or an imagined other; they play on the satisfactions of monologue. Letters are shaped by the contingencies of distance and time between writer and recipient; they become over time scattered in various places and must be "collected" to form a single body of writing.
Diaries are shaped by moments of inspiration but also by habit; they are woven together by a single voice and usually are contained between covers. Diarists play with the tension between concealing and revealing, between "telling all" and speaking obliquely or keeping silent. Like letter writing, diarists inscribe the risks and pleasures of expression and trust. The diary is an uncertain genre uneasily balanced between literary and historic writing. The diary belongs to the woman where history and literature overlap. So it’s easy to conclude that we will always have ambiguity and tension between these two polar opposites.
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After 1945, Jünger again withdrew into private life, but continued to publish. Seclusion encouraged attention. His reputation grew. Scholarly editions appeared. In three last decades, doubters aside, he enjoyed growing recognition, travelled the world, deepened his knowledge of nature and voiced concern about human damage to the planet. Jünger poured out books late into his nineties. By then he had swept Germany’s top literary prizes and been visited in his Swabian retreat by the statesmen of Europe, including Helmut Kohl and François Mitterrand.
Jünger’s experience of life did little to dent his loathing of liberalism and democracy. On a country walk along a bomb-pitted road near his home late in 1944, Jünger indulges a moment of conservative relish, telling himself that it is liberals who are to blame for all that has befallen. How wonderful it is, he writes sarcastically, “to watch the drama of the old liberals, Dadaists and freethinkers, as they begin to moralise at the end of a life devoted completely to the destruction of the old guard and the undermining of order”&#157;. “Blame the liberals!”&#157; was the reactionary’s charge at birth (there is a profound difference between true conservatism and the extreme reactionary). It hobbled the Weimar Republic and bedevils politics today. Politically, he had learnt nothing. Today Western Europe society is eating itself inwards through the corrosive influence of the woke-ness of cultural Marxism and the conservative now finds himself/herself in the sweetly ironic position of defending the tenets of true liberalism.
For English-speaking readers who do not know his work, A German Officer in Occupied Paris shows the many sides of this complex, elusive writer. These diaries are invaluable about the man and his times. Jünger is nowadays probably less read than read about. So these war journals are to be welcomed and to be read with great interest. 
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For some these journal entries alone will still provide material to debate the moral choices made - and evaded - by Jünger. To critics, Jünger participated too much and judged too little. To defenders, he was indeed on the hard right, but no fascist and, besides, his prose was what mattered, not his politics. Not to pity Jünger’s personal travails would be defective. Not to respond to his prose would be deaf. But all of us can ponder Jean Cocteau’s final verdict, who liked Jünger and considered him a friend but whose aloofness troubled him: “Some people had dirty hands, some had clean hands, but Jünger had no hands.” Jünger may have washed his hands of his time in Paris but the hand of history forever tapping on his shoulder is less forgiving.
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mellomedia · 3 years
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Youth Culture
For Media & Society’s first blog post, our class watched Euphoria, Mid90s, Mean Girls, Kids, and The Breakfast Club. If you haven’t figured out the theme yet, it’s youth culture. Most of these films were set in the 80s and 90s before this current generation. This is the first generation where our lives are saturated by mobile technology and social media (Divecha, 2017). But no matter what generation, youth culture has many common behaviors, or misbehaviors.
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Often when I watch a film or read a comic book, I wonder if I relate to the story or anyone in it. I looked for anything in common I might have with one of the characters in the five films we watched. I can identify with Ray from Mid90s the most. I’m not a die-hard skateboarder like Ray. In fact I can’t skateboard at all, but I dedicate all my time and energy into art and animation. While we have different interests, I can relate to Ray’s passion for something he enjoys and the energy he puts into it. Ray is the top skateboarder in his group and practiced every day. All my spare time is spent drawing and taking online animation courses. My goal is to always do better than what I did yesterday. Words to describe Ray would be the same way I describe myself: down to earth, not concerned with fitting in, my own person, caring, always willing to help, and a very loyal friend. When Stevie joins the skateboard crew in the film Mid90s, he finally digs up some money to buy Ruben’s old, used skateboard. Stevie gets injured while attempting an insane jump over a hole in a roof and breaks his skateboard. Ray sees how much Stevie is trying to fit in, no matter how many falls he takes, he gets back up. Ray has a big heart and builds Stevie a new skateboard. As I mentioned, I’m not a skateboarder, but I enjoy trying to make people smile with my art. I enjoy drawing a cartoon of a friend to help them to get out of a funk or just listen to whatever it is they are going through. 
These films all share a few common themes. One theme is belonging. I admit I looked up the term “fitting in” and it was compared to belonging. Fitting in is defined as to be like other people in a group – what they wear, how they act, how they look. (Pace, 2018) Belonging is a basic human need – it is about acceptance – being where you want to be and being where you are wanted (Pace, 2018). A few examples are Stevie (Mid90s) wants to be accepted into the skateboard crew; Brian (The Breakfast Club) brings a flare gun to school as a suicide attempt because he didn't feel he was good enough; and Cady (Mean Girls) is the new girl trying to get accepted by The Plastics.
My freshman year in high school definitely falls into the theme of belonging. I struggled with speech and have a learning disorder. And at the time I had zero confidence in socializing. I’d walk over to a group of kids in the cafeteria just to try to get involved in the conversation, but I couldn’t form sentences quick enough to jump in. I would be the weird kid just standing there. One day my speech therapist asked me what I wanted to improve and I told her I wanted to gain confidence in socializing. She told me the best way to do this would be to just try to talk to more people. Well in high school that worked with some kids, but not all. I’ll never forget one day in the cafeteria I was trying to find a place to sit and eat lunch. I saw an empty chair at a table where a ‘friend’ was sitting. The group was taking turns roasting one another. At one point another kid challenged me. I was doing fine until he said, “You know people are only nice to you because they don’t want to hurt your feelings.” That hurt like hell. He was referring to my speech impairment. I got up from the table and walked away. And that ‘friend’ at the table didn’t defend me at all. One girl came running over to make sure I was alright. I was pissed and hurt. I was not alright. Just so you don’t think I went off the deep end and had a miserable high school experience, I actually gained a great friend in high school that day. Alex, who was a senior, saw me leave track practice early. My head just wasn’t into track, so I went to sit in the empty cafeteria hoping to clear my head. He asked how things were going and I told him what happened that day. He told me, “It’s not easy finding out who your real friends are. But don’t change for anyone and don’t try to be like anyone else. Just be you.” I’ll never forget how he took the time to talk to me. After his advice, I could care less about belonging.
Another common theme between all five films is rebellion. When they aren’t skateboarding, most of the characters in Mid90s spend their time partying, drinking, and doing drugs. In The Breakfast Club, each character is in detention because they rebelled in some way. Why else would they be in detention? Every character in Kids was a rebel, actually more like a criminal. I bet the writer of the film was too.
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A third theme is “bro” culture. “Bro” culture is defined as people who are bullies but at the end of the day they have your back, like a brother (Sloothunter42, 2018). Two great examples of “bros” are John (The Breakfast Club) and Ian (Mid90s). Throughout The Breakfast Club, John constantly insults the other kids in detention. He even insults the principal. The group escapes detention to wander the hallways. When the principal sees them, John saves the group by telling them to go back to the library while he distracts the principal. This link shows you the scene I’m explaining: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Iq7MRlHg5I (Hughes, 1985). Not something you would have expected from a bully, but you would from a “bro.” In Mid90s, Stevie’s brother, Ian, beats the crap out of him every chance he gets. But when Stevie is laying in a hospital bed after a car accident, his brother is there by his side. He even shares his precious orange juice.
Now onto one of my favorite things in life, music! I put together a playlist that relates to my adolescent experience. In no particular order, here are 10 songs and what each means to me. But let me point out that some song lyrics mean something to me, while with other songs it was the energy it gives off. I’m all about positive energy. First song is “Mr. Blue Sky” by Electric Light Orchestra. I first heard this song during the movie Guardians of the Galaxy. This song kept me motivated and positive during high school. If I was having a bad day, this was my ‘go to’ song. I also listened to it every day on my way to school. Next is “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley, a.k.a. CeeLo Green. This song reminds me of my mind, imagination, and the stuff I think about. I always have a trillion things going on in my head. I guess that explains my poor focus skills and super procrastination. “Inner Ninja” by Classified is another upbeat song. A few lines that always stuck in my head are, “I find my inner strength and I re-up; Here we go, I know I've never been the smartest or wisest; But I realize what it takes; Never dwell in the dark cause the sun always rises.” My junior year of high school I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. It has and still is life-changing and as much as I don’t let it change who I am, I’m human. But as the song says, don’t dwell on the negative, look for the positive. I always remind myself of the positive. “Through the Fire and Flames” by DragonForce always fueled my brain when I was tired of doing homework or studying. To me the lyrics mean to keep moving forward no matter how difficult. Just look at what your goal is and don’t give up. Plus this song has one hell of a guitar solo that is very motivating. Michael Jackson is one of my favorite artists and “Man in the Mirror” reminds me how important it is to try to do good in the world and make a positive change. Regardless of culture, color, religion, and disability, we are all capable of making good changes in the world. I tried this on a much smaller scale in high school by volunteering at the food pantry and community events. “Clint Eastwood” by Gorillaz is one of many songs by this group that I like. It’s not so much the words I relate to, but I love the animation in their music videos. I remember the first time I saw one of their videos I thought how cool and mysterious it was that we only see the singers as cartoons. We are never shown who they really are. I like the fact that it’s different. Different is good in my world. “Intergalactic” by Beastie Boys reminds me of breakdancing and dancing in general. I love to dance and looked forward to every prom and homecoming dance at high school. “Without Me” by Eminem reminds me that no matter how much people criticize you, you can be very successful at what you enjoy doing. The last song on my list is “Take Me Out” by Franz Ferdinand. To be honest, I just like the beat of the song and it’s one of those songs I listened to over and over in high school.
So that wraps up my Youth Culture blog. I hope it gave you a better understanding of how I relate to the assigned films. But let me make one thing clear, I do not relate to anything in the film Kids. Not one thing.
Below is my self portrait of what goes through my mind. 
Artwork by: Marcello Laudato
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kal-rants · 3 years
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(Not Really) Quick Thoughts on FE: 3 Houses
Me? Talking about a game that’s been out for almost two years now? You best believe it.
Quick Backstory before I bullet point this shit so I can get it out of my system. I played the game the day it released years ago and more or less finished it in a week. My first route was with Black Eagles and after finishing it was ultimately unsatisfied by the ending and set it down with no intention of doing the other routes. A friend started playing it late 2019 and was fawning over Dimitri and his route. Taking her word for it, I gave the game another go and decided to finally finish it. Took me a while but I finally finished the three main routes and oh boy...
The Houses
I loved all the women in Black Eagles but the guys were meh. Caspar was fun and by far my favorite of them, but Hubert grated on my nerves and Ferdinand was sweet but because I also had Sylvain on my team, I kept confusing the two (based on appearance not personality). 
The general cast of Blue Lions was by far my favorite. Every person in the house was so enjoyable and I actually loved getting the support conversations for all of them (Ashe is my favorite character). My only issue with the house was ironically Dimitri who I could not stand post time skip (a little more on that below).
By my Golden Deer run, I was mostly playing just to complete the game which might contribute to how lackluster I found them. I wanted to kill Lorenz so bad but he was so good at killing people and Ignatz was sweet but was so bad at killing people that I permanently benched him to focus on everyone else (played this one on hard mode). Almost all of their support conversations were fairly one note and after the layered convos of Blue Lions, I wanted more. Claude is incredible though and it became an inverse of my thoughts on Blue Lions.
Bonus: Yuri and Hapi were my immediate faves (even if Hapi was a glass canon on the field for half of the game) while Balthus and Constance where interesting but still meh for me. 
Plot
So I picked Black Eagles house solely because I was interested about Edelgard and I definitely didn’t realize I was signing up to side with the one starting a fucking war. While I loved Edelgard throughout, I found the actual route complicated for me, especially after the time skip where I was taking down people I didn’t want to take down. I was left feeling like I was following the bad guys even as the game tried to say otherwise and it left me with a bad taste. In retrospect, I’m sure the devs didn’t really intend for you to do this route first judging by how little they go in the way of explaining certain things such as Byleth and Those Who Slither In the Dark. Overall, I understood why Edelgard was doing what she was doing, but the game thought that was enough and didn’t even try to convince me why I should side with her outside of that and it only hurt her route overall. Plus, I am still annoyed that Edelgard dealt with TWS in the epilogue and not in her actual route WHEN SHE IS THE ONE WHO WAS ARGUABLY AFFECTED BY THEM THE MOST OF THE THREE HOUSE LEADERS LIKE WTF WHY GIVE THAT MOMENT TO CLAUDE.
I’ll be honest, I remember so little of what actually happened in the Blue Lions route which I attribute to me not being able to really get on board with Dimitri since BL is more or less an intimate character focused route for Dimitri’s growth. I’m not here to bash Dimitri, I’m just saying his shifts in character happened a little suddenly and there were other things about his character that were kinda just vanilla for me. I did find it weird that we never actually saw Rhea again even though getting her back was a big thing for most of the characters and you’re kinda left to wonder what even happened to her (another moment given to Claude’s run).
And finally the Golden Deers. By the 3rd time through all pre-timeskip stuff was so insufferable to get through, but the one saving grace was Claude’s insight in all of it. It made it feel different even though the events were the same. Post-timeskip his route really shines as it is able to bridge the gap between the war and the proxy war behind it with TWS. It’s also the only route that you actually get answers for shit that the other two ignore (which thematically makes sense for those routes but still). It is ironic though that this route did more to get me to sympathize with Edelgard that her own route did. It is technically the best route of the three hands down. 
Other
So Rhea. I went in not trusting her because Jeralt mentions to be on guard about her and, since I started with BE, my distrust was proven right since she is trying to rip open your heart to get Sothis back. That hatred/distrust ran through my other two routes up until the last few chapters of Claude’s where we actually get context for what was going on. I was left in a similar position that I was in with Edelgard where I could understand Rhea’s reasoning for doing everything she did, but I still couldn’t side with her considering that she is technically responsible for the worship of Crests and nobility. Also, who builds a church and places yourself on top to be worshipped? Also also, why even place such importance on Crests? I know about the interview with the developers saying she “had” to because of how humans viewed the 10 elites at the time, but I feel like there is another option to build peace between them that doesn’t involve the elevation of Crests. Also racism; really should have done more to prevent that from blossoming in the way that it did.  
So Edelgard. She seems to be a hot topic on Tumblr which tracks so I’m going to traverse this with extra tact. I do love her and overall, I do agree that the system that the Church built had become corrupt. I mean when multiple children have emotional and physical scars of that corruption at school, it’s hard to argue against that. Do I agree that starting a war is the best way to change things? Before 2020, I would have said no, that there had to be another way to change things. But now? I dunno sometimes a system is too corrupt to rebuild off of diplomacy alone and it definitely wouldn’t happen quickly enough in a person’s lifetime. Given Edelgard’s shortened lifespan, I do get why diplomacy would have never worked for her. I don’t think I can ever fully support Edelgard for the war she started and for siding with TWS (I know her reasons but that’s basically making a deal with the devil) but I can’t deny that her goals are admirable at the least. Will her winning said war even change things? Well who knows. That depends on how she implements them afterward. I’ve seen lots of people claim that it’s unrealistic for her to have been successful in changing anything after the war but I don’t know about that. If anything, Rhea proved that she could mold the world however she wanted after her war and if Rhea could do it, then why can’t Edelgard.
Considering the nastiness of racism, I can’t even believe that Claude’s run of “end racism” was going to be as successful as they think. Solid baby steps, maybe? But don’t know how well that’ll actually go in the long run.
Dimitri might have been overhyped or something but I expected so much more than what I got from him. In the Academy Era, he rang fairly vanilla in that he was a kind and honorable guy but not much else. Felix mentions how savage he is, but there weren’t very many hints of that pre-timeskip (that I remember anyway). Obviously he was a ticking time bomb and later Dimitri shows that. And I was totally on board with slowly helping Dimitri become human again, but that’s not really what happened. You’re not allowed to do anything with Dimitri other than get his brief blurb in Explore or toss him into battle. I know why they did it, but because they shut him off from you so completely, I had problems being able to connect with him in the post time skip and ended up rolling my eyes whenever he started talking. It also made his change after Rodrigue died so sudden and it felt v forced for me. They really could have done a better job at it is all I’m saying. 
Ashe and Mercedes had the cutest S-support epilogue and I will die for them. 
Dorothea deserves the world and Yuri and Dorothea making an Opera troupe for commoners is the best thing.
I wanted so much more for Leonie but they stuck so hard to the Jeralt fangirl label that she never really grew beyond that. 
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crackimagines · 5 years
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Everyday Sunshine (FE: Three Houses Short Fic)
Child!Byleth Professor AU
After working hard for several months straight, the tiny professor and the Golden Deer class goes to enjoy some time off from the Monastery life, the beach.
Child!Byleth Post Masterlist here!
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Byleth stared out at the calm waters of the beach, feeling the cool wind blow gently across his face, blowing a little bit of his hair back.
(Byleth) “So, this is-”
(Hilda, Raphael, Dorothea, Sylvain) “THE BEACH!”
The four ran to the water and started frolicking, feeling how cold it was and laughing at their reactions.
Byleth saw the classmates he had recruited dash into the waters as well.
First was Sylvain and Dorothea, with Ingrid being dragged by the two against her will.
Caspar and Ashe tried going into the water and were not ready for how cold it was.
Bernadetta and Ignatz started painting the waters as the other classmates rushed in.
Felix simply decided to train for the moment with the wind feeling nice out in the distance.
(Hilda) “Come on, slowpoke!”
(Marianne) “A-Ah, it’s s-so cold!”
(Leonie) “You get used to it! I gotta train up while we’re here!”
(Raphael) “You said it, let’s go!”
(Ingrid) “How does the water get colder and colder?!”
(Dorothea) “Need me to warm you up, Ingrid?~”
(Ingrid) “BACK OFF-”
(Ignatz) “What lovely scenery!”
(Bernadetta) “I know, right? I can feel my art juices flowing!”
One by one, the other students started to jump in.
(Sothis) “What a beautiful location for a moment of respite, child! You really know how to pick them!”
(Byleth) Wasn’t me who picked this place.
(Catherine) “So kid, how’s the place?”
(Shamir) “I was the one who found it, thanks.”
(Catherine) “We found it together, details, details! Anyways, you not going in?”
Byleth was in a casual outfit, but it didn’t seem like he was going to swim with the others.
(Byleth) “No thanks. I never understood why everyone just splashed around. Swimming as a training exercise I could understand but...-”
(Lysithea) “I agree.”
Everyone turned to Lysithea who was in a full swimming suit that covered her entire body, one wouldn’t be faulted for thinking it was some weird form of a onsie. (a diving suit).
(Lysithea) “It’s so childish...”
(Catherine) “You say that, but I saw you eyeing the others enviously.”
(Lysithea) “I-I was not!”
(Byleth) “You don’t have to hold back on our account. We brought you here to have fun.”
(Annette) “Yeah, come on! You always work so hard, we won’t tease!”
Annette and Mercedes were in swimsuits, looking excited to go into the waters.
(Mercedes) “Please, join us!”
(Lysithea) “I...I won’t be made fun of?”
(Claude) “Hey, we all came here to act like kids, didn’t we? If it means you’ll enjoy yourself for once, I promise that I’ll act as childish as you will.”
Lysithea then smiled and looked to Annette.
(Lysithea) “Very well! Let’s go ahead!”
She joined Annette and Mercedes, and met up with the rest of the girls.
Meanwhile, Caspar, Raphael, and Sylvain were carrying Lorenz and Ferdinand to the water.
(Lorenz) “U-UNHAND ME AT ONCE! I MAY BE IN MY SWIMSUIT BUT I CANNOT GET WET-”
(Sylvain) “Oh ho, you aren’t getting away with that!”
(Byleth) “Hah...everyone’s having fun.”
(Flayn) “Ah, Byleth, there you are!”
Flayn ran up to his side and had a bright smile on her face, looking at Byleth with anticipation.
(Flayn) “Come on, the water looks amazing!”
(Claude) “You said it yourself teach, we all came here to have fun! Don’t disappoint the lovely lady now-”
(Byleth) “Ugh, shut it. Besides, I’m not even dressed for the water-”
(Catherine) “Eh, who cares! If you don’t go in, I’ll throw you in!”
(Claude) “...On second thought, stay put! I wanna see the great Catherine toss you like a ball!”
(Shamir) “Heh, that’d be interesting to see-”
(Byleth) “L-LET’S GO, FLAYN!”
He grabbed her by the hand and walked quickly over to the waters.
Claude laughed as he watched his classmates enjoy their day at the beach.
(Catherine) “How about you, kiddo? You joining them?”
(Claude) “I will in a second, I’m just...admiring the view.”
(Shamir) “Sure that’s a topic you wanna be discussing with only girls around?”
(Claude) “Well, I can’t deny that aspect of the view is nice but...that’s not what I meant. I don’t think I saw the Professor engage with the class this much.”
(Catherine) “Now that you mention it, the kid wasn’t exactly what you’d call sociable at the beginning phases of your class.”
(Claude) “It’s crazy to see how much he’s changed. He’s acting more like...well, a kid his age.”
(Shamir) “Here I thought I wouldn’t find anyone who had less emotions than me. I don’t think I ever saw him smile until just now.”
(Catherine) “Think the kid’ll actually thank you for these emotions?”
(Claude) “Doubt it. Well, at least in public. In private, he’s a like a little brother, funny one at that too. At first, I was really skeptical that a kid would be teaching our class but now? I think he fits right in with us misfits.”
(Shamir) “Hmph...Speaking of emotions, his seems to flare up around Flayn, huh?”
(Claude) “Her and Lysithea I seem to notice, though its different from what he usually has with us. Me and Leonie for example, piss him off. Raphael confuses him to no end, I’m pretty sure he’s exploded with anger around Lorenz, and for Marianne, his gentle side comes out.”
(Catherine) “What, he has a crush?”
(Claude) “Probably, but doubt either the teach or Lysithea would ever confirm that. As for Flayn, I’m pretty sure she’s been dropping hints.”
(Shamir) “...Good luck to her with that...”
(Catherine) “Well, we’ve been lazily staring for too long! Come on Shamir, let’s get wet!”
(Shamir) “Ugh, check your phrasing please-”
(Claude) “Hah, she’s right ya know. HEEEEY, HILDA!”
Claude, Hilda and Marianne enjoyed splashing each other, and began terrorizing the other students by splashing the freezing waters on everyone else.
Felix eventually joined Sylvain, Dorothea and Ingrid in the waters.
Caspar, Leonie, Raphael, and Ashe all had a contest of who could swim the fastest from rock to rock.
Bernadetta and Ignatz continued painting a beautiful portrait of the scene before them.
Lorenz and Ferdinand enjoyed chatting with each other while calmly enjoying the water instead of being thrown in.
Mercedes was trying to help Lysithea and Annette to swim considering how short they were, which led to very amusing lines from both of them.
Flayn and Byleth walked alongside the beach line together, casually chatting about how nice the weather felt and eventually went shell hunting.
BONUS: Nighttime Event (Flayn, Lysithea, Claude)
Flayn
Byleth heard rustling from the sleeping beds and saw Flayn get up.
(Flayn) “Oh, did I wake you up?”
They decided to walk alongside the beach’s waters since neither of them could fall asleep. After a silent walk, Flayn and Byleth sat together, watching the moonlight shine upon the waves.
(Byleth) “You know, it’s my first time actually enjoying my time at a beach.”
(Flayn) “But, you’ve been to beaches before, right?”
He shrugged.
(Byleth) “Sure, but I never got to take in the scenery. I was always there for missions. Frankly I hated beaches before because of so much problems preventing our cavalry moving faster, like sand.”
(Flayn) “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it now! The beach is truly a wonderful thing.”
(Byleth) “You went to beaches with Seteth and your mother, right?”
(Flayn) “Yes. Father, mother and I loved to fish at the oceans, there were so many peculiar types of fish to see!”
She had a sad smile as she reminisced about those days she spent.
(Flayn) “I miss it quite so but...thanks to you, I’m able to make new memories like this one!”
Byleth smiled back, nodding.
(Byleth) “I’m glad to help out, Flayn. I’m glad you’re in the class as well.”
They both stared out again before Byleth cleared his throat.
It wasn’t unusual to Flayn to see the professor’s true emotions, but this time it surprised her. It seemed like he was...blushing?
(Byleth) “If...If it helps I’d...like to go fishing with you since you miss it, and Seteth doesn’t have much time due to his work but...-”
(Flayn) “I’d love to fish with you, professor!”
(Byleth) “...Good. It’s a promise, okay?”
(Flayn) “Promise!”
Lysithea
Lysithea made sure to not wake anyone as she went to the nearby cliff and watched the stars above.
This was the most fun she’s had in a while, and she was going to cherish this memory. After all, she was going to die soon.
(Byleth) “Can’t sleep either?”
Lysithea turned around and saw Byleth walk to her.
(Byleth) “Mind if I join in?”
(Lysithea) “Be my guest.”
He sat down, and they looked at the skies together.
(Byleth) “It felt good to be ourselves and not have anyone call us out on it, doesn’t it?”
(Lysithea) “For me, sure. I didn’t know you were capable of showing emotions, professor!”
She said it in a slightly mocking tone, but at the same time she was also a bit serious.
In response, Byleth chuckled.
(Byleth) “Neither was I. So, is there anything on your mind? It’s not like you to be up this late unless you were studying.”
She faintly blushed due to the amount of he detail he paid attention to her, but it quickly faded away when her thoughts were brought back up.
(Lysithea) “...You already know about how the crests have shortened my lifespan right? I was just...making sure I enjoy today. I don’t exactly have much time left-”
(Byleth) “Don’t speak like that.”
(Lysithea) “Huh?”
(Byleth) “As long as I’m here, you’re going to live. I don’t know what I have to do, but I promise you that. I am not going to outlive any of my students...”
(Lysithea) “...Thank you, Byleth.”
Byleth nodded, and they both continued to quietly watch the stars above.
Lysithea felt her blush come back.
Claude
Byleth was on a hill nearby, overlooking all of his students.
Even though he didn’t hear anything in particular to set him off, he still said something.
(Byleth) “Hey, Claude.”
(Claude) “Ah, I see you were able to see right through me! Dang, was going to give you a good scare too!”
(Byleth) “Heh, course you were...come on, best seat in the house.”
Claude sat down next to him. Byleth was right. This little hill looked over the ocean’s waves, the stars in the sky, and the students.
(Claude) “So, whatcha thinking about, teach?”
(Byleth) “Nothing in particular. I’m just looking over at all the kids...”
Everyone was sleeping so soundly. Byleth was starting to wish that everyday could be like this.
(Claude) “So, how’s it feel being a parent?”
Byleth laughed, turning to Claude.
(Byleth) “If these are my kids, then these are the most idiotic and insane kids I’ve ever seen.”
(Claude) “Don’t deny it, you still love us!”
(Byleth) “That I do, Claude...that I do...Ya know, I’m going to miss you guys when the classes have to leave. All of you will be off in your own territories, doing adult things. And I’ll still be here, teaching for the next 5 years until you all come back.”
(Claude) “...Ya know teach I’m...quite proud of you.”
(Byleth) “How’s this punchline going to end?”
(Claude) “Nope, no joking here. It’s coming straight from the heart this time. Are you aware of how much you changed from when you first came into the monastery to the way you are now? The fact you’re saying you’d miss us is proof!”
(Byleth) “Hm...I suppose I didn’t show much emotion back then.”
(Claude) “That’s putting it lightly. I didn’t see as much as a brow furrow whenever I tried to get ya to react!”
(Byleth) “That I wish did stay. But...you know, it was thanks to you and the rest of the class that got me to where I am.”
(Claude) “Hah, that’s true. But at the same time, we wouldn’t be the people we are today without you too. Marianne probably would’ve never spoken to any of us, Ignatz would be too scared to talk to people, Lysithea never getting her head out of the books, the list goes on! This class needs you, just as much as you need us.”
(Byleth) “Hm...I gotta say, it feels good to hear that, considering it’s you, Claude.”
(Claude) “Yeesh, I’m not allowed to have my moments, teach?”
They both laughed and noticed that the stars were shining brightly all of a sudden.
Streaks of light flew across the skies and they both went back to being quiet. 
The two didn’t have to say anything at that point, they could guess what they were going to say.
(Sothis) “They’re so beautiful!”
While Claude was distracted, Byleth looked at Claude, then to the students as they continued to sleep soundly, shooting stars flying across the skies.
(Byleth) Yes...Yes they are.
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ferdinand/hubert
c-a support + paired ending
c
Ferdinand: Hm. With this idea, I may be able to get the one-up on Edelgard. Hubert: This again. F: Hubert! I wish you would not sneak up on me like that. H: Maybe you would be more perceptive if your mind were less burdened by sedition. F: Sedition? Absurd. This is an important project. H: Yes, I heard. A new way to prove how superior you are to Lady Edelgard. H: She is not your rival, Ferdinand. She is above you. H: A noble, like you, ought to know his place. F: Anything is better than being a noble like you. F: Every time you open your mouth it's "Lady Edelgard this" or "Lady Edelgard that." Do you ever think for yourself? F: You follow her around like a pet. You spend all of your time fretting over her, and yet you never truly express an opinion of your own. F: Before you reprimand me, take a moment to consider your own failings. H: Your nonsense is tiresome, so I hope this will be the last time I have to remind you. H: Lady Edelgard is the Imperial princess. You are merely the prime minister's son. (pre-skip) H: Lady Edelgard is your emperor. You are nothing more than her retainer. (post -skip) F: Yes, I understand that. But my duty is to guide her, to give frank advice when she is on the wrong course of action. F: That is what I strive to do, always. F: Thus my devotion to surpass Edelgard, so that if she needs guidance, I will be prepared to give it. F: If you think it is tiresome to have a mind of your own, you will never be much of an advisor. H: Does the river of filth pouring out of your mouth ever stop flowing? H: Your obsession with all things superficial is disgusting. F: It's no use. You're hopeless. I'll take my leave. H: I have nothing more to say to you. Get out of here.
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b
H: Show them this letter. Threaten them. Do what you must. Now, go. NPC: Yes, sir! F: Hubert, that letter. Is that what I think it was? H: I suppose there's no denying it. F: But Edelgard— H: Explicitly forbade me to send it. Yes, I know. F: I cannot believe it! You disobeyed a direct order? F: I thought you were her loyal aide. H: Unwaveringly. All that I do, I do for her. H: I seem to recall you expressing a similar sentiment. H: It is our role to guide her when she is on the wrong course of action. Is that not what you said? F: You are not supposed to do it in secret! F: When you disagree with your leader, you must voice your concerns directly. Otherwise, what is the point? H: The point is the same. Lady Edelgard's best interests are served, whether she knows it or not. H: She needs not trouble herself with the mundane details of my actions. Only results matter. F: You are sorely misguided! F: When I believe that Edelgard is making a mistake, I tell her as much. F: Through discussing the matter, I sometimes find that I was mistaken. F: To skip that process, to make a decision that is not yours to make... H: Perhaps your advice is simply useless, then. F: Excuse me?! H: Listen to yourself. If I do as Lady Edelgard requires, then you tell me to be more independent. H: But if I tread my own path, I am misguided! H: I suppose the fault is mine for expecting any useful advice to come out of your mouth. Heh. F(?): Ugh, I have had enough of your grousing. F(?): To think, I started to believe you were a useful aide!
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a (i)
F: It's strange. I never thought you and I would be able to sit together and drink tea like this. H: Drink tea, you say, but that does not smell like tea. The aroma... Would that be coffee by any chance? F: Imported from Dagda, I believe. I do not care for it myself. H: Your knowledge is impressive. Although I should expect nothing less from a noble, I suppose. H: Lady Edelgard surpasses you in nearly every respect. H: But I think, when it comes to positivity, you may actually exceed her. F: Excuse me? H: In a way, it is merely a mask for your tactlessness. But even so, your relentless optimism... H: Well. Suffice it to say that it is your best quality. F: I... What? H: You are constantly striving to grow as a person. To seek new knowledge. To push new limits. H: When others might get distracted or abandon their path, you never yield. H: In that aspect, at least, I think you are unmatched. F: Hubert... Are you all right? F: Do you have a cold? Or the plague? Am I hearing a deathbed confession? H: It was only a compliment. There's no need for such dramatic exaggeration. F: Dramatic, you say? H: I do my best to analyze others without emotion. H: Even if I find you to be a contemptible degenerate, I can still evaluate your abilities in an impartial way. F: So because you assess people without emotion, you're totally confident in your appraisals. F: It seems I was wrong about you. H: Heh. You actually understand. F: Please do not compliment me again though. I find it quite unsettling. It is like hearing a snake sing an aria. F: At least put it in a letter next time. H: In the very unlikely event that there is a next time, I promise to put it in writing.
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a (ii)
H: Hello, Ferdinand. Wait—that aroma... F: Your nose is as sharp as ever, Hubert. Yes, it is a bag of fresh coffee beans. H: Why did you buy coffee? You said you don't care for it. F: My stance has not changed. Drab, bitter, with that muddy texture. If I have even a sip, my hands start to tremble. H: Rather harsh. What are you doing with it, then? F: Well, you see— Wait a moment. What is that? Is that an imported tea from the east? H: It is indeed. Keen eyes. F: Flaunting my favorite drink, right in front of me! And you do not even drink tea. Fiendish. F: It is for Edelgard, I assume? H: Before I answer that, I would like to know what you are doing with the coffee. F: Well, I... H: Is it a gift? Perhaps for someone you fancy? F: A gift, yes. For you. H: Hm. Who is the unlucky— Did you say for me?! H: This coffee is a gift for me? Have I heard you correctly? F: Yes. That is what I said. A noble does not go back on his word. Just take it. H: I should decline. F: Why? H: The thought of receiving a gift from you, unbidden and unreciprocated, fills me with revulsion. H: Therefore...accept this tea. As a gift. From me. F: For me? Are you certain? I would hate to deprive the intended recipient of such a fine tea. H: That would be difficult to do, since I bought it with you in mind. F: Oh, in that case, thank— What? F: You were planning to give this to me all along? H: That is what I said. F: Really? I... Hahaha! F(?): Hahaha. F: Only one thing to do. We must take a tea break. H: Very well. But tea is not what I will be drinking. F: Of course. I will make you some coffee. H: Then I will prepare the tea.
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paired ending
Hubert and Ferdinand became the left and right hands of Emperor Edelgard, competing constantly with each other to see who could be the more helpful. They were opposites—the Minister of the Imperial Household, melancholy and merciless, and the prime minister, bright and compassionate. Still, they brought out the best in each other. As the Empire became orderly and prosperous, the two came to be known as the nation's "Two Jewels," and were remembered fondly for generations to come. Some say their fame made even Emperor Edelgard jealous.
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princess-of-france · 4 years
Note
i would love to hear abt your rococo lll
Oh my gosh, you lovely human, settle in. This production is my Ultimate Theater Pipe Dream and I apologize in advance for how little chill I’m going to have as I explain it. 
Are you ready? 
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I want to start with my standard disclaimer: I am a theater artist, not a literary critic or a historian. When I’m directing a play, I extract fragments of lit crit and historical fact as I need them and leave the rest on the buffet line. This LLL in particular requires me to play fast and loose with history, so be prepared for a truckload of anachronisms. They make the vision work!
So, with that…
The sad Catch-22 of my Rococo LLL is that no theater will ever put it up:  a smaller, indie, risk-taking theater wouldn’t be able to afford the astronomical production costs of casting the 20 actors I need, to say nothing of building opulent sets and period-accurate costumes that imitate the royal courts of the late 18th century; conversely, a large, well-funded, regional theater wouldn’t be able to justify funding a 2.5-hour Shakespeare retelling that turns one of his most sparkling comedies into a dark, violent allegory about the French Revolution and casts young, privileged, light-skinned European elites as the tragic heroes brought low by proletariat Jacobean reform. Even as I type these words, I realize how irresponsible an investment that would be. My Rococo LLL is not the kind of classical theater we need in America right now. It is retrograde in terms of diversity, equity, accessibility, and social justice. It probably says something terrible about me that I even dreamt it up in the first place.
And yet.
I want to direct this production so badly it feels like I’ve swallowed a piece of the sun. If I had all the proper resources (time, money, venue, artists, designers, marketing, etc.), I would do it tomorrow. It’s my baby.
Here’s a blurb that kind of nutshells it all together:
July 1789. King Charles VI of Navarre has died, leaving his son, young Ferdinand III, to take the throne. On a tide of Enlightenment idealism, King Ferdinand commissions his three best friends to join him for a period of ascetic study at the court of Navarre. The rules are simple: no luxuries, no alcohol, and no women. For three long years.
The boys’ oath is immediately put to the test when four young ladies arrive in Navarre on a diplomatic mission from Versailles. Led by the spirited Duchess d’Albret, the Frenchwomen and their mile-high coiffures prove irresistible to the King and his companions. With the help of a motley band of scholars and servants, they set out to woo the Duchess and her friends. But when sober news arrives from Paris, will young love be enough to rewrite history?
Set against the glittering backdrop of the last golden days of the ancien regime, this bold reimagining of Shakespeare’s beloved comedy invites us to look at the most famous revolution in Western history through the eyes of the young elites who learned the truth about privilege just a moment too late.
Of all the radical things I want to do with this production, the thing that would probably cause the most controversy (and earn me a reputation for being a narcissistic, pessimistic, Shakespeare-desecrating hack) is my addition of a prologue set in Paris in June 1793. I could try to sum it up here, but honestly I think it would be a lot more effective and comprehensive just to post the excerpt from my script:
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…etc.
So basically, half my audience will vomit due to the unexpected onslaught of blood, gore, and violence…and the other half will vomit from the sheer anti-progressivism of the show’s politics. And I don’t blame anyone who finds fault with this production concept. On a political level, I find fault with it. Arguably the last thing our society needs right now is a Shakespeare production that paints young, pale, overprivileged trust fund babies as the poor, helpless victims of a liberal-led revolution for social equality. 
But at the same time, I can’t help but think that the entire point of Love’s Labour’s Lost is to make us look hard at our own privilege and ego, and weigh those things that seem sooo valuable against the true gifts of love, empathy, friendship, generosity, and kindness. 
“This is not generous, not gentle, not humble!” Holofernes cries as the Crazy Eight—high on adrenaline and their own cruel wit—jeer him off the stage during his performance as Judas Maccabeus in 5.2. More than any other, this moment epitomizes the value of setting LLL in a sex-charged, champagne-fueled, pastry-laden, cream-filled, lace-drenched, satin-covered, feather-topped, Rococo landscape. There’s no way in hell the audience is meant to sympathize with the insult-flinging prep school Kens and Barbies when they humiliate Holofernes to the point of tears. Shakespeare is way too smart for that. In the final whimsical moments before the messenger Marcadé comes onstage, laden with the news that is going to change the entire genre of the play, the Bard turns a critical spotlight on the young people we’ve been rooting for since Act One, Scene One and invites us to view them—for the first time, really—through the lens of the hardworking, lesser-privileged plebs of Navarre. The portrait is revolting. However witty, cultured, and elegant the courtiers might seem, they clearly have a lot more homework to do. Marcadé’s arrival a few short lines later is the final test of their youthful ego. Is being clever worth the price of experiencing love? Is love worth the price of responsibility? Is she brave enough to admit that she’s scared to take up the mantle? Is he brave enough to give up the one person who matters for the sake of the people he once mocked, the people he now must lead?
I don’t believe the Navarre Nerds and Les Filles have survived the centuries because they end the play as sharp-tongued, entitled, and self-absorbed as they behave at the start. We wouldn’t still be making and remaking this play if the protagonists were so static. I think the young people of LLL resonate with us—or, at least, they resonate with me—because in the course of Shakespeare’s plotless little play they grow up right before our eyes. King Ferdinand learns that he can’t bury his head in his books and ignore the responsibility of ruling when he watches the love of his life choose duty to her country over the desires of her own heart. The Princess learns that the cost of being the cleverest person is human connection when she finds herself laughing alongside Ferdinand at the antics of the Nine Worthies and somehow feels happier than she ever did when she was mocking him into the earth. Berowne learns that love wins every argument: against wit, against intellect, against bachelorhood, against willpower itself. Rosaline learns that love is strength, not weakness, and that she is stronger when she allows herself to feel. Dumaine learns that love demands vulnerability. Katherine learns that love is not a game. Longaville learns that love thrives on honesty. Maria learns that love takes courage. When the Crazy Eight say their heartbreaking goodbyes at the end of 5.2, they no longer care about sounding smart or superior; in fact, they speak against their own intelligence. The erudite Ferdinand trips over his words, the cynical Berowne invokes romantic idealism, the boastful Dumaine speaks with humility, the shy Longaville puts all his cards on the table. The women are no less altered. I don’t want to fall into the trap of ascribing an easy, one-size-fits-all moral maxim to LLL, but what else are we supposed to take away from this play if not the fact that we fucking owe it to ourselves as a species to set aside our stupid pride and say, “I love you,” when we feel it because we never know when time is going to run out? What else are we supposed to feel if not pride in these young people for choosing to step up and take responsibility when they hear news that the world outside is ending? That there may be no world left? Les Filles go with their Queen. The Nerds rally around their King. They choose fidelity to their respective kingdoms over the indulgence of love. But they also learn to value love for what it is, and to call it by name…even if that love can only last for a few fleeting seconds:
“If this or more than this I would deny,To flatter up these powers of mine with rest,The sudden hand of death close up mine eye.Hence ever, then, my heart is in thy breast.”
(King Ferdinand, V.ii)
As the Crazy Eight grapple in real time with the consequences of Marcadé’s message and what it means for their role as leaders in society, Rosaline gives Berowne a task to complete in their year apart that practically hums with poetic intelligence. Her lines are so iconic, we still quote them colloquially today:
BEROWNETo move wild laughter in the throat of death?It cannot be, it is impossible.Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
ROSALINEWhy, that’s the way to choke a gibing spirit,Whose influence is begot of that loose graceWhich shallow laughing hearers give to fools.A jest’s prosperity lies in the earOf him that hears it, never in the tongueOf him that makes it. Then, if sickly ears,Deafed with the clamors of their own dear groans,Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,And I will have you and that fault withal.But if they will not, throw away that spiritAnd I shall find you empty of that fault,Right joyful of your reformation.
(V.ii)
I think this is the moment when I would start crying if I ever watched my Rococo LLL performed live. Because of all les Filles, I think Rosaline is the only one who knows that by choosing to accompany the Duchess back to Versailles at the end of LLL, she is effectively signing her death warrant. The Jacobeans and sans-cullottes are not going to want young, eligible, Catholic Rococo princesses wafting around their new, secular state. The guillotine may not yet exist in the summer of 1789, but the there is a thirst for blood and Rosaline can smell it. And now Bastille has fallen. Paris is on fire. King Louis XVI has months to live. The world will never be the same. Rosaline’s once-ordered, once-gilded country is careening into a bloody nightmare of soured ideals and ruthless social weeding, and even though she can’t see the future, she can read men like books. Even Berowne. Even the charismatic nihilist who earned a bachelor’s degree in bachelorhood and tried to hide his heart under a bushel. She can read him and she can save him. They can’t kill her husband if she doesn’t have one. 
Rococo LLL? I don’t know. It’s a pipe dream. 
But can’t you picture it? 
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Tagging my girls @harry-leroy @suits-of-woe @lizbennett2013 @dedraconesilet @exeunt-pursued-by-a-bear @henriadical in case anyone is interested :)
Thanks a million for one of my favorite asks ever! Happy holidays, friend!!
xx Claire
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deltaengineering · 4 years
Text
winter anime 2020 part 6: it is fin(e)
Part 5 seems to have fallen into some sort of Tumblr memory hole (it’s not flagged and I know this because I have plenty of actually flagged posts, and people can see it just fine with direct links, but it doesn’t even show up in my own timeline), possibly because of screencaps of shota bulge. But that’s just Interspecies Reviewers, and I’m a honest dude with honest screencaps. You can find it here.
A3! Season Spring & Summer
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Oh, P.A. Works. You never know whether you’re getting Dr. PA (Shirobako) or Mr. Works (Glasslip) with them. The last thing they did was most definitely a Mister production (since it was Fairy Gone), so maybe they’re up for some greatness again? In short, no. A3 isn’t dreadful, but it’s more reminiscent of the likes of HaruChika, so maybe an undergraduate at most. It’s more than a bit confusing but at the end of the day it seems to be about a girl that inherits a shitty theater house and now has to make the various boys that hang around in the vicinity do actor things. This is based on a mobile game of the otome persuasion and while I was sussing that out, I saw some people be very insistent that it's MOST DEFINITELY NOT A REVERSE HAREM. It must be some other genre of fiction that is all about one girl being surrounded by pretty boys all day then. Anyway, the main girl is alright, so it seems fairly watchable, but overall it’s just somewhat clunky and not of the highest quality, so I don’t think it’s for me.
ARP Backstage Pass
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ARP is a boyband anime, remember those? It’s a really predictable one too - mostly just introductions of the characters, who are all the kinds of characters you might find in a boyband anime doing vaguely boybandish things. You know how these go. What’s funny though is how it looks, which is to say it looks painfully cheap. Not that that’s rare for boyband cash-in anime (I’ve covered the topic extensively), but ARP is unusual in that it has above average looking CG performance sequences too. In the end this makes it look like they had these fairly okay CG music videos already and thought “I know a guy, we’ll pay him 10bux and have him bang out some flimsy connective animation and then we can pretend we have a TV show.” A+ hustle if true.
Dorohedoro
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The manga Dorohedoro is a fairly known quantity, and that’s a good thing too because fuck me if I have to explain what it is. Okay, what it IS is not hard to explain: It’s a surreal tone piece defined by a grimy punk-on-acid aesthetic and an irreverent and dark comedic tone mostly based on ultraviolence - what’s hard (and tedious, and beside the point) is to explain the narrative content, so I won’t. The line between lolrandom nonsense and on-point surrealism is very thin, and you need a ton of style to pull the latter off convincingly. Dorohedoro definitely manages to make it work so far, and the only thing I don’t like as far as style is concerned is that they do the main characters in CG. It’s not bad CG, but this is a show that’s particularly good-looking otherwise so it’s still a step down - though CG tends to hold up better when the looks deteriorate over the season, and MAPPA aren’t the most solid in that regard. Hey, at least with them you can count on a ballin’ OP and Dorohedoro definitely comes with one of those. It still makes very little sense, and going by the opinions of people who read it, this won’t change in the foreseeable future or possibly ever. As long as it keeps the style and the quirkiness coming, I don’t really mind.
Kyokou Suiri / In/Spectre
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So I was pretty positive on the first episode of In/Spectre, in particular the way it escalates from people sitting on a bench talking about nothing to youkai hunt shenanigans. I also liked the main characters quite a lot and the chemistry between them even more. Still, a few doubts remained - it wasn’t very visually appealing, it’s obviously based on a very talky novel, and what it eventually ended up revealing is that it’s essentially just some modern edgy version of Gegege no Kitarou or the many, MANY imitators thereof. But so far, so good, seems like a winner.
Then I got to episode 2 and it was so excruciatingly bad that I dropped the whole show 20 minutes in because I couldn’t take it anymore. Episode 2 is 5 minutes of very stilted characters banter, followed by, no joke, 15 solid minutes of Kotoko reading a newspaper to a snake. It’s not particularly relevant or interesting news items either - apparently Exposition Shinbun does gangbusters in this universe. The lame direction doesn’t help with any of this, in the end it was the director of Endride after all. With my professional duty already fulfilled by this point and an episode that is a contender for worst episode of the season so far, I ain’t got time for this shit.
Natsunagu
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Natsunagu is a short whose unique selling point is, and I quote, “the first over-the-air television anime produced by a local government that lasts one quarter of a year.” Thanks, Kumamoto Prefecture, that’s exactly my strike zone right there. Apart from that bit of hilarity, it’s quite alright I guess. There isn’t much to the first episode because it’s all of 3 minutes long and barely establishes the concept (girl goes to Kumamoto to find an internet acquaintance), but it looks nice and it has a smooth tone that goes down easy. Might just watch it to be able to say I did.
Runway de Waratte
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Runway de Waratte is about a girl who wants to become a super, nay, hypermodel but is overly short, and a guy who wants to become a fashion designer but isn’t an asshole. You know, I’ve had some luck with fashion-based anime before, but Runway de Waratte is no Paradise Kiss. There, I said it. It doesn’t even have a Franz Ferdinand ED! Runway de Waratte is the most basic shounen take on the same material; while Paradise Kiss was about a bunch of weirdos and outcasts, this right here is about a rich girl who’s mad that she’s too short to get everything she wants for free, but makes up for it with trademark assertive shounen enthusiasm. Designerman is, of course, the sensitive type and the show thinks that makes it say something about gender roles, which is just adorable. Runway is also very peculiarly paced, to the degree that I’d say it does border on just plain badly written - there is so much time spent on establishing the characters in a vacuum (and they’re hardly complex), only to rush through the part where things actually start to happen during the end credits. And it’s a bizarre coincidence plot too. This is another show that isn’t fundamentally busted and borderline watchable, but would simply have to be significantly better for me to give it more chances.
Rikei ga Koi ni Ochita no de Shoumei shitemita
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As someone who has been known to post charts about zettai ryouiki golden ratios and whatnot to social media with the comment “SCIENCE, BITCH”, I can’t really complain about this comedy in which science people attempt to get into romance but can only do so scientifically, graphs about chingrab angles etc included. Furthermore, I also think it’s more funny than not. Don’t expect too much from it, and in particularly don’t expect a show about ostensibly clever people to actually be clever itself. But I have an opinion about spicy romances between people trying to one-up each other, see #1 on this list for details. Of course, RgKnOndSs is nowhere near as good as Kaguya-sama, since it’s far more pedestrian and predictable, and it has some aspects that outright stink too; in particular, the obligatory interlude where science bear appears to badly explain some superficial science concepts is an annoying waste of time every time. Less bad but still not good are scientists #4 and #5, because they’re just very tired otaku clichees that I’ve seen a million times before. The main pair isn’t any less stereotypical, but at least a romantic comedy about them is news to me (no, fucking Steins;Gate does not count and even if it did, Okabe and Chris are tremendously unlikeable jerks with negative chemistry), and rounding out the cast is common sense girl that has common sense, which is probably necessary but not exactly innovative. In the end, this is a very minor production in all aspects, but Himuro’s incredibly dumb/adorable ponytail wag makes it worth watching. Q.E.D.
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Any idea why my reblog wouldn't go through? Since I obliterated every single point you made, you ought to read it. The reply I posted tagged you instead.
No idea. As far as I know I haven’t blocked you and I don’t know what post you are talking about since I haven’t been tagged in anything.
Never mind. I realized that you were in fact were a racist and I blocked you’re other account so you got bitter and tried to argue using information that is innacurate. And if anybody would like to know the other account of this person, it is thoughtsandreplies.
So I’m going to go over each statement the person made with the exception of what originally began this, Immersion (Piss Jesus). Art is a very personal experience, but how you interpret art does not give you the right to use it as an excuse for racism.
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So 1) No one is actually saying that Lincoln was a racist. They’re arguing whether or not the depiction of the Black man in the Emancipation Memorial, a real former slave named Archer Alexander is racist and if it should be taken down because of that. This specific instance is not about the white man involved, but the black man being represented and if his representation as someone physically and what could be taken as symbolically lower than a white man is degrading. This is a complex issues that even two of his descendants are have opposing opinions on. Muhammad Ali was a direct descendant of this man and his third cousin, Keith Winstaed, and his oldest daughter, actress Maryum Ali, have opposing opinions. Winstaed is in favor of keeping it because he is more focused on the historical context, that the sculpture of Alexander was meant to be seen as empowering because has broken his chains and beginning to rise. However, Ali is viewing with the eyes of someone living in the 21st century who expects better representation for minority communities that have historically been vilified in art, literature, television, and politics. She believes the statue is degrading and offensive because even if Alexander’s chains are broken, he is still below Lincoln, a white man, and is in a position that can be interpreted as him bowing to him. As I said before, art is personal and both people have valid interpretations of this piece. This is not the same as tearing down statues of actual racists. We put up statues of people to honor them, but we must be able to recognize that we can no longer honor people who were legitimately horrible. I don’t see any statues of Hitler in Germany so what’s your excuse for why you want to keep up sculptures of racists?
2) off the bat I could tell you were a racist who hasn’t bothered to examine their words and actions by referring to the Black Lives Matter Movement as a “historically illiterate mob”. Most of the people in the movement are black so I can assume you are perpetuating the stereotype that black people can’t read which is enforced by the fact that it was illegal for slaves to be literate and black and brown communities have historically and continue to receive less funding for their schools, which leads to lower quality books and teachers, which leads to students who have difficulty in their studies, which leads to students who have lower grades, which leads to black and brown communities being forced to accept work at lower paying jobs, which leads to black and brown parents that are not able to spend time with their children in order to make enough money for food, water, electricity, and housing, which leads to kids who don’t receive the attention they need, which leads to students who are being taught by these same lower standard teacher with old outdated books, which leads to students being frustrated over not being at the level of their studies that they should be but are unable to seek outside help because of a lack of tutors and familial help, which leads to students who “act out” because they were not able to develop the emotional tools necessary to monitor behavior and are then forced into prisons by teachers who have called the police on them, which leads to another lack of education because the U.S. prison system does not want to rehabilitate prisoners and help them become better people, it just wants to find a way to legally continue slavery.
3) It does not matter if someone had doubts about whether or not someone had doubts over their racial superiority. What matters is that they still willingly continued to be a part of that system that benefitted them because it was more convenient to not do anything. Also, nice job on conveniently leaving out the fact that Jefferson was known to have raped his slaves and produced multiple children with slaves, but still did not bothering freeing any of his slaves.
4) Don’t bother bringing up almost any of the other founding fathers also since they were also slave owners perpetuating the system because it helped them make money. And don’t try to excuse it by claiming that it was just accepted at the time. Abolitionism was a thing during that time. Even when Columbus began raping and pilaging, there were people who knew what he was doing was bad. There is writing about how people already knew Columbus was fucking insane and even Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand of Spain, you know, the ones who started the Spanish Inquisition, was so disgusted by rumors about Columbus that they had him investigated and took away his titles when they found out about what was happening. They’re not off the hook though because they were still, you know, the reason for why many Saphardic Jews were imprisoned, killed, and forced to run away.
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5) No, I don’t use the word “racist” too lightly, you’re standards for what count as racist just don’t include enough things that are racist.
6) Black people live in fear because they have historically and systemically have had legitimate reasons to, not because I’m calling out things that have been blatantly racist.
7) Yes there has been property damage. Yes there are people who are going to use these events as an excuse to do whatever they want. That will always be a part of protesting. But don’t act like cops aren’t doing this same thing, intentionally planting themselves in protests and then creating violence or causing property damage in order to give other cops a reason to attack protestors. If you know enough, you can spot them based on whose wearing shoes that can be run in or heavy combat boots, whose wearing nondescript clothes that you can see protective gear under, and who is wearing the “color of the day”, a tactic cops have used in order to disguise themselves among protestors but signal that they are cops to other cops by wearing matching accessories like armbands, headbands, or wristbands.
8) Funny how you don’t want to bring up the fact that these are populations with large black and brown communities that are usually overpoliced. Also, just because someone is a Democrat does not make them a liberal. The only reason I’m in preference of Democrats is because of the multiple marginalized communities that will hold them accountable for anything they do.
9) Not every single time a black person is killed is it because of racism. That “black-on-Black crime” people like to bring up? That’s not racism, that’s just the fact that people in close proximity to each other are more likely to kill each other and there are still heavily legally segregated parts of America due to wealth disparity. That example you brought up about a black cop killing a black man? That’s not racism. That a person knowing that they are untouchable because of the power that they have because the only good cops are cops that have quit. If you haven’t quit or been fired, you are likely a member of the blue wall of silence that refuses to condemn offices who intentionally act violently knowing that they will not be punished. Also, let’s not forget that people can also be prejudiced against people in their race or ethnicity because of the shade of their skin and the socio-economic class.
10) When have you seen any white man being bashed for having a black wife or being a “big brother” to black children? Often the only people who have problems with black women getting married to white men are black men who feel like they own black women and then claim they are “betraying their race” when they seek love from men in other races and ethnicities, but expect black women to stay silent as they chase after snow bunnies who fetishize mixed children. The only other case I could think of would be racists not wanting races to mix. And the “big brother” thing? The only reason I could think of would be complaints about wanting more black men to be “big brothers” because white men just cannot relate to the experiences of being a black child.
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11) You conveniently left out that despite being one of the smallest racial communities in the U.S., black people are also the most policed, and will get arrested for things cops would let a white man go with like weed charges. Look no further than lovely white wonderbread comedien John Mulaney saying in his second comedy special “the comeback kid” “it’s (weed) always been legal silly goose”. This means that they have a disproportionate amount of black people in their records because if black people only make up 13% of people in the entire nation, they should only make up about 13% of all crime to, but they make up more because policemen have quotas to fill for how many people they arrest in order to receive more funding, and its easier with a racist system backing you up to arrest Black than white people.
12) Again, people in close proximity to each other are more likely to kill each other than people who do not know each other and people who live far from each other. Also, it’s the ultra extremists who really want to abolish the police. I still think we need a protective system, but we need it to work for the common people, not corporations and politicians. I think that every district should use the same system as wealthy white neighborhoods, where anyone who wants to be a policeman must be assigned a position in the neighborhood they are from because anything they do wrong will make them accountable to their neighbors, family, and friends. Also I believe that all cops should undergo mandatory psychological evaluations every 3-6 months, especially cops who have worked on extremely traumatic cases. I also believe that the U.S. should require at least 3 years of school for anyone wanting to become a cop because no one is actually able to learn the law, learn to enforce it through peaceful means unless in dire circumstances, and care for the wounded, mentally ill, physically disabled, or anyone mentally impaired by drugs and alcohol in 6 months.
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13) Another example of how this person is racist because they are actually suggesting that we enforce racial discrimination and black poverty. Also, if you want to bring up gangs, the biggest gang in the U.S is police force using propaganda that promotes the idea of “belonging” and economic stability in order to entice people who do not feel like they belong wherever they are, and then giving them a gun and badge that basically means “kill whoever you want because we will cover it up for you”.
14) Unless a woman feels like she is able to provide a stable enough home environment for her and her child, NO ONE WILLINGLY CHOOSES TO BE A SINGLE MOTHER! Single motherhood is caused by multiple events. A woman was impregnated by someone who left her, a couple with a child divorced because of legitimate reasons because divorce is a long and financially exhausting process, a woman was raped and decided to keep the child, and woman was raped and forced to give birth because she lives in a state that limits women’s healthcare, which includes abortion.
15) Fatherless homes do not equate to a rise in criminal culture. If that were the case, all wlw couples and single mothers would raise criminals. Do you know what does equate to criminal culture though? Teaching people that they are superior to someone else because of their race, gender, ethnicity, religion, or sexuality and then promoting violent behaviors in that child.
16) Black families were never more intact during slavery than after slavery. Slaveowners and slavetraders intentionally worked together to make money and create a lack of unity among slaves by selling individual families members to different regions. One of the first things that former slaves did after they were freed was go out and find their stolen family members.
17) I can’t say anything about economics since I don’t have much knowledge about the economic system before the New Deal. However I will say that this is the only valid point you have made. Politicians have historically tried to get as many black votes as possible when they realized what a reliable voting community they were and then never actually done much to help the black community. However this is a very general statement.
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18) How is group called Black Lives Matter that is focused on gaining racial equality attempting to sow discord in a nation by basically say “can you stop targeting us just because you’re racist and don’t like the color of my skin”.
19) How is a group asking for racial equality a lie? Are you really going to deny racism when we have seen shootings, lynchings, and people getting run over by cars all within the last month and a half?
20) WTF IS A LIE ABOUT A CHANT THAT MEANS “I HAVE NO WEAPONS, DO NOT KILL ME”
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krystalreverb · 4 years
Text
Something Human Fic Preview #7
This is under a readmore because it contains spoilers for the ending of Something Human. 
Hubert found himself doing as he was told, and came upon a table laden with coffee in fine tea cups on fine saucers in the courtyard of Enbarr palace. “Really, Ferdinand, our good porcelain? That was meant to be used in the actual wedding feast. Edelgard won’t be happy.” 
“And it will be! After I am done! Edelgard can wait!” Ferdinand insisted. “Come here, taste this one. I’m detecting a bit of a nutty aroma, but I can’t seem to taste it past the bitterness. There is a reason I don’t drink coffee.”
“Then it’s a bloody good thing I do, isn’t it? Give me that, you’re going to spill it down your shirt, you fool.” Hubert snatched the cup up gracefully before Ferdinand had the chance to dribble it down his shirt. Hubert took a sip of the coffee and made a disgusted face, his nose curling up at it. 
“You’re awful at making coffee, that’s why you can’t taste anything. Spill all these out, let me.” He insisted, pouring the coffee in the cup unceremoniously on the ground. He pulled out his own personal coffee press and began to measure the grounds more carefully. “See, you made it too strong, which means you used too much coffee and the water was too hot, scorching the grounds. The water needs to be hot, but not boiling.” He explained, carefully measuring his grounds and pouring water heated by magic to the perfect temperature into the press. “That’s why it was bitter and unappealing. You didn’t make coffee, you made burned mud.” 
He poured another cup and handed it to Ferdinand. “That’s a proper cup of coffee. Taste that.” He said firmly. Ferdinand took a tentative sip, and his eyes lit up.
“By the Gods! It’s delicious!”
“See?” Hubert chided. “What do you taste? Give me a description of your experience.”
Ferdinand took another sip and contemplated it for a moment, swishing it around in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing it down.
“Hmm… There’s notes of hazelnut, and smoke, and a subtle sweetness underneath, like fine Brigid vanilla and Adrestian sandalwood. It’s smooth and velvety and not at all harsh on the palate. There is the residual bitterness from the coffee, but it serves to complement the entire experience, rather than detract from it. It’s incredible.” Ferdinand reported, swirling the coffee around in the cup and putting it to his nose to take a sniff. “It smells like heaven, and I don’t even like coffee. I think it’s perfect for the wedding feast! Even the council will partake!” 
“Excellent. I shall begin ordering coffee beans post-haste.” Hubert said, pulling out his notebook and scribbling down a note to himself to order coffee beans later. Ferdinand studied him for a moment. Hubert still didn’t quite realize, or perhaps was ignoring, the fact he was no longer considered a servant. 
“You realize you don’t have to do a servant’s work anymore, Hubert, yes?” Ferdinand asked tentatively. “You’re marrying the Emperor.” 
Hubert shrugged. “I’m a simple sort of man.” He said, “And it’s hard to break old habits. Besides, why delegate when I can do it myself and ensure a desirable outcome?” 
“The point is, you don’t have to anymore.”
“Ferdinand, my place is by my lady’s side. Whether that be as her vassal or her husband, I take my role very seriously. My place is kneeling at her feet and walking by her side, and taking on the menial things that are beneath her, like preparing the wedding. You may not understand that, having been raised as a prime minister’s son, but my entire being is devoted to Lady Edelgard. This is as much her wedding as it is mine. Believe me. I am ecstatic that I am lucky enough to be allowed to marry her. I love her, with all my heart and soul. I am thrilled to soon be her husband. But I am, first and foremost, her servant. And I will do a servant’s work, if it benefits Lady Edelgard. This wedding benefits Lady Edelgard. Therefore, I will ensure that we have the proper coffee beans for the reception, and I will prepare the coffee myself if necessary.” Hubert said seriously. “Now, all that being said, we should get these teacups into the kitchens so they can be cleaned before the wedding feast.” 
“Right you are, Hubert. I may have been a bit overzealous.” Ferdinand admitted. 
“As you are in everything you do, Ferdinand.” Hubert began placing cups and saucers on a silver serving tray to bring back to the kitchens. “I’m used to it by now.” 
Hubert picked up the tray laden with cups and saucers and began carrying it on his shoulder back to the kitchens. Ferdinand followed, carrying his own tray. When it looked like the stacked cups on Ferdinand’s tray were about to topple over, Hubert gently put out two fingers and stabilized them until they got to the kitchens, and were able to put them down. 
“I never knew coffee could taste like that.” Ferdinand said, still in awe. “I always thought all of it tasted like mud.” 
“You would have known if you’d ever let me make you a cuppa before, you simpering noble fool. I offered, don’t you remember? You refused, repeatedly. I make a proper cup of coffee, Ferdinand. I pride myself on it. I would not serve Edelgard anything less than the best.” 
“I suppose that’s true. You always did hold yourself to a high standard when it comes to her.” Ferdinand said. 
“Only the highest standard, of course. What kind of Vestra would I be if I did not devote my entire being to my lady? A failure, that’s what. As much as I detested my father, he didn’t raise a failure.” Hubert set to work cleaning the dishes alongside a maid who had come to help. When she expressed concern that the Emperor’s consort was washing dishes alongside her, Ferdinand put up a hand.
“I already told him. Stubborn as an old mule, he is.” 
Hubert rolled his eyes. “I’m as much a servant of the imperial household as I am the Emperor’s consort, you realize. My title of Minister of the Imperial Household doesn’t just magically go away.” 
“But you’re marrying the Emperor.” Ferdinand stressed. “You technically outrank everyone in this room. You don’t have to wash the dishes. That’s what she’s there for. We hired her for a reason.” He gestured towards the maid. Hubert sighed and took his hands out of the sink begrudgingly, wiping them dry on a hand towel. He replaced his gloves and rolled his sleeves back down, following Ferdinand out of the kitchens. 
“You know, if you keep taking away my opportunities to work, I will go insane.” Hubert muttered. 
“Your job isn’t to work anymore, Hubert. Your job is to be the Emperor’s personal sex toy.” Ferdinand said.
“Like Dorothea is for you?” Hubert teased. Ferdinand flushed wildly. 
“No, Dorothea’s job is to sing operas on stage and mine is to donate a substantial amount of money to the Enbarr opera house in which she sings.” Ferdinand insisted. “But let’s face it, Edelgard is happy. She loves you, and she’s willing to take away all the responsibility and dissolve your oath of servitude in order to show the world that she loves you. Instead of working yourself into the ground, try reveling in it for a change.” Ferdinand gripped Hubert’s shoulders and shook him gently, but firmly. “Let’s go into town. You and me, what do you say? I’ll drag Caspar and Linhardt, let’s throw you a bachelor’s party, shall we? No women! Caspar will leave Petra to care for Edelgard, and Linhardt can leave Bernadetta at home in peace!”
“Isn’t the bachelor’s party supposed to be the night before the wedding, so that I show up to my own highly-publicized royal wedding hungover and sick?” Hubert asked.
“That’s the point of doing it now! You’re expected to be all prim and proper on the day of your wedding, so let’s throw you a party now! That way the council is happy, and you’re happy, and she’s happy! Everybody wins!” Ferdinand insisted. 
Hubert sighed dramatically. “Alright, fine. I’ll throw around a little of that Emperor’s-consort money and we’ll go to that club that Linhardt brought Bernadetta to when they started dating. Is it still there?”
“The Spiral Horn? The one with a unicorn on the sign, right? Of course it’s still there. We’ll watch a couple dancers, have a few drinks, it’ll be fun!” 
“Well, I do have more fun when there’s vodka involved. Alright, let’s round up the boys and we’ll go.”
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jo2ukes · 5 years
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Hello! I’m hildahilda from tumblr and I saw you taking prompt requests for 50 ways to love your partner (which has become one of my fave dmileth fics). May I suggest... Dimitri and Byleth debating/arguing over political concerns or having long horse rides together? Just getting these ideas from their paired ending lol. Thank you!
HELLO LOVELY!!! Aaa your comments are always so sweet i always look forward to reading what you have to say slkdfjslkd  thank u for requesting smth ilysm~
I’m SO SORRY this took so long - I’ve been working on it off and on, but I slacked off too much at work last week so things kind of blew up and I’ve been living off of energy drinks. THAT BEING SAID, this is for YOU!!! I’m gonna upload to ao3 later as well, just not rn bc I’m at work lol :-)
spoilers for like. post game and blue lions stuff, though i tried to be pretty vague!
It was never typical for diplomatic meetings to go smoothly. Not that Dimitri is naïve enough to expect them to be easy. Even in times of peace, there are always areas for improvement. Dissatisfactions to be addressed. Relationships to maintain. Something about having his work cut out for him makes these meetings easier – though solving the issues are certainly more time consuming. Uniting Fódlan has been no small undertaking and he is grateful for all the assistance he receives from his friends. He is painfully aware that destruction is his forte – his hands and mind have only recently been converted to the goal of healing and restoration. To lead, you have to be able to both destroy and create, Byleth has told him. She’s right. United Fódlan and the relative peace they have now wouldn’t exist had he not destroyed Edelgarde and her dissenting Imperial forces. While the beast in him once relished in the idea of putting an end to El’s machinations, taking her life was one of the most painful trials he’s had to endure. The perspective motivates him. Encourages him to listen to his people and create a world where no destruction is needed, where no one is unjustly taken.
 He constantly reminds himself of this goal. It makes the sleepless nights worth it.
 The current roundtable has gone on for hours at least – Ferdinand, Lorenz, Byleth, Seteth and a handful of other nobles – mostly from former Faerghus territories – are in attendance. Unofficially, Ferdinand speaks for nobles of former Imperial territories, while Lorenz speaks for former Alliance territories. They’ve been instrumental in the restructuring efforts. While the three of them were not particularly close before, Dimitri counts them among his close friends now.
 “I hate to mention it on top of everything else,” Ferdinand bites his lip, “but there’s one last item I feel needs to be addressed before we adjourn. We’ve had trouble with the Western Church in the Aegir territory. We’ve repelled a few initial attacks. At first we thought it was bandits, but… well, we’ve confirmed the worst. Normally, my pride would never allow asking for assistance, but with our resources and attention spread out as it is, namely correcting my father’s corruption, I’m not sure this is a matter I can handle solely on my own. I don’t want to cause any more chaos in my territory than need be.”
 “You are correct to bring it up,” Dimitri says, furrowing his brow. “Aegir territory is a long way to go to cause trouble.”
 “If the Western Church is mobilizing again, it will certainly affect the trade routes we’ve established,” Lorenz observes. “The few merchants that can afford to travel certainly can’t afford losses to their inventory or company. Our trade routes are the most vulnerable. As former Imperial lands are in the most chaos, what with the complete restructuring needed post-war., it makes sense the Western Church, whatever their goals may be, would seek to cause disruptions there. If we truly seek to provide aid and maintain good relations with the nobles in the south, surely this conflict requires more attention. Wouldn’t you agree?” He looks back at Ferdinand.
 “Respectfully, yes,” Ferdinand nods solemnly. “Though, I understand the Central and Western Churches have their summit planned later this month, which surely makes matters precarious.”
 Eyes turn to Byleth and Seteth.
 “You are correct,” Seteth nods, addressing the nobles. “We are aware certain sects of the Western Church are mobilizing, though we had not heard of any activity in the Aegir territory. You can trust the matter will be dealt with. Her Grace has asked that I lead a fraction of the Knights of Seiros to investigate these disturbances while she attends the summit later this month. Ashe wrote to us several weeks ago, disclosing Western Church movements in the Gaspard territory once again. Since then, we’ve been keeping a watchful eye.”
 “How watchful, if they are mobilizing in areas you are not aware of?” Lorenz asks. “Your Grace, your Highness, I know the Church is quite busy with restructuring efforts, but perhaps it would be wise to focus more resources in this area.” He taps his upper lip thoughtfully. “Perhaps if we sent forces that were not affiliated with the Church it wouldn’t complicate things at the summit. The Western Church can feel safe in trusting the Central Church, and the people can feel safe that something is being done about these attacks.”
 “I agree,” Dimitri hums after a beat. “Very well. Seteth, I want you to take some of Fhirdiad’s knights with you. As things are a little more stable in the capital than anywhere else, it is less of a burden on our resources. Ingrid and her company should be available, I believe. I’ll send word they’re to accompany you back to the monastery. I’ll want to be kept in the loop, of course.”
 “With all due respect, your Majesty,” Byleth says, clearing her throat, and breaking her silence, “this is a Church affair. While I appreciate your offer for assistance, we must decline.”
 “On the contrary,” Dimitri shakes his head, “It stopped being a Church affair when it started threatening to plunge all of United Fódlan into another war, your Grace. These are not random attacks, they seem rather targeted.”
 “The Western Church simply does not have the resources or manpower to launch a full-scale war,” she shakes her head. “I do not believe that is their intention this time. They’re recovering just the same as the rest of Fódlan. If you’ll remember, the last time the Western Church created conflicts, there was a larger power at play. As relations with the Western Church are already delicate at best, I’d ask that you let us investigate internally first, at least until the summit has concluded. A month’s time, that’s all I’m asking.”
 “It is not that I distrust your ability to manage your own, I simply wish to prevent further harm to the already suffering villages.”
 “I understand your concern, your Highness. My wishes are the same,” she straightens her back, looking him square in the eye. She looks truly regal and imposing. For a moment Dimitri thinks it’s a shame the others get to observe her in her authoritative splendor, that it’s not a look only he can witness. But the thought only lasts a moment – he’s more than familiar with that determined glint in her eye. He’s in for a fight.
 “However,” she continues, “I cannot hope to restore faith in the Church if we are constantly shown to be unable to handle our own. Say what you will, but Edelgarde’s war has damaged the Church’s reputation, strengthened seeds of distrust. Whether that distrust was well-placed or not is of no consequence. The reputation of the Church must be restored. Through transparency, through rooting out corruption and self-serving officials, so be it, but it must be handled by the Church. We’ve only just concluded a war built on that same distrust – what message would it send if the King had to step in? How would that offer any reassurance to the people that things are different?”
 “You suggest, then, that the people will be more willing to accept the Church should be allowed to continue to govern its own?” he asks, folding his arms.
 “I’m suggesting we be given a chance to prove ourselves. If the leaders cannot trust the Church, the people cannot hope to hold the same faith.”
 “It is a risk,” Ferdinand interjects, “but I believe Her Grace has a point. Restoring faith in the Church should be a priority, and that task begins with our actions here.”
 Lorenz and Seteth both begin to speak, but whatever they start to say is lost to Dimitri and he focuses on his wife’s voice, rising above the others. When she and Dimitri disagree on topics, the others in the room cease to exist to the two of them. While they do not always agree, he trusts her above all else. He respects and values her opinion, as she has led him down the right path time and time again.
 “Rather than bandaging a severed limb,” Byleth continues, “We should treat the root of the problem. I believe this is not the Western Church, but some unnamed force. Without revealing too much of my own hand, I have reason to believe Edelgarde’s… unsavory allies may have resurfaced.”
 “Is this truly information that should be held by the Church alone?”
 “For the time being, yes,” Byleth nods. “As you said, we do not want to cause further damage to those that are already suffering. Mobilizing too early may do just that. Again, a month is all I ask.”
 “If Ingrid and her company were instead mobilized to the Aegir territory to assist in repelling potential attacks in the meantime, would that be sufficient?” Dimitri asks. It’s more of a thought than a command. He’s willing to let Byleth win this round as he can’t begin to fathom some of the complications that come with running the Church. He takes an interest, supporting her how he can. In private, she tells him of her duties and concerns – an odd topic of conversation for pillow talk, but he likes that she trusts him with some of her burdens and worries, as she’s helped him shoulder his own for so long.
 His main goal is to protect the people. Byleth has always been better at keeping her attention toward the future, while his attention is usually focused on the short term. Perhaps it’s one of the reasons their compromises work so well. Sending troops to assist Ferdinand would fulfill his intention of keeping the villagers safe, at least until the end of the summit. Not to mention, the increase in feelings of unity.
“I have no qualms with that solution,” Byleth says, a smile forming at the corners of her mouth.
 “We would be grateful for your assistance,” Ferdinand addresses Dimitri, giving a slight bow of his head. “I’m humbled, your Majesty.”
 “It’s settled then. I will pass word along to Ingrid,” he scribbles a note for himself. “In the meantime, perhaps we should adjourn for the evening?”
 A collective sigh of relief seems to spread throughout the hall. The various lords stand, bowing to Dimitri before exiting, ready to rest and enjoy the few hours of downtime they have before meetings resume again the next morning, servants coming to escort them to their various rooms. Ferdinand and Lorenz excuse themselves as well, familiar enough with the castle they feel comfortable roaming the halls without guidance.
 Once the room is empty, Dimitri turns to his wife who stands behind him.
 “I thought that went rather well,” he says, offering his hand. She takes it. “Though the Archbishop seems quite determined to give me a hard time,” he jokes. She squeezes his hand gently.
 “You’ll have to forgive her, your Majesty. I hear she’s rather stubborn,” she smiles up at him before standing on her tiptoes and placing a kiss on his cheek.
 “If that is official guidance from my Queen, I suppose I shall take it under advisement,” he laughs. The two of them walk hand in hand through the corridors. “You’re sure the investigation into the Western Church won’t be difficult for you, beloved? I worry about your safety.”
 “I can’t promise the investigation won’t come without dangers,” she replies truthfully, “but I will exercise caution. I have Seteth watching out for me.” She sighs, her mood immediately lightening, “At any rate, that’s enough talk of politics and official business. I asked Cyril to saddle the horses before sundown. If I haven’t been too stubborn, perhaps you’d like to join me?”
 “I’m quite fond of your stubbornness, you know,” he smiles, letting her lead the way to the stables.
 “I know,” she laughs.
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